Under His Protection (17 page)

“The voice said my name.” She bit her lower
lip when she saw the fury ignite in his eyes.

“Why do you keep saying ‘the voice’?”

“Because it was weird. Whoever it was, they
didn’t sound normal. It was all distorted. Almost as if they were
talking into some sort of machine.”

“Damn it.” He slammed his hand on the edge
of the counter. “Have you given your number out to anyone?”

“No.” She shook her head furiously. “Not at
all.”

He scrutinized her, his gaze razor sharp.
“What about that woman you hang out with?”

“Suzanne? But why would she call me and say
those things?” She hated that he even brought her up. Why he didn’t
like her, she wasn’t sure.

“We can’t trust her. We don’t even know
her.”

“
I
know her. And I know she wouldn’t
do anything like that to me. She’s my friend, Mason.”

He snorted. “We know how great your friends
turn out to be.”

Disappointment swept through her, cold and
swift. “That’s unfair.”

“It’s the truth,” he bit out. “I need to
report this. You’ll need a new phone.”

“It was nothing. Maybe just a kid making a
sick prank.” She was lying. It had freaked her out but she hadn’t
expected this sort of reaction from Mason. And she certainly hadn’t
expected a fight.

“Don’t brush it off like you always do. It
was most definitely something.” He started toward the back door but
she stopped him, grabbing him by the arm.

“Can’t you report it tomorrow?” she pleaded.
“You just ordered dinner and I’m starving. Can’t it wait?”

“Go ahead and start eating. I’ll be back in
a few.”

“Mason. Please.”

He carefully extracted himself from her
grip. “I have to make this call.”

She frowned. “You take your job way too
seriously.”

“You’re my job,” he pointed out. “I have to
take your safety seriously. And right now, it’s been
compromised.”

Again the reminder she was nothing but a
job. How she hated when he did that. “Fine. Make your call then,”
she said, her voice soft.

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her
forehead. “I’m not sure how long it will take so go ahead and start
dinner without me.”

She watched him go out the sliding glass
door, his strides determined as he walked across the lawn, his cell
already held up to his ear. The little protective bubble she’d
carefully cultivated around them had burst. Reality had reared its
ugly head and made itself known.

Their idyllic time on Whitney Island was
over.

Chapter Eleven

She’d waited for him, had even told him to
sit and relax when he finally came back into the house forty-five
minutes later while she warmed up the containers of Chinese food in
the microwave.

Mason almost felt domesticated, though it
was ruined by the fact that they’d just argued after she was
threatened by some sort of twisted psycho.

His stomach rumbled loudly when she started
opening containers and her gaze met his, a little smile curling her
lips. “I’m starving,” he offered in explanation.

“Same.” She prepared him a plate and set it
in front of him, then handed over a fork. He dove into his food
with gusto, not wanting to talk, not wanting to fight. Just wanted
to fill his belly, clear his head, make himself feel normal again,
even if only for a few minutes.

He’d spoken to Byron himself, explaining as
best he could the phone call Blake had received. His boss hadn’t
been pleased but hell, neither was Mason. Who the hell had gotten
her number and called her? He had his suspicions but they only
seemed to piss her off.

Yet it was the logical conclusion. He didn’t
trust her new so-called friend, he never had.

Blake sat next to him at the counter and
grabbed the bottle of wine that was close by, pouring herself a
glass, before she filled his. He sipped the cool, crisp wine,
already feeling better now that he’d had a few bites.

He’d gone too long without eating and it
left him cranky as hell. Not to mention everything else that had
just happened.

Blake’s earlier emotional outburst had
surprised him. As had her beautiful artwork. Did he really know
this woman? Sometimes he thought yes. But right now?

He was thinking hell no. He had no clue what
made her tick. She was a constant surprise and it both excited and
worried him.

No, what worried him more was the phone
call.

Glancing at her plate, he watched as she
dragged her fork through a pile of fried rice back and forth. “You
don’t like it?”

“I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I
was.” She reached for the glass of wine and drained it in
seconds.

“Easy,” he murmured, garnering her
attention.

