Baddest Bad Boys(72)

“Had you set the alarm before going to bed?”

“Of course! But it didn’t go off.”

Max made a mental note to have the system thoroughly checked. “Look, I know you’ve had some incidents recently with e-mail.”

“How did you know that?”

“We’ve had some corporate problems. I hired an outside firm to assess risks and vulnerability.”

“And I was considered a risk?” She sounded offended.

“They looked at all key personnel and shareholders, Ellie. Routine stuff, including police reports and public records. I know about the stalker. Do you think these incidents are connected?”

For a moment he didn’t think she’d respond. Then she nodded. “I recognized something he said tonight, something he’d written in one of his messages.”

“What kind of messages does he send?”

“The cyber equivalent of heavy breathing—I’m-thinking-of-you-naked, that type of stuff.”

I’ll throttle him, Max thought. “When did this start?”

“Three weeks ago.” She rubbed her head.

About the same time the tabloids started running stories about her shares, he calculated. “Why did you wait so long to go to the police?”

“I pretty much blew it off until—” Her voice trailed off.

“Until what? You might as well tell me everything.”

“He sent a photograph of me, at a coffee shop. I’d been there less than an hour before. His last message said he wanted to watch me sleep.” Her shoulders dipped. “He obviously knows I live in New York, but I thought I’d be safe here.”

“Who knew you planned to come to Rockport?”

“No one. It was a last-minute decision and it was late when I left the penthouse.” She met his gaze now. “So how did you know where I went?”

“The limo service.” And it had been surprisingly easy to procure that information. Who else had gotten it?

“But how did you know I needed help?”

“I didn’t. To put it bluntly, I came because I was pissed you left Boston.” He could feel tension gather in her, but refused to drop the subject. Better they get it all out in the open. “I wasn’t happy to find Bridgette at the penthouse tonight. I didn’t invite her.”

She held up a hand. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I found your note, El.”

Silence. Pulling the blanket completely around her, she broke skin contact and tried to squirm sideways off his lap. Max stubbornly held her in place.

“Well, this is awkward,” she said finally. “My behavior at the penthouse was totally inappropriate, Max. I didn’t realize you and Bridgette were engaged.”

“Jesus Christ! We’re not. We’re not even dating, if it matters. Unfortunately, Bridgette’s been talking with a reporter. You obviously know what has been printed. You quoted it.”

ONE NIGHT. NO COMMITMENT, NO STRINGS, JUST SEX. He hadn’t liked having his infamous motto thrown in his face, especially by Ellie. So he’d concentrated on the first two words. One night. When he and Ellie had been lovers, their time together had been too short. Hell, they’d probably only had sex a half-dozen times that summer. Privacy had conspired against them, then fate. One night wouldn’t begin to make up for all the years of regret.

He caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. Even in the diffused light, her expression was easy to read. The entire topic distressed her, the incident with Bridgette too recent.

He pushed ahead, refusing to let her withdraw. “The bottom line is this: I accept your proposal with one caveat. I want a week. Seven days, not one. Deal?”

4
The man looked over the photographs he’d spread across the motel bed. He picked up his favorite, taken a mere eighteen hours ago. Ella-baby. He had trailed her from Manhattan to LaGuardia. And while waiting to take the same flight, he’d managed to digitally capture a few unguarded moments.

That’s when he’d nailed her allure, her essence. Where others saw blond hair, flashing green eyes, and a fab bod, he saw her spirit. Her inner magic. Chicks like her went straight to heaven when they died. It’s how angels were made.

Devils were a different story. His hands fisted. He’d been furious when the other man had shown up. And more than a little scared. Holy f*ck, DeLuca had been livid.

In the end, however, he had prevailed. He’d gotten away. Lived to fight another day. No harm, no foul…yet. But after he finished this job, he’d figure out a way to get back at DeLuca.

He glanced at the clock. If things had gone as planned, he’d still be there with her. As planned meant it would have been over by dawn. Now that he’d showered, calmed down, he wasn’t so sure he wanted it to end that quickly.

He’d touched her tonight, felt her heart beat beneath his gloved hand. Her reaction, her fear, had been better than he’d imagined. And he’d get to do it all again. Sweet.

Yeah, the police would be brought in, but he wasn’t worried. They hadn’t caught him the last three times. He was good at what he did, getting rid of nuisance ex-wives and mistresses. Worth every cent of his fee, too. Though he might have considered doing Ellie for free. His previous marks had all been older, miserable women. He hadn’t wanted to do to them the things he planned to do to Ellie.