by Amber Bardan
“What?” She glanced at Bob. “And you agree with this?”
“I’m afraid we have no choice.” Bob gave her a consoling frown. “It’s not really such a large concession though is it, Charlie?”
She swallowed. Bob was right. Agreeing to have a bodyguard wasn’t such a big deal. Having this one though?
She kept her gaze from Conan-really-was-barbaric. Judging by his actions, he doubled as a spy. Probably reported everything she’d done over the last month right back to Frank.
Had he reported the kiss?
“And what if I refuse?”
Did Frank laugh about that? She swallowed again, her mouth sticky. Did they laugh at her together?
“Then you’ll be suspended from work, your security pass will be revoked, and you’ll be banned from entering the premises.”
She turned her back to them all and faced the window. Screw you, Frank. They knew they had her. “May I have some time to decide at least?”
“You have until the morning.”
Footsteps retreated.
“Wait.” She spun around. “He’ll maintain this covert protection until then, and stay out of my space?”
Frank paused at the door. “Yes, until tomorrow morning, he’ll stay out of your space. Won’t you Mr. Crowe?”
Connor gave one jerking chin movement of assent.
“Fine, I’ll have an answer for you in the morning.” She raised her chin. “Right now, I’d like to have a private word with Mr. Crowe before he makes himself scarce.”
Bob and Frank left. Suddenly she was alone with her barbarian spy. Her heart thumped a rigorous beat in her chest. She turned to him. A lump worked its way up her throat. “Let’s make this quick. My schedule is tight.”
***
Tight. She said the word and all Connor could think was tight. Yeah she’d be exquisitely tight wrapped around his—
What am I doing?
She’d walked in, rendering him as pitiful as she had on Friday. Didn’t help she’d worn some stretchy blouse that did nothing to hide the sweet, juicy perfection of her incredible tits.
Her gaze snapped to his and her golden-amber eyes spat at him. “Covert security?”
For a person he’d witnessed every day since she’d been his sole job and purpose, be nothing but warm and approachable, the way she stalked towards him bristled with hostility.
“How much of that involves reporting back to my Uncle?”
Was that any way to approach a man who’d she’d begged for a kiss?
He held back the smirk that was sure to be poorly received. “Frank Halifax takes my report on your welfare every Monday morning.”
“And what exactly did this morning’s report include?” Her voice dropped and octave, and she inched closer. “Did you tell my uncle you’d been kissing your client?”
Heat rose into his chest. That damned kiss. One he never should have given in to. One he’d justified by telling himself giving in was less likely to blow his cover than turning away a woman he’d been powerlessly ogling.
Truth was he hadn’t been able to resist.
Her thick, black lashes fluttered, softly, shrewdly in a way that sent a thrill smacking through him. In the last month he’d witnessed the ready smile she had for the waitress who served her morning coffee, the hug she gifted to the front desk receptionist on her way in, the nervous little jig she did when he watched her from the security room, right before she had a press conference—he’d never seen her sly like this.
It made him want to find out what else he’d missed from a distance.
“My client pleaded to be kissed.”
“So you did it for your job?” Her chest heaved. Fury, blasted from her gaze, but there in the vulnerable twist of her mouth was something else, an insecurity.
How could she think after a kiss so raw, that it could be contrived?
He took a step toward her, well aware she’d have to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “As I asked on Friday, do I look like a gigolo to you?”
“I don’t know what you are.” She stumbled back, out of reach. “But you are fired.”
He stared at her. She looked so determined. Too bad he wasn’t hers to fire.
“I can’t trust someone who’s spied on me. If they want me to have a bodyguard—if they’re going to blackmail me into having one, then it’ll be someone of my own choosing.” She backed up again. “And I’ll choose a woman for the job so there’s no confusion.”
“There’s just one problem with that.”
Her eyes flared. Perfect. A tremor of excitement told him she was going to fight him tooth and nail.
And they were both going to love it.
He leaned closer and whispered. “I don’t work for you.”
“If you work for Halifax, then I can fire you.” She smiled over her small white teeth.
Yeah, this girl wanted to fight. Ached for it. He could smell it in the tension of her muscles. The way she jumped at the opening he’d given her.
“My exclusive three month contract has been signed by the CEO.” He watched her expression flicker. “Paid in full. Whether you like it or not, for the next two months you’re mine.”
Her tongue darted out, and her breaths paused. Did she like that?
Did she like the idea of being his?
“Oh, Mr. Crowe.” She shook her head, and the cunning in the movement slayed him. “You’re going to have a hard time making that happen.”
“It’s going to happen, Charlie.” He stepped closer, then closer again. “So I’ll give you this one warning.”
Her heel bumped the wall off window, and her palms flattened behind her on the glass.
“I don’t mind a fight, so go on ahead and resist.” He bent until his mouth came level with the small white shell of her ear. “Because the more you do the harder I’m going to bring it. It’s up to you how you want to do this.”
She grabbed his shoulder, then her mouth was against his ear. “You’d better bring it because I’m going to give you hell.”
