Page 52 of Unstable

Roman rolled his eyes. No surprise there. Men like that usually started small, with assault or harassment, then escalated into something more sinister. It was looking more and more like this guy was the one responsible. If he’d worked practically beside her, it would have been easy for him to follow her home.

Knox continued, “He was caught stealing and was relieved of his position. When they searched his locker, they found a pair of sunglasses belonging to Ms. Sterling. Prints have been pulled from several of the letters she received, so they’ll cross-check those as soon as they have him in custody. So far, it’s looking pretty open-and-shut.”

“Right. Well, that’s… great.” Roman tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but he knew he had failed when a long pause came from the other end of the line.

“How are things with you?” Knox asked warily.

“We’ve had our bumps,” Roman replied honestly. “She threw a fit a few days ago when he wouldn’t give her phone back so she could call you and bitch about me.”

A low chuckle filtered through the speaker. “If it helps at all, I think you can ease up on her a bit. Seems like these guys have a handle on the situation here. I’ll touch base tomorrow or the next day to let you know how everything panned out.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Hey, Ink?”

“Yeah?”

“The studio agreed to pay double for the assignment, so at least you’ll get something out of this when it’s all said and done.”

The thought made Roman see red. “I’m not with her for the money,” he snapped.

He knew those jerks from the studio didn’t care about her, especially not her slime-bag agent, Louis. For all he cared, they could take that cash and shove it up their ass. He refused to give them the satisfaction. Whatever extra pay he got, he would split with Irina. After everything she’d been through, she deserved it.

Knox hesitated. “Not many men in your position would say the same.”

Roman didn’t have a response for that. Knox had already read way more into the situation than he was comfortable with. “I’ve gotta go,” he said. “That girl’s attracted to trouble, so he better make sure she stays out of it.”

“You do that,” came Knox’s response. “Just remember…”

He trailed off, and Roman bristled. “What?”

“This ends when you come back.”

It was like a kick to the gut. But Knox was exactly right. This—all of it—was just an illusion, a fantasy that would end the moment they went home. It still pissed him off. “And?”

Knox sighed. “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Call me when you know something.” With that, Roman hung up and tossed his phone on the chaise lounge. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his hands over his face.

What was he doing? Things between him and Irina were getting out of control. Had Knox’s phone call not interrupted them, he probably would’ve taken her right there in the shallow end of the pool. How could he have been so stupid?

He’d almost crossed the line with her—with a client—something he swore he’d never do. It didn’t matter what he felt for her or that she seemed to want it, too. His first—and only—priority was to keep her safe. And he couldn’t do that if he was constantly distracted by her.

He let out a sigh, then turned his gaze toward the sliding doors that led into the bedroom. Beneath the reflection from the sun, he could just barely make out Irina’s form moving around the bed. A primal urge came over him, tempting him to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, keep her there for hours. Days.

He prayed to God that the police would get everything figured out and fast, because he was going to lose his mind if he had to spend any more time with this woman without getting his hands on her—all over her—exactly the way they both wanted.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Irina turned to glance at Roman. “How about we walk down to the pier?” They had seen it during the day, but now, at night, part of it was lit up, looking like a runway leading out to the middle of the sea. He glanced in that direction, then shrugged. “Fine with me.” Silence fell as they started out across the sand. The sound of voices and laughter drifted toward them from the shore, but the beach itself was nearly deserted. Ever since he’d taken that phone call yesterday, things between them seemed more tense than usual. Whatever moment had passed between them in the pool had immediately dissipated, and he’d withdrawn completely, back to the cold, aloof man he’d been before.

Irina hated it. She wanted the real Roman back—the one she’d joked with and played cards with. She wanted the man who teased and laughed and smiled. The one who looked at her like he actually cared about her—not the singer that everyone else saw, but her, Irina. After a few minutes, she couldn’t stand it anymore and finally broke the silence. “Where are you from?”

“Originally?” She glanced up at Roman, his face illuminated in the moonlight, and nodded. “Pennsylvania, just north of Pittsburgh.”

“Is your family still there?”