Four Simple Words: A Badass and the Billionaires Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 4)

by Mary J. Williams

  "She was scared," Destry shrugged. "I took the time to talk to her. Nothing anyone else wouldn't have done."

  "You know better." Liam rested his arm on the back of the loveseat. "Servants are people, a fact many employers seem to forget."

  Long before they met, Destry learned that Liam treated his employees at The Stanton Plaza well because when Calder was offered the hotel ballroom for her charity gala, she did her research. She refused to use a venue where the staff was harangued and harassed by management. Not only did Liam pay well above the industry average, but he also offered benefits, health insurance, and daycare included.

  "I have a million questions—"

  "A million?" Destry crossed her legs. "I'm not interesting enough to warrant half as many."

  "Give me a million and one and I wouldn't run out."

  "Why don't we start with one and see where it leads."

  "The night we met. How do you think we ended up in the same bar, in the same small town?"

  How indeed? Destry contemplated the answer while Blanche delivered their snacks. As she poured the tea, lemon for him, black for her, she wondered once more at the circumstances that brought them together, not once, but twice. She had more than a few questions of her own. Not a million, but enough to keep them busy for quite a while.

  "Was our meeting a coincidence?"

  "Do you have another explanation?" Liam countered.

  "Do you?"

  Taking a plate, he selected a scone, several cookies, and two finger sandwiches the assistant cook added at her own initiative.

  "As much as I enjoy a game of round robin Q&A, one of us needs to actually give an answer. Don't you agree?"

  "One of us has to be the bigger person," Destry taunted. When Liam simply took a bite of his sandwich, she relented. "Well played, Mr. Stanton."

  "Thank you, Ms. Benedict."

  "Coincidences happen all the time." Destry's sisters and the men they loved were perfect examples. Their courtships wouldn't have happened without one happy coincidence after another. "My job brought me to the town of Manfred. My need to blow off a little steam took me to the Take-Down Bar and Grill. A desire to play pool, and the sight of your excellent backside as you bent over the table, led me to you."

  The mention of Liam's ass might seem a bit risqué for afternoon tea with a relative stranger. However, Destry had sex with the man, no reason to pretend otherwise.

  "You like my ass?"

  Obviously pleased, his lips moved into a cocky grin. Lucky for him, Destry considered arrogance—dispersed judiciously—to be an asset. She returned his smile with a little cocky of her own and shook her head.

  "You don't get two questions in a row. My turn." She paused as if to consider what to ask—a small ploy since she already knew. "Why were you in Manfred doing your best mountain man imitation?"

  "You think the beard made me a mountain man?" Liam chuckled. "Obviously, you've never met one in person. At best, I was mountain man-light."

  Seemed Liam Stanton was a bit of a smartass—Destry approved. A quality she recognized since she'd been called one more often than she could recall. If meant as a putdown, the shot missed the mark. She was damn proud of her smartassery.

  "I'll bow to your superior knowledge on the subject. However, you didn't answer my question."

  "Did you know Manfred is surrounded by National Park Service land?"

  Destry shook her head.

  "Are you a park ranger in your spare time?"

  "Another question?" Liam tsked.

  "More of a codicil to the first. Which wouldn't be necessary if you'd give me an answer."

  "Are you always so impatient? You don't have to answer."

  "I didn't plan to."

  "You were impatient the night we met, remember?" Heat flickered in Liam's blue eyes—not a full-fledged flame, but a definite spark. "You couldn't get my clothes off fast enough."

  "Apparently you suffer from faulty memories, Mr. Stanton. I was too busy with my own attire to worry about yours."

  "But you were in a hurry."

  Eyes locked with his, Destry sipped her tea with casual ease as if their conversation revolved around the weather, not smoking hot sex.

  "Did you complain? Nope. You were too busy shouting, ooh, baby, yes, baby, you're the best, baby. I didn't say anything at the time, but for future reference, I'm nobody's baby."

