Page 87 of Wicked Heat

“And you’re so sure I’m going to agree to let him help that you’re only mentioning this now?” I hear my voice rising in fear. It doesn’t sound like Ash has broken any of the blackmailer’s rules, but I’m still worried. What if Noah doesn’t understand and pulls in a cop? Or has someone on the team who’s also on the Stark Security payroll, and investigative company founded by Damien after the kidnapping.

Except I know Noah wouldn’t do either of those things. And that’s when I realize what’s scaring me. It’s not who Noah is, it’s what he’ll be doing.

What if he sees the images of me?

I shiver, then hug myself, shaking my head slowly. “You should have asked me first.”

He reaches over and puts his hand on mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or make it worse. I thought having Noah set up before we got there was a good idea. We’re leaving LA, but we’re flying into a safety net.”

“I just—those videos.” I swallow as I blink back tears. “I don’t want anyone to see.”

“Oh, baby,” he says, his shoulders drooping. “I’m so sorry. Of course, that worries you.”

“I don’t want anyone⁠—”

“And no one will,” he says firmly. “I can’t think of a single reason why Noah or anyone else we call in to help will have to.”

“You think we’ll have more than Noah on the team?”

“I think we want to trace the money. And since that’s outside my pay grade, we’re going to rely on the most trustworthy and loyal help we can round up. Okay? “His voice is as gentle as the fingertip that strokes my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I thought I was giving you one less thing to think about. I wasn’t trying to make it worse. I would never do that to you. I lo⁠—”

He clears his throat. “I lost my head. But we’re on the same page now.”

I barely hear those last words. All I hear is what he didn’t say: love.

Was that what he’d truly intended to say? Or am I only hearing something I want to hear?

Want to hear…

The thought echoes in my head, surreal and scary. And far too fast.

Or is it? I was attracted to Ash the first moment I saw him, back when he burst into the Stark home full of misplaced anger and a lust for revenge.

I’ve followed his career and I’ve listened in awe whenever anyone brings up his skill and intelligence. I’ve felt my heart squeeze when he sits on the floor to play with his younger siblings, and I happily accepted anytime he offered to join me in the playroom when I was drowning in kids.

Other than those first, horrible days when everyone’s expectations and understandings were all screwed up, Ashton Stone has proven to be one hell of a guy.

He’s even more so now, as far as I’m concerned. Yes, helping me helps his little sister, but he didn’t know that when he first signed on.

I needed three million, and he pledged to get it for me.

At a price.

The little voice in my head is more accusation than warning. Because no matter what Ashton’s motives were for demanding the deal we struck, at the end of the day, it proved two things beyond a shadow of a doubt: That he wants me, at least for now. And, so help me, that I want him, too.

“Bree?” The worry in his tone pulls me from my thoughts.

“Sorry. What?”

“Are we okay?”

I’m not sure if he means about the possible slip of his tongue until he continues with, “Noah isn’t going to see those videos, and neither is anyone else who may end up helping us. I should have checked with you first, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I thought I was lifting the burden, not making it heavier.

“I get that,” I tell him. “Truly. I just—I freaked a little bit.”

“I’m not going to blame you for that.”

We drive in silence for a while, then at a stoplight, he turns to me. “Do you trust me?”