know what I had. Not as a weapon, at least. I thought my research would help us better understand those humans who choose to live outside the fringes. It’s—” She broke off, the excuse flimsy and rather useless. She was responsible for her own actions—her own research—and blaming others for the potential they saw in it was equally flimsy and useless.
“I didn’t intend my research to be applied in this fashion, but now that I’ve received clear feedback that will be its intent, I have a responsibility to press for responsible use. I’ve already published my preliminary research.”
“Isn’t that standard in your field?” Liam’s vivid blue gaze never wavered.
“Presenting research is, yes. It’s expected, even. But I was perhaps a bit too—” she broke off, struggling for the right words. “I was hasty in my speed to publish. So now I’ve got a second article in development with the same journal. The publisher has made arrangements to cross-publish the implications of my findings with the New York Times. The public needs to know what I’m sitting on.”
“And you had no idea it would come to this?” Liam’s gaze stayed direct, but she saw something behind those magnetic blue eyes—whether it was censure or understanding she had no idea—but there was something behind his words.
“Why would she know that?” Alexander demanded, his loud voice and hard fist to the table effectively ending the moment. “You know as well as I do no one has a crystal ball.”
“I understand that, Grandfather.” Liam’s words were measured and, although directed toward Alexander, his gaze never left her own. “What I’d like to understand is if Dr. Magnini really thinks this little exercise of cleansing her guilt with the press will stop her from later selling her research to the highest bidder.”
“Of course I don’t think this absolves me of guilt. But I do believe it’s the right thing to do.”
His voice dropped, the tone velvety smooth. “Or perhaps, Isabella, you’re biding your time before simply selling it to your employer?”
She shook her head, fighting the rising indignation that had her feet itching to race for the door. Liam’s questions—no matter how directly asked—were nothing compared to what she’d receive from the press and public so she’d better learn to handle it. “I own all my research. I’m not beholden to anyone.”
His eyebrows shot up at that one, the first look of genuine surprise she’d seen. “How’d you swing that?”
“I had a benefactor.”
“And they don’t want a piece of the action?”
“Dr. Stephenson is dead. He was my professor—mentor really—in graduate school. The funding was his final gift to me.”
Isabella knew she was beyond fortunate for the gift Daniel had bestowed on her. His research had contributed heavily to the field and his own personal wealth had funded much of what he’d worked on. He’d believed in her and believed she’d carry on his legacy, advancing the science to new heights.
And how had she repaid him?
By publishing her results to the entire scientific community.
Her vanity had brought the wolf to her door. And she hoped like hell Liam Steele would know how to keep him at bay.
* * *
Liam swirled the whiskey in his glass, the late hour ensuring he’d be escorting Dr. Isabella Magnini home in a taxi. A steady layer of ire had coated his throat since dinner and no amount of coffee or the stronger nightcap could do anything to assuage it.
What the hell was she thinking?
And even as the judgmental thoughts crowded his mind he pulled himself back.
He was the last person who should judge. His choices—misguided and full of his own foolish vanity—had resulted in far more heartache and pain than he could have ever imagined.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, his sister’s name on the readout. “Kenzi. Prompt and efficient as always.”
“Excellent. I can see by your nasty and condescending tone Grandfather convinced you to take on Dr. Magnini’s situation.”
“You knew damn well he would.”
“And you knew damn well you would, too.”
He sighed, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxing slightly. Whatever else she was—and royal pain in the ass frequently sat on the top of the list—his sister had his back. She also understood him, likely better than any other member of his family. “She’s in deep, Kenz.”
The tart lemons faded from her voice and underneath the professionalism he heard the camaraderie they’d shared since they were small. “Grandfather knows she needs help and I’d wager he didn’t have all the specifics when he not so gently encouraged us to take this job.”
“Or more likely chose not to share them.” He caught her up quickly on what he’d gleaned at dinner—both the information Isabella shared as well as his overarching suspicions about her situation—before going in for the kill. “She’s got some serious research on her side. Thinks that’s the reason people are after her.”
“You think she’s legit? Grandfather’s got an eagle eye but even he can get rusty from time to time.” Kensington broke off, the line going quiet, before she continued. “I looked into her background.”
Liam knew the circumstances of her father’s downfall would have pinged for Kensington almost immediately so it was some surprise when a ready defense leapt to his lips. “She shared her background with us already and made no attempt to hide who her father was.”
“He’s a nasty piece of work.” The sound of light tapping on her keyboard had a small smile curving his lips. Whatever else she was—nearly all of it good—his sister was a dog with a bone when it came to information. “I’m sending you what I’ve found. Check your email.”
“Aye aye.” The faint beep alerted him the message had arrived.
“Liam—”
His sister hesitated, very un-Kenzi-like. That silence did more to catch his attention than the loudest shout. “What is it?”
“This isn’t a joke. She’s going to have problems. Serious ones, if her father’s any indication. Add on how she’s chosen to build her career and you’ve got someone whose choices are very personal.”
“Isn’t that the very definition of the choices we make for ourselves?” Liam wasn’t sure why—first his grandparents and now his sister—but where he normally let things slide off, something in her words lodged in his gut. So the good doctor had something of an ax to grind in her rush to get over her past. Until she’d made the monumental mistake of making the information public, she was well within her rights to figure out where she came from however the hell she pleased.
“Just be careful of her motivations.”
“You can stop your worrying. She appears normal enough, for a poorly dressed scientist who seems somewhat oblivious to the world around her.”
An image of the woman standing on his grandparents’ front stoop leaped into his thoughts, a slightly manic look in her eyes as she spun toward him with her wet umbrella. The mania that filled the deep green of her eyes did battle with what could only be described as an absent-minded quirk of her eyebrows.
“You sure did notice a lot for an hour’s visit.”
The impression in his mind of those vivid green eyes faded as he keyed back into all the things Kensington wasn’t saying. “That’s my job.”
“And I’m doing mine. Look at the file and let me know your impressions. Anything else you want me to dig into, just let me know.”
“Got it.”
“Give