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Was he seriously going to carry on a conversation while he was rubbing Catarina’s thigh?
Yes, yes, he was.
Pig.
“A stunning property in Mountain Springs. Eight bedrooms, each with an en suite, three full baths besides, two half-baths. Just shy of sixteen thousand square feet. Two living rooms, a family—”
“Is it private?” Dale cut in.
“Of course.”
“How private?” he pushed.
“The property itself sits on two acres—”
“I’m not asking about that, Miss Levine. I’m asking if it’s private.”
Asshole.
Before I could rein in my temper and remember I was speaking to a woman-stealing-sex trafficker my shoulders snapped back and my eyes narrowed.
“If you’d let me speak, Mister, you’d know the property I chose for Mr. Jackson not only sits on two acres but it backs up to conservation land. The nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away and the house sits at the end of the road with mature trees and scrub providing more privacy.”
“Tell me more about the house, Atlee.”
I slowly dragged my gaze from Dale’s expressionless face to Martin.
I tried my hardest not to look at Catarina but it was impossible. Martin’s hand was skimming higher, tracing the hem of the very short dress. She gave me a serene smile and if I didn’t know any better I’d think she was actually enjoying the attention.
Damn, she was good.
“Four levels with three-sixty mountain views, as well as The Strip and the valley. It underwent a six-million-dollar renovation last year. Two kitchens, two pools, three outdoor entertaining decks with firepits, an outdoor kitchen, and bar. The primary suite has a sauna, steam shower, and a private outdoor soaker tub. The home is pure luxury and class. You’ll love it.”
I pulled my phone out of my blazer pocket.
“I can email you the details now if you’d like.”
I’d already pulled up the listing before I’d left the Sky Jewel in preparation to send it to Martin.
“No need to email it,” Martin said, holding out his hand. “Show me.”
Shit.
He wanted my phone.
Panic rose.
“Atlee?”
Please, Lord, the universe, goddess of good fortune, any of the above, please do not let Wilson text me while Martin was looking at my phone.
The short distance to Martin’s chair felt like I was walking to my death.
This could be it.
One text and I’d be caught.
I handed my phone over. Martin took it and started scrolling through the pictures. Cat’s eyes were on the screen as well. I was acutely aware Dale was behind me and likely not pleased I’d snapped at him.
