Devon said he loved her. She was pretty sure she loved him, and the thought made her smile in spite of her anger at Vincent. In spite of her fears for Xavier.
Love. It had snuck up and wrapped around her.
Having the two men meet right now would only tangle the issues further, but she wasn’t about to make the same mistake she’d made the first time Vincent had frightened her.
She dressed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Devon’s arm gently. “Hey, wake up. I need to talk to you.”
His eyelids fluttered open, his gaze sharpening as he rolled to a sitting position. “Xavier?”
She shook her head. “No news yet. I got another e-mail from Vincent, and I’m ready to kick his fine-suited ass back to Toronto.”
All the sleep haze vanished. “What did he do now?”
“More of the same. Sent me a stupid engagement announcement, as if he’s planning on handing it out to the media. I’ve had enough of the asshole jerking me around, Devon. I’m going to talk to him and tell him he can shove his threats up his ass. He can make any bloody announcement he wants—I’ll deny it, and that’s it.”
Devon held her hands to stop her from flailing them in the air. “What about your dad? The company?”
“Nothing. I don’t care.” She took a deep breath and calmed herself, slipping one hand free to cup his face. “You said it last night. Focus on what’s important—the people who are important. I’ll call my father and give him a warning, but beyond that I don’t owe any of them anything.”
“I’ll come with you,” Devon said.
She pressed her fingers over his mouth, gently stroking his lips. “I’ll meet him in the lobby, or somewhere public, but I want to do this by myself.” His face tightened, and she frowned. “I mean it. I’m not being stupid, but I don’t want you to come with me and have this end up some kind of public brawl.”
“You don’t trust me to keep my temper?”
Alisha growled in frustration. “I don’t trust Vincent not to take the first swing, then find a way to pin it on you. Please, stay here. I’ll be back within the hour.”
She kissed him before he could protest again. He crushed her closer, his hands curling possessively around her lower back before setting her free.
“I don’t like it,” he complained.
Alisha backed away, letting his hands slip from hers. “I know, but thank you for letting me do this my way. I’ll call you if there’s any trouble. I promise.”
She tried Marcus’s number, but his phone went to messages. The rest of the short trip she fretted about Xavier and planned her approach with Vincent. More diplomacy was required than storming up to him and hitting him on the head with a large, blunt object.
She phoned him from the courtesy phone in the lobby. “I’m here.”
“You know my suite number.” Vincent spoke in clipped tones. “Stop wasting my time, and get up here.”
Bullshit on that. “I’m not going into your suite alone.”
He made a rude noise. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not one bit. If you want to talk, it’s in public.”
“You risk the media discovering us before we make the announcement official,” he pointed out.
Her anger shot higher. “I will not meet with you alone, Vincent.”
“Very well. Wait for me in the foyer.”
“No. I’ll be outside the teahouse restaurant.” She wanted some semblance of control headed into this façade. Besides, people passed that location regularly, but the chairs were far enough aside to allow a private conversation.
She might want witnesses, but she didn’t want to be overheard.
Waiting in the elegant setting made her skin itch. Devon texted her, but she ignored it, not ready to answer him while she still had to face Vincent. Her brain ached. Her heart was equally filled with hope from her time with Devon and her fears for Xavier. With so much uncertainty before them, both good and bad, the only undeniable point was that this ongoing stupidity with Vincent had to stop.
He strolled in, suited and groomed to the nines, and she took a sadistic pleasure in having pulled on her rattiest pair of jeans, most holey runners, and an old coat of Devon’s.
Alisha held up her phone with the link to the engagement announcement. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
Vincent was so smooth and calm she wanted to shake him. Or kick him, or do something physically painful and devastating. But he sat there like some untouchable statue, examining her with disdain. None of the façade of attraction he’d attempted during that first dinner meeting.
“It’s no joke. You will return to Toronto with me. I need to return, and there is no cause for you to remain any longer.”
“You’re being an idiot, Vincent. I have a job, I have—”
“Yes, your job.” Vincent leaned back and assessed her again, the fancy chandeliers around them reflecting flashes of light in his dark eyes. “How is Xavier?”
Alisha went cold through and through. Had there already been a news report about the accident? She didn’t think so. “How did you know he’s been hurt?”
“You were warned.” Vincent ignored her question, ignored her, instead meticulously straightening the cuffs of his suit jacket to lie smoothly. “Search and rescue is a dangerous line of work. Such a terrible thing that accidents can happen in the blink of an eye.”
She went to stand, but he shot forward, catching her hands and holding her in place. He tugged her to a sitting position and leaned in closer.
“Ropes failing at the wrong moment. Could happen to anyone, couldn’t it?” he asked.
How could someone who appeared so sophisticated sound so menacing? Alisha glanced around, but the nearest people were too far away to hear his words or see anything other than a couple holding hands. Perhaps having a lovers’ quarrel.
God, she wished Devon were with her.
Vincent didn’t allow her to speak, instead sending her a hard-edged smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Or maybe the next terrible accident won’t be on the job. Your pilot—Erin, correct? Such a lovely woman. She lives alone. She should be more diligent in locking her doors.”
This wasn’t making sense. “You’re threatening my Lifeline teammates if I don’t marry you?”
Vincent lowered his voice and darkness rasped over her eardrums, setting her hair on end. “I allowed you to make the right decision on your own, and you chose to ignore me. I’ve had enough, Alisha. Your time here is done.”
She struggled to make sense of what seemed total nonsense. “Are you claiming you caused Xavier’s accident?”
“Don’t be stupid. How could I cause an accident?” His gaze tightened, his pressure on her fingers increasing to the point of pain. “I’m a businessman, not a petty thief. Not a person willing to accept money to place drugs in someone’s cup. Not a desperate creature willing to damage a sturdy harness in strategic places.”
The blood drained from her head, leaving an eerie echo in her ears. “Vincent—”
“I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand, Alisha. You. Your stubborn resistance is the reason that until you cooperate, I’ll find ways to encourage you to come to your senses. Perhaps that sweet Jonah—he’s a friend of Tripp’s, isn’t he? He shouldn’t walk to work at the school over the next while. I’d hate to have a car lose control near him and cause another tragedy.”
Her chest was so tight she couldn’t breathe. He knew her teammate’s names, their friends, what they did for a living. What had begun as a meeting full of frustration and anger at his idiotic refusal to leave her in peace had turned into a nightmare.