Men of Danger

by Lora Leigh

  Butterflies swirled in her belly and exploded in a cloud of dancing tremors the moment he shut the door. He’d declined because he cared? Wasn’t seeking a front row and the limelight, and actually cared about appearances for her own good? Then there was the way he looked at her, oh, my God. The man smelled so good, too . . . and the tux just set off every chiseled feature in his handsome face and phenomenal bod.

  She kept her gaze directed out of the window as the vehicle began its slow egress out of the lot and onto the street, wondering if Zachary Mitchell had someone special in his life.

  IT WAS AN experience of a lifetime to be backstage at the famous Apollo Theater, brushing elbows with the glitterati. But his focus was singular as he waited for her in the wings; to be sure nothing happened to Anita Brown. She’d selected one of her soulful ballads from her new album, What Happened to Us, and as the sad anthem dipped and swayed, he watched her move to the lyrics of heartbreak, mesmerized by hers and remembering his own.

  However, nothing could have prepared him for her bright expression as she exited and came into the wings breathless, greeting him and blotting her forehead.

  “How was I? Was it good?”

  He didn’t know what to say for a moment, but found the words before her face fell. “It was . . . beyond awesome.”

  Her spontaneous hug blew his mind, almost blew a gasket, and then she left his embrace to dash back to get her makeup retouched. He waited, trying to stay detached in the flurry of backstage activity, and then quickly escorted her to her seat. He felt her tense on his arm as she passed her ex, but remained in character— then gave her a wink and a discreet thumbs-up to make her smile.

  Anita kept her gaze forward. She would not even glance at Jonathan and his new conquest. They were becoming increasingly irrelevant anyway. If she could just watch her fellow performers do their thing that was good enough for her. Zachary’s wink, his support, meant all the difference in the world. But that made no sense; she’d just met the man.

  Suddenly as they began reading off the nominations for best R&B Emerging Solo Album, she understood why she’d surrounded herself with so many negative people. Her family wasn’t there, her friends were mostly surface people she’d met along the way coming up, and now at a moment like this there was no one to sit on pins and needles with her . . . no one to hold her hand and cheer with her.

  When they called her name, electricity shot through her, along with a numbing pang of loneliness. But she held her head high, put on her best star smile, and walked to the podium to accept her award in honor of her late mother.

  CHAPTER 5

  NAVIGATING ANITA THROUGH the throng of well-wishers, fans, and cameras made him feel like a salmon swimming upstream. He waited patiently in the background of the after-party, watching her schmooze and politic with all the right people, and knowing she had to be exhausted. But he also monitored the tension within her as her brothers approached; the conversation did not look like it was going well. He caught Jonathan Evans’s smug expression. That’s when he moved in.

  “I told you it was all settled,” Anita said in a low voice, glaring at her brothers. “Why can’t you all just be happy for me? I’m not about to discuss any of that here.”

  “Is there a problem, ma’am?” Zachary leaned in calmly, but had positioned Anita slightly behind him.

  “This is family, rent-a-cop,” Antwan said. “So step off.”

  “If you’re bothering the lady, you’re bothering me— back away from her personal space.”

  “What the fuck?” Derrick said, and then nodded to three men across the room.

  “Do not start in here, please,” Anita said. “I’m ready to go, Zachary. I don’t need this.”

  Unfortunately, Antwan grabbed her arm and jerked her back toward him.

  “I said we are gonna discuss it now, because you ain’t—”

  It was reflex. Zach spun backward and caught Antwan in the temple and dropped him where he stood. Derrick rushed him, but in a lightning-fast jujitsu move, he’d caught Derrick’s arm and had it twisted behind his back at a precarious angle without even wrinkling his tux.

  “The lady said she was ready to leave,” Zachary said in a low, quiet threat. “I suggest that you do not cause her or yourself any further embarrassment tonight.” He flung her brother away from his hold, smoothed his lapels and then took up Anita’s arm. “You stay with me,” he said quietly, ushering her through the crowd at a rapid pace. “The cameras are going to be all over it and you don’t need to be near it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, dipping out of the door behind him, and then held his arm tighter as he guided her through a back hotel exit.

