Aegis Security 02 - Sinful Surrender

by Elisabeth Naughton

  He shook his head. But his eyes… They were definitely interested.

  Thoughts pinged around in Grace’s mind. And every dirty one involving him, and her, a length of rope, and a blindfold. Warm liquid seemed to spread all through her lower body. Suddenly the thought of him tying her up and doing all those naughty things to her didn’t sound so bad.

  Arousal speared through her body, making her thighs burn with the need to feel him everywhere. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to the edge of his cold lips. “I think you could be trouble for me, Brian Walker.”

  He turned his head and captured her mouth so quickly, so possessively, she groaned. His tongue slipped past her lips, scraping over her teeth as he took a deep, electrifying taste. Her muscles loosened. She sank into his kiss. Forgot about the snow and how cold her nose was and the fact there were people on the slopes all around them. She only wanted more. More of him.

  She was panting by the time he pulled back.

  “Grace,” he said softly, those deep blue eyes gazing into hers, making her feel like he was looking all the way into her soul. “I really like you. More than I expected. And I want you to know I didn’t plan this. I never should have talked to you in the bar last night, but I couldn’t help myself. You’re just… You’re not at all what I expected. You…dazzle me. You really do. And I haven’t been dazzled in a very long time. I forgot what it was like.”

  His words caused Grace’s internal fires to flip to Sizzle. Her lips curved, and she lifted her mouth back to his. “You dazzle me too, Brian. More than you know.”

  Snow swished close by as Grace was pressing her mouth against Brian’s again. Laughter floated in the air, and muffled voices echoed around her. Abruptly, Brian pulled away.

  “What did you say?” he called, twisting to look down the hill.

  Two twenty-something snowboarders had stopped ten feet from them, Grace realized. The one wearing a red cap looked their direction.

  “You didn’t hear about it?” he called. “Cops are all over the resort. Someone broke into a couple of the rooms. Dude, it’s like CSI down there. Fucking cool.”

  The two snowboarders took off, and Brian was on his feet before Grace even saw him move. He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up. “Come on.”

  “Wh—” Grace wobbled but found her balance. Brian handed her the poles she’d dropped and bent to fix his binding. “Why the rush?”

  “I want to check out what’s happening down there.”

  That dark look was back in his eyes. She frowned as she brushed the snow off her jacket and ski pants, perplexed by his shift in mood. One second he’d been flirting with her, making her think about all kinds of naughty, X-rated scenarios, and the next he was acting like it was the furthest thing from his mind.

  He took off down the hill, made a turn, and looked back at her. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Grace’s frown deepened. Yeah, unfortunately she was, but not in the way she wanted.

  * * *

  Brian had a bad feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. And if there was one thing he’d learned to trust over the years, it was that feeling, because it had kept him alive in some pretty shitty situations.

  They stepped off the elevator on Grace’s floor, and that feeling jumped tenfold when she saw the collection of police officers halfway down the hall. He leaned close to Grace. “Stay behind me.”

  “That’s my room they’re in,” Grace exclaimed, not listening.

  She moved in front of him, but he caught her by the hand and pulled her back. “Let me find out what’s going on.”

  She nodded, but he could see in her eyes that she didn’t like handing over control.

  He approached the closest officer and explained who they were. The man nodded, then turned and yelled, “Hey, Charlie. The guest is here.”

  Seconds later, another man, this one dressed in a suit, with salt-and-pepper hair, stepped out of the open door. “Grace Ryder?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” Grace said, tugging off her coat. “What happened in my room?”

  “The maid came by and found the room in shambles. The one directly above your suite and the one right below were also vandalized.”

  Grace wrapped her arms around her coat and tried to look past the detective into the room. “Can I go in?”

  “Yeah. We were hoping you would. We need you to look around and tell us if anything’s missing. Careful what you touch.”

  Grace nodded. But as the detective stepped back and Grace moved forward, Brian saw the worry in her eyes, and the fear. And that hum in his blood, the one that told him he’d missed something when he’d been drooling all over her last night, amped up another notch.

  Grace moved ahead of him and muttered, “Oh my God.”

  Brian’s feet drew to a stop in the middle of the living room, and a sinking feeling consumed him as he glanced around. This wasn’t just a random break-in. Someone had trashed the place. Every piece of furniture was overturned. Every drawer open, every cushion tossed and slashed. Picture frames that had once hung on the walls lay in piles of broken glass, lamps were shattered, the curtains along the sliding glass door were hanging askew and shredded, and her guitar—the one she’d used to play him that song—was nothing but a pile of busted wood.

  Ryder’s worry that someone was after Grace wasn’t just paranoia. It was real. And the person who could do this kind of damage harbored more than just animosity toward the woman. They were consumed by hatred.

  From the direction of the bedroom, Grace yelped. Looking up, Brian realized she’d moved away from him when he’d been lost taking it all in. Every muscle in his body tensed, and he reached back for his gun, only to realize he’d left it in his room when he’d gone to grab his snow gear.

