Protecting the Heiress

by Nana Malone

  I sat back in the conference chair and double-checked the monitor. Neela, Ms. Wellbrook I reminded myself, was safe at home behind her very heavy walls and very hard gates. Ariel and I had needed to touch base before I went in. I figured she was safe at home, but I was still anxious to check on her. Seeing that piece of shit with his hand over her mouth… Well, I hadn’t been that angry in a long time.

  I needed to get back to her.

  You need to get your shit together.

  "Keep things super low profile. I’ll create you a background to match, but I’ll keep the details close to the truth in case there are any slip-ups. Are you up for this assignment?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I’d agree to anything that would get me back to her.

  She grinned then. "I think it’ll be easier if you’re on premises full time.”

  I sat up straighter. “What?” I was toast if I had to live with her round the clock.

  “We don’t have the manpower to swap out yet. I can’t have Trace relieve you every 12 hours until I’m back. You’re scheduled for a full day with the kid then off, but I think we should suggest you be full-time with occasional replacements.”

  “Yeah it’s fine. Let’s deal with the immediate threat, then we’ll figure it out.”

  “Well then, looks like we are official. Okay, grab your gear and head over to the house. See you in a couple of days.”

  “Roger that.”

  As we walked out, I heard Trace mutter under his breath, “Is there a reason you don’t want to stay with the client?”

  “Nope, it’s all good.”

  Lies. All lies.

  Eight

  Neela...

  I stared at the book. I didn't even want to open it. I didn't know what secrets I would find there.

  At the end of the day, I needed something to distract me so I wouldn't keep staring out the window, waiting for the boogeyman to jump out and go, "Booga-booga!"

  Though the boogeyman would certainly not say that. He'd probably say, "I'm going to carry you off and rape and kill you now."

  I ran my hands through my hair, gathering the thick length of it and knotting it on top of my head.

  Okay, first things first. I looked at Mayzie who was banging things on her playpen.

  "It's really simple being a baby, isn't it?"

  She just gurgled and spit and banged her blocks.

  "Right. Of course, you would say that. What I'm saying is, I have to try and figure out what your mommy left me."

  She was also helpful and muttered. "Ma."

  "Yeah, your mommy. Okay, first things first, a good code cracker needs their fuel." I reached inside my purse and pulled out a bag of peanut M&Ms. I took note that my hands were still shaking. Clearly, the adrenaline had maxed out.

  It was fine. I was fine. Everything was fine. Never mind that the police had spoken to me about some asshole trying to grab me off the street. Or rather, Mayzie. He wanted me to give him Mayzie, of all things. As if. "Okay, maybe your mama left a clue as to why somebody wants to get you and this."

  I held up the book. Mayzie seemed uninterested.

  I had my peanut M&Ms, but that wasn’t enough for the task at hand. "Also, I need caffeine."

  Unfortunately, when I marched into the kitchen and opened the fridge, I remembered I hadn't bought anything. And all Willa had in there were those tasteless carbonated water things.

  Yup. For this, I was going to need sugar. I knew sugar wasn't great for me, but I was a sugar addict. I worked out, tried to eat right for the most part, but I needed my colas, sodas, anything really. It helped fuel the brain.

  I finally found something way in the back, some kind of a juice soda. It would have to do.

  When I returned, Mayzie was standing up in her playpen. She’d dropped one of the green blocks out of it, and she was trying to reach for it, except she had very short, chubby hands.

  When I grabbed it for her, she rewarded me with a mostly toothless grin. And all right, maybe she was the devil's spawn, but her little grin was everything.

  Don't tell me you like the baby.

  As babies went, she was okay. Golden curls, bright green eyes, chubby little hands with dimples on the knuckles. Yeah, as babies went, she was okay, if you were into that sort of thing.

  Well, you better like that sort of thing. She's yours now.

  I tried not to think about that. I had to focus on the damn book.

