by Desiree Holt
“Okay, I think that’s it.” Avery pushed her little Bluetooth keyboard aside and sat back in her chair. “I think we’ve got enough to start with. We’re going to take care of this,” she reminded him. “That’s why you’re here. I’ve been pulling all of this out of you so I can have a complete picture and the agent I assign to you can be prepared for anything.”
He sat, reluctantly, but he was close to the end of his patience. He still couldn’t find anything in his life to incite something like this.
“As I said before, the agent I assign to you can do double duty as your personal assistant without drawing a lot of questions.”
“I guess that’s the best cover. A lot of authors have male assistants.” He swallowed a smile as he visualized some well-muscled guy with a shaved head and tattoos passing out flyers and telling a bookstore manager what kind of pens he liked.
“That smile you’re trying to hide tells me what kind of image you have of the person I’ve tagged for this.”
“He just needs to blend in,” Blake told her. “Look the part.”
“She is not a male, but I believe she’s the perfect person for you. Acting as your PA allows her to be with you at all times. After your call, I reached out to her. She lives in Tampa but drove down here for the day to meet you and go over all the details with you. I didn’t tell her who you were, just in case after we chatted I didn’t think she’d fit the bill. But she will. Perfectly.”
“She?” He raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were talking about a male bodyguard.”
Avery laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re prejudiced about women taking traditional male jobs.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s just…well…I guess I expected you to assign a man to me.” He chuckled. “All the women I know would chop off my head if they could hear me. Or some other part of my anatomy. Anyway, I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Avery, but this person also has to have some public relations and organizational skills.”
“How about someone who has a degree in business from Florida State, served in the military, is overqualified in marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat, and looks like a model for a fashion magazine? Would that do?”
Blake grinned. “I’d say that’s about damn near perfect.”
“Okay, then. Get ready to meet your new personal assistant.” She pressed a button on her intercom. “Hey, guys. Is Sam in there?”
“I sure am,” came the answer.
“Great. Can you come to my office right now? The client is here. Thanks.”
Blake got a strange feeling in his gut when he heard the name. No, he was imagining things. It just couldn’t be. Hadn’t he just been thinking how determined he was to find out where she was? That would be the mother of all coincidences. A knock sounded on the door, and every muscle in his body tightened with anticipation.
“Come on in,” Avery called out.
“Hey, Avery. You wanted to see me?”
Blake’s brain did a hula twist at the sound of her voice.
Holy shit! Was this really possible? Had fate decided to answer his prayers and drop his second chance right into his lap?
“Yes. I’ve got a new assignment for you, at least for the next month. Meet your new client, Blake Morgan. Blake, meet Samantha Quenel.”
He froze in place, staring at her, and did his best not to swallow his tongue. Little Samantha Quenel was way more than the hot teenage girl he took to that dance and then dumped. The girl whose memory he’d carried all these years, who filled his dreams with erotic fantasies and made other women seem dull and uninteresting. Again he cursed himself for being so easily influenced by his so-called friends.
The memories that had roared to life on the drive from Tampa were now out in the open, sharp and vivid. But the image of the younger Samantha faded in the presence of the woman who stood in the office. She was nothing less than a knockout, tall and slender, with curves that made a man itch to run his hands over them and an air of unconscious sensuality about her. Her blond hair was still long but worn now in a utilitarian braid that somehow still seemed to look sexy. Jeans and a T-shirt outlined a body that was as tempting as it was toned. He tried not to stare at the way the soft material of her shirt displayed her nicely rounded breasts, or the way the jeans clung to hips he wanted to touch and long legs he wanted to feel wrapped around him.
God, he hoped his cock would behave and not try to poke out of his pants at her. He was here on business, not pleasure, especially since it appeared she was going to be part of that business.
But fate had given him an opportunity that he had no intention of wasting. Here was the chance he’d wanted all these years and he was going to take full advantage of it.
The look on Sam’s face told him she was as stunned as he was. Blue eyes were opened wide in surprise and her mouth, looking sexier than he remembered, formed a perfect O.
Wishing he had a bucket of ice to shove down his pants, he pulled himself together, rose, and turned toward the doorway.
“Hey, Sam.” He smiled at her. “Long time, no see.”
Chapter 3
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Blake Morgan here? The man who still haunted her dreams no matter how she tried to replace him? Who had dumped her like day-old coffee after a night filled with promise? That Blake Morgan? The unexpected punch of lust froze her for a moment.
As long as she hadn’t seen him all these years, she could bury the hurt feelings and the anger at what he’d done, right along with her unfulfilled yearning. Unfortunately, those feelings consumed her too damn often and had lasted too damn long. Who could be so stupid they still longed for a man they’d barely had a relationship with?
Her, apparently, no matter how much she tried to make it go away all these years.
“This isn’t going to work.”
The words were out of Sam’s mouth before she could stop them. She probably should have found a more professional way to say them. Better yet, she should have asked her the client’s name before agreeing to do this.
