What He Seeks (What He Wants, Book Twenty) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (4 page)

“I don’t want to stay here. If I stay here, all I’m going to be
doing
is thinking about school and the case and...” I couldn’t bring myself to say his name. My hand tightened around the blanket under me, twisting the fabric hard between my fingers.

He sighed. “It’s not safe.”

“Oh, and I’m safe here?” I countered.

“Yes.” He nodded. “There will be a guard stationed outside the apartment, and three more outside of the building.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to stay here with guards watching me, Noah. I want to go with you. I feel safer with you.” It was true. Yes, I wanted to go with him, and I knew there was a chance that me telling him I felt safer going with him would change his mind.

But it was also true – I
did
feel safer with him.

How could I feel safe here with just some guard who I’d never even met before?

“Then I’ll stay here. I’ll send someone else to go talk to Bella.”

“No!” My hand was twisting the blanket so hard now that I could feel my nails digging into my palms through the fabric. “Don’t you understand? If we do that, then Professor Worthington’s won. He
wants
us to be nervous, he wants us to be scared.”

I reached out and took Noah’s face in my hands.

He closed his eyes and I leaned my forehead against his.

His lips met mine, a soft, sensuous kiss that stoked a hot liquid flame deep in my belly as his stubble brushed against my chin.

“Charlotte,” he said gruffly when he pulled away. “Please understand. I cannot put you in harm’s way.”

“I won’t be in harm’s way. I’ll be with you.” He started to speak, but I cut him off. “Please, Noah. I don’t want to be a prisoner to Professor Worthington.
Please.”

His hand rested on my upper arm, his grip tightening as he struggled with his desire to keep me safe and his desire to keep me happy, the two of them battling as I held my breath to see which one would emerge the victor. “Fine,” he said finally. “But you will not speak. You will not
move
unless I tell you to. Do you understand me?”

“Promise,” I said, and put my hand over my heart.

“I am not kidding, Charlotte.”

“Me neither,” I said, and I was kicking the covers off and running to get dressed.

T
wo hours later
, Noah and I pulled up in front of a The Sunsplash Diner in Queens. The sign outside was a faded turquoise, with the name of the restaurant spelled out in a swirly script and a palm tree in the center of it. A group of men huddled on the corner of the street, their arms thick with tattoos. A homeless man dressed in a tattered flannel shirt rushed to Noah’s car. He was holding a squeegee and a bucket, and he began to wash the windshield, until Noah rolled down the window and handed him a hundred dollar bill.

The man’s eyes widened, and he shoved it in his pocket and scampered off.

Noah checked the rearview mirror, watching the group of men on the corner. “You stay close to me,” he said. “And do not talk to anyone.”

“Okay.” Suddenly the sound of barking pierced the air and the whole car shook as something pushed against my window. I jumped and leaned toward Noah, pushing my upper body into his. I turned back to see a black dog, his paws up against the window, barking at me maniacally.

A man tugged on his leash and pulled the dog down street, smiling at me as he went, his eyes dead with the look of someone who was coming down from a bad trip. My heart galloped in my chest.

“You okay?” Noah asked, as I slowly disentangled myself from his arms.

“Yes.

“Charlotte,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“If you want me to take you home, just say the word.”

“No. I’m okay.”

He looked at me. “No one is going to hurt you, do you understand me?”

“Because you have the strength of three burly men?” I asked, only half joking.

“No. Because I have the strength of four burly men.”

I laughed as he got out and walked around to my side of the car, opening the door and helping me out.

“Stay close to me,” he commanded, taking my hand and leading me up the sidewalk toward the diner.

He went in first and I followed him, the bell on the door tinkling as the scent of home fries and fresh coffee hit my nose.

“You can have a seat anywhere,” the dark-haired girl behind the register said to us absentmindedly, glancing up at us briefly as she totaled receipts by hand. “If there aren’t any free seats, just put your name on the list.”

Noah and I found a booth at the front of the restaurant against the plate glass windows, the only empty seat in the whole place.

