Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) (20 page)

He’s back, Mr. Bossy, the bulldozer. “Yes,” I hiss out. “I read the note, but I’m not having this ass get the best of me, Michael.” I stand up and pace around my apartment. I grab the locket my parents gave me, wishing they were alive. “I refuse to give him the gratification of knowing that he frightens the hell out of me. If I do, he’ll feel he won.
I will not
cancel the trip.”

Michael takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. He rubs his hands over his face and threads his fingers through his hair. He tugs around his neck, removes his tie, and frees two buttons from his shirt. “Trent is on his way; he’s in the area. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“Do you know what drives me insane, Michael?”

“Tell me, Ariana.” His soft tone touches my heart.

I pace again, agitated, waving my hands in the air. I brush my fingers through my hair, and the clip falls to the floor. My hair falls softly past my shoulders. I pick up the barrette and place it on the counter. I try again, and I can understand why men do this. I’m rather soothed by the action.

“How does he know my every move? I thought Trent went over this apartment. He’s like a disgusting bug lingering somewhere within the cracks of the walls.” I plop myself back on the sofa and remove my shoes. The intercom goes off, and I stand up and walk over to the box to tell security to let Trent up.

Chapter 17

The Locket

Trent charges in like a hurricane, overpowering the room with his broad, expansive solidity. I swear he and Joanne would make a perfect couple. I even witnessed the sparks between the two last night.

Michael stands up to greet Trent with a handshake and a quick embrace. Trent, all smiles, rushes over to me, picks me up, and enfolds me with one of his famous bear hugs, which suck the air right out of me. He places me down, and his eyes are focused on my neck. I stare at him guarded.

Trent places his fingers over his lips and mouths the sound, “Shhh” to both of us. He pulls out a pen and pad from his jacket. “So how are you, Ari?” He asks, sounding nonchalant.

I’m getting nervous and antsy now. I have no idea what’s whirling in his head, and neither does Michael from the facial expressions he’s making. I play along. “Michael and I had dinner with a potential client.”

Trent is furiously writing, and when he finished, he tears it out of a small spiral pad and hands it to me. I frown at him with confusion, and I do as he instructed. I detach the heart-shaped locket I’ve worn for years and place it in the palm of his hand.

He inspects the piece carefully. He pries it open. What is he doing?

Both Michael and I stare at one another, bemused.

Trent removes a tiny disk the size of a small battery watch and drops it on the counter. He pulls out my meat tenderizer from a kitchen drawer and smashes the disk. “Ariana, someone installed a remote control listening device in your locket.”

My knees go weak, and I fall on the sofa. “How?” Michael joins me and holds my hand.

“This is a voice transmitter, which is used for long-distance audio surveillance and triggered by a remote control. Another name for the device is a sleeper transmitter. The standby time is up to four years.

I gasp. Oh, no. “You’ve lost me. I wear this almost every day. How is it possible?”

“Let’s start from the beginning. Who gave you the locket?” Trent asks.

“I received the locket from my parents’ for my twentieth birthday right before they . . . ” I close my eyes against the memories. “They died,” I whisper.

Michael squeezes my hand for reassurance.

“How did they die, Ari?” Trent asks, leaning against the counter.

“They died in a car accident along with my eighteen-year-old sister, Sophia.” Losing both my parents’ and only sister was devastating. All because the driver thought he was well enough to drive after two drinks. God was he ever wrong, and he survived without even a scratch.

“Take your time sweetheart,” Michael says,

“Do you ever remember lending the locket to anyone, or having it cleaned?” Trent asks.

“Danny, my ex-husband, offered to bring my necklace to a jeweler for cleaning. At first I objected, but he convinced me if I wanted my gift from my parents’ to last, I needed to care for it. So I gave in,” I explain, tapping my foot on the floor.

I bury my face in my hands, as the images of my poor parents’ and sister’s lifeless bodies burst before me. I stiffen when Michael’s hand gently caresses my back.

“Relax, Ariana,” he whispers, and my tension begins to ease.

I shudder as a cold chill washes over me. I close my eyes for a moment, and a warm blanket is being placed over my back. I lift my head to find Michael standing over me. I smile. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Can you answer one more question?” Trent asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

“What did Danny do for a living?”

