My stomach twisted again. “Did you send somebody else with Randy this morning?”
“You mean like in the same car?”
“No. I mean, in another car. There was someone following us almost the entire way to your building this morning.”
His jaw clenched, and he turned his gaze to the window. “I did not.” He looked back at me. “Did you see who it was?”
I shook my head. “They were too far behind us, and the windows were dark. I shouldn’t have said anything, I just thought—”
“No. You have to tell me these things,” he said.
His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket. His eyes ran across something on the screen and a frown formed on his lips.
“Bad news?” I asked.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Work stuff.”
Before he could say anything else, we arrived at the restaurant. Parker opened the door to let us out, but Declan caught his attention. “Can you give us just a minute?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Dark.”
He shut the door, and we were alone in the dim interior of the Bentley. Declan shifted on the seat to face me, his expression serious. “If someone was following you, that means someone was probably following your dad.”
The sick feeling returned to my stomach. I wasn’t sure how hard I’d been clinging to the hope that it really was just an accident out there on the road that day until now. Knowing it might not be an accident made me feel horrible. But because I still wasn’t sure, I shook my head. “I could be wrong. I have no idea what it looks like when somebody is tailing you. I—”
“Don’t,” Declan said. He brushed his fingers down my cheek. “You have to trust your gut. If you think you saw somebody following you that may be what was happening. And you have to tell me these things. In fact, we're going to have to have somebody outside your building all the time. And we should also—”
“Wait.” I pulled my hand from his to run it through my hair. “I don’t know if that’s what happened. I don’t want to worry about something else when I still have my dad to deal with and figuring all this out…”
Declan clasped his hand around mine again in a warm and reassuring grip. “Royal. Take a breath. We’re in this together, and I don’t want you to have to worry either. We’ll figure it out.”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely.”
He leaned in and slid his tongue across the seam of my lips. I opened for him, already drawn in by the strong tone of his voice, the warmth of his fingers, his assurance that he would take care of it all. Because right now, when I had no clue what to do and I was tired of holding it all together, that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to take a breath and let go of the worry, to let somebody else handle it.
He massaged my tongue with his, driving in deep and squeezing his hand in the back of my hair.
I moaned softly and pressed closer. My breasts mashed against his chest, nipples hardening into tight buds. “Declan,” I murmured, my hand clenching around the lapel of his jacket.
It wasn’t warning in my voice, it was longing—urgency—the need to be as close to him as possible.
His free hand slid under my blouse and ran up my side, the pressure soft enough to tickle my ribs. I shifted, and then his fingers moved just as softly on the lace of my bra.
The dull ache between my legs built to a crescendo, shuttling away all my previous worries. All I wanted at this moment was to focus on Declan.
Hell, I was halfway to leaning back on the seat and letting him take me right there.
Then Declan’s phone buzzed again.
His lips left mine and he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Work again?” I asked, my voice breathless.
“Probably.”
But something in his voice told me he wasn’t telling the entire truth.
I reached up to fix my hair, but Declan was already reaching out and smoothing it into place.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “Absolutely.”
Then he opened the door and held out his hand for me to take it and step out.
I didn’t miss the way he glanced at our surroundings, taking in the other cars and the people nearby. I tried not to let it worry me, but I knew I’d made him tense. It also made me wonder if it had anything to do with the phone calls or texts he seemed to be avoiding.
He ushered me inside and spoke in a low confident voice to the host, asking her to give us a table near the back and bring a bottle of champagne. Then he turned to me and put his lips against my ear.
“I need to make a call. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll be right back.”
Surprised, I looked up into his eyes. He gave me a nod of reassurance and then turned to the doors we came into. He strode out, already pulling his cell phone from his pocket.
“This way please,” the hostess said to me.
I tried to ignore the pit of unease in my stomach. Declan was a busy man. He had people to talk to and people who needed him. But dammit, I wanted to know what was bothering him.
Same goes for you, my brain fired back. I was sure Declan was just as curious about what was going on in my head and yet I was holding back. This was new to both of us, I supposed.
I
