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He paused and glanced down at her. She realized they were outside his office door. Did he have a secret entrance leading down to the dungeon from his office?
That would be just too cool.
“I don’t have a dungeon.”
“Oh.”
“I do have a basement. But it’s not for holding prisoners.”
“Okay, that’s good.” She heaved out a breath of relief.
“I have somewhere far worse where I keep people who lie and betray me.”
And now she was back to feeling ill. Was he trying to scare her?
Because it was working.
Opening the office door, he drew her inside.
“You know, I think I want to change my answer,” she said as he pointed to the sofa for her to sit.
Why was he being so quiet? It was creeping her out. Shouldn’t he be yelling at her? Instead, all he did was pour himself a Scotch, then he stood in front of her. Okay, that was kind of intimidating.
“You want to change your answer?”
“Uh-huh. I am on the run from someone. I need you to save me.”
The lie tasted like bitter ash in her mouth.
What was she doing?
He gave a laugh that was devoid of any amusement. “Cat, if you’re in need of saving, you look for a white knight, not a dark villain.” He sat on the coffee table and trapped her legs between his. She gulped as he set the Scotch down and started rolling up his shirt sleeves.
Fuck. Shit. What was he planning to do?
And damn, he had nice forearms.
Not. The. Time. Cat.
But there was just something about a man who had his shirt arms rolled up . . . so sexy.
“Do not lie, Cat. It won’t go well for you.”
She gulped. “Fine. Right. I’m not hiding from anyone. Not really. I won’t lie. I promise.”
“Unfortunately, your promises mean very little to me now.”
Ouch. That hurt more than it should. She dropped her face down to avoid the accusation in his eyes.
With a surprisingly gentle touch, he tilted her face back. “You don’t get to avoid this conversation, Cat. When you make mistakes, lie and deceive, there are consequences.”
She hated that he was calling her Cat. She longed to hear one of his nicknames for her.
Was everything over now?
Of course it was. Tears filled her eyes, and he carefully wiped them away. This was worse than him being mean to her. That she could take. She’d fire back.
But this . . . she didn’t know how to fight this.
“I’m sorry, Alejandro. Really. Honestly.”
He studied her face, as though searching for the truth. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Try with your name.” Then he took another sip of Scotch. “I’d offer you one of these, but apparently, you’re not old enough to drink.”
She winced. Ouch.
“I haven’t used Pérez, my real last name, in a long time. Mama wouldn’t let us use it. She moved us around a lot, especially when I was younger after my dad died. I’ve used Smithson as a last name for years. It’s my guardians’ last name.”
“Jake and Elsie.”
She shot her gaze to his. “They don’t know about this! They don’t know anything!”
He narrowed his gaze. “You’re protective of them.”
“Mierda! I just gave you a weakness to use against me, didn’t I?”
He tapped his fingers against his desk. “It’s never a good idea to show weakness to the enemy.”
“Is that what you are? My enemy?”
“That depends, I guess.”
“On?” She was going to be sick.
“You. Why are you here? What is it you want from me?”
“Just answers! I swear, that’s it. I’m not here to hurt you. Unless you had something to do with my dad’s death, I guess.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your dad? Why would I know anything about his death? Who was he?”
“His name . . . his name was Peter Davidson.”
He frowned. “That name’s familiar, but I don’t know where from.”
“Apparently, he was also known as Pirate Pete.”
He froze. “Your dad was Pirate Pete?”
41
“Yes,” she whispered. “From what I know about him, he worked for you before he died. After he died, Mama took me away from here.”
Alejandro looked thoughtful. “He didn’t exactly work for me. Pirate Pete got that name because he was good at sourcing things. Usually by unlawful means. When you needed something no one else could find, you went to Pirate Pete. I used him quite often, but he wasn’t one of my men.”
“He wasn’t? Oh . . . that wasn’t what I was told.” She swallowed heavily.
“Then you were told wrong.”
Crap. Had all this been for nothing?
“Do you know how he died?” she asked, her heart racing. “Mama would never tell me.”
And Cat hated being kept in the dark.
“From what I can remember, he was shot.” He leaned his forearms on his thighs. He was so close to her and yet there was this huge distance between them.
She wished she could curl up in his lap, give him all of her worries and fears. He’d take care of them, like he always looked after her.
