DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  I was about to go out of my mind when we arrived at the bridge. He turned the music off then and I sat up a little straighter, my eyes glued to the water as we glided over the bridge, my heart pounding in my chest as the bridge went on for what seemed like forever. It was … amazing.

  “Totally worth it,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  It was an experience. I turned toward him, watching the water on the far side of the bridge, my hand resting on his knee. He lay his hand on top of mine for a moment, squeezing it lightly. When I focused on him, he was watching me, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth for a moment. But then he came back to himself, recalling whatever it was that had forced him to pull away from me twice before. He pulled back again, releasing my hand and picking it up, thrusting it onto my own lap.

  I didn’t understand his anger toward me. I knew I had hurt him in high school, but he’d done a pretty good job of doing the same thing to me. He dated my former best friend and nemesis all through high school, bringing her to the ranch and walking with her down on the trails we’d walked, doing with her all the things we’d done. And more. He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing with her. Instead, he was flaunting it, flirting with her in front of me, kissing her in the garden behind my own house so I would be sure to see it.

  If anyone had a right to be mad, it was me.

  I moved closer to the passenger side door and folded my arms over my chest, turning my gaze hard on the windshield. Kevin didn’t say anything more to me, but he didn’t turn the radio on, either. We drove in silence until we were in the heart of Key West, slowing down to allow tourist to cross the crowded streets. He drove down random streets, just driving for the sake of driving, I think, and then we were back on the bridge.

  He finally broke the silence not far from Marathon on the other side of the bridge.

  “A friend of mine told me about a little island not far from here. She says it’s a sight we shouldn’t miss. You want to check it out?”

  “Shouldn’t we be getting back? We have to meet Dallas in less than four hours.”

  “It won’t take long.”

  I glanced at him, wondering who this friend was. And then I reminded myself that it was no longer any of my business.

  “Okay. But only for a few minutes.”

  Kevin didn’t even glance at me through the entire conversation.

  Why was he here with me if he didn’t want to be? Why was he doing this? He didn’t have to come. He didn’t have to come with me. He could have found out where Dallas was and he could have talked her out of the wedding without me. Why had he come to the ranch?

  He made the turn as though he knew exactly what he was looking for. We drove out to the edge of the town, pulling up to a long line of cars waiting for a ferry.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. “What if there isn’t another ferry when we’re ready to go?”

  “There will be. It’s still early in the evening.”

  I had to trust him, because there was no sign indicating otherwise. We pulled onto the boat and parked behind the other cars. I got out and stretched, my body sore from sitting in the car for so long. Kevin gestured for me to lead the way upstairs. We went into the small snack bar on the top level of the boat. Kevin bought us both a soda and settled down with his back to the wall, his eyes warily surveying the room like he was expecting some sort of trouble.

  “You work security now?”

  His eyes rested on me for a brief second. “I do.”

  “Do you like it?”

  He seemed to consider the question for a moment. Then he inclined his head.

  “It’s not like being in the military. We aren’t ambushed every time we turn around, but there’s still that sense of danger following us. And the clients can be pretty interesting.”

  “What kind of jobs do you do?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve worked as a body guard, as an investigator, as back up to someone else’s case. We go undercover from time to time, too.”

  “Undercover?”

  His eyes moved over me again. “Sometimes corporations hire us to find information on crimes going on within their ranks or to observe their employees in order to help them pick people to promote or to find out who’s stealing the creamers from the break room.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Creamer’s very expensive.”

  I laughed. “Sounds very important.”

  “Not as important as running a working ranch, but it pays the bills. Quite well, actually.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting—”

  He stood up and moved away from me, ignoring my attempt at an awkward apology. I watched him go and saw him stop at the bar and speak to the bartender for a moment before he headed out on deck. I stayed where I was, feeling decidedly unwanted. But this guy kept staring at me and it was making me a little nervous, so I followed. Reluctantly.

  Kevin was standing against the rail, his face turned up to the sun, his eyes closed. I watched him from a distance for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. Selfish enough to wonder if he was thinking about me.

  He once thought about me. Quite often.

  I was a year behind him in school, a freshman when he was a sophomore. We talked about it all summer, what it would be like when we traveled to football games together, him with the football team, me with the cheerleaders. He warned me of the vulgarity of the older boys, the things that went on when the coaches and teachers weren’t watching. He wanted to protect my innocence, to make sure I didn’t grow up too fast.

  And then came that night. We’d won our first playoff game and everyone was beyond exhilarated on the ride home. That’s why he was too restless to go home. So we sat on the hood of his car and talked about the game, the other school, the drama that went on behind the scenes. It was high school. It was a boy and a girl alone on an unusually warm November night.

  It started with a compliment.

