Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy #1)(81)

If I threw myself at him, he probably wouldn’t turn me down. He would’ve made out with me in the Galleria. I was young and pretty, and he was an unattached man. Well, I assumed he was unattached. If he was attached, it probably wouldn’t stop him. There was an ugly thought.

Realistically, the only thing I could hope to get out of any relationship with him was a couple of nights of glorious sex.

God, it would almost be worth it.

No, no, it wouldn’t be. I knew myself well enough. I would get attached to him. It would be so hard not to—everything about him was exceptional. People like that just don’t come into your orbit that often. If I jumped into that deep water, I would drown. I didn’t want to drown. I couldn’t afford to drown. I had a family, a business . . .

The phone rang.

I jumped up.

It rang again. I grabbed it. “Yes?”

“Finally, Ms. Baylor,” Augustine’s clipped voice said.

Oh crap.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’ve reviewed the press coverage of recent events this morning. Perhaps I wasn’t clear at our last meeting. What part of ‘Apprehend Adam Pierce and deliver him to his House’ did you not understand?”

Oh you ass. “The part where I do this with no resources or assistance from MII.”

“House Pierce is unhappy. They are now financially liable for an expensive office building and are the target of several prospective lawsuits.”

“Perhaps they should’ve considered that possibility when they discovered Adam was a Prime. If they hadn’t raised a spoiled, immature egoist, they wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Ms. Baylor.”

Someone pounded on the front door. “One moment,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

I marched over to the door and checked the monitor. Mad Rogan.

I swung the door open.

Mad Rogan stood at my doorstep, holding a bouquet of carnations. The ones in the store had been frilly and delicate pink blossoms. These were huge, heavy blooms, crimson, glossy, so dark toward the base of their petals that they were almost black, with a border of bright scarlet at the edges. They looked dipped in blood. He might as well have brought me a fistful of rubies.

His eyes looked smug.

I looked at the flowers, looked at his face, and shut the door.

No, wait.

I opened the door, took the carnations from him, shut the door, and locked it. There. I’d had a near-death experience, and confiscating the carnations would make me feel better. I marched back into my office and pushed the button on the phone.

“I’m back.”

“You put me on hold.” His voice could’ve frozen the Gulf of Mexico solid.

I smelled the carnations. Oh wow. “Yes. Someone was at the door. It could’ve been Adam.”

I looked for a vase to put the flowers in. The only thing I had was a tall, decorative glass full of marbles because the office needed some knickknacks. I emptied the marbles into a drawer, opened a bottle of water I kept for clients, poured it into the vase, and set the carnations into it. Perfect.

“I don’t think you understand the severity of your situation,” Augustine said.

The warehouse shuddered. The entire structure vibrated for a second and stopped.

“In the last forty-eight hours, my house was the target of an arson. Then a car exploded in front of our door.”

The warehouse vibrated again. Mad Rogan was shaking my house. Damn it.

“I’ve been almost strangled, almost crushed, and almost buried alive. I understand the severity of my situation.”

Shake. Shake.

“Adam publicly embarrassed his House. This matter now involves not just you . . .”

Shake.

“. . . but the reputation of the entire firm and . . .”

“I’m going to have to put you on hold for just a second.”

“Ms. Bay—”

I marched to the door and opened it. Mad Rogan smiled at me. I jerked my hand toward my office. He walked in. I locked the door behind him. Mad Rogan stepped into my office and landed in a chair. Instantly my office shrank. There had been space before, and now there was Rogan.

I pushed the button again. “I’m back.”

“My patience is at an end,” Augustine said with diamond-sharp precision. “I have to report to House Pierce, and my report, apparently, will say that you’ve made no progress. You’re making MII look incompetent.”

I’m shaking in my slippers. “Why don’t you tell them the truth: you assigned this case to me because you expect me to fail. When I do, you will take my business and write it off.”

“I’m trying to give you a chance to keep your business,” Augustine said.

“She’ll have to call you back,” Mad Rogan said.

“What?” Augustine asked.

“I said, she’ll have to call you back, Pancakes. She’s busy right now.” He pushed the disconnect button.

He didn’t just hang up on Augustine. Yes, yes, he did.

“Pancakes?” I asked.

“When he was trying to enter the Arcana Club at Harvard, one of the initiation trials was eating the most food. That year, it was pancakes. He won and got admitted, but it took six months before he could walk by pancakes without getting sick.” Rogan smiled. “He’d smell them and run out of the room.”