Charlotte dared to grip his arm. He turned toward her, keeping the outside view in his peripheral vision.
“I’m getting intel from my team in this”—he tapped his earpiece—“and I’ll pass it on when I know something definite. In the meantime, I need to focus.” Something that was impossible with Charlotte touching him. As he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, her hand dropped and he could breathe again. “Saint?”
“Yeah?”
“Send the camera feeds to my cell as he moves.”
“Got it.”
To Charlotte, he said, “I’ll be able to see what they see here.” He clicked his phone on and navigated to the app that allowed him to live stream the security cameras Saint had connected him to. “See?”
Charlotte focused in on the screen as he returned his attention outside. A minute later a figure in brown and green camo darted from the woods in a direct line toward Ruth’s cottage. “He’s on the move.”
Saint and Dain both acknowledged the intel, though they could also see it on their screens in the office.
“He’s coming in?” From the sound of cloth rustling, King assumed Kim was standing, ready to cross to them, but he couldn’t have a crowd at the window.
“Kim, please, wait there with Becky.” He spared a few seconds to give her a reassuring look before returning his focus to the man sprinting across the yard. “You’re safe. We know what we’re doing.”
No further arguments came. King watched the figure reach Ruth’s rooms, but he didn’t stop. A stone path led from the pool house to the back entrance of the mansion, a hallway directly between the kitchen and walk-in pantry. It was the only door typically left open for easy access as Ruth came and went during the day. His team had encouraged Ruth to continue the practice, with extra cameras in the area to keep watch. At this time of day, Ruth would be in the kitchen beginning preparations for dinner—the intruder must know that, which was why he hadn’t bothered with caution as he passed her place. Dain would have Ruth and Ben with him now, so there was no worry that the intruder would sneak up on Ruth in the kitchen.
“He knew that door would probably be open,” Elliot murmured in his ear.
“He knows a fucking lot,” Dain agreed. Like the weakest point of the perimeter. And Ruth’s routine.
“Confirms our suspicions,” King agreed.
“What suspicions?” Charlotte asked.
He started to explain but stopped when the view on his cell shifted to inside the house. The back door cracked open silently, a cap-covered head peeking in before the intruder eased through. His quick glance up told King he was looking for cameras.
Too bad for him, Saint’s little toys weren’t detectable at a glance. But the cameras saw him—and got a shot of his face before he ducked back down to focus on traveling the length of the hall.
Saint popped the still onto King’s texts. “Familiar?” King asked Charlotte.
She eyed the white face beneath the cap. The finer features were blurred, but there was enough to get an impression of eye and mouth shapes, jawline, and dark hair beneath the edges of the cap. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “Saint will clean it up and send it to some of our contacts for possible identification.”
“He’s inside the house,” she hissed quietly.
“We know. We planned for this.”
“Is the team there?”
“Not exactly.” Saint was on the move, headed for a rendezvous point with one of the support members JCL had sent, and the rest of the team was ready to move in right behind him. King was upstairs, and Elliot would stay with Ruth and Ben while Dain and another JCL guard provided backup for Saint if necessary.
“What do you mean, not exactly?” King had to force back a grin when he saw Charlotte’s foot lift, looking as if she’d stomp it in frustration. She controlled the move just enough to set it down gently after a hasty glance at Becky. “He’s in the house. How are you going to stop him?”
“Stopping him isn’t the plan,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear.
“Why?”
“Charlotte…”
“Don’t Charlotte me!”
No way could Becky and Kim miss that sentence. They jumped up from the couch and hurried over. He sighed.
“King?”
Becky’s trembling voice and the way her hand shook against her belly had his heart aching when he needed to be focused. “The objective isn’t to stop him,” he explained again.
“Why ever not?” Kim asked.
“Because we learn more from letting him go.” The screen on his phone split, showing two camera feeds, one from the hallway where the intruder was reaching the far end, one from the hall at the back of the house that connected to the man’s current location. He tilted his hand so all three women could view the video. “Notice that he doesn’t seem uncertain where he’s going? He ran straight for the back entrance of the house—the only one left unlocked during the day, which is probably why he’s here now and not after dark—and walked right in with barely any hesitation. He moved straight down the hall, not into the kitchen. And he kept his head down when he passed the kitchen entry, which means he knows there was a camera located there. He protected his face so we couldn’t track him.” Or so the man thought. “He might guess you have extra security here right now, but he’s not worried about a full-out battle based on the limited weapons he’s carrying, so he’s not here to take you or Becky today.”
Surprise lightened Charlotte’s stormy gaze. “Then why is he here?”
“Reconnaissance, most likely. They want to know what they’re up against.”
“And you’re trying not to let them know too much,” she mused.
This time King let his grin out. “Exactly.”
The man on the screen eased the door open. A quick flash of his face showed on the second screen, and then Saint and his partner appeared, rounding the corner to stalk down the hall. They didn’t pause at the cracked door but kept walking, giving the intruder a good look. The pair rounded the far end, and seconds later the sound of a walkie-talkie crackling came through. JCL teams didn’t carry walkies—too noisy; earbuds were the superior choice—but the noise occasionally came in handy.
