by Morgan James
She gritted her teeth and admonished herself for allowing him to get under her skin and undermine her confidence without so much as a word. This man meant nothing to her; he was probably just being interviewed for the security position. Once he left, she would tell Benny that the man wouldn’t be a good fit. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.
Benny spoke up as she came within a couple feet of them. “Dr. Carr, this is Blake Lawson with Quentin Security Group.”
The man held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Victoria bristled, her eyes narrowing at him as she offered a brief handshake. “Doctor Carr.”
After almost ten years in the South, she still wasn’t used to the precipitous use of the word ma’am. She knew it was supposed to be a sign of respect, but the man’s tone had an almost mocking quality to it. If the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was any indication, he clearly found her indignation humorous. She didn’t normally think so highly of herself, but the man had her on guard. Better to distance herself now and put him in his place. She straightened her spine and stared him down. His eyes twinkled with mirth but his face remained impassive, stoking her ire. Good thing he wouldn’t be around long, otherwise they were bound to butt heads.
Benny interrupted her thoughts. “Mr. Lawson will resume duties beginning Monday.”
Victoria startled, and her mouth dropped open a fraction. “I’m sorry?”
The building manager nodded. “I’ll get him a set of keys, so you can lock up like normal when you leave for the evening. We’ve been discussing the option of installing cameras at each entrance, as well as in the elevator and on each floor.”
Blake opened his mouth, but she cut in and spoke over him. “Clearly, Mr. Lawson, you are aware of the sensitive nature of my work. It would be an infringement of my patient’s rights to track them all over the building.” Again, his mouth opened to speak, but she continued. “They need to feel comfortable here, not like prisoners.”
She turned to Benny. “I will not consent to cameras. Besides, they seem to be a completely unnecessary expense if Mr. Lawson here”—she gestured to the man to her right—“is truly as competent as he says he is.”
She felt more than saw his look of disdain, and she kept her gaze firmly on Benny as Blake spoke up. “I assure you, ma’am, I am completely capable of securing a single building.” There was no mistaking the derision in his voice this time, and she cut a glare at him as he continued. “However, in my expertise, it is better to have too many precautions in place rather than too few. I was led to believe that a call was made to you from a recent crime scene. Is that correct?”
His hazel eyes burned into hers, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, but—”
“Then it would appear,” he cut in, “that you could potentially be in danger. I don’t know the how or why of it, Doctor Carr, but I am here to prevent anyone from harming you.”
Victoria notched her chin up a degree. “And what qualifications do you have, exactly?”
Blake regarded her with no small amount of condescension. “I’ve been trained in a range of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat.”
“That’s—”
He barreled over her. “In addition to that, I also completed four tours as a US Marine where I served in the Special Forces. I’ve been to thirty-two countries and am equipped to navigate any terrain and survive in any condition so, yes, I believe I am qualified. Ma’am.”
Victoria bit her tongue and clenched her hands into tight fists as he tacked on that last parting shot. She refused to let the man rile her. Since Benny had obviously already offered Blake the position, she would just have to suck it up and avoid him at all costs. She lifted her chin and stared at him down the end of her nose.
“Fine. I expect you to leave my office alone during business hours unless you are expressly requested to intervene. I will accede to cameras in the elevator and main access points, but none on my floor, nor in my office. Will that be a problem for you, Mr. Lawson?”
His only response was a curt shake of his head, his eyes cold and hard.
“Have a nice day.” Victoria spun on her heel and strode across the lobby, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Stomping up the five flights of stairs, she willed her anger to abate. Instead, it only grew. She thought briefly about calling Benny this afternoon and having him replace Mr. Lawson, but that would appear too suspicious. Better to wait a few days, make a complaint about his behavior or work ethic, then have Blake’s company send a new guard in his stead.
