When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(38)
He didn’t want either young man to track her down, because that’s precisely what he planned to do.
* * *
Elise warily left her room at the Cedar Home Extended Stay Hotel and locked her door behind her before she hurried silently down the long, dim hallway. Her ears were acutely pitched for the sound of the door of Room 16 opening, but the nuisance that was Baden Johnson remained absent.
She didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she hit the landing on the staircase. The elevator in the rundown hotel had been broken ever since she’d moved in. She flew out the door of the stairwell into the dark night.
Unfortunately, her father and mother had high hopes about her returning to Paris and conveniently marrying Erik Cebir, Swiss heir to the Cebir pharmaceutical fortune. When she’d continually refused to go along with their plans, her father had cut off all her credit cards. Her first and only paycheck from Fusion wouldn’t come until next Tuesday, so she was barely scraping by. Consequently, when she hadn’t had sufficient cash to pay the cab, she’d been screwed. The surly driver had been impervious to her charm, insisting she must go upstairs and get the money or he’d put in a call to the police.
“Here,” she said, shoving her hand through the window of the driver’s side.
“What’s this crap?”
Irritation bubbled up in her. “It’s a watch,” she said fiercely. “It’ll cover the cost of the cab ride. About a hundred times over,” she added under her breath. It’d been one of the least valuable things she’d had in her jewelry box, given to her by her least favorite aunt who was renowned for regifting.
The cab driver first gave her then the shabby hotel a skeptical glance and handed back the watch. “No thanks. I’ll take the twelve bucks, plus tip.”
“That’s a Cartier, you idiot!”
“Right. Prince Charles himself has probably got one, but I ain’t him. I want my money.”
“But you don’t understand! You could take that to any pawnbroker and—”
“What’s going on here?” a deep voice interrupted. She swallowed convulsively when she recognized the steel-gray hair and the large, hulking form coalesce from the shadows. Shit. Baden Johnson had clearly once been a very strong man, but he was going to seed in middle age. That didn’t mean he didn’t carry the vestiges of massive, brute power, however.
“You her friend?” the cabdriver called through the opened window single-mindedly. “Your girlie owes me twelve bucks plus tip.”
Elise backed away several steps as Baden approached. “What’s this?” Baden asked, reaching for the watch.
She snatched her hand back, but too late. The platinum watch flashed between Baden’s thick fingers. He held it up, examining it in the dim light. His gaze narrowed on her speculatively. She glanced up and down the dark street, but not another soul was in sight.
“It’s . . . it’s nothing, just a cheap knockoff. I’ll just . . . I’ll run back inside and get the cash,” she prevaricated, longing for the relative safety of her locked room.
“Don’t worry about it,” Baden said, reaching into his pocket. He started to count off some crumpled, greasy-looking bills. “I’ll get your fare. I’m interested in seeing more of these cheap knockoffs.”
“No, please—”
“Hey now,” he said, his teeth gleaming in the dim light, reminding her of dirty fangs. She’d discovered Baden was fond of what they called in the States chew. “I know you’re good for it. You’ll find a way to pay me back, right? I can think of a dozen or two things right off the top of my head,” he said, his downward gaze over her body feeling like he’d smeared greasy slime on her skin.
Her thoughts started to come a mile a minute.
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Baden,” she said. When he looked away, she turned and ran.
She couldn’t think of what else to do. At least Baden was in the middle of finding the bills for payment. It would give her a few seconds to try to race to her room and lock herself in—better than waiting until he was unoccupied, the cabdriver had gone, and they were alone on the dark, deserted street together.
“Hey . . . hold up you little—”
But Elise didn’t pause. She reached the door to the stairwell, lunging to open it. Before she ducked into the musty interior, she glanced over her shoulder and yelped in alarm.
Big Baden was stalking rapidly toward her, just twenty feet away. He looked furious, not to mention determined.
She hurled herself up the stairs, cursing the fact that she hadn’t yet removed her strappy high-heeled sandals. Through the pounding of her heart in her eardrums, she heard the metal door slam shut and the sound of Baden’s heavy boots hitting the first stairs.
“Slow down, French girl. I’m thinking you’re keeping some secrets from your neighbors. That’s not too friendly, is it? Time you learned how to be a little nicer, seeing as you’re a stranger in this country,” he crooned, his quiet voice sending a shiver through her as it echoed in the empty, dark stairwell. Why had she ever exchanged a single word with him? She should have just avoided him, like any sane woman, instead of trying to charm away the threat of him. She heard his banging boots several steps behind her when she hit the landing and her heart jumped into her throat.