by Katie Reus
Not exactly surprising. When Wyatt was done talking, he was done talking and nothing else needed to be said.
The jet ride was a nice surprise, faster, and a whole lot more secure than him driving Taylor. He didn’t think she’d have an issue flying considering she’d mentioned taking her company’s jet, but he had a feeling she’d have an issue with him going. Not that it mattered, it was happening. Because he was making sure she made it to California safely and he wasn’t trusting her safety to anyone but himself.
Taylor was more than just an obligation. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known her long, he found that he wanted to know every little thing about this woman. And he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Chapter 8
Taylor gratefully took the bottle of water the flight attendant gave her and tried not to wonder what Roman was doing at the front of the plane. The tall, slender woman was beautiful and looked runway ready even in her blue and white uniform. Her inky-black hair was pulled up into a complicated-looking chignon and her lips were a ruby red that made the woman look like freaking Snow White.
Meanwhile Taylor was wearing borrowed clothes that didn’t fit right, had no makeup on and was wearing her zombie heels. Okay, her heels were actually awesome and the only thing that made her feel better. But she felt like crap otherwise and the dull throbbing in her side wasn’t helping any. And she really didn’t like the flirty looks the flight attendant had been giving Roman when they’d first boarded. Even if she couldn’t blame the woman.
It wasn’t like Taylor had a claim on him and he didn’t even want to be with her so whatever. His brother had taken them to the airport so she’d mainly talked to him, basically ignoring Roman. She’d felt as if he wanted to talk more to her, but she just couldn’t deal with how he made her feel all manic. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back against the plush, leather seat and tried to relax even though it was impossible when she knew what was waiting for her at the end of the flight.
“What you heard me tell my brother was bullshit.” Roman’s voice startled her.
She hadn’t even heard him approach. Opening her eyes, she turned in her seat to find herself staring into his mismatched eyes and fought that increasingly familiar sensation of being swallowed up by the man just by looking at him. “Excuse me?” As soon as they’d boarded he’d headed up to the cockpit and she hadn’t seen him even during takeoff. It was clear he knew the pilot and co-pilot, probably from previous travel with his boss. A shockingly jealous part of her had wondered if he’d been on more than friendly terms previously with the flight attendant. Ugh, she didn’t like feeling like this.
He sat directly next to her in one of the big, comfortable, leather seats instead of across the aisle from her, his nearness putting her on edge. That familiar masculine, woodsy scent wrapped around her as he leaned closer, his body heat scorching. “I don’t want to get rid of you.”
She wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t heard him at his place, because his words had hurt. “Then why’d you say it? Are you embarrassed by me?” That insecure part of her she thought she’d left behind in high school flared to the surface. The girl who’d never quite fit in—and still felt awkward in a lot of social situations—and wondered why a man like Roman had even kissed her.
He blinked as if she’d truly surprised him, something she figured didn’t happen too often. “Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed by you?”
His surprise soothed her ego, but she still wanted an answer to her first question. She shrugged. “Why’d you say it?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”
“That’s helpful,” she muttered, annoyance ratcheting up more than hurt.
Gritting his teeth, he met her gaze. “That kiss took me off guard and… I don’t fucking know. You make me feel crazy and I didn’t want to deal with questions from my brother when I had no idea how to answer him.”
Okay now she was confused. “I make you feel crazy?”
“Yeah.” His voice dropped an octave and he leaned in a fraction before he stopped himself and pulled back. Not enough to put actual distance between them, his masculine scent teasing her senses as it wrapped around her. “I’m near you and I want to kiss you. I think about you, and I get fucking hard,” he growled.
Her lips parted in surprise and just like that, his gaze dropped to her mouth and he let out a soft groan she might not have heard if they weren’t sitting so close.
“Are you hard right now?” she whispered, unable to take her gaze from his face.
“As stone.” His words were a guttural confession.
Just like that her nipples hardened and heat flooded between her legs. His words were like a full-body caress for how they affected her.
Unable to stop herself, her gaze dipped down but he had his laptop case placed over his lap. When she looked back at him, his gaze seemed to darken as he watched her intently, waiting for a response.
She leaned a fraction closer, as if drawn by the magnetic pull between them. “My nipples are hard too,” she whispered, the bold admission unlike her. Everything going on in her life might be insane, but the attraction she felt for Roman probably took the cake. There was no explaining it.
“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he quietly blurted.
Okay, that doused some of her desire, but…her gaze fell to his mouth again and her nipples tightened even harder against her bra cups. “Good. Neither am I.” Which was mostly true. She didn’t have time for a relationship, especially now, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Roman. Maybe some good sex would be enough to get him out of her system. Though part of her was really disappointed by the no relationship statement even if she wasn’t looking.
The flight attendant chose that moment to interrupt them, asking Roman if he needed anything else. He answered no without looking at her, which made Taylor smile. Once they were alone again, she leaned back against her seat and tried not to fantasize about going to bed with him. She felt guilty for her thoughts with everything else going in.
It was definitely time for a subject change. “How do you like working for Wyatt Christiansen?”
