Chapter Nineteen

Simon was doing everything he could to keep things professional, and he was proud of himself for doing as well as he had. As long as he didn’t touch her.

He’d even managed to be nicer. The guys at the firm wouldn’t recognize him. They’d been checking in with nightly updates, as each had gone around to different bars and clubs in the city trying to find a way for these guys to target Lacie. Hollerman had gone back to interview the one man in custody who hadn’t been released yet, the man Simon had kept from breaking into her house. All the rest had posted bail and disappeared.

Upon further questioning, Hollerman learned his family had been threatened if he broke some sort of non-disclosure agreement stating where he’d gotten Lacie’s information. Sure enough, his sister had recently been in a really bad car accident which had her laid up in a hospital. Simon thought of the explosion, which had ruined his Jeep for examination, but he was confident someone had leaked his brake fluid out of his lines. That would explain them working for a half a mile or so, to where they’d stopped by the side of the road, and then going out at the top of the hill above the tree, which it later showed had been cut down.

Simon stayed focused on these things because he could not love Lacie. Love led to pain. To betrayal. To loss. To death.

He might not allow himself to love her, but he damn sure wasn’t going to lose her.

For Lacie, the week went on in a painful acknowledgement of her place. Simon only touched her during dance instruction, arm’s length between them, his heated fingertips sparking fires within her. It was torturous, but as he’d said himself, she was a job. Nothing more.

He was kind and funny and friendly toward her yet always alert for danger which never came.

Until Thursday night’s girls’ night.

Simon had run by her mailbox in the office before they’d left to go home and get ready for girls’ night. When he got to where Lacie waited to be walked outside, his arms were full of interoffice mail.

“Let me drop this stuff off at my desk. I’m not taking it home.” It sounded funny to talk about his house as home, but it slipped out and he didn’t correct her, so she didn’t make a big deal out of it. If she corrected herself, that would make it a big deal. Dropping the pile on her desk, she noticed one that looked personal. Slipping it into her bag, she shouldered everything and followed Simon out to his car.

They went to his house to get ready, and in spite of herself, Lacie dressed for him. She wore a green, fitted dress, with a short skirt and a cutout back and an extremely low neckline. She paired it with thigh-high stockings and a set of the prettiest underwear she had. Then she actually dug a pair of heels out of the box of shoes she’d brought over. She spent extra time on her hair, curling the ends so it fell in wavy cascades around her face. Lacie kept her makeup minimal, but she did apply some lip gloss and mascara, hoping to bring some light to her otherwise dull face.

Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room where Simon was waiting. He turned and froze, his eyes raking her body from toe to hair before a slow grin stole across his face. Warm under his scrutiny, she returned the smile.

“We are going to the same dive we went to last week, right?” Simon looked incredulous as his gaze heated her.

“Yes, why?” She was proud of the way he was losing his cool. He looked at her with a heat he seemed to reserve for dance lessons, and she liked it. She may be just a job, but when he looked at her like that, she felt like she was more. And it felt good.

“Because you look like you’re ready for a date at Aquarelle, that’s all.” He slipped his hand to the small of her back and led her out the door.

Dressed to kill, Simon wore dark-gray dress slacks and a black pinstriped dress shirt, sans tie, the top two buttons unbuttoned just enough to tease with a view of his strong neck and pronounced Adam’s apple.

The ride there was made in awkward silence, where Simon clenched the steering wheel in a death grip and Lacie regretted her wardrobe choice. She’d made herself attractive, and now he wasn’t going to speak to her. She sighed to herself.

“Do you think you could sit somewhere else and be broody tonight? I sort of wanted to let off a little steam.”

She watched his reaction, afraid she was being too blunt. To her relief, he chuckled. “I think I can still do what I need to from the bar, as long as you’re close.”

“Thanks. Your moods are a little …” She searched for a word that wouldn’t be too rude but had a hard time.

