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“What did we step in?” I ask.
“That’s a good question.”
“Anything we need to know, Princess?”
Katherine’s gaze meets mine in the mirror.
Not waiting for her answer, Alex asks the vehicle to call his office. A voice, way too perky for this time of night, answers. “Yes, boss?” There’s a hint of humor to her voice, as if she’s used to these late-night requests.
I’m sure she is. Alex’s business is a twenty-four-seven operation at this point.
“Get the chopper ready.”
I glance back at him, trying to read his mind and anticipate his next move. Behind us, two motorcycles are closing in fast, photographers hanging off the back.
“What the hell is going on?”
“We’ll be in touch,” Alex says and disconnects. He has more experience with this than I do.
I should have considered the media before bidding.
Then again, fuck that. I don’t make it a habit to live my life according to those leaches.
“We need to get out of town,” he says, brown eyes locked with mine. “I don’t trust any hotel in this city to keep her safe right now. Not until we get our footing.”
My fingers flex into the luxurious leather-covered steering wheel, and I give a small nod. I know what he’s thinking, where his mind is going.
“Why are they following us?” comes the feminine voice I barely recognize. She’s so quiet, so... broken. Not at all like the brass-ovaried goddess I’m used to going toe to toe with.
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” I ask because it’s obvious to me. She’s a beautiful young heiress and two men just publicly put a price tag on a date with her. It doesn’t take a biostatistician to do that math.
“Seeing us whisk you away from the auction,” Alex adds, not sounding the least apologetic, “probably made the entertainment rags froth at the mouth.”
He’s not wrong, and he’d never apologize for protecting a woman. As soon as he sensed Katherine’s distress on that stage, he went into protector mode. Even though it’d meant going up against me. And neither of us is the type to back down from a challenge.
Rescuing her from a panic attack was a completely logical step, as far as he was concerned.
“This is ridiculous.” There it is. That tinge of upper-crust disdain I’ve come to expect from her.
“You’re not wrong,” I say, cutting in front of a taxi. But the motorcycles hop the curb and gun it up the sidewalk.
Adrenaline spikes my veins like a fine cocktail. From the back, Alex mutters under his breath. Then, “back into your seat, Beauty. Make sure your belt is tight.”
After I hang a sharp left that ignites a flurry of horns and screeching tires, I glance in the rear-view mirror again. Katherine’s on the other side of the seat, and she looks more alert. Alex has his phone in hand now, probably texting his guys.
A second later, he confirms it. “Guys are at the gate to hold back the paparazzi.”
It’s a shame that scientific discovery doesn’t get this type of attention. Advancements in technology. Saving endangered species.
Not that I’m bitter.
Maybe a bit.
Okay, a lot.
By the time we pull into the parking garage, Alex has gone into full bodyguard mode. Katherine’s just the opposite—quiet and burrowing into herself. What have I gotten myself into?
He directs me to his reserved parking space.
