Page 79 of Tangled Roses
He carries on studying the screen and then pulls up a recording where Marsha is woken by a notification on her phone. She reads it and then jumps out of bed and begins packing things into a bag and pulls on her clothes in haste, calling for a cab to the airport.
“Fuck!” Luka growls as we watch her head out of her apartment and lock up and then the next thing we hear is her imperious voice hissing into her phone. “You told me five minutes, and it’s been ten already. Where is he?”
“What’s our eta?” I ask quickly.
“Five minutes.”
“Tell the driver to go faster. We must beat that cab.”
As Luka instructs the driver to floor it, my heart thumps as I sense our opportunity slipping away from us and as we turn the corner to Marsha’s apartment block, I notice a yellow cab in front of us.
“Fuck!” I am so frustrated because the last thing we need is a witness and as the cab slows down in front of her building, Luka says grimly, “What the fuck!”
He pounds on the glass separating us from the driver and as the car squeals to a stop, he exits the car at speed and heads off running, closely followed by the men in the car in front.
As I join them, I see a figure slumped on the sidewalk and hear the cab driver call out, “Somebody call the cops!”
CHAPTER 49
ELLIE
Imust have slept for hours, or my limbs ache due to the extreme workout Arman put me through last night.
I reach for him and connect with the cold sheets instead and as my eyes snap open, I stare at the brilliant sunlight filtering through the drapes.
The clock beside the bed tells me it’s lunchtime already, and then I spy the hastily written note on the table beside the bed.
I’m sorry to leave you, but business called. Order some breakfast, I won’t be long.
X
As notes go, it’s practical, much like the man himself, but I am heartened by the kiss at least.
Breakfast. Come to think of it, I’m starving but the fact it’s more like lunch time now, worries me.
He said he wouldn’t be long. Is he waiting in his den, or am I still alone?
I head to the shower to clean up, and my heart flutters when I revisit what we did last night. It was the most magical evening of my life because every doubt I had is gone. I am lucky to be facing a life with Arman for as long as it lasts. I’m not deluded enough to believe this is happily ever after for us. We have just met and the sparkle may rust over time.
It’s why I opted to work with him. To gain a skill while spending as much time with him as possible. I’m intrigued by him and this life. It causes my head to spin and my heart to flutter. I am living the dream, or some may call it a nightmare, but we have been given a chance that I am seizing with both hands.
I pull on a sweater with jeans and tie my hair in a messy bun and head off to find him.
I reach the dining room and it’s empty and with a sigh I decide instead to explore this amazing penthouse. There must a kitchen here and rather than order food, I could make something instead. More than anything I could murder a coffee and as I move through the luxury apartment, I can’t believe my luck.
I wonder what Mr. Reese would say if he could see me now. It would be worth dressing in the designer clothes Arman provided and to swing by there like Pretty Woman. I laugh as I imagine storming into his office dressed like a supermodel and dismissing him with a haughty put down as I report him to upper management for gross misconduct.
I am so engrossed in plotting delicious revenge against Mr. Reese, I don’t hear Arman over the kettle boiling until he wraps his arms around me from behind, causing me to jump.
He kisses me softly on the neck and I say softly, “I hope that’s you, Arman.”
“It will always be me,” he whispers, his husky drawl melting me inside and then he spins me around and wraps his arms around me and says with a deep sigh, “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
The alarm bells start ringing and so I pull back and peer up at him and the turbulent darkness in his eyes tells me something is very wrong indeed.
“What’s happened?”
He runs his fingers across the frown lines on my face and says simply, “Marsha’s dead.”