Page 54 of Protecting You
He wanted Alyssa to have a good reason to come to his end of the room every once in a while. He studied the fireplace. “This gas?” It was—he could tell by the little silver key and keyhole. “Mind if I fire it up?”
“Be my guest.” Ghazi flicked his hand Callan’s way as if to brush off a fly.
Arrogant jerk.
But Callan said, “Great!” with so much enthusiasm, he feared he’d oversold it. “You got a lighter?”
Ghazi pulled one from his pocket, and Callan turned the key to turn on the gas.
Ghazi leaned down beside him, flicked open an antique lighter, and lit the flame.
Oh, it wasthelighter. Callan had heard about it and figured there was a story behind it. Everyone who’d ever had dealings with Ghazi had mentioned that lighter.
He pocketed it. “Anything else you need?”
“Nope. This is fine. Thanks.” He settled in a cushy chair and propped his feet on a blue velvet—and way too fancy for dirty shoes—footstool. “I could get used to this.”
Ghazi’s smile was tight, and Callan figured he was trying to decide if keeping Alyssa in line was worth putting up with Callan.
He laced his hands behind his head. “So what are you working on, Paris?” He tossed the words across the room.
Alyssa peeked around the screens and gave him a look—eyebrows lifted, amusement on her lips.
“Not even a hint? I’m bored to death over here.”
“I have every confidence you’ll survive your boredom, Mr. Thompson.”
“Caleb. Just Caleb.” He closed his mouth, and Alyssa returned to her task, fingers racing over the keyboard he could see beneath the screens that hid her face.
Ghazi settled in his chair again, as if she required supervision.
Callan needed his laptop and his cell phone. And until he got those things, he needed to make a nuisance of himself so Ghazi would hurry up and get them for him.
He stood and thumped—maybe making his footsteps louder than strictly necessary—to the French doors leading to a narrow balcony. He opened them and stepped outside. The gardens really were beautiful, an explosion of color and scents. Birds sang in the trees that towered over the house, a few twittering around the feeders hanging here and there. Squirrels raced across limbs, hopping from one to another. Bees buzzed among the cottony catkins on a pussy willow bush.
The yard was so deep, he couldn’t see a house behind it.
“Whoa, Paris. You gotta see this.”
“I’m a little busy,” she called.
He looked at her over his shoulder. “One minute won’t kill you.”
“Caleb. I’m trying to work.”
“I’ve got work to do too.” He allowed annoyance to color his tone.
“Perhaps you should’ve gone to your own office,” Ghazi said.
Callan glared at the man. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Caleb.” Alyssa’s tone was appropriately irritated. “Please, stop it.”
He shook his head. “You’re right. I’m just restless.” He crossed to the double doors that led to the hallway. “I’ll just go check on?—”
“Stay here, please.” Ghazi tapped on his phone screen. “I’ll ask them to deliver your things immediately.”
“All right, then. Thanks.”