“It’s okay. You’re right. I’m being an ass.” He grinned at her, and she felt better as they pulled into a parking spot not too far away from the bar.

When they walked in and found the table with Emily and Aubree, Lacie was surprised to see Trent there as well. Simon waited for a nod from her before he went over to the bar, about ten feet away, and perched on a stool to watch her.

“Trent! I didn’t think you’d be here.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re a creature of habit, Lace.”

As if nothing happened. She looked over at her girlfriends, and they shrugged. “But I broke up with your voicemail. Didn’t you get that?” she whispered to him over the din of the bar.

He clutched her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth, but she stiffened, trying to pull it away. “I did, that’s why I came tonight. I wanted to apologize. I’ve been a dick, Lace. I’m sorry.”

Slightly mollified, she tried to smile at him, but Simon was glaring over Trent’s shoulder and it was sort of funny, so she giggled a little instead. She tried to muffle it with a cough, but it was lame. “Trent, really, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to. We’re just not right for each other.”

“But you need me.” Before he could continue, a tall, statuesque woman came and grabbed his arm.

“Trent, I really need to speak with you.” He didn’t move. “Now.”

He rolled his eyes and grudgingly said, “I’ll be right back. I’m not finished.”

Lacie sank into a chair with a laugh. “Oh my God. It’s never been so hard to break up with someone. Ever.”

Emily, Miss Nosy Rosy, couldn’t stop herself. “Don’t you want to know what she’s telling him? Maybe she’s having his love child!”

Aubree rolled her eyes. “Love children haven’t happened since 1982, Em.” Turning her eyes to Lacie, she ventured, “But I’m curious too. Do you know her?”

“No, I don’t. She’s probably someone he works with.”

“Or fucking,” offered Emily.

“Or that. Would y’all get me a drink? I’ll be right back.”

Lacie was curious. Maybe if she and the other woman teamed up, they could get Trent to go off with the other woman and leave her alone to enjoy girls’ night.

“You said you would tell her, and you’re over there apologizing? What the hell for?”

“Diane, she’s going through a hard time. I can’t just leave her.”

“You’re not leaving her. She broke up with you. Why are you even here?” Diane hissed at him, and Trent looked sheepish.

“Yeah, Trent, why are you even here?” Lacie gathered there was something between these two, and she didn’t really care, but she was feeling nosy. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor, so if that’s all you’re sort of sticking around for, you can go.”

She turned her back on Trent to find Simon.

“Who is this guy to you?” Trent was behind her, his voice rising, but Simon stepped in front of him.

“I’m the one who’s been here while you weren’t, asshole.”

Lacie couldn’t stop the curiosity from brimming over. “Who are you, anyway?” she asked the woman standing next to Trent with her hand on his arm.

Trent looked at his feet. “Lacie, this is my wife, Diane.”

Lacie’s eyes widened. “Wife?” She’d figured he was sleeping around on her, but married? Really?

“Um, yeah, we were sort of separated when I met you, but we’ve been trying to work things out, and I didn’t know how to tell you with all your other drama.” He looked at her with pleading eyes, and she didn’t even try to stop the laugh that bubbled out.

“Yeah, I don’t see how you could have, seeing as how you never even talked to me while we dated.” To Diane, she tried for cordiality. “Good luck. I respect the institute of marriage, even if your husband doesn’t know how to. Maybe you can grow him a set of dangly bits between his legs.” She should have just said the word balls but wanted to reserve her rare cursing for something or someone who mattered.

“Wait. How are you getting home?” Trent clearly didn’t know what he wanted as he looked between Lacie and Diane, but Simon took the decision right out of his hands with words that left her breathless.

“She’s going home with me, where I’m going to do all the things to her she deserves. Things you wouldn’t even know how to do.”

Diane’s eyes widened at Simon, and Lacie practically heard the woman’s ovaries explode. She almost felt sorry for Diane being stuck with Trent. However, the possessive hand on her back steering her to the table had her forgetting Trent altogether.

