The Billionaire's Touch by Olivia Thorne Page A

pocketing the extra amount just to pad your company’s pockets.”
    Dan blushes profusely.
    For the first time, I get really pissed off at Dan, and see him as the company man he really is.
    Dan clears his throat. “My mistake. Five times your normal salary for this particular job.”
    I look over at Grant.
    He stares back at me and raises one eyebrow.
    Well? What’s it going to be?
    Five times the money…
    Danger…
    A Hannibal Lecter type in the mix…
    And quite possibly more of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
    “I’m in,” I say.

4
    We’re in my apartment. I drove there in my Audi; Grant arrived in his own private limo.
    I have to admit, I was a teensy bit jealous.
    Now he lounges on my bed and watches as I pack a suitcase.
    “And why do I need to pack, exactly?” I ask.
    “We’ll be hopping from place to place a lot. I want to be a moving target, not a sitting duck.”
    “Uh huh,” I say dubiously. I’m still half-convinced this is all just an elaborate excuse to get me naked in his bed for a couple of days.
    Not that that would be a bad way to spend a couple of days…
    Focus, Eve, FOCUS. Stop getting turned on.
    I pull out some bras and panties.
    “Do I get a show?” he asks.
    “NO,” I say as I stuff them in the suitcase, although part of me desperately wants to give him one.
    “Maaaan…” he complains playfully.
    “For a guy with a serial killer after you, you don’t seem too concerned.”
    “I’ve got you to help me now.” He says it with a complete lack of sarcasm.
    “I got news for you: I can flush this guy out from an online trail of breadcrumbs, but that’s not going to help you if he shows up on your doorstep with a chainsaw.”
    “If he shows up on my doorstep with a chainsaw, I’ll handle it from there.”
    “So what do you know about this guy? Actually, are you even sure it’s a guy?”
    “Reasonably sure.”
    “How sure is reasonably sure?”
    “99%.”
    “How do you know? Have you seen him?”
    “No.”
    “Then how do you know?”
    “I hired a former FBI profiler and had her go over the messages he’s left. It’s her opinion he’s male.”
    “Can I see her report?”
    “Yes.”
    “You have messages?”
    “Yes.”
    “Text? Voice?”
    “Just text. Two of them.”
    “Can I see them?”
    He pulls out his phone, taps the screen a couple of times, and hands me the cell.
    Well, Mr. Carlson, I’ve found you first. I’ll admit, it was difficult; you’re quite well-hidden. Commend your ‘people’… although since I WAS able to find you, you might want to consider hiring new ones.
    Better hurry while you still have time.
    You surprised me the other night. I had to spontaneously adjust. But better than spontaneously combust, eh?
    The next move is yours. Although the advantage is mine.
    Ta ta for now.
    The next one was a little more threatening – and personal. At least to me.
    An internet security company? Really. I would suggest a band of mercenaries instead. Although, on second thought, even that wouldn’t help you.
    I was quite annoyed that I had to end playtime prematurely.
    I won’t make the same mistake when I take your life.
    Au revoir, mon hyprocrite lecteur, mon semblable, mon frere.          
    I frown. “What the hell?”
    “I know,” he sighs.
    “What did you do to this guy?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “He apparently wants to kill you, but you have no idea why?”
    “Nope.”
    “You didn’t sleep with his girlfriend, or steal his business idea, or – ”
    “Walk on the wrong side of the road during a full moon? Who knows.”
    “He knows about you hiring my company.”
    “Yeah,” Grant admits.
    “He might even know about you hiring me. That’s freaking me out a little bit.”
    “That last text came in Sunday morning, so he’s probably not in the loop about you.”
    “Yet.”
    “Yet,” Grant concedes.
    “He says that you surprised him the other night. What’s he talking about?”
    Grant shrugs. “No