She sat near his bed and tried to turn it on, but it required a password. She tried Nicola’s name, “Ripon,” “I hate Henry.” Nothing worked. She wished she’d taken computer science more seriously. A hacker’s knowledge would come in handy. Frustrated, she placed it back in his closet.
Her heart pounded, and her nerves made her efforts more frantic. Searching the pockets from each of his coats, she found several parking receipts, a pair of tickets to a play in London, and a credit card that said Simon Dunn. She took the card in case she needed to make a quick break for it. She could repay him when she regained access to her funds in Paris.
She had a few more places to search. Reaching behind his headboard, she found a small hidden drawer. Sure enough, he owned a handgun. She pulled it out. It was loaded. Handguns being mostly illegal in the UK, he was either in law enforcement or doing something against the law. From the cavalier way he went through life, she guessed the latter. She wanted to tuck the gun in her waistband. Perhaps she could kill Luc with it, but her intuition told her Simon would miss it. Instead, she emptied out all fifteen rounds of 9mm bullets into her front jeans pocket. Disarming the gun made her feel safer.
She put the gun back and searched around his mattress. The hallway floorboards creaked under the weight of a heavy tread. Pulling the duvet back in place, she dived under the bed. The sound of thumping in her chest muffled the noise in the hall. She tried to calm herself, hoping no one could hear her telltale heart.
The door opened and from the hefty footsteps that entered, she assumed it was Simon. She tried to relax, but her fear made that impossible.
The duvet lifted up, and Simon’s hand reached forward, like the bucket of an excavator, and dragged her body until she was kneeling at his feet.
“Well. Well. Well. Can’t stay away from me? I don’t blame you. Henry is sort of a dry sot at times.” Simon sat on the bed in front of her.
Shit.
“Hmmm?” She yawned. “Simon, please leave my room.”
“This room is mine, as you damn well know. What are you up to? Napping under my bed? Even I don’t think you’re that barmy.” He was holding his phone and glanced between it and Alex’s guilty face.
“Maybe I’m crazy about big stupid men with huge muscles.” She reached for him, but he backed away.
Mr. Happy actually glowered at her. “Stupid?”
He was definitely not stupid. If only he was.
“No real job. Can’t afford your own place. Relying on Henry to finance your life. And then you go and try to sleep with his fiancée. Nice friend. ”
“So you think Henry would take your word over mine?”
“We are getting married, after all.”
The door opened and Henry stepped in. “Blood is thicker than water, Sunshine.”
“Blood?” What did blood have to do with this?
Henry nodded. “Simon’s my brother.”
Henry’s brother? That didn’t make sense. “He’s a spare?”
Simon smiled again, making the world almost right itself. “No. The bastard son of his father. And he’s my baby brother. I’m nobody’s spare.”
That made sense.
“Are you done searching his room?” Henry asked.
“Why would you think I searched his room?”
Simon stood and handed her his phone. “The cameras.” His screen displayed a great color video of her rummaging through his drawers.
She scanned the room and couldn’t locate one camera. She hadn’t seen any security around Henry’s rare and expensive works of art, but they used cameras in Simon’s disaster of a bedroom. It didn’t make sense, but she wasn’t going to argue the point.
Henry became a bit more agitated as Simon cooled down. “You went through his drawers, under his bed, into his closet, sat on the floor playing with his computer, and then found his handgun.” They never mentioned his credit card. No camera in the closet?
Simon took out the gun, checked it, and reached into her pocket for the bullets. Luckily, the jeans had a loose fit. His hand wouldn’t have fit into them otherwise.
“Do you have a license to carry that?” Alex asked.
Simon took hold of her chin. “Do not ever touch my gun. Is that clear?” He slipped it into the back of his pants. “I’ll be downstairs. Next time you snoop through my things, pick the clothes up as you go, so I benefit as well.” He left Alex alone with a constipated-looking Henry.
“I think I’ll go take a shower.” She tried to walk by him, but he blocked her path.
Henry shook his head like an exasperated parent. “I need to trust you, Gabe. You obviously don’t trust us, which considering your need to run and hide from a mystery man, I sort of understand. But I need to trust you. Otherwise, I’d rather go it alone.”
“Simon doesn’t trust me. He never did.”
“You smashed things in my house, live under an alias, stole a bike, made a pass at him in front of his brother, and rummaged through his belongings. Why should he trust you?”
“He probably shouldn’t.”
Henry stepped closer and brushed a blond wisp away from the front of her eye. “I believe in you, although you’re seriously pushing my limits. I find you intelligent, classy, full of life, and a breath of fresh air. You’re even in possession of a family heirloom I can’t afford to lose. And yet I don’t know how to gain your trust.”
“Every time I trust someone, they either let me down or die.”
He wrapped his arms around her. They felt safe. “I’d never hurt you, and I promise to avoid death at all costs. By the way, you looked ridiculously uncomfortable trying to seduce Simon, so I’m assuming you still like me, but you’re trying to push me away. Don’t.”
Henry pulled her into a deep kiss, powerful enough to knock her off her axis.
“You’re not mad at me?” she whispered as they came up for air.
His chin rested on her head, and his arms tightened around her shoulders. “Disappointed you went through Simon’s things. Jealous as hell when you rubbed your body against his. But never mad at you.”