“This place must be popular,” I remarked as Noah pulled menus from behind the container of condiments.

“Hungry?” he asked, opening a menu and setting it down in front of me.

“Starving.”

“Good. You hardly ate anything yesterday.” He looked out the plate glass window, his eyes scanning the street for threats like a soldier scanning the perimeter.

“So what do we know about this girl?” I asked as I studied the list of breakfast items that were laid out on the laminated menu. “Brief me.”

“Her name is Bella. She’s twenty-one years old. She works here fulltime. That’s all I know.”

“If she works here, then how can she be a prostitute, too?”

“Maybe she’s left that behind her.”

“And now we’re here to dredge it all up again?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”

But before Noah could answer, a waitress appeared at our table.

“Sorry,” she said. “I hope you guys haven’t been waiting long.” I recognized her immediately from the pictures on Ryan Aqualino’s phone, even though her face had been bruised and battered then. She had dark curly hair and freckles over her nose, her eyes bright and blue. There was a small scar on her chin and I wondered if it was left over from what he’d done to her. She smiled, showing straight white teeth. “We’re short staffed today. Can I get you something to drink? Or are you ready to order?”

“We’re ready to order,” Noah said, without even bothering to consult me. “Blueberry pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. For both of us. And coffee.”

“You got it,” she said, scribbling it all down on her pad before sticking her pencil behind her ear and heading back toward the kitchen.

I raised my eyebrows at Noah. “Hungry, are you?”

“I find that running really works up my appetite.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. That and fucking.” His voice was low and growly, and I knew he was thinking of what we’d done yesterday, how he’d gagged me and pushed my legs up over my had, fucking me until I was sore and aching. Heat rose on my cheeks.

A second later, Bella returned and set down two mugs of coffee.

Once she was gone again, Noah took a sip, wincing at the bitterness.

“Sorry, Mr. Snobby,” I teased, rolling my eyes. “You’ll have to make do with something other than your two-hundred-dollars-a-pound freshly ground French roast.”

“Charlotte, please refrain from name calling,” he said, his hand tightening around the handle of his mug. “And rolling your eyes is a sure way to get yourself punished.”

“Promise?” I asked, enjoying the flash of anger in his eyes at my back talk, the way his jaw tightened as he filed it away for later.

But I knew when it was time to stop pushing my luck. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” I dumped a bunch of sugar and cream into my coffee and stirred it with my spoon before taking a sip. I didn’t know what Noah was being so dramatic about – the coffee tasted fine to me.

“The plan?”

“Yes. Like, how are we going to approach Bella about Ryan?”

“We’re just going to ask her.”

I frowned. “Ask her what?”

“Ask her if she knew Ryan Aqualino.”

“She’s going to lie.”

“No, she won’t.”

“Yes, she will.”

“People love to talk about their lives, Charlotte,” Noah said. “You watch.”

“Okay, master,” I said. “Teach me.”

I meant for him to teach me about the law, but an amused look crossed his face. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Ms. Holloway.”

I blushed again.

When our food came, Noah didn’t ask Bella about her involvement with Ryan. Instead, he dug into his pancakes, watching me carefully as I took a tiny bite. I’d though I was hungry, but now that there was actually food in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to eat, probably because of all the stress I’d been under.

“Charlotte, you need to eat.” Noah reached across the table and cut my pancakes for me, then doused them in syrup.

“I don’t think so much sugar and so many carbs are good for me.”

“You don’t need to worry about sugar and carbs, you need to worry about eating something so that you don’t get weak.”

I almost laughed at the thought of my curvy body wasting away to nothing, but I took a bite obediently, and was surprised to find that the pancakes actually tasted delicious -- warm and sweet against my tongue. Noah nodded in satisfaction.

“Do you think I should text my mom?” I asked. “I haven’t heard from her since last night.”

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

I dug through my bag and pulled out my phone to see if there was a new text from my mom.

There wasn’t, but there was a notification of a new email.

It was from Dr. Jason Cartwright.

