I might've even apologized for being so intrusive.
But I'd been on-edge ever since the book signing, and his secrecy wasn't helping. It's not like I expected to hang out with him or anything. But itwasstrange that I was supposedly his assistant, and yet had no idea where he went or what he did when we weren't together.
I still had that cell phone, the one he'd given me at Flynn's place a few hours after I'd listened to that tearful message. But no one ever called. And even that one godawful message had been wiped clean, along with any contact information.
The whole thing was beyond strange.
Under his steady gaze, I started to squirm. Unable to stop myself, I finally looked away. As I did, my gaze landed on the elevator buttons, and I felt myself frown.
The numbers went all the way up to seventy. I wasn't the most experienced traveler in the world, but evenIknew that billionaires didn't stay on the lower floors.
No, they stayed at the very top in penthouse suites with private balconies and room to spread out.
If Jack were anyone else, I might've wondered if he was afraid of heights –orif he was trying to save a buck.
But I'd seen his demeanor during the fight that had carried us here. He'd been as cool as a cucumber, even on takeoff and through enough turbulence to make me uneasy. And, as far as the whole penny-pinching idea, it was beyond ridiculous. We'd flown here on his private jet, for God's sake.
As these thoughts bounced around in my sleep-deprived brain, I realized that I hadn't yet responded to his last statement.
I’m not paying you to be curious.
Who knows? Maybe he didn't expect an answer. Either way, I wouldn't learn anything by staring like a coward at a bunch of numbered buttons.
Reluctantly, I looked back to Jack, only to see that he was still hammering me with those ice blue eyes of his, as if he could freeze me on sight.
He was wrong.
I wasn't freezing. I was melting with embarrassment.
By now, I knew exactly how he'd obtained that book, and for some stupid reason, it irritated me more than it should.
Obviously, he'd given in to Darbie's charms, which had been on clear display earlier.
I didn't want to believe it, but it was the only explanation that made sense. After all, no one returned smiling at four in the morning from simply retrieving a book.
Plus, if he'd gotten the book a different way, like if he'd just found it on the sidewalk or something, he'd surely tell me.
Right?
But instead, he was acting like I'd just caught him in mid hump.
I muttered, "Never mind. Forget it."
"Done."
And with that, he turned away just in time for the ding that announced our arrival on the seventeenth floor. When the elevator doors slid open, he strode out, taking my book with him.
Fine.
I didn't want it, anyway.
All I wanted was a shower, if only to wash away the unpleasantness of our encounter, along with all of those visions of Jack Ward encountering Darbie, and maybe even her friend, in the most intimate of ways.
Forget the book.
And forgethim, too.
Except it wasn't that easy.
