“You look like shit.”

I frowned at Thad. If he said I looked like shit, I was pretty sure I did. I blamed it on the lack of sleep I’d gotten thanks to the pain-in-the-ass maneuvers of Ciaran Thompson.

“Thanks,” I replied, looking around his office.

It hadn’t changed much over the years. It still contained a few photos of his ex-wife and kid. They had only been married for a couple of years when the love of his life announced she was pregnant and followed it up by admitting she was having an affair and wasn’t sure who was the father.

It amazed me Thad had kept the same cool composure as everything unfolded, even while he waited for the DNA results proving he was the unborn baby girl’s father. Anyone who didn’t know him would have thought he had been indifferent to the entire situation but I knew the truth. It had gutted him. I didn’t blame him. Honestly, if it had been me, I wasn’t sure I could have coped knowing the woman I loved had lied and betrayed our relationship.

“So, what did you find out?” I asked, not bothering to comment on my appearance.

“Not much. I did some digging around but came up empty handed.”

“How is it after a year of absolutely nothing, this shit starts up again?”

Thad crossed his massive arms over his chest and tilted his head as he looked at me. I got the feeling he was sizing me up but for what, I wasn’t sure. I had a bad feeling it had to do with the information I gave him about Ms. Thompson turning up in my office and feeding me some sob story about a fake emergency.

“You sure this woman doesn’t have anything to do with it?”

I absentmindedly tapped my hand against my thigh.

The problem was, I wasn’t sure, especially after what she had just cornered me with. More than one sign pointed in her direction since she had appeared just as the threats started again but I was having trouble seeing down that path.

“She asked me about Dr. Duarte.”

“And she found his name where?”

“I don’t know, the internet perhaps.”

“We both know that’s doubtful. We covered our tracks carefully.”

Thad was right. Both of us had done some thorough cleaning behind that mess so it didn’t resurface. But somehow it had.

“What did she say when you asked her?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why wouldn’t you ask where she got his name from?”

“It’s a little complicated.”

“Shit, Kean. Now isn’t the time to think with your dick.”

I stood and began to pace around Thad’s office as I flexed my hands.

When Ciaran mentioned the doctor’s name I’d lost it, mainly because it was the last thing I expected to come from her soft little mouth. I had assumed she had shown up to request a repeat of what had happened at the restaurant, which I wasn’t about to grant her no matter how badly she begged. Though, I wanted to hear her beg. Instead I lost control of my temper. My hand had fit too quickly around her neck. Too easily. Just as easily as my tongue had slipped inside her.

“I wasn’t thinking with my damn dick, Thad. She fucking caught me off guard when she threw his name out.”

We both stayed quiet for a while. I could almost hear Thad thinking.

“Look, we will figure out who is behind all this, but you need to keep your distance from her. She is a journalist. One word of this gets out and you’re fucking screwed.”

I stopped pacing and sat back down, having decided not to tell him I may have already crossed that line. It was bad enough I was going to have to bring up Whitman.

“There’s another problem.”

Thad uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“I saw Ciaran with Stuart Whitman at a restaurant. I was able to corner her and ask how they knew each other. She said they worked together at the magazine.”

“And you were holding this back from me?” Thad appeared calm on the outside but I knew his temper was simmering just below the surface.

“I wasn’t holding anything back. I just hadn’t gotten around to mentioning it yet.”

“Kind of important stuff not to mention. Whitman poses a problem and I will look into him. What I need to know is if you believe the journalist?”

I licked my bottom lip recalling how sweet Ciaran tasted on my tongue.

Seeing her with Whitman had infuriated me. As I’d watched her at the table that night, I had tried to put my finger on why she was drawing such a reaction from me when it suddenly dawned on me why she had seemed so familiar when I had seen her in my office. Ciaran Thompson was the woman in the baseball cap at the café, the blonde woman on the treadmill at the gym. Sipping her wine, she looked different but I knew it was her. I felt it. It was the way she carried herself and the look in her eyes that gave her away. She had been stalking me for days.

I was so pissed I hadn’t caught on earlier, I decided to screw with her. I wanted to aggravate her, set her off, scare her away. I wanted to unravel her.

When Ciaran stormed away from the table, I knew my manipulations had been successful. I followed her into the hallway and pulled her into the cleaning closet to demand answers. It was the unexpected jealousy in her tone when she assumed I had been fingering Tracie under the table that threw me off course.

I had to steal a kiss from her and it fucked me over. Every fucking inch of her was so soft. So pliable. I immediately wanted to know what she tasted like everywhere. The second I got a taste of her arousal whatever was left of my initial plan to scare her away changed course. And as soon as she had climaxed, she looked at me with her soulful eyes filled with hope, and I realized she was more dangerous than she appeared. I knew I had to stay away from her.

“I’m not sure,” I finally answered.

“Yeah, no shit. I could have told you that the minute you got quiet. I’ll look into both of them but you need to keep your distance. Kean, you need to be careful.”

I stood to leave. “I’m always careful. Besides I have you watching my back.” I picked up my laptop bag from the floor by my feet and placed the strap on my shoulder. As I headed to the door, I could feel Thad’s eyes boring into me.

“Kean.” 

He was standing behind his desk when I turned.

“I meant with the girl. Be careful. You don’t know where she surfaced from or what she wants.”

That’s where he was wrong. I did know what she wanted.

It was a story I wasn’t willing to give her.