Charlotte,

I’d like to meet with you to discuss what I’m going to be saying at your disciplinary meeting. I don’t want there to be any surprises. Can you stop by my office this afternoon at one o’clock?

Jason

A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like the way he was calling it a disciplinary meeting. And what did he mean, he didn’t want there to be any surprises? What was he planning on telling them?

“What is it?” Noah demanded, and he reached over and took the phone out of my hands. His face darkened as he read the email.

“No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

“Noah –”

“No.”

I picked up my fork and took another piece of pancake, forcing myself to eat it, even though my stomach was churning. Then I took another sip of coffee and swallowed. “Noah, he’s going to tell me what he’s going to say at the meeting.”

“So what? I don’t give a shit what that asshole’s going to say.”

“Well, you should! He’s going to be one of the voices they listen to when it comes to deciding what to do with me.”

“No one is going to
decide
what to do with you, Charlotte.” He stabbed his fork into his eggs angrily. “Except for me.”

“Noah. This is important to me.” I thrust my chin into the air and he sighed. “Plus, if we know what he’s going to say, we can figure out how to combat it. Think of it that way. It’s like a tactical advantage.”

“I’m going with you.”

“To
meet
with him?”

“Yes.”

“Noah!” I threw my hands up into the air and shook my head. “If you show up with me, it’s going to look really bad.”

“Like I give a shit. This guy is obviously trying to get into your pants, Charlotte. I will not allow you to be alone with him.”

“What?” I repeated incredulously. “Noah, he’s a therapist.”

“Oh, and a therapist can’t want one of their patients? Why the hell else does he need to meet with you on a Saturday?” He rolled his eyes and took the last bite of his pancakes. “Don’t be naïve, Charlotte. Therapists falling in love with their patients is one of the most common things in the world.”

“Every man I come in contact with doesn’t want me, Noah.”

“Yes, Charlotte, they do.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I am a man, and I know how men think. You are beautiful, and smart, and sexy as hell. You are everything anyone would ever want, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone steal you from me.” His voice swelled with emotion on that last part, and I caught the briefest glimpse of the vulnerability that lurked behind his alpha exterior.

“So what should I tell him?” I asked, my finger hovering over the reply button. If I was going to make it there for one o’clock, we would have to go directly from here to Jason’s office – there wasn’t time to stop home first.

“Tell him we’ll be there.”

“Noah!”

He shrugged and leaned back in the booth, his shoulders thrust back in determination, as if to say
take it or leave it.

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out of if there was a way to get what I wanted. I wrapped my fingers around my coffee cup, mulling things over in my mind. “I’d like to negotiate,” I said finally.

“Oh, really?” An amused smile tugged at the corner of Noah’s full lips. He draped his arms across the back of the booth. He’d finished his breakfast, his plate completely empty, and I marveled at the way he could eat what he’d just eaten and have a body that looked as if it had been carved from granite.

“Yes,” I said, swallowing nervously.

“I’m listening, counselor.”

“You take me to the meeting, but you wait in the car.”

“No.”

“Final offer,” I said.

He started to open his mouth, but I cut him off. “Noah,” I said softly. “Please, this is… this is my career, my future.”

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers together. “I will wait in the car,” he said finally. “For ten minutes. If you are not out in ten minutes, I will come in there and get you.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m not kidding, Charlotte. Ten minutes, and then I will come into the building, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you out of there in front of everyone.” His voice was hard as steel, and I knew that as ridiculous as the thought of him throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the building was, it was by no means an empty threat.

“Okay,” I said, typing a reply to Jason letting him know I would be there as Bella returned to our table and refilled our coffee.

I waited again for Noah to bring up Ryan and the pictures we’d found on the cell phone, but he didn’t.

And he still didn’t, even when we’d finished eating, even when Bella was done clearing the table and had us brought the check. It wasn’t until Noah placed his credit card on the little plastic tray and Bella had returned from running it through the reader that Noah broached the subject of Ryan Aqualino.