Decision made, Victoria reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the heavy steel door before stepping into the hallway. The door to her office was just to her left, and she unlocked it and stepped into the lobby. Soft, calming notes of lavender and vanilla floated on the air, and she inhaled deeply. It was a technique she’d employed shortly after opening her own practice. The subtle scent made patients feel welcome and relaxed before they even stepped foot into her office. For first timers, it was incredibly important for them to feel comfortable approaching her. She herself wore a light vanilla fragrance to blend harmoniously with the atmosphere. She wanted the office to feel homey, so they replaced the fragrance each week to keep it fresh. In addition, she’d opted for comfy, overstuffed couches and chairs rather than standard, office-issue furniture. Abstract paintings in jewel tones hung on the walls, and the large picture window highlighted the beautiful cityscape of downtown Dallas.
Victoria unlocked the staff door as she passed, then made her way to the end of the hall to her own office. Located in the corner of the building, there were windows on two walls, allowing the bright morning light to filter in. The room itself was a large square, with her desk situated directly across from the door. A couch took up most of the right wall and two large armchairs sat to the left of the desk in a cozy nook, flanking the other window. Bookshelves covered every inch of free wall space, books and journals stacked two-deep in some places.
Striding to the desk, she sank into her chair and fired up the computer, tilting the monitor away from the glare of sunlight streaming through the window behind her. She spent the next twenty minutes scrolling through emails and checking her calendar for any updates. Today’s schedule was pretty light, thank goodness, with only two appointments this morning and one this afternoon. After almost two years in her own practice, she was finally getting to the point that she could take cases on a selective basis. Her clientele had grown steadily over the past couple of years and through word of mouth, she’d been able to steadily develop her patient list.
Out of college, she’d interned with a local group but had ultimately decided to move on. She’d learned a lot during her time with the Wellness Group, but she had principles and ideals that she preferred to focus on. She’d begun scouting the outlying areas of Dallas close to the suburbs where real estate was less expensive when she’d found this little gem. A friend of hers, Dr. Kate Winfield, had an office in the same building. She and Kate had met in their second year at the University of Texas, where they’d shared several of the same classes. They’d become fast friends and, although Kate had ultimately decided on family medicine, they remained close. As soon as one of the offices had opened up in her building, Kate had called Victoria and told her to come check it out.
For Victoria, it was love at first sight. The five-story white stucco building was perfect, and the small office on the top floor was the icing on the cake. The space was small since the fifth story was divided into two areas, the other reserved for some use dictated by the owner. It was the perfect size to venture out on her own, and she’d signed the lease less than a week later.
The first six months had been difficult. A handful of patients had followed Victoria, but like most who attended counseling, several stayed for only a few sessions before moving on or giving up. Victoria spent the first few months trying to drum up business while running the office alone. She was almost at the end of her rop
e when she’d finally hired her receptionist, Phyllis. A cast off from the building, Phyllis had been let go after fifteen years of service to Dr. William Harbaugh, one of the most pretentious, supercilious men to ever walk the earth. She’d learned of his reputation within days of moving into the building, and she avoided the old curmudgeon at all costs.
Victoria had met Phyllis only a handful of times before that fateful day when they’d shared the elevator down to the lobby of the building. The older woman had a box of knickknacks tucked under one arm and a small potted palm in the other. Tear tracks marked her cheeks, and Victoria took pity on Phyllis, offering to buy her lunch at a nearby cafe. Two hours later, Victoria had a new receptionist and the right hand she never knew she was missing. She smiled at the thought. Phyllis ran a tight ship and kept everything running smoothly. She also wasn’t afraid to tell Victoria exactly what she thought, offering her opinions freely and without restraint.
A soft click of the door in the lobby heralded said receptionist’s arrival. Victoria waited patiently for the woman to make her way back and give her a running commentary of her morning, as she was wont to do. It didn’t take long. Phyllis breezed into Victoria’s office moments later and collapsed on the couch to her left, fanning her face dramatically.
“Lordy be, girl, did you see that slice of Heaven disguised as a man downstairs?”