  "What choice did I have? You wouldn't tell me your name." Slowly, Liam rubbed his clean-shaven chin. His movement was as relaxed as hers, but the heat in his gaze ticked up several degrees. "You said, for future reference. When we have sex again?"

  "When? Interesting choice of words." She shook her head. "Sorry. Too many questions, Mr. Stanton. I need an answer."

  "As do I." Liam sighed when Destry remained silent. "Why was I in Manfred? Vacation. I'm not a park ranger, but I have a friend who is. He knows where the fish bite best."

  "Must have been a long vacation if the length of your beard and hair were any indication." Destry smiled when she noticed Liam's raised brow. "An observation, not a question."

  "Unlike you, I'll give you one for free. I was in Washington State for a little over a month. I go every year." He set his cup on the table. "My turn. If you were to write an essay to describe your job in the most comprehensive manner possible, what would you say?"

  Destry was impressed. Liam formed his question in a way that, if she were fair, gave her little wiggle room. She either told him what he wanted to know, or she reneged on her part of the agreement. The work she did wasn't top secret. In fact, if people didn't know about her and her special services, she'd be out of work pretty fast

  However, as with all aspects of her life, Destry shied away from publicity. If she thought Liam's goal was to take her story to the press or use her as cocktail party banter, she'd end their interesting little game and show him the door.

  "Why do you want to know?"

  Another question asked out of turn, but Liam didn't quibble.

  "Two reasons. Though I entered toward the end, I was part of your last job."

  "Willingly," Destry reminded him.

  "Most willingly," Liam admitted. "But if I were an accessory to something less than legal, I'd like to know."

  "Afraid the law might come calling?"

  "Not in the least."

  "Blackmail?" she teased. However, after all the things she'd seen in her life, she never ruled anything out.

  "To what end?"

  Liam nodded when she held up the teapot. Destry filled his cup, adding a slice of lemon.

  "Money? Sex?" She shrugged. "Mischief, mayhem?"

  "I don't want or need your money, Destry. As for your body? Mmm." The sound came from deep in his throat, half sigh, half growl. "The next time we have sex, you will come to me free will intact, or not at all."

  The next time they had sex. Liam was very sure of himself. A man with his money and power would have to be. But he'd never come up against a woman like Destry. Even if she wanted him—the attraction was undeniable—she'd never needed a man, and never would.

  "What's the second part?"

  "Second part?" Liam frowned, then smiled. "Sorry, the image of you naked made me forget where we were."

  "Flattery, Mr. Stanton?"

  "Fact, Ms. Benedict. You have a body designed to scramble any man's brain." He smiled. "I should know. But back to where we were. The second reason I want to know about your job? Nothing more nefarious than simple curiosity."

  "Okay."

  "Okay, you'll tell me? Or, okay, hit the road, Jack?"

  "I thought your name was Liam."

  He rolled his eyes.

  "Funny."

  "Not even close." Destry popped a cookie into her mouth. "Good thing my grandfather left me a nice nest egg because I'd starve as a standup comic."

  "Does your job—still need an explanation, by the way—pay well?"

  "Depends. The last one, Har
vey Clyde was his name, came with a hefty bounty."

  "You're a bounty hunter?"

  "Sometimes."

  "And the rest of the time?"

  Funny how hard something she took for granted was to describe. Perhaps the easiest way would be to start at the beginning.

  "How much do you know about my father?" When Liam hesitated, she rephrased the question. "What did you find when you googled me? And, yes. I did some research on you, too. My guess is you found as much about me as I did about you."

  "In other words, not a lot." Liam finished his tea.

  "Would you like something stronger?"

  "As a brace against what you're about to say?"

  "I've never driven a man to drink." As far as she knew.

  "Good to know." Liam settled back in his seat. "To quote my father, never use alcohol as a crutch. Pleasure only, and then in moderation."

  "Sounds like a wise man."

  "The wisest I've ever known."

  The affection in Liam's voice was palpable. Must be nice to have a father whose advice you could trust, she thought with more irony than envy.

