Rank: Lighthouse Security Investigations Series

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Rank: Lighthouse Security Investigations Series Page 10

by Maryann Jordan


  They disconnected and she stared at the papers in front of her. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but her mind drifted to the man coming to see her. Standing, she left her office and headed to the small bathroom. Running a brush through her hair, she reapplied her lip gloss. As she walked out, she wondered what she was doing. It’s not like this is a date. He’s just coming to get the information that I found.

  She walked to the front lobby and sat at Anna’s desk, deciding to wait for him there. Well, it might not be a date, but I can certainly enjoy the eye candy while he’s here.

  Rank placed a call, barely waiting for Walker to pick up before he began. “Heading to Helena’s office. She came across something about Kozlov. I’m going to convince her to have dinner with me to keep her away from her place. Can you get a team in to throw security on the exterior of her home? We’ll get eyes on her office later. If Frank is working with Kozlov and he dragged Helena into the mess with him, we both know she’s too curious for her own good. I sense trouble.”

  “No problem, man,” Walker assured. “I’ll take care of her home right away and we can go back to her office later tonight.”

  After giving his unnecessary thanks, he disconnected, pressing harder on the accelerator, anxious to get to her.

  11

  “You can see why this is probably nothing,” Helena said. She had the papers spread out on her desk and was pointing at the notation of A. Kozlov. “After I called you, I began to feel rather foolish—”

  “No, don’t think that,” Rank cut her off, looking up from the paper and catching her eye. They were leaning shoulder to shoulder, bent over the forms, which put their faces within about a foot of one another. Gaze flicking to her lips and back for a second, he battled the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but decided that might not be the best course of action. Instead, he straightened and added, “A lot of times in investigations, it’s the smallest thing that can make a difference.”

  He tried not to get distracted by the innocent look on her face or her thick, glossy hair hanging over her shoulder. Or what those heeled boots were doing to her legs and ass with the way she was bent over. The things he would like to do to her on that desk…

  Clearing his throat, he took a step back and wiped his hand over his jaw. Standing upright, she faced him fully and held his gaze, her green eyes wide and filled with a mixture of curiosity and doubt.

  After a moment of silence as she assessed him, during which he tried not to squirm, thinking she had somehow gained the power to read minds and knew all the dirty things he was currently imagining, she said slowly, “I just don’t want to be the reason that someone is investigated. Certainly not Frank. He’s been a good friend to my parents for a long time and I don’t want word to get out that I was giving this information to just anybody.”

  Regaining his professionalism in the face of her honesty, he walked to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing. Looking straight into her eyes, he said, “This information isn’t going out to just anybody, Helena. Think of it this way—if Frank is dealing with someone who might be involved in illegal activities, he will eventually need to know that.”

  Nodding, she said, “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it that way.” She offered him a lopsided smile before looking back down at the papers strewn across her desk.

  “It’s getting late, so why don’t we collect all this paperwork and take it with us. I’d like to take you to dinner and, then, we can find a private place to talk.”

  Her eyebrows lifted toward her hairline as she said, “That’s rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  Grinning, he explained, “Look, we both have to eat, so there’s no reason not to have dinner together. I don’t want to leave these papers around, so we should take them with us. And we don’t want to talk about too much in public at dinner, so we really should go somewhere so that we can go over them more in detail.”

  A chuckle slipped from her lips as she shook her head back and forth. “You are really smooth, Rank. But, I am hungry and can’t think of a reason why we shouldn’t go eat.”

  Incredibly relieved and more than a little bit excited, he bent forward and kissed the top of her head, mumbling, “Thank you.”

  As he pulled away, he caught the smile on her face and the blush tinting her cheeks before she quickly turned and began gathering the papers into the file. Lips quirking, he gave himself a mental high five. She was not as disinterested as she had claimed. Helping her to finish gathering the documents, she took the file from him and placed it into her slender briefcase.

  Grabbing her purse, she turned to him and declared, “Ready.”

  He held his arm out and said, “After you,” and they made their way out the door.

  After she locked up, she faced him and explained, “I don’t want to leave my car here overnight.”

  Seeing her point, he nodded his agreement, but hated that she would not be riding with him. “Then you drive, and I’ll follow.” When they reached her car, he gave the directions to the restaurant he had picked out and then watched as she got in and started the ignition. “Wait until I pull up behind you to leave.”

  She nodded and he jogged to his SUV, following close behind her all the way to the restaurant.

  At the hostess desk, he asked for a private booth and was pleased as they were escorted to one near the back. Once settled, with their orders taken, he allowed himself a moment to revel in the beautiful woman sitting next to him.

  A blush slid across her face, no doubt in response to the wide smile he was currently aiming her way, and she asked, “What are you staring at?”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman in this restaurant and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough that you’re here with me.”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “You’re a flirt…and a practiced one at that. You’re also a goof.”

