Page 55 of Sasha’s Secret

“Sure. Why not?”

Rocco blinked. She hadn’t missed a beat. He shot her a look, expecting to see an expression that confirmed she was winding him up, but it appeared she was deadly serious. “What time did you have in mind?”

“After dark. If we use the smaller pool, we can set the privacy glass so no one on the outside will be able to see anything.”

There were few aspects of technology that appealed to Rocco, but he was more than happy to add switchable privacy glass to the list. He hadn’t given the matter much thought last time a nude swimming session had been on the cards. “What time would be good for you?”

“Say, an hour or two to finish up a few things, then thirty minutes back at the apartment would be great.”

Rocco checked his watch. “Cool. I’m looking forward to it.”

Sasha stopped and halted him in his tracks with a hand on his forearm. He turned, and she timed it perfectly, a graceful lift onto her toes and a sweet, soft kiss on his lips.

“So am I.”

* * *

Before the time she’d mentioned to Rocco was up, Sasha had two temporary replacement staff booked to start the following week, and had headed off another irate phone call from Frank Schofield, protesting about the way Rocco had handled the alleged embezzlement without reading him into the situation. She’d managed to soothe his blustering ego, although she wasn’t sure how long the peace would last.

With time to spare, she’d retreated to the quietness of her apartment. It seemed empty without her man. Had she not made plans to go swimming, she’d have chosen beer instead of grabbing an ice-cold bottle of sparkling water to keep her company as she sat curled upon the couch.

Her thoughts gravitated towards the arrangements for the awards. She was as concerned as Rocco about the security personnel who would accompany Linzi and her party. Rocco. Scott. Herself. If something went down—depending on when it went down—the odds were not on their side, whichever way she sliced and diced it.

Years of training and experience were screaming for backup, and she knew exactly who she’d prefer to ask. He’d do it if he was available, maybe even bring some of his team with him, but there was no guarantee. The last she’d heard—from his lovely and pregnant wife—was that he was incommunicado but not out of the country.

The question was, could she go behind Rocco’s back? If she did, she’d be sending him the message that she didn’t think he could do his job, something she wanted to avoid at all costs.

Sasha closed her eyes and sighed. There was no point in borrowing trouble—not until she had to, anyway. Her friend was expected back in a day or two, and a conversation with him then might turn up an alternative solution. Even sleeping on it tonight might help—today had not been a good day, and given the way she’d reacted to it, Sasha realized she was becoming way too accustomed to a civilian lifestyle.

She smiled to herself. Wasn’t that exactly what she was supposed to be doing?

The sound of the door opening and closing behind her broadened her smile. She didn't hear any footsteps, but she didn’t need the hand on her shoulder or the kiss to the crown of her head to know Rocco was standing behind her.

“Hey. You okay?” He came around the end of the couch and sat beside her.

She was so tempted to cuddle against him. As if he could read her mind, he slipped an arm around her and pulled her to him, while with his other hand, he relieved her of the half-empty water bottle and took a swig, before setting it down on the table. “I guess so. I used to be way more adaptable than this.”

“You were blindsided in a place where it was the last thing you expected. Don’t let it get to you, cara.”

She loved it when his Sicilian side came to the fore—it gave her the warm fuzzies. “I won’t. By the way, Frank called me about your email—thanks for copying me in, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. What did he have to say?”

“If I said ‘The lady doth protest too much’—except we’re not talking about a lady—would that give you an idea?”

Rocco raised his eyebrows. “I wish I could say I’m surprised. Sasha, I just came from checking Linzi’s latest social media feeds.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Not really. It’s been quiet for the last few days. I wondered if there was anything new, and there was.” Rocco pulled out his cell, swiped the screen a few times, and offered it to her. “Earlier today—after I spoke to Frank about Brian.”

Sasha leaned closer. The images were of messages, posted earlier that day, and the text was horrifying. “Read those a certain way, and I’d swear they were referencing the awards. You think there’s a connection between pulling Brian from the team on Sunday and this?”

“That, or coincidence, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are real. There’s been nothing from the stalker for a while, so why escalate now?”

Sasha slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe because the awards are only days away and they want to scare her more?” Even as she said it, she wasn’t convinced. “Okay—if they intend to use the awards to harm Linzi in some way, why would they warn us? The logical reaction to that would be for us to increase the level of protection, but wouldn’t that defeat their objective?”

Rocco remained silent, prompting her to wonder why. “What are you thinking?”