In His Keeping (Slow Burn 2)

He wasn’t pretty by a long shot. There was nothing polished or refined about him, though she knew he and his brothers were wealthy. He had a rough edge to him that would always give people pause and, if they were smart, make them wary of ever crossing him.

She was hiring him, and she should be the one who held the power and yet he thoroughly intimidated her. He looked . . . hard. Like nothing ever unnerved him. And perhaps that was a good thing. She needed hard and ruthless if her parents were going to be found.

“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” Beau queried as he studied her.

She tried to push the sudden panic down, but it nipped persistently at her nape and she knew she’d utterly failed to keep it from her expression. She’d never been adept at hiding her emotions. Her father had tried to teach her to be unreadable, but it was a futile effort. She just wasn’t wired that way. And she knew, judging by Beau’s expression, that she’d failed miserably in keeping the dismay from her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My father’s security detail would most likely know the locations of all his residences. I don’t know about all of them. I’ll have to check into a hotel under an alias. My father provided ID and passports as well as cash in the safe-deposit box.”

Once again, Beau’s eyebrow lifted and she could only imagine what he was thinking. It did sound like her father was some sort of crime lord, because he shrouded himself in secrecy and security. She’d honestly never given it a thought. It was the way her father had been since she was old enough to remember, so she accepted it as normal, never considering how others would view his extreme security measures.

She assumed all he did was in protection of her. So that her powers would never be scrutinized by the public. And she’d failed him and her mother. Everything they’d done for the last twenty-four years had been washed away in a single moment of panic.

“I understand that your first concern is your parents and their safety,” Beau said gently. “But you are in danger as well. You can’t think only of them.”

“Tell me what I should do then,” she said, trying to keep the helplessness from her voice. She was an adult woman still emotionally dependent on her parents. She didn’t like the fact that she had no idea what to do, what action to take, now that her father wasn’t there guiding her with a gentle hand. It embarrassed and shamed her.

“For now, you come home with me,” Beau said. “Security is extremely tight, and I can be assured of your safety until we figure out our next step. Do you know who Ramie St. Claire is?”

Her brows knitted at the sudden change of subject.

“Yes, of course. Who doesn’t?”

Ramie St. Claire had been all over the news in the last year. She was a psychic who possessed extraordinary abilities to locate kidnap victims.

Ari’s breath caught in her throat. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? If Ramie could track victims, perhaps she could find her parents.

But as soon as the thought hit her, she sagged, momentarily deflated. How could she possibly contact the young psychic when she’d completely disappeared from the public eye?

“She’s married to Caleb,” Beau continued. “I can’t promise you that she’ll help. Caleb is very protective of her and her gift comes at a very high price because she experiences everything the victim does. But if you have something—an object—that was a particular favorite of your mother or father, or something they used frequently, it’s possible she could locate them using that object.”

Ari’s heart leapt and her pulse stuttered, causing her breath to hitch uncomfortably.

“Cover your hair back up as you had it before and put your sunglasses back on. I’ll summon our driver to meet us in front. Usually I drive myself, but I’m not parked close and I don’t want you exposed or alone in the time it takes me to go get it and pick you up.”

Ari blinked, wondering how they’d gotten from her wanting to hire him to her going home with him and him taking over completely. But even as she found herself questioning him, she obeyed without hesitation, redoing her disguise.

When she was finished, Beau picked up the phone and dialed a number. She listened while he tersely informed the driver to pick them up directly in front of the entrance to the building. When he finished the call to his driver, he inquired as to how she’d gotten here, and when she explained about the BMW parked curbside not far from the entrance to the building, he shook his head, frowning, then placed yet another call and instructed someone to pick it up and deliver it to Beau’s home.

While she’d certainly hoped he’d agree to help her, she hadn’t quite expected this kind of reaction. It felt as though her entire world had been upended and she wasn’t in control of any aspect.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. But then when had she truly ever been in absolute control of her life?

As Beau rose from his chair, she did the same, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself. But, as she’d already acknowledged, she had no other choice. She knew she couldn’t trust any of her father’s men, even if they weren’t all traitors. The safest course was to assume they were all after her for whatever reason.

Which left the men—man—her father had always told her to seek out. If her father had placed his trust and her well-being into Beau Devereaux’s hands, then surely she could do the same. She’d never questioned her father’s judgment before and she wasn’t about to start now.