by Joss Wood
It had been colder than a witch’s tit in Kiev, Kai remembered, and the spoiled son of the oligarch had been held in an upscale home and hadn’t experienced much in the way of deprivation, unlike other hostages they’d rescued before. He’d whined the whole way through his rescue, which led to Axl threatening to leave him there if he didn’t shut the fuck up. After taking one look at Axl’s I-will-wipe-the-floor-with-your-face expression, Alexi Akulov had snapped his mouth shut and allowed them to get him the hell out of the house and country.
“And how did you connect that kidnapping rescue to us?”
Reagan smiled. “I asked how his friend heard of the negotiator and Perry said that it was word of mouth, that people passed on the name Morrigan, along with a call-center number.”
Kai cursed silently. “Morrigan . . . Sounds Irish?”
Reagan narrowed her eyes. “Cut the bullshit, Kai. Morrigan is a Celtic goddess of war, just like Caswallawn is a Celtic god of war. I grew up with Mike’s obsession with Celtic mythology; did you honestly think I wouldn’t make the connection?” Reagan demanded.
Kai threw his hands up in the air. Reagan was far too smart for her—their—own good. “Ok, yes, Axl is the negotiator and sometimes we do rescues,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Thought so.” Reagan looked smug. “I want in. I want to be part of that team.”
“Hell no!” Apart from the fact that Reagan had no combat and rescue experience, Axl would throw a shit fit of epic proportions.
“Not going to happen, not ever,” Kai told her. “I’m not putting you in any danger and Axl would kill us if he knew that we were having this conversation.”
“Axl is not the boss of me.”
Kai didn’t bother to remind her that he was, actually, one of her bosses. She and Axl needed to work out their own issues. “And Mike would come back and haunt us.”
Reagan wrinkled her nose.
“Why do you want to do this anyway?” he demanded.
“I’m bored.” Reagan pouted. “Bored with personal protection, with nothing happening, with sitting around, hoping for some action. Bored, bored, bored.”
Dammit. Kai sighed. Like him, when Reagan was bored she tended to get into trouble. If Sawyer were here, then Reagan’s boredom would be his problem. He skimmed his eyes across the pile of folders of clients needing protection and the solution popped into his head. An added bonus would be that it would piss Axl off.
Kai grinned and pulled out a file from the bottom of the pile on his desk. He flipped it open, skimmed over it, and sighed theatrically. “Guess you’re not interested in being Knox Callow’s arm candy, then?”
Reagan sat up straighter at the mention of the famous ex–Formula 1racing driver turned Hollywood heartthrob. “Uh . . . maybe?”
“Maybe, my ass,” Kai shot back, grinning.
“Why does he need protection?”
“He’s had a couple of burglaries but nothing of value has been taken, suggesting that the perp is looking for something specific. He’s also been threatened. He thinks it’s unnecessary but his manager wants him protected and they want to keep his image as an action hero intact. Hence the arm-candy cover. The police are investigating and they don’t expect the assignment will last more than a month or so.”
“It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.” Reagan put the back of her hand to her forehead, as dramatic as always. Then she sat up and pointed a finger at Kai. “I still want in on the rescue missions.” Before Kai could object, she spoke again. “So, tell me about the cute baker and her crazy dog.”
“She is not cute.” Sexy, hot, gorgeous worked but not cute.
“Kai?”
Jenny stood in his doorway, a worried look on her face. He’d only been at this job for a morning and he already recognized her we-have-a-problem face. “What’s up?”
“Sawyer usually asks the Mercy Inn to deliver lunch out here to our clients, but when I called them to double check, they told me that their chef has pneumonia, that they have back-to-back conferences, and they can’t help us out. The other hotels are fully booked too and don’t do outside catering anyway.”
Right. Plan B. Except that he didn’t have a plan B. He didn’t think that he could toss their clients a couple of MREs and some sodas. Sawyer would, undoubtedly, frown on that.
