Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(26)

His green eyes drilled into her, making her practically shrink in response. “Absolutely not. It’s not safe.” He rolled his eyes at Jeremy before he shoved back from the table and stalked away, muttering under his breath, “Go on a run . . . Unbelievable.”

After breakfast, her first order of business was to make sure she had clean clothes, since most of what she’d taken to Florida was dirty. The limited wardrobe she had with her was geared toward Florida’s warm weather, but she’d make do for the short time she was here. After running a load of the washables she’d brought with her through the safe house’s washer and dryer, she would be all set. The things that needed dry cleaning—like the suit she’d worn on the flight that was now probably ruined from dirt and grass stains—would have to wait.

As the washer did its thing, Claire stood at the balcony door in her room, looking down at the street in front of the house. Tomorrow morning was the next meeting with the prosecutor. What was Chris going to think when she didn’t show up? Probably that she didn’t care enough to be there.

But she did care . . . a lot. She might not be thrilled at the prospect of a career in law, but Chris was counting on her. She couldn’t let him down. Again.

Claire frowned as she turned away from the glass. Yesterday she’d been so thrown off balance by the kidnapping and protective-custody issue, she’d pushed aside all thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting. She’d avoided Grayson as much as she could since breakfast, but it was time to face the dragon.

Grayson had insisted that she couldn’t make any more phone calls, but she still had to get a message through. Hoping Jeremy was on duty, she headed downstairs.

To her dismay, she found Grayson sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away on his laptop. Sunlight filtered in through the sliding doors that led to the patio, bringing out reddish highlights in his dark hair. She approached silently, taking in his unguarded expression as he studied the screen between bursts of typing.

When he wasn’t being a jerk, Grayson was downright sexy, hunched over his laptop in a well-worn short-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. As always, he wore a shoulder holster, an ever-present reminder of the seriousness of her situation. His biceps flexed as he punched at the keys, drawing her gaze to his corded forearms resting on the table, covered with a dusting of dark hair. A half-finished cup of coffee sat next to the laptop, and he reached out to pick it up as she approached.

Flustered at the warmth rising to her face, she cleared her throat.

“There’s a project I’ve been working on at the law school,” she said as she walked over. “I need to call my professor and let her know I’ll miss an important meeting tomorrow.”

“Nope,” he said quickly, not bothering to look up from his typing.

“If you’re worried about calling from here, we can go somewhere else.”

“I said no.”

Undaunted, Claire continued. “I could send an email. Maybe from a Starbucks, using their Wi-Fi. I’d only need the connection for a couple of minutes. By the time—”

“Did you not hear me?” Grayson finally lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. That icy green glare was back. “The answer’s no. We’re not going anywhere.”

Claire’s temper rose. Why couldn’t he even attempt to be nice? Why did he have to be so difficult?

“I need to call or email my professor.” Proud of herself for sounding calm yet firm when all she wanted to do was yell at him, she pulled her shoulders back and stood her ground.

Grayson glared at her for several seconds before looking away. “Write down a message. I’ll see what I can do to get it through.” Then, apparently dismissing her, he returned his attention to his laptop, which annoyed her even more.

Her own laptop was upstairs in her room, pretty much useless without an internet connection. Last night, she’d booted it up, hoping one of the neighbors might have an unsecured connection she could piggyback on, but no such luck.

Dismayed, Claire drew in a breath, trying to stay calm. “You’ll see if you can get it through? But this is really important—”

“That’ll have to be good enough.” Frowning, he looked down and resumed typing.

“When will you send it?”

He looked up and smirked. “Not sure. But it’ll be my top priority, I can assure you.”

Wow. This arrogant man made her want to shriek with frustration.

“You’ve got a solution now,” he said. “So if you don’t mind . . .”

But she did mind. A lot.

Clenching her teeth to keep from shouting at him, Claire forced herself to walk away. Upstairs in her room, she tore a sheet of paper from her notebook and grabbed a pen from her purse.

How do I word this?

No matter what she said, it would sound like an excuse to Professor Moore. Resigned that she had no better option, Claire settled on the term family emergency and wrote out the note. Folding it, she wrote her professor’s name and where her office was located on the front, and then went back downstairs.

“Here. Thank you for doing this,” she forced herself to say as she handed the note to Grayson.

He flipped it open and raised an eyebrow once he’d finished reading her note. “Why all the worry? It sounds like you hardly ever make it to school, anyway.”

Claire’s blood went hot and she sucked in a furious breath. “You’ve got some nerve.”