by Leah Braemel
He ducked into their apartment, emerging moments later with a beat-up gym bag. He glanced over his shoulder when he reached Sam’s door. From the look he gave her, she had a feeling he knew it wasn’t Sam she didn’t trust, but herself. That she was tempted to walk back into the lion’s den and meow.
Without saying another word, Kris opened Sam’s door and shut it behind him.
Muttering about her own idiocy, and flinging curses toward Sam, Rosie fled into the safety of 1202. Phillips’ duffel was just inside the door, though she couldn’t see him.
Andy looked up from the laptop. “Hey, Rosie. I sent Scott to crash in the second bedroom with Skippy since they’ll be drawing opposite shifts. He looked pretty beat—I figured we could bring him up to speed later, right?”
Her feet slowed in the middle of the room. You walked out to save your job. So stop being such a pathetic zombie. “Yeah, that’s fine. There’s, um, been a change of plans and Kris is staying with Sam tonight.”
“Oh.” Andy frowned. “What happened? I thought you’d decided you were drawing that detail?”
“No, I think it’s better if I co-ordinate things from here.”
“Had a fight already, huh?”
“No. Not really.” She flopped into a chair. What should she do now? It was only a matter of time before Scott or Kris told Andy what had gone on, and then she’d lose control of all three. “Sorta, I guess.”
“Hmph. Pity. I was kind of hoping you two would hit it off.” And then he shocked the hell out of her. “You know you and Sam would be good together, don’t you? I mean, you guys make a good couple.”
When she finally gathered enough air to speak, all she could gasp was “What?”
He tilted his head and quirked a grin at her. “Come on, you’ve got the hots for him—everyone in the office can see it. And Sam—well, he’s obviously pretty into you. Besides, I heard you paid seventy grand for him at that auction. You wouldn’t have bought him for that type of change if you weren’t interested.”
Her mouth flapped open and closed a few times before she could think clearly enough to answer. “That was a favor for Jodi Rodriguez,” she said slowly, referring to Sam’s Dallas-based partner’s wife. “She made some agreement with Sam when he was in Dallas last summer. It was her money I was bidding with. Or maybe Sam himself paid. All I know is it wasn’t coming out of my pocketbook.”
That another woman had driven the bidding to such a frenzied height and cost Jodi so much had left her mortified. Especially when Jodi insisted that she go out with Sam as stipulated by the auction rules. Not that anything had happened, no matter her fantasies. “Besides, he’s my boss. Not to mention my principal. You know it wouldn’t be good to allow myself to be distracted.”
One of his shoulders slowly hitched up then dropped. “All I’m saying is that if you have a chance to find love, you should grab it, you know?”
“It’s not like that.” Sam had never mentioned a word about love. He’d asked if she felt what she did to him, but that was physical. And she had enough experience to know that lust was vastly different than love.
“Oh. Like I said, that’s a pity.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “All right, let me go move my stuff into that bedroom and tell Scott about the change in plans. You wouldn’t want me walking around buck naked in the morning now, would you?” He knocked on the door then walked in. “Hey, Scott? Change of plans, buddy.”
Rosie sank back into her chair. There was no way she could stay on as lead op after this. Her threat to request a transfer had just become a necessity. Hopefully the rumors that would undoubtedly rage like a California brush fire wouldn’t reach wherever she landed. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. While she waited for the phone to connect, she watched the monitor showing the four cameras in the central hall Kris had set up earlier. The one aimed at the elevators showed the door opening and an older lady stepping off, a yappy white spotted terrier pulling at its leash.
Mrs. Margaret O’Mara of 1206. No threat to Sam. The woman turned to the right and walked to the apartment at the far end.
The ringing switched to an automated voice mail system. Once she’d heard the beep, she drew a deep breath. “Chad, it’s Rosie. There’s been a…development. If you could call me on my cell as soon as you get this.” Though she knew Chad had her on speed dial she recited her number anyway.
