A Dangerously Sexy Christmas

by Stefanie London

  “I didn’t.” She grinned. “That’s Owen’s coffee.”

  Max shrugged. “Not anymore.”

  “You look like shit.” Quinn tossed her pink-streaked hair.

  “Thanks. It was exactly the look I was going for this morning.” Max glanced at Quinn’s fitted black jeans, pink Docs and oversize jumper with a picture of She-Ra on it. “You’re lovely as always.”

  “Such a gentleman.”

  The elevator arrived. Quinn got in with him. On the way to the top floor, she scrutinized Max more closely. “Seriously, you really do look like shit. Is everything okay?”

  “This assignment is messing with my head.” He took another swig of his stolen coffee. “I can see where the evidence is leading and I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it.” She paused, her face serious for a change. “You have to find the truth and keep the client safe. What you like has nothing to do with it.”

  He let out a long sigh; Quinn was absolutely right. He’d been worrying himself into the ground about Rose rather than focusing on finding the truth. His number one priority was keeping her safe and finding out who was after her so they could hand the information over to the police. Beyond that, it wasn’t his concern.

  “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” Quinn patted his arm.

  Max laughed. “I’ve never underestimated you. Don’t you worry about that.”

  The elevator doors slid open to reveal a bustling office. There was a team update this morning and that meant most of the consultants would be in today. Peace and quiet wouldn’t be available, but he could spend a couple of hours researching Nigel Lawson without worrying about Rose catching him. He’d called in another favor and one of his colleagues was keeping an eye on her while she worked.

  A few hours apart would do them good. He needed the perspective that only space could give.

  But then she’d left him with a sweet peck on the cheek and a promise that she’d call if anything suspicious happened, and he realized all over again that it would not be easy to leave Rose behind.

  “Where’s my coffee?” Owen walked over and looked from Max to Quinn and back again.

  “Max needed it more.” Quinn rested against the generic desk where Max would be spending his day and sipped her coffee. The paper cup was almost as big as her head.

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t know it was yours when she gave it to me.” Max shrugged. “But I really do need it more than you.”

  “After all I’ve done for you...” Owen shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his lips. “And you repay me by stealing my goddamn coffee.”

  “Life’s cruel.” Max dropped into the chair and connected his laptop to the docking station before jabbing the power button with his finger.

  “How’s the assignment going? You’re doing the protection detail, right?”

  “Turns out it’s a little more than a protection detail.” Max yawned and stretched his arms over his head, trying to force the weariness out of his limbs. “The robberies have escalated, and I’ve got a horrible feeling the guy who’s after her is someone she knows.”

  “Isn’t that often the case?” A dark shadow crossed over Owen’s face, dampening his normally cheerful demeanor.

  “I think it might be her father.”

  Owen blinked. “Wasn’t he the one who hired us?”

  Max took another swig of his coffee and tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his stomach. “Yeah.”

  “That’s rough. Her own father...” He shook his head. “People never cease to disappoint me.”

  “You got more evidence that points to him?” Quinn asked, toying with her neon-pink space invader earrings. “More than a photo, that is?”

  “Nothing concrete, but all the signs point to him.” He sighed. “I feel it in my gut, you know?”

  Owen nodded. “Just gather the facts first.”

  “Always.”

  The three sat in silence while Max’s laptop sang a jingle as it booted to life. The head honcho, Logan Dane, came out of his office and walked toward the conference room. People parted as he stormed through, a scowl on his face.

  “Quinn,” he called out, snapping his fingers. “I need you.”

  Quinn nodded and turned to Max and Owen. “If I don’t come out, check the supplies cupboard. He’ll probably have strangled me with a HDMI cable.”

  “You’ll be fine, just don’t make any jokes,” Max said, giving her a gentle shove toward the conference room.

  “Or speak over top of him. Actually, to be safe, don’t speak at all.” Owen folded his arms across his chest. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

  Quinn scowled and scurried off, following their boss as he called her name again.

  “So you really believe this chick’s father is coming after her?” Owen shook his head. “Have you told her?”

  “She’s not a chick. She’s a person.” Max ground the words out. “Her name is Rose.”

  “Oh, shit. You slept with her, didn’t you?” He slapped his hand down on the desk and knocked over a tin, sending blue plastic pens skittering across the laminated surface of the desk and onto the floor.

  Max bent down to collect them. “Say it a little louder. I don’t think they heard you in Human Resources.”

  “I just...of all the women you could have slept with, why her?”

  “You were the one telling me to use it before I lose it.” He tapped his password into his laptop with loud, angry clicks.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Owen shook his head. “She must be something.”

  “She sure is.”

  “So that means you’re over Megan?”

  Max paused. “I guess it does.”

  Though Owen had been in the US for a few years now, he’d worked alongside both Max and Ryan in Australia. So he knew Megan, knew that she and Max had been inseparable before Ryan’s death.

