A Matter of Trust: London Calling Book One (22 page)

He reached for her as she ducked into the revolving door, leaving her luggage behind for him to handle. Allowing the porter to take their bags, he looked at her through the glass. She tossed him a saucy wink then blew a kiss.

He walked through the door, chuckling. She thought she was safe with a glass panel between them.
 

As he joined her to follow the porter, he leaned down as if to whisper something in her ear. As he felt her relax against him, he snaked his tongue around her earlobe, biting the flesh softly.
 

He heard her quick intake of breath, before she met his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes.
 

They rode the elevator silently, each straining toward the other, but trying to maintain some modicum of dignity. The friendly employee wheeling the cart with their bags regaled them with the history of the luxe boutique hotel they were staying in as well as sightseeing tips for the local area.

Bennett shifted to run a tantalizing finger down the slim curve of her spine. She stiffened as he inched his finger around her waist to trace her ribs before lightly caressing the underside of her breast.
 

Devon clamped her arm down on his hand, trapping it so he couldn’t move any further. He splayed his fingers instead, squeezing the soft flesh before darkly chuckling at her stuttered attempts to carry on the conversation with the bellman.
 

He pulled free as they reached their floor. Tipping the gentleman heavily, he took possession of their bags and key card before the porter could open the room. As soon as the other man cleared the hallway, he pinned Devon against the door, plundering her mouth while hiking one hand to fumble the lock open.

She moaned, lost to everything until a door closed down the hallway.
 

A discreet cough had Bennett turning his head slightly while still resting his lips on Devon’s. A young man stared back, until something in Bennett’s gaze had him hurriedly turning away.
 

The door gave way and Bennett bundled her up to deposit her on the bed. He crawled over her as they both laughed at the other man’s expression.
 

She reached up to tug on his hair. “You lecher. I can’t imagine what that poor man thought!”

“He’s somewhere wishing he was me. Now shut up and kiss me.”

She did. The storm raged outside while they made love, fast then slowly, hard then tenderly, never tiring until the early hours. Late in the morning, they wandered out for a walk, only to hurry back again, fumbling in their eagerness to be together.
 

They never saw any of the sights the porter talked about.

Bennett cherished her, with his body and soul. Anyone with eyes could see how deeply he loved Devon.

But he never said the words.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
ENNETT
AND
D
EVON
stepped off the train, arms loosely wrapped around each other. Sorry to see the weekend end, Bennett clasped her to him. As his lips met hers, he tunneled a large hand into her chic chignon, scattering pins around them.

When someone delicately cleared their throat near them, he peered up with heavy eyes.

Natalie met his gaze, one finely arched blonde brow cocked.
 

“Natalie,” he said. “What are you doing here?” Even though she knew his schedule, she rarely appeared unexpectedly during his personal time. He brought Devon close to his side with one arm, aware she was trying to step slightly aside, shielding herself from view.
 

“Bennett, I do hate to interrupt,” Natalie stated blandly. “But I’m afraid I have urgent news. I couldn’t get through to you on your phone and, unfortunately, it couldn’t wait.”

He frowned, knowing the issue must be important for her to come meet him like this. He took few vacations and when he did, Natalie handled things with competent efficiency. In fact, he couldn’t recall a problem she hadn’t fielded personally, usually briefing him of the pertinent details after the event.

They all walked together, Natalie patiently waiting as Bennett retrieved the luggage.
 

Bennett turned to Natalie. “Did you drive yourself or take a taxi to get here?”

“I took a taxi, so we could talk on the way back to the office.”
 

With that, Bennett realized the weekend was well and truly over. Natalie was seriously worried, and he trusted her enough to follow her lead.
 

He frowned, his eyebrows gathering. But Devon patted his arm in reassurance.
 

“You two need to catch up. Don’t worry, I’ll grab a taxi to save time.”

Bennett hesitated, unwilling to end what had been a perfect idyll.
 

Natalie intervened. “I really
am
sorry to interrupt,” she clasped her hands together, wrinkling her brow. “But I think that would be best. This matter cannot wait, Bennett. And it requires a certain
privacy
, if you understand.”

“
Natalie
.” Surely she knew he trusted Devon. Explicitly.

Devon flexed the hand she’d left on his arm, halting his objection. “I understand. Go take care of business. I’ll see you later.”

He lightly kissed her forehead before ensuring she had a taxi and settling her into it. When he returned to Natalie’s side, she stared at him, shaking her head in wonder.
 

“What?”

“Nothing. Now I see why I never stood a chance, that’s all.”
 

Bennett looked at her, horrified.
 

Natalie laughed. “No worries, Bennett. I’m great, as it turns out. Happy.” Smiling at his obvious relief, she continued. “All’s well that ends well, yes?”

***

Devon didn’t see Bennett again that day. Another day passed, and then a third. He remained embroiled in whatever trauma was shaking the foundations of Sterling International. No one knew what was happening, the hushed whispers through closed meeting room doors telling no one anything.

Not even Devon.

Bennett called, but they were rushed conversations inevitably interrupted by other callers or Natalie. He was in non-stop meetings, new ones being scheduled on top of others. When he couldn’t call, he texted, and Devon responded by being comforting, undemanding.
 

She knew how to do this, to soothe and strengthen without burden. She missed him, horribly. But she fell into old habits of placation, not wanting to drive him away with neediness or by asking too much.
 

So she waited.
 

