Hired Hunter (The Rover 2)
I wanted to groan out loud, but I kept it inside as he walked to the door, gathered his keys and jacket, and opened it.
“You can leave my apartment keys here.”
He turned, winked, and exited, taking my keys with him.
Chapter Four
The dress in the box didn’t contain an order to wear it. I considered, briefly, putting on my favorite sweats to attend to his grace at his convenience. But in the spirit of continuing our working relationship, I wore the dress.
It was black cotton, with a slight sheen to it, with cap sleeves, a modest waist that gave me room to breathe, and surprisingly hid the wrap around my ribs as I healed from Esteban’s attention. It cut out into a bell shape over my hips and modestly stopped at my knees. I wasn’t sure if he’d invited me to dinner or a job interview.
I pulled my hair into a tight chignon and pinned it in place. With it up, I tucked the pink ends inside the twist. I almost looked presentable.
The black SUV that Fin’s instructions had said would arrive, pulled up outside my house in the evening. I arrived at the mansion after sunset. The guards were in place, all stony faced and not glancing my way. I couldn’t forget that too many of them had seen me flat on my back unconscious. I hated that.
The inside of the house was the same. The fae royalty version of Downton Abbey. All polished wood, gold leaf, and soaring ceilings. I found Fin in the dining room.
He sat at the long table next to a single empty chair with his phone pressed to his ear. He checked his watch when I entered, then scanned me from my simple black ballet flats to the crown of my conservative head.
“You’re on time.”
I took the seat to his left and settled into the chair. “Is that a question, or are you making an observation?”
He held up a finger to me, which I debated slapping away. “The captain says nice dress.”
I pasted on a sickly-sweet smile and said, “You can tell the captain to get pegged by a stalagmite.”
Fin cleared his throat.
“Zoey says hello,” he said into his phone. Then he hung up and shifted in his seat to face me. “You do look lovely.”
Oh, I knew, and I was about to get some payback. “Why, thank you. I brought something for you too.”
His forehead wrinkled as he scanned me, looking for the mysterious item. One guard brought in a white box, similar to the one he’d given me, but this one was larger.
Confusion and amusement warred on his features as he took the box, set it on the edge of the table, and lifted the lid. “You brought me clothes.”
I picked up the already poured wine glass by my plate and took a sip. “Observation or question?”
He blinked at me a few times, then closed the lid.
I used the glass to wave toward the door. “Please, take your time. I’ll wait.”
“You want me to change?”
“You get to dress me like a Barbie. Turnabout’s fair play. I recently came into more money than I need. This seemed like an entertaining way to spend it.”
His hands flexed on the box. Part of
me wanted him to fight me on it; the other part of me wanted to see if he would follow my instructions.
A few tense seconds passed, then he stood, buttoned his black suit jacket, picked up the box, and left.
I laughed when he disappeared out the door. Definitely points in his favor. Just how much did he need me to work with him that he was willing to put up with this?
How much did I want to be here, that I put up with it too?
Ten minutes later, he returned, and I took my time savoring the look of him in a fitted navy blue suit, white shirt, and black tie. A pair of star-shaped cufflinks glinted as he walked, and he’d braided his hair the way he had at my house.