Madalyn Reese - No Place To Hide

He stopped to wet a washcloth and press it to her forehead. They’d spent so much of the last three months arguing over the business that Emma almost started bawling at the simple act of kindness.

“I’m gonna go speak with what’s-his-name out there for a few minutes,” Brady said soothingly. “I’ll give you time to pull yourself together, but don’t leave this room until I come back.”

Emma nodded, hoping he was aware that Anthony was in the building. She could read between the lines. Brady looked calm, his square face stoic and watchful, but if he came across Anthony, his perpetual bad mood might turn ugly.

The boardroom had fallen quiet. Only the sound of Layne’s pen scratching on a legal pad could be heard while Anthony stoically picked at a brass rivet on his chair arm. He didn’t know what came next, but the day had to take an upward turn soon.

But not quite yet. The door opened for Jim and Hornsby, followed by Brady Wilson, who hadn’t changed one bit. He still had that snooty demeanor. Anthony had no idea why Emma put up with the guy.

“Where’s Emma?” Layne asked after chilly introductions.

“Upstairs,” Brady answered. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Bracco.”

“Mr. Wilson,” Jim cautioned, “Your personal grievances with Anthony can wait. Right now we have business to discuss.”

Brady sat down at the head of the table, the snootiness evaporating before their eyes as he said to Jim, “Look. Let me be straight with you. There’s a lot going on around here that you don’t understand, and I’m not at liberty to share. But I have to ask that you keep Emma out of this. She’s got enough on her plate.”

“What do you mean?” Jim asked.

Brady looked down at the table. “Just understand that if she’s not real cooperative, it’s not her fault.”

“So how do you suggest we make things easier?” Jim asked.

Turning his eyes on Anthony, Brady said, “Get him out of here, for one thing.”

“I’m sorry but we can’t do that,” Walter said. “I appreciate the warning but you need to understand what we’re up against. We’re trying to install a reliable security system at Anthony’s house, and we’ve had to tear out and upgrade all the electrical wiring to support it. The same drill you went through when you upgraded the store’s system.”

Brady grimaced.

“Yeah. It hasn’t been a small or easy task. So until that’s finished we simply don’t have the men available to protect two people at separate sites.”

But Brady started shaking his head. “We’ve got security here at the store. Can’t we use them?”

“No,” Jim said, “They have their own job to do.”

Layne said, “Anthony, why don’t you step outside for a while? See what you can do to smooth things over?”

He got up while Brady protested, “It’s not that simple. He can’t just—”

“Give him a chance,” Layne said. “Trust me, Brady, none of us wish to upset Emma. But this is the hand we’ve been dealt, so we’ve all got jobs to do, including you. You’re in charge of protecting Emma’s businesses during this investigation. The Bureau’s job is to protect her from the suspect. But none of us can protect Emma and Anthony from each other. That’s something they have to work out for themselves.”

Brady sucked his teeth, took a deep breath, then shot Anthony a glance full of defeat and frustration. “She’s in the guest bath upstairs.”

Anthony left and stood in the hall, thinking about what Brady had just done. Pretty shocking, considering what Emma might do if she found out what Brady had told them.

What did he mean by “a lot going on around here that you don’t understand”? Was it business or personal? Charles had told him Emma was ready to rip the roof of the insurance office to get at the stones they’d helped her acquire. But that would hardly be enough to send someone like Emma over the edge.

Hoping Brady was exaggerating, Anthony headed toward the office steps, and on his way upstairs he gave himself a pep talk. He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then. Not everything was win or lose. There were degrees now, and he had rules.

Rule number one: Keep life simple. That was laughable under the circumstances. Dop aside, Emma was as complicated as it got. Keeping her here wouldn’t be easy because he was already fighting the urge to run rather than tangle with her again.

The woman was flat-out vicious. He hadn’t known how vicious until that night they were supposed to sign the contracts giving him fifty-one percent control over Toliver’s Treasures.

Not for one second had he planned on actually taking the store from her. He may have been jealous of her for who she was and what she had, but he’d never intended to let things go that far. He’d singled her out for one reason and one reason only. The temper. He’d been counting on her to use it. But not the way she had. She was the one who’d made things personal.

When he got to the apartment that night, he found candles, champagne on ice and Emma in a filmy black silk dress that didn’t hide one dang thing. And she’d stroked his ego, thanking him for solving the crisis he’d created.

He should have seen it coming—should have known she’d mercilessly use their powerful attraction against him the same way he’d used it against her. Giving him hungry looks and touching him, whispering things that made his blood roar after ten days of a strict hands-off policy.

She’d ripped his original plan completely off the rails. Made him believe, if only for a few minutes, that he could pull it off. Get what he’d come for, and keep Emma and the store, too.

By the time dinner was over, she’d had him so drunk on his own power, and so beyond ready to rip that dress off with his teeth, he’d never considered he might already be in her temper’s grasp.