“Intruder detected at rear of house.”
The intruder’s head cocked on the video, but he didn’t startle, didn’t hurry. He didn’t move until Dain and another guard entered the hall at the opposite end of where Saint and his partner reappeared, and the two teams moved in on the door to the kitchen hallway.
Still, as King watched, the man moved with confidence and stealth back to the outer door, then slipped outside. He retraced his steps to the rear of the property. Saint and his partner followed only after he was out of sight, keeping the intruder in the dark as to their knowledge of him but continuing to herd him off the property nonetheless.
“He knows about the house now. Isn’t that dangerous?” Kim asked.
King clicked his phone off and pocketed it. “We want him to. We want him to take the information that you all are well-protected by a large team back to his boss and hopefully discourage them from a full-on attack. This was what we call a soft entry, an information gathering mission. We don’t want them coming back.”
Charlotte blew out a breath, her hand coming up to rub at the crease between her brows. “So he’ll attack us somewhere else?”
“We’ll find them before that happens,” King assured her.
Charlotte didn’t seem convinced. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know my team,” he assured her. “And we now have a lot of information about the group that’s coming after you.”
“Like what?” Becky asked.
“We know the people buying the baby likely don’t have a personal connection to you. Neither of you recognized the intruder.”
“But he knew our location.” Charlotte worried her bottom lip. King clamped down on the urge to free it with a
calloused finger.
“He did, but he wasn’t aware of the new security measures. Which means we need to get to Creating Families and dig in.” He braced himself, knowing the next sentence wouldn’t reassure Charlotte. “The group buying the baby doesn’t know you personally, but the person selling? The one giving them intel? That person definitely knows you and your family, and we need to find them ASAP.”
Chapter Fourteen
Elliot was not getting a cookie the next time Charlotte handed them out. Or ice cream either. The woman had deliberately passed Charlotte over to King without so much as a protest. Not that Charlotte could expect her to protest, really. Elliot had no idea that Charlotte had kissed her teammate yesterday before all hell broke loose with their intruder.
She certainly didn’t know that kiss had kept Charlotte up all night long.
Elliot was supposed to be the one to drive her into town to visit Creating Families. Unfortunately after yesterday’s visitor, Becky was understandably nervous and had insisted Elliot stay. Charlotte wasn’t going to argue with that—Becky deserved every ounce of security they could give her, and if keeping Elliot with her instead of one of the men meant safety in her mind, so be it. But King?
Pull up your big girl panties, Charlotte.
She rolled her eyes at herself. Yeah, big girl panties were all she needed to walk into that foyer and face the man she’d been all over yesterday. That and a can of invisibility spray.
Of course, if she didn’t hurry up, her mother was going to appear at any moment to waylay Charlotte about what she’d seen yesterday. Only the chaos of last night had kept her away this long. Charlotte had no desire to discuss her mistake with her mother. If she went with King, she could delay the inevitable.
She closed her eyes and forced her feet forward.
King’s presence hit her even before she stepped onto the parquet floor. He stood with his back to her, hands in his pockets, seeming completely relaxed. She’d thought at first that he had zero reaction to seeing her again after all these years, after all the emotion they had shared. But after that kiss…she might not have a ton of experience with men, but she had plenty with King, and he couldn’t hide the need his body had so clearly displayed. No, maybe it wasn’t so much indifference as it was a cover. That’s what bodyguards did, right? Kept a cool facade so they could focus on the job at hand?
Still, the fact that his mask hid his inner thoughts so effectively bruised her heart, especially after yesterday. She hungered for the man who’d held her so tight she could barely breathe, not the man casually waiting for her to show herself now.
Squaring her shoulders, she cleared her throat and plunged forward. “Good morning. Ready to go?”
King pivoted, the sunlight filtering through the front windows turning his blonde hair to a golden halo. Eyes hidden in shadow latched on to her—she could feel their intensity; she didn’t have to see it. And yes, she was fully aware of her own contradictions. She’d give anything not to be stuck alone with him in a car for a fixed amount of time, and yet something inside her preened beneath his attention.
Ugh.
“Morning,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “The car’s just outside.”
The car turned out to be the electric-blue sports car she’d noticed when she arrived home from the hospital. And it came with a second body, thank God. Saint’s muscular form leaned against the passenger door but straightened when he noticed their approach. “Are you sure I can’t drive?” he asked, the pitch of his voice like a little boy asking for a treat.
“You’re lucky I let you pull it out of the garage,” King responded dryly.
Saint winked at Charlotte as he opened the front passenger-side door. “King is territorial when it comes to this baby.” He closed the door behind her and slid into the back.
With her very first breath, Charlotte absorbed the scent of King’s aftershave, the same scent she’d filled her lungs with as he thrust his tongue into her mouth yesterday. She pulled her sunglasses from her head to cover her eyes and reaction as King rounded the car to take the driver’s seat.