Slowly she set the fork down by her plate
and placed her hands in her lap, kept her gaze downcast. “I’m
sorry. For the argument over the phone call and for—” Her voice was
low and she cleared her throat. “—for my behavior earlier. I kind
of fell apart and I apologize.”

He sighed. This was the last thing he
wanted, a contrite Blake. “It’s all right. You don’t need to
apologize.”

“Yes, I do.” She shook her head. “I got a
little emotional this afternoon. I don’t know why.”

Surprise filled him. He thought she was
referring to their arguing they had not even an hour ago. “Are you
talking about when we were in the studio?”

Blake nodded silently.

He couldn’t remember what was said. Hell, he
was still too distracted by that damn call. “I must’ve upset you
earlier.”

She offered him a weak smile. “No, I upset
myself. I should thank you for what you said. How you complimented
my work. You were very sweet and I appreciate that.”

“Your work is truly wonderful,” he said,
meaning every word. Her expression became solemn, her eyes wide.
The seriousness of their conversation just went up about twenty
million notches. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“You didn’t. It’s just…I don’t know.” She
fiddled with the edge of the napkin, kept her eyes trained on her
plate. “It was hard for me to show you.”

“I know.” He did know. It seemed to take
tremendous effort for her to admit what she was doing. But with
that revelation, came trust and despite their argument, he knew
their relationship had gone to another level. One he didn’t want to
overanalyze for fear of what he might discover. “And I’m not just
talking about when you showed me your painting.”

His words startled her. He saw it in her
gaze when she jerked her head up. “What I shared, it’s a very
personal thing.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Now you know all my
secrets.”

“Don’t worry. They’re safe with me.” Again,
he spoke the truth. He wanted her to know she could trust him more
than anyone else in her life.

“I know.” The smile that curved her lips was
real this time. “I trust you.”

Warmth suffused him. “You do.”

“Of course. You know this.”

He did. She’d become more and more open the
longer they spent time together while he was the one who appeared
to be closing his life up tight. “What we have, what we’ve
been—experiencing. It isn’t casual to you, is it?”

Worry creased her brow. She was such an easy
read. Of course, it helped he’d spent so much time with her. “No,
it’s not,” she confessed.

“You want more.” He should run like hell.
Could he give her more? He wasn’t sure.

“I can only ask for what you’re willing to
give me.” Spoken like a true politician’s daughter.

His heart ached for her. She’d grown so
accustomed in putting up that thick shell around her, it was hard
for her to reveal such personal bits about herself. He could
relate. He’d never been big on opening himself up to anyone
either.

But he needed to be truthful, no matter how
damning his words might be. She had to know where she stood.

“I don’t know what I can give you. I can at
least admit I want to give you more,” he said softly, pausing to
gauge her reaction before he forged on. “But it wouldn’t be right.
I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, taking advantage of this
entire situation. And I’m shirking my duties. I’m not proud of
that.” He shook his head, feeling like a shit.

“I don’t think less of you because of our
situation, Mason. There’s no denying the attraction between
us.”

Yeah, no kidding. “I could lose my job for
sleeping with you. If my superiors found out…”

“They’ll never find out,” she offered
quickly. “At least from me, they won’t.”

“I shouldn’t have risked it regardless. It
was stupid of me.” The smile that curled his lips wasn’t one of
happiness. “We should finish eating.”

He was trying to distract her. Shutting
down, shutting her out. Something he was pretty damn good at.

“Can’t it wait? I’d like to finish this
conversation,” she murmured, reaching for his hand.

He dodged her touch, grabbing his glass of
wine so he could drain it. The phone rang, startling her and they
stared at each other, the shrill ringing piercing the silence.

“Let me get it,” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “No. Let’s ignore it.”
Her voice was vehement, determined. “Talk to me, Mason.”

It didn’t stop ringing and Blake realized it
was the house phone, not one of their cell phones. It had to be a
local call.

Weird. That phone hardly ever rang.

“You get the phone then, Blake. If you
won’t, I will.”