“No catering companies in Mercy?” Reagan asked.
“Not that I know of,” Jenny replied.
Except that Flick had been talking about starting one. He glanced at the pastry box, saw the number of the bakery underneath the logo, and punched in the number. He ignored his thumping heart rate as he waited for Flick to pick up his call.
“I need lunch for ten people tomorrow,” he told her after a quick greeting. This was business, he reminded himself; there was no reason to get excited about hearing her voice. God, a week in Mercy and he was turning into a wimp.
Flick was silent for a minute before speaking. “I can do that. What type of lunch? Cooked, cold, starters, desserts? Do you have utensils, crockery? Should I supply any drinks?”
Hell, he didn’t know. Rolling his eyes at his own incompetence, he shrugged before remembering that Flick couldn’t see him. “I haven’t a freakin’ clue. Speak to Jenny, and have it here by twelve thirty tomorrow—lunch is scheduled for one.”
“Yes, sir!” Flick snapped and Kai grinned at her smart mouth. “And, Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“Because it’s such short notice, I’ll have to charge Caswallawn an extra ten percent.” The amusement he heard in her voice punched him in the gut.
But still . . . huh. The shark. “It’s not like I have much of a choice,” he grumbled.
“But because you’re my first client, I’ll give you a ten percent discount. Before I talk to Jenny, who actually knows what’s she’s doing, I want to hear whether that young girl found you today.”
“Reagan told me that someone was looking for Cas,” Kai said, happy to stay on the phone. He felt strangely reluctant to hand the call over to Jenny.
“Uh, no, she asked directions to Caswallawn, but she was looking for you.”
Now that really didn’t make sense, Kai thought as he handed over the phone to Jenny. He didn’t know any teenagers and he definitely didn’t know any teenage girls. Why would one be looking for him?
Weird.
***
The next day, in the slick Caswallawn boardroom, Flick arranged her platters on the conference table. After a brief discussion, she and Jenny had agreed on assorted sandwiches, mini baguettes, mini croissant sandwiches, a seasonal green salad, a pasta salad, and assorted mini cookies and brownies. It wasn’t Michelin-star cooking but it sure was nice to be doing something different, she thought, pulling out sets of utensils wrapped in pretty paper napkins.
Cas, as Kai and Sawyer called their business, was her first client, and she was determined to do a good job for them. It had nothing to do with impressing Kai, she tried to convince herself. This was purely business, the first step on a new career journey.
But if this had nothing to do with impressing Kai, then why had she spent far too much time deciding what she was going to wear, taking time to apply her makeup so that she looked like she wasn’t wearing any at all, and pinning her hair up into a messy style that took the best part of an hour?
And why did her head fly up every time she heard footsteps in the passage beyond the open door? She’d done it so often in the past half hour that she was in danger of getting a repetitive-strain injury in her neck.
Because she was utterly absurd, that was why.
Business.
Flick gritted her teeth. Be professional, play it cool. Unfortunately, cool went out of the window when Kai strode into the boardroom a minute later. Flick had to grip the back of the closest chair as blood drained from her brain and headed south, fast. Dear God, he shouldn’t b
e allowed to walk around looking that hot, she thought, spellbound. Her second thought was that he should always wear solid black.
His spotless long-sleeved black Henley was tight across his chest and arms but skimmed his abdomen, and his cargo pants emphasized the length of his legs and would show off his spectacular butt to perfection, she was sure. Turn around. Please, please turn around.
His hair was pushed off his forehead and he looked harassed and pissed off.
When the neurons in her brain started to fire up again she managed to find some words. “Hi. You look”—Magnificent? Sexy? Doable?—“stressed.”
Kai looked around to see if anyone was in earshot before replying. “Damn civilians,” he growled. “One of the girls broke a nail and wailed about that, the other said that the protective vest looked ugly. One of the guys got nailed in the thigh and is bitching about how much it stings. He should try getting shot by a real bullet!”