She accomplished a tremendous quantity of work. Even Aidan, when he wasn’t looking harassed these days, praised her output. She wondered if he knew what was happening, or whether it was simply pre-wedding nervousness. She’d ask him later when she had the chance.

At the end of the third day, she went home, knowing it would be another evening alone. She checked her watch.

“Dad.” She paused, listening as her father fumbled his phone.
 

After a momentary hesitation, he answered. “Devon, how are you, honey? It’s so good to hear from you.”
 

She heard him moving about, and the rustling of papers.

“Is this a bad time?”

Another lull, then, “No, no, not at all. What’s happening over there?” His voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Devon stared at her phone. Telling herself she was imagining problems where there weren’t any, she carried on. “I miss you, Dad.” She hadn’t meant to blurt that out and waited for his usual concerned overreaction.

It didn’t come.
 

In a curiously flat voice, he answered,“I miss you too.” That was it.
 

“Dad, is something wrong?”

Another delay. “No, no. Everything is great.”
 

She heard him draw a deep breath.

Before she could ask anything more, he said, “Tell me about work. How’s it going?”

Her normal reticence disappeared. It was her father, after all, and she could share with him. She fully trusted him, even with delicate news.
 

“Actually, right now there’s some kind of emergency. Everyone’s on edge, but it’s all very hush-hush, and very few people are involved.” And she wasn’t one of them. “It’s probably something global, something with the markets. Or maybe stocks.” She hoped it was external. Bennett and his grandfather had worked so hard to build their company. “It’ll die down soon, I’m certain.”

After a hitch, when she thought she heard papers being shuffled again, he answered. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Devon. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Devon was irritated. “Well, let’s hope.” She hated being patronized. How could he know things would be all right? “Listen, you’re distracted, obviously busy. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

John Sinclair didn’t argue. Instead, he told his daughter he loved her and ended the call.

Devon stared at the phone in her hand. That was odd.

But her thoughts quickly returned to Bennett, and all he might be doing. She hoped he would surprise her soon by coming to stay the night. It would be up to him, as she didn’t want to show up at a bad time, stressing him further.

No, she would continue to wait. He would come to her.

***

Dominic and Patrick Martin sat across from John Sinclair at his dining room table, drinking espressos as they struggled to understand his side of the conversation with Devon. Finally, John pulled a tablet over and scribbled notes while trying to keep up with what his daughter was saying. He flipped the tablet around so they could read.

Crisis at Sterling.

Still private. No one’s talking.

Devon doesn’t know.

Patrick looked at Dom, dipping his head towards the doorway. Dominic got up, following him into the kitchen.

Patrick didn’t mince words. “She’ll know soon. She knows us, and she sure as hell knows you.”

Dominic nodded, feeling his gut knot around the slow burn he’d felt since leaving London.
 

Patrick squeezed his shoulder. “It’s time. Go back and finish this.”

***

Devon rotated her neck, trying to work out the tension knotting its way into her shoulders. As much as she tried, she couldn’t get the numbers in the report she was working on to make any sense. Something was very wrong.
 

Her phone rang, interrupting the dead silence. Picking up the extension, she answered while applying filters to the spreadsheet, eager to find what must be an error from data entry. She’d double-checked the formulas for accuracy, so that wasn’t the problem. But there was a serious anomaly somewhere, as results couldn’t change so radically from a week before with only slight market changes.

“
Devon
.”
 

Aidan’s exasperated voice penetrated her concentration. Belatedly, she remembered the phone pressed to her ear.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” she sighed. Maybe she could vent her difficulties to Aidan. “I’m working on this stock valuation report and I can’t seem to make any sense of it. Is it possible our files are corrupted?” Pure frustration made her ask, simply because she’d been unable to find the source of the error.
 

Aidan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “
That’s why I’m calling you
. Get down here. And don’t say anything to anyone, okay? Just save your files, shut down, and come straight to my office.” He hung up, not giving Devon time to say another word.

She slowly replaced her phone and did as he asked, wondering what the intrigue was. It wasn’t like Aidan to be dramatic, so something was afoot. She paused, thinking. He might need her recent calculations. Shutting and slipping her laptop in a tote bag, she hiked it onto her shoulder. Even if she encountered someone, she doubted she’d raise suspicion.

Clearly, Aidan was getting to her.

She knocked. After cracking the door and shooting a gaze past her to make sure no one was around, he pulled her inside. Devon laid her tote down before sitting across from him, brows raised.

“Aidan, what is going on? You’re acting like you’ve been recruited by MI-5.” She laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension, but there was no answering chuckle.

“Keep your voice down, I don’t want anyone to know we’re here. But, I can’t think of anywhere better to go.” His eyes moved from side to side, as if he were surveying the area for possible hiding spaces. “Did you bring your laptop? I forgot to ask.”

“I did.” she said slowly, growing more concerned as his behavior veered from odd to extraordinary. “But why don’t you tell me what’s going on first.”

He leaned in, motioning her to do the same. “Surely you’ve noticed how uptight Bennett is. Even Natalie is tense about something. They’re in full crisis mode.” At her nod, he continued. “There’s been a security breach. And it’s massive.”

Devon abruptly sat back, gaping. She swallowed hard before raising a shaking hand to cover her mouth. “Aidan,” she croaked, “what’s been stolen?”

“Account numbers of our clients. Personal data.”
 

She felt the blood draining out of her face.