Read Online Gone With the Wolf by Kristin Miller - Free Book Online Page B

wouldn’t bother her in the slightest to do so.
    She wasn’t like him.
    “The media couldn’t twist anything if I told them how I was attacked by that guy, and how you saved me,” she said quietly, taking back her hand. Tingly sensations lingered on her palm, flittering through her fingers and up her arm. She rubbed her hand on her jeans. Drake noticed, watching the swiping movement with grimly lit eyes.
    “You think your statement would matter?” His voice lowered to a flat calm. “The media are in the money business, not the truth business.”
    Emelia folded her arms, hardening herself for a possible confession. “What happened to the biker?”
    “Mr. Bloomfield took care of him,” Drake said simply.
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means you don’t have to worry about that guy, or anyone else, attacking you ever again. Mr. Bloomfield ran his background and discovered that he had a dozen warrants out for his arrest. We simply helped capture a wanted felon. Your attacker is behind bars at this very moment.”
    “Oh.” Tension eased from Emelia’s shoulders. She took comfort in the fact that she’d been wrong—Drake hadn’t killed the biker. He wouldn’t be charged with murder and she wouldn’t have to testify about the attack in some godawful trial. To top it off, the greaseball wouldn’t be attacking any other women in the future. “Well, that’s…good, I guess.”
    Did the fact that her attacker was a felon make Drake any less shady for what he did? He protected her though, didn’t he? And he clearly hadn’t taken advantage of her, which he totally could have while she was knocked out. Maybe his motives were truly genuine. And maybe the sickeningly wealthy lived under the radar like this all the time, handling things quickly and efficiently so the media wouldn’t be able to dig up any dirt.
    “You hit the steering wheel pretty hard,” he said. “How do your ribs feel?”
    “They don’t hurt much.” Absentmindedly, Emelia touched her stomach, just below her breasts. Twinges of hollow, aching pain echoed through her. Sucking in a shallow breath, Emelia looked down and for the first time noticed a purple bruise forming on her chest, just below the lacy ridge of her tank top. “Shit, guess I hit harder than I thought.”
    “You should probably see a doctor.” Drake’s entire body stiffened like one of his statues.
    “I bruise easy,” she said. “It’s the pale skin.”
    Drake responded with a clench of his jaw and a slow nod of his head. Emelia couldn’t explain it, but she got the feeling he wanted to apologize for something. It couldn’t be the apology Emelia hoped for, the one she deserved for putting up with his bullshit about the deed to her building, because he didn’t know the true reason she’d taken the job at his company. He’d obviously screwed so many people out of their small business that he couldn’t remember their names.
    Why was he looking at her that way? She needed to get out of his house so she could think without feeling that Drake was studying her every move. Emelia eyed the door, wondering where she’d go when she walked through it. “Where’s my car and all my stuff?”
    “Your things are in the closet in the foyer. Your car is at EC’s Tow and Repair. They’ll have the damage fixed by the end of next week.”
    “Wonderful,” she said, crossing the marble entry beneath a teardrop-shaped chandelier. Now she had to waste money on a rental, when she should be using it on legal fees to figure out the dilemma with Wilder Financial. As she thought about the possibility of being stuck in a lawsuit with Drake over the true and rightful ownership of her bar, a strange sensation tugged deep within her chest. It wasn’t guilt. Couldn’t be. She pulled her coat, purse, and phone from the closet, then flicked her phone to life and searched for a cab company to get home.
    “You’re welcome to drive one of my cars until yours is fixed.”
    “No, I don’t