  The bedroom was more wrecked than the living room, and a few officers were milling around, gathering evidence. Grace came walking out of the master bathroom with a dripping ziplock bag wrapped around a blue-checked notebook. Stopping near the bed, Brian’s brow dropped low. “What is that?”

  “My book.” She tore the bag open, dropped it on the floor, and tugged the notebook out.

  “Where was it?”

  “In the toilet tank.”

  Confusion hit him square between the eyes. “You hid a notebook in the toilet before we left?”

  She flipped through the book. “I always hide anything of value in my hotel room. Something like this could happen.”

  There she went, surprising him again. She hadn’t hidden her laptop or her wallet or her jewelry or the keys to her car or anything a normal person would consider valuable. She’d hidden a ninety-nine-cent notebook.

  Her shoulders relaxed on a relieved sigh. “It’s all here. Whoever broke in didn’t find it.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I can breathe again.”

  He suddenly needed to know a whole lot more about what kind of threat was happening back at home. And what the hell she kept in that book.

  Turning away from her, he moved back out into the living room and spotted the detective who’d brought them in.

  He crossed the room, pulled his business card from his wallet, and handed it to the detective. “I’m Brian Walker. Private security for Ms. Ryder. I’m going to need to see the video surveillance from the hall.”

  The detective stared down at the card. “Aegis Security. I’ve heard of you.”

  Behind him, Grace gasped, and Brian knew he’d just royally fucked up everything between them, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. This was more important.

  “Ryder…” the detective said. “Ryder… She’s not related to Jake Ryder, the CEO of Aegis, is she?”

  “Sister,” Brian answered.

  The detective glanced past Brian to Grace behind him, and though she was quiet, Brian could all but feel her enraged stare boring into the back of his head. “Is there a situation here we should be aware of? I’m starting to think this wasn’t just a random break-in. The damage in this room is way more severe than the other two.”<
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  Brian wasn’t ready to share any info with the local cops yet. Not until he talked to Grace. And her brother. “Jake Ryder has more than a few enemies. His sister’s safety is his top priority.”

  The detective harrumphed, obviously knowing Brian wasn’t ready to divulge details. Turning away, he signaled another man in a suit standing near the door.

  The other man rushed over and shook Brian’s hand. “I’m Walt Siegfried, manager of the resort. We’re going to move you to one of the villas for the duration of your stay.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Grace said in a clipped tone, moving up on Brian’s right. “I’ve just decided it’s time to leave.”

  Brian glanced at her. Her jaw was hard, her shoulders tight, and she wasn’t daring to look his way, but he could tell by the way she was staring at the manager that she was pissed.

  The manager glanced to the detective. “Um…”

  “Ms. Ryder,” the detective said, zeroing in on Grace. “We’ve got a major storm moving in. Up to fourteen inches expected by morning. I-70’s already shut down west of here. If you leave now, you’re going to get caught in it. Let the hotel put you up in one of the villas while we sort all this out. Between your private detail here and the tighter security in the VIP villas, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

  A muscle ticked in Grace’s jaw, and she crossed her arms over the notebook plastered to her chest. “Fine. But I’m going there alone.”

  Brian grasped Grace at the elbow and gently tugged her away from the group. “Excuse us for a minute, would you, gentlemen?”

  Grace tried to yank her arm from his grip but he only held her tighter. He pulled her into the corner of the room and worked to keep his voice quiet when he said, “You can be pissed at me all you want, but be smart about how you do it.”

  Grace wriggled her arm free and crossed her arms over her chest again, careful not to make eye contact. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

  “Yes, you are. And after this”—he nodded toward the demolished room—“you’re not going anywhere without me. Tomorrow you can call whoever you want and get someone else in here to watch over you, but tonight I’m here to make sure nothing happens to you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. So get used to it.”

  He moved away from her, knowing he was leaving her seething, but pushed it from his mind. When he reached the detective again, he nodded toward the resort manager. “We’ll take that villa.”

  “Perfect.” The manager pulled a two-way radio from his belt. “I’ll make sure it’s all set up for you.”

  As the manager moved toward the hall, Brian focused on the detective again. “Now, about those surveillance tapes.”

  “We’ll get you what we can,” the detective answered. “But so far it looks like the break-in happened from the patio. Come over here and let me show you.”

  He followed the detective to the sliding glass door, and behind him heard Grace huff and drop to sit on one of the only unbroken chairs in the room. He knew she was mad, and she had every right to be, but right now the only thing that mattered was keeping her safe. Something he should have been thinking about long before this.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jake Ryder was a dead man. But he’d have to get in line and wait, because Grace had plans to kill Brian Walker first.

  Standing in the middle of the marble bathroom in the villa the hotel had given her, Grace pressed both hands against her forehead. The room spun, and her stomach felt like it was about to hurl up what little she’d eaten today. She couldn’t believe what a complete idiot she’d been. Brian had lied to her. Seduced her. Then fucked her. All for what? To get close to her because her brother had ordered him to? She was nothing but a stupid job to him.

  “Come with me, Gracie.”

