“It’s not the flowers’ fault you’re an ass,” Gabi explained.
She stepped through the home, leaving him to close the door behind him.
He immediately noticed a light on the security panel light up. That’s when he noticed the camera under a dome by the front door. There were other cameras and motion detectors. “Why is this house so heavily monitored?” he asked as he followed her into a kitchen.
Gabi moved about the space, filled a kettle, and placed it on the stove. For some reason, Hunter didn’t see her as a domestic woman, yet walking around the kitchen, she seemed more relaxed than during the drive to and from the courthouse.
“The house belongs to Samantha,” Gabi explained. “Since she married Blake, the house has been occupied by her staff.”
“Women?”
Gabi nodded.
Blake was a good man, he mused. Still, the surveillance felt like more than just a safety measure for a single woman living alone. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the security had something to do with Gabi’s past.
He walked around the small dining area, looked out the back window to the modest backyard. Even there he noticed cameras in the eaves of the house. “Who monitors the system?” he asked.
“Why do you care?”
He let the curtain to the backyard drop and turned to find Gabi watching him, her arms crossed over her chest.
“You don’t have to be hostile, Gabi. It’s a simple question.”
She relented, pushed away from the counter, and opened one of the cupboards. “Blake has a security team.”
“Of course.”
She set a tea bag inside her cup, kept her back to him. The simple black pantsuit was stylish and not at all what Hunter thought she’d wear for their court appearance. Not that he thought she’d wear anything resembling a wedding dress, but black?
It was fitting, he supposed. Her hair, once again, was in a tight knot, making him wonder how long it was and when he might have the opportunity to see it loose.
“When are you going to tell me the real reason you needed to get married in such a hurry?” She removed the kettle from the stove and started to pour.
He wasn’t expecting the question and had no intention of answering it. She’d find out eventually, but he wasn’t prepared to tell her now.
“About the time you reveal the reasons behind all your conditions in our contract.”
She stopped pouring and held perfectly still. “That will never happen,” she told him.
“Then I’ll just have to find out on my own.”
She glanced over her shoulder and scowled. “Why bother? You have what you want. We’re married and will stay that way for the duration of the contract.”
He lifted his chin. “Eighteen months is a long time to keep secrets.”
Gabi set the kettle down and placed both hands on the counter. “Where do we go from here?” she asked, changing the subject.
He glanced at his watch and then removed a folded paper from the inside pocket in his suit. “I have a meeting in New York tomorrow. I’ll be leaving in a few hours.”
She sighed, as if relieved, and twisted around to face him.
“I expect you to begin the search for the home today. If you don’t find something suitable in a week, I’ll find one.”
“Why the hurry?”
“We’re married, Gabi. No one will believe it’s for real if you’re living here and I’m somewhere else in the same city.” He handed her the paper, watched her unfold it. “Phone numbers, addresses. We should be able to keep a lid on our marriage until I return. If something leaks, call me.”
“I’m not one of your employees,” she told him.
He wanted to contradict her, decided against it. “Please.”
She turned the paper toward him, pointed at a number. “What’s this?”
“The code to the parking structure in my building.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “What do you drive?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My car is in the shop.”
“I’ll have one of mine brought here for you.”
Was that a grimace? “My insurance was canceled.”
“Your . . . what?” he asked.
“My auto insurance. It’s a long story.”
Hunter looked at the time. “A long story will have to wait. I’ll fix it, bring you a car.”
Gabi rolled her eyes. “Do you fix everything with money?”
Yeah, he did. “And wives.” Was that a smile? “I’ve got to go.”
She turned away and picked up her cup. “I’d wish you a safe trip, but if your plane goes down, all my worries are over.”
It was his turn to smile.
“Judy?”
Rick called her name from the open door of his office.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come here?”
She pushed away from her drafting desk and the project she was working on outside of the office. The desire to move up the architectural ladder was crying out.