RIX: Be there in 10. Get your company moving out.
So he knew the cops were here too? How did he know that? Seriously, the things Rix knew were creepy. Had he called in the bomb threat to get the cops out of the gallery?
And you’ve officially picked him over the cops.
I’d made my decision. That much was clear. I had a side, and that side wasn’t the right side of the law.
Rix came in the front door, glass crunching under his feet from the pieces I’d missed with my broom. He didn’t stop to look at the window. He didn’t look at anything but me.
“You okay, duchess?” His hand cupped my face as he stared down at me, his silver eyes soft but his jaw muscle clenched.
I nodded. “Just shaken up, I guess. That was a first for me.”
“My guys are just behind me. We’ll get the window boarded up, and get you out of here.”
“Is that going to be secure enough? Or do I need to move the artwork?”
Rix’s thumb skimmed along my jaw. “No one will touch this place. I’ll have people on it 24/7. No one targets you.”
He dropped his hand and I reached for my phone, the picture of the note on the screen. “What the hell is going on?”
Rix’s gaze dropped to the screen, but before I got an answer as to why her picture was with the brick, two young black men walked up carrying large pieces of plywood.
“Later. I gotta go. Shit’s unfolding and I need to be on top of it. I’ll meet you back at your place in a few hours.”
He turned, and I reached out a hand to grab his arm. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything?”
Rix met my concerned gaze. “There ain’t nothin’ you can do right now to help your girl. I’m the one who’s got a lock on that. Get home. Set your alarm. When I’ve got news, you’ll hear it from me in person.”
I cocked a hip, not altogether sold on Rix’s non-informative decree. “And what if I’m not okay with that?”
One move. That’s all it took for Rix to reach out and yank me against him. “Thought we were on the same page, duchess.”
I pressed both hands to his chest. “I’m starting to wonder if we’re in the same story.”
His silver gaze was determined. Unyielding. Possessive. “There’s only one story. The one where you’re mine, and you chose me. You didn’t say jack shit to the cops, and you cemented that choice. I’m gonna protect you and your girl, but I’ll do it my way.”
In my peripheral vision, I could see the men working on the window. Rix must not care about our audience because he didn’t release me.
“We clear now, duchess?”
I wasn’t used to this level of caveman behavior in any man of my acquaintance, but Rix had been different from the beginning. He didn’t ask permission. I wasn’t even clear on whether he asked forgiveness. He wrote his own rules, and instead of being completely put off by that, I was drawn to it like metal to a magnet. Something in me responded to his constant display of confidence.
How a man could be that sure of everything all the time, I didn’t know. But not having to have all the answers and be expected to make all the decisions . . . it freed a part of me. Yet that didn’t mean I didn’t want to have some say, and it surely didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be kept informed.
I broke the stare with Rix and flicked a glance over his shoulder to the men who were already almost finished boarding up the window.
“We’ve got an audience.”
“Don’t care. Just waiting for one word from you, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay. I get it.” His grip on my arms loosened, and I added, “But I want you to fill me in on everything when you get to my house.”
His fingers flexed, and I could tell he was frustrated with me.
Rix leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear. “You make me want to turn that ass of yours red, duchess.”
A shiver worked down my spine as he pulled away, pressed a hard kiss to my lips, and released me.
Turning, he nodded toward his guys who were packing up their tools. “Let’s go.”
THE DOORBELL RINGING THREW ME off completely. I’d been expecting Rix to magically show up—despite my active alarm—and find me in my studio where I was covered in more paint than I probably should be. But I’d thrown myself into my work so I could try to stop worrying about whatever might be happening with Rix and Trinity. It wasn’t working.
It wouldn’t be my parents. They’d called to invite me to stay in their guest room, and when I’d declined, my father had tried to tell me I needed a bodyguard. That hadn’t gone far, and not only because I couldn’t have a bodyguard because said bodyguard would find out about Rix. And then there was the fact that I didn’t need a bodyguard because I had Rix.