decent shot of the license plate. If there was any connection between the driver and Ronald Pettibone, he’d find out—and he’d make Pettibone pay.
“Would you like me to wash your hair?” he asked.
Ellie nodded.
Liam levered to his feet, grabbed the mugful of tea and dumped it in the sink. When he returned to the tub, he reached down and scooped up some water, then carefully poured it over her head. Ellie handed him a bottle of shampoo and, after her hair was drenched, he squeezed a small bit into his hand and massaged it into her hair.
He’d never really indulged in such tasks with a woman. There was an undeniable intimacy found in waiting on her, in the simple act of helping her bathe. In a way, it all seemed more intimate than what they’d shared earlier. That had been about desire and need, but this was about comfort and affection.
The phone rang and Ellie opened her eyes. “Do you want me to get that?” Liam asked.
“No,” she said. “Let the machine pick it up.”
“All right,” Liam murmured. He moved his fingers down to her nape and gently scrubbed. After four rings the answering machine picked up and they listened as her outgoing message echoed through the empty apartment. Then the beep sounded and a male voice replaced hers.
“Hi, Eleanor. It’s Ronald. Listen, I was just calling to apologize about the other day. You just took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to feel…well, what I wanted to say was that I really need to see you again. Soon. We have to talk. I’ve got some contacts at a few banks here in town and…well, we’ll discuss that when we see each other. I’m at the Bostonian. Room 215. Call me.” The answering machine beeped again at the end of the message.
Liam’s fingers slowly dropped to her shoulders. Ronald Pettibone? Damn it, when had she seen Ronald Pettibone? He’d been with her almost constantly over the last ten days. And when he hadn’t been with her, either he or Sean had been watching her.
“I guess that wasn’t about a job,” Ellie said with a light laugh. “How embarrassing to have one man call me when I’m in the tub with another.”
For a while he’d almost forgotten what had brought him and Ellie together in the first place. And now, sitting in her bathroom, her naked in the tub, he realized what a colossal mess he’d made of it all. Sean had warned him and he’d refused to listen, certain that he had everything under control. But he should have realized from the very moment he’d first seen Ellie that he was in trouble. If not then, their first kiss should have been a big clue. He should never have let it get this far.
He cleared his throat and hoped that his voice would sound indifferent. “Who is Ronald?” Liam already knew the answer to that question, but it was a logical one to ask considering the circumstances.
“You remember. I told you about him. He’s a co-worker from New York,” Ellie explained. “Well, more than a co-worker. Not anymore but—” She twisted around until she could look into his eyes. “We used to be…an item.”
“Is that another way of saying you used to be lovers?”
“Yes. But nobody knew. We kept it a secret. Ronald was afraid that everyone at the bank would find out and it would hurt our careers. Then he dumped me and I figured that he never really cared for me anyway.”
“And now he’s in town?”
“Yeah. In fact, you saw him that day outside the coffee shop. He was talking to me when you came out, remember?”
Liam slowly let the breath seep from his lungs. God, how could he have been so stupid? Ellie hadn’t looked a thing like her picture, why had he expected Ronald Pettibone to resemble his photo? Maybe it was all part of the plan, Liam mused. A new life, a new look. But Ellie was living her life out in the open. She was looking for a new job and making new friends and in no way trying to hide her identity. Not the behavior of someone just one step in front of the law.
But could the same be said for Ronald Pettibone? Not for one instant did Liam believe his appearance in Boston was coincidental. He’d come to her for a reason and either it was the money they’d both stolen or it was Ellie herself. Whichever it turned out to be,