White Hot

Page 77

“I would work on commission,” he said.

“It wouldn’t be that much money to begin with.”

“I have a cushion,” he said. “In fact, you provided me with one. I came into the office prepared to write a check for half a million.”

“I thought I explained our fees.”

“Yes.” He smiled. “But I didn’t expect you to stick to that arrangement.”

“Well, this is one point you will have to take into consideration. What you quote to the client is what you get. We have rules. Rule One, we stay bought. Once we’re hired, we don’t switch sides. Rule Two, we don’t break the law unless there are extremely unusual circumstances. Rule Three, at the end of the day we have to be able to live with our choices.”

Cornelius considered it.

A loud thumping came from outside. When Rogan finally did show up, I would have to discuss the whole turning-this-area-into-an-army-camp thing. At some point I would have to return to normal business without all this racket. If he showed up. Worry squirmed through me. Maybe he’d changed his mind.

No. This was just anxiety talking.

“Agreed,” he said. “When can I start?”

It was Wednesday. I’d need at least a few days of downtime.

“Next week,” I said.

“Until next week, then.”

He got up and offered me his hand. I stood up and shook it.

“I’ll let myself out.”

He left and I sank back into my chair. We’d just acquired our first permanent employee.

I heard the door open. The thumping noise blasted into the room. This really was too much.

“Nevada!” Cornelius called, trying to out-scream the mechanical roar. “I think this is for you!”

What now? I got up and stepped into the hallway.

An odd-looking military helicopter sat in the middle of the intersection, its spinning blades blasting the street with man-made wind. Rogan was walking toward me.

What . . .

He closed the distance and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

“Come on where?”

“You said you wanted to see the lodge.” He grinned.

“I have no clothes.”

He winked at me. “You won’t need clothes.”

Heat warmed my cheeks. “I need to tell my family . . .”

“You can call them from the air.”

“But . . .”

His blue eyes laughed at me, warm and light. “Come with me, Nevada.”

I clamped my mouth shut and ran with him to the helicopter.

Epilogue

Nevada rolled a heap of snow into a ball. Her smile practically glowed. He’d never seen anyone so happy to play in the snow. It was a wonder the stuff didn’t melt around her. She was like spring, warm and full of life and promise. When she was with him, he couldn’t feel the cold.

They’d had three blissful days of nothing but snow, good food, hot fire, and even hotter sex. He could stay in this lodge forever. He knew they couldn’t, and thinking about going back brought dread. It would be like coming back to a war.

Relax, he told himself. She’s right here, safe and happy. Her family will want to see her on Christmas, and he would have to take her back, but for now they could play in the snow.

He had already bought her present.

The snowball hurled through the air and hit him in the chest.

“Really?”

“Bring it,” she called, her eyes shining.

He raised his hand, shaping the magic around him. A barrage of snowballs broke free from the snowy bank behind him, streaked across the air, and pelted her. He kept the hits gentle, breaking the snowballs a fraction of the moment before they hit her. She stumbled and landed on her back in the snow, laughing.

“Not fair!”

“I’m Mad Rogan. I don’t do fair.”

His phone chirped. He took it out and flicked his finger across it. A message from Bug.

Cold gripped him.

He didn’t see Nevada until she was on top of him. She knocked him off his feet and landed on his chest. Her lips closed on his, and he kissed her, while his mind feverishly cycled through a dozen different strategies.

“What is it?” she asked.

“What?”

“You were here with me and now you’re not. What is it, Connor?”

He opened his mouth to tell her it was nothing, greedy for a few more hours of bliss, and then remembered who she was.

“Bug identified the shell company that tried to buy your mortgage.”

Nevada pushed her hat back. “And?”

“We thought it was Augustine. It’s not. The shell corporation belongs to House Tremaine. Your grandmother knows, Nevada. We have to go back. Your family is in danger.”

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