  Goddamn it. If she’d paid attention to the signs—to the way he held himself, the way his gaze noticed everything happening around him, to the fact he’d called her by her real name last night before she’d told him who she was, she’d have known he was a liar and a cheat.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized plotting his demise probably counted as premeditated murder, but she didn’t care. He worked for her brother. He wasn’t a professional skier like he’d told her. He was a stupid Aegis operative.

  Tightness pressed down on her chest, a tightness she didn’t like. She waved her hands in front of her face and tried to suck back air. Dropping to sit on the edge of the tub, she breathed deep so she didn’t pass out. That would make things better, wouldn’t it? Prove to him and her son-of-a-bitch brother that she actually did need protecting?

  The rage slowly receded, and she focused on the push and pull of her lungs, on the sound of the wind picking up outside and the hum of the heater somewhere in the ceiling. One night. She could get through one night without killing him. Once the storm cleared, she’d head home, forget she ever met Brian Walker, then deal with her brother later. When there weren’t any sharp instruments within reach.

  Her phone buzzed, and she crossed the room and snatched it from the counter. Unknown number. If it was her brother…

  “Hello?” she answered curtly.

  “I want to set up a scene in one of the fantasy rooms tonight, but I need another partner. Do you know if Jessica’s working?”

  Grace lost it. Just completely lost it. “This isn’t the fucking Playhouse. Check the goddamn number, prick.”

  She punched End on her phone, totally dissatisfied she couldn’t slam the thing down and really make a statement. A knock sounded on the door, and Grace’s head came up.

  “You didn’t fall in in there, did you?” Brian teased, using the same line she’d tossed at him last night. Then, less amused, “Get off the phone and come out here, Grace. We need to talk.”

  Grace’s fingers turned white around the phone in her hand. Oh yeah, they needed to talk. She just didn’t trust herself not to let him have it.

  Composing herself as best she could, Grace pulled open the door only to find the master bedroom was empty. Glass clinked from the direction of the living area, and, knowing she couldn’t hide forever, she lifted her chin and headed that way.

  The villa was exquisite. Even in her questionable mental state, Grace could see that the accommodations here were head and shoulders above what she’d had at the hotel. Travertine floors, marble counters, tall, arching windows that looked out at the snowy mountains, a river-rock fireplace in both the living area and master bedroom, and plush, comfortable furnishings a person could sink into after a long day of skiing. Their villa was situated on the edge of the property, and out the back windows, you couldn’t even see the other buildings around them. It was a tiny slice of heaven in the middle of what Grace considered her own personal hell.

  Brian was standing in the adjacent kitchen when Grace stepped into the room. A fire roared in the fireplace and snow fell outside the steadily darkening windows. The TV caught her attention across the room, the image paused on a view of the hallway outside her room in the main part of the hotel.

  He was watching the security tapes. Clenching her jaw, Grace dropped into a leather chair and reminded herself to stay calm. One night. She could get through one night without committing murder.

  “Here, drink this.”

  Brian shoved a glass in her hand filled with rich, amber liquid, then moved around behind her and sat on the couch.

  Grace sniffed and grimaced. “I don’t like alcohol.”

  “Drink it. You need something to settle you down.”

  Her hackles came up. “Who do you think—”

  “Grace.” He exhaled a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink it, okay?”

  If he’d been all domineering and demanding like he’d been back in her room when he’d told her in no uncertain terms that they were staying in the villa tonight, she’d have refused. No one ordered her around. But she didn’t hear that. Instead there was a frustration in his voice that for some reason counteracted her ra
ge and reminded her that killing him would only get her life in prison.

  She took a sip. Winced at the taste. When Brian said, “All of it,” she tipped her head back and swallowed.

  Whiskey. Blech. She really hated hard alcohol more than she hated wine. Wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her white sweater, she set the glass on the coffee table in front of her and muttered, “Happy?”

  “No, Grace. I’m not happy.” He set his drink on the coffee table, leaned forward on a sigh, then rested his forearms on his knees. Reaching up with one hand, he rubbed his forehead. “Contrary to what you think, I didn’t plan this.”

  Bullshit. Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t answer. Didn’t trust herself.

  “Look,” he said, dropping his arm. “We’re stuck here for the night, so we might as well make the best of it. I need to get some information from you about what’s been going on at home.”

  Grace crossed her arms over her chest and propped her stocking feet on the coffee table. “If you’re my assigned security detail, then you should already know, now shouldn’t you?”

  She was acting like a child. She knew it. From the exasperated expression on Brian’s face, he knew it too. Why was this bugging her so much? Not just because he’d lied to her. After all, she’d lied to him too, hadn’t she? Her emotions were all over the map, and she didn’t know why. All she knew for certain was that he’d hurt her, more than he should have been able to in such a short amount of time. And she didn’t know how to deal with that.

  “Your brother called me four days ago and said you were headed to Vail and that you were having issues with a stalker back home. Random harassment stuff—e-mail, phone calls, suspicious packages left at your house. He told me the police were on it and that you’d come here to get away from it all.”

  That was all true. “What are you asking me?”

  He reached for a notepad and pen from the coffee table. “Do you have any reason to believe someone followed you here?”