she’d been his sister. That, Lilith was certain of.
“But alas,” Tony was saying with mock drama, “as always, I am too late to win the fair lady.”
Lilith at last found her voice, and her poise.
“Children, children,” she said in mock severity, “take the bantering outside, please. I have work to do.”
Liana laughed, patted Tony’s arm in a way that put her previous words clearly into that sisterly category and went back to her own office.
Tony Alvera didn’t move. And at Lilith’s teasing words or tone, something had flickered in his eyes that had caught her attention. Something that reminded her that for all his easy, practiced charm, this was a dangerous man.
Something you shouldn’t forget, she told herself, although she wasn’t sure why it seemed so important at this moment; since they were both Redstone, he would never be dangerous to her.
For a long moment he stood there, just looking at her. He wasn’t a huge man, just under six feet she guessed, but he somehow managed to fill the room anyway. It must be the combination of obvious strength, the striking looks, dark eyes coupled with golden skin and the rather rakish patch of beard below the middle of his lower lip, and the edginess he radiated at almost every moment.
The evidence that the edginess was for real was clear in the barely noticeable patches of slightly lighter skin on his neck and hands, where she knew gang tattoos had once been.
When she’d first met him, when he’d been assigned to help Liana and Logan, she’d found him disconcerting, to say the least. When she’d learned his story, from Josh himself, she’d found him admirable.
Right now, standing solidly in her office staring at her a little too intently—and for some reason apparently not willing to leave as Liana had—he was nothing less than unsettling.
And suddenly the obvious answer hit her.
“Not you,” she said, nearly groaning it.
His face changed. The transfixing look vanished, replaced by the practiced charm she’d seen him use so effectively before. Not the teasingly flirtatious manner he’d had with Liana; that had been oddly innocent and sincere. This was the demeanor he used to beguile people, mostly women, she was certain, into giving him what he wanted.
Whatever that might be.
That was something that hit a chord deep within her, and not in a good way.
“Sorry, Mrs. Mercer. Luck of the draw.”
She was hideously aware that she’d uttered her gut reaction aloud. And since she wasn’t even sure what had prompted that reaction, she didn’t know quite how to explain it to herself, let alone to the man she’d just unintentionally insulted.
But manners dictated she say something, so she opted for simplicity. And truth, which was never an optional choice for her, not anymore. “I’m sorry. I’m just not sold on this whole idea, and it seems absurd to pull you, of all people, in on such a silly little thing.”
And that was all true, she told herself. It just wasn’t all of the truth. There had been something much more deeply rooted in that involuntary response to his presence. It wasn’t that he wasn’t efficient and effective—he wouldn’t have lasted in Redstone Security if he wasn’t And she had admired how he’d handled Logan’s case, including how he’d dealt with the stubborn, reluctant ex-cop. But that contact had been intermittent. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with his intense presence all the time.
His expression changed again, but only slightly. After a moment he nodded, as if in acceptance of her explanation. But the original, riveting stare didn’t return, and somehow that unsettled her even more. Why, she didn’t know. She was usually unruffled and ever calm; it was the trait most commented on by anyone who knew her. But now—
“We need to talk about what’s happened. Who might want you hurt. I’ll try not to disrupt your life too much. But this is on Josh’s orders, and you know what that means.”
“I know it means anyone at Redstone would walk through fire if he asked, yes.”
“Even if he didn’t ask,” Tony said. “Because he wouldn’t.”
“He wouldn’t have to,” Lilith said, thinking of her own debt to the man who had built this empire.
“No,” Tony agreed.
This, at least, they had in common, she thought. They would both do anything for Josh Redstone. She knew why Tony would; his story was legend at Redstone, along with Draven’s and Ian’s and many others.
And it suddenly hit her that she was going to have to tell him her own story. And that made her feel faintly nauseated.
If only Samantha wasn’t pregnant. She could have told her, much more easily. She doubted the tough, beautiful blonde could have related—she doubted Samantha Gamble had ever been truly afraid in her life—but she would have understood.
The moment the thought formed she was appalled at herself; Samantha and Ian were delighted, if bemused, at their impending parenthood, and to wish that away, even for a split second, for her own benefit made Lilith ashamed of herself.
It was time to get a grip.
“Close the door, would you, please? The fewer people who know about this, the happier I’ll be.”
Tony complied without a word. Lilith walked back to her desk and sat down. Normally she would have taken the second chair in front of her desk, but she needed the bulwark.
Because she had just shut herself into a small room with the one person at Redstone who made her unbearably nervous.
It was going to be a very long morning.
Just when did you become a masochist?
As he sat in the chair opposite her desk, relieved now that he’d seen for himself that she indeed seemed uninjured, he was very aware that she’d chosen to take her desk chair for the feeling of power or security it gave her, and the benefit of the desk between them. He also knew the answer to his own question. The moment he’d realized Josh was convinced Lilith could really be in some kind of danger, he’d had no choice. Even knowing he was going to regret it.
He already did.
The moment he’d walked in and seen her, all the truths he’d lived with since he’d first met her had risen up to swamp him anew. Lilith Mercer was everything he was not: elegant, refined, classy, cultured. He knew, thanks to the world Josh had opened to him, that he could put on the appearance of all those things. But he also knew that in him they were only skin deep. In Lilith, they went clear to the bone.
And he hadn’t missed her reaction when she’d seen him; she didn’t want him around. It puzzled him for a moment; they had gotten along well enough during his work on Logan’s case, when she had asked him to keep her posted for Liana’s sake.
But this was different, he supposed.
