Page 118 of Cozen

Cozen knew that was a false hope. The man was far too enamored with her not to notice she had taken off for a couple of days. Jesus, he even had her schedule for the restaurant faxed to him every week, so he knew when her hours were.

It hinted away from him being simply enamored with her, and more towards obsession, really. It was certainly concerning, but Cozen was far too close to finishing this job once and for all to back out now.

She could handle Jett.

Surely …

She worked on what story she would tell Jett as she came down the escalator at the arrivals gate. She was almost entirely lost to her thoughts when a waiting form at the bottom of the escalator caught her eye, and made her freeze like a deer in the headlights.

He smiled.

Cozen relaxed.

Sargon.

As she stepped off the escalator, he reached for her bag. Taking the item from her shoulder, he easily slung it around his own before his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. To anyone one else, it would have looked like a couple greeting each other in a modest way.

It took nothing more than his touch—his hand fitting tightly against her trim waist—to ground her again. Being close to Sargon was dangerous for Cozen’s heart, and her mind. He made it hard for her to keep up the mask she had to wear.

He made her pretense fall.

He didn’t even care.

Cozen’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Did Jett send you?”

Did he know she had come back from Miami?

Did he know why she had gone there?

“He has no idea you’re back, actually,” Sargon replied.

Cozen glanced up at him. “How do you know?”

“You are not that hard to trace, Cozen. All it took was a couple of phone calls to find information on where you went—or the general area. I think you should remember that when you want to take off for the weekend to have meetings with a family that Jett Griffin considers to be his enemy. Just a word of advice—take it or don’t.”

She swallowed hard.

Sargon kept his arm tight around her waist, and didn’t let her move even the slightest inch away from him. “He wanted me to track you while you were gone. In case you’re curious, he knew you left the city almost the second you did.”

Cozen scowled—just as she suspected. “Chase?”

“Is he the guy who runs the restaurant?”

“Yes.”

Sargon nodded. “Yes, that’s who called to fill Jett in on the fact you called in for a couple of days due to a family emergency.”

“And he wanted you to follow me.”

“Getting uncomfortable yet?” Sargon asked.

Cozen let out a slow breath. “Listen—”

Without a word, Sargon’s hand grabbed tight to Cozen’s wrist, and he pulled her down a long corridor in the airport that was used for old gates that were currently not in use. He ripped down the caution tape keeping people from going too far, and continued dragging her along with him until he felt they had gone far enough.

Swinging her around to face him, Cozen found genuine fear staring back at her. “He wanted me to follow you. Don’t you get that?”

Sure.