The last drop of moisture in her mouth disappeared. “Have you been shot?”
“No, but I’ve seen the damage.” A curious mixture of resignation, horror, and sadness crossed Kai’s face and Flick suspected that the memories of what he’d seen still haunted him. He crossed the room to where she stood and reached for a bottle of water. Cracking the seal, he removed the top and swallowed half the contents in one long sip. He hadn’t shaved again today and Flick wished she could rub her cheek against that soft, short beard. It would scratch and tickle—
“This looks sensational, Flick,” Kai said and Flick jerked her eyes to his face. Instead of looking at the food those gold eyes were looking at her and for one minute Flick thought that he might be talking about her and not the food. His next words booted that thought off a cliff. “I love pasta salad. And, God, I think I’m addicted to those caramel cupcakes.”
Nope, he was definitely talking about the food. Sigh. “Glad you like the look of it, but maybe you should taste it first before handing out compliments.”
“Can’t wait. I’m starving,” Kai said. “The group should be here in twenty minutes or so.” They both turned as someone entered the boardroom and Flick was surprised to see the teenager she’d given directions to the day before. She was wearing the same pair of skinny black jeans and the same sneakers, but today she sported a tight red T-shirt under a brown jacket. She also wore an expression of belligerent dread.
“I’m looking for Kai Manning.”
“That’s me. Who are you?” Kai asked, swiping a cookie from the plate in front of him. He ignored Flick’s squawk and popped the whole thing into his mouth.
“Do you remember someone by the name of Jane Pike?”
Kai thought for moment and Flick knew the exact moment when the penny dropped. His Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes turned speculative as his body went into what she thought might be combat mode. Tense and alert, he looked like he was ready for anything. “Yeah, I do.”
Where from? Who was she? It took a great deal of Flick’s willpower to keep those questions behind her teeth.
The girl’s face was equally blank but Flick saw her hand shake when she pushed her wool cap back, revealing honey-blond curls. “I’m Tally Pike, her daughter.”
Tally pushed that still-shaking hand into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a grubby, worn envelope, which she threw onto the boardroom table, aiming it in Kai’s direction. “I didn’t want to do this but she made me promise. Just so you know, I’m eighteen and an adult and I don’t have to do a damn thing I don’t want to.”
She was only a bit more than a decade older than this girl, Flick thought, and she still didn’t feel like an adult, so she thought that Tally might be protesting a bit too much.
Kai didn’t take his eyes off Tally as he picked the envelope up off the table. When his attention was transferred to the paper, Flick saw Tally quickly wipe her mouth with her hand, dropping it when she saw that Flick was watching her. Flick looked at Kai, who was skimming the letter. He frowned and then he seemed to go back and read it again.
Something major was happening, Flick thought, right here and right now. This was a moment that could change lives, Flick realized as she stepped away from the table. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be standing between them. She needed to leave, now.
“Fucking hell.”
Kai’s hard, icy voice pinned her to the spot. She threw an anxious look at him but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Tally, his expression a curious mixture of fascination and horror.
“When did she die?” he demanded.
Tally lifted a thin shoulder. “Four months back. I wanted to get this over with three months ago but you were out of the country and she asked me to give you the letter personally. So here I am.” Tally jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. “So, I did what she asked. I don’t need you in my life and, let’s be honest, the last thing you need is a teenager to look after.”
Kai carefully refolded the piece of paper and slipped it into the envelope, which he slid into the back pocket of his cargo pants. “Where are you staying?” he barked.
“At the motel on the outside of town,” Tally replied, lifting her chin. God, she was so young, but trying so hard not to give a damn, Flick thought.
Kai glanced at his watch. “Stay there. I’ve got some shit to do but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Why?”
“To talk this through. That’s what adults do,” Kai said and, judging by the blush that stained her cheekbones, his barb hit its target. “I’ll meet you there at around five, maybe six.”