While she waited for him to phone back, she read through a couple more reports and noted who was where on the spreadsheet she’d started earlier that day, ruling out three more agents as possible suspects. At least she could say she’d contributed something to the detail before she left.
Twenty minutes later, the computer screen showed the elevator doors opening again. Chad. So he’d decided to see her in person rather than talk over the phone.
It was going to be tough to face him, but she supposed she owed him that much for believing in her enough to put her in charge. At least it was better than an impersonal email. Hey, thanks for putting me in charge, but I’m going to turn tail and run because my boss can make me come with his tongue.
Keep cool, stay calm. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, laying a hand on the doorknob. If he doesn’t grant your request for a transfer, then tell him that he can expect a letter from her lawyer.
She opened the door without trying to fake a smile. She knew she’d fail.
“Hey, Chad, come on in.”
Chad nodded once. “You all right, Rosie?”
A half-hysterical laugh came from her. All right? Where did she even begin to start?
He tilted his head as he looked at her. “The reason your call got dumped into voice mail was I was on the phone with Sam.”
Why did she not find that surprising?
“He said that he’s worried he gave Campbell and Phillips a wrong impression about you. And he’s worried he upset you. So do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.” She pinched the bridge of her nose when a bellow of laughter echoed down the hall. Andy. Probably hearing what he’d seen out in the hall. Great. Her humiliation was nearly complete.
From the sounds of it, Andy was busting a gut in hysterical laughter.
Something smashed. Crap, hopefully it wasn’t that big antique mirror over the dresser. Or if it was, she hoped it had fallen right on Andy’s head. And maybe Scott’s too.
Chad stalked to the bedroom and threw open the door. “You mind—” Whatever he said from there she lost when he closed the door behind him. Less than thirty seconds later, he returned, shaking his head.
“What did they break?”
“Andy dropped a vase. I told him he’s got to either find a replacement or I’ll take it out of his next paycheck.” Chad stopped in the middle of the room and jammed his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he watched her. “So, you going to tell me what happened?”
“Look, Chad. I appreciate you putting me in charge of this op, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to replace me. I want to transfer to another office—maybe Miami or Chicago.”
Somewhere far from D.C. and Sam Watson. She’d move to Spain if they had an office there.
“Sam said to expect that. He’s instructed me to do anything you ask, to tell you he’ll give you a good recommendation, pay for your moving expenses, whatever you need.”
Probably worried about getting sued. But could she sue him when she had been a willing participant?
“Thing is, I don’t want to transfer you. Not without knowing what happened to make you want to run.”
“Then I’ll quit, and you can discuss it with my lawyer.” Her eyes burned, matching the fire roiling in her gut.
“Why do you need a lawyer, Rosie?” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his words out. “Did Sam hurt you? Because if that mofo did, I’ll take him down myself.”
“No, he didn’t hurt me.” What did it say that all these guys thought Sam was capable of rape? Did he have a history of violence that she di
dn’t know about?
“I wish you’d trust me,” Chad said softly. “Not a word you tell me will be repeated. Scouts’ honor.” He held up three fingers and smiled, something that took about ten years off him.
She started to say she’d rather not, but realized that if she did see a lawyer, she’d have to describe—in graphic detail—exactly what had happened and he’d find out anyway. Screw the lawyer. “Just replace me, Chad. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Chad sighed and gestured her to sit on the couch. After she’d settled in place, he sat on the chair across from her and placed his right ankle on the opposite knee. He leaned back and regarded her for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, not demanding. “You know, I think I can guess what happened tonight. Sam finally admitted he’s attracted to you, didn’t he?”
“Finally?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, sounding as tiny as she felt. What was it with everyone insisting Sam was interested in her? He’d not made a move toward her on their date. Tonight was…an aberration, that’s all.
“Sam’s been interested in you from the first time he met you. Yet in all that time, he’s never made a move on you. He’s never acted inappropriately. He’s never used his position to his advantage over you, has he?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“And even though he’s interested in you, he won’t push you if you’re not interested in him.” His ankle dropped to the floor and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But you are interested in him, aren’t you?”
