No Escape From War (Trouble for Hire #1) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,44
He was a respected producer. He had a wall full of awards. Hell, he’d been recognized by the mayor last year because of the charitable shit he’d done.
Yanking at his tie, Dylan headed for the kitchen. He was almost there when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He hauled it out and peered down at the screen.
When he saw the text sender’s name, his jaw clenched. His finger slid across the surface of the phone. Gary had still been tailing War. But now that Rose wasn’t hiding any longer, that job would end. It would—
Dylan frowned.
Gary had sent him new photos. He clicked on them. Made them bigger. Dylan swallowed and glared as the shots appeared.
War. Kissing Rose. Pressing her up against that stupid old car of his.
War. Putting his hands all over Rose. Acting like he fucking owned her or something.
Why the hell had she fallen for that asshole? Why was she letting him touch her again?
Why couldn’t she learn from her mistakes?
The phone vibrated again as a text appeared. Do you want me to continue surveillance?
He fired off a quick response. “Send me a bill. Your job is done.” Gary had handled several jobs for him in the past. The PI had always been discreet, and he delivered exactly as promised. He could get dirt on anyone. A useful trait in the media world.
Dylan hesitated. Actually…maybe Gary could still be useful. Before, Dylan’s goal had been to get War angry enough to turn from Rose. But maybe Rose should be the one turning away. Maybe she didn’t know her boyfriend as well as she thought. Perhaps no one did. “Change of focus,” he texted. “Dig up everything you can on Warren Channing. I want every single skeleton he has.”
Three little dots appeared on his screen. Dylan waited…
The response: Done.
Chapter Twelve
Her phone was ringing. Rose cracked open one eye as the peal of sound penetrated the deep layers of sleep. She threw out her hand—aiming generally for the direction of the noise—but instead of hitting her nightstand, she hit a warm, hard body.
War.
Her second eye opened. She found him staring back at her.
“Morning,” he told her in his deep, growly, I-just-woke-up voice. A voice that had her wanting to squirm because it was pure sex appeal.
The phone rang again.
“I need to get that.” She leaned over him, kind of crawled on top of him, and scooped up the phone. It had been the standard ringtone, so she didn’t realize who the caller was until she glanced down and—“Dylan.”
Beneath her—because she was almost straddling him at this point—War stiffened. “What the hell does he want?”
Since she hadn’t taken the call yet, Rose had no clue. Her breath huffed out and her finger tapped the screen. “Dylan?” She made sure to put the call on speaker so War could hear, too.
“We need you. Get to the station, now.”
What? That was the way he greeted her after everything that had happened? “I’m on leave. Find someone else.”
“Your leave is up. Jeremy just broke his leg water skiing, so he can’t go on air. The cops found a female homicide victim on the beach this morning, and we need a reporter on site. You are in charge of the crime beat.”
A female victim? “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. How about you do your job and find out? Get to the station. I’ll have a crew waiting for you—”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” His voice rose. “Is your job not worth—”
“I’m at my condo. It makes no sense for me to drive to the station, then come back to the beach. Give me the location. I’ll go straight to the beach and meet the crew there.”
She heard him swiftly inhale. He didn’t like her plan. Too bad.
“Fine,” he snapped. “But when you get the segment filmed, you come back here. We need you to stand in for the anchor tonight.”
Seriously? “Am I standing in for everyone?”
“Thought you wanted a shot like this. Thought you’d be happy.”
War stared up at her.
Her heart drummed and echoed in her ears. “Finding out that you’ve been keeping creepy pictures of me hardly makes me happy. If this anchor slot is just some bribe you’re doing so I won’t report you to the station manager, you need to think again.”
“Rose—”
“I’ll come to the station, I’ll do my job, but you’re going to be answering plenty of questions for me. And for the station manager.”
“You were wanted in connection with a murder investigation. You dropped off the radar! Do you really think