TWENTY

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A few minutes later, they were all huddled around a laptop on the dining table while Malora hovered anxiously.

"I don't suppose"—Adeleke glanced up—"you remember anything about when and where these photographs were taken. Or by whom?"

"We were waiting for the concert. And it was only the one guy. He was sleazy. And was wearing...uh...a leather jacket. I think he had a...brown hair?"

Ladies and gentlemen, we present to you Malora McCarran: Witness of the Year.

"Sounds like Stan."

Colour her lost and confused. And it must have reflected on her face because Blake eyed her and asked, "Can we try another injunction?"

She caught something in Adeleke's eyes—as real and sharp and frightening as the flash of a hidden blade. Everything his smile wasn't. But, when he spoke, he tone was mild enough that she was tempted to convince herself she'd imagined what she'd seen." It's difficult to make them stick when Ms. McCarran herself keeps putting herself in these situations."

"Obsession can be quiet attractive." Blake cleared his throat. "Or so I understand."

"He's not my friend."

Adeleke's only form of expression was the slight re-angling of a brow. "You were out with another man who fed you strawberries you delightfully digested."

"I was talking about Stan, whoever the fuck that is, not Lloyd."

"That's better because?"

Blake cleared his throat. "The matter at hand?" He turned the screen more to Adeleke and away from her.

Adeleke spared with a brief glance before immersing himself in the laptop again. "These are the only photographs circulating and they don't appear to have been picked up by any major outlets. If we do nothing to suggest that they might be worth attention, they will be less than a flotsam in a day or two."

"And of not?"

"Then," Adeleke said mildly, "I will ensure that there's something more newsworthy available to claim attention."

He could do that?

Who was she kidding? Of course he could do that.

"So it's okay?" She asked.

He nodded. "I believe so, though I will continue to monitor the situation."

"And Titan isn't cross?"

Uncomprehending silence.

"I mean," she babbled on, "he might not like it if people thought I was, you know, being with another."

Blake awarded her with one of his coolest looks. "He is well aware of the vagaries of the gutter press."

"Okay. Good. Well, not good but—"

"Though it's possible he might be less circumspect if he though you were upset. Something I will not be communicating to him." His eyes was steady on hers, diamond sharp. "Will you?"

Wow, he really didn't think good things about her right now. "Of course not."

And Malora wasn't really upset. Just worried that Titan might...see it and not like it.

"Malora, are you laboring under the misapprehension that he spends his afternoons googling you?"

Malora could have pointed out that Titan had stalked both her social media feeds looking for her and also sent out several PIs to fine-comb through all of London once he discovered she never left England in the first place. But she didn't. She had because dignity.

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