The Billionaire's Son

by Sharon Hartley

  “I wasn’t inside when it blew. How is Jason?”

  Trey shook his head. “He keeps asking where his mother is, when she’ll be home.”

  “I’ll also need Hans to swing by my apartment and wait while I pack, but I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”

  “Is that wise? You said the kidnappers know where you live.”

  “The FBI has my apartment under surveillance.”

  Trey snorted. “For all the good that will do.”

  “I doubt the bad guys will go anywhere near the place now. And I need uniforms, clothing.”

  “Right.” Sick of feeling helpless, Trey ran a hand through his hair. What could he do? He should be able to protect Officer Jenkins.

  “Please be careful,” he said.

  “I’m a cop. I’m always careful. But warn Hans just in case, okay?”

  “Don’t worry about Hans. The man is ex-military. Nothing rattles him.”

  “Still, he should know there’s a bull’s-eye on my back.”

  And that target that had been planted there because she’d rescued his son. No question he owed her. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Good. Listen, I’ve got to get back. Make sure Hans is here at six. I’ll be waiting at the back entrance.”

  Trey immediately placed a call to the Protection Alliance, the security company he’d contracted to guard his son. Hans was a good man—trained in martial arts and more bodyguard than chauffeur—but Trey wanted one of PA’s people to accompany Hans when he picked up Kelly. He didn’t want to take any chances with Kelly’s life. His son needed her right now, and that meant he did, too.

  After he explained the situation, Lola, PA’s office manager, promised to have another operative available within the hour to take the place of the one who accompanied Hans to get Kelly.

  “Sounds like the bad guys want to eliminate a witness who can identify them,” Lola said.

  “Is there any way you can have one of your people protect her while she’s on the job?” Trey asked.

  “Isn’t she a cop?”

  “Yeah, a rookie.”

  “That would be tricky. Even a rookie would pick up a tail, and my operative would have the whole department on his ass.”

  “What if I clear it with Officer Jenkins’s boss?”

  Lola laughed, a throaty sound. “Yeah, you do that.”

  Trey disconnected, his thoughts darting a thousand directions. The kidnappers had found Kelly and had tried to eliminate her. Did that mean they planned to make another attempt to snatch Jason? What else could he do?

  His father wanted them to relocate back to Manhattan. Much as he hated that plan, maybe it was time to give a move serious consideration. Surely the kidnappers wouldn’t follow them, and he could get that second opinion on Jason’s condition without hurting Donna’s feelings.

  But moving would mean tearing Jason away from Kelly Jenkins. Unless—was there any way he could convince her to go with them? Strangely, the thought of having her along didn’t seem quite as abhorrent as it had twenty-four hours ago.

  But no. There was no way Kelly would ever consider accompanying him to New York, so Jason would lose his mother again.

  Trey went to find Hans. His security team needed to know the stakes had just been upped.

  * * *

  KELLY WANTED TO wait for her sergeant. She really did. If Rudy McFadden needed to speak to her, she wanted to speak to him. He likely wanted to counsel her about her attendance, although she’d seen him around 5:00 p.m. when all units had converged on a call, and he hadn’t said a word about needing a conversation.

  He was now hung up on a different incident, a domestic with about ten priors, and he might not return to the station for hours. She sent him a text and pushed out the back door. She’d talk to him tomorrow.

  Wentworth’s limousine slid beside Kelly the second she entered the parking lot. Hans nodded at her through the windshield just as the limo’s back door swung open.

  She blinked. How had he managed that? Some special billionaire remote control function? Kelly climbed inside and almost into the lap of another man.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded. She’d seen him before, talking to Wentworth on the pool deck last night.

  “Scott,” he replied. “Your new bodyguard.”

  “My what?”

  “Mr. Wentworth is concerned about your safety.”

  “I’m a cop,” she said. “I don’t need a protector.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Scott said, folding his beefy arms. “I’m sure that’s correct. Although there was some mention of an incendiary device in your vehicle.”

  “He’s here to back me up,” Hans said from the front seat. “Give me your address.”

  Back him up? Shaking her head, Kelly gave the address and remained silent for the rest of the trip. She figured Wentworth would hire extra security for Jason after the kidnapping, but she didn’t need a guardian.

  When Hans pulled to a stop in front of her building, she said, “I’ll be quick,” and jumped from the car.

  Scott came with her.

  She whirled on him. “What are you doing?”

  “Going with you.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Kelly said, with a quick glance around. Was the FBI watching?

  “You can’t talk me out of it, Officer,” Scott said. “I’m being paid to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  “Fine,” she ground out. This was ridiculous.

  They didn’t speak as the elevator ascended to her floor. Before she could jam her key into the lock on her door, Scott stuck out his muscled arm, bent over and peered at the mechanism.

  “Does anything appear different, Officer?” he asked when he straightened up.

  “I’m a trained officer, not an idiot.”

  Scott nodded. “Unlock the door, but let me clear the room.”

  After turning the key, Kelly stepped back and waved her arm with a dramatic flourish, indicating he could enter first. Scott drew a Sig Sauer from under his jacket, pointed it at the ground and entered.