  Rearing back, he dropped his jaw in mock surprise, placing his hand over his chest. “Me? I’m a goof?”

  “I notice you didn’t deny being a flirt!”

  “Hey, who’s the one who dropped from the sky, landing on top of someone?”

  Dropping her head into her hands, she moaned, “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

  “Nope. Hate to tell you this, but that’s going to stay with us forever.”

  They smiled at each other, the silence easy and comforting. Finally, he said, “Tell me more about Helena Jernigan.”

  “Like what?”

  “What you do? I kind of got an idea from what you were explaining earlier this evening in your office, but I don’t really know exactly what you do.”

  She scrunched her nose, and said, “It’s not all that interesting.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Oh, I love it,” she enthused, her eyes sparkling.

  “Then tell me. I want to know all about you.”

  He expected her to resist, call him out for ending their first date so suddenly again but, instead, after scanning his face with careful consideration and, hopefully, seeing the honesty there, she held his gaze and said, “In a nutshell, I go through applications of nonprofit organizations and charities and try to match them with people or companies who would like to make donations.”

  He tilted his head to the side, a little disappointed. She hadn’t given him any more information than he already knew. “Tell me more. Like how you got into this and why you love it so.”

  Her face softened and she relaxed before him, letting her walls down just a bit. “I was named after my grandmother, Helen.” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully, then continued, “She and her husband were fortunate enough to be able to support several favorite charities. In her younger days, she would organize large banquets and invite wealthy people to buy tickets to come. Of course, the tickets were quite expensive, but the money would go to charity. Well, that is, after some was used for caterers, venues, musicians, and alcohol. When I was younger, I loved to help he
r organize the events. By the time I became a college student, I looked at the lavish, black-tie events and wondered about the need for all of that.”

  “Need?” he asked.

  She fiddled with her napkin, and said, “It seemed so pretentious. I once asked my grandmother, if all of these people have enough money that they can afford a thousand dollars per plate at these extravagant dinners, then why couldn’t they just give the money to the charities?”

  His heart warmed at her selflessness. She was most definitely not the woman he had expected her to be. “And what did your grandmother say?”

  “I loved my grandmother dearly, but I felt like she was stuck in doing things the way she had for so many years. She simply told me that wealthy people not only wanted to give money to charities for tax benefits, but they loved the chance to dress up and feel like they were participating in something.”

  “I think you had a good point,” he said, admiring her even more for her incredulity at such a notion that people with money wanted to show it off.

  “My father owns his own business and wanted me to major in business and join him. Even though I got a degree in business and marketing, I never cared for working in that career. It was actually right as I was graduating that the idea for my own business came to mind. You see, my grandmother was dying and I spent as much time with her as I could. I was not only her namesake, but she was a great influence on me.”

  Her eyes grew distant as memories passed through her mind. After a moment, her lips curved in a slight smile and he was glad she had those pleasant thoughts of her grandmother to hang on to.

  “She had been in the process of organizing an event when she became too ill to finish it. I told her that I would be more than happy to take on the responsibility myself, but she just looked at me and shook her head. She told me that she finally agreed with what I said, that the large events were terribly pretentious and that it would make much more sense if I would just take the money that was being donated and go through the list of charities that she had vetted and give to them.”

  She had been shredding her napkin for most of her story and he reached over and placed his hand on hers, stilling her fingers. “You don’t have to be nervous with me. You can tell me anything.”

  She licked her lips before lifting her eyes to his. “I know it seems weird, to be thirty years old and still feel that I disappointed my father by not going into the business of making money. But, for me, I just found that I wanted to continue my grandmother’s good work, doing it in a way that kept the money where it should be—with those who need it, not filling my coffers with more money. I’m afraid that’s something he just doesn’t understand.” Meeting his soft smile with one of her own, she said, “So, that’s how my business began. It’s a tribute to my grandmother, but just doing it my way.”

  “Are you estranged from your parents?” he asked, without releasing her hand.

  Her green eyes popped open wide and she rushed, “My goodness, no. We’re close, but it’s just that I know he would have rather me joined him in his company. There are no siblings to take over for him.”

  “Only child, huh?” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “Why mess with perfection, right?”

  Laughing, she took her hand out from under his and shook her head. “Always with the one liners.”

  “Never a line,” he promised, looking her dead in the eye. “Always the truth.”

  She held his gaze for a moment and something passed between them. Something huge and real and, he hoped to God, something she felt too.

  Changing the subject, she cleared her throat and said, “So what are you thinking? About all this, I mean. Frank…” She lowered her voice and added, “Kozlov.”

  He countered with a question of his own. “What can you tell me about Frank Tercelli?”

  “What do you want to know?” she asked, her brows lowering in uncertainty.

  “Anything. How you know him. What you know about him. Anything.”