  I also reached into my bag for my inspection gloves. I usually use them for things like first edition books, and yes, I was nerdy enough to have my own pair. But sometimes when people wanted me to crack something, it was best if I didn’t physically touch it. The hands secreted oils on everything. And to crack a code, I liked to keep things pristine.

  I also pulled out a clear plastic bag to store the journal in temporarily.

  I sat cross-legged on the couch and cracked it open. Symbols, nothing but symbols. Symbols I couldn't understand. A lot of cryptanalysts like to start with a computer, but I was old school.

  My father taught me to always look for the patterns. There are patterns in everything. Mother Nature doesn't make any mistakes. And when someone is trying to hide something, as complicated as they try to make it sound, they always use a pattern.

  I smiled at that. This journal was clearly handwritten, so that meant, somewhere in there, amongst the symbols and triangles and squiggly lines, there was some kind of pattern. There were some odd spaces in between the lines, but I couldn't quite make out their purpose.

  I looked at what I thought was the front. Something that looked like a fleur de lis was sketched on it.

  But what the fuck does it mean?

  I had no idea.

  "Come on, Neela, start with what you know."

  I pulled open my laptop and went through my step-by-step process. When dealing with languages, it's best to start with the known, and then with the ancients, and then try and extrapolate from that information what code someone might be using.

  I had seen people use Latin, ancient Aramaic, Sanskrit, even Austrian. I had seen a lot of things.

  But my father was right, people always used patterns.

  Ten minutes of digging, told me that this oh-so-easy language to decode, was not that easy. It told me that the language in this journal was neither Sanskrit, Austrian, or Latin, although, I knew that one, or any Roman language. Again, not a surprise. It was also not ancient Aramaic or hieroglyphs.

  Okay, then. It wasn't Russian. It wasn't Eastern. At least, not any Eastern that was in my repertoire. I leaned forward and stared at it. "What are you?"

  Mayzie dragged me out of my reverie when she started to hiccup repeatedly.

  I glanced up and her face was scrunched. "No, no, no, no. You are not going to cry. You're not going to cry."

  But she was too far gone. Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup! And Whaaaaa!

  I quickly closed the journal and ran to pick her up. As I held her in my arms, I tried to lay her head on my chest, but she bucked back. "Jesus Christ, you need to stop that. I almost dropped you."

  That only made her scream more.

  "Listen kid, you’ve got to start talking to me. At what age do you guys start talking?"

  It was clear to the both of us that I was terrible at this. I glanced longingly back at that journal.

  It would have to wait until Mayzie was asleep, because clearly, I wasn't going to get any work done on it right now. "What in the world did you give me, Willa? And why me, of all people?"

  Nine

  Neela…

  I was entirely too happy to see Jax on my doorstep late that afternoon. “You’re here.”

  I was clearly a master at small talk.

  “I’m here.”

  He had only a small duffle with him. I swallowed my disappointment. It’s not like the man was really moving in with me. He was here to look after Mayzie. “Let me show you to the other guest cottage. It’s fully stocked with whatever you might need. I checked myself today. It has its own
private plunge pool too, but of course you’re more than—”

  He cut me off. “Ms. Wellbrook?”

  Geez the way he said that, his accent nearly reduced me to mush. “Call me Neela. You saved my life. You’ve earned the right.”

  “Okay, Neela. Thank you for the guest cottage, but it’s better that I’m in the main house as close to the baby as possible. If I stay in the guest house, I certainly won’t hear Mayzie crying.”

  My brows drew down. “Oh shit. I guess I didn’t think about that. Clearly I have no experience with babies or nannies.”

  His smile was gentle. “You’ve had a bit on your mind. How are you feeling? How is Mayzie?”

  I was still a little numb from earlier, but I didn’t want to get into it. “I’m fine. Mayzie took a nap for the first time this afternoon after we came back, so I think she had a bit of a scare too.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed. “I’m sorry about that. What can I do to make things better for you?”

  Libido: Orgasms would certainly relax me.

  Nope. Not on offer.

  “I’m good. Thank you for asking.”

