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“I don’t know what that is. And Bishop?” I shiver. “He sounds like a chess piece.”
“Well, if you’re going to be a chess piece, be the queen. Bishop is his name. Franklin Bishop. He owns Dark Desires.” Malone opens his eyes and smooths his hands down his thighs. He still looks dangerous, all in black like some kind of thief. But something about him doesn’t fit. Even if he’s in the back of a limo that screams “I’m rich.”
Malone cracks each of his knuckles and I cringe. I really hate that sound.
I sit up straight, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “What about UR Fantasies?”
I’m about to snap back that I don’t have any fantasies—a total lie, but I refuse to let them unfurl in my brain because they all have to do with him. And more of the things he’s done to me, with me.
But then I realize what he’s saying.
“UFP?”
“I think that’s the invoice code for that company, UR Fantasies.”
“But,” he says, “you don’t know the other one?”
“I just remember seeing that man, Bishop. Talking to Uncle Grant. He was in a tuxedo in the middle of the day, so he was hard to miss.” I shrug and he reaches out, taking my hand, his thumb drawing circles on my palm.
A shiver runs through me at his touch.
“Do you know what his business is? UR Fantasies?”
“I think they ship camera equipment and DVDs, kinda old school.”
“And the other company? Dark Desires?”
“I’ve never heard of them. I don’t even know if they’re a client.”
He leans in. “How do you know what UR Fantasies ships?”
“I heard Dad talking to someone from there. Dad stopped him when he started to say what he’s shipping, told him that they don’t need to know, it helps with discretion. It’s not his business to know what’s in the crates or boxes, just his business to get it to where it needs to be on time.”
Malone nods. “Can you find out?”
“They don’t know.”
“Okay.” He’s silent now, but he’s still drawing meaningless patterns on my skin. It’s a delicate live wire straight down to my clit and incites the deep ache inside of me. “Can we at least find out if Dark Desires is a client? It could be important.”
I frown. “Do you think they’re behind the threats?” And I shiver because that man, Bishop, gave me an uncomfortable feeling that day I saw him, and it flared up again tonight. “I could ask Dad…”
“No, not yet. I just want to get a list of people since your cousin was threatened. But after tonight’s two events, maybe the threats will stop. Maybe enough people will have seen us together and will back off.”
“Maybe,” I say, somehow not convinced.
He might be a scary and powerful man in his own right, but if someone’s after something with Hanlon Shipping, or if someone is holding a grudge—over what I have no idea—then arming up with all the information might be the best bet of all.
I also think, as I slide my hand free from his, it’s the fastest way to be free of all this crap with Malone.
Because the longer I’m with him, caught up in this fake engagement, the harder it is to remember it’s all a sham.
And doubly harder for me to walk away from the incredible mind-bending sex.
I lean my head against the window and close my eyes.
What the hell am I becoming?
SEVENTEEN