Roman paused for a long moment, as if he didn’t like the shift in topic, but then he sighed and seemed to relax, the tension in his shoulders loosening as he leaned back against his seat. He was still turned in her direction. “He’s a good boss. Benefits are good too. He takes care of his people.”
“That’s a very succinct answer.”
His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile—she wondered what it would take for him to full-on smile at her. “There’s not much else to say. The guy’s a hard ass when he needs to be, but he’s fair. I like working for him and I like the people I work with. Did he offer you a job again?”
Her eyebrows raised at his question. “You know he’s offered before?”
“He mentioned it when he called earlier.”
“He could have contacted me for all I know but I still don’t have my phone.” Or her laptop, her tablet, e-reader or half a dozen other electronic devices she was used to carrying with her at all times. Being so disconnected was jarring.
At the same time, it was also oddly nice not to have to deal with anyone who’d known Hugh, whether they thought she was guilty or not. The thought of talking to people she worked with about Hugh made her want to tailspin into a breakdown.
“I don’t think he’d make an offer just yet.” Roman’s voice was dry.
Taylor snorted. “Yeah, but this jet is a nice touch. If it wasn’t for Hugh I probably would have considered Mr. Christiansen’s offer—well, offers.” But she hadn’t even thought about it, nice as it was to be headhunted. Now she had no clue what she planned to do once the dust settled. One of the main reasons she’d stayed with Powers Group was because of Hugh and because she loved her job. Now the thought of going back to work for the company was depressing.
Roman seemed to sense her mood change because he reached out and squeezed her hand. “We
’ll be there soon, rest if you want,” he murmured.
She wished he wasn’t being so sweet and caring. Okay, that wasn’t true. She was incredibly appreciative of his support. It just made it harder because she knew this wasn’t going to last. Throat tight with a cacophony of emotions brought on by thoughts of her dead friend, she nodded and closed her eyes. The seat was like a big cloud so it wasn’t hard to relax. She couldn’t help but notice that Roman never let her hand go.
And she wasn’t inclined to pull it back from him. He made her feel safe, grounded and…not so alone.
* * *
“You ready?” Roman asked quietly as he and Taylor waited to disembark. As soon as they’d landed he’d received a call from Wyatt—who’d clearly taken a personal interest in this situation—letting him know that the detective assigned to the case, two uniformed officers and three men from Powers Group security were waiting for them. No one wanted to take any chances that Taylor didn’t make it to the police station.
After watching a couple news clips on his phone before they’d taken off, he’d seen how much the media was paying attention to the story of Hugh Powers’ death. No doubt the Oceanside PD wanted this wrapped up quickly and efficiently. There’d recently been an earthquake a couple hours north though so half the media attention was on the natural disaster.
Taylor nodded, her bright blue eyes seeming more vivid against her face under the afternoon sun streaming in through the open windows. “I think so. Guess it doesn’t matter now… Thank you for coming with me.”
He just grunted, not needing her thanks. Not wanting it. All he wanted to do was chase away the shadows in her eyes, see her smile. A real one.
When the plane door opened, she tensed next to him. Seconds later the pilot, co-pilot and flight attendant thanked them for flying with them with smiles on their faces—Wyatt’s people were always professional—before Roman and Taylor exited.
Carryon bag in hand, he went first, wanting to shield her from everything. Two matching, black SUVs and a slightly smaller black Ford Explorer were on the tarmac not far from the plane. Six men in total waited at the bottom. Three in black suits with black ties. All alert, all armed even if he couldn’t see their weapons. Two men were in police uniforms and one man was in slacks and a sports coat. He was the tallest. His hands were shoved in his pockets, pushing the bottom of his coat back and revealing his badge hooked on his belt. When he saw them, he straightened.
Roman reached behind him with his free hand and was pleased when Taylor took his hand. Moments later as they reached the bottom of the rolling stairs, the tallest man approached. Oh yeah, definitely the detective on the case.
The tall, lanky man with dark hair nodded at both of them, his focus narrowing on Taylor as he pushed his sunglasses back on his head. “Ms. Arenas?”
“You can call me Taylor,” she said softly, clutching Roman’s hand tightly as she came to stand next to him. He liked that she was leaning on him, but told himself not to get used to this.
“I’m Detective Durnin, but Byron is fine. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
She nodded and Roman was getting to know her enough that he realized she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Yes, she has,” Roman answered for her.
The detective looked at him, his expression guarded. “Are you her attorney?”
“No, I’m Roman MacNeil. I work for Wyatt Christiansen. Taylor is coming in of her own accord because she’s done nothing wrong. But if at any time I deem necessary—if you try to steamroll her with bullshit—Mr. Christiansen’s attorneys are on-call for her.” There was a bite of warning to Roman’s words. He wanted everyone to understand how they could and couldn’t treat Taylor. He knew he was likely being an overprotective dick, but he didn’t care. If someone had an agenda or wanted to make a name for themselves, sometimes innocent people got caught in the crossfire. In this situation he didn’t think that would happen when the most viable suspect had disappeared, but he was covering all of Taylor’s bases for now. She was a strong woman, but she was also emotionally connected to this case.
