Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Irritation zinged in my blood, but I told myself Silver putting an emotional wall between us was a good thing. Without another word, I strode into the building to get on with my work.
Quinn found me a few minutes later.
“Want to talk about it?” If he attempted to keep the smirking tone out of the question, he failed.
“Any suspicious packages arrive or anything strange, I want to know first.”
At my gravity, he nodded. “You’re worried?”
“These aren’t pranks. I don’t know what they are, but it’s serious. I feel it in my gut.”
Concern wrinkled his brow. “Okay. I’ll make sure the lads know.”
Quinn trusted my instincts. “Thanks.”
About an hour later, I was up on a platform fitting moldings to the dining room ceiling to give the edges the swan neck cornicing that was reminiscent of the building’s original Victorian grandeur.
Someone whistled, and I turned to look down.
Quinn.
He wore a grim expression. “Andy brought this to me.” He held up an envelope. “Again, no name or address on it.”
I muttered a curse under my breath and climbed down. Since the package didn’t have a name or address on it, I didn’t feel bad about opening it. Peering inside, I saw what looked like a single photograph.
“We got any gloves lying around?” I muttered to Quinn.
“Just work ones and they won’t do.”
I moved over to my tools and pulled out a pair of slim pliers. As delicately as possible, I clipped the very edge of the photograph and slipped it out.
Quinn hovered at my side as we peered at the image.
It was of an unfamiliar but attractive redhead. A candid shot of her on a busy city street. A swoosh of red paint or lipstick circled her head.
Flipping the photo over, I froze.
Across the back were the words:
THEN MAYBE THIS WILL STOP YOU.
“Well, fuck,” Quinn bit out. “Who do you think that is, then?”
“My bet is she’s someone our Ms. Silver loves very dearly.” With that I brushed past him. “Where is she?”
“Last I saw her, she was out in the garden playing with Akiva … Ramsay, don’t bully her!”
I whirled back around. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He grimaced. “You come across like you’re pissed off at her about this. That’ll just make her clam up more. You saw her this morning. That is a woman who is mad at you. Trust me”—his eyes darkened—“I recognize the signs.”
Considering his words and Silver’s reaction this morning, I nodded grimly. “I’ll be … nice.”
Quinn’s lips twitched. “I doubt it but at least try to be kind.”
TIERNEY
The air was a little damp, but the sun was trying to peek through the clouds above, and since a bit of drizzle didn’t seem to bother Akiva, I kept her outside in the garden close to the house so Quinn could find me if he needed me. Quinn hadn’t said anything about not taking photos of Akiva for social media, so I’d snapped a few beautiful shots of her against the backdrop of the water to upload later.
Now we were playing with a thick twig, Akiva proving she had jaws of steel as she clamped down and tugged me around the garden. I’d just tripped over a divot in the grass and Akiva had come bounding over trying to swipe my face with that pink tongue. Laughing as I tried to avoid the doggy kiss, gratitude swelled inside me and I found myself burying my face in her furry neck.
Ramsay had some balls treating me like I was a threat to Leth Sholas and then expecting me to look after his damn dog! But for Akiva, I would do it because she was the only thing right now that could bring a smile to my face.
That was how he found us.
My jeans dirty and grass stained because I was kneeling in the garden, hugging his dog like she was my life raft.
“You all right?”
I jerked back from Akiva to find Ramsay blocking out the sun, a towering shadow of masculinity above us.
Akiva gave a happy bark and lunged onto her hind legs, pressing her forelegs to Ramsay’s torso as she greeted him.
He rubbed her down with one hand. “Hiya, sweetheart,” he murmured gruffly. “Down, Akiva. Down. Good girl.”
I stood, moving to the side so I could see Ramsay better. He petted the top of Akiva’s head as his stare pierced mine. Awareness scored through me like always. “What?”
Ramsay slowly raised his free hand, and something flickered between the clamp of a pair of pliers. “Take it by the handle,” he commanded but in a much softer tone than usual.
Curious, I did as he asked and brought what I realized was a photograph to my face.
I froze at the candid shot of London about to get into a cab in New York. There was a bright red circle around her head.