Victoria tore her gaze away from her email and rolled her eyes. “I assume you’re referring to the arrogant jerk that the security company sent over this morning?”
“He seemed nice enough to me.” Phyllis lifted a pencil-thin brow at her. “Did you have a run-in with Mr. Sex on a Stick already?”
“No, he just seems like the type.”
Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her chair as Phyllis chattered on. In truth, she really had no idea why Mr. Lawson irked her so much. There was no one thing in particular that bothered her, just... him. He was arrogant, self-assured, and more handsome than any man had a right to be—and he knew it. But that wasn’t a crime. The more she thought about it, the more she was beginning to think she was just being extra sensitive. The guy would be here for a few weeks until the cops figured out who had murdered the girl downtown, then he would be on his way. Until then, she would just ignore him—and all of the unwelcome feelings he stirred within her.
“I’M TELLING YOU, SHE hates my guts.”
Con laughed. “What the hell did you do to her?”
Blake threw his hands in the air. “Why the hell do you assume it’s my fault? She literally walked through the door, sized me up, and then ripped me apart. She asked for my credentials, Con. Who the fuck is this woman?”
Con took a swig of beer and tipped his head. “Well, she did get a call from a killer just a few days ago. Maybe she’s still on edge, wants to make sure you’re legit. Can’t blame her for that.”
Blake nodded reluctantly. It was true, although he personally still thought the woman’s reaction was uncalled for. It was literally the last thing he’d expected.
As soon as she’d walked into the lobby, something had shifted. The sight of Victoria had driven the air from his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched in the gut. He'd recognized her immediately from the clip he and Con had watched the other night, only then she’d been in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt.
In person she was even more gorgeous, even in the ill-fitting suit meant to downplay what were surely mouth-watering curves beneath the bulky material.
She’d stopped in her tracks, and he’d been sure she’d felt it too—whatever the hell ‘it’ was. Her steel-gray eyes were devoid of makeup and he’d felt her gaze brush over his skin as surely as if she’d touched him. But the moment she’d stepped closer and he’d graced her with his usual charming smile, she’d lit into him with a vengeance. And now he was stuck working with her every day. Not that it would be a problem, of course. He was qualified for pretty much any situation life threw at him, and dealing with a self-righteous brunette didn’t even rank on his scale.
Besides, the woman really wasn’t his type. Beautiful, yes, but too buttoned up. She hid behind drab, dark clothes that hung shapelessly from her body and hair that’d been pulled ruthlessly away from her face in a style that reminded him of a nun—a very sexy nun, but the kind who rapped knuckles for the pure enjoyment of it. Maybe that was half the appeal, though. What he wouldn’t give to strip her out of those dreary clothes and see what really lay beneath.
The woman was naturally beautiful with her coffee-colored hair and sharp gray eyes that sliced through him, missing nothing. For some reason, though, she was dead set against him; if she ever caught wind of his attraction to her, she’d probably try to slap him with a sexual assault charge. He’d just have to put her out of his mind and treat her like the job she was. Four weeks and he’d be free of the Ice Queen.
Blake set his beer on the bar. “Pretty sure I felt my balls shrivel up out of self-preservation.”
Con scoffed. “How bad can she be? I saw her on the news after the murder. She seemed okay, and she’s nice enough to look at.”
“Just don’t be surprised if you get complaint from her. To say we got off on the wrong foot is an understatement.”
His boss and best friend sighed as he rolled the beer bottle between his hands. “If it’s that bad, I’ll try to find someone else. I want our first jobs to go as smoothly as possible, so it’s best if we can avoid any altercations. Xander will be stateside soon, but he has some shit to settle before he can come down here. I leave for D.C. on Monday, but I should be back by Thursday, Friday at the latest. If you can make it through this week without killing each other, I’ll take over when I get back. I’ll try to drum up another job for you in the meantime.”
Blake tipped his chin. “Appreciate it.”