Avery stared at her. “Excuse me?”
Sam cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I should have put that in a more businesslike fashion. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you assigned another agent to Mr. Morgan.”
Blake just stared, her words obviously a shock to him. Then his lips curled in that very sexy grin that she’d never been quite able to forget. Along with the press of his body against hers on the dance floor, or the warmth of his hand when he held hers. The touch of his mouth and the heat of his kiss. His brown eyes, so dark they seemed almost black, with little gold flecks that caught the light, were focused on her now so intently the nerves on the surface of her skin tingled. The air between them shimmered with suppressed sexual tension and Sam needed every bit of her learned discipline to maintain control.
Fifteen years, she thought. Fifteen years since she had last seen Blake Morgan and still every pulse point throbbed with jubilation at the sight of him. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat and sloppy, or lost his hair, or any of the things that would have made him unattractive to her? But no, he had to turn into sex-on-a-stick, and a very successful stick at that. He had been very appealing then, but now maturity had given a richness to his look. He was still lean but his body was now corded with muscle, something she found strange. She knew he was a writer. Everyone in Arrowhead Bay knew of his success. But she’d figured he spent his days in front of a computer. His face still had that carved-out-of-granite look and sported a closely trimmed beard that she found incredibly sexy. Age had made him even more ruggedly masculine.
How was it possible the stupid teenage crush she’d had on him all those years ago had never gone away? And that’s all it was, she repeated over and over in her head. Nothing more than a teenage crush, based on one night. Just one night.
At that time she’d been so thrilled that hot, h
ot Blake Morgan had taken her to a dance. If she’d gone out with him again, she probably would have ended up hating him, something she’d never stopped telling herself. Actually, it was more like trying to convince herself, if she was completely honest. But she’d been lying to herself then and she was lying to herself now. Especially when she could never seem to erase the memory of his kisses.
She needed to forget about the feel of his hard body pressed against hers, the surge of teenage hormones that made her want him with an inappropriate desperation. Instead she should remember how quickly he’d dropped her after that. Well, now she had a chance to return the favor.
Damn it! Stop this, Sam. That was all years ago and you were sixteen, for God’s sake. You’re an adult, supposedly a disciplined one. You’re past the age of romantic daydreams. Where’s your discipline? Get your shit together, so you don’t embarrass yourself or Vigilance.
But lord, it didn’t help that he was the best thing she’d looked at in a long time.
Avery glanced from one to the other. “I take it you two know each other?”
“We dated in high school,” Blake told her, a smile still teasing his lips.
“Dated?” Sam made an effort to even out her tone of voice. “Uh, not exactly. One date. One dance. That was it. Just the one night.”
She hoped she sounded calm and collected. No way did she want anyone to see the shock she felt at facing Blake Morgan again after all these years.
Avery looked from one to the other. “So you two know each other. That might make this easier.”
Sam felt her control slipping.
“Yes, we went to high school together. Sort of. But we didn’t exactly part friends, so this might not work out. Sorry, Avery. It’s probably better if you assign someone else to this case.”
“But you don’t even know what kind of case it is,” Blake pointed out to her.
She ignored him and focused on Avery. “I’m assuming it’s a security job, since that’s a good part of what we do.”
“It is.” Avery nodded. “But there are some specific requirements of the person assigned to it.”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Blake needs someone to travel with him who can also function as his personal assistant. It makes for a very good cover and will allow you access to all facets of his routine without looking out of place and generating questions from people. Marcy and Lora are both on assignment and neither of the guys I have available could pass muster on that.”
Shit!
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Now what? Could she carry it off? She certainly had the background for it in spades, but could she be aloof and professional? Be around him and not want to constantly kick his ass for the way he’d treated her all those years ago?
Get over it, Samantha. We were teenagers, for God’s sake. All that is in the past, anyway, so put it there where it belongs.
“I’d consider it a personal favor.” Blake’s voice, still as smooth as melted chocolate, interrupted her thoughts. “Avery read me your background information and you’re almost overqualified. It would really ease my mind a lot to have you on my team.”
“I’m not…” She stopped and wet her lips.
Avery motioned to her. “Why don’t you come in and sit down. Let me fill you in on what’s needed. I’m sure the two of you can get past whatever history you had in high school. You’re both adults. And I think you’ll find this interesting, Sam.”
Translation: quit acting like an ass and embarrassing me or I’ll assign you to guard a scientist in Antarctica.
“Of course.” Putting on her best impersonal demeanor, she took the chair next to Blake. Maybe this was her chance, after all these years, to show him he meant nothing to her. That right now he was just a Vigilance client. Period. “And Avery, I apologize for the knee-jerk reaction.”
Avery gave her what the other Vigilance agents called “The Look.”
Sam knew she’d hear about this later. A relaxed environment was only good to a point. There were specific rules about behavior in front of clients. Or anyone else, for that matter.