He hadn’t missed Saint’s dig. “I like nice things,” he said, and she swore she heard defensiveness in the words. Did his teammates tease him often? It sounded like Saint did, at least. “I like my nice things to stay nice.”
“I can keep things nice,” Saint protested.
“Tell that to my last office chair.”
Charlotte laughed. Saint grumbled behind her, but the thread of amusement in his voice told her he wasn’t offended.
“I feel pretty important with two escorts to the office,” she said, trying to keep the light mood going.
“You are important,” King said.
A sharp glance revealed his mask of indifference was back in place. Of course she was important; she was the link to Becky. There was nothing personal about King’s words.
She really did need to get back to the office, and not only to help with the investigation. Much as the low throb of pain that kept making reappearances in her head made her want to go back to bed, there were loose ends that had been left trailing in her absence, things that couldn’t wait. And she couldn’t hand over client files to Dain’s team even if she wanted to. Confidential information was confidential for a reason. She’d just have to wrangle her headache and do the reading herself.
But painkillers meant no driving for her. Not to mention the whole “someone might be trying to kidnap you” thing.
King’s sure grip on the wheel directed them out the gate and onto the narrow road leading toward the highway. Charlotte shifted slightly in her seat, let her gaze go a bit unfocused to try and distract from their direction, the knowledge that they had to pass the spot where she’d almost died. Maybe after a few hundred times it wouldn’t bother her anymore—and maybe once she had the wheel again, she’d take the twenty-five-minute-longer loop to avoid ever rounding that bend in the road again.
Whether King noticed her discomfort or not, he handed her a lifeline by asking the question, “Tell us about Creating Families. How did it start?”
She’d talked to Elliot about this, but maybe King’s teammate hadn’t included the details in her notes? And then there were the things she hadn’t shared with Elliot. Things King never needed to know about.
“I had a roommate in college who got pregnant,” she finally said. It was a simple story with a simple ending, but the impact on her life had been profound. “Her boyfriend dumped her and her parents tried to force her to get an abortion, but she felt like that was the wrong choice for her. She decided to adopt, and watching her walk through that process…” Charlotte shook her head. “Young women have their entire lives derailed by pregnancy. Then they go through the extreme physical changes, the pain of giving their babies up or trying to care for them on their own, while rebuilding their lives without resources or options. I wanted to change that.
“I had a business degree,” she continued. “And what was I going to do with it? Make more money that I didn’t need? Why not leverage my privilege to help others?”
King murmured an agreement, and she realized her explanation had come close to his own reasons for leaving his family behind. He’d needed to serve, and he’d sacrificed everything, including her, to do so. She hadn’t made nearly the same sacrifices, but when she looked at her life, she was proud of what she’d accomplished. Not a pile of unnecessary wealth or useless flattery, but lives she’d enriched in the best ways she knew how.
The men peppered her with questions about the way CF functioned, and before she knew it, they were pulling up to the discreet offices in Marietta that housed the organization. King was trained to read people, situations, settings. What did he read about her from looking at her work? From seeing the discreet sign with its line drawing of a baby cradled in a flower? The comfortable couches in the warm reception area—no hard chairs or clinical atmosphere. They’d worked hard to make this place relaxed and encouraging. Could he tell h
ow personal this all was for her?
Her right-hand woman smiled sweetly behind the wide oak desk at the back of the reception room.
“Vicky—”
“Charlotte!” Her friend was around the desk and grabbing Charlotte to her chest before Charlotte could blink. “We’ve been so worried about you!”
“Can’t. Breathe.” Charlotte made her words breathier than they actually were, grinning.
Vicky backed off, laughing. “Sorry! I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
Her team had been told about the accident and its relation to their work. “I’m fine.” Well, maybe not fine. More like confused, overwhelmed, and still achy, but she could manage. That was all that mattered. She returned Vicky’s hug before gesturing to the two men accompanying her. “This is King Moncrief and Saint Solorio. They’re…”
King offered his hand. “Ms. Alexander’s bodyguards.”
Vicky’s raised brow said she’d let both men guard her body anytime despite the slight roundness of her pregnant belly that clearly said she was taken. Charlotte suppressed an amused grin. “Would you mind taking them on a tour of the office?” She could use a break from constantly watching every word and move around her ex-fiancé, not to mention thinking about that kiss at the most inopportune times.
“Of course I can.” Vicky grinned Saint’s way.
“I’ll let Saint accompany you,” King said. “You’ll understand if I stay with Ms. Alexander.”
Charlotte barely held back a groan. Maybe King could go on the tour and Saint could come with her? But one glance at King’s face told her that was a no-go. Might as well pick her battles.
“Right.” She smiled in Vicky’s direction. “Have fun.” And without waiting she led the way to her office.
The room designated as hers was the same size as all the other offices at CF. She’d painted it a soothing cool blue—nothing like King’s eyes, like at all. She resisted glancing at him to assure herself she was right and instead strode straight toward a filing cabinet in the corner. “What do I need to look for first?”
Deny Me Page 9