“Oh, my God. This conversation is so not
over.” Infuriated, she stalked toward the kitchen and grabbed the
phone, barking a terse “hello” as greeting.

“Blake? Is that you?”

She stopped short. The woman on the other
end sounded like she was crying. “Suzanne. Is that you?”

“Oh thank God, Blake, you’re home! I’m so
glad. Listen.” Suzanne sniffed. “Can you talk right now?”

Blake glanced toward Mason. He glared at
her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he mouthed the
words ‘Is it Suzanne?’ she shook her head, turned her back on him
and left the kitchen.

“I’m kind of busy at the moment.” Guilt
immediately filled her. She was the worst kind of friend. It didn’t
help that Mason’s suggestions made her the tiniest bit suspicious
of Suzanne’s motives. “How about tomorrow? We could meet for
coffee.”

“Oh.” Suzanne’s voice sounded awfully small.
“I was hoping you could come over tonight. I really need a...friend
to talk to.”

Blake closed her eyes and took a deep
breath. Could she leave, just for a little bit and see what was
wrong with Suzanne? Mason would insist he accompany her, and then
they’d be separated for the rest of the evening. He sitting outside
and waiting for her in the car freezing his butt off, while she
comforted her seemingly distraught friend.

Why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? She had
important things to handle, Mason things. She didn’t want to let
this opportunity slip out of her hands.

“You want to talk about it now? Over the
phone? I have a few minutes.” She really didn’t want to do this,
but her friend needed her and she didn’t want to turn her away
either.

“No, I guess not. I can tell you’re busy,
Blake. I’ll let you go.” A rustling sounded and Blake knew Suzanne
was about to hang up the phone.

“Wait a minute, don’t hang up. Look, I’ll
come over tomorrow to your place first thing, okay? I’ll bring
lattes and you can tell me everything.” Blake thought about it for
a moment, worry creeping down her spine. “Unless you’re in serious
trouble now. Then I’ll come over, no hesitation.”

“No, really I’m all right. I just need a
shoulder to cry on, I guess.” Suzanne sighed. “I can save it all up
until morning. But I’m warning you, be prepared for a cry
fest.”

Blake laughed. “Will do. I’ll give you call
before I come over tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Suzanne paused and it seemed as if
she wanted to say something else, something more. “Thanks, Blake.
You’re a good friend.”

Not good enough. She couldn’t tear herself
away from a certain man to help a friend in need. She felt like a
selfish bitch. “See to you tomorrow.”

Blake hung up and went back into the
kitchen. Mason watched her enter, his expression hard as stone.

“What did she want?” Good lord, he sounded
like the old Mason. The cranky,
I-don’t-like-or-trust-anyone-agent-Russell.

Blake shrugged and sat down, picking up her
fork and moving food about her plate once more. “She sounded really
upset. She wanted me to come over, said she needed to talk.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I couldn’t come over tonight.” She
glanced up, saw that he was watching her very carefully. “I feel
bad about it, though. Some kind of friend I am.”

“You made the right choice. We have no idea
who made that call to you but I think it might’ve been your friend.
And besides, a storm is coming. It’s supposed to break tonight,
lots of rain and strong winds. The roads wouldn’t be safe.”

Great, now he sounded like her father. This
was ridiculous. Why did he get riled up over Suzanne all the time?
She was harmless—Blake really believed that. The weird phone call
had to have come from someone else. It was the only logical
explanation.

“Why don’t you like her, Mason?”

He shrugged, a shadow falling across his
face. “I did some investigating.”

“What? You did?” She couldn’t believe
it.

Okay, fine…she could.

“Yeah, but I found nothing.”

“No surprise.” Blake shrugged, relief
filling her. She didn’t want to find out she’d been duped yet
again. She’d feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“There’s no criminal history, no work
history, no last known address,” he continued.

“So see, she’s not some crazed murderer
ready to kill me. Satisfied?”

“You don’t get it. I couldn’t find out
anything about her.
Nothing.
Your friend Suzanne doesn’t
exist in any type of database in this country which means her name
is false. How are they paying her at the café anyway? Didn’t she
have to fill out forms and give a social security number?”