  Libido: The hell we’re good. We’re in danger of atrophy over here. He knows how to fix us.

  The way those azure-blue depths stared into mine, I was inclined to believe it.

  Upstairs, Mayzie wailed, and I sighed. I made for the stairs, but he stopped me. “I’ll get her. You take a load off. I’ll bring her down. It’s almost 5:30. She has to be hungry.”

  “You’d think. But she refuses to eat for me.”

  “We’ll see if we can’t fix that.”

  I won’t say I didn’t enjoy the view. I was in the kitchen trying to make something for Mayzie when he returned. Mayzie had tears in her eyes, but she was quietly sucking her thumb.

  “She okay?” I was itching to reach out and take her, but I knew that was likely to add to her tears. We still hadn’t gotten used to each other yet. Even though she seemed perfectly happy with him.

  Just how bad was I at this mothering thing that she was happier with a stranger?

  Jax wasted no time; he just marched over to me and handed me Mayzie. “You take her. I’ll do that.”

  Flustered, I stumbled over my words. I wasn’t used to someone telling me what to do. “Oh, it’s okay. I’m almost done. Getting her to eat is a major pain.”

  He took one sniff of the organic pea-and-carrot concoction from the super, hyped-up, all-natural mom brand and frowned. “No wonder she won’t eat. Even this organic stuff comes with a smell. It's the packaging. I don't know why, but my niece was the same way. She wouldn't eat a single flavor of the stuff. But if we made her food ourselves, she'd gobble it right up."

  I blinked. "What?”

  He slid a glance at Mayzie, who was still slapping her hands on my cheeks.

  “I’m here. Let me help. Me. The manny."

  "Do you know you wrinkle your nose every time you say the word manny?"

  He scrubbed a knuckle over the edge of his nose. It was cute. “I prefer child minder or child care provider.”

  I grinned. “I think manny is cute.”

  What? No. No. Not cute manny.

  God, how long had it been since I’d had an orgasm? Though that question was neither here nor there because I was not shagging the new manny. Because that is not something that I did. I played it safe for obvious reasons, because if I didn't, the world would turn to shit.

  "How do you even know what to do with kids? I feel like I’m fumbling around in the dark with a blindfold on and someone is blasting death metal all the time."

  "I told you, I have a niece. I used to watch her a lot. They moved to Sweden, but they used to live on the big island, and I'd see her every week. I also have eight nephews scattered around the world."

  Watching him talk about his niece, I could see his face soften. His hard edges were gone. He was still strikingly beautiful. But less like the lethal edge of a sword and more like insanely hot role model. I wasn't sure which I preferred.

  "I just—" I took a deep breath to get my emotions under control. "I don't know what to do."

  He indicated the seat at the island. " You sit there, and I'll pull some stuff out of the fridge. Were you able to go shopping yet?"

  I shook my head. "I’ve been ordering food every day, which makes me just feel gross."

  "Hey, it's a way to get things done. Don't feel bad about actually finding a way through the chaos."

  "Yeah, I want to do it right with Mayzie. Every perfect mom in a magazine says do it right, but I’m overwhelmed if I’m being honest. I never planned on having a kid on my own, you know? And my plate was pretty full already, so it's just been a little much."

  "No problem. You sit. Make a list of the things that you need. Or at least know that you need, or think that you need, or have always wanted."

  "Yeah? Then what?"

  He pulled vegetables out of the fridge. Spinach and broccoli, and then the white sweet potatoes that I had. I didn't like the orange ones when I made fries. It just looked weird.

  "Do you have any apples? Or applesauce?"

  "Yes, I have applesauce. Or at least there's some in the pantry. I didn’t know if she was old enough for it or not."

  "Yeah, I think she is. But when in doubt, Google it."

  He typed something quickly into his phone and then he nodded. "Yes, she can have applesauce." And then he searched in the freezer and found some peas.

  "You make your list. I'll make her something she'll eat."

  "Something she'll eat?"