“I apologize, Blake.” Avery slid a glance at Sam that felt like the edge of a knife scraping over her.
Sam cleared her throat. “I apologize, too. And of course I’m happy to take the assignment.” She stole a look at Blake. “Whatever you need, Vigilance can provide it better than anyone else.”
Avery gave an unladylike snort then looked at her notes. “Let me fill you in on everything.”
Half an hour later, Sam had been thoroughly briefed on everything. Despite whatever resentment she harbored toward Blake Morgan, she was well aware how serious something like this was and how much worse it could become.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Blake.” She wet her lips. “I’ll make sure you’re well protected. I’m really very good at my job.”
One corner of his mouth twitched in a half-grin. “So I understand.”
“Where are you staying while you’re in town?” Avery asked. “With your folks or at the B and B?”
“They’re out of town on a cruise. I’ve got a key and the run of the house. Much preferred to the B and B, as lovely as it is.”
“Alrighty, then.” She pulled a folder from a drawer. “I have some paperwork here for you. Then I suggest the two of you go someplace for a late lunch and, Blake, you can fill Sam in on what kind of schedule you have and what a PA does for you. If people see the two of you together, you can just be two old acquaintances catching up with each other.”
Sam didn’t dare tell her boss that anyone who might remember all those years ago would know they were anything but acquaintances. But fifteen years had passed, so it was old news by now. And she was dreaming to think anyone would remember or even care that Blake Morgan had taken Samantha Quenel to a Valentine’s dance, dumped her and continued to ignore her after that.
“Sounds good to me.” He flashed that smile again.
Sam went to fetch her purse while Blake signed his contract and gave Avery what she knew was a big fat check for a retainer. For this to work she’d have to set some definite boundaries. For herself as well as for Blake. When he came out of the office she pasted on what she hoped was her most professional smile.
“Do you have any preference as to where you’d like to go?” She looked at her watch. “The lunch crowd should be thinning out so we can probably catch a table almost anyplace.”
“I always try to hit the Driftwood.”
Sam nodded. “They still have the best seafood in town. Of course, you’re probably used to eating at all the best places with the rest of the elite crowd.”
His smile dimmed. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I do? In what way?”
The look in his eyes was intense. “I’m still Blake Morgan from Arrowhead Bay. My father still sells insurance, my mother still works a couple of days a week as a home health care nurse. I write books that suddenly a lot of people are buying and for that I’m very grateful. But I don’t consider myself any kind of elite.”
Sam bit her lip. She had to stop her mouth from running away on its own. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I don’t usually mouth off to Vigilance clients. Avery would hand me my ass in two pieces.”
He smiled again, the same smile that had melted her when she was a teenager only now it was more mature and a whole lot sexier. And, despite her resolve, it still had the same effect on her. How the hell was she supposed to handle this?
Because you’re a mature adult, former military, and a highly trained bodyguard.
Oh, yeah, bodyguard. I’ll be guarding his body.
“Sam?”
With a start, she realized he was talking to her, a quizzical look on his face, and she had no idea what he’d been saying.
“Uh, the Driftwood would be great
for lunch.”
“I’ll drive.” He opened the door. “Ladies first.”
Sam stole a look at him as he buckled himself in and started the car. The man he’d grown to be had a richness about him, a strength that the younger Blake had been missing. It hadn’t taken anything more than seeing and listening to him to tell her that.
It wasn’t just the sexual attraction, although God knew it was there in spades. Her entire body thrummed with need for him. This was the kind of man you could settle into life with, and it stunned her to realize that after not seeing him for more than fifteen years, her mind and her body had a sudden need and craving for him.
How on earth was she going to handle this assignment? She didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing. She certainly didn’t want Avery to know that the minute she’d laid eyes on Blake that the feelings she’d been hiding all these years popped out like a jack-in-the-box. Very bad form.
She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Feeling. They were silent on the short drive. She had expected a barrage of questions that didn’t come. She wondered if he was as busy with his thoughts as she was with hers. What an unlikely twist of fate this was.
Well, if she’d learned anything in the military it was discipline, something she needed right now. Something that would help her deal with that same sizzle from all those years ago that now snapped and crackled its way through her body and made her pulse leap into overdrive. They’d have to talk about this. No way they could go on ignoring what was sure to be the elephant in the room. She swallowed a sigh as they turned into the parking lot.
The Driftwood was a mainstay in Arrowhead Bay. Owned by the same people as Bayside Marina, it drew a steady business from both locals as well as people docking at the marina, whether for a day or a week or even longer. A place where people also went to celebrate special occasions, the dress was everything from casual to cocktail.
The ambience was what drew people first. Made of wood weathered to look like real driftwood, it boasted a high-ceilinged dining room with both booths and tables, and a long bar with high-back stools. A long porch framed two sides and in good weather those seats were prime territory. Diners could look out at the boats on the water, at the fishermen celebrating their catch of the day, at people zooming by on water skis.
