Too Late Mr. Noble: You Can't Afford Me

The SUV glided through the dark streets of Manhattan. The partition was up.

Preston sat in the front seat, typing furiously on his tablet. "The narrative is shifting, sir. We released the security footage of Ford spiking the drink. Twitter is trending HeroHunt."

Hunt didn't answer. He was looking at Elle.

She was sprawled across the backseat, her head in his lap. She was shivering in her sleep.

He brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. Her skin was still too hot.

She whispered again, the same unintelligible name, a tear leaking from her closed eye.

Hunt pulled his hand back.

The raw, possessive fury that had driven him all night twisted into something colder and sharper: jealousy. He was competing with a ghost, a name he couldn't even identify. Why did she sound so broken when she said it?

He looked back at Elle.

The car turned into the underground garage of the Noble Building.

He could have taken her to her own apartment, the one she'd run to. He knew the address. But the thought of her there, alone, or worse, with Carlyn and Bree chattering in her ear... the thought of her being out of his sight tonight was intolerable. He was taking her back to the one place he could control.

"Sir," Preston said over the intercom. "Do you want me to call a doctor to the penthouse?"

"No," Hunt said. "I'll handle it."

He didn't want strangers touching her. Not tonight.

He carried her to the private elevator. The ride up was silent.

When the doors opened into the penthouse, the air was still. The destroyed cufflinks were gone-the housekeeper had been here.

He carried her into the master bedroom. He laid her on the silk sheets.

Hunt stood back, looking at his ruined suit. He smelled like chlorine and sweat. He needed a shower.

He turned to walk to the bathroom.

Behind him, Elle sat up. She gasped, a wet, ragged sound.

Hunt spun around.

"Elle?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide, panicked.

She didn't make it to the trash can.

She retched, and a wave of sickness splattered across the floor and onto Hunt's trousers.