“I just promised to deliver the letter. I don’t have to hang around if I don’t want to.”
Kai’s expression darkened further, but Flick didn’t think he saw the panic in Tally’s eyes when he suggested that they meet at the motel, didn’t see her biting the inside of her cheek. Flick couldn’t blame her—she would be scared of meeting a stranger in her motel room at night too. Especially one who looked as forbidding and hard as nails as Kai.
“Maybe you can meet on more neutral ground,” Flick suggested and Tally’s expression lightened a fraction. “I’d suggest the bakery but we’re closed then, so what about the diner on Main Street? It’s easy to find and Kai can buy you dinner.” Because good grief, the child looked like she needed one.
“I can come to the motel—”
Flick widened her eyes at him and he finally caught a clue. “Oh, okay, the diner. At six?” he asked Tally.
Tally hunched her shoulders. “’Spose so. Though I’m not sure what we’re going to discuss.”
“Six. Don’t make me look for you,” Kai said in a biting voice before striding to the door and walking through it.
After a few seconds’ silence Tally turned to Flick and shook her head. “Holy crap. He’s huge. And scary!”
“He’s all bark and no bite.” Well, that was a lie, Flick thought. She had no doubt that Kai could bite when he needed to.
“Have a cookie,” Flick added when she saw Tally eyeing the platters on the table.
“I’d prefer one of those baguettes.” Tally grabbed a napkin before picking one up and pulling the roll apart. “What’s the filling?”
“Hummus, roasted peppers, black olives, mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes, arugula, and a Greek salad dressing.”
“Very Mediterranean.” Tally took a bite, chewed slowly and swallowed. “The hummus needs more garlic, and the dressing needs more seasoning.”
Flick frowned. Not many people criticized her cooking and when they did, they definitely weren’t teenagers who needed their attitude adjusted. “You a gourmet?”
Tally shrugged and took another bite. “I cook. My mother taught me. She was amazing . . . instinctual, you know.” Tally put down her roll and cut a piece off the uneaten end and offered the plate to Flick. “Taste, and you’ll see that I’m right.”
Flick did what she
was told and popped the piece of roll into her mouth. The kid, dammit, was spot on. The hummus did need more garlic—not a lot but a smidgen more would take it from nice to yum—and the dressing needed salt. “You’re right. I’ll adjust the recipe.”
Tally made short work of the rest of the roll before picking up a cookie. She nibbled at the edge. “But these are amazing.”
“Thanks. I just need to unpack these glasses and I’ll walk out with you. The clients will be coming in to eat any minute, so I have to be quick.”
Tally chewed and swallowed. “Do you want some help?”
“Sure,” Flick replied. She looked a bit more closely at Tally and saw the desolation within the green depths of her eyes, the fear and the fury. She recognized those emotions; hadn’t she experienced all of them in the months after Andy’s and then her mom’s deaths? She couldn’t help her next question—it was who she was, what she did. “Do you want or need some help? If you do, I’m your girl.”
One corner of Tally’s mouth kicked up. “I think that was what my mom was trying to do by sending me to Manning. But I don’t need him, or you, or any help. No offense, but I’m fine.” She banged a glass down on the table with force, and Flick was thankful that it didn’t shatter.
No, you really aren’t, Flick thought silently. But she knew better than to argue with a teenager. “Okay, but if you ever decided that you do, my name is Flick.”
Flick needed another stray in her life like she needed a hole in her head, but she couldn’t help wanting to help this lost and lonely child.
I’m a nurture-holic, Flick admitted. I need a twelve-step program. On the plus side, at least she wasn’t trying to rescue another loser of a man.
Chapter Eight
AbbyM: One Caswallawn partner leaves and another arrives. The new one is scary. Super sexy but super scary. Why is he in town?
WaynesBikes: Don’t care about that but I’d cut off my left nut for that Ducati he came in on. Wicked sweet.
