"Katie, that's a lie and you know it!" Interrupting me again. "I may have taught you to hold a gun, but you can hardly defend yourself against those enemies I may accrue through my profession. It's my responsibility to look out for you. I have to!"
He was getting distraught, but although I'd been referring to my romantic battles, not my physical ones, I realised I needed to address this with him too. I would always welcome Nick's defence if ASI brought danger to my door, but I was not weak. Not entirely defenceless. Not anymore.
I leaned over his desk, holding his gaze, while I slipped his letter opener into my palm, weighing its balance surreptitiously in my hand. Then while his attention was still focused on me, I swung around and flung the projectile directly at the camera lens above his door. Shattering the glass on impact, the slim blade twanging as it rocked back and forth, embedded deep within the device. A direct hit, without even having to try.
I turned back and found Nick standing flicking intense ice-blue eyes between my target and me. He was in shock, stunned silent. A little horrified even.
"Do you think I'm defenceless now, big brother?" I asked, lowering myself into the chair across from his desk as though nothing had happened.
By the time I was sitting; legs crossed at the knees, skirt flattened of all creases, his door had banged open and two of his men had stormed in. I flicked my gaze over my shoulder and found Eric, who had probably witnessed the destruction from the other end of the camera lens, and Brook, here to make sure no one needed medical attention.
Yes, my brother ran a tight ship. It was just a shame he didn't realise how perfect Jason Cain was for his operation.
And how perfect Jason Cain was for me.
Chapter 21
I Was His Anchor And He Was My Muse
"Holy fucking hell!" Brook exclaimed. "Did you throw that?" He directed his question at Nick.
Eric huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "No," he said with obvious relish, "that would be the other Anscombe in the room."
Brook's gaze moved to me.
"Wow!" he mouthed. "Awesome," he added, with a devilish grin. "Can you do it again?"
"Brook," Nick warned. "It was a fluke."
My jaw gaped open incredulously.
"You pig!" I gritted between my teeth, reaching inside my handbag to finger my blade in readiness.
"If you pull that knife out, Katie," Nick said softly, menacingly, "Brook will have you disarmed and on the floor in a second."
"I will?" Brook asked, clearly wanting to poke the bear right now. Nick flicked him an annoyed look.
"How did you know I had a knife in here?" I asked.
"I didn't, it could have been mace," he pointed out, making me suck in an aggravated breath of air.
Silence reigned for several long and uncomfortable moments.
"Leave us," Nick finally said to Brook and Eric, but his frosty gaze never left my face.
The men obeyed his command, but not before each of them threw a sympathetic glance towards me. I straightened my shoulders and glared back at Nick.
Once the door clicked shut behind them, Nick let out a long sigh.
"That was impressive. How long have you been training?"
"Three years," I said, still sitting stiffly in my chair.
"Eskrima?"
"Some, mainly Kombatan."
"Kombatan. Good choice." He leaned forward resting his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. "Where did I go wrong, Katie?" he whispered. "I'm good at judging character, and Jason is one messed up fuck."
I let a little laugh out, it wasn't amused. More like relieved. Nick wasn't a bully at heart. He'd been genuinely trying to protect me. But one thing I did admire about my brother, was his ability to look at things from a different angle, if you gave him enough reason to try.
"He has some issues," I conceded, and now it was Nick's turn to offer a laugh.
"Some, huh?"
"Nick. I love him."
His eyes came up to search my face and when he saw the conviction there he only muttered a near-silent, "Fuck!"
He sank back into his chair in an almost defeated movement.
"Dom's not gonna like this," he pointed out.
"It's not Dom's position to pass comment," I said with meaning.
"You're our little sister," Nick reiterated.
"Not so little anymore," I replied, nodding my head to the still embedded letter opener.
Nick started chuckling, which soon became a full bodied laugh. "Eva's so going to whip my ass over this." I raised an eyebrow in query. He just sighed, but didn't offer any further explanation. I could only hope that his fiancée had already called him out on his over protectiveness. She wasn't the sort of woman who appreciated being told what to do, if it didn't suit.
