Exposure - Kelly Moran Page 0,70

wrong, Miss Crowne?"

She couldn't seem to move. To breathe. A vise squeezed her chest, cutting off air. Her fingers fisted the phone, trembling violently.

Noah took the cell from her grip and passed it to Max, pulling her to his chest. She tried to absorb his warmth, but she was so cold. Shaking so hard.

Max stiffened. "Sir." He handed Noah the cell and pulled his out. Within moments, he was pacing in the foyer, barking orders into the phone.

Noah thumbed through the message, jaw clenched, eyes glacial. "Son of a bitch." He tossed her cell on the counter and pulled her to him again. One hand came up to cup her head. "He won't get to you. He won't touch you. Swear to God, he won't, baby."

She nodded, because she figured that was the right thing to do. But Noah was wrong. They got her number. It would only be a matter of time before they got her. Right?

Max rounded the corner. "McCannon's coming to pick up the cell. Hintz is getting her a new one, with a new number. We've got a man at the gallery at all times and one downstairs. I notified the team on Miss Aubrey."

But instead of the news calming Noah, his arms banded tighter. "She doesn't leave your sight for two seconds." He sucked in a harsh breath and swayed on his feet.

"Understood."

"Not two seconds…"

"Shh," she cooed. Her stomach rolled with nausea and dread. "Let's get you back in bed. I'm safe right here."

For now.

Chapter Seventeen

Noah groaned and rolled over in bed, assessing if anything new hurt before opening his eyes. Alas, his bones were no longer liquefying from fever and nothing seemed to be aching. Thank Christ. He hadn't been sick like that in ages.

Hell, what day was it?

Instinctively, he reached out for Raven and found the bed empty, the sheets cool.

Vague memories of her force-feeding him chicken soup and aspirin sprang to mind. He remembered waking periodically to find her watching movies or reading next to him.

And the text. She got that damn threat…when?

Shit. He sat up too quickly and grabbed his head as the room spun. Stumbling to his feet, he made his way into the living room. "Raven?"

His housekeeper, Mildred, came out of the guest bathroom. "She's at work, Mr. Caldwell. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

He didn't like Raven being at the gallery. All those windows and… He closed his eyes and bit back a curse. He couldn't run her life. That gallery meant the world to her. If he had to live through the heart-pounding worry, he would. His team would keep her safe.

"May I clean your room, Mr. Caldwell?"

He blew out a breath. "That would be great."

"Would you like me to heat you something to eat first? Miss Crowne, she's a keeper. She made your mama's meatloaf."

Turning his head toward the kitchen, he stared as if he could see through the fridge door. "Did she?" he muttered, wondering if the dizziness was from emotion or lingering illness. The room seemed to vacuum of air, leaving a static hum of electricity in its wake. His mom used to make him meatloaf on his birthday because it was his favorite. That must've been what Raven had been cooking the other night.

"Mr. Caldwell?"

He flinched and cleared his throat. "No, thank you. I'm not very hungry at the moment."

Scratching his head, he headed to the kitchen to grab coffee and then he needed to shower off the remnants of fever. If he felt this gross, he could only imagine what he smelled or looked like. Raven left a letter on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, he poured a cup of coffee and read it over the rim of his cup.

My new cell number is programmed in your phone. There's leftovers in the fridge. I hope you're feeling better. xoxo

A silly, stupid grin split his face, and he didn't care who saw. A mundane, normal note, something a wife would leave for her husband. Happiness filled the empty spaces in his chest. He liked this. A lot. The dynamic between them was comfortable and familiar, yet he never tired of their love-making or conversation. They had, quite possibly, the perfect relationship. He just had to convince her of it. Or keep her sated long enough she didn't panic anymore.

Shoving off the counter, he retrieved his phone and shot off a text. Miss you. Is everything okay? You have at least two guards?

Sigh. Yes, master. I have Max as my shadow and some