“Not that I’m aware of. There was no sign of a bird in the apartment when we did a sweep. Even if there was, it’s not your business.”
“But—”
“Since,” he cut me off sharply. “You’re planning to give this mess a wide berth from now on, like you promised. Remember?”
“Yes, yes. Wide berth.”
I got the sense he didn’t believe me. Mainly because, as soon as I spoke, his grip tightened on my hands, which were still locked over my head. His frame pressed me more deeply against the bed, his weight stealing my breath as his brows furrowed in a look of raw frustration. “Do I need to tattoo this message on your ass for you to comprehend it?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I informed him, my tone uppity. “I have a strictno-needles-near-my-flesh-unless-I’m-at-the-doctorpolicy.”
“Uh huh.”
When he didn’t shift off me, I forced my tone to be ever-so-slightly less uppity. “Look, Graham, you’ve made your point. I said I’d stay away from Zelda. Now, get off me.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeated, glaring at me.
Of all the insane intimidation tactics…
With a low grunt, I bucked against him, trying to escape. He merely dropped more of his weight onto me, pressed me harder into the mattress until my struggles were absorbed by the plush pillow-top. I stopped thrashing, realizing it was getting me precisely nowhere. This was around the same time I realized Graham’s body had settled firmly against mine, bringing us flush together, my curves tight against his rock-hard chest.
Since I was wearing only my skimpy silk shorts and tank top, my bare legs brushed the denim of his jeans and I fought off a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold temperature of my bedroom.
“Graham…”
The grip on my hands tightened almost to the point of pain as his name tumbled from my lips. “What, Gwen?”
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“For lying to you about not knowing where Zelda was. For getting involved when you told me not to.” I chewed nervously on my bottom lip as I stared up into his furious face. “I just wanted to talk to her. In my defense, I didn’t know the situation was going to devolve into a shootout.”
“In my line of work, a shootout is never off the table,” he gritted out, still clearly pissed. “That’s why I asked you to let me handle it.”
“I was worried you were going to hand her over to Mickey O'Banion — who is so not a nice guy, by the way, he totally tried to bully me the other day — without even giving her a chance to explain herself! And she had some alternate theories about why the sons might be so interested in their mother’s money…” I trailed off when I felt his entire body stiffen with sudden tension.
“The other day,” he echoed harshly, stormy expression clouding over into a mask of pure rage. “What the fuck do you mean,the other day?”
“Um...”
“Gwen, so help me God—”
“He came by the shop a few days ago,” I forced myself to say, pushing the words out in a rush before I lost my nerve. “He sort of, well, cornered me by the dumpsters and tried to get me to tell him where Zelda was. And, when I refused, he was… unhappy.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he thundered.
“No, I am not fucking kidding you.”
“And you chose not tell me about this,why?”
“Maybe because you have a tendency to overreact? Such as, I don’t know, just off the top of my head… breaking into my home in the middle of the night?” I glared up at him, my pulse roaring between my ears. “Besides, it happened well before I knew he’d hired you. There was no need to tell you.”
“No need…Christ.”