Idiot. Just before she’d nuked him, the only thing on his mind was feeling her beneath him, making her surrender everything until his greed for Emma Toliver had been sated.

And nuke him she had. One nanometer away from a kiss and she’d punched him so hard his jaw was sore for weeks afterward.

Then she’d started yelling, things that were carved into his skull to this day. Sadistically awful things, like he destroyed companies to make him feel as powerful as his father.

One ego brutally murdered. Granted, it had needed killing. But for a couple weeks, he’d refused to relive what she’d said. Why should he? Emma hadn’t really known anything about him. She couldn’t understand the pressure he’d been under or the hell his father put him through. She’d been his ticket out of the war with Maxim Bracco, and another casualty had meant nothing to him. Especially a casualty who had a fiercely loyal clientele, a perfect life and a respectable business to run.

She’d made a fool out of him, and since that’s what he’d singled her out to do in the first place, it shouldn’t have hurt quite so much. Somehow those moments where he’d believed he could defeat his father and win Emma had never completely gone away, despite the nuking. And her judgment of him hadn’t been exactly accurate, but she’d been right enough that two years later he still judged himself by it.

Anthony took a deep breath and let it out. Sometimes it floored him to remember the way he’d been. He couldn’t even conceive of that mind-set anymore and he’d spent most of the last year trying to make up for his former life, donating time, money and brain power to the people he’d hurt.

Emma had been a problem, though. He’d had no idea what to do about her. Eventually the guilt goaded him into picking up the phone and the rest was history. Charles had been a godsend. When he’d called about that material auction, it seemed like the perfect solution: a way to make amends without having to see her again.

Face it, pal, he told himself. You’re scared of her. And if that auction comes back to haunt you, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

Which reminded him of rule number two: Never take yourself too seriously. Also laughable. Between Jim and Emma, there wasn’t a slug’s chance in a salt mine he’d be allowed to regrow the ego.

And in light of the reunion with Emma, Anthony wouldn’t even touch his third rule: No women for a while. Now that he’d seen her again, his sacred, final law was dead as a doornail. He might be afraid of her, but she owned him.

Reaching the top of the staircase, Anthony hesitated, finding himself in an office that hadn’t existed two years ago. It wasn’t really a surprise that the business was invading her living space, nor that it was right next door to her bedroom.

Don’t peek. Get your mind right before you go any farther.

Pressing fingertips to his forehead and grimacing, Anthony tried not to look. But he couldn’t help himself. He peeked into her bedroom, and all he could see was that evil black dress.

It took more than one deep breath to clear the image from his mind. The war is over, he told himself. You don’t have to be like your father anymore. You can’t. You learned the hard way. Now be a real man and face the music.

Keeping his eyes out of her bedroom, Anthony moved on down the hall to knock on the bathroom door. “Emma, let me in.”

“Go away.”

“I’m not going away. In fact, I’m pretty certain you’ll have houseguests for the foreseeable future.”

There was no response.

“Are you gonna make me stand out here all day? What if one of your employees comes upstairs?”

That did it. “The door is open, Einstein.”

Anthony drew one more deep breath and turned the knob. Stepping inside to find her slumped on a brocade bench, he said, “My mother did teach me some manners, you know.”

The jade eyes turned on him and for a moment Anthony hardly recognized her. She seemed shrunken. Vulnerable. And white as paper. He’d never seen her this way and he abruptly realized why Brady was so concerned about Emma.

Not until that moment had he ever realized how much he relied on Emma Toliver being evil. It was easier to justify what he’d done to her when he thought of her as a witch.

Blowing out a breath, Anthony leaned against the door and stuck his hands in his pockets. He needed to get her talking, so he said the only thing that came to mind. “Did Jim upset you?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Neither would I, but tell me anyway.”

Emma bit her bottom lip, an action Anthony remembered well. She always did that when trying to control her temper. After a pause, she said, “He told me what happened to you.”

“Jim has a tendency to be blunt. I’m sure the truth isn’t half as bad as what he told you.”

“It doesn’t get much worse than nearly dying, Anthony.”

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t. But you can see for yourself I’m fine. No harm done other than the obvious.”

“How can you be so…”

Emma trailed off and fiddled with the big diamond on her right hand. Feeling relatively safe—safe enough to let his guard down a bit—he soothed, “I’ve had more time to deal with this than you have. Believe me, a week ago I wasn’t quite so flippant.”

Keeping her eyes on the gem, Emma nodded. “You’re moving in?”

“I believe so. We’ve been hopping from one hotel to the next because they’re still installing a security system at my house. Here, everything is contained under one roof, needs-wise.”

“Yes, everything of mine. What happens if you need to work?”

“I don’t work. My former life as a lecherous, corporate-raiding swine was very profitable.”