"Are you going to ask Jason back to work?" I demanded.
"No." He shook his head to confirm his answer, just in case I didn't get the firm tone in his reply.
"Why not?" He could be stubborn sometimes and I just didn't have the patience for it today.
"Because he wouldn't accept my offer," Nick replied, holding my gaze. "If Jason wants back, he can come and ask. But it's the only way he'd consider working for me again. On his terms, when he's ready. Not before."
He was right. Jason wouldn't take kindly to an offer of peace or a hand-out. But I really wasn't sure if he was OK with working for Nick again. And I have to admit, I wasn't sure I was happy for him to either. Nick had overstepped the mark by a country mile. Both with me and Jason. It was going to take a long to time to forget this.
"There's another reason why I'm here," I said, feeling it was time to finally move on from family disagreements.
"Yeah, and what's that, sis?"
"I need to hire your security services on behalf of a client I am contracted to. It's a time-limited project and he's requested that I oversee the security liaison as well as the design. I'm on a strict deadline, Nick," I admitted. "I might have bitten off more than I can chew."
"That's not like you, Katie," Nick replied, eyeing me curiously.
"I was not myself when I accepted the job." I flicked my gaze away, staring into the corner of the room to avoid his scrutiny. I shouldn't have bothered, he could see through me even if I was wearing a Mardis Gras mask on my face.
"OK, tell me what you need and where. I'll have Eric organise it."
I let a relieved breath of air out. For a moment there, when things had been on a knife's edge - pun intended - I wasn't sure if Nick would help me out in my self-induced bind. But he was my brother, and the bottom line would always be family first, even when we were mad at each other. Mama and Papa had taught us that.
"Tremayne Arts in The Strand. I've got the keys while the owner is out of town, so I can meet Eric there when he's free. My builders are scheduled for later today at four, so maybe we can synchronise watches."
"An art studio. They just want monitored alarms?"
"Yes. The artwork is fairly pricey."
"OK," Nick said, standing up from his desk and moving to a filing cabinet to withdraw some paperwork. "Take this to Eric and arrange a time to meet. He'll fill in the necessary caveats and then you can get your client to sign the paperwork, locking them in."
"Mr Tremayne won't be back until Friday, to organise the pieces being set up."
"I can't install security without a contract, Katie. You know that."
"The contract can between us, I'm acting on Tremayne's behalf. I have a contract with him that covers this. He's also paid a hefty deposit into my account this morning." I'd checked online before I left home. Richard, despite his disgruntlement with me earlier, had fulfilled his end of the agreement, by paying a percentage of my fee upfront. Leaving me feeling a hell of a lot more comfortable about the entire project, than I had at breakfast time.
Nick frowned at me for a moment. "I gotta say, it's a little unusual."
"This whole job has become a little unusual," I conceded, standing up from my chair.
"Are you concerned?" Nick asked, walking me to his door.
Was I? Not really, but there was just something unnerving about Richard Tremayne and the uniqueness of the project had not helped dissipate that reaction.
"Not enough to turn down the money I'm about to make, darling," I said, with a little Katie Anscombe cheer.
Nick shook his head at me. "Just watch yourself, OK?"
I gave him a glare for even attempting to offer that sort of advice right now.
"Hey!" he said, raising his hands in defence. "You're still my little sister, big girl undies on or not."
I cringed at the underwear reference, feeling decidedly breezy down there all of a sudden. But forced myself to smile sweetly as I escaped Nick's lair.
Eric clicked the control room door open as soon as I knocked and waved at the camera lens.
"Sweetheart," he called, as I walked in to find him on his own. The darkness of the room making the TV screens displaying various monitored areas under ASI care brighter than they needed to be. How he didn't get eye strain staring at all of those multiple LCD screens was beyond me.
