“So...” He lifted his hands and let them fall.
“Maybe I should... We should... Maybe tomorrow? I’ll be heading back to Santa Raquel sometime in the morning. We could meet for a late breakfast?”
His gaze was easy. Comfortable. All Michael. “The usual spot?”
“Yeah.” Her stomach settled. Life was...good.
She smiled.
He smiled back.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY HAD BREAKFAST Saturday morning as planned—he’d known immediately why she’d asked for the meeting. Any time she was afraid she’d be tempted to stumble on the road to her new life, she had him right around the corner, waiting. He knew she didn’t need him. The woman didn’t know her own force or see her will of steel. But until she did, he was happy to stand in for her.
As expected, she showed up without makeup, her hair in a ponytail, jeans on her gorgeous behind and a smile on her face. She’d attended one after-party—hosted by her costar—had one drink, and was home in bed shortly after midnight.
She’d be in Santa Raquel all weekend, and though they never saw each other there unless it was at the Stand, he was content just having her close.
He didn’t need to be with her. To touch her or talk to her. He just liked knowing she was around. Safely and happily ensconced with her family. Taking her walks on the beach.
Then on Tuesday morning, during a routine search, he found another photo, this one with Bo. They were in evening wear—a black tux with royal blue tie for Bo, a royal blue, sparkling and extremely low-cut dress for Kacey. He was holding her in his arms, as though carrying her. Again her eyes were nearly closed. She could have been caught midblink, but it didn’t look that way. Bo was gazing at her adoringly. And the caption read, “With a man like this to save the day, who needs the Rich and Loyal?”
Twenty minutes after he’d seen the photo, his phone rang.
“I know,” he said as he picked up.
“You’ve seen it? My agent just sent it over, but I’m on my way to the studio and can’t stop to open it. I have a call in an hour.” Her voice had a bit of tunnel echo. She was speaking through the car system.
“I’ve seen it.” He’d been at the office since six for another client who was hacked during the night.
“And?”
“What color dress did you wear on Friday night?”
“Royal blue, why?”
“Was it cut down to your belly button?”
“No! Of course not! I show cleavage, I don’t go out undressed.” And then, hesitantly, she asked, “Why?”
“Did it have little diamond studs in the shape of a rose just above the breast?” On the strip of material that went over her shoulder. That’s what he focused on as he sat in his plush office behind a built-in cherrywood desk that spanned the entire width of the room and held five different flat screens.
Wallace, a recent college grad who was proving to be a valuable asset to MV Cyber Solutions, knocked once on his office door and came in, then backed out when Mike shook his head. He was working on the hacked food vendor’s case. Mike needed to talk with him as soon as possible.
“Yes.” Kacey’s tone was curt. And soft. As though her feelings were hurt. Yes, her dress was blue.
He tried not to feel her pain. To take her situation personally.
He failed. But he did his job. “Bo’s carrying you, Kace. The caption insinuates that you party hard and he’s there having your bac
k, taking care of you, every step of the way.”
So what if he was expounding on the words? The meaning was clear. Bo was good to her. For her.
“He did carry me. I was slipping, walking down the gangplank in my shoes when we were getting off the boat, and he scooped me up and carried me down. It was really sweet. Everyone clapped. But I was most definitely not drunk. I had water with lemon the entire time we were on the yacht. I got seasick once as a kid and wasn’t taking any chances.”
“And you felt fine once you hit land? You weren’t woozy or anything?”