It was probably better that way, even if he already regretted not being able to see her. Didn’t matter that she seemed to hate him, the little spitfire turned him on something fierce, and he wanted to fuck the anger and condescension right out of her until she melted into his arms.
“The workers installed the carpet today, so the furniture is scheduled to be delivered next week. Wanna stop by on your way home, pick out your office?”
Con’s words pulled him from his introspection, and he turned his attention back to his friend. “You giving me preferential treatment?”
He snorted. “I shouldn’t since I have to take over for you, watching some hot little piece of ass.”
Blake’s jaw tightened at his friend’s words, something akin to jealousy snaking through him. He ground his molars together and spoke through his teeth. “Just wait ‘til she tears you a new asshole.”
Con laughed. “Maybe she just needs a man to settle her down a bit.”
“Come on.” Irrational anger surged to the surface and Blake dropped his feet to the floor. “Let’s go check out my new office.”
Throwing an extra couple bucks down on the bar, he nodded at the bartender in her too-tight shirt and cut-off shorts, her long, lean legs enhanced by the fringed cowboy boots she wore. The woman winked at him, and Blake shot her a lazy smile. Worst case, looked like the pretty little bartender would be more than happy to share his bed. Why, then, couldn’t he get his mind off Dr. Carr?
Maybe because she was the first woman in a long time—maybe ever, truth be told—who hadn’t fallen into his arms at the sight of him. He wasn’t vain, but he knew he was a decent looking guy. If nothing else women loved a man in uniform, and he’d enjoyed a fair share of the bunnies who’d hung out in the bars around base. But Dr. Carr was the furthest thing from a groupie. She was obviously smart and driven, and she didn’t put up with shit, not even from a former Marine wielding a panty-melting grin.
They walked out of the bar and headed east toward the industrial section of town where the building was located. Con’s voice cut through the silence. “So, what’s the real story?”
“What story?”
“With the broad. I’ve seen you with women, so wh
at’s different about this one?”
“I told you, she hates me.”
“I’m calling bullshit. Why do you want out so bad?”
Blake shoved his hands in his pockets. “She bit my head off before I’d even introduced myself. She’s hot but...”
“You give her that stupid smile?”
Blake turned to his friend. “What smile?”
“That same asinine smile you just gave the bartender. The one that has woman falling over themselves to get to you.”
Blake wisely remained silent and Con shook his head. “I’m going to guess that’s a yes. She’s smart, right?” He didn’t give Blake the chance to respond. “She’s probably used to fighting her way to the top, and there’s nothing worse than being undermined by some guy who thinks he’s hot shit.”
Blake started to protest, but Con held up a hand. “You have sisters, don’t you?” At Blake’s nod, Con continued. “Just like with Abby—I want the best for her, someone who will always be around when she needs him.”
Blake stared at his friend for a moment. “I’m putting down some roots here. Not like we’ll be overseas anymore.”
“No,” Con agreed, “but we’ll always follow the job, whenever and wherever we’re needed. It’s what we do. Dr. Carr strikes me as the type of woman who needs stability. Do us both a favor and cut her loose before anyone gets hurt.”
Easier said than done, Blake thought as they approached the warehouse. There was something about her that drew him in. Despite their encounter yesterday, she intrigued him. Maybe Con had a point. Did he want a relationship? He’d spent the past dozen years chasing the newest adrenaline rush, warming a woman’s bed for a night or two before moving on. He hadn’t had a chance to form any kind of real attachment—not that it bothered him in the least. He did his own thing, came and went as he pleased. But he thought of his parents, now going on their thirty-eighth wedding anniversary. Things hadn’t been perfect growing up, but he’d always admired them. They’d made it through plenty of tough times with himself and his two sisters, and they were probably more in love with each other now than they were thirty years ago. Maybe someday he’d like to do the same—find a nice girl to settle down with, someone who could put up with him and his crazy family.
