I had real work to do.
I was going through my case files, doing follow up on some cases that needed further attention, when there was a knock at my door. "Come in."
Amber, my executive assistant, poked her head in. Her sharply cut bob swayed along her jaw, her too dark tresses a stark contrast to her pale, nearly translucent skin and vibrant red lipstick. "Hello, Emma. Just going to pop this in here for you. You had a delivery." She placed a massive bouquet of pink-tipped roses on my desk.
I frowned. "Do you know who they’re from?"
She shook her head, but the way she grinned at me told me something was amiss. Had Bridge already responded? I'd only sent the image an hour ago.
I stood and rounded my desk and quickly cleared a spot for them. "Jesus."
She laughed. "I know. There's a card in it, and the delivery guy, Frank, said it was from the florist in Mayfair. Go on. Who's it from?"
My phone chimed then. A quick glance told me it was my husband.
Bridge: Someone’s been a naughty girl and a good girl all at the same time.
I flushed and texted him back immediately.
Emma: What are you going to do about it? Also, thank you.
He must have worked hard to get those flowers ordered. They were a tame present considering what I’d sent him, and not the direction I’d thought he would go. But still, I loved them.
The card was a hard, thick card stock in an envelope. Inside, the card read, I am more excited than you can guess that we're a team now. My stomach flipped. I would never admit it to him, but I loved when he was arrogant and slightly domineering. I would never respect someone I could run circles around. But I loved when he was sweet like this too. It activated all the gushy love centers in my brain.
I couldn't help but smile. "You know that moment when men who are a pain in the arse suddenly turn super sweet and it just melts you?"
Amber laughed. "Yes, all the time with my boyfriend. Sometimes I can be a complete stropping cow. And then I'll go home and find that he's ordered a curry and my favorite movies and all that stuff. Happens all the time."
I sighed contentedly as I pulled out my phone to call him. I needed to say thank you properly. There was another knock at Amber's outer office, and she ran out.
And before I could get to my contacts to call him, she was back. "Um, there's a letter for you."
I glanced up and took it from her. "Thank you. There's no address. Was it hand-delivered?"
She nodded. "Courier service."
All it had was my name on it. Another piece of thick card stock with handwriting I didn't recognize.
The flowers aren't from who you think they are. They're also bugged. You're being watched. Heed the warning. Know that everything is connected. From the very beginning, everything has always been connected, all the past from the Elite, all the futures of the Elite. Every single person is connected.
I lifted my head. "Can you run and ask the courier where the delivery came from?"
"I already asked. He said the courier service was paid in cash."
I cursed under my breath. Who was sending me these notes? It had to be someone who knew Middleton well. It made me stare at the flowers even harder.
When Amber went back to her office and closed the door behind her, I stood and stared down at the flowers that were almost too gorgeous to touch. And then I proceeded to inspect every inch of them. When I looked underneath the vase and saw a small flat disk tucked into it, I knew the note was right. I was being watched. Someone was listening.
And I knew exactly who it was.
Twenty
Bridge
Emma was a minx.
Did anyone say minx anymore? Who the fuck knew, but that photo she’d sent me, right in the middle of my Dubai meeting no less, made me spit out the coffee I’d been drinking and turn my phone right the fuck over. I’d had to sit through the rest of that meeting with a hard cock. More than a little… distracting.
And when I had a private moment, I’d text her to let her know just how much trouble she was in. I might have to show her in the car.
When I arrived at Middleton Communications to pick up Emma, I found her in her office surrounded by an enormous bouquet of roses. Fucking hell, had Middleton sent them?
Down the hall, I saw Alex and gave him a head nod. He nodded back but didn't come and speak to me. He'd already given me his report. There had been a flurry of activity in Middleton's office, making plans for something. Deliveries for Emma. I'd have to ask Emma about it. Her assistant stood immediately. "Oh, Mr. Edgerton, your wife's not ready yet."
I nodded. "Ah yes, well, she rarely ever is." Had she put her knickers back on? Was she planning on torturing me through lunch?
Fuck I hope so, came the plea from my dick.
I shared a conspiratorial laugh with her assistant as if Ha-ha, Emma’s always late was our little secret joke.
But she was rarely late. Impetuous yes, but anyone who actually knew her would know that was bullshit.
She was on the phone in her office, and she waved me in. My eyes went to the enormous vase of pink and white roses immediately.
She hung up the phone and gave me a nod. "Nice, aren't they?"
I nodded. "Who the hell—"
She shook her head and then grabbed her purse before tugging me outside.
I slowed her down. "Oh no, you don't. I get kisses first. You owe me a kiss for teasing me. I’ve been a good boy." I leaned down, sliding my hands into her hair and clutching her at the nape of her neck, pinning her in position as I kissed her deep, my tongue sliding over hers. Her flavor instantly enraptured me. That little whimper she made at the back of her throat spurred me on.
Emma had my number. She knew she had my number.
I released her to find her assistant grinning like a loon in the doorway. "Oh my God, I hope when I get married my husband treats me exactly like this. Swimming in kisses every day."
"Amber, I’m just heading to lunch," Emma said quietly.
She laughed. "Oh yes, lunch. Of course."
Emma flushed. "No, seriously, I mean lunch."
Amber, or whatever the hell her name was, winked. "Don't worry, I'll hold down the fort. I'll water these pretty flowers for you."
"I'm pretty sure they don't need watering."
"Uh-huh, sure they don't." Amber just chuckled, and Emma dragged me out, her hand tucked in mine. She was definitely tugging me forward. What was on her mind? When we were in the elevator, I tried to speak, but she planted a hand over my mouth. And on tiptoes, she nuzzled into me, her lips whispering against my skin, sending a shudder down my spine. "We're being watched and recorded."
I whispered back, “I know. And we have bigger fish to fry. Starting with your note giver. How do they know about the flowers?"
"No bloody idea. I'm just here trying to survive, literally. So, if you have any ideas, please tell me. I'm scared."
When the elevator stopped, I took her hand and led her to the car. I wanted to show her that it didn't matter, that I would protect her. I scanned her expression carefully. "Okay, so if you're being watched, it means Middleton is up to something. And if he's up to something, it means we can exploit that."