Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(34)

"I will send the car for you tomorrow. What is your address?"

She groped for the notepad by the phone. "Just a moment. It's on the stationery—"

She squeaked as Connor wrenched the phone out of her hand and blocked the receiver. "Don't give him the address," he said.

"Connor!" She lunged for the phone.

He held it out of her reach. "I will drive you to the resort tomorrow. Start to give him the address, and I rip the phone out of the wall." He wrapped his fingers around the cord and narrowed his eyes. "Nod, Erin. Show me that we understand each other."

She nodded. He handed the phone back. "Mr. Dobbs? I'd rather not put your driver to the trouble—"

"It's no trouble, Ms. Riggs."

"Really, it's fine. We'll drive ourselves to the resort."

"If you insist. When shall we expect you? Would eleven be acceptable? That way Mr. Mueller can rest."

"Eleven would be fine," she said. "And please give my apologies to Mr. Mueller. I truly didn't mean to—"

"Yes, yes, of course," Dobbs snapped. "Good evening."

Erin hung up the phone. She felt sick. Her stomach was clenched up tight with dismay. She pressed her shaking hand against it.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up, facing him down. "Connor," she said. "That was beyond paranoid. That was my most valuable client. Are you deliberately trying to sabotage me?"

He shrugged. "You were about to tell that guy the address. Which cancels out any advantage that coming here might have given you."

She stalked over to the window and slid it violently shut. "And what possessed you to make me say that you were my boyfriend?"

"It draws less attention than saying I'm your bodyguard. It explains why I stick to you like a burr and give dirty looks to any man who gets near you. It's the standard jealous boyfriend act. Most women have dumped at least one of those losers and then put out a restraining order on him."

"I never have," she snapped.

"Don't worry, Erin. I was an undercover cop for nine years. I'm a good actor. You're not required to f*ck me to make it convincing."

Her jaw dropped at his crude words. "Oh! Thank you, Connor! I am so comforted and reassured by that thoughtful remark!"

"I'm not aiming to reassure you," he retorted.

"That's pretty damn obvious!" she yelled back. "Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look? Mueller took an earlier flight from Paris specifically to meet with me tonight!"

"Oh, God, no." His face was a caricature of dismay. "The disappointed billionaire, eating his caviar all alone in the flickering candlelight Poor Claude. You're breaking my heart."

She lifted her chin. "That's it." She grabbed her suitcase. "I was wrong to humor you. You have no respect for my work, and you are completely out of your mind. I am leaving—oof!"

He spun her around. "You're not going anywhere."

"Yes, I am." She backed away, but he was gripping her shoulders. "I've had enough of your—Connor!" The world tipped and spun, and she landed on the bed, bouncing. The bouncing stopped when he landed on top of her, pinning her down with his big, hard body.

"No," he said calmly, as if lying on top of her were no big deal. "You're not going anywhere, Erin."

She forced herself to close her mouth. Her heart thudded so hard, she was sure he could feel it against his chest. She struggled beneath his solid weight, and the movement felt… sensual.

She went motionless. "Connor. Don't," she whispered.

He cupped her face in his big hands. "Novak should've been taken out back when we had a chance. Same with Georg. I should've finished him off, but I let the system take care of him. Which was stupid, because the system is rotten with holes. Jesse fell through one of them and died. I fell through another one. I'm alive out of sheer, dumb luck. Novak and Georg escaped out of another hole. Are you following me?"

She gave him a tiny nod.

"I'm not going to let you fall through one of those holes, Erin. I won't leave you alone. I won't disappear. Is that understood?"

She dragged in another tiny breath. "Can't breathe."

He lifted himself up onto his elbows, still pinning her. "Let me tell you something about Kurt Novak."

She shook her head. "Please, don't. I don't want to think about—"

"Tough shit. Look at me."

She winced, and slowly, reluctantly met his gaze.

"His dad is a big guy in the Eastern European mafiya. Hungarian. Probably one of the richest men in the world. He arranged to send his boy to college in the States. I imagine the plan was to groom him to go legit, to broaden the power base, but Kurt, well, he was kind of a funny guy. Weird things started to happen at the dorm. It culminated in a girl getting strangled to death during sex."

Erin squeezed her eyes shut. "Connor, I don't—"

"Lucky for our boy Kurt, this girl wasn't rich, or the daughter of a politician or a general. Her mom was a widowed research librarian who didn't have the resources to fight the big fight. Or maybe it wasn't luck, maybe Kurt thought it through, at the tender age of nineteen. The thing was hushed up and paid off, and Kurt gets whisked back to Europe, to recover from the unpleasantness on the ski slopes of the Alps."