“Please.” He squeezed her hand. “And if you’re not comfortable accepting money from me, then at least take the protection of my name for the next sixty days. I don’t know much about The Headhunters, except that they’ve been around for decades, and I doubt they’ve outlasted their competition by being stupid.” Even though the motorcycle club was a criminal organization, they were also a business. And if Reece knew anything for sure, it was business. “They’re not going to attack a well-known businessman’s wife. Too much risk with not enough payout.”
Shelby said nothing in response until the plane pushed away from the gate and the flight attendants started their safety spiel. She glanced away from him, but not before he saw a glimmer in her eyes, something dangerously close to fear. “I don’t want my past hurting you. I’ve…done a lot of things I’m not proud of.”
“Shelby.” He waited until she lifted her gaze to his. Then he gave her the truth, point-blank. “Wilde Security is not going to survive if I don’t get this contract. We’re operating in the red, and it’s dragging DMW Systems down with it. And I can guarantee my deal with Irving James will not happen if that video or those photos leak. I need your help with this.”
She plucked at the cord of her headphones. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll help, but I’m warning you, it’s going to get messy and chaotic, and I know how much you hate that.” Without another word, she put on her headphones, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the seat, blocking him out.
He sat back and turned his gaze to the window, watched the ground drop out from under them as the plane took flight.
She was right. He did hate mess. He hated chaos. And his life had been nothing but since she flounced into it.
Jesus. He hoped he was making the right call here.
Chapter Ten
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Reece’s apartment was…sterile. It was the only word Shelby could think of when she stepped through the door. He’d done nothing to the plain white walls. His furniture was black leather, and the end tables were all glass and metal and sharp angles. A huge island with a breakfast bar separated the kitchen and living room, and the space off the kitchen meant for a formal dining room was empty. The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room offered breathtaking views of the city, which was about the only thing this apartment had going for it.
She looked as Reece. “It’s cold in here.”
“I’ll turn up the heat.”
“No, not temperature-wise. Just…unloved. It’s not a comfortable space.”
His brow wrinkled and he opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what the fuck she was talking about. She waved a hand, cutting him off before he made a sound. “Never mind. Where am I staying?”
He motioned to the hallway off the living room. “First door on the right. This apartment has top-of-the-line security, so you’re perfectly safe here.”
Maybe physically safe, but emotionally? Oh, she was in so much danger.
Adjusting her grip on Poe’s cage, she followed the instructions and found the bedroom was just as industrial as the rest of the apartment. The bed had no headboard, and there was no other furniture in the room—not even a dresser. But there was a massive walk-in closet and a small en suite with a shower. Good. At least she wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with Reece. That would be way too…intimate.
But if she was going to live here for the next two months, she had to make some changes.
She set down Poe’s cage and took the cover off. His gray feathers were fluffed up; the drive had made him anxious. She reached through the bars and rubbed his head to calm him. Best to give him time to adjust to his new surroundings before letting him out to explore, she decided. Traveling always ruffled his feathers.
As she straightened away from the cage, she spotted a bushy orange tail under the bed and squatted down. Reece’s cat reminded her of Garfield, fat and orange with big green eyes that blinked at her when she held out a hand to him.
“What’s his name?” she asked. Reece had followed her and now loitered just outside the door.
“The Cat.”
She gazed up at him in disbelief. “You didn’t give him a name?”
He shrugged. “It’s the one he came with. Sam the Cat.”
“So he’s Sam?”
“The Cat suits him better.”
She shook her head and peeked under the bed again. “Hi, Sam. You’re going to be a good kitty and not try to eat my bird, right?”
Sam inched out from under the bed until Poe let out a squawk from his cage. The cat’s tail poofed up and he hissed, then scampered between Reece’s legs and disappeared up the hallway.
“Sam the Scaredy-Cat is more like it.” She stood. “Is he always so jumpy?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? He’s your cat.”
“He’s only mine by default,” Reece said and walked away as if they weren’t in the middle of a conversation.