  “Good for you.” Owen nodded. “You deserve it. Just don’t tell anyone else here...unless you’re planning to leave.”

  When Max didn’t say anything, Owen laughed.

  “You are leaving, aren’t you?”

  “I’m heading home after I’m done with this assignment.” Max toyed with a pen cap, turning it around in his fingers until it slipped from his grip and bounced on the desk.

  “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

  Max looked up. “I am.”

  “Really?” Owen stared him dead in the eye. “Nothing tells me you’re happy about it other than the words out of your mouth.”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “No. Words lie.”

  Max remembered something Rose had said. I don’t want your word, Max. Words lie. It was true; they all knew words counted for little. Promises could vanish into thin air. Truths could become untruths. Words were but a cover for thoughts and feelings, the things that brought people to their knees if they didn’t guard them tightly enough.

  “I am happy. I miss being on the force. I miss the old team. I miss my family.” He opened up his email program and scanned his inbox, keeping his face expressionless.

  “And you’re happy to stop seeing this girl?”

  “I don’t know. Part of me wonders if I gravitate toward her because she’s like me.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s a fighter, but she’s also kind of a loner.” He shrugged. “I can’t stay here for her, and I can’t ask her to leave. So it’s pretty clear that we’re going nowhere together.”

  “Until one of you decides to change that.”

  “Since when are you pro-relationship?” Max gave Owen a shove. “I thought you were strictly a one-man band.”

  “I am, but you’re not. You’ve always been relation
ship material. You thrive on commitment.” Owen held his hand up to silence the protest ready to spring out of Max’s mouth. “Who’s always had a steady girlfriend when we were in the academy?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “I did.”

  “Yeah, while the rest of us were living it up, you were loyal to that girl from the posh school.” He nodded, a smug smile on his face. “Then there was the constable from Geelong, the little blonde hottie. What was her name again?”

  “Elena.”

  “Right. Then you started going out with Megan and you almost walked down the aisle.”

  Max sighed. “Almost.”

  “You would have if Ryan hadn’t...” Owen swallowed.

  “Yeah, and it would have been a mistake.” Max scratched his head. “She wanted me out of the force. She thought it was too dangerous.”

  “It is dangerous.”

  “It’s who I am.” Max closed his eyes, shutting out the bright office lighting for a moment. “That’s why I have to go home.”

  “Maybe Rose wants to go with you.”

  “Her home is here. Her family is here.”

  “The family you’re worried might be putting her in danger?”

  Max scratched his head, happy for the change of topic. “Now I suspect he engaged Logan & Dane in the first place to keep tabs on her through me.”

  Owen shook his head. “Bastard.”

  “And it worked. I gave him everything he needed.” His gut churned as if he’d been strapped into one of those gravity-defying fun-park rides.

  Still, he had no proof. And if he couldn’t find that proof soon, he’d be at serious risk of failing Rose. No matter what, his promise to keep her safe would not be a lie.

  13

  ROSE HAD FINISHED her shift at the jewelry store and had some time to kill before Max picked her up and relieved the other security agent. But “time to kill” wasn’t a positive thing at the moment. In fact, she was pretty sure it was an alternate phrase to “think about all the things to which you have no solution.”

  In other words, she needed a distraction. Armed with a sketch pad and a small tin of her sketching supplies, she walked over to the coffee shop, her shadow not far behind. Rose inhaled the welcoming aroma of coffee and fresh bagels. Nothing like the promise of caffeine and carbs to perk up a girl’s mood.

  She made a beeline for a spare table in the back corner, which had a nice amount of light and more room than some of the other spaces. Her “replacement Max” took up residence at the stools running the length of the bar. He hadn’t said much to her, but knowing he was there made her feel more at ease. Slightly.

  Once her pencil hit the paper she lost herself in the creative process. The scratch of lead was music to her ears, furious strokes revealing an image out of thin air.

  “Is that a peacock?” Nala’s voice snapped Rose out of her frenzy.

  “It is.” She held up her sketch pad. “It’s going to be an arm cuff. The head will sit at the front and the feathers will wrap around the arm.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Nala set a mug down on the table and filled it with coffee from the pot in her hand.

  “I want to get my work into a fashion show, and this—” she tapped the end of her pencil against the pad “—is how I’m going to do it.”

  “They’d be crazy to say no to you.”

  Rose nodded, already envisioning how she’d use gold wire to wrap the tourmaline beads she’d bought especially for this project. They came in every variation of blue through green, from stormy ocean to English countryside. The pièce de résistance would be a twenty-six carat blue topaz briolette that shone like blue fire when the sun hit it and would act as the peacock’s body.

  “It’s not easy to break out in this industry. You need to have the right connections, and I have none.” Her fingers drummed against the arm on her chair. “Some days I think I’d give my right arm to get a mention in Vogue.”

