Unravel Me

“Rachel Jameson is behind the pictures.”

“What? How do you know?”

The length of the pause was torture.

“I don’t want to get into that right now.”

My stomach rolled. I swallowed, trying to keep a serene tone. Sydney might be working but her ears had sharpened.

“I’d appreciate it if you could go into a little more detail.”

“Not over the phone while you’re at work. I debated whether or not to call but felt you should at least know that. Let me come by when you’re home and we can talk.”

“I can’t. I’m going straight to the airport from the station.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “Don’t go visit him.”

Any shred of the good mood I’d enjoyed all day disappeared. I glanced over the partition separating my cubicle from Sydney’s. She had headphones on to listen to a press conference. Turning my chair so it faced the back of the newsroom, I lowered my voice.

“I don’t know what little scheme you’ve cooked up with Rachel but it needs to stop. I should have known she was in on it when she showed up at dinner. You’re a piece of work, Nathan. How many times do I have to say it? This is over. We’re done. Don’t call me again.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear only to hear him yell for me to stop. I didn’t know what possessed me to listen.

“You’re not giving me any choice here, Lia. This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” He almost sounded apologetic. “Rachel was hired to follow you. She’s being paid to dig up dirt from your past and to keep an eye on you.”

Panic seized my heart. “Who hired her?”

“I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

“Who hired her?” I asked through clenched teeth.

Nathan sighed. “Money was wired to her from an account in the United Kingdom.”

My body went cold. All the lively sounds of the newsroom faded into oblivion. Immense pressure squeezed between my ears. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Lia.” He paused. “The authorizing signature was from Jason Holden.”

Dropping the phone into its cradle, I stood up abruptly and somehow walked to the restroom. One of the editors was washing her hands. She smiled as I brushed by and locked myself in a stall. The cool stainless steel door did nothing to soothe the heated skin on my forehead. For the most part, I was numb. So much had been thrown at me over the past few months and this new revelation didn’t deliver the massive blow I would have expected. Partly because I didn’t believe a word coming out Nathan’s mouth and partly because I refused to accept what I was told.

Alastair’s uncle isn’t financing a tabloid reporter to dig up dirt on me. That’s ridiculous.

I leaned against the door. My heart pounded so quickly that the inside of my ears hurt. We were barely three weeks removed from the biggest breakthrough in our relationship. He had opened up. He told me everything. Or did he?

No. I wouldn’t allow my insecurities to run rampant. This was all part of Nathan’s sick, twisted plan to win me back. Anger roiled my stomach. Straightening, I walked out of the stall, did a quick check in the mirror and went back to my desk. I zeroed in on nothing but the rundown and various scripts that needed tweaking. The broadcast flew by in a nanosecond. The next thing I knew, I was in the sanctuary of my car.

Gripping the steering wheel, I forced myself to breathe. I had a nine-hour flight to endure. The last thing I wanted was to spend it pissed off. I drove more aggressively than usual through the traffic. My only goal was to get to the airport lounge and try to unwind. Since I didn’t have any luggage, I zipped through security.

Once I was settled in the lounge with a glass of chardonnay I felt better. Not great, but better. Of course I flirted with the idea of getting back in my car and going home. If his uncle really was behind all this nonsense, visiting Alastair was the last thing I should do. It hurt my heart to even consider the possibility. All of this could be cleared up quickly if I asked him. Oh yeah. That will go over well. Hi, Alastair. Is your uncle stalking me? Oh, he is? Amazing.

The ridiculousness of that scenario made me laugh. A couple of passengers looked at me funnily. I smiled at them and sipped the wine. By my third glass, a nice fuzzy calm settled my nerves. The Holden family wasn’t investigating me. They had no reason to.

CHAPTER THREE (#ufb0853c8-e94e-5f7f-a081-bc8288abec8d)

A sizable group of family and friends were gathered near the arrivals entrance at Glasgow International Airport to welcome weary travelers home. I assumed Alastair’s driver, Paxton, would be picking me up. I scanned the crowd for a tall broad-shouldered man in his forties with salt and pepper hair. All I saw was a young guy in jeans, black t-shirt and backwards baseball cap with his back to me.

Shuffling past him and another group of people I wondered if I’d have to take a taxi. The thought annoyed me. Plus, I was cranky because my period decided to show up early thanks to the high altitude while flying.

“There you are.”

I turned toward the familiar rich voice and wound up staring directly at the guy in the ball cap. Seeing Alastair always hit all my hot buttons. The casual look didn’t mask his aura of powerful elegance at all.

“What the hell is on your head?”

Alastair laughed. “You don’t like it?” He turned the hat so it faced the proper direction. It made him look slightly younger than his thirty-one years. The letters HWM were embroidered on the front.

“It’s cute.”

“I was trying to be incognito.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. Don’t wear a Holden World Media hat if you don’t want to be recognized.” I grinned, wrapping my arms around him. Feeling his athletic body pressed to mine set everything straight. His energy really had become an extension of my own. When we shared the same space, I felt more alive, more aware. Just…more.

“I need to get you out of here and back to my house so I can welcome you properly,” he said, draping an arm across my shoulders.

He whisked me off to the parking lot and drove back to his neighborhood in Bearsden like a man on a mission. The tree-lined street was quiet and pretty. His light gray sandstone house sat on a pristine lot with a manicured lawn and vibrant patches of shrubbery and flowers.

Still so perfect on the outside, like him.

Most of the world only saw the stoic, successful young businessman who’d recently been named CEO of his grandfather’s media empire. He handled his business dealings with the cool precision of a surgeon. As much as I craved him when he was in CEO-mode, peeling away the hard exterior to expose the vulnerable man who only showed himself to me was a drug I would never quit.

I’d barely walked through the front door when he lunged, pinning me against the wall. At the mercy of his lips and tongue, I gasped, inhaling sharply. The rim of his hat knocked into my forehead. I ripped it off his head, throwing it across the hallway. He kissed me with such ferocity I thought he might bruise my lips. Circling each of my wrists with his hands, he held them firmly against the wall and pushed the weight of his six-foot frame into me. I liked it when he was untamed. His passion for me was a turn on.

“I missed you,” he said, biting my bottom lip.

“It’s only been four days.”

“Felt like an eternity.” Gripping my wrists tighter, he flexed his hips into mine. The friction sent a pleasurable wave through me.

“I want you. Now. Against this wall.” He kissed me again, this time slower and deeper. Each stroke of his tongue was matched with a tantalizing thrust of his hips. He knew exactly how to get me firing on all cylinders. Heat blossomed and spread through my body. Maybe he was right. Four days did feel like an eternity.

He grazed his teeth down the side of my neck, setting off a barrage of goose bumps. Releasing my wrists, he slid his hands down my body and started unbuttoning my jeans.

Shit.

“Alastair.”

He looked at me, his green eyes cloudy with lust. I brushed my thumb over his mouth.

“We have to stop.”