Most of Isaac’s behavior centered around two alpha males being in the same room, but a part—a very minute part—had nothing to do with business, and everything to do with me.
Call me cocky, but I'm confident in my assumption. I've never seen Isaac balk the way he did when Alex offered him his hand to shake. He seemed more interested in spitting at his feet than accepting his greeting. And then, not even two seconds after Alex fled, he yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. It isn't the standard run-of-the-mill cell you'd expect every twenty-seven-year-old businessman to have. It is an ancient phone — the one he only uses when he's causing trouble.
Isaac buckles down for a fight when I slip off the bed to get dressed. “Two seconds, Regan, and Hunter will know every aspect of Bozo’s life.”
“No.” I bob down to gather my clothes neatly folded on the floor, ignoring the fury radiating from him. Although peeved my designer babies were left defenseless, I’d rather them be friendly with a sterile environment than be hacked to shreds.
“Regan?”
I pivot around to face Isaac, laying my clothes on the crumpled bedding on my way. “I don’t want to know every aspect of his life.”
“Only last weekend, you had Hunter run ten suitors through his system,” he rebuts, visibly frustrated.
“That’s different—”
“How?!” He sounds more annoyed at my sudden revoke of personal scrutiny than my reasoning behind it.
I take a moment to work out how to express my next words without sounding whiny. I shouldn’t have bothered. I could only sound more whiny if I were a baby overdue for a bottle. “They were men I intended to use for visual stimulation. Bozo has no interest in warming my sheets.”
“Huh?!”
I’m saved from hearing Isaac’s laughter in an echo when the lack of walls in my bay sends it bellowing down the corridor instead.
“If I hadn’t arrived when I did, not even a concussion would have stopped him.”
He stops gleaming when I snarl, “Then why did you come rushing in, Kill-Joy-Tate? I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. ”
“Well, excuse me for caring, Ms. Vibe-Rator.”
I snort, loving that his woeful mood didn’t stop him from using my favorite nickname.
“Besides, I was under the assumption you ‘didn’t need a man to get you off.’” He air quotes one of my frequent sayings, forcing laughter to bubble in my chest.
Alex’s naturally cocky demeanor must have done a real number on him. I’ve never seen a man as dominant and as in control as Isaac use air quotes before.
“I’m more than capable of getting the job done.” I graze my teeth over my lower lip before issuing Isaac a flirty wink, ensuring his nightmares are well stocked the next two days. “But an occasional mix-up never hurts anyone. He could have been fun.”
After working his jaw side to side, Isaac growls, “Even more reason to have Hunter look into him.” His eyes stray in the direction Alex just left. “Something about him is off, Regan. I don’t know what it is, but I’m not a fan.”
“Then give yourself a pat on the back, Hercules. I doubt he’ll line up for round two after your macho stance scared him away.”
When Isaac’s eyes snap to mine, full of narcissistic vanity, I drop mine to my clothing, praying it will hide the deceit blazing in them. Alex doesn’t seem like the type of man to back away when challenged. If anything, it might increase his determination.
God, I hope so!
I wasn't deceitful when I said I spotted Alex in the restaurant Isaac and I regularly dine at. He's a hard man to miss. He didn't just have my eye; he had many other female patrons’ and staff’s as well. I don't have issues with low self-esteem, so usually, if a man like Alex captures my attention, I approach him without pause for thought. But there is something about Alex that stopped me. It doesn't make any sense considering we only met this afternoon, but I feel like I know him, even though we’re strangers. I guess that's why I was so upfront with him? I don't see him as a stranger.
I’ve only had an instant connection like this once before in my life.
It didn’t end well.
Mercifully, the pain medication making my head woozy blocks tears from welling in my eyes. Not a day passes without Luca entering my thoughts, but as the years move on, the tears have followed them. You can mourn someone without crying—it just takes years of practice.
The small wins keep coming when it dawns on me that Alex’s undershirt caught most of the blood oozing from my wound before it could dribble onto my blouse. I would have hated tossing my favorite Oscar de la Renta feather-detailed blouse, but I would have had no other option. Whether on screen or in real life, I hate blood. Just the thought of my sister Raquel getting up close and personal with it makes me physically ill.
Raquel is well on her way to becoming a world-renowned surgeon. Just like me, she paid her dues at NY State before being accepted to medical school. Unlike me, she refuses Isaac's assistance in any form—money or contacts. In a way, I'm glad. I love working for Isaac. His empire broadened my skills years before I sat for the bar, but I'd rather he didn't need trauma surgeons at his beck and call.
If Isaac was aware of the secret I shared with Alex, he wouldn’t only have a state-of-the-art hospital on standby; he’d have an entire sheriff’s department tailing my every move. I’m not joking. That’s how protective he is.