  He shrugged. "I certainly hope so. Or you and I will be eating this concoction for dinner."

  My stomach grumbled. "Oh my God. I should feed you, right? I should totally feed you."

  He shook his head and held up his hand. "You, sit. I can feed myself, and you look like you need someone to do something for you for once. So, it'll be simple, but I can manage."

  "Seriously, where did you come from?"

  He grinned. "The Islands, by way of London."

  "That sounds like a fascinating story."

  He shrugged. "Not really. List."

  "Um, I don't even know what to write down."

  "Just say it out loud, make the note, and then you and I will figure out how we're going to get it done."

  "I swear you're like a buff Mary Poppins."

  He paused as he grabbed the chopping board from the cupboard. "So, you think I'm buff?"

  "Now I also think you’re cocky."

  He chuckled then. "Make your list."

  “I still need to go through all the paperwork. There is so much to deal with in terms of the gallery."

  "I get it. What about your assistants? Do you trust them to do the business things?"

  She nodded. "Implicitly. They handle my business, but I don't know if they can handle something additional."

  "All right, you probably need to hire someone else. But for now, pull one of them into taking care of stuff at Willa’s gallery. At least temporarily.”

  He had a point there. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I guess I can add that to the list. What, you're going to take over my life and make everything perfect for me?"

  It was a joke. I swear to God it was a joke. But he turned, and the look he gave me was so intense I swear the man could see my uterus contracting. "You've hired Royal Elite. It's part of the service. Anything you need, I'll provide."

  Libido: See earlier note about orgasms.

  I bit my bottom lip before I could respond. But my skin went hot and prickly. Could he see? I was a native islander, so I'd been all mixed up with my Afro-Caribbean heritage, some East Indian, some Caucasian, and it left me with a bronze complexion, that made it hard to identify me ethnically. It also made it hard to see when I was going red. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Those eyes of his, the way they assessed me, fluttered over my body for the briefest moment before flickering back to my eyes. "Good."

  Jesus Christ. I felt like he’d just lic
ked me all over. And if he licked me, was I his now?

  Hell yes.

  “I have to take Mayzie to her doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning.”

  "Okay, we'll all go. Remember, you're not going anywhere without me now."

  "Oh my God, it's like you're married to me now."

  He shot me a grin over his shoulder as he chopped up the sweet potato. "You don't seem so bad. Besides, we’re already intimately acquainted. And I like how you fight. I almost let you pummel the arsehole. It brought fire to your eyes. It was a little scary, but also sort of brilliant."

  Oh boy. I was going to need a change of underwear. The man was good with the kid, concocting something she might eat, and liked me with fire in my eyes. Was there a hot-guy factory that would have made more of him? Because obviously, I couldn't bang my manny. But I could bang one just like him if there was a copy.

  "Um, thank you, I guess."

  "What else do you need? Seriously. When I say that, I mean it. I'll take care of everything you need."

  "If you can fix my love life too, I might have to marry you."

  He lifted a brow. "Trouble in paradise? Is there anyone I need to kill?"

  Why was that really hot? "No. Just my ex. It's fine now He's not worth thinking about. I just have to rebuild everything thanks to him. It’s like he deliberately wanted to tear me down. What kind of guy does that?"

  "Let me be clear with you. That's not a real man. A real man would celebrate your successes, encourage you, and want you to succeed if it made you happy. He was a twat."

  I slid a glance at the baby.

  He shook his head. "She doesn't know what that means yet, but I will watch my language with her."

  "Okay. So yeah, those are the parts of my life I need to fix, and if you could possibly bring Willa back from the dead, that would be amazing."

  "Well, I don't know how to do that. But the other things I can sort of make happen. What about staff? Who do you want in the house?"

  "Uh, I don't need staff."

  "Sure you do. This is a really big house and it's going to need to be dusted. Little miss over there, is mobile. She will put just about anything into her mouth. While you are trying to protect her, she’s actually trying to kill herself, so you need someone to clean."