“He owned a software company,” I answer.

“Was the company sold?” Trent asks.

“I can’t answer your question since I never cared what happened after I identified his body, but it’s located in Galveston. I can give you his lawyer’s name. Unfortunately, I inherited all of his assets. I told the lawyer to sell everything and give the money to charity.”

Trent kisses my forehead. “Thanks, Ari.”

I gasp, and a light bulb goes off in my head. I immediately get up, and the blanket falls from my shoulders pooling on the polished wood floor around my feet. Michael picks it up and places it back on the sofa and walks towards the kitchen to lean up against the counter with a puzzled look on his face.

“Trent,” I voice with excitement and start pacing around the room.

“What is it?”

“Two or three weeks ago, when I was leaving for Colorado, I left the necklace on my bathroom vanity. Do you think he planted the device in my locket when he was in the apartment?” I smile as everything starts to become clearer. “This all makes sense now. His first e-mail was right after I flew out to Denver for the seminar.”

Trent rushes’ over, enveloping me in his bigger-than-ever body and squeezes the air from my poor lungs. I’m sure they recoil whenever he shows his presence.

“You are a genius. I’ll hire you if you ever want to work for me,” he offers, his eyes twinkling with joy.

“Nah,” I reply, shaking my head, “but thank you for the proposal.”

“Well, pretty darlin’, I’m off to do some investigating.” Trent flashes his dazzling smile with a wink.

“Trent, do you think she should leave for Italy? I would go with her, but there’s an emergency, and Mark and I need to fly out to Hong Kong tomorrow,” Michael says, and he looks my way. “Sorry, I meant to tell you earlier.”

I nod. “No problem.”

Trent takes a glimpse at me, and from the expression on my face, he has no doubt I’m determined to go. “I’ll get Janet, an ex-FBI agent on the same flight and the hotel you’ll be staying in, and don’t worry, she’ll be discreet. Satisfied, Ari?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not. This fuck is well aware of her trip to Italy. What assurances are you willing to give me that nothing will happen to her?” Michael snaps back at his brother, pointing his finger at him.

“Michael, there are no guarantees in life,” he says with a monotone voice, and has a fixed look on Michael for a long period, and my heart begins to fall apart when I see the sadness in their eyes. Trent turns away from me with a pained look on his face as he catches me staring at him.

Michael’s eyes are glistening as he stares at Trent with grief etched over his features.

Trent clears his throat, breaking the silence and says, “Janet will see to her safety and well-being. Ari, I am requesting one thing from you.”

“Yes, Trent?”

“Michael needs to stay the night with you. By now, your predator has already realized we figured out his game, and I can bet my life that he’s in rare form.”

“I had no intention of leaving her alone,” Michael spits out, pushing himself off the counter and paces around the room enraged.

“I’m not going to argue.” This whole mess is frightening, and I still can’t wrap the fact around my head that he placed a listening device in my locket.

So that’s how he knew of my whereabouts. The bastard heard every damn word I said and used that information to torment me, making me think that he was watching me. He may have even heard me in the shower, and imagined me naked. Ugh! I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head with disgust.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to walk Trent to the elevator doors,” Michael says. I nod and sit on the sofa, numb and exhausted. I close my eyes and find myself drifting off to sleep.

I’m jolted awake by an unusual sound, and I find myself cocooned between Michael’s warm arms and his chest. He chuckles when he notices I’m awake. I smile with relief, and I place my head back on his chest and hear the little pitter-patter of his tender heart beating against my ear.

He sits me on the bed. “Do you need help undressing?” He asks.

I shake my head. “I’m fine, thank you, Michael,” I answer.

He leans down, his mouth to my ear, and my body starts to tingle just from his breath. “Good night, Ariana,” he whispers, and he kisses me and walks away. Suddenly I feel cold and alone as if a part of me vanished. Deep down inside I wish he would lie beside me and hold me against his warm, solid body for the rest of the night.

I get dressed and head straight beneath the covers and pray I sleep through the night without any terrifying nightmares.

