CHAPTER
FIVE
CLAUDIA
“Why the change?” I asked Karen, hustling out the door of my apartment in just enough time to get me to the address in Greenwich Village. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know. But the client called me last night and told me to have you meet him at the airport instead. You have your passport?”
“God,” I sighed. “Yes, Karen. I have my passport.” She’d already texted me before I picked up the phone. It spiked suspicion and I called her back immediately. “Why do I need it? You shipping me off to a foreign land?”
My laugh sounded brittle to my own ears, and she didn’t return my humor.
Which meant she was.
“Karen—”
“You’ll be fine. Everything will be okay. Just stick to the rules of the contract and you’ll be safe, Claudia.”
Her tone had softened, similar enough to my own mother’s voice that tears pricked my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. I’d done it enough over the last few months.
“Okay, then.”
“Keep in touch, please.”
Back to business. Although this sounded more familiar than professional and the idea Karen actuallycaredabout me made fighting tears harder. “Okay, Karen.”
“See you soon. Be good.” She clicked the phone before I could confirm I was always the good girl.
Reaching the taxi, I gave him the address of the small private airstrip I’d been instructed to arrive at and settled back in the ripped and cracked leather seats.
Maybe leaving New York wouldn’t be such a bad thing for me. Heading out of the country would give me even more anonymity and make me harder to find.
My hands clutched the door handle in the back seat as the taxi driver zipped and whipped through traffic, blaring his horn. It could have been his reckless driving that made me feel like I was going to throw up but mostly it was the uncertainty. Despite my efforts to close my eyes and take calming breaths, I was still strung tight when he pulled through the gates and came to a stop right outside a small hangar and an even smaller airplane.
And then my breath lodged in my throat and all the tension curled in my stomach.
Holy freaking crap.
I knew the man at the bottom of the stairs. I’d just smashed into his muscled and hot chest not even twenty-four hours ago.
When I ran into him yesterday it hadn’t even occurred to me he was Karen’s next appointment. Clients were confidential and not known to me until they arrived in her office.
As Liam walked to the taxi and handed the driver a wad of rolled up cash, I was certain I was going to throw up as soon as I exited the vehicle.
“You made it,” he said, opening the door for me and holding out a hand.
I didn’t take it. No way was he going to feel how nervous he made me.
Liam Allistor. Rock God. Accused of rape. Accusations withdrawn for reasons unknown to me or the public.
“How are you, Claudia?” He smirked when he said my name, pleased he’d discovered it when I refused to give it to him yesterday.
What game was he playing?
“Hello, Mr. Allistor.” My hands stayed clasped together in front of me.
“Liam, please. I hate being Mr. Anything.”