  "The easiest way to describe Miller Destry is to say he was born with ambition, just the wrong kind. He didn't want to be a fireman, or doctor, or veterinarian. Miller wanted—wants—to be a big man, and he thought crime would be the easiest path."

  "Where did he get the idea crime is easy?"

  "Same place he gets all his ideas. His vivid but faulty imagination."

  Destry stopped when she realized how much she'd said and how much she might have said if she hadn't come to her senses. She rarely shared information about her father, and certainly not with someone she barely knew.

  She didn't have information to put Miller behind bars—a fact the F.B.I. refused to believe. But she knew enough, if put in the hands of the wrong people, to cause him grief. Whether Liam was simply curious or had a different motive, unless her father turned to murder, she would never betray him.

  Some might say Destry's loyalty was misplaced, and she couldn't argue. Miller wasn't born with the brains or work ethic to be a successful criminal. What kept him out of jail, failed scheme, after failed scheme, was his utter lack of morals. If given a choice between himself and his daughter, he'd throw her under the bus without a twinge of regret.

  "I don't care about your father, Destry."

  "Wish I could say the same." Destry rubbed her eyes. Whenever she thought too long or hard about the man who helped give her life, her head started to hurt. Luckily, after so many breaks, her heart was Miller-proof. "You want to know what I do, not why."

  "The why interests me," he said with a steady gaze. "Some other time. Tell me about you."

  "My least favorite topic." Her legs curled under her, Destry searched for the words to describe her job. "Have you ever heard of an old TV show called Have Gun, Will Travel?"

  "Sounds familiar."

  "Paladin, the main character, helped people when the law couldn't—or wouldn't."

  "Like The Equalizer?"

  "Similar. Paladin was less violent than Denzel Washington. Though if the show were made today, the body count would undoubtedly go up."

  "From what I saw, you have a lot of Denzel in you."

  "When necessary." Destry wouldn't sugarcoat who she was. "Anyone who carries a gun should be prepared to use it."

  She expected Liam to ask if she ever killed someone. Either he didn't care or didn't want to know.

  "How do your clients get in touch? I assume you don't advertise."

  "Word of mouth. A friend of a friend. I hear the facts, do some research. If I believe the accused is guilty, I take the job."

  "Have you ever been wrong?" Liam asked without judgment. "Brought in an innocent person?"

  "Not as far as I know." If Destry started to question her instincts, she would stop—immediately. "I'm not a vigilante, Liam. The goal is justice."

  "And Harvey Clyde?"

  "He's in jail—job complete. The rest is up to the lawyers and the courts."

  "Sounds dangerous." Liam rubbed his neck, a reminder of the cut she received the night they met.

  "Danger doesn't frighten me."

  "What does?"

  "Stagnation. The same thing, day after day." She didn't know why, but she wanted Liam to understand. "I love my home, my sisters. In my eyes, New York is the greatest city in the world; I wouldn't be happy anywhere else. Yet, my feet get itchy if I stay in one place for too long."

  "You crave adventure."

  He did understand.

  "Like my next breath." Destry looked around the room. "The best thing about leaving? Coming home."

  "If you had to choose?"

  Destry didn't have to search for an answer. She knew where she belonged. Where she was the most herself. Here. With her family. Her sisters held her heart—they were her heart. Without them… the thought was too horrifying to contemplate.

  "I'm lucky. I don't have to choose."

  Liam nodded, seemingly content to let her answer—or non-answer—stand. He looked at his watch.

  "Five fifteen? Damn." Contrition mixed with regret in Liam's eyes. "I didn't plan to highjack your afternoon. If you'd like, I'll apologize."

  Following his lead, Destry stood.

  "Would the apology be sincere?"

  "No. But I'd try."

  "Your company was welcome, Mr. Stanton," she said, laughing as she held out her hand. "You answered a few of my questions and didn't complain when I rambled on. I hope you weren't too bored."

  "Not bored, fascinated."

  Afraid he might kiss her hand, worse, afraid she might like it if he did, Destry stepped back, breaking their physical connection. As she turned to walk him out, he stopped her.

