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Raine unbuckled the big fruit bouquet from the front seat, then darted out of the car and around to the other side. As she lifted it from the passenger’s side, she balanced the basket, her phone, and her car keys, then headed into the lobby of Beck’s building. She hoped he enjoyed the goodies, but what else did a sub get another Dom as a thank-you-for-helping-me-with-my-submission gift?
The doorman greeted her warmly, obviously remembering her from her stay here last week, when she’d been hiding out after running away from Hammer and Liam.
Shoving the ugly memories aside, she smiled back. “Would it be possible to leave this in Dr. Beckman’s refrigerator?”
The uniformed man flipped through the papers on his clipboard and nodded. “Sure. He added you to his list so you can come by anytime.”
“I don’t have a key.”
“I’ll get you in. Or his current houseguest can help you out, too.”
Houseguest? Raine shrugged. Maybe he’d had someone visit him unexpectedly or was letting another doctor crash at his place. If that was the case, she’d have to be quiet.
“Thank you.”
“This way.” He led her through the secure double doors, across the lobby, to a bank of elevators and pressed the button. “You getting ready for the holidays, Miss?”
She smiled, optimistic that Christmas would be much better than her disastrous Thanksgiving, which had started with her migraine and ended with Hammer and Liam at one another’s throats. “I’ll be starting my preparations tomorrow.”
They exchanged small talk until the door to the elevator on her right opened. As she entered and watched the doorman press the button for the penthouse, Raine inspected the fruit bouquet to make certain it was no worse for the wear after the car ride.
She almost missed the ding of the other elevator and the blur of the familiar man in the gray suit storming by. He shoved out the lobby’s secure double door, and it closed behind him before she realized she’d just seen Liam, looking somewhere between determined and smug. A prickle of alarm skittered down her spine.
Raine frowned. What the heck was he doing at Beck’s? Why would he visit when the doctor was in the middle of surgery? And had a houseguest?
The elevator door in front of her began to close. Raine stuck her leg out to stop it.
Hopping to keep her balance, she thrust the fruit basket in the doorman’s hand. “Can you hold this? That was my boyfriend. Something is clearly wrong. One minute…”
She didn’t give the doorman an opportunity to object, just darted out of the lift and ran down the hall. “Liam!”
He didn’t hear her. He’d already pushed his way out the second set of doors into the parking lot and now pressed the phone to his ear. He paused, a deeply satisfied smile adding dimension to his sharp profile. What the hell was going on with him?
“Miss?”
Raine turned. The elevator began to beep. The doorman, wearing a slightly impatient glower, held the fruit bouquet.
When she looked back at the parking lot, Liam sauntered toward his car, still chatting on his cell. She frowned at his retreating back. The elevator’s beep became an insistent buzz. With a little curse, Raine turned away. She’d see Liam in less than an hour. She’d ask him for an explanation then.
“Sorry.” She turned back to the elevator and took the silent ride up twenty-something floors, ignoring the doorman’s questioning gaze.
Once the doors parted, she made her way to the corner unit. The guard pulled out a set of keys.
“Go ahead and knock. If the houseguest doesn’t answer, I’ll let you in.”
Tapping on Beck’s door and hoping a stranger answered was awkward, but she supposed he couldn’t just barge in on someone staying with the doctor.
Raine lightly rapped her knuckles on the solid wood and took the fruit basket back in hand. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, the door flung open. “So you’re back, Liam? What is the—” The blonde standing there fixed her scowl on Raine. “Who are you?”
Raine couldn’t breathe. Statuesque, sexy, and lean, the British bombshell looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of a lingerie catalog, especially wearing daring red peekaboo lace undergarments. Despite the woman’s mussed hair, crimson lips, and gentle flush, the most terrifying thing of all was her familiarity.
Weeks ago, she’d Googled Liam’s ex-wife. Now she wished she hadn’t. She looked even more gorgeous in person.
The woman shifted her attention to the doorman, who gaped beside Raine, and gave him a haughty glare. “You may leave.”
The doorman blushed profusely, then backed away, disappearing into the elevator.
“Gwyneth.” The shell-shocked whisper fell from Raine’s lips. She almost couldn’t keep the heavy basket from slipping through her numb fingers.
“Who the devil are you? Oh, you must be the maid. You’re impertinent. Call me Ms. Sinclair. Come back in twenty minutes. I’ll need clean sheets and towels, and you’ll—”