“No! No.” Even she could hear the weakness behind her denial. She jumped up from the chair and faced the window, hoping he couldn’t see the blush on her face.
“Rosie, when Sam’s in your line of sight, you put out every sexual non-verbal message ever documented—you touch your hair, you straighten your clothing, you cross and uncross your legs, you even lean in his direction—standing or sitting. And this morning—in the firing range—as soon as you realized he was there, you bent down and waggled your butt in his face.”
“I was pulling up my socks!” Oh, Lord, she’d tried to be so cool, tried not to broadcast how attractive she found Sam yet Chad could read her as if she had Horny for Sam tattooed on her forehead.
Chad shook his head. “Okay, then how about later when we were talking in the office about the photographs? Don’t try to tell me your mind was on our conversation. You were watching Sam—your pupils had dilated, your breathing pattern shallowed and quickened. You were so turned on Kris had to physically touch you to get your attention.”
She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the blood that rushed to her face. When she’d first joined Hauberk and started training in New York, the head of the team had said she had a transparent face. Rick had spent hours teaching her to mask her emotions but obviously she was still easily read. She should have realized that others, especially a former FBI agent would be even more skilled at reading her.
“Admit it, Rosie,” Chad continued, “you’re just as attracted to Sam as he is to you. And that scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not scared.” Try terrified.
“Sam’s one of the good guys. If you’ve said no, he’ll back off. I guarantee it. He’s not going to hold a grudge; he’s not going to sabotage your evaluations or put you in harm’s way.” He leaned back in the chair, hooking one arm over the back. “But why is the idea of him being interested in you making you run? Is there something in your past I should know about? Some old boyfriend you’ve got hidden in your closet? Most women are flattered…” He paused. “Is that it? You think he’s just out to add a notch to his bedpost?”
“Maybe.” Yes.
“I don’t think he is. Sam’s held off on his attraction for you too long if he was trying to play you like that.”
“Perhaps. I don’t know. But he’s not only my boss but my principal now and every rule about guarding a client is that emotions interfere with providing good protection.”
“Normally I’d agree that a relationship could get in the way. But in this case, I had my reasons for putting you in charge.” He held up his fist and unfurled one finger. “First, you’re a better protective officer than you give yourself credit for. I wouldn’t have put you in charge if I didn’t think you capable. ” Another finger unfurled. “Second, you have an intuitive sense of who to trust and who not to—and people will tell you things they wouldn’t tell me. Third, you have a way of getting people to do what you want them to do instead of what they want to do. And that’s a crucial skill for whoever is in charge of guarding Sam. I know him, he sets his mind on something and he’s bound and determined to do things his way. Got him in trouble a couple times at Quantico. Luckily for him it usually worked out in his favor. If I put Walters in charge—or Phillips—Sam will override them.”
“But he won’t me?”
Chad shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s important to him to prove his confidence in you. He won’t want to embarrass you, or worry you. He’ll argue with you, loudly and often, in fact I think he gets off watching you get angry. But when it comes down to it, he’ll do what you tell him to do.”
“So you want me to use his attraction to me to keep him in place.” So she’d gotten the leader’s position thanks to a strange form of sexual discrimination. She had to use her feminine attributes to keep a man in line. Oh, brother.
“I want to keep Sam safe and I’ll use any weapon at my disposal to achieve that. Because not only is he my friend, but without Sam Watson at the helm, Hauberk won’t survive and we’ll all find ourselves out of jobs. Which brings me back to your request for a transfer.
“I need you, Rosie. The entire Hauberk company needs you. I’m not telling you to sleep with Sam. I’m not telling you to put up with anything he says or does that makes you feel uncomfortable. You have my permission to slap him in the face or knee him in the balls if you have to, though I doubt Sam will give you a reason. It won’t affect your performance review, I promise. So my question to you is—will you stay on as lead op?”