He chuckled. “Then the consequence for resistance will be on you.”
FOUR
Charlie spun in her chair. The bastard. No, the bastard’s plural. So much for keeping his distance, now the cat was out of the bag Connor no longer bothered with whatever measures he’d taken in the past to keep her from noticing him.
It was bad enough having him watch while she’d had to give the press conference explaining the closures, feeling his gaze on her as people booed.
The perks of being the “face” of Halifax.
She knew why Frank made her do it. To torture her yes, but also to prove that leadership means doing the hard jobs.
She wouldn’t be forced out because of her abject loathing of public speaking or the discomfort of having all the negative attention focused on her.
Connor loitered outside her office.
All day, her PA Lia’s giggle had rang out periodically. Proving he had some kind of pleasant personality he’d refused to show her.
If they thought they could force her into a corner they were wrong.
She may have to accept protection, but it would be her way.
“Lia?” She pressed her intercom. “May I get an archive box in here, please?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
She opened her filing drawer, searching for everything she might need if she had to work from home for an undermined stretch of time.
Lia entered, and placed the box next to her desk. “Sure you don’t want me to do the archiving?”
“Thanks, but I’ll manage.” She glance at her PA. “Lia, has anyone claimed those Mariners tickets?”
Lia tucked back a stray blonde curl. “No, they’re in my desk.”
“Keep them please, I think I know who might enjoy them.”
“Of course.” Lia left closing the door behind her.
Charlie lunged for the phone, dialing the number for the security room.
&
nbsp; “Charlie,” the exuberated voice answered in moments.
“Reggie,” she replied just as enthusiastically. “How’s Maisy?”
“You know, still feeding twice a night.”
Charlie grinned. Oh, Frank may not think she deserved to run this company, but the fact was, she’d been raised in this place.
She knew every employee in the building. She knew their spouses, how many children they had, what they did on the weekend. “Sounds like you and Maisy could use a night off.”
“If only,” he sighed. “Her parents have only made it out from L.A for two visits since Harper came along.”
“That’s a shame, because I have two Mariners tickets with your name on them…”
“Really?”
The longing in his voice may have caused her a moment’s guilt, if she didn’t know damned well he was going to get both those tickets and a child free evening.
“You know what, Miranda at the front desk used to be a professional Nanny. In fact she still does some babysitting, I could talk to her?”
“Could you?”
“Of course.” She smiled wider. “There was something else I wanted to chat to you about though.”
“Yes.” His voice dropped.
He knew.
Which meant her hunch had been correct. “I hear you’ve had a little extra company in the security room lately?”
“Ah, Charlie, I’m sorry. The order came from the top.”
“I know, it’s fine, really.” She stared at the door. “But I thought maybe we could come to a little arrangement of our own…”
Charlie pushed down the handle of the back exit and shoved against the door with her hip, balancing the archive box and her laptop bag.
Perfect.
Her plan was going perfectly. Not five minutes ago one Mr. Connor Crowe had been summoned to the security room by her loyal employee Reggie to look at footage of this morning’s incident. Meanwhile the security room screens were running a loop from half an hour ago.
Which meant that smug, lying sonofabitch would have no idea she’d taken her stuff and gotten the hell out of here.
She hoisted the box onto her hip and strode toward her car, sticking to the left of the lot where dim light streamed from streetlamps.
She’d already checked with Melanie if she could spend the night so Connor wouldn’t know where to go looking for her.
She grinned. Frank said she had a day to decide. She’d be damned if she’d be forced into anything before she’d agreed to it. Bad enough this had been going on behind her back for a freaking month.
The odd vehicles of late-working staff dotted the parking lot. The crunch of her heels on rock amplified in the space.
Her little red sports car hunched in the corner, dwarfed by the truck looming beside it. She slid her keys from her pocket and pressed the button. Headlights flared in response. Half an hour and she’d be at Melanie’s, with a tall goblet of Sauvignon Blanc to take the edge off. Hopefully it’d take the edge off the lusty ache she’d been carrying around since he turned up in her office unexpectedly— even if not in that very first moment, completely unwelcomely.
She sidled up to the car and pressed the trunk release. Yep, she’d need a tall goblet alright. Better yet, she’d stop on the way and get an entire case. Maybe that would wash away the memories of dark blue eyes, the addictive cologne she still smelled every time she inhaled, all which seemed stuck in her mind like a half-watched movie she was desperate to finish.
Charlie nudged open the trunk and bent over, lowering in the box. A door clicked next to her. She jerked up, spinning toward the truck. A dark figure rushed out of the vehicle in a head-down bull charge. She choked on a gasp and stumbled back. The body slammed into her. She fell against the car, her breath forced out of her in a rush.
She raised her head as a meaty hand slapped over her mouth and hauled her back. She sucked air through her nose. Her heart hammered in a sickening tempo. Stale tobacco wafted from the fingers smothering her face.
“Tie the bitch up.”
She twisted and jerked like a cat in a pillowcase.