"Darling, I have a job for you." I handed him the paperwork Nick had given me.
Eric glanced down at what was in his hand, his jet black hair shining from the light from the monitors.
"An alarm job? On one of your designs?"
"Yes, an art studio in Parnell. They require adequate security for one to one-point-five million dollars worth of art." I fidgeted slightly, my fingers playing with the edge of my blouse. Eric glanced down at the movement.
"What's the catch, sweetheart?"
"I need it completed by Friday this week."
He let a long low whistle out. "You don't muck about, do you?"
I smiled brightly back at him. "Darling, when I want something I just set out to get it."
"Katie," he replied on a laugh, "I only wish you wanted me."
"You know you'll always be my favourite, Eric," I said sweetly, buttering him up the best I could for my next request. "Can you do four this afternoon?"
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he placed the document on his desk amongst the clutter.
"For you, Katie, I would do anything."
And that was the God's honest truth. All of ASI would bend over backwards to help me out when I needed it. Eric may not have realised just what sort of time-bind I'd placed myself in, but he could read between the lines as well as the rest of them. If I asked, they all came running. It wasn't just Nick who wanted to protect me, but all of his men.
They were as much my family as my brothers. I left the ASI building feeling a lot happier than when I had arrived.
The rest of the day was taken up in sourcing soft furnishings and arranging paint colours, by the time four o'clock came around I was in a much better place, time-wise, than I had been that morning. A little over an hour and a half later, both the builders and Eric were briefed on what was required and had taken the necessary notes needed to be ready to start work tomorrow. Everyone unanimously estimated they'd need to be at Tremayne Arts by eight each morning and put in a full day's work, to have the studio ready to receive the precious pieces for display by Friday.
I locked up and sat in my car feeling elated that I had no doubt dodged a bullet on my impulsive acceptance of this job, and exhausted at the emotional investment I'd had to make to get this far. Not to mention the physical expenditure needed to organise so many different aspects in such a short amount of time. I was spent, but I still had one more thing to face before I could drive home and crash on the couch with a bar of Whittaker's Chocolate and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
The phone line rang six times before Richard Tremayne picked it up. The entire time it took for him to answer, I held my breath. I had no idea how the man would respond. And I didn't like the uncertainty one little bit. There was something to be said for predictability, for knowing ahead of time how things should be played out. I hadn't realised that Tremayne had thrown my normal routine for a loop. And until now, I wasn't aware that I did not handle surprises in my usually well ordered, or as Jason would say, structured, world.
A small smile graced my lips on that thought, just as Tremayne answered.
"Catherine, my dear. How has your day been?" Not an ounce of anger in his tone, at all.
I let a revealed breath of air out quietly, but couldn't help being stumped by this ambiguous man.
"Mr Tremayne, everything has gone swimmingly well."
"Please, we'd settled on first names, hadn't we? Now tell me, where are you at with the studio?"
I ignored the first name basis statement, it just wasn't worth the effort needed, and to be truthful, I didn't want to rock the boat. Keeping the client happy was still paramount in my mind. Despite Richard's shortcomings, he was foremost my client.
"The builders start on my plans tomorrow morning, along with the security installation. We’re on target to receive your artwork on Friday."
"Ah, Catherine. I knew I could count on you. You know, I do owe you an apology," he said, chuckling slightly at his admission, as though his behaviour this morning on the phone was embarrassing to him. "You caught me at a bad moment, and I must admit the time pressures of this project have started to chip away at my usually relaxed demeanour. So, please, accept my humblest regret at my words earlier. Know that I am so grateful for all your work and cannot wait to see the finished product."
My eyebrows lifted. I hadn't expected an apology, he'd seemed pretty set in his disgruntlement this morning. And as Jason had said, he'd been a fuck-knuckle. But it simply wasn't in me to make an issue of this. He'd apologised, and as a professional I had to accept.
