She blinked at him before her eyes shot down to stare at the cream carpet. “You can’t read minds. You don’t know what I’m thinking.” She paused, realising that wasn’t what she meant to say. “I mean, I’m thinking that I need to get dressed and you need to leave for me to do that.”
“No.” He folded his arms and turned into a wall.
“No?” It came out shaky. Did he want to watch her getting dressed? That was all kinds of wrong.
“We’re heading out and I need a minute to talk to you.”
“I need to get dressed.”
“Then do it. I’m not stopping you.”
Her face was so hot she felt like her hair might catch fire. “I can’t do that in front of you.”
“Fine.” He turned and gave her his back. “Get on with it. I want to look in your eyes when I say my piece.”
Julia just stood frozen to the spot.
“Julia.” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “Get dressed or I’ll do it for you.”
His words jerked her into action. She dropped the towel and fumbled for her dress, pulling it over her head and hoping the dampness from her underwear wouldn’t seep through the material. Although, the ugly brown fabric probably wouldn’t show the marks. She smoothed her hand down the dress. It was crinkled, but it covered her from below the knee to under her chin. It was her invisibility cloak. She’d bought it especially so as not to attract any attention to herself.
“You done?” Joe’s voice jerked her back to reality with a thump.
“Ah, yes.” She slipped into her low heeled brown pumps. The last time she’d seen her sister, Belinda had pointed out that the Queen wore exactly the same shoes. She then threatened to take Julia shopping. It had taken half an hour to talk her fashion junkie sister out of that idea.
Joe turned slowly and Julia waited nervously for whatever he had to say. It had to be about the plan she’d helped Megan execute. She was under no illusion that she was as much to blame as Megan. In fact probably more so. They’d all had a role to play in the planning: Rachel’s had been oversight and pharmaceuticals, Elle’s was tech and getaway car, Julia’s was ideas, coordination and strategy and Megan, well, she was the muscle.
“I know what you’re going to say.” Julia held up a hand in the hope it would keep him where he was, which was close enough. “I shouldn’t have helped Megan. It was irresponsible.”
“Yeah, it was, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.” He stalked towards her.
Julia backed up until she almost bent backwards over the desk.
“Joe?” She hated that her voice was a trembling squeak.
He placed a hand on either side of her, palms flat on the desk. His face was inches from her, his eyes dark with an intensity she had no experience in reading.
“Joe?” It was a whisper.
“Here’s the thing.” His voice was chocolate smooth. “Yeah, you were in the wrong, but I get why you did it. I do.”
Then why didn’t she feel reassured by his words? And why was her mouth suddenly dry? Dealing with Joe was akin to living in a country where she didn’t know the customs and didn’t speak the language.
“Good?” she whispered. “Thanks?”
His eyes crinkled. Amused. Yet still intense. It was disconcerting.
“I realised something today while you four were off playing renegade.”
“Okay?” Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk.
“I realised that I’m done being patient. When I heard what you lot had done, when I saw Megan walking in there alone, I was angry. I’ll admit it. But mainly I was scared out of my mind that you’d put yourself on Abramovich’s radar.”
His words sucked the air out of her lungs, making it hard to breathe. “Why would that make you scared?”
“Because…” Joe’s head fell forward, his eyes closed. “You would have been in danger. Even more so than you are now. And Rudi Abramovich isn’t someone you want after you.”
“I understand,” she said. It was his need to protect that had taken a hit.