Guarding Him

by Kori David

  Part of him felt bad about duping her, but he wanted to know more about his bodyguard and spend time with her. This seemed like a good way to do both. “I always want to learn from the best; that’s how I get better. And the fact that you’re a woman makes no difference.” He cocked his head to the side and watched the expressions chase across her face. “But someone’s made you feel that because of your gender, you’re somehow less.”

  Her lips pinched together in bitterness for a nanosecond before she burst out laughing. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. Someone had hurt her. The laugh was genuine, however, and that threw him off.

  “I was in the Army, Ian. Being a woman isn’t easy in our country’s military, no matter how many sensitivity courses they have to take.”

  “Was your father an Army man?” He was curious about her, and she didn’t talk much about herself. Actually, she didn’t say anything about herself. The Army thing was the first real piece of information that he had besides that fact that she had a niece who couldn’t beat her at Candyland. He was sure Isobel had more, but he’d been so set against a bodyguard in the first place that he hadn’t bothered to ask. And now he wanted the information from her, not some file.

  “No. I’m the maverick in a pasture of purebreds.”

  She got to her feet in one lithe move and held her hand out to him, one eyebrow raised. As if he’d refuse the chance to touch her. He’d just spent the last hour with her hands all over his body. Not in the way he typically preferred, and he was beginning to think he had undiscovered masochistic proclivities. But it was clear she was done talking about herself.

  He grabbed her fast and had her down and pinned in a move that he shouldn’t have known, according to her records. He had a few secrets of his own. One of them was knowing how to fight dirty. She didn’t struggle, but the moment she was down, she rolled backward and was up before he could do more than chuckle.

  “You are good.”

  “And you have some hidden talent.”

  Ian shrugged. “Just a lucky grab to make me feel better.”

  She stared at him for a long minute as he slowly got to his feet. “How about you take a shower and I’ll meet you in your office. I’d like you to show me what you’re working on.”

  “You’re on,” he said. “I know a little place that has some of the best clam chowder on the bay for lunch.”

  Nic shook her head. “While lunch out sounds great, we need to minimize risk. We need to stay home unless it’s to go to work or an already planned event that cannot be canceled.”

  “We’ll see,” was all he said. “I’ll be in the office in thirty minutes. The door will be open, so come on in.”

  She nodded and headed up the stairs. “Just as long as you’re fully dressed when I get there.”

  That made him pause. And then it made something inside him boil. “You’ve had to deal with unwanted attention from previous employers?”

  Nic stopped on the top stair and turned to him with a smile, one that reached her eyes and lit her up inside. “You’re some kind of throwback in the chivalry department, aren’t you? Are you worried that my reputation has been tarnished by men with lascivious intentions?”

  He knew she was making fun of him, and in a way, he could understand. He’d never cared before, and God knew, this was one woman who could take care of herself, but he did care. “You’re making fun of me again.”

  “Maybe a little. I just had no idea men like you existed.” She went down to the landing on the second floor. “Don’t worry; my previous employers have only ever made that mistake once.” Then she was gone from view.

  On the way up to the fourth floor, Ian had to laugh at himself. No wonder she looked at him like he had three heads. He was acting out of character, not that he wasn’t naturally well-mannered; his mother had seen to that. But he felt out of depth with Nic. She teased him and laughed at him in ways that the women in his acquaintance didn’t do.

  When had he become so jaded?

  It was something to think about. Maybe he should smile more or make more of an effort to talk to her. When had he begun taking women for granted? Or maybe he’d become used to women taking him for granted. Nic didn’t want anything from him. She was there for a job—his safety, nothing more, nothing less.

  Then why did it bother him that she wasn’t looking at him like a man, but a client? Pushing it out of his head, he got into the cool water of the shower. She’d be in his room soon, and while he was curious what she’d do if he were naked when she got there, he had a feeling the time he’d spent on his back on the mat was nothing comparatively. Then he had to turn the water to a colder setting.

  Masochistic tendencies, indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Kei Whyte wasn’t someone with whom to fuck. Either figuratively or literally. And right now, someone was trying really hard to mess with her hard-won patience. That he happened to be an FBI agent didn’t matter in the least. The fact that he was sitting in her office and, if she killed him, there’d be a bloodstain was more the issue.

  “I don’t care what brought you to San Francisco. I thought I’d made it clear that you and I should never be in the same room again. Ever.”

  Drake Page didn’t change his expression. “What fun would that be?”

  Kei leaned back in her chair, knowing that she would have to listen to what he had to say, whether she wanted to or not. Drake wasn’t alone, but he’d known better than to allow anyone else to come with him. As part of the Behavioral Science Unit out of Quantico, he followed the killers, and he would only be here if there were a serial working the area.

  Kei crossed her arms and waited, unwillingly curious.

  “Do you always have to be this difficult?”

  She refused to say anything else, staring at him with her best bored look. At a couple of hairs over six feet tall, he had at least five inches and over a hundred pounds on her, but he’d never been dumb enough to push it with her. Instead, they warily circled each other when they’d had occasion to meet, which had been exactly twice before.