  “I want you in the car,” he said, opening the limo door and quickly ushering her in. “If it gets really crazy, use your cell and call 911, but do not open the door.”

  She didn’t have time to respond as three men entered the underground limo valet port, and Zachary took a stance.

  “That was our boy,” one of the combatants said and then looked at the limo. “‘Twan and Derrick, us— we all go way back, and that’s his sister— so you’d better tell your boss that we do her security detail!”

  “Bing? Is that you?” Anita opened the limo door and got out.

  “Please get back in the vehicle,” Zachary said, glancing at her and then at the men who were slowly approaching him. “Gentlemen, I suggest that you don’t do anything stupid tonight. Trust me, this will not end well.”

  “You fuckin’ A— right it won’t end well,” the leader identified as Bing said, and then pulled out a nine millimeter.

  Before he could brandish it, he was on his back, weapon stripped, coughing up blood. Zachary had a knee in his chest, his arm outstretched, weapon dead aim.

  “On the ground! Now!”

  The two men that had been with Bing slowly got down on the cement garage floor. Zachary jumped up keeping the gun trained on them. “Call 911,” he said to Anita.

  The heavy guy with the fade haircut spoke up first, trying to compromise, even though his skinny little friend glared at Zach with hatred.

  “C’mon, ’Nita, have a heart— it ain’t registered, Bing’s got outstanding warrants . . . you know we all grew up together . . . damn, my suit is all jacked, c’mon, girl.”

  Zach pulled the gun back and then unloaded the clip. “If I see you assholes anywhere near this lady again, I’m gonna oops and accidentally pull the trigger . . . and explain to the cops later. We clear?”

  Two heads nodded as Bing rolled over, holding his throat and groaned. Zachary tossed the clip across the lot and wiped the gun off with his suit before dropping it at his feet. The cameras would find them soon and valets who’d seen the whole thing go down were craning their necks to get a glimpse of the aftermath. They had to get out of there.

  “Please, ma’am, don’t make me ask you again . . . get back in the limo.”

  Anita sat in silence, staring at the divider glass. Damn . . . But if body language was any indicator, Zachary Mitchell was so pissed off he probably couldn’t speak. Her brothers had ruined her evening— adding drama like they always did, and Jonathan had aided and abetted them in their shenanigans by even allowing them a pass in. Her father hadn’t even come up to congratulate her, being too busy with the women he was chasing. She sat back and closed her eyes. Still it felt good to have someone stand up for her. The hangers-on from the old neighborhood were history after this last fiasco. They’d pulled a gun? Were they high? Then she saw it . . . her award. Zach had had someone bring the award to the car for her, rather than let them ship it?

  She leaned forward and picked up the box, extracting it carefully. Her fingers played over the engraving and she clutched it to her chest trying not to tear and mess up her makeup. If only her mama was still alive— she’d been the one who believed when no one else did.

  The moment Anita felt the limo come to a full stop she glanced around, glad that NextStarz had at least kept her temporary location secret— bu
t that’s when she saw the mob of cameras rush the vehicle. Zach had maneuvered it into a space, but they were now boxed in from all sides.

  The divider window lowered. “Are you ready?” Zach said, without looking at her.

  Anita took a deep breath. “Yeah . . . are you?”

  He didn’t answer, just got out of the vehicle, but she noticed that after the first reporter caught a severe elbow to the jaw, the others backed up and gave him enough space to round her door.

  Bright lights flashed creating a miasma of light as she exited and grabbed Zach’s hand.

  “Back up and give the lady space,” Zach said in a sonic boom, and one cameraman who hadn’t gotten the memo took a flat-palm blow to the chest that instantly put him on the ground.

  Voices screamed out a cacophony of insulting questions, and suddenly a strong arm was around her waist as a stone-cut torso was body-shielding her, lifting her, hurrying her without effort.

  “Is it true your brothers have beef with your new security company?”

  “We heard you’ve made a police report about a stalker, Queen B! Talk to us, have you seen him?”

  “Is it true you cut your father off and left your siblings high and dry?”

  “Who’s the new limo driver— any romantic connection?”

