“Yes,” I snap, my agitation over his line of questioning clear.
“Hunter hasn’t stopped since he arrived at Parkerville. Cut him some slack.”
Without letting me reply, Hugo hangs up the phone. My fists bunch as my back molars grind together. Hunter is a loyal employee, and he is a hard worker, but he missed a lot of critical information in regards to Nick’s stalker. The stuff he overlooked could have been fatal for Nick and his unborn son. When it comes to making mistakes that affect my family, it can’t go unpunished. I refuse to sweep things under the rug and pretend it never happened.
Isabelle
An annoyed huff escapes my lips when I sit on the bed. It took me two minutes to pack my belongings. But I told Isaac I'd give him twenty minutes to finalize a few private calls he had to make, so I'll spend the next eighteen minutes sitting on a rumpled bed that smells like Isaac and sex mixed together. That is a scent that could be bottled up and sold for millions. I don’t even have a phone to occupy my time since Hunter smashed it on the ground. A few rounds of Candy Crush would have helped to fill the void right now.
As much as my heart ached knowing Isaac didn’t feel comfortable making personal calls in front of me, I can’t deny that I understand his hesitation. I did deceive him for months, so it will take me months to regain his trust.
By the time another ten minutes has clicked by on the clock, my boredom is paramount. Ten minutes is close to twenty, right? I snag my satchel off the bedside table and dawdle toward the front door of the cabin, delaying going outside for as long as I can. I drop my satchel to the ground on the front veranda to fasten the buttons on my Burberry trench coat when the icy cold winds make every fine hair on my body prickle. No, I didn’t pay thousands of dollars for a jacket. Just like my Juicy Couture sweatpants, my coat was another San Francisco thrift shop diamond in the rough. It is amazing what people give to charities when it is no longer in season.
“Bugger,” I murmur when I discover a nail in the wooden deck has caught a snag on the bottom of my satchel.
The material unraveled as I lifted it from the ground so it now has a hole the size of a quarter in the bottom right-hand corner. I dig my hand into the satchel to ensure there isn’t anything small enough in there that can fall through the hole.
My satchel is empty, considering how much it usually houses. There are some empty chocolate wrappers, my Kindle that hasn’t been charged in months, my purse, and my FBI-issued pistol.
I pull out the chocolate wrappers and stuff them into the front pocket of my white-washed jeans to ensure they don’t slip out of the hole before securing the zipper on my satchel.
In the quietness of the forest, I hear Isaac’s deep voice penetrating from around the corner. I hook my satchel on my shoulder and quickly pace toward him, eager to be near him again. His tone is flat, his mood dampening the past twenty minutes.I wonder what caused the drastic change in his attitude?
Panicked it could be something to do with Megan or his brother Nick, I rush toward him and wrap my arms around his chiseled abdomen. I nuzzle into his chest before he can fathom an objection. His seductive manly scent is so strong it overtakes the smell of dampness in the air from the rapidly forming clouds. My heart swells and a smile curves on my mouth when his spare arm drapes over my shoulders and he pulls me in close to place a kiss on my temple.
“Henry, I have to go. I’ll call you again tomorrow morning,” Isaac says into a phone that looks as heavy as a brick. “Yes… okay. Bye.”
“You and Henry seem more friendly since our weekend away.” When Isaac stiffens, I lift my head off his chest to peer into his enthralling eyes. “That was Henry, wasn’t it?”
He coughs to clear his throat. “No, it wasn’t.”
My brows pull together. I just heard him say Henry as clear as day.Oh no. “Was that Henry’s father?”The suspected Mob Boss of New York City.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, Isabelle. I don’t want to lie to you,” Isaac responds, his tone abrupt like it is when he talks to his staff.
“Then don’t. Tell me the truth.” I step out of his arms to stand in front of him.
Isaac pulls away so swiftly, a blast of warm air hits my face. He strides to a vehicle housed under a white cover in a wooden garage attached to the cabin. I quickly follow after him. When he yanks the sheet off the car, the afternoon sun catches the dust filtering in the air, making it look like fireworks exploding in the darkening sky.
“Who were you talking to?” I demand firmly.
His brow arches. “It was Henry GottleSenior.”
“Why were you talking to him?” I ask as the anxious dread that's been plaguing my stomach the past week returns.
A flash of anger crosses over Isaac's face, searing me motionless with its intense heat. “Stop interrogating me, Isabelle. You’re not on the job.”
My jaw tenses as I glare at him. “I’m not asking for my job. I’m asking to protect you.”
“You don’t need to protect me, Isabelle. It’s not your job to protect me.”
“Yes, it is,” I yell, my voice echoing through the dense forest. “It is my job to protect you, just as much as it is for you to protect me.” I step closer to him. “You said you protect the people you love. It’s no different for me. I love you, Isaac, and I’ll protect you to my very last breath.”
A flicker of remorse sparks in Isaac’s eyes as he spans the distance between us. Before I can protest, his arms wrap around me, lifting my feet off the ground as his mouth encloses over mine.
He kisses me senseless.
By the time he pulls away, I have a hard enough time remembering my own name, let alone what we were just arguing about.
