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“But not a robot.” She shook her head. “Never mind. I want to leave, but I need to know if it is okay for me to return home.”
“My security team would like time to try to trace the listening devices back to their source.”
“That’s not necessary. My assistant ordered the phone stand and delivered it to me. She has access to a lot of my accessories, like the purse I was using tonight, because designers gift them in hopes they’ll be featured in the magazine. Skylar is the conduit for all swag that comes to me.”
“If she’s the one, it shouldn’t take much to find out, but we can’t assume that she is guilty because of proximity.”
But it was okay to assume that Jenna had been guilty because ofherproximity? She didn’t bother pointing out yet another flaw in his brothers’ and his thinking.
“I just want to go home.”
“If you will not stay here with me, please consider allowing me to get you a room in the hotel. If you give me a list of things you need, the security team can gather them for you.”
She’d planned to stay the night, but now she wanted anything but.
“Fine. Get a room for me sorted and my things delivered. I’ll text a list of what I want you can forward to your security people. I assume it will all be checked for any more bugs.”
Jenna did her best to ignore Dima’s presence beside her as she made her way to the room she would use for the night. He’d insisted on escorting her, and she had simply not been willing to argue. The sooner she got to her room, the sooner she could shut the door on him.
“I would feel better if you slept in my suite.” His tone was supremely patient.
She didn’t bother to respond. Jenna had no desire to spend any more time arguing with the arrogant prince.
They reached her door, and she stepped forward to swipe the key card that had been delivered by the helpful hotel staff.
“Jenna,” he said, his tone now tinged with exasperation. “Are you just going to ignore me?”
She turned and glared up at him. “Yes.” Then she stepped into the room and shut the door on his too handsome face.
She flipped the security lock, although she was sure his security people would be there shortly with her things. She stared around the room, not at all surprised that it was not a standard single, but a suite.
Albeit much, much smaller than the penthouse suite she’d just left, it had a living room and a bedroom, and presumably a bathroom through the open door beyond. There was even a tiny kitchenette area, though why she would need one for a single night’s stay she could not imagine.
For that matter, the living area was surplus to requirements. Jenna just needed a bed and a few hours of privacy to sleep.
Her knees started to wobble, and she stumbled to the sofa, plopping down.
Someone had been spying on her for at least a year, and despite Dima’s refusal tojump to conclusions, Jenna was pretty sure she knew who it was.
Listening to her phone conversations, listening to her meetings, maybe even when she talked to herself in her apartment when she cleaned or brainstormed a layout, as she was wont to do. It all felt so icky, like slime was dripping from the edges of her life.
Typically, Dima had only looked at it in terms of his family, but Jenna had access to fashion concepts sometimes months before they were made public. People and businesses who had trusted her with their time-sensitive information could have been scooped because of her, and she had no idea.
She remembered the debacle last year when an established design label who were notoriously unimaginative had come out with a brand-new line. It had all but mirrored the one a new designer had shared with Jenna in hopes of getting a spread in her magazine for its launch.
The established house had brought their line out two weeks before the new designer.
The designer had accused Jenna of revealing her designs. Jenna had denied it, of course. She’d known she’d done no such thing.
Not only had the designer’s new line been stolen, but her reputation had been damaged because she’d come for someone who everyone knew was trustworthy. Jenna’s reputation was longer-standing and unassailable.
It had been a mess.
And now? How could she not wonder if she had in fact been the source of the leak?
That designer had lost her startup money and been forced to go back to designing for someone else.
Jenna had felt bad for her, even when she thought she hadn’t been responsible. Now?
