Maiden and the Lion (3 page)

Alex turned around. The door she had mentioned was clinging on one sorry-looking hinge. He cringed. “Don’t remember doing that. I went to meet someone. Got shot. Fell into a river. Went lion.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”

Cat’s eyebrow arched. “I want to ask if you’re okay…” Her gaze slid to the scar on his right shoulder. After what had happened in Africa a few months ago, nothing seemed to surprise her at this point. His work as a CSO for the firm had him skating around danger often. “I assume you’re okay. Was it top secret?” she asked.

Of course it was top secret. The blackmails. The threat. Bea. He wanted to sort out one thing at a time. The firm was worth billions. Some miscreants always looked for a way to profit from them. It was his responsibility to weed out those scumbags. His job. Ren’s job was to make the company more profitable. Gabe’s was to run the ship.
Was.
Gabe had talked about making him the CEO so he could spend more time with Cat to start a family. “For now, yes. Where’s Gabe?”

“He has a meeting with the lawyers. Company business. Did you get shot on behalf of company business, too?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Cat.”

“Hey, my nickname is Kitty. It’s my nature to be curious.”

“Stay out of this one.”

“Uh-oh. Sure.”

“I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Geez, mister, have you got a bug in your ass?”

“No. You tend to nose around where you don’t belong. I just don’t want to rescue you from a trunk of car. Again.”

Her lips tightened. Ever since he’d known her—the past few months—Cat had shown she had knack of being kidnapped or ending up in a foreign country. She wriggled her hand exasperatedly.

“Fine. I thought as your sister-in-law, I’m entitled to know what happened to you after I found you naked in my office. You know, family bond thing? Since I married your brother?”

“All I can say right now is that I’m doing damage control.” Alex wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “I need to borrow your car.”

Cat reached into her purse and fished out her keys. “That must be one hell of a damage control.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“You know, since you don’t have your wallet with you, technically, you’ll be driving without your licence. And that would be illegal. Maybe I should take you home and…”

“No. I don’t think so. Stay put, Cat.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Don’t call Gabe about this. I’m going to tell him myself.” Alex snatched the keys from her hand and got up.

“Fine. You owe me the door.”

“Send me the bill.”

“It’s going to cost you an arm and a leg.”

“Let my accountant worry about it.”

“I hate your accountant.”

Alex snorted a laugh as he walked past the ruined door. He cocked a finger in her direction one more time. “Like I said, stay put.”

Chapter Two

Her boss hadn’t gone to work today.

Bea had tried his cell phone, several times, but it had gone straight to voicemail. She had asked Ms Krueger if she knew why he was absent and Ms Krueger had said Mr Larousse was simply indisposed at the moment. Bea should reschedule all Alex’s meetings until further notice.

Alex was in trouble. She knew it. Her boss had never gone away without informing her where he would be and what he would be doing. He was a stickler for his appointments. What had happened last night wasn’t only her imagination. She had proof. Alexandre Larousse could shift into a lion, absurd as it sounded. And someone had shot him.

Was he hurt?

Not knowing if he was okay was driving her nuts. She couldn’t concentrate at work. Every ten minutes she itched to dial his cell phone, hoping he would pick it up. Did Gabriel and Renaud even know their brother had been shot? She knew Renaud was in London right now and Gabriel was in some kind of important meeting where he couldn’t be bothered even if an earthquake shook the entire city. Ms Krueger had said so. Bea wondered if Ms Krueger knew the very nature of her boss.

Since she had left her father’s house, Bea preferred to stay late in the office where she could surf the Internet and use the break room for free coffee and snacks. Today, she couldn’t wait to get out of work fast enough.

* * * *

In her van, Bea took out Alex’s wallet from her purse and stared at it for a while, thinking about what she should do.

It just didn’t make sense. Her boss had got shot and had missed work and nobody had seemed to miss him. Well, she’d missed him. Arrogant jerk as he was. He never said thank you, was snappish and always glowered at her. Even when she didn’t do anything wrong. Granted, she had only been working for him less than a month and she hadn’t absorbed the dynamic pace under his direct supervision, but she felt she didn’t do that bad a job. He’d hired her to screen his calls, take care of his mail and bring him coffee every morning. It wasn’t a brain surgeon’s gig. Still, it made her wonder why on earth she’d got the job in the first place if he didn’t like her.

