Caped and Dangerous - Isabel Jordan Page 0,27

patient rooms and therapy center. All new furnishings, the best equipment, everything. They’re even adding a library.”

Greer rubbed her temples. “Jesus, how much is the monthly rate going to go up?”

“That’s just it! It’s not going to go up at all. The new owner is paying for the upgrades out of pocket. No monthly fee increases. In fact, he’s looking into ways to decrease the monthly fees for the residents’ families.”

Greer hated to be a stick in the mud, but when something seemed too good to be true… “Who’s the new owner?”

Nat pursed her lips, thinking. “You know I’m terrible with names. It was a big corporation. The man in charge said he was looking to diversify his holdings and that he had a special interest in Alzheimer’s research. He spoke very passionately about it.”

There was something about this that just wasn’t right. Something that was throwing up red flags in Greer’s mind.

“You talked to him one-on-one? The new owner?” Greer asked.

“Oh, yes. We had a nice talk. He listened more to my recommendations in an hour than Director Thomas did in twenty years.” She snorted. “Putz. I always hated that horrid little toad.”

More red flags. Time to have Rio start digging into this. “What did the guy look like? Would you recognize him from a photo?”

Nat nodded, then sighed dreamily. “There’s no forgetting that face.”

Now it wasn’t just red flags being thrown in Greer’s mind. Something like the Star Trek red alert, battle stations alarm was going off in her head.

Who in this state—hell, in this country—was rich enough, powerful enough, and motivated enough to pull off something like this? Maybe five people. And of those five, who was good-looking enough to make Nat—Nat, of all people—blush like she was now?

“Was he a tall guy?” Greer asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer. “Irish accent? Looks like an underwear model?”

Nat’s eyes widened. “You know this man?”

“Oh, I know him, all right.”

Greer thanked Nat for the information and got out of there with a quickness. Time to go have a chat with the new owner of Rolling Hills Retirement Village.

Killian Morgan had some serious explaining to do.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AS SOON AS Greer landed on his patio and walked into his penthouse, Killian knew he was in trouble. He’d pissed her off. That much was obvious.

Figuring out which thing he’d done that had pissed her off was a little more complicated. Sadly, it could’ve been any of about ten things he’d done recently that he knew she wouldn’t approve of.

So, he kept his mouth shut and leaned casually against the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting, and doing his best to project an air of innocence.

She stalked up to him, not stopping until she had to crane her neck back to glare up at him.

She was in uniform again, with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, not a drop of makeup on her gorgeous face. Her color was high, giving him a perfect view of the ginger freckles he loved so much.

“Don’t you dare fucking smile at me,” she growled.

He did his best to wipe the smile off his face, but he was pretty sure he failed. He couldn’t help it. She was stunning all the time. But when she was angry?

Hot. As. Hell.

“Make any interesting new investments lately?” she asked.

Oh. So that’s what she was pissed about. Thank God. It could’ve been way worse. “I make interesting investments all the time,” he said mildly.

Greer cocked her head to the side, still glaring at him. “Is that how we’re going to play this? You’re going to pretend you didn’t dig into my personal life without my permission and research my mother?”

Killian fought hard not to drop his gaze to her chest, which was only about one deep breath away from grazing his own. “No. I’m not going to pretend that.”

“Why? Why’d you do it?”

Jesus, was there any way to explain this that didn’t make him sound like a crazy stalker? Killian ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Look, I know money can’t fix everything, but it can do a lot, and I have a fuck-ton of it. I knew you’d never ask me for any of it. So I thought, what the fuck, right? I’ll check out the nursing home and see if there’s anything I can do to help you and your mom out on the down low.”

“The down low?” She sputtered. “Buying a nursing home is you on the down low?”

“Well, I didn’t plan to buy the