  Kelly folded her arms as she waited, hoping none of her neighbors came into the hallway. The thing she hated most in the world was feeling like a victim.

  At the age of thirteen she’d made a solemn vow to never be anybody’s prey ever again.

  Scott reappeared in the doorway. “You’re good.”

  Refusing to give in to the snarky remark lurking on her tongue, Kelly entered and packed quickly, tossing underwear, socks and casual clothing into her ragged suitcase. She didn’t bother with toiletries since Wentworth had all anyone would need—oh, except her toothbrush. After adding that to the pile, she grabbed workout gear, her competition-style bathing suit and goggles, the book she was studying for the sergeant’s exam, which she intended to sit for as soon as she was eligible.

  She grabbed clean uniforms from the closet, threw them over her arm and glanced around her bedroom. What was she forgetting?

  “Are you ready, Officer?” Scott asked.

  Her gaze fell on the gun locker she used for her service weapon. She stowed it inside her luggage and clicked the latches closed. “I am now.”

  Scott grabbed the bag and hefted it easily. “Let’s move.”

  Kelly wanted to snatch her suitcase out of the man’s hand, but followed him into the hallway.

  This guy was just following orders, and she was a cop who understood chain of command. Her problem wasn’t with a guy doing the job he was being paid for.

  Her problem was with Trey Wentworth.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WHEN KELLY ENTERED the foyer, Trey stood back while his son launched himself into her arms. They’d been waiting for her return ever since Jase had woken up from his nap demanding to see her. />
  “Mommy,” he shouted in a voice so full of joy that Trey’s stomach clenched.

  So in his son’s mind, Kelly was still his mother. He’d hoped that after so many hours apart Jason would realize the truth when he saw her.

  To her credit, Kelly knelt and hugged him close. “Hi, Jason.”

  “I missed you, Mommy.”

  “Well, I missed you, too,” she replied in a way that made Trey doubt if she’d given him a single thought all day.

  She stood and their gazes locked. Trey blinked at the difference in her. He’d never seen Kelly in her police uniform before. Was this even the same woman? She’d somehow acquired edges he’d never noticed.

  If Kelly wanted to disguise the fact that she was beautiful, a dark blue police uniform made of sturdy synthetic fabric certainly did the job. But the trappings also gave her an aura of authority, the sense that this was a woman not to be trifled with. And right now she looked seriously angry about something.

  Although, didn’t she always?

  His gaze zeroed in on her weapon. Now there’d be a loaded gun in the same house as a curious four-year-old.

  He cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? Dinner is ready.”

  “I need to talk to you,” Kelly said. “It’s important.”

  Lugging a suitcase, Scott entered the foyer. “Where should I put this?”

  Kelly narrowed her eyes at the PA operative, making Trey wonder if there was a problem between the two of them. Was that what she wanted to talk to him about?

  Maria appeared and said, “I’ll show you.”

  “Go on into the dining room, buddy,” Trey told Jason.

  Jason took Kelly’s hand and tugged. “Come on, Mommy. I’m hungry.”

  “Daddy needs to talk to Mommy for a minute,” Trey said. “You go on, son.”

  “But Mommy just got home.”

  “Can our discussion wait?” Trey asked Kelly. “Jason’s been anxious to see you.”

  He thought she’d refuse, but after a pause she nodded. “Sure. Let’s eat.”

  “Thank you,” Trey told her.

  “No problem. But I’d like to drop my gun belt first.”

  “Where are you going, Mommy,” Jason demanded when she untangled her hand from his.

  She knelt so they were eye level. “Mommy needs to go to the bathroom to wash her hands. I’ll be right back.”

  “Promise?” he asked.

  Trey bit his lip. How could anyone be immune to the longing in that little boy’s voice?

  “I promise.”

  She stood and hurried away, unbuckling her belt as she took the stairs.

  Where would she hide her gun? Was there any chance Jason could get at it? Unlikely, but he needed to speak to her about that possibility. He needed to procure some sort of a safe.

  “Why is Mommy dressed like that?” Jason asked. “She looks funny.”

  “For her job,” Trey said quickly. “You ready to eat, Jase?” Trey asked, in an attempt to change the subject. “I know you’re hungry.”

  Jason heaved a big sigh, his gaze glued to the staircase where Kelly had disappeared. “I’ll wait for Mommy.”

  So Trey waited beside his son for Kelly to return.

  When she descended the stairs a few minutes later, Jason rushed forward to grab her hand. She still wore that ghastly uniform, but her hair looked different. Before it’d been tied back somehow, but now it framed her face, softening her serious expression. Her step appeared lighter without all that weight around her waist.

  As he followed ersatz mother and son into the dining room, she spoke easily to Jason, making him giggle. He skipped along beside her, appearing truly happy and at ease for the first time all day.

  Inside the dining room, Greta had set three places at the table. Trey helped Jason into his booster seat and indicated Kelly should sit across from his son. He sat at the head of the table.

  “No buffet tonight?” Kelly asked, unfolding a napkin into her lap.

