The Billionaire's Touch by Olivia Thorne Page B

idea.”
    “What’s the joke about ‘spontaneously combust’?”
    “Who knows? Maybe something about how he plans to kill me.”
    I shudder and move on. “‘End playtime prematurely’?”
    Grant shrugs again, this time with an expression like, Why do you keep asking me this stuff?
    “What’s the French at the end mean?”
    “You don’t know French?” he teases me.
    “I took español in high school.”
    “It’s a line from Baudelaire. 19 th Century French poet. It’s from Les Fleurs Du Mal, ‘The Flowers of Evil.’ ‘Until I see you again, my hypocrite reader, my own kind, my brother.’”
    I frown. “This guy obviously sees some kind of kinship between you.”
    “Unfortunately.”
    “I mean, he’s calling you his own kind and his brother. Why?”
    “Ask him when you help me catch him.”
    Speaking of which…
    “These texts were sent to your phone?”
    “Yes.”
    “Are these the originals?”
    “Yes.”
    I immediately head for the door. “Be back in a second.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “My computer. I need to access these – ”
    Grant catches my hand, pulls me back to the bed. “Later. We need to get a move on.”
    “But I might be able to backtrack them to the source.”
    “My tech team did everything they could and they couldn’t find a damn thing.”
    “Yeah, well, that’s why you hired me.”
    He grins. “Touché. But grab your laptop and save it for later. We need to get moving.”
    I harrumph. I don’t like being told ‘no.’
    But I start to pack again – until I realize something and stop. “He found your phone number.”
    “Well, I didn’t give it to him. That I know of, anyway.”
    “You might have given him your phone number?” I ask incredulously.
    “Well, I am a businessmen. I do occasionally give people my phone number, yes,” he says drily.
    ‘People’ meaning supermodels and A-list actresses? I want to ask, but I rein it in. Instead I say, “It wasn’t easy for me to find.”
    “I should hope not.”
    “That means he’s a hacker, or he has access to people who can do that.”
    “Yup.”
    “Which means he’s either super-smart, or he’s very rich. People who can do that sort of thing? They don’t risk twenty years in jail for minimum wage.”
    “I figured.”
    I frown at him. “I don’t get it.”
    “Get what?”
    “You are just way too calm for all this stuff going on.”
    “People tell me I have ice water in my veins.”
    “Is that so.”
    He stands right next to me, his face close to mine, his voice seductive. “That’s what they tell me.”
    I narrow my eyes at him. “I thought we’re in a hurry.”
    His lips are close to mine now. “We are.”
    I pat his crotch in a consoling manner. “Well, grab your package and save it for later. We need to get moving.”
    Then I walk past him to get my laptop.
    He laughs. “Well played.”
    “Of course,” I say over my shoulder.
    I love winning… even if it’s just temporarily.

5
    As it turns out, I got that ride in the limo after all.
    “Where are we going?” I ask Grant as the limo cruises through the warm LA sunshine.
    “New York.”
    I stare at him. “What?!”
    “My base of operations is there. All my people are there. It’s a lot more secure than where I’m staying in LA.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to New York?!”
    He looks mystified. “I told you we were going to be moving around.”
    “Yeah, but – I thought you meant between Santa Monica and Hollywood!”
    He laughs. “I want to keep you guessing.”
    “You’re certainly doing that ,” I mutter, then get down to business. “Okay, what are we going to do now? Go over your plan? Try to formulate… a…”
    He’s smiling and giving me bedroom eyes.
    “Oh no,” I say, and shake my head. “NO.”
    He leans in for a kiss.
    I have a moment of almost-weakness, but I back away at the last instant. “No means no. En Oh. NO.”
    “Why not?” he asks, amused.
    “Well, for one, because I don’t