  His hair wasn’t bureau short, but a shaggy brown beginning to prematurely grey at the temples. Could have been from the job or his family history. His nose had been broken at least twice, and he had a scar that started on his chin and curved halfway down his neck. Whatever caused that scar should have killed him. Instead, it gave him a dangerous look—combined with eyes the color of topaz, and he reminded her of a panther she’d once seen. He moved like that jungle cat as well, long-limbed and sure of himself.

  Drake smirked. The silence should have been awkward, but this was her office, and she’d be damned if she showed any outward curiosity. Besides, she already knew what he wanted, and he might as well stew about it before she helped him—if she decided to help him.

  “We think there’s a serial working the Bay Area.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Obviously. Get to the point.”

  The smirk was still in place, but the muscle in his jaw jumped. He was getting annoyed. Good. She hadn’t asked for him to show up and disrupt her nicely run organization. The sooner he spit it out, the sooner he could get lost.

  “You have eyes and ears everywhere, Kei. You helped us out in New York and again in Dallas. Help us again. Help me.” Those topaz eyes burned into hers, compelling her, commanding her—if she had a will that could bend.

  “Leave me the file, and I’ll call you—if—I think I can help you.”

  “Fair enough,” he said. Lifting his large frame from the chair, he pulled an envelope out from an inside pocket of his jacket and slid it across her desk. He stopped just short of the door and turned. “You look good, Kei.”

  “Goodbye, Drake.”

  He nodded once and let himself out. Picking up her phone, she dialed zero. “Lockdown the facility. I want all our agents tracked.”

  “And the big guy that just left?” Courtney asked.

  Kei tapped a finger on her desk. “Leave him
—for now.”

  “Got it.” The line disconnected.

  Courtney Temple was the eyes and ears of Kei’s network. She’d been a hacker in her college experimentation days and one of the best. Then she’d disappeared for a couple of years, keeping off the radar and out of jail. When Kei had found her, she’d been on the FBI watch list, but they were keeping their distance. Kei didn’t, and Courtney joined the team.

  Turning her attention back to the envelope on the desk, she picked it up and slid out two neatly typed sheets of paper. It was a profile, but no case information. It seemed the BAU was chasing a pair of killers. One organized—methodical and neat. The other was a straight-up animal, but not the dominant personality, according to the profile. The trail went hot and cold over the years, so they figured the duo was earning money and hiding out. Drake’s team speculated that the killings coincided with those jobs, and then the trail would go cold.

  And Drake was here because he believed those men were in San Francisco.

  Anytime Kei moved into an area, she learned who the players were. She knew who the big drug dealers were, who the gang leaders were, and who really ran the show. There was no way to keep track of the small-time guys, the ones just looking to make a quick buck, but they kept to themselves and rarely put their toes into the water with the sharks.

  But a serial was an unknown quality. They didn’t conform to normal patterns, and they were extreme loners as far as the criminal underworld. She hadn’t heard of any unsolved murders that would fit what the profile only hinted at.

  So that left the job. If they moved around, then setting up a drug ring wouldn’t be feasible. Robbery was always a possibility, but they’d need a big score to be able to live quietly for years at a time. Kei fired up her computer and started searching the papers, countrywide. She wanted more intel, and the best place to start was in the newspaper.

  She had four search engines running in no time, so she sat back and waited for all the hits. Murders went unsolved all the time, but even the hint of a serial killer at large always made the news. Pulling out a burner phone, Kei sent out three texts in rapid succession.

  Drake would not have approved, but having eyes in all areas of the city meant having connections with some unsavory folks. She’d have some kind of info within the hour. Pouring herself some tea, she closed her eyes for a moment. Drake had the ability to unnerve her, something she’d thought she was immune to. She didn’t like it and didn’t like him.

  But you do.

  Kei’s eyes snapped open. Sipping tea, she shoved the thought out of her head. She had work to do, and thinking about one obnoxious FBI agent wasn’t part of the agenda.

  * * *

  “She’s been in a coma for two days, and the doctors don’t know when she’s going to wake up.” The “if she ever wakes up” was implied.

  Isobel reached out and hugged Miriam’s daughter. Ashley was an RN at a different hospital, but she’d been missing shifts to be with her mother. The light purple bags under her eyes gave testament to her exhaustion and worry. “Is your brother still overseas?”

  Ashley nodded. “I got ahold of his commanding officer, but they can’t or won’t tell me where Roy is deployed.”

  “And they won’t unless your mother’s condition gets worse. The doctors seem hopeful that she’ll come out of it. You said there was no swelling around her brain, right?”

  “No, thank God.”

  “Well, then she’ll pull out of it when she’s good and ready. And if, God forbid, she gets worse, then I’ll pull some strings and get Roy home ASAP.”

  Ashley’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded. She was a pretty girl in her early twenties with bad taste in men. She had two kids with different daddies, but she’d really turned her life around and made something of herself. Miriam was the reason she’d been able to go back to school and find a career.