  The client she was doing a commission for—the one she’d been on her way to meet when she’d been attacked—had kindly agreed to come in and see her at the store. She’d even brought a picture of her dress. Turned out the ball was for a local fashion school. They might not attract Vogue, but there would be fashion bloggers and upcoming designers there. It was definitely a start.

  “You need that arm. Trust me.” Nala sighed and looked out over the café. “I’m glad you came in today. You’re balancing out the ratio of decent human beings to scum of the earth.”

  “Should I take a guess which side you put me on?” Rose closed her pad and tucked it safely out of the way before she reached for her coffee.

  “I know you’re one of the good guys.” A crease marred the perfect dark skin of Nala’s forehead. “But you’ve been so stressed the last few times you’ve been in. I’m worried.”

  “Nothing to be worried about. I’m just...” She sighed. “It hasn’t been an easy transition moving back here, to be honest.”

  “Really?”

  “It doesn’t feel like home.” She cradled the coffee cup in her palms and let the warmth seep into her. “I don’t feel settled, even though I really want to be.”

  “You haven’t been here that long. Give it time.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what I need.” Rose watched the door to the coffee shop open as two men in dark coats walked in.

  “What about your dad? I thought you wanted to build a relationship with him.” Nala toyed with a strand of supercurly hair and tucked it into the funky red bandanna that was keeping the rest of her hair in place.

  “I do.” But she said it with less conviction than she had before. “We’re going to spend Christmas Day together.”

  “See, that’s good progress.”

  “It is.” She nodded, wishing that her excitement about her father outweighed the fact that Max would be gone soon. “Do you ever get the sense that you’re missing out on something? Like the world is making you choose between two things when you want both.”

  “You moved on your own to a big city where you don’t know anyone and you’re trying to rekindle an old relationship. I’d bet anyone would feel strange in that position.” Nala shook her head. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks.” Rose managed a smile but there was no way she’d be able to shake the tension in her limbs.

  She reached for her coffee. Max hadn’t yet arrived and the coffee shop was reasonably full. She’d keep her eyes on the door until he arrived, so she could wave him down to join her.

  A mother with three children stood in front of the window that showed the day’s pastries and cakes. She was trying to break up a fight between the two older kids, while bouncing the baby in her arm.

  The rest of the coffee shop was mostly professionals—men and women in suits who were attached to their electronic gadgets. A younger guy with tattoos poking out from the rolled up cuffs of his checked shirt worked diligently at a laptop, his head bobbing to some invisible beat.

  The bell above the door chimed and a gust of cold air swept through the coffee shop. Max strolled in, his eyes locking on her immediately. He smiled at Nala as he walked past the counter, his broad frame encased in his usual uniform of a leather jacket and dark jeans. He had gloves on today, the all-black outfit making him look more imposing than usual.

  He didn’t address the other security guy, but Rose noticed that the man immediately settled his bill and left.

  “How’s the sketching going?” Max nodded to the pad sticking out of her bag and he pulled out the chair across from her.

  His presence was like a soothing balm; it healed her worries, took the sting out of her fear.

  “It’s going well.”

  “Can I see?” he asked almost shyly, as if he feared he was intruding on a part of her life where he didn’t belong.

 
“Sure.” She held it open to the peacock cuff design page and handed it over. “This is what I’m working on at the moment.”

  A long whistle of appreciation sailed out between his teeth. “That’s amazing. You don’t even need to make it, just hang the damn drawing in a museum.”

  Rose laughed, the last of her tension easing. “I prefer playing with shiny things.”

  “You’re seriously talented.” He flipped through a few more pages before handing the pad back to her. “Do you think you’ll find the right opportunities here?”

  “In New York?” She shrugged. “It’s one of the major style capitals of the world. New York fashion week gets over two hundred thousand people at their shows across the seasonal events. Each fashion week has about three hundred designers—that’s a lot of opportunity to get my jewelry on the runway. Although it’s crazy competitive.”

  Max nodded, his face revealing nothing. “Do they have those kinds of things in other countries?”

  “Oh, yeah, there’s London, Milan and Paris, too.” Rose wondered why he was taking a sudden interest in her work, but she was happy to talk about it, nonetheless.

  “Australia’s not stylish enough to be included in that list?”

  “It’s a smaller market, I guess. I’m sure they have something equivalent, but it wouldn’t be to the same scale.”

  Nala appeared at their table, her brows raised behind Max’s back. “Can I get either of you anything to eat or drink?”

  Max turned. “I’d love a coffee. Do you have espresso?”

  Nala shook her head and smiled. “Just regular coffee, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll take one of those.”

  Nala returned with a cup and filled it with hot, black liquid. “There’s creamer and sugar here on the table. So how do you two know each other?”

  Rose could tell from the tone of her voice the real question was, Why haven’t I heard about this guy before?

  “Max and I are...uh, friends,” she said, cringing at how awkward the words came out. What else could she say? He’s just the guy my dad hired to protect me from some thieves who want a diamond I know nothing about. Oh, and we’re sleeping together.