  Scrunching her face, she thought about her answer while he fought the urge to rub his fingers between her brows to smooth the tension. “I can’t say that I know him well, but I’ve known him most of my life. I know that my dad and he have played golf. Not a lot, but they have been in the same social settings. Thomas, his son, and I were at the same high school and we became friends. Once we went to college, I only saw him occasionally.”

  “Is he someone you’ve dealt with before, matching up donations and charities?”

  Shaking her head, she replied, “Not really. My dad and Frank played golf once last month and Dad mentioned to me afterwards that Frank was interested in what I was doing. He suggested that I call Frank and see if there was anything he could do for my charities.”

  He thought about that as their food arrived, interrupting their conversation. The small Italian restaurant had excellent cuisine and they soon began sharing their meals. He loaded his fork to take a huge bite when she moaned, snagging his attention. Eyes jumping to her, she slowly pulled her fork from her mouth, savoring the bite of his chicken parmesan.

  “So good!” she murmured, poking another piece and placing it in her mouth. As her lips closed tightly around the fork, he tried to think of anything to keep his thoughts away from the desire to have her lips closed around part of his anatomy. Gulping, while he tried to discretely adjust his hard-on, he watched her lips move but he did not hear a thing.

  She tilted her head and called louder, “Rank?”

  Mumbling, slowly coming back to reality, he lifted his drink and said, “Sorry. What was that?”

  She laughed, and said, “You had such a look on your face. You must really be enjoying your meal.”

  Nearly choking on his beer, he coughed while clearing his throat. “Yeah, I am enjoying the meal. It tastes great…” he trailed off, trying not to imagine how she would taste.

  “What I said was, tell me about you. I can tell from your accent that you’re not from here.”

  Shaking his head, a wide grin covered his face. “North Carolina, born and bred. My parents are still there in the hometown where they met. I’ve lost my grandparents, but they were all right there in the same town, too.”

  “Were you an only child, like me?”

  “Nope. I’m the oldest of three. My younger brother, Richard, is currently a SEAL, and my younger sister, Carol, is a civilian working for the U.S. Navy.”

  Her eyes widened and she met his smile with one of her own. “I can tell just from the way you’re speaking that your family is close.”

  Nodding, he agreed. “My siblings and I used to fuss and fight all the time when we were younger, but we’re as close as can be now. My brother’s serving in an undisclosed location and my sister is at the naval base in Norfolk, Virginia. I know my parents worry about us, but we all get home together whenever we can.”

  “What about being an investigator. How did you get into that?”

  He chewed slowly, buying time before answering as he pondered her question and what his response would be. He never talked about his work. There never was an occasion to really, his closest friends being his fellow Keepers. He sure as hell never talked about his work with any of the women he went out with. Granted, none of them had any staying power longer than a night. Swallowing his bite, he looked at her expectant face, her guileless gaze penetrating his.

  Suddenly, the desire to let her in, to really be with her in a way he had never been with anyone was overwhelming. “I was a SEAL.” He watched as questions moved through her eyes, her brow marred with a slight wrinkle.

  “I’m impressed,” she admitted, “although I don’t know very much about that other than what I’ve read in the news.” Grinning, she said, “That makes you the toughest and best, right?”

  He threw his head back in laughter, saying, “I’m not sure my friends who were former Special Forces, Rangers, or Deltas would agree, but as far as I’m concerned, you’d be right.”

  “So you went from being a SEAL to an investig
ator?”

  He shrugged, and continued, “Not directly. I was in Afghanistan and got tasked to be part of a special team that was even more clandestine than my SEAL team. They needed my skill set and I learned a lot from them as well.”

  She reached over and placed her hand on his arm and gave a little squeeze. “I’m not naïve. I realize that we’ve entered an area that you can’t discuss. That’s okay, I’m not offended.”

  He smiled at her understanding and nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. But, I’m out now and was hired to be an investigator in a private security business. While it’s not clandestine, I’m afraid I can’t talk about our work either.”

  Giving his arm another squeeze, she held his gaze. “Are you happy? Do you like what you’re doing?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he emphasized, drawing a giggle from her. “Sorry, that was rather coarse.”

  “Don’t apologize. I love your enthusiasm. That’s kind of how I feel about my job, although, it’s not nearly as exciting as yours. For me, it’s not about making money but enjoying the life I have and helping others.”

  He looked down at where her hand rested on his arm, unable to ignore the warmth or tingles it elicited. Lifting his gaze to hers, he watched her eyes dilate and heard her breath hitch. He knew she felt it too. Whatever it was, they both felt it.

  “Would you like dessert?”

  They both startled, releasing each other and sitting back, neither having seen the server approach. He could not believe that he had lost his focus so much that he was approached unaware. Looking at Helena in wonderment, he realized that for that space of time, she was the only thing in his sight. She caught his gaze and held it, a slight smile curving her lips.

  Shaking her head, she turned to the waiter and answered, “No. I’m full.”

 

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