  “You played really well tonight. They never would have won if not for that last touchdown you made.”

  “How could I not play well with you cheering me on at the sidelines?”

  And then it turned into a long, lingering gaze.

  If it happened tonight, I would know where that gaze was leading. But I was only fifteen that night.

  “Who’s Pamela? Do you have a woman waiting for you back in Houston?”

  Kevin looked down at me, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in his blue eyes.

  “No. Pamela’s just a woman I was dating, but I missed a date with her the other night and she ended it.”

  “Why did you miss the date?”

  “Because you called and disrupted the whole night.”

  “It’s my fault?” I asked, amused.

  “I had to finish these reports and get time off from my boss in order to make the trip to the ranch. That took time.”

  “You could have still gone on the date.”

  He shook his head, his attention moving to the water churning far below us. “It wasn’t going anywhere, anyway.”

  “What about that woman you talked to on the plane. Wynnie or Winifred or whatever?”

  “Waverly.” He glanced at me again, amusement stronger than exasperation now. “I told you, she’s the computer tech at Dragon.”

  “Dragon?”

  “Dragon Security. My employer.”

  “Of course.” I moved closer to him, resting my hands on the rail as I looked down at the sea. “You seemed to have an easy rapport with her.”

  “She’s easy to get along with.”

  “I bet she’s beautiful. Beauty and brains seem to be your thing.”

  “You think so?”

  I shrugged.

  “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were jealous.”

  I shook my head. “Just curious.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so curious about me. You haven’t taken an interest in me in a long time.”

  “Just because we had a falling ou
t—”

  “Is that what you call it? A falling out?”

  “What do you call it?”

  “You told me I was just the help and that I should mind my place. And then you proceeded to give away all of my secrets to the entire high school. If not for my friends seeing through what you were doing, you would have ruined my reputation.”

  “I didn’t tell you to mind your place.”

  “You did, actually.” He pushed away from the railing. “We’ll be there soon. I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

  He walked away from me again, tension in his shoulders as he did. I turned away this time, regretting things I didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.

  Why didn’t he understand that I was only fifteen? That I had no idea how complicated my emotions would be and how hard it was for me to reconcile what I felt for him with the fears and the shame that overwhelmed me in the aftermath of that night?

  I was a stupid girl. But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

  Chapter 6

  Kevin

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kirsten exploded. “There’s not another ferry tonight?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “But we’re supposed to meet Dallas in the city! How are we going to do that?”

  I tilted my head slightly. “I guess we won’t.”

  Kirsten glared at me, acid pouring from those expressive eyes. She was so beautiful … it was hard for me to remember that this was the same girl who had made my life a living hell in high school.

  We drove around the island for nearly an hour, barely speaking two words to each other. But I had to make sure the last ferry had gone before I could bring her back here. Waverly had explained that the last ferry left the island at four on Saturday afternoons. She said there was a boat locked up in her boat house if there was an emergency, but otherwise we’d be trapped on the island until six a.m. on Monday.

  It was the perfect situation to keep Kirsten from the wedding.

  But it also meant I’d have to spend all day Sunday with a very angry Kirsten, something I wasn’t really looking forward to. And she was already getting started.

  “You promised me we would get back in time to have dinner with Dallas. You said there’d be no problems.’

  “I didn’t know the ferry stopped running this early in the evening.”

  “You should have checked the sign before you drove that damn car onto that boat!”

  “I’ve checked it now, and it looks like we’re stuck.”

  Kirsten’s eyes widened for a second before she leaned forward in her seat and buried her face in her hands.

  “So, what, we spend the night here, in the car?”

  “The next ferry doesn’t come until Monday.”

  “What?” She jerked up, anger once again blazing from those expressive eyes. I shrugged and she slammed her hands on the dashboard, jumping out of the car like she could no longer contain the anger and the frustration. She paced beside the car for a long moment, then marched up to the sign that gave the ferry schedule. Then she was back at the car, pacing alongside of it.

  “What about all the other people who were on the ferry?” she finally demanded.

  “Most of them were going to other islands.”

  “There’s no one here? No one we could ask for a boat or something?”

  “I doubt it. This is a private island and most of the houses are currently unoccupied.”

  “There has to be a way off this island.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?”

  I walked calmly around the car and gestured for her to get inside.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “My friend has a house on the far side of the island. We can stay there until Monday.”

  “My sister will be married by then.”

  I could hear the desperation and the fear in her voice. I simply held the door open, not sure what other comfort I could offer that she would accept from me. After a moment’s hesitation she climbed inside, angrily brushing a single tear from her cheek.

  I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I felt bad. But this was what Dallas wanted and I thought that she should have the right to make her own choices. Kirsten couldn’t decide everyone’s fate.