  “The police gave me her purse, but the doctor found this in her bra,” Ashley held out a small black thumb drive. “I wanted to give this to you because she never brings work home, and she’s not on her computer much at home, so I’m thinking this must be company business.” Then she shook her head and glanced back toward Miriam’s room. “Maybe she was holding it when the accident happened, I mean, how did it get inside her bra?”

  Isobel took the drive and closed her fist around it. What the hell? This didn’t make any sense. A bad feeling crept over her as she held the drive. “Thank you, Ashley. I’m sure it’s nothing, but if this is sensitive information—"

  “That’s why I wanted you to have it. Mom never talks about what Mr. Jamison does, exactly, but it must be important because she’s really proud to work with you both.”

  Isobel nodded. “She’s been invaluable to us.” Sliding her hand into her purse, she put the drive into a zippered pocket and then put her arm around Ashley. “Listen, if you need anything—no matter what time it is—you give me a call, okay?”

  “I will. Right now, I just need her to wake up.”

  I do too, Isobel thought—because she had some questions. “Why don’t you give me her keys, and I’ll make sure the house is cleaned and ready for her when she comes home.”

  “You are so good to us. Thank you, Isobel.”

  She spent a few more moments with Ashley, asking about the kids, and then Isobel left. Her brain whirred around and around about what could be on the drive. She thought about going to the office, but it was the weekend, and she didn’t want to deal with the complicated alarm system. So instead, she drove to Ian’s house. His home computer had the only direct link to the business computer. He’d be able to read the files and figure out what they were. And she had Miriam’s keys. If the plan for the Star Wars project was on that drive, Isobel was going to need to get into the house to see what else was there. She hoped and prayed this was something completely innocent. Miriam was a good person, but Isobel was suspicious by nature.

  It took more time than usual to navigate the streets due to a minor accident, but she reached Ian’s house with no real trouble. Not giving it a second thought, she let herself inside.

  * * *

  Ian had a safe in his room. One of those big, fireproof gun safes that he used to store various plans, contracts, and gadgets he worked on. He had it open and the plans on the table, and he was enjoying the view of Nic’s behind as she looked them over.

  Her strawberry-blonde hair was in disarray, and she was still without makeup. She’d talked him into ordering food to come to the house for lunch, and he’d readily agreed. Ian shook his head. He hadn’t been this interested in a woman since he hit puberty. She smelled like apricots and looked just as good in an oversized cotton T-shirt and jeans as she did in that evening gown.

  And it blew his mind that she seemed to understand the plans.

  “This component you designed has applications in all aspects of missile launch. And this failsafe aspect is brilliant.” She looked up and smiled at him. “You really are a genius.”

  Ian grinned. She said it in a matter of fact way, but that she understood the code he’d written as well as the schematics showed him that she was just as smart as he was. Why the hell was she a mere bodyguard when she could be doing something like he did? It didn’t make sense to him.

  “You must be as well if you can understand all this,” he gestured at the blueprints.

  She shrugged and looked away, “I have my moments.”

  “Where did you—"

  Nic held up her hand, and Ian stopped his question. She had her head tilted with her ear toward his bedroom door. “Someone’s in the house.”

  He listened hard as she moved silently toward the door. The step on the staircase was unmistakable. But the alarm was set, and only three people had the code. Two of those were in this room; the third was his sister. He was about to say something but closed his mouth and stifled a grin. This was revenge for Isobel forcing this bodyguard business.

  Nic pulled her gun from the holster at her waist and moved to the side of
the door in one smooth move. She motioned him to the left, behind herself and the door. Ian had seen the telltale bulge of her gun but hadn’t made an issue over it. Now, he leaned against the table and waited for his sister because he was sure it was her. This was going to be good.

  Sure enough, Isobel rounded the corner, because she never knocked, even when they were kids. And Nic had the gun in her face for a split second, long enough for Isobel to begin a high-pitched scream that was sure to shake the crown moldings loose.

  “Oh, shit, Isobel, warn a girl that you’re coming over.”

  “Oh, shit, is right; I think I just peed.”

  “Not on my wood floors, you didn’t,” Ian interjected. He needed to say something because he was about to burst out laughing at the look on his sister’s face. Revenge was sweet, indeed.

  “You always were a mean little brother,” she gasped, catching her breath. “You knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her.”

  Nic had her gun holstered and had taken his sister’s arm, guiding her to one of the chairs flanking his worktable. “While I’m here, Isobel, you need to let me know when to expect you; otherwise, you could get hurt.”

  “I didn’t even think about it; I just let myself in like I always do.”

  Ian grinned. “Does this mean you’ll finally respect my privacy?”

  “Little brothers have no privacy,” she spat but ruined the nasty tone with a smile. Her hand was up on her chest as if her heart beat too fast. “K.A.W. is definitely the right agency to work with. You scared me to death, and I knew you were here.”

  Nic shook her head and shared a look with Ian. One that was full of humor and warmth he hadn’t expected. Nic was very guarded. She laughed and made fun of him, but he was aware that she rarely showed him anything she didn’t want him to see.