Fall into Me (Heart of Stone #2)(27)
Author: K.M. Scott

But she hadn’t been hurt, and now that the bodyguards were always around, I didn’t expect Jensen, a man in his fifties, to do the work of younger men.

"She wasn’t hurt, so we’re fine. In truth, the bodyguards I hired are there to protect her more than you are. I still expect you to keep your eyes open for anything suspicious, however, so letting her give you the slip today is a problem."

He hung his head. "I know. I shouldn’t have listened to her when she said she was meeting her friend to go shopping. I’m truly sorry, Mr. Stone."

As furious as I was, it wasn’t directed at my driver. He was merely someone caught in the middle, and there was no point reaming him out. Reaching out, I patted him on the shoulder. "It’s fine, Jensen. No harm, no foul. Just don’t let it happen again. I rely on you."

He looked up at me with tired eyes and nodded as relief began to wash over him. "Thank you."

"Where are West and Varo? I want to talk to them too," I asked as I looked around for any sign of them.

"I believe they’re around back. They arrived right after we did."

"Okay, relax, Jensen. If Nina and I go out tonight, I’ll be driving, so unless something changes, you have the night off."

I followed the brick pathway around the back of the house and across the property to find the bodyguards and hear what they knew about Nina’s afternoon adventure. Both men stood near the carriage house where they stayed after my firing of the gardener. Large and bulky, they were exactly what I wanted in the people protecting Nina. They had a bouncer look to them, but as long as they did their job, I didn’t care what they looked like.

They stood talking to one another, and a twinge of embarrassment pinched at me as I thought about what I needed to ask them. I suddenly felt like a goddamned fool.

"Gentlemen, I want a report of what happened today."

I spoke with as little emotion as possible, hoping for a matter-of-fact tone to hide the anger and jealousy that continued to churn in my gut. It was bad enough that I knew Nina had gone to see her ex. Having to hear these two tell me the details of it was nothing short of painful.

West was the more talkative one, so he spoke up first. "Miss Edwards left Macy’s by a different door than the one she entered through and walked four blocks to an office building on West 39th. She entered the building and rode up to the fifteenth floor to the Peak International offices, an insurance company. She met with a man named Cal Johnson for about twenty minutes and left, returning to the car to ride home."

Talkative for West meant doing the Joe Friday thing—just the facts and little else. He even had that uptight cop look. I was going to have to ask for details.

"Did she look like she’d been harmed? You better hope the answer is no, gentlemen."

Varo, the younger of the two men, shook his head silently, his piercing dark blue eyes staring at me as if he knew what I was getting at, as West continued his report. "She looked the same as when she entered the building, sir. Hair and dress were exactly the same. In addition, she didn’t look upset. She looked just as she always does."

"And the person she met with?" I asked with my heart in my throat.

"Average height and athletic build. Brown hair and neither of us noticed the eye color. He seems to be some kind of insurance salesman."

"Did she see you following her?"

Both men shook their heads, and Varo answered for the first time. "She never sees us. She’s not looking for us, so we’re not seen."

Nothing in what they’d said should have added to my unhappiness with the whole situation, but their answers hadn’t helped me feel better either. I waved them away as I walked toward the house to face the final person in this whole affair.

Unfortunately, Rogers was waiting in the foyer, yet another person I had to deal with before I got to Nina. I was definitely not in the mood for his thoughts on my love life at that moment, but his expression looked almost pleasant.

"What do you want, Rogers? I’m in a hurry."

"Just to ask if dinner was to be served at the usual time."

"No. Nina and I are going out."

Rogers nodded slowly. "As you wish."

Behind him on the table in the center of the foyer lay an envelope. It was the same kind I used for her letters and had my name written on the front of it.

"Where is Nina?"

"In her room, I believe."

My hands shook at the thought of what she may have written in the letter. Was this her way of breaking the news to me that she and Cal were back together? Just the idea made me feel empty, like I’d lost everything important to me. Snatching the note from the table, I left Rogers standing there with his semi-smiling face and hurried to my room.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, the note still in my hand. Every time I’d written to her had been to express something I couldn’t say to her face—something that was dear to me but I couldn’t get out in person. Was it the same for her this time? She’d never shied away from telling me exactly how she felt, so why begin now?

All these questions raced through my mind as I looked down at that white envelope with her handwriting on it.

I wasn’t letting her go. It didn’t matter what the letter said. I wasn’t giving Nina up. Cal couldn’t have her back. He didn’t deserve her. I didn’t even know what he’d done, but I knew he didn’t deserve her. Maybe I didn’t deserve her either, but at least I loved her. I loved her and I wasn’t going to give up on her.

The envelope wasn’t sealed and the flap lifted easily, so I slid the letter out and unfolded it. The paper felt heavy in my hands, as if it was a two ton weight I was holding. My eyes focused on the first words, and I began to read.

Dear Tristan,

I didn’t think it was fair that you had no letters from me, so I chose this way to say what I have to say. I realized today that even if I knew nothing about you except what I’ve come to know in the weeks since meeting you in the hospital, I’d know that I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I can’t wait to go to our favorite restaurant tonight!

                                                             Yours,

                                                             Nina