  We drove to the other side of the island to the rustic cabin tucked into a stand of trees a few hundred yards from the water. It was a beautiful place, not unlike the lovely cabin Megan had out on Galveston Island that she occasionally allowed the operatives to use. I’d stayed there once with a client, a nervous CEO who thought the whole world was out to get him. It turned out it was a mental disorder. His wife had managed it in secret to protect his reputation and his own sense of worth, but when she died suddenly in a car accident, the poor man came off the meds and fell directly into a psychotic break.

  I couldn’t imagine this weekend was going to be much better than that had been.

  I pulled the car up close to the front door and found the key hidden under a fake rock, just as Waverly had told me it would be. A bit antiquated, but I guess she figured with the remoteness of the place, she had little to worry about as far as thieves went.

  I pushed the door open and stood in the middle of the large room it opened onto, admiring the place. It was all wood walls and high ceilings held up by massive tree trunks used as support beams. The living room was decorated simply and it flowed into a well-appointed kitchen with a massive stainless steel refrigerator and stove. Waverly had said she’d call her caretaker and he’d stock the kitchen, and she seemed to have been true to her word. There was a basket of fruit on the table and a six-pack of beer on the counter. She’d even remembered my brand even though we’d only drunk together once.

  Off to one side of the living room was a short hallway that led to the bedrooms. One was fairly small, but it sported bunk beds—for Waverly’s nephews, I assumed—a small bathroom, and then the master bedroom. It was an impressive room with large windows that looked out over the water and a massive four poster bed that took up a majority of the center of the room.

  I could imagine Waverly lying on that bed quite easily, her long, shapely legs bare, her narrow hips waiting impatiently for what came next. I had to admit the image moved more than just my mind. But then the image shifted and I found myself watching Kirsten there, her bronze skin glowing in the dimming sunlight, her long legs stretched out, her bare belly quivering with anticipation. That image was irresistible.

  I turned away, telling myself to grow up. I’d spent the last nine years trying to move past Kirsten. I’d loved her once. Loved her more than I could find a way to express. But she’d turned me away and treated me like I was nothing more than dirt under her shoe. And then she’d tortured me, tried to ruin my reputation in school, and avoided me at every turn. She’d made herself clear. I wasn’t going to let myself fall down that same rabbit hole just because she was desperate enough to call me when she needed help.

  I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, thinking seriously about throwing myself down on the couch and taking a nap. Instead, I went to the kitchen and hunted through the fridge for the ingredients for a decent meal. There was a wine fridge hidden under the counter, stocked with some pretty impressive vintages. I pulled out a chardonnay and opened it, allowing it to breath on the counter while I took out some chicken breasts and set them to marinate in oil and a few fresh herbs. I was impressed with Waverly’s kitchen, wondering how often she came out here and whether she cooked back in Houston. Funny the things you can learn about a coworker when you found yourself alone in their home.

  The chicken marinating, a few new potatoes roasting slowly in the over, I carried the wine and a glass to the couch. Kirsten hadn’t bothered to come inside. It was growing dark here under the trees, the gloom almost sinister in its early arrival. I couldn’t relax with Kirsten off somewhere unknown. As much as I was enjoying the silence and the release from the tension that followed her around, I
couldn’t leave her out there alone.

  I sighed as I decided I’d better go find her. I climbed to my feet and grabbed the bottle of wine. Maybe a little alcohol would loosen her up a bit.

  I could always hope.

  I found her out by the water, sitting on the end of a narrow dock. I walked toward her, my steps making the dock sway and pop with every step, but she didn’t turn around or even acknowledge me. I sat beside her and poured two glasses of the smooth chardonnay. She reluctantly took the glass I held out to her, but still didn’t acknowledge me.

  We sat there like that for a while. Every once in a while, she’d hold out her glass for a refill. When the first bottle was gone and I had a nice buzz just beginning, I returned to the house for a merlot that looked lovely. It was when we were halfway through that that she finally seemed to notice my presence.

  “You’re an asshole,” she said.

  I inclined my head slightly. “Thank you.”

  “My sister is going to make the worse decision of her life because of you.”

  “It’s her mistake to make.”

  “Was this your plan all day? To keep me away from her until they could do the deed?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She smacked my shoulder. Hard.

  “Asshole.”

  I grinned, glancing at her as I did. “It was fun pissing you off all day. A little revenge.”

  “Revenge for what?”

  “For high school. For all the bullshit you pulled on me.”

  She seemed to think about that for a moment, staring into the depths of the wine. The sun had slipped behind the trees, leaving us in the gloaming of a cool spring evening. It would have been nice—a great romantic setting—if things had been different.

  “Is that why you pull away every time I touch you?”