The hand left her mouth and her arms jerked behind her back. She took a lungful of air and screamed. The sound pierced the parking lot.
“Shut her up.”
Two sets of footsteps struggled and crunched rock behind her, and a hand clamped back over her mouth. Something thin and cool slipped over her twisted hands then tugged around her wrists.
“How’s this tough decision for you, bitch?”
She closed her eyes for a moment and groaned. Those were her words. Not the bitch part, but the tough decision line was one she’d spouted just this morning when she’d been forced to justify the choice of a room full of executives who were far more concerned with bottom lines than human lives.
Fuck.
In the months she’d been receiving hate mail she’d never believed any of the cowards hiding behind computer screens would actually take their abuse into the real world. She’d been convinced Frank had taken the opportunity as just another device to control her with.
She’d been wrong.
“How much do you think they’ll give us to get her back, a million?”
They hauled her towards the truck.
“At least two,” the voice directly at her back said, then gave her a shake. “Then we’ll see who’s livelihood is “an unavoidable cost of tough economic times”.”
Dammit. Looked like every word she’d said was coming back to bite her.
“Yeah, maybe your kids can go without presents this Christmas.”
They stumbled closer to the truck.
“She doesn’t have kids, Jimmy.”
They paused. “Good, no poor kid should have to suffer her as a mother.”
She rolled her eyes. Somewhere from her boot to the truck her fear dissipated all together. These weren’t ruthless thugs. They were desperate, possibly incompetent, angry men.
Worst case, they’d get their ransom and let her go. If they just released her mouth there was a good chance she’d be able to talk them out of everything.
Talking people around was her job, the part she was great at. There were surprisingly few people who could stay obstinate in the face of both logical reason and niceness.
A little subtle manipulation never hurt either.
She may also, maybe, have a knack for knowing how best to flatter a person. Or indirectly bribe them. Both worked.
She embraced a whatever-it-takes attitude about the same time Frank threw her in the deep end of her presidency.
The hand holding her mouth vanished. She fell forward. Crushed rock grazed her knees. She rolled onto her backside.
Connor stood next to the van. His featured curled in a menacing twist. He held the two men by the collars of their shirts. The thinner man’s feet dangled, and the larger man was raised onto his toes. They grasped at the collars choking them.
She rose to her feet, not so easy with hands tied.
“Still think you don’t need a bodyguard?” His voice was a low throb.
Charlie wet her lips. Holy-moly. She’d stopped being afraid of her attempted abductors. Her so called bodyguard was another matter entirely.
She didn’t answer.
He clanged their heads together. Of course he did—Conan-the-freaking-barbarian. They crumpled to the ground.
She jerked forward. “Why’d you do that?”
His scowl intensified. He bent and collected a clear bag that had fallen to the ground beside the two limp bodies, then scoffed. Cable ties. Like the tie still clamping her wrists together. He rolled them over and bound their hands.
“What are you doing? I could’ve reasoned with them?”
Connor glanced up. “They appeared very reasonable while they were abducting you.”
He picked them up, one at a time by the waist bands of their jeans and shirt collars, tossing them into the back of the truck as if they were sacks of flour. He shut the door.
&nbs
p; She looked at the truck. “You just going to leave them there?”
“I’ll have a friend take care of it.”
Her gazed flew to him. Take care of it? Oh, shit. “Don’t hurt them.”
His entire forehead wrinkled in a way that was both irresistible and archaic. “My friend’s a cop.”
“Oh.” Well thank God for small, tiny mercies—now if she could provide one more in the form of getting rid of Conan.
He took out his cell phone and typed a message, then tucked it away. Then his attention, in full furious intensity, returned to her.
“Charlie?” He came towards her.
“Yeah?” She licked her lips. Barbarians being angry wasn’t supposed to be this hot was it? Surly calm barbarians should be more attractive…
They’re not.
“What did I tell you?” He advanced.
She backed against the passenger side of her car. “What?”
“The last discussion we had, what did I warn you about?”
Her pulse whooshed in her veins.
“The consequences of resistance will be on you.”
“I can’t remember, you were being a total, unreasonable Neanderthal.”
His gaze washed over her. “You’re sassy for a bound person who was almost abducted.”
“Do I look frightened to you?” She raised her brow.
He stared at her one long moment, then flipped her around. “Not frightened enough.”
Her belly pressed into the car door. He pinched her fingertip, then slid a finger between the cable tie and her wrists.
She exhaled. He was going to free her.
He left her there, and went to the trunk. She turned around. The trunk slammed closed. He approached with her keys and handbag, then took her elbow and slid her sideways.
He opened the passenger door.
“Aren’t you going to cut me loose?” She frowned.
Connor just placed his other hand on top of her head, and eased her into the passenger seat, hands still caught in the small of her back.
She swung her feet into the car.
He took the seatbelt, and leaned across her, buckling it into place. “First you can take a moment to reflect on what happens when you don't heed my warnings.”
The door slammed shut in her face.
