His to Take by Shayla Black Page B

promise.”
    With a squeeze of Bailey’s hand, she strolled back to Thorpe and settled beside him.
     He curled her against his side and held her close.
    “You’re still not eating, pet?” Thorpe asked gently, but he didn’t sound pleased.
    “I’ve just been so busy.”
    He leveled her with a demanding stare that said he refused to let the subject go.
    “All right. I’m going.” She gave a long-suffering sigh and rose.
    Thorpe swatted her ass. “A meal, Callie. Not an apple. Not a cup of yogurt. I left
     you several choices in the fridge. Warm one up.”
    The gorgeous brunette looked like she really wanted to protest, but she didn’t. “Yes,
     Sir.”
    At the reverence in Callie’s tone, another pang of envy pained Bailey. The heiress
     had found her place in this world, people she belonged with and to, men who watched
     over her. Looking back on her childhood, Bailey realized that she had shared a name
     and a house with her parents . . . but no real bond. And she hadn’t connected with
     any boyfriends, never felt the sort of love flowing between these three. So she’d
     focused on her dance and tried to use it as an outlet for her yearning.
    But none of that mattered now. Someone wanted to kill her because she might be a long-lost
     Russian child. Until she could shake them, she couldn’t figure out who she was, where
     she belonged, and who she belonged with.
    As Callie let herself out of the room, Bailey made her way back to her seat and sank
     onto the cushion, feeling more alone than ever.
    “You okay?” Joaquin asked.
    He didn’t have to care at all. She resisted softening toward him for asking.
    “I’m all right. Where did Sean go?”
    “To see what other information he might be able to dig up to assist you,” Thorpe offered.
     “He’s still consulting with the FBI on this case. They might have some background
     that will help. If nothing else, he’ll get the murder of these women on their radar
     so they can start investigating possible tie-ins.”
    A good thing. Even if she never came within sneezing distance of danger, these madmen
     needed to be stopped so no one else faced this fear or endured the dead women’s horror
     again.
    To Thorpe, she just nodded.
    He frowned at her. “I’m working some angles from here, too. Joaquin and I have been
     talking. I’ve sent Axel, my head of security, down to Houston.”
    “He’ll see if anyone is looking for you and make sure that no one messes with your
     boyfriend because they’re looking for you.”
    Joaquin must mean Blane. Bailey opened her mouth to explain that he was just a friend,
     then stopped. The man who’d taken her from her house had tried to kiss her. Worse,
     she’d nearly let him. If he believed that she was taken . . . well, she didn’t really
     expect him to keep his distance because of it. After all, a guy willing to pluck a
     sleeping woman from her bed might not have a lot of scruples, but at least she could
     use Blane as an excuse if Joaquin tried to kiss her again. It wasn’t much, but it
     was all she had now. And she needed a boundary between them. She had enough on her
     plate trying to decipher her real identity and hide from killers. But that wasn’t
     all. Joaquin oozed this sex vibe that told her he’d been around the block. She, on
     the other hand, was still taking baby steps down the driveway. He’d chew her up and
     spit her out. The last thing she needed was to get emotionally tangled with someone
     like him.
    “Thanks,” she said to Thorpe. “Blane will appreciate that.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    Sean opened the door a minute later with a piece of paper in hand. With a purposeful
     stride, he headed in her direction. “Joaquin said you don’t remember anything before
     you were five. And that you only dream about being picked up bloody on the side of
     the road. Is that right?”
    Where was he going with this? “Yes.”
    “Do you have a vivid image of the little girl in the