A Is for Apple by Kate Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

home?”
    “They’re really tailing you?”
    He nodded painfully. “For two days now. They think I know something about Shapiro.”
    “Do you?”
    “He owes me five grand. I haven’t seen him since he came to pick up the portrait.”
    “Which was…?”
    “Three days ago.”
    “And they’ve been after you since?”
    “Yep.”
    Bollocks. This was all too much at once.
    “Look, I have a boyfriend who’s possibly armed and definitely really pissed off with me. And I have to try and figure out this Shapiro thing. And you being here will just—just complicate things,” I said, looking up at him pleadingly. “Look,” I grabbed his arm and tugged him around the corner where there was an alcove and machines vending drinks and ice, “get some ice, I’ll try and get back to you…”
    I left him and dashed down the hall. Luke was leaning against my door, kicking it moodily.
    “Still here?” I asked, looking in my bag for my key.
    “You owe me an explanation.”
    “I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” God, I’d forgotten how hot he was.
    “Just while we’re in public.”
    “You mean you can get less reasonable?” Jesus.
    I was having trouble getting the key into the slot. I kept jamming it in and it kept refusing to bleep and let me turn the handle.
    “I’m not going to do this in public,” Luke said evenly.
    “’Cos downstairs was so private.” Open, damn you!
    He eyed my efforts with the key. “You need help with that?”
    “No.”
    I struggled a bit longer, then Luke snatched the key out of my hand, turned it over and opened the door in a second.
    I stalked in without looking at him. To be truthful, I was a little bit afraid. I don’t think Luke would ever get violent with me—well, not without my consent—but boy, did he look mad. He gets jealous very easily.
    He followed me in and the door swung shut. I avoided his gaze and sat down on the bed to take off my shoes and give my poor, poor feet some air.
    “So,” Luke said into the silence.
    “So,” I replied stubbornly.
    “Why the hell were you kissing him?”
    I sighed and peeled off a plaster on my heel. “Did you see the guy with the shiny suit?”
    “No.”
    Figures. I have a feeling he didn’t see anything but me and Xander.
    “There were two of them but I think one left. They work for Shapiro. They’re after Xander.”
    “Xander? Who the fuck is Xander?”
    “Xander Harvard. He’s Harvey’s brother.”
    “What, he’s got a twin?” Luke snorted.
    “Yes.”
    “A completely identical twin?”
    “Apparently so.”
    “Sophie, do you have any idea how ridiculous—”
    “Fine.” I threw up my hands, which would have been a much grander gesture if I hadn’t had a bloody plaster stuck to my left little finger. “Don’t believe me. I’m only your girlfriend and your damn colleague. Go out there and ask him, if you think he’s Harvey—ask him what kind of car he drives, or what kind of shampoo Angel uses—”
    “’Cos he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know any of that stuff,” Luke snarled.
    “Ask him for ID! He has a driving licence. It has his name on it.”
    “You’ve seen his driving licence?”
    “Yes! I didn’t believe him either! But I was rational about it!”
    “You call this being rational?” Luke yelled.
    “I’m not yelling as loud as you,” I shrieked.
    “Fine,” Luke bellowed.
    “Fine,” I screamed and jumped up, my feet still half-swaddled, grabbed my purse and my key card and wrenched the door open.
    “Where the hell are you going?”
    “Away from you,” I snarled.
    “Back to him?”
    “No, not back to fucking him,” I hollered. “Just—”
    A door opened further down the corridor.
    “Could you keep it down?” whined an American voice.
    “No,” Luke and I snapped at the same time, “fuck off.”
    The door shut pretty sharpish. I turned on my sore heel and stomped as hard as I could in bare feet, down the corridor to the vending alcove. It was empty, Xander was gone,