—
When he checked the text message, he started chuckling.
“What is it?” his wife asked as she accelerated up the ramp to the I-35E out of Dallas. “There a problem?”
“No. No problem. Just a little project I set into motion is finally coming together.”
“Oh. That’s good.” She shot him a look sideways. “Anything I should know about?”
“Nope. Better that you don’t.”
“Plausible deniability?”
“Something like that.” Sam Watson had just put himself in a very uncomfortable position over a woman. Just like Sam had put him in a few months before. And he was going to enjoy every single minute of that smug bastard’s downfall.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Sam walked into the kitchen and found Kris sitting at the counter, eating the remnants of an omelet. Kris put down his fork and narrowed his eyes. “So you decide to fire me yet? Say I was insubordinate or some such?”
“Nope. You’re not fired. I appreciate that you were protecting a co-worker. I’d expect nothing less of a Hauberk employee.”
Kris hesitated, then nodded. “Just don’t forget that warning I gave you last night. I know a half dozen other fellas who would be equally peeved if you were to mistreat Rosie.”
“Hard to forget a threat to have a part of your anatomy used as a cat snack.”
While he was pouring himself his first cup of coffee, Sam remembered how Kris had stalked into the apartment the night before, kicking the door closed with his foot. “If you ever touch Rosie, or any woman, when she doesn’t want you to, I’m going to hunt you down, cut off your dick and feed it to the lions at the zoo. You hear me?”
Sam had stilled, his insides freezing like he’d swallowed five buckets of ice cubes. Had she told them he’d forced her, assaulted her? She’d never told him to stop—she’d even returned his kiss, told him w
hat she liked, encouraged him. He would have stopped if she’d said the slightest word. But then again with his 6’5 compared to her 5’1, no judge or jury would find it hard to believe she’d felt threatened.
At least Chad had stopped in after talking to Rosie, and told him she’d agreed to stay as lead op. But it hurt like hell when Chad had told him her conditions. At the end of the assignment, Rosie would be transferred to the Miami office and he’d never attempt to see her again.
His impulsive action last night had not only failed, it had exploded in his face in catastrophic proportions. He was surprised the whole event hadn’t shown up on someone’s seismograph.
When the doorbell rang, Kris sauntered out of the kitchen.
“Heya, Phillips,” he heard Kris say. “I thought Andy was driving today?”
“He’s off doing some errand for Chad, so Rosie sent in the A-team which means you’re stuck with me today, Junior,” Phillips replied, his words clipped. “Mr. Watson ready to roll?”
“Hey, boss? You ready to go?” Kris called.
Sam grabbed his laptop case. “Just as long as we’re not stoppin’ off at the Zoo,” he muttered to himself.
As he approached, Phillips stepped into his path and got so close Sam could tell he’d used Scope that morning instead of Listerine. “Rosie said you two got in an argument last night, but we both know she was lying. From the way her hair was all mussed up, I figure you put some moves on her.” He paused as if waiting for Sam to defend himself.
Sam didn’t.
“But see, I don’t think you got to finish what you started, whatever it was, because you were still sporting one helluva boner when you came chasing after her. And since Rosie refuses to say anything, I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. But I’m warnin’ you here and now, whether you’re my boss or not, if you ever touch that little lady when she’s not willing, I will rip off your balls and shove ’em down your throat. We clear?”
Kris grabbed Scott’s arm. “Hey, back off—”
Shaking his head, Sam left his two operatives to bicker in his foyer and stalked down the hallway. Just what he needed, some whackjob was stalking him, his lead op wanted a transfer or else she’d file a sexual harassment suit—justifiably so after the way he’d behaved the night before, and his two secondary CPOs who were supposed to be guarding him were threatening to a) feed his dick to the lions, and b) let him choke on his gonads. Goddamn, why didn’t he just stand out front with a target on his chest and hope whoever was gunning for him put him out of his misery?
