Лиза Джонс: Dangerous Secrets

Hewitt waved a negligent hand. “Minor stuff, not enough to get you riled up. Quite frankly, she annoys people, Russell. And this needs to stop.”

Mason frowned. Hewitt had referred to his daughter as a nuisance more than once. It irritated him, how dense the man could be.

Couldn’t he see how badly Blake needed his attention? His love?

“And because of everything she’s done, I don’t think it’s safe to keep her around. I have no idea what she has planned next,” Hewitt continued.

Disbelief surged through Mason. “Sir, do you really think she has something planned?”

“I have no idea. I never know what she’s going to do.”

Mason kept silent.

“I’m sending her away and you’ll accompany her. She prefers it there on the island. She can relax, be herself and not cause any problems. Her recklessness is dangerous to my reputation.”

She wasn’t reckless. The woman was too lonely. Something her neglectful parents didn’t realize and probably never would.

He’d observed her more than once out with her so-called friends. The people who surrounded her, they used her because of who she was and what she had. Growing up a trust fund baby, her mother’s family’s wealth and status were well known. And being the daughter of a mayor, a senator, and ultimately the vice president earned her a lot of attention from phonies and users.

Her loneliness was so palpable Mason couldn’t understand why no one noticed. Why he was the only one perceptive enough to see it.

The haunting look in her eyes made him secretly ache for her.

“You must keep an extra close eye on my daughter, Russell. The second you think something’s wrong, I want you to contact me.” Hewitt stared at him hard, his expression unreadable.

“Absolutely, sir,” Mason agreed with a nod.

“I won’t tolerate her careless behavior any longer.” With an angry flick of his fingers, Hewitt sent the magazine flying and it landed with a loud plop on the floor. “Get rid of this. I can’t stand to look at it.”

The tired expression on Hewitt’s face said it all—he was done with him as well. Mason bent and snagged the magazine from the ground, tucked it under his arm and exited the office without another word.

The tabloid fairly burned a hole on the inside of his arm but he refused to look at it. He’d done that this morning, stared at Blake’s pretty, smiling face. Her irresistible, hot body called for his touch. In his dreams, anyway.

He never thought photos of a woman in a bikini could turn into beat off material at his age, but that was before he saw these particular photos of Blake. The one woman who occupied his secret dreams, his wicked fantasies—the woman he could never have.

Now he had another copy to add to his beat off collection. Mason practically growled in irritation.

Fucking perfect.

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