Her eyes flashed. “I don’t need a mother hen hovering over me,” Krys all but shouted at him.
“No, you need a keeper,” he informed her in an easygoing voice. “End of story.”
She curled her hands into fists, frustrated beyond words. “But—!”
He rose, towering over her, the immovable object confronting the irresistible force. “Look, I am not explaining to your sister when she comes back from her honeymoon how you happened to wind up dead even though there were enough warning signs for even a simpleton to realize that you were playing with fire. Now, I either come with you when you talk to Jacobs, or you don’t go. It’s as simple as that.
“Don’t forget,” he pointed out in a voice that was so low-key it made her want to scream, “Claire was killed—murdered—in Aurora. That makes this the police department’s case. My case, since you all but dropped it in my lap.”
She blew out a ragged breath. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”
The smile he gave her just managed to further incense her. “There will be arguments in the future that you will win,” he told her in a tolerant voice. “Probably a lot of them, given how stubborn you are, but you’re not winning this one, no,” he confirmed her suspicion. “I’ll even pretend to be your assistant again if that helps to make my presence more acceptable to this CEO.”
She uttered a totally exasperated sound, then said, “Okay, you win. I surrender,” Krys said. She pressed her lips together, making a decision. “Now I guess I’ll get some rest or I’ll wind up falling asleep in the middle of the interview tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” Morgan said, nodding. “Good night,” he told her, saying the words to her back as she walked away, heading to her bedroom.
He was surprised when she remained there.
Krys stayed in her bedroom until a few minutes past five in the morning. At that point, she was fairly confident that Morgan had probably fallen asleep, taking one of his “catnaps.” The house had been still for a while now. There was no sound coming from anywhere, other than the intermittent hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen whenever it turned over for a few minutes.
Rising out of bed in slow motion, Krys got dressed even slower and quieter. She took care not to disturb anything that might create a noise that would alert her infuriating bodyguard. She knew Morgan had a job to do, but she had a job to do as well.
She supposed that in an odd sort of way, those jobs overlapped. Someone had killed Claire just because the woman chose to tell the truth and Claire had chosen to tell that truth to her.
If she hadn’t prodded, Claire would be alive. She was still having trouble containing her guilt over that. At the very least, she owed the woman something for what had happened to her. She intended to get to the bottom of this, never mind that the same person who killed Claire might also be trying to kill her.
All because almighty profits were being threatened.
She was the first to admit that she liked money as much as anyone, but certainly not at the expense of someone’s life. That just couldn’t be allowed to happen, Krys silently swore.
Lord, she had never gotten dressed this slowly, she thought. Even as a kid, she would hurry into her clothes, whether she was going out to play, or to school, or just to run errands for her father. Moving this slowly was killing her. Her arms practically ached as she slipped on her two-piece suit, shoes and dark-colored pantyhose. She wanted to look conservative and presentable for this interview.
At the last minute, she decided to carry her shoes rather than wear them so her heels wouldn’t make noise on the tile that lined the entranceway.
Carrying her shoes in one hand, her laptop slung over her shoulder and held fast with the other, Krys held her breath as she almost silently tiptoed past Morgan.
She had her hand on the doorknob and was about to open the front door when she heard Morgan’s resonant voice calmly ask, “Going somewhere?”
Her heart slammed against her chest and she froze, then slowly turned around, fury in her eyes as she glared at Morgan.
“How long have you been awake?” she demanded.
“The entire time that you were engineering your great escape.” She found his smile irritating beyond words. “I was never asleep.”
Her initial surprise gave way to anger. “Then why didn’t you say something?”
“I just wanted to see how far you were going to carry out this little pantomime of yours. I’m impressed,” he said as he rose and crossed to her. “I didn’t know you could move that quietly, or that slowly. Although, if you had made it out the door, the surveillance detail I have posted would have stopped you.”
Damn it. She’d been so focused on getting out without waking him, she’d forgotten all about the protective detail he had told her about.
“I’m glad you find me so entertaining, Cavanaugh,” she retorted.
Standing beside her now, he looked down into her face. “Oh, trust me, Kowalski, I find you a lot of things.”
For a moment, she could have sworn he was going to kiss her, the way he had when she had broken down about Claire. But then that moment was gone and her eyes were boring holes into him.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Well, that’s up to you. But since you’re all dressed, I’d suggest that we go out and have breakfast and then begin our day. You did mention that there were some other people you wanted to talk to before you interviewed that mucky-muck who walks on pharmaceutical water.”
He wasn’t calling Jacobs anything that she hadn’t already thought of in her head, but for the time being, she was holding her animosity in check. She didn’t know if he could do the same—and it was important