Bea wanted to
not
like him.

She couldn’t. She’d had the hots for him ever since she had met him that day. Her crush had got worse after she had become his receptionist. Pathetic, indeed. Alex was a rich man. Educated. Very good-looking. And ten years older than her. Meanwhile, she was broke. College dropout and now homeless. He was so far out of her league, but Bea couldn’t help it. Each time they locked gaze, she wanted to melt under his sharp stare. Whenever he talked in his deep, authoritative voice, her body shimmered with need. The man possessed a certain animalistic power that drew her to him. God only knew how many other women had fallen for him. Half the city, perhaps. Maybe she was nothing but his fan girl. She could live with that. She shouldn’t be ashamed. Alexandre Larousse was really something.

But now, he was in trouble.

She opened Alex’s wallet and pulled out his driver’s licence. Her heart gave a quick stir. Even in his DMV photo Alex looked good. Copper hair. Lush eyebrows. Intelligent eyes. They were an unusual shade of amber. Feline amber. Like when he was a lion. His expression was as serious as ever.

Her gaze darted to the address beside the photo. The building Alex lived in was only five blocks away from the office. And she had heard from Ms Krueger that he lived on the sixtieth floor or something.

Hmm.

Technically, she had a solid reason to visit him at home to return his wallet. He might need it. All of his important IDs were in it. He couldn’t drive around without his licence. Or buy stuff without his credit cards. What if he needed to go to the hospital from the gunshot wound he’d suffered? He would need his Blue Cross insurance card.

Bea tucked Alex’s driver’s licence back into the wallet and shoved the whole thing into her purse. That was it. She decided to give Alex a visit. He might be at home and sick. And she simply needed to know what had happened to him.

She started the engine then drove out of the parking lot.

It took her fifteen minutes to get into Alex’s building. Bea’s hand trembled as she emerged from the parking elevator to the grand lobby. The place was a mix between commercial and residential. There were cafés, restaurants and gift shops on the ground base. Offices and a boutique hotel were on the upper levels. She sauntered across the atrium as if she belonged in the place and headed into another elevator near to the reception area. The elevator from the basement lot didn’t reach the sixtieth floor.

The elevator door closed. Bea was secretly glad she was wearing her best business suit. Her other clothes needed cleaning and she had reserved this one for special occasions. She didn’t feel she stuck out like a sore thumb among the people in this building. The black pantsuit with the pink silk blouse she was wearing had cost her a week’s wage. And a pair of black, four-inch-heel pumps that she’d got on sale in J.C. Penney made her taller than her five-foot-three-inch frame. She looked proper. Like a low-paid administrative employee. The truth wasn’t far from that.

She clutched her cheap, imitation leather purse, feeling self-conscious when her gaze drifted to the businesswoman who was standing next to her. Her handbag was genuine Birkin. How nice. It would probably cost a year of her salary. Bea directed her gaze down and studied the tips of her shoes as the elevator brought her to Alex’s floor.

Bea didn’t know that the sixtieth floor was a private storey. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she was greeted by the view of a large, marble-plastered reception room that was manned with men packing guns. They weren’t typical building guards in uniform. These men were dressed in impeccable suits, their weapons bulging from under their jackets. She stepped out with uncertainty. One of the security men spotted her. He slipped out from his desk, holding some kind of metal wand. It was a portable metal detector, the same as the ones they used in the federal buildings. The device beeped at her purse. Before she knew it, the man had her surrendering her bag. He checked the contents before he even said a word. Nothing alarming. Her set of keys had made the metal detector whine. Another guy flawlessly gave her a pat down.

Jesus on Crackpot.
She wouldn’t have guessed the security in her boss’ floor would be tighter than the airport.

“Your name?” the first guy demanded.

“Beatrice Summer. I’m Mr Alex Larousse’s receptionist.”

“Let me see some ID.”

Bea snatched her wallet from the upturned contents of her purse. “Here.” She showed him her driver’s licence.

The guy seemed satisfied. “What’s the purpose of your visit?”

“Work related.”

He shot her a laser beam kind of look.