***

The fresh smell of brewed coffee wakes me up, and the first sight I see as my eyes open is Michael leaning against my door, his arms across his chest.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He smiles, and his gorgeous face lights up.

“Hi,” I murmur, all sleepy-eyed as I cover my mouth to yawn and stretch every muscle in my body.

“How did you sleep last night?” He asks.

“Like a baby, thank you for asking.” I get up and wrap my robe over me.

“When do you need to be at the airport?” He questions and kisses the top of my head. “I have to call Trent with your itinerary.”

“My flight doesn’t depart until the early evening, I think at four forty-five on Lufthansa. There’s plenty of time.”

“Mine is in the afternoon. I still need to go home, pack and get a few files from my office. Go shower and dress so we can indulge in a nice breakfast together.”

“Yes, Captain,” I say, saluting.

“Be careful, Ariana, or I’m going to salute your bare little bottom with my hand,” he says with a playful shove and walks out.

“In your dreams,” I yell out.

I walk into the kitchen after my shower and I’m struck with a mouthwatering view of Michael, cooking, looking all gorgeous wearing my apron. I’m going to miss him while I’m away. He turns and my pulse quickens.

His million-dollar smile emerges. He tosses the spatula into the sink, slowly walks toward me like a god, wrapping his burly hands around my neck, and kisses me hard and I melt right into him. His lips tasting like little gummy bears, so sweet and soft, so delicious. He wrenches away, stares into me with famished eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he says with panting breaths. “Now, let’s eat.” He turns, pointing toward the counter set for two.

How can he think of eating after that intoxicating kiss we just shared. My heart is still racing hard against my chest. He’s unbelievable.

I stare at the beautiful platter of food set before me and begin to salivate. “You made pancakes?” I say with surprise. He never ceases to amaze me.

“Do you approve?” He stares at me, waiting for my approval like a young boy who made breakfast for the first time for his mom. I want to kiss him.

“Yes, very much, with jam.”

“No syrup?” He frowns, showing an expression of disappointment.

I shake my head. “Jam, please.” I beg.

He goes into the refrigerator and retrieves the raspberry jam. Amazing how he can already find his way around the kitchen.

“Thank you so much,” I say cheerfully.

We sit, indulging in Michael’s homemade pancakes, which bring fond memories of my childhood when my mom and dad used to cook together, making us a big breakfast every Sunday morning.

Michael pulls my chin toward him, inching his way closer until we are nose-to-nose. My breath hitches and I writhe in my seat as I feel his tongue caress the corner of my mouth, causing the area to tingle and making me light-headed.

“Raspberry jam,” he whispers with a seductive tone, and my heart faints from his masculine, sexy voice.

“Oh,” is all I can muster as the goose bumps manifest over my sensitive skin.

We finish our breakfast in silence, and I help him clean up. I wish we had more time together, but Joe phoned earlier, informing him he’s out front waiting for him.

I walk him out of the building to a brisk, cool breeze and a few scattered clouds. Joe is standing by the limo, waiting to open the door.

“Good morning, Miss DiMarco,” Joe greets me, dressed in a grey suit and his copper hair combed back.

“Good morning, Joe, a pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you, it’s nice to see you as well.”

“When are you due to come back?” Michael asks, pulling my attention away from Joe.

I wrap my arms around his waist, never wanting to let go. “I’ll be arriving Sunday night. What about you? When will you be coming back from Hong Kong?”

He rubs his slightly stubble face and neck, which adds sex appeal to his appearance.

“I’ll be back on Monday. My flight leaves at two fifty-five.”

I smile, and I find myself already missing him. We give each other one last embrace. “Be careful, Ariana. Please.”

“Yes, of course. Try not to worry so much. Blake and the rest of the group will be with me, along with Trent’s bodyguard. I won’t be alone. Jonathan reserved a two-bedroom suite,” I say hoping it will alleviate his anxiety.

Still cocooned in his arms, he inhales the scent of my hair and threads his fingers through it, carefully brushing down the strands with soft, tender strokes. “You smell delicious.” He tugs me closer against his body. His lips meet mine, and our kiss intensifies. I’m lost in the moment, without a care in the world, absorbing him like a thirsty sponge, feeding through his toxic kiss.