“Ladies,” Simon spoke without sitting, “my apologies, but there’s something I need to do to Lacie. If you’ll excuse us …”

“YES! Chakra-straightening time!” Aubree hollered, to Lacie’s immense mortification.

“Oh. My. God. You better fucking call me tomorrow, girl.”

Lacie was entirely too embarrassed to answer either one of them, especially since it seemed like the entire bar was watching them, Trent and Diane included.

“Let’s get out of here,” Simon muttered, his warm breath brushing against her ear.

Yep. She was down with that.

In the car, Simon fumed. He’d stayed behind to make sure Trent understood Lacie was off-limits now. Lacie’s words about not needing a knight in shining armor were bouncing around in his head the entire time. Wasn’t that why he’d been hanging on? Either way, Trent was gone, along with his fucking wife.

He’d snapped. Simon didn’t know what he was doing, but girls’ night out was a bad idea. He looked over at her, in that green dress that hugged every single one of her fucking curves, and cursed.

She looked at him, surprise etched in her features.

“Sorry,” he mumbled but didn’t offer an explanation for his impromptu curses.

When he should have been thinking about the case, going over notes, figuring out what the hell he’d missed, he’d been following Lacie around like a puppy and had no idea what to do about it.

Well, he damn well knew what to do, and he was about to show her a thing or two.

“I’m so sorry about my friends. You would think they’d never had sex before,” Lacie began her ever-constant litany of wanting to talk about what happened.

“Not right now.”

“But I just want to explain. I wasn’t expecting Trent to show up, and—”

“I said, not right now, Lacie.” Simon’s jaw hurt with the tension as he utilized every last ounce of restraint to keep from launching himself at her in the tiny rental car.

That shut her up as he pulled into his garage and shut off the lights.

“Go inside, Lacie. I need to get myself together.” He was deceptively quiet. Anger simmered at the surface, but it was anger at himself. His own lack of control.

With an adorable squeak, she complied, scurrying out of the car and inside the house.

Simon inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He could do this. She was just a woman. He could conquer this. He reminded himself why he was doing it, but Tanya’s face was all but forgotten. It was sort of a relief that he couldn’t remember what she looked like. He could see that as a sign, but he wouldn’t.

When he finally composed himself enough to go inside his home, he found Lacie standing by the wet bar in the living room, looking out over the panoramic vista with a drink in her hand. She looked so pretty in the green dress, lost in thought.

He had to know. The sadist in him wanted to know how badly he was hurting her. He needed to torture himself with the knowledge because, clearly, his own ideals and expectations of himself had fled.

“What are you thinking, Lacie?” he uttered in the quiet room.

She turned to him, her mouth set firmly in a line across her face. She looked like she’d come to a decision, and Simon wasn’t going to like it.

“You aren’t a romantic man, Simon.” He barked out a laugh, but she held up a finger. “I’m not done. You’re not a romantic, but you’re passionate. You walk around, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, assuming all responsibility yourself. You refuse to give up this tenuous grasp of control you insist on having.”

His breath left in a rush, and Simon found himself moving toward her. “I’m usually very much in control, Lacie. It’s you I tend to lose it around.”

Her defiant little chin lifted, and she looked him straight in the eyes, her mahogany pools boring into him. “Don’t lose it, Simon. Take it.”

It wasn’t a conscious thought to kiss her, but Simon found himself lost in the taste of the scotch on her lips. It was easily the tastiest concoction ever invented: Lacie’s lips and Glenfiddich.

This was it. She’d given him control. He was taking it. Damn the consequences.

“Go to my room. No questions,” he ordered and watched as she smoothly walked away, her hips swaying enticingly, and disappeared down the hallway. Did she even know what she did to him?

Simon turned and poured himself three fingers of scotch before tossing the burn down his throat.

Then more deep breathing as he decided which way to fuck her first.