the shelter doesn’t have the staff. They would need round-the-clock bodyguards.”
“That’s something I can arrange.”
He nodded. “That’s a start.” He paused. “What are you hoping for?”
“Bring down Dylan Fox. He’s a dirty grub.”
“To make room for the next dirty grub to rise, you mean?”
I stared him in the eyes. “It’s personal.”
He studied me. “Okay.” He removed a scribbled note from his pocket. “Here’s all you need to know. Her name’s Tatiana, and there’s the shelter’s address. You can liaise directly with them. They’ll introduce you. Set up a couple of heavies to protect her until the hearing, and hope for the best.”
“You don’t sound too optimistic?”
“I’ve seen this shit before. It will take a gutsy—or maybe I should say foolish—person to attempt to break these rings. I’ve seen journalists fall. These brutes corrupt juries. If it were me, I would try to find another Achilles heel. You may blow fifty thousand, or even worse, it could be you that they come after. Make sure your cupboards are clean.”
I left a hundred-pound note for the tab.
His face brightened. “Thanks. If there’s anything else…”
“I’ll let you know,” I said.
My tread was slow and heavy as I mulled over the detective’s chilling advice. My cupboards were far from clean.
20
* * *
PENELOPE
BLAKE TOUCHED MY HAND under the table. Despite that heated session behind the tree, I sensed he wasn’t into public displays of affection. Bubbling under the surface of that cool and restrained expression, I sensed a deep and complex man riddled with contradictions. I knew he was like that not from what he said, given he kept that to a minimum, but by his body language and his eyes, which softened when he stared at me and smoldered when he touched me but then would go remote when he thought I wasn’t looking.
“Can I get you another drink?” he asked.
It was the same intimate darkly lit bar as before. We even sat at the same table, tucked away in a quiet corner by a window. Blake needed to sit by a particular window. When I asked why, he shrugged it off as though it were a natural human inclination.
He’d offered to have Patrick pick me up. Being at the estate, I suggested we meet instead. A tense pause followed. I wasn’t ready to reveal that part of my life to him. I’d become paranoid that when Blake discovered my background, he’d run away from me.
As his hand settled on my knee, my body tingled.
“What would you like to eat?” he asked.
You.
I bit my lip. “I really don’t mind. I’m not that hungry.”
“Mayfair, then?”
Although anticipation gushed through me, I nodded as coolly as possible.
I followed him to the shiny Bentley parked on the curb, where Patrick stood in wait.
“Hey, Patrick.” I smiled.
He returned a smile. “Nice to see you, Penelope.”
This time, I waited for him to open the door and indulged in the novelty of being treated like royalty.
Once we were seated in the car, Blake moved up close and, taking me into his arms, crushed me with affection. His warm lips pecked at my neck. My heart pounded, and just one breath of his scent brought back memories of him inside of me.
We pulled apart and stared into each other’s eyes. His eyes had darkened almost to a shade of black. He’d worn that same look when entering me—fragile and lost to the sensation, just like me.
“Have you had anything to eat? I could get Maria to prepare one of her delicious pasta dishes.”
“Although that sounds nice, I’m not that hungry at the moment.”
He turned to look at me and caressed my arm. “I’m hungry.”
I was about to say I didn’t mind eating, but something told me he meant something else.
“For you,” he added. “I’ve thought of nothing else. Two nights is too long to wait.” He paused and looked at me. “About the other morning…”
I took a deep breath. “I didn’t understand it, to be honest. You virtually pushed me out the door.”
He wore an apologetic smile. “I’m new to this.”
“And so am I.” I frowned. “You’ve never had a woman in your life?”
“I’ve been with women, of course. But none have stayed over.”
A hot thirty-year-old man not having a girlfriend ever? How can that be? The alarm bells should have sounded. Instead, as the heat of his soft palm on my thigh teased, making my legs clamp, it felt like I’d won a prize. At least there wouldn’t be a bevy of exes banging down his door.
“But that’s kind of peculiar.”
He