Bloody Love (Lilah Love 6) - Page 27

“Can you afford to leave?”

“I’ll handle it. We agree?”

I hesitate, but say, “Yes. You go. No one else.”

He nods and heads for the door.

The waitress appears beside me and I handle the bill before pulling on my coat, grabbing my bag, and motioning Jay toward the exit. I’m aware that Alexandra has left the diner. I knew the minute she left, fifteen minutes ago.

I meet Jay at the door. “I have to go to the city,” I say. “Tonight.”

“Oh fuck. You can’t tell Kane you have to get in a chopper tonight, Lilah.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I say, and I leave it at that. I don’t need to say more. Jay’s right. It’s too soon. He’s not wrong.

We step outside into a chilly early evening and I remember the note I didn’t want to read in front of Andrew. I pause just right of the door, grab it from my bag and open it. It reads:

One.

Two.

Three.

The cat is in the tree.

Catch him while you can.

What the flipping insanity is this? The cat is in the tree? I am so through with Junior. Hoping Junior is watching, I walk to the bulletin board just outside the diner entrance and pin the note there. And I hope Junior is not only watching, but she has her panties in a wad. I pause a moment, with my reference to “she” and I wonder if Alexandra is Junior. Surely she wouldn’t be stupid enough to be this obvious. Most likely Junior just wants it to seem as if he or she is Alexandra. Either way, I don’t care. This is a game and I’ve played it longer than I do most games without killing someone.

I leave the note behind and I hope it pisses off Junior.

Jay and I load up in the BMW and head toward the house to see Kane.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I find Kane in his home office on the upper level of the house just to the right of our bedroom. He’s standing at a window overlooking the ocean, his back to me, his cellphone at his ear as he talks about oil prices and some rig issue in Texas. He’s dressed in a navy-blue suit, sans the jacket, which tells me he’s been, or plans to go, to the office.

He turns toward his desk and when his eyes find me, they warm. They don’t warm for anyone else. People fear him, even if they’re drawn to him. They’re intimidated by the Kane Mendez. They’re unsure of themselves with him, but I never was. I never will be. I’m on the most stable ground on planet Earth when I’m with this man. And he’s not right now.

I cross the room and lean on the desk.

He ends the call and stares at me with those dark, intelligent eyes of his that seem as if they can read my every thought. “How’s it going?” I ask.

He walks to this side of his solid black desk and leans on it. “I’m not crying in my whiskey, that’s for damn sure,” he says, obviously reading my concern. “It’s me, beautiful. I’m taking care of business in every definable way.”

In other words, he’s dealing with the crash, and who might be responsible, while juggling his empire. How very Kane, indeed. I want to ask him if there are developments I need to know about, but then he’ll ask me the same. And I’m not quite ready to tell him about the chopper ride.

I move to the desk and lean on the edge beside him. He reaches for his glass of whiskey, sips, and offers me a drink. I accept. I’m going to be flying, not driving, and I might need to be drunk for this particular flight.

For a moment, we’re silent, and it’s a comfortable silence. I like that about Kane. He’s a man of only important words. I offer him the glass back. He sets it on the table, and catches my arm, easing me around in front of him. I don’t resist, but I remember a time when I both craved his touch and forbid myself that right. I thought he was trouble, too dark for someone like me, someone fighting her own dark side. But now I know that the only way I survive in this world is by embracing who I am. And no one knows how to do that, while still controlling their dark side, more than Kane. We are two of a kind. And that’s why we work.

“What aren’t you saying, Lilah?” he asks.

He reads me like no one else, but then, I no longer have my guard up with Kane.

My cellphone rings. “There’s something happening,” I say, already reaching into my field bag that’s still at my hip, and grab my phone, glancing at the unknown caller. “I have to take this and then I’ll explain.” I sit down in the chair in front of Kane and answer, “Special Agent Lilah Love.”

Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Lilah Love Mystery
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