"Don't mention it, Richard." I forced a little merriment into my tone. "We're all working on a tight schedule which places us under undue strain. I completely understand."
"You are right, my dear. I don't know what I was thinking trying to get this business open on such a short lead-in time." Neither did I and I would have liked to ask what the hurry was, but he was already signing off. "I'll be in touch closer to Friday to organise the pieces and a viewing of the final look."
Once again, the phone went dead without a good-bye. Dominic could sometimes do that, too occupied by what was in front of him to bother with pleasantries over the phone. I was used to it, but it didn't mean I wasn't a little peeved at Tremayne. His ridiculous deadline was making all of our lives unbearable.
I sighed, placed my phone back inside my satchel and started the car. It had been a hellishly long day and I desperately wanted some pampering. As I drove the short distance from Parnell to Herne Bay where my home is, I wondered if I would be pampering myself, or whether a certain delectable soldier would make an appearance tonight. We hadn't arranged for a get together, I'd assumed we'd see each other, but as I negotiated rush hour traffic, I couldn't help second guessing my assumption.
What exactly did Jason Cain do in his down time? And considering he had a lot of it now, how stable was he going to be when I next saw him?
I was biting my lip contemplating all manner of outcomes when I turned into my street. Sitting directly outside my house was a black SUV. The elation at seeing Jason's vehicle parked on the street outside my home was magnificent. He was already here, and by the looks of it, as I parked my BMW behind his bigger car, not waiting outside, but rather, somehow, waiting inside.
The table lamps were on in the bay window at the front of the house, casting a welcoming muted glow across the sheer curtains. I could hear sultry music wafting through the door as I walked up the path; Robin Thicke's "Tears On My Tuxedo". I wanted to hum along to the sweet words he was singing, but my voice was stolen as the door swung open and Jason leaned against the door frame. Faded jeans and shirtless.
I actually sighed. He grinned back and reached forward to take my satchel from my hand, ushering me inside the house. The smell of something delicious met my nose, which almost, but not quite, distracted me from the strong arms wrapping around my waist
and soft lips pressing into my own. He tasted minty fresh and smelled like Jason. I moaned into his mouth.
"Welcome home," he whispered against my lips. "Hard day?"
It was so natural, to have him waiting, to have him ask how my day went, ask what I'd been doing. It was so natural, yet such a surprise I couldn't form words to answer him right then. I just stared up into beautiful chocolate pools and allowed myself to fall a little. Jason didn't push for me to talk, he just smirked, his signature smile, placed my satchel by the hall table and led me by the hand into the lounge.
The dining table was set across the way, complete with lit candles and chilled bottle of wine. I was betting it was a Sauvignon Blanc.
"I thought you said you were only good at breakfast?" I asked, stunned at the effort he'd gone to preparing a romantic dinner for two.
"Who said it's not Eggs Benedict," he shot back, striding over to the wine and starting to pour us both a glass. I enjoyed the glide of his hips as he walked away and the ripple of his muscles as he reached across the table.
"It doesn't smell like Eggs Benedict," I pointed out. It smelled divine. Beef of some sort, I was thinking, with an Indian twist.
"You're right. It's not," he admitted. "And I lied. I can cook breakfast and curry, but that's it."
I laughed as he handed me my glass.
"Here's to breakfast and curries, then!" I held the glass up for a toast.
Jason held my gaze for a moment, and murmured softly, "Here's to you letting me look after you when you've had a hard day at work."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I clinked glasses and drank to the toast.
"Have a seat, Kate," Jason ordered, in his usual way. I sat down where he indicated immediately, as he began to serve up our meal. He'd either timed it to perfection, or had been reheating it. It didn't smell burned, so it was clear he did know how to cook a curry. I felt my taste buds watering in anticipation.
After fussing away for a minute or so, he finally took his seat across from me at the table, his face cast in interesting shadows as the candle flickered between us.
Sweet Seduction Surrender (Sweet Seduction, Book 4) Page 20