  “Greta will be serving us,” Trey said.

  Greta pushed in her cart containing the first course and placed a steaming bowl of minestrone soup before Kelly.

  “Thanks,” she said, and gazed at it as if she’d never seen food before.

  He should be grateful to this woman. His request had disrupted her career, but for the most part she was being a really good sport. Especially considering her life was now in danger.

  Then why was he still so uncomfortable with her presence in his home? Maybe because he had his doubts that all this playacting was the right thing for Jason’s mental health.

  * * *

  WHAT SEEMED LIKE hours later, Kelly followed Jason and his father upstairs. It was finally time to put Jason down for the night. She’d planned to speak to Wentworth immediately after dinner about the bodyguard situation, swim forty laps and then retire to her room to study. No such luck.

  Wentworth gave Jason permission to watch his favorite Disney movie before bed, and of course she had to watch it with him.

  Finally, at nine, Wentworth had told Jason it was bedtime, and apparently it was some sort of bizarre family ritual that Mommy and Daddy both had to put the kid down. Why did it take two people? She’d managed to go to sleep as a child without anyone ever tucking her in.

  When the three of them entered his room, Jason climbed into bed. Wentworth arranged the covers for his son and kissed his forehead. “Good night, buddy.”

  “Good night, Daddy.”

  Kelly waited for Wentworth to turn out the light, but father and son both turned to her.

  “Mommy?” Jason said.

  Kelly stepped forward “What, Jason?”

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  Kelly shot Wentworth a look, and he nodded. She shrugged. Nothing wrong with giving the kid a quick peck.

  She leaned over, planted a kiss on his check and breathed in a sweet elusive fragrance from her childhood, a lotion her mother had once smoothed onto her skin after a bath when she was very young.

  She straightened, startled by the unexpected rush of memories.

  Jason smiled angelically. How could anyone think of harming this adorable little dude?

  “Now Mommy and Daddy have to kiss,” Jason announced.

  What? Kelly shot Wentworth another look.

  He shrugged, leaned over and quickly kissed her cheek.

  She raised her hand to the spot. Had Wentworth really just kissed her?

  “Daddy,” Jason said with infinite patience. “You know that wasn’t a real kiss.”

  * * *

  TREY WANTED TO laugh at the wide-eyed expression on Kelly’s face. If only there was something humorous about his son’s situation.

  Hand to her cheek, she glared at him warily. Good-night kisses had always been part of his family’s bedtime ritual. Even when their marriage was beyond repair, he and Darlene had always managed a perfunctory meeting of the lips when they put Jason down for the night together.

  Kelly would get over it.

  Before she could mount a protest, he gathered her close and pressed his lips to her soft, very kissable mouth. The kiss was quick, but a sudden, unexpected flash of desire shot through him, and he fought it.

  He wanted her. He hadn’t felt such yearning for any woman in a long time.

  She stepped away from him, fingers to her lips, and the moment passed.

  “Time for sleep now, buddy,” Trey said.

  He turned off the overhead light. Kelly followed him to the door. Neither of them spoke, but the memory of how she’d felt in his arms burned in his thoughts.

  He’d enjoyed touching her, but this pretend-mother game suddenly felt wrong. And dangerous.

  Dangerous for all three of them.

&n
bsp; When they got to the bottom of the stairs, he said, “You wanted to speak with me?”

  “Yes.” She released a breath. “Is there any more of that wine from dinner? It’s been a long day.”

  A glass of wine sounded like exactly what they needed. “Good idea,” he said. “Let’s move into the bar. Red or white?”

  “Red,” she said.

  Trey selected a pleasant Napa Valley merlot and busied himself with a corkscrew while Kelly perched on a barstool, her long legs dangling.

  “So I assume you and your wife had some—I don’t know—ceremony every night with the good-night kisses?” she asked.

  “Yes.” The cork exited the bottle with a soft pop. “We each had to kiss Jason and then each other before he’d go down for the night.”

  “A heads-up would have been nice,” she said.

  “Sorry.” He dribbled wine into two glasses, and slid one across the bar toward her. “Frankly, I’d forgotten about it myself. It’s been a while.”

  “Thanks.” She took a sip of wine. “Does your kid always get what he wants?”

  “Obviously not,” Trey said. “He didn’t want to be kidnapped.”

  “I understand that. It’s just—I don’t know.” She looked away. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but don’t you think he might be a little, you know, spoiled?”

  “Come on. Didn’t your mother and father tuck you in at night?”

  “Actually,” she said, setting her wineglass back on the bar, “I never even met my father. So no.”

  “Well, then your mother at least.”

  Kelly started to say something, but pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Never mind that. I need to talk to you about the fact that you’ve hired a babysitter for me.”

  “A bodyguard. What’s the problem?”

  “Surely you understand I can’t have this Scott person following me around.”

  “He’s for your protection.”

  “I don’t need protection. I’m a cop. I do the protecting.”

  “And cops die in the line of duty all the time.”

  “Not all the time.”

  “And they don’t find explosive devices in their vehicles very often, either. That’s my point.”