“It’s an important message that I must give Mr Larousse in person.” If she’d said she was going to return Alex’s wallet, the man would have demanded it instantly. And she would have no reason to meet Alex.

The man checked his computer screen. “Mr Alex Larousse isn’t in his apartment at present. Try later.”

“Do you know when he’ll be home?”

“No, I don’t. Do you want to leave a message?”

She pondered. “I think I’ll try his cell again.”

The man helped her put back the contents of her purse. Bea shouldered it cautiously and threw him a weak smile. He didn’t return it. His face was stony.

“Thank you.” Bea said it anyway just to be polite.

He didn’t respond.

What an ass.

The elevator door opened. Gabriel Larousse and several men stepped out. Mr Cold Security Guy snapped straight at the sight of his boss. “Good evening, sir,” he greeted. His tone changed. Totally kiss-ass mode.

Bea mumbled the same. She had seen Gabriel Larousse several times in Alex’s office. He was nice and friendlier than her own boss. He looked just like Alex, handsome and authoritative, only he was a couple of years older. He had recently married a detective called Cat Kovac. The wedding had caused the whole office to buzz for weeks.

Gabriel noticed her standing awkwardly next to Mr Cold. His lush eyebrow arched an inch. “Bea, right? What are you doing here?”

She couldn’t help herself, blurting out, “Mr Larousse, may I have a word with you in private?” Bea wanted to kick herself afterwards. Was this wise? Well, too late for bail out anyway.

Gabriel conversed in a hushed voice with the gentlemen he’d come with. They looked the lawyer type. Brooks Brothers suits. Expensive haircuts. Leather briefcases. Unbearably smug faces. The men headed to the left hall, accompanied by the security guy who had given her a pat-down.

Gabriel spread a hand towards the door next to the reception desk. “Please.”

It turned out to be an elegant conference room with a large oval table in the middle and plush leather chairs circling it. There was a fax machine and a copier against one wall, and a laptop perched on the credenza.

Gabriel closed the door behind him. “Have a seat, Bea. What’s it all about?”

Bea sat gingerly. Her purse was on her lap, she gripped the strap tightly. “It’s about my boss.”

Gabriel pulled a chair next to her. “What about Alex?”

“I’m…” Bea paused. “I’m worried about him.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, searching her face. Then a faint smile hovered on the corner of his lips. “Are you seeing him?”

Seeing? Yes, she saw him every day at the office.
Oh
. It took Bea several more seconds to realise what Gabriel had meant. “No, no,” she said quickly. She blushed. “Not like that. He’s my boss.”

Gabriel’s smile turned into what seemed to be full-blown amusement.

“Mr Larousse didn’t come to work today. Ms Krueger said he was indisposed. I tried to call Mr Larousse’s cell…”

“Just call him Alex.”

Bea gulped. “Alex.” Didn’t sound very polite but whatever. “I tried to call Alex’s cell, but it always went to voicemail.”

“And you’re worried he might be sick?”

Gabriel didn’t try to cover the fact he was smiling broadly. Bea had a feeling Gabriel knew she had a crush on his brother.

“I know he’s not well.”

“Oh?” Gabriel looked very interested. “How?”

“I met him last night.”

“So, you are seeing him.”

“No. Yes. Not in that way.” A sliver of frustration crept into the base of her skull. “Mr Larousse, last night I saw a man being shot from the bridge. He fell into the river. I swam and pulled him out of the water. It was Alex.”

The smile instantly vanished from Gabriel’s face. “Alex has been shot?”

So, Gabriel didn’t know. “Yes. On his chest. He forbade me from calling nine-one-one. He told me to drive him home. I got him into my van. But when I tried to stop his bleeding, he sort of ran away…”

“What do you mean, ran away?”

“Uhm. Mr Larousse, I’m not crazy, but Alex turned into…” Bea scratched her head even though she wasn’t itchy. “A lion,” she finished in a small voice. “I’m not crazy, am I?”

Suddenly, Gabriel became all business. He seized her hand and shook it in a firm grip. “I appreciate you telling me all this, Bea. It’s best if you go home now.”

“But what about…”

“I’ll handle this matter.” His tone was firm. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be argued with.