  "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

  "No."

  Liam didn't look surprised, he looked stunned.

  "No? After all the words we exchanged today, all I get for an answer to my last question is no?"

  "You're right. What was I thinking?" She gave him a polite smile. "No, thank you."

  Liam's frown deepened.

  "Why?" he demanded.

  "I don't date wealthy men. Shall we go?"

  "Wait." Liam moved between Destry and the sitting room door.

  "Yes?" She crossed her arms as her impatience escalated.

  "You, Ms. Benedict, are a snob."

  "In a way, I suppose you're right," she admitted freely. "Doesn't change anything."

  "I see. My father was right."

  Destry knew she shouldn't ask. The best thing would be to hustle him out of the room, out of her house, and out of her life. But when he looked at her with puppy dog, sad eyes, she couldn't help herself.

  "Right about what?"

  "A bit of advice he gave me before my first date. Son, he said, if you jump into bed with a woman, she'll lose all respect for you. The milk and the cow, I'm sure you've heard the analogy."

  "I have." Destry's lips twitched. "Never applied to a man."

  "The point is the same. I gave you my body with little effort on your part." Liam, all six feet of him, somehow managed to look coy. "Guess you're already on to greener, less easy, pastures."

  Destry placed her hand over her mouth and bit her tongue. But nothing would stop the rumbling. Finally, she gave in and let the laughter burst out. Liam joined her, smug with victory.

  "Got you," he grinned.

  Wiping her eyes, Destry's head fell back. Damn the man. If he'd cajoled or begged or bullied, she would have stood her ground. But he made her laugh, long and hard, from deep in her belly. How could she resist?

  "One dinner." Another chuckle bubbled out. "Only dinner."

  "Dancing after?"

  She steeled her resolve. If only she didn't love to dance.

  "Fine."

  "A nightcap?" Emboldened, his grin widened.

  "Don't push your luck."

  Liam paused b
y the front door. When he raised a hand, brushing the hair at the base of her neck, Destry waited for him to move in for a kiss, not sure if she'd accept the gesture or say no. He didn't give her the chance to do either.

  "Smaller bandage," he said with a nod.

  The cut? While she worried about a kiss, he was worried about the cut on her neck? Destry didn't know if she was flattered by his concern over her neck or insulted by his lack of interest in her lips.

  "Is seven good for you?"

  "Sounds good."

  "See you then."

  Destry watched the door close behind him. Though she'd broken her no rich men rule, she wasn't sorry. One date wouldn't hurt. Right? Liam was easy to talk to, very easy on the eyes, and best of all, he wasn't like the men she usually met. They would have a nice meal, dance, share a final drink, and he would bring her home where she would say good night—nothing more.

  Sex would be a mistake, she decided with regret. She liked him, and the last thing Destry wanted was for Liam to think they could be anything more than friends.

  Taking her phone from her pocket, she dialed Dee Wakefield.

  "Destry. I'm on my way out the door." She sounded frazzled—unusual for the normally grounded private investigator.

  "Everything okay?" Dee had become more than an employee, she was a friend.

  "My mother is in town. We see each other maybe twice a year—once too many."

  "Say no more." Destry understood better than most about complicated mother/daughter relationships. "Can you spare a second?"

  "A second sounds about right."

  "Have you had time to dig up any information on Liam Stanton?"

  "Planned to start tomorrow. You said there was no rush. Has something changed?"

  Just an unexpected date with the man.

  "Still no hurry," she assured Dee. "Good luck with your mother."

  "Thanks. Talk to you soon."

  Destry sighed. Maybe she was a little less sure of herself about Liam than she thought. But she wasn't an inexperienced girl about to go on her first date. She was a confident woman who could handle any situation.

  Even an evening with the very interesting, very sexy, Liam Stanton.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~~~~

  THE EVENING BEGAN the way most of her dates started since her first when she was fifteen. She primped, and her sisters watched, giving their opinions whether she asked or not.