Next to him Taylor jerked slightly at his words. He hadn’t told her what Wyatt had said, but it was true. If at any time Roman thought Taylor needed legal representation, he was supposed to call Wyatt’s guy in case she didn’t have an attorney of her own. And Roman doubted she could call the law firm who represented Powers Group because of the conflict of interest.
The detective’s jaw tightened, but he simply nodded. “I’m aware of the situation.” His expression softened a fraction as he turned back to Taylor. “We’ve reviewed the statement you made with the Vegas PD and we’re sorry for your ordeal. Do you need medical attention before we head to the station?”
Taylor shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I just want to take care of all this now.”
As soon as she’d spoken, one of the men in suits came forward, a broad-shouldered, stocky Hispanic man, his laser-like focus on Taylor.
Roman instantly tensed, taking a small step forward out of instinct even though it was clear the police knew who these men were or they wouldn’t have been allowed on the tarmac.
“As agreed, she’ll be riding there under our protection,” the Hispanic man spoke as he nodded at Taylor.
Must be Benjamin Escobar. Wyatt had told Roman the man would be here.
The detective nodded and Roman could tell he wasn’t a fan of the situation. But he guessed Durnin’s higher-ups wanted this situation handled with kid gloves. A young, innocent woman had been shot then forced to go on the run because she’d been terrified the man who’d killed her boss would come after her—after the police had missed key evidence in the elevator.
“We’ll be right behind you,” the detective said before nodding at the two men in uniform and heading for the idling Explorer.
“I’m sorry about Hugh, Taylor,” Escobar said as he motioned toward one of the SUVs. He sounded sincere, but the man was hard to read. If Roman had to guess, however, the guy had definite military training. It was in his bearing and vigilant posture. “The police are going to catch that fucker Neal.”
“Thanks, Benjamin. I heard that you told the police I wasn’t involved even before I came forward.”
The man lifted his shoulders. “I knew you didn’t do it. You loved him too much.”
To Roman’s surprise, Taylor started crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks and Escobar stared at her in horror, as if the sight of her tears was too much to handle. Roman understood the feeling.
“Sorry, just nice that someone actually believed me,” she murmured, her voice watery as she leaned into Roman’s outstretched arm.
Escobar didn’t respond, just cleared his throat and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the display of emotion.
Roman tugged her close, needing to comfort her as they reached one of the SUVs. The passenger door opened and when a blond man got out, Taylor immediately froze.
All of Roman’s senses went on alert. Without thinking, he stepped in front of her and went to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. Because he traveled so much with Wyatt, he and all security personnel who worked for the billionaire were able to carry in multiple states. But this wasn’t an official work thing so he’d kept his weapon packed and unloaded. Unarmed or not, he’d take this guy down if he posed a threat to Taylor.
Escobar let out a short sigh. “Taylor, I know your concerns with Simpson and they’re unfounded. He was at the—”
“Taylor, I’m not working for or with Neal,” the man said heatedly, but not with anger. Just concern. “I was at the police station yesterday waiting for my girlfriend to get off work. She’s a dispatcher. We live together and her car is in the shop. I just didn’t want her to have to catch a ride home.” The guy had blond hair, but it wasn’t the man who’d shot at Roman outside Vadim’s house. Even though most of the guy’s face had been obscured, he had a slightly smaller build and his voice was different. Didn’t mean Roman was completely removing the gu
y from his radar.
“He’s telling the truth, Taylor. He was with me most of yesterday at the office.” It seemed as if Escobar wanted to say more, maybe really defend the guy, but didn’t.
Taylor sidestepped Roman, but still hovered a little behind him. “Okay,” she said, not much conviction in her voice.
They didn’t have time for this and Roman didn’t want Taylor around a man who clearly made her uncomfortable. “We need to get to the station and she’s not riding with him.” Roman knew he was being rude, but didn’t care.
Seemingly unsurprised, Escobar nodded. “No problem. We’ll take the other SUV.”
It was clear Simpson wanted to say more and he actually appeared as if he felt bad, but Roman didn’t care. No one was innocent or a non-threat as far as Taylor was concerned. Right now the only goal was to get her to the police station unharmed.
* * *
Neal stepped out of the small bathroom of his forty-foot cruiser. As boats went this was a decent sized one. Some called it a yacht, but to him, only cruisers over sixty feet should be designated with that title. While he might wish for something flashier and bigger—which he would get one day—for now this boat did its job of keeping him safe and under the radar.
No one knew he was here and he had enough food to last for a week without having to leave the marina. He’d chosen this particular one because it was mid-sized. Not so small that he would have regular neighbors who paid attention to him and not so large that he wouldn’t see or hear if the police were coming for him. Or the Russians. That was key right now. He was still waiting to hear back from his contact who’d arrived back in town not long ago. The guy had said he might have news about Taylor.
All this waiting was making him fidgety. He needed something to take off the edge. When his phone buzzed across the built-in teak dresser of the master stateroom, he snapped it up.
It was a text from his contact. She’s on her way to the station.
