Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters #3)(26)

“Give me a couple days. I need more time,” I tell Pilar wearily, irritated with how she pushes. The woman is nonstop. Completely unsatisfied. I’d hate to be the poor sap tangled up with her.

It’s my own damn fault, though. I’m the one putting her off and failing at my own job. Why don’t I just do what I’m supposed to and get the hell out of here?

You don’t want to leave Lily, *. You like her. You’re insanely attracted to her.

True. I could be f*cking everything up, all for a girl. A beautiful, sexy-as-f*ck, sweet-as-hell girl.

“Three days tops,” she reaffirms. “Get that goddamn laptop and bring it back to me. I don’t care what you have to do to get it, just do it.” She ends the call before I can say another word.

Fucking woman irritates the shit out of me. I open up the browser on my phone and start a more extensive search on my client, Pilar Vasquez.

I did the requisite search when she first approached me, inquiring about my services. A quick name entry on Google told me everything I needed to know. Her age, what she looked like, where she worked. There were a few photos of her on Forrest Fowler’s arm, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Once I found out exactly what Pilar wanted me to do, I figured she was out for revenge against Lily because of Fowler family politics.

But Lily doesn’t work for Fleur. She never really has, minus a few summers as a teenager. The minute she graduated high school she did her own thing, unlike her younger sisters. Traveling around the world, partying, dating a variety of men, making the rounds on the tabloids and gossip blogs, looking like a hot mess most of the time. Yes, I did thorough research on my subject, but not enough on my client.

That’s where I failed. And I rarely fail.

Tell that to the guys who died on your watch.

I’d had my shit together. Joined the military right out of high school, eager to follow in my dad’s footsteps, to see combat, to fight this war and serve my country. I didn’t expect it to be so damn hard. To be so mentally and physically crushing. To lose my friends, men who worked with me, defended me, to friendly fire and to fight against the injustice of it all.

The moment I was given my evaluation results and they expressed worry over my mental state, I knew my career in the army was done for good.

Banishing the old memories that love to haunt me at the worst time, I focus on my Google results for one Pilar Vasquez. As one of the top employees at Fleur, she gets plenty of mentions, including a recent article in an online business magazine noting a promotion, accompanied by a photo of her standing beside Forrest Fowler in what looks like a boardroom.

There’s another photo of her at a social event, hanging on Fowler’s tuxedoed arm while wearing a body-hugging gold, glittery dress. I study it closely, noting the way she’s looking at him, how his arm is wrapped tightly around her waist.

They’re an item. A couple. And I’m a f*cking stupid, blind * not to have realized this before.

I scroll through more images, noticing there are quite a few older photos of her with a guy who looks a lot younger than her. Good-looking guy, angry expression on his face most of the time while she clings to him, looking like the cat that just licked up every last drop of the cream.

The name is familiar: Ryder McKay. I immediately enter him in the search box and hit the images tab. Up come dozens of recent photos of McKay in London with none other than Violet Fowler, including mentions of an engagement and close-up photos of a giant rock on Violet’s finger.

Interesting—and freaking strange.

What sort of twisted relationships make up the Fowler family? It appears that Pilar at one time was with McKay. But now McKay is with Violet Fowler and Pilar is with Forrest Fowler. Talk about odd.

And what does Lily Fowler have to do with any of this? Pilar mentioned in our initial meeting that Lily tried to damage her reputation. I can only imagine that Lily has information on my client and is using said information to blackmail her. Pilar won’t go into detail, which makes me believe that the information Lily has is pretty damaging.

I’d like to know exactly what that information is.

After a few more searches on other Fowlers—Violet and Rose, to be exact—I find out nothing else major and give up. Setting my phone on the tiny glass-top table right next to my chair, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, running my hands through my hair. What the f*ck should I do? I have my subject lying in bed, sleeping like the dead after I just thoroughly f*cked her, and I need to somehow, some way, search her room and get that damn laptop Pilar’s so insistent I take from her.

Your opportunity is now, *. Why not take advantage of it?

I sit up straight and crane my neck over my shoulder, studying the sleeping Lily once more. Her back is to me, her hair wild from the constant f*cking, the white sheet wrapped tight around her sexy naked body. I bet those sheets smell like her, are drenched in her. I should have her come to my room for the next round so she can rub her sexy scent all over my sheets. I probably wouldn’t have the maid change them out for days.

You’re a sick f*cker.

Yeah, I am. It’s like I’m f*cking addicted to her. The sounds she makes, the taste of her skin, her sweet little tongue, her even sweeter * … damn. Being inside her is heaven. Feeling her * clench and tremble and squeeze all around me. The gush of wetness that coated my cock when she came drove me out of my mind. I couldn’t hold back with her. She makes me crazy with wanting her.