The One Who Got Away (Wilde Ways #12) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,16
hell is happening?”
She glared up at him. She was angry. Scared. Had someone just tried to kill Antony? Or had the van been coming up because the intent had been to kidnap him?
“Ella,” he pushed as his eyes glittered. “What is happening?”
“You tell me.”
He blinked. Glanced down the road. The van was long gone.
“What is happening, Antony?” Ella demanded. “Who’s after you?”
A furrow appeared between his brows. “I have no clue.”
Funny. He sounded as if he meant those words. She just didn’t know if she should believe him or not. That was the problem when you found out someone was a world-class liar. It was hard to know when the person was actually telling the truth.
“We should probably get off the street,” he murmured.
“Someone just tried to either stab you or kidnap you,” she shot right back. “We should be calling the cops.”
His stare held hers. “Stab me? There was a knife?”
She pushed him toward the Wilde building. The man shouldn’t just be standing in the open. He’d had the point right about not being out in the street. “Yes, there was a knife. I saw the light glint off it.”
He smiled.
The insane man smiled after she told him that some punk with a knife had tried to come at him. “That is not happy news. You are not supposed to grin.”
“You saved my life.”
“Someone had to do it,” she muttered back even as she yanked out her phone and sent a fast text to Eric. Need help out front ASAP. Assailant came at Antony.
When she looked up, his smile had stretched even more.
“What are you possibly smiling about?” Ella wanted to know. “Did you hit your head when I shoved you? I hope not. We both know your brain is your big money maker.”
“I knew you were the best person for the job.”
Uh, oh…
“You just saved my life, Ella. I take that to mean…you’re now officially on the case? You’ll be my bodyguard?” His voice was hopeful. Happy.
Happy…after an attempted attack.
Shit.
She glanced back down the street. “Yes,” she hissed. “I’m on the case.”
Chapter Five
He had no clue who the jerk on the street had been. Antony didn’t know if the man had been some low-level criminal who’d thought he’d make a quick score by mugging a stranger or if he’d been someone much more dangerous. Someone who actually was aware of the sort of work that Antony did on the side.
Whoever the man had been, his attack had come at the perfect time. If there actually was a perfect time for an attack. Ella had been determined to reject Antony’s job offer, but now…
Now she was in his new home just outside of Atlanta. A home that he’d closed on yesterday.
“Stop looking at me that way.” She paced in front of him.
Antony kept sprawling on the couch. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture in the place. Lots of empty spaces, but at least he had a couch. And a bed. He had a very large bed installed in his upstairs bedroom. He’d also taken the liberty of preparing a guest room, though he would much prefer to have Ella in his room.
“This is a temporary situation,” Ella added. “Don’t go getting all confident and smug on me.”
“The contract I signed with Wilde said you’d be my bodyguard for two weeks.”
She stopped pacing. Fired him a dirty look. God, he loved her dirty looks. “Two weeks is temporary, Antony.”
“Of course.” He thought two weeks was a starting point, but why argue? He had what he wanted.
Her.
In his house.
Close.
Sure, yes, he’d like her to be a whole lot closer, but they’d cross that bridge soon enough. He had plans. Lots and lots of plans in place for his Ella.
“You don’t look worried.” She took a step toward him. Cocked her head. Her hair trailed over her shoulder. “For someone who was nearly attacked in broad daylight, you seem remarkably cool and collected.”
He forced a shrug. “You saved me. What do I have to stress about?”
Suspicion slid over her lovely features. And she was lovely. He’d been struck by her elegant features from the first. A bow-shaped mouth, delicate jaw and nose, smooth skin, and those deep, golden eyes of hers…
“If someone is trying to kill you—or kidnap you—that is what you should be stressing about. A normal person would be flipping out right about now.”
“Are you trying to say I’m abnormal?” That would be a bad sign, yes? Before she could reply—and possibly give a response that he didn’t want