His Inspiration (7 page)

I blinked. “You did? I mean, I asked him why he didn't know
where you were, and he said—”

“Did you tell him?”

“What, where we were? No.”

Malcolm relaxed further. “Good. Go on.”

Dominic came and removed our plates before returning with
another course, this time a shellfish bisque. I waited until he had retreated
before continuing. “Well, he said that you hadn't told him, but that it was
really important that you come back to New York.”

Malcolm spooned soup into his mouth. “Did he say why?”

I looked down at my soup, embarrassed. “Yeah. I asked him, and
he said you were wanted for questioning by the FBI, and that you needed to come
back to New York before you got arrested.”

To my surprise, Malcolm nodded. “Yes, that does put a bit of a
kink in his plans.”

I lifted my gaze and studied him in astonishment. “Wait a
second,” I said. “You actually
are
wanted by the FBI for questioning?”

He nodded. “No doubt my sudden flight forced their hand. I bet
it will be all over the news soon.”

That Don
hadn't
been lying to me was almost as
astonishing as the fact that Malcolm seemed completely unperturbed by his
status as motherfucking
wanted by the FBI.

I mean, let's be real here. That is some serious shit.

“What did you do?” I demanded. My brain began to replay scenes
from
Silence of the Lambs
and suddenly I realized that Malcolm was just
so
Hannibal Lecter, why hadn't I seen it, I was going to end up served with
fava beans, oh
god—

“Oh, I haven't done anything,” Malcolm said, cutting off my
paranoid fantasies. “Don is framing me for massive embezzlement of my company.”

I stared at him some more. “What?” I said.

Malcolm smiled. “He doesn't know I know, nor that I have proof
that it is he who is doing the embezzlement. The FBI's been watching me for
some time, and he's been their mole.”

“What?” I said again.

“Isn't it delicious?” he asked. “It's the most interesting thing
to happen to me in years.” Then his eyes focused on me, and he smiled again.
“Except for you.”

I have to admit, I was not assimilating this information very
well. “So wait,” I said. “You're being watched by the FBI, because they suspect
you of embezzlement and fraud, and your secretary is ratting you out to them,
except he's actually the one embezzling and defrauding the company, and you
know this and have proof?”

He nodded. He took another serene sip of soup.

I put my hands to my forehead. “Are you... do you act crazy in
public just to screw with the FBI? To place doubt in people's minds about your
sanity?”

“Oh no,” Malcolm said. “Not at all. Don was simply one of the
closest people to me in my life. He was like a brother to me. After I found out
he was betraying me, I just... didn't care any more. It didn't seem to matter
much what I did. And I wasn't having any fun being the staid and stately CEO,
so I decided to... not be.” He shrugged. “I've had far more fun these past few
months than I ever had in my entire life, Sadie. It's definitely been worth it
to go crazy. Crazy suits me.”

None of this was making sense to me. “But... but if you have
proof that it's been Don doing the embezzling, then why don't you just show it
to the FBI? That would make the problem go away.”

An expression of pure shock passed over his features. He was
beautiful shocked. “I couldn't do that,” he said, and he sounded scandalized.
“I told you. Don was like a brother to me. You don't just turn your brother
over to the feds.”

“But... but he's the one turning
you
over!” I almost
shouted.

He nodded as though he had no idea to what I was objecting. “But
I couldn't do the same to my brother. We were very close. Very close, a long
time ago...” He trailed off and a faraway look passed over his eyes, like a
cloud over the moon.

The betrayal cut him deeply. Far more deeply than just a friend
or a business rival screwing you over. This was personal. On Malcolm's side, at
least.

My heart went out to him. “So that's it?” I asked, my voice
softening. For want of something to do, I picked up my spoon and scooped up a
spoonful of bisque and held it in front of me, letting it cool.“You were just
going to let your best friend, the best friend you say is like a brother to
you, steal money from your company and then frame you for it and send you off
to federal prison?”

Malcolm shrugged. “No, I never have any intentions of going to
prison,” he assured me. “That will not happen.”

I frowned, so confused at this point I didn't know which way was
up and which way was down.“Then what did you plan to do instead? You know,
before the FBI decided to arrest and charge you for a crime you didn't commit?”

Malcolm smiled at me, and it was a sad thing. “Oh, that was
easy,” he said. “I'd planned to kill myself.”

* * *

To be continued in
His Obsession (The Billionaire's Muse,
#4)!
 

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About the Author

Ava Lore was raised by wombats and
lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing erotic romance, she
spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced
coffee to kill a musk ox.

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