Liam’s face pops up from where it was apparently next to mine. “What’s wrong?” His voice is groggy, and his hair is mussed from sleep, visible only by the tiny sliver of light coming from the alarm clock.
“You.” I shove him off, only realizing when my hand connects with his skin that he’s shirtless and very warm. He went to bed fully clothed. “It’s one in the afternoon.”
He frowns, looking at the time. “How did that happen?”
I know exactly how it happened. “You drugged me!”
“You drugged me back!”
I fall against the pillow. “I hate you.”
“I’m not too fond of you right now either,” he grunts. He claps his hands, and the lights blaze, burning my irises. “Did you undress me, too?” he asks, patting his chest.
“No.” There’s one remaining throw pillow between us, which is extremely concerning, and I chuck it at him.
“I can’t believe you,” he mutters.
“What? Did I mess up your grand plans of running off?”
“Did I ruin yours?”
I stare him down. We’re at a stalemate.
“Where’s your partner and the FBI team beating down the door?” he asks, his blue eyes unnaturally cold this morning. Er, this afternoon.
I swallow. “It’s possible Agent Harris didn’t hear everything when I was attacked in the bathroom.”
Liam has the decency to look at least a little reprimanded and breaks eye contact first. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover before the gala. And I missed my window to sneak into the mausoleum.” He curses again before striding into the walk-in closet, still shirtless. “We’ve got tickets to the Moore Estate at four.”
I skip over the last thing he said. “I don’t remember the mausoleum being on the agenda.”
“That’s because it was on mine, not yours.” He pulls a suit bag out from a row of at least fifteen other suit bags in his closet because the man doesn’t believe in leisure wear.
He reaches for his waistband, and I hastily retreat to the bathroom.
I need a new plan since he blew up the last two. Maybe I can double-cross him at the gala.
Caleb’s going to figure it out. I’m sure. He’ll realize I’m with Liam and that we are planning to meet with the Winthrops, who will also be at the gala and help me get out of here.
I groan internally. Caleb isn’t a mind reader or future teller. There’s no evidence lying around for him to find. He’ll have to pull at loose strings to find me.
Maybe he doesn’t care to find me.
My heart stops at that thought. We are just partners and only have been for a couple of months. I should have called Ford. But it’s too little too late.
I’ll have to trust that Caleb can find me. And when he does, I’ll be ready to turn Liam in and finally be free.
But will I ever really be?
I scrub my hands under burning water, forcing myself to breathe. I have to get out of this country before everything blows up in my face. Which means Ineed to know everything Liam has planned and use it to plan my own escape. But I’m beginning to worry that the only way out of this iswithLiam.
I step out of the bathroom and see Liam stewing at his computer. His irritation only makes me more annoyed. He brought this on himself. But I bite back the cutting remarks waiting on my tongue.
“Okay, look,” I say. “I think we can be more effective if we stop working against each other. So, tell me the plan.Allof it.No secrets.”
He leans back in his chair, lips pursed. “Tempting. You almost sound nice.” He shakes his head. “I don’t trust nice you.”
“You need me to get to the Winthrops without being captured by hitmen.”
