Page 23 of Theirs to Treasure
My cock hardens as my body demands more.
Zev clears his throat, snapping me back to the present moment.
“I’m sure Anna would like to pick up some toiletries,” he suggests.
For a moment, she and I continue to gaze into each other’s eyes. Then intentionally she pulls back and looks at Zev. “Good suggestion.”
Her absence from my arms feels like a loss.
She presses a fingertip to her slightly swollen lips.
Fuck. She’s gotten to me. Hardcore.
The protective sensation magnifies tenfold deep in my psyche as puzzle pieces seem to click into place.
Anna is clearly a fake name. The credit card she pulled out was black in color, and no doubt belonged to the man she was going to marry. Since I carry one that looks much like it, I know it doesn’t have a spending limit attached to it.
Her clutch bears the name of an expensive designer. And so did the gown she left behind in the dressing room.
Though she’s been closed-mouthed about a lot of things, she was marrying into money. A whole lot of it. Which means that someone is looking for her.
The sooner we can get her away from public areas, the better.
“Mind going with Anna?” I ask Zev.
He frowns, and I pull out my phone. “Business.”
“Sure.” He offers his arm.
After a last look at me, she tucks hers inside his. Together they walk toward the gift shop, and I stride down a hallway to find an unoccupied private space where I lock the door.
I scroll to the number of Celeste Fallon, owner of the Fallon Group. No matter what time or day, she will answer calls from certain people. I’m fortunate to be one of them.
“Ah, Forrest.” She’s responded before the first ring is complete. As always, she wastes no time on pleasantries. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’m looking for information on a certain young woman.”
“Are you?” She’s quiet. “I’m seeking information on a certain runaway bride.”
Fuck me. “I’m certain she doesn’t want to be found.”
“I see.”
No doubt she does. “She’s not going back, and I’m going to need some assistance.”
“I believe we have a conflict of interest, Forrest.”
“I’m not fucking sure how, Celeste.” The Donnelly family has been doing business with her relatives for generations, and we are both Zetas, members of a secret society, sworn to help and protect one another.
Then I realize what she’s not saying. “Shit.” Whomever has contacted her is also a Zeta. “The way I see it, you have no choice but to cancel with your other client. I’m sure the woman you’re looking for is an adult capable of making her own decisions. And she’s not going back.” In frustration, anger nipping at the edges of my temper I add, “You don’t want any part of this.”
“This conversation never happened, Forrest.”
I end the call.
Seething with fury, I dial the one man who I know will solve this problem.
Hawkeye.