Her eyes pop as she struggles to swallow her spit. “You let me sleep that long?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal her lengthy nap gave Hunter plenty of time to organize a decoy. My security team is unaware ifthe car parked outside the private airstrip belongs to Col’s or Vladimir’s crew, but with them tailing Harlow and Cormack’s weave through the backstreets of Ravenshoe, it will keep the heat off Isabelle long enough for me to make sure she makes it home safely.
When Isabelle continues gawking, soundlessly demanding an answer for her question, I repeat, “You looked tired.”
I assist Hugo with placing Isabelle’s suitcase into the trunk of my car before guiding her into the back seat. When Hugo’s eyes lock with mine in the rearview mirror a couple of miles later, I stop sucking in the smell of our intermingled scent to stray my eyes in the direction Hugo inconspicuously nudges his head at.
We’re being tailed, and for once, it isn’t by the blue van that forever follows me when I’m in Ravenshoe.
When I jerk up my chin, granting Hugo permission to try and lose the tail, Isabelle’s eyes slip to mine for the quickest second. I give her a brief smile before shifting my focus to Hugo’s in the rearview mirror. I can see the shadow of the dark sedan he’s eyeing like a hawk in his large blue irises. It mimics every move and turn he makes.
Fighting the urge to tell Hugo to pull over, I yank my cell phone out of my pocket and dial a frequently called number.
Hunter answers on the very first ring. “Second decoy already initiated. I’ll let you know who they are the instant their plates are scanned.”
His words have only just left my mouth when the flicker of police sirens reflects in the rearview mirror along with Hugo’s relieved gaze. Hunter went the full hog this time around. He called the actual authorities.
“Keep them occupied until I get there.”
I end our call just as Hugo pulls into the curb at the front of Isabelle’s apartment building.
I don’t need to tell him to keep the engine running. My tight jaw and balled fists tell him everything he needs to know.
Despite the energy crackling between us during our short ride in the elevator to Isabelle’s floor, my hands remainstuffed into the pockets of my dress pants and Isabelle’s remain curled around the handle of her suitcase. There’s too much tension bundling in my stomach for me to answer any of the silent pleas Isabelle is projecting. If Col has more than one man on this, we underestimated Isabelle’s importance to his plan. He doesn’t have the resources to negligently toss them around. Even my team is stretched thin, and I recently beefed up our numbers to make sure exhaustion couldn’t be blamed for any fatal slips.
I’m drawn from my negative thoughts when Isabelle asks, “Did you want to come inside?”
She jabs her keys into the lock of her front door with more force than needed when I shake my head. “I have some business to take care of.”
I try to keep deceit out of my tone, but Isabelle sees straight through it. “Okay.” She thrusts her hand toward me before saying in a cordial manner, “Thank you for a lovely weekend.”
After the weekend we had, her gall shouldn’t shock me, but somehow, it does.
While smirking to hide my wish to see just how far her sass goes, I accept the hand she’s holding out in offering. But instead of shaking it as she is implying for us to do, I raise it to my mouth and kiss the edge of her palm. “The pleasure was all mine, Isabelle,” I mutter, making her squirm.
I suck in her addictive scent for another couple of seconds before spinning on my heels and rocketing down the corridor. Needing to disperse some excess energy before I do something I can’t take back, I take the stairs instead of the elevator.
By the time I reach the lobby, I’m sweating as profusely as Hugo when I pull him out of the driver’s seat of my town car and slot into his place.
“Stay with Isabelle,” I order before flattening my foot on the gas pedal.
While weaving through congested traffic, I hit the speed dial for Hunter’s number on the console in the dashboard.
“Officers are holding him, but they won’t be able to keep him for long.”
My grinding teeth are heard in my reply. “Where?”
“West and 42nd. He’s—”
I disconnect our call over the constant excuses. If you want to follow me while I go about my day-to-day activities as a business owner, go ahead. That is part of the downfall of being a public figure. But when it comes to someone’s private life, you occasionally need to draw a line in the sand. You can’t have access to someone’s life twenty-four-seven.Privacy laws were invented for a reason.
“Isaac…” greets Ross, a decorated veteran of Ravenshoe PD when I arrive on the scene.
“It’s been a long time since we last spoke.” He suspends his hand mid-air when he spots the expression on my face. I’m not here to talk shop with a man who thinks DUIs are the worst things he could arrest residents here with. “The photos are a little risqué, but unless they’re used in an article, there isn’t much we can do about them.”
“Photos?”
Hunter steps out of his van at the side of the flashing patrol car to join our conversation. “As I tried to tell you over the phone, the man following you is a journalist. We matched his profile with some of the surveillance images Maximus was scanning from outsideMummo Koti.”He hands me a folder full of printouts. “He’s been following you for some time. These are the images I removed from his hard drive since Officer Johns isn’t willing to hand over the microSD from his camera.”