  “How’s it feel to come back so strong in R&B after a disastrous year in the rap game?”

  She wanted to yell out curses for them to leave her alone, to tell them all to get a life— to tell them that it felt like she’d exited hell and entered a peaceful new world the second the doors shut behind her. But she said none of those things, just kept her head down as she held onto Zach, slumping now from relief.

  However that relief was short-lived as they made their way to the elevators. She was just about to thank him when he whirled on her, frowning.

  “Do not ever pull a stunt like that again,” he said in a low warning and then stared at the doors.

  “Wait a minute,” she said, beginning to take offense. “First of all—”

  “What, you pay me?” he said, looking her dead in her eyes. “And this is what you pay me to do— keep you safe. When you’re with me and on my security detail, you do as I say. We clear?”

  “Yeah, and all you forgot was the ma’am at the end of that sentence,” she snapped.

  “In public, you are ma’am at all times. Period.” His arm came away from his body in a hard point toward where the paparazzi had been. “You saw those sharks out there. I heard their questions. You did not deserve or need that on your big night.”

  He turned away from her and kept his gaze focused on the elevator doors until they opened.

  “I don’t know how they found me,” she said quietly as the doors closed behind them.

  “Your ex or your family probably fed them your new location; that would be my first guess. Only one guy showed up from the new firm— me. They clearly want their old contract back and aren’t happy with the new arrangement.”

  “That is so low . . . damn, you think they would go there?” she said, shaking her head as the elevator let them off on their floor.

  Zachary stopped walking. “A man had a gun in your face, Anita. If they’d do that, and this is the so-called posse your brothers are still running with, do I need to fill in the blanks?”

  “That was just Bing from the old neighborhood,” she said, handing him the keys.

  “Would you listen to yourself?” He shoved the door open and walked through the apartment, fury mea suring his every step. “All clear!”

  “Yo, what’s your problem?” she said, closing the door behind them and walking over to the coffee table angrily to set down her award and her purse.

  “What’s my problem?” he said evenly. “You sound like a person who is used to settling, used to accepting unacceptable behavior as a norm.”

  “Oh, you just need to get out of my house with that bull.” Anita placed her hands on her hips as he crossed the room. “You don’t know me. What do you know about where I came from anyway?”

  “I know a lot about you and where you came from— my mother came from the same place you did. Different location, same state of mind!” He pointed at her hard and his voice was like slow, rolling thunder. “She allowed herself to be around people who meant her no good, treated her any way they wanted to, and in the end, it killed a beautiful, classy woman— made her go home to glory long before her time. So, if you want to hang around thugs, give them a free pass on the things they do wrong, and squander all your beauty and brains and talent, then be my guest. I don’t have to like it; I’m just the hired help. But while you’re my charge, oh, hell, no! The next time a fool you know from the old ‘hood puts a gun in your face I will break his punk arm off. We clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, and then bit her lip hiding a tiny smile. “Okay . . . then, can I extend a peace offering?”

  “Not necessary,” he muttered. “I just need to get my suit and put this tux back in the bag for your stylist. I’ll call in the next shift and will leave when my security detail replacement gets here.” Zach looked down at his suit and noted a missing cuff link. “Please let your stylist know that I’ll pay for any damages.”

  “Javier won’t require all that, if I give him the blow-by-blow recount of how your suit got damaged . . . and you don’t want to be on the hook for designer diamond and onyx links— we’ll work it out.”

  “No, I insist,” Zach argued and folded his arms.

  “How about a cup of coffee, since I’m pretty sure you won’t have a drink while on duty— you just seem like the type.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of joe; it’s been a long day.”

  “How about a hot shower to go along with it?” She smiled wider when he simply stared at her.

  “There’s towels and stuff in the guest bathroom. After all the drama, I don’t know about you but I’m ready to get out of the heels, get this makeup off my face.” She shrugged and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna start the coffee, shower, and put on some sweats— you can do as you like.”

  It was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Just a little time to decompress and find his way back to center was in order. The hard spray and warm water unkinked his tight muscles and felt like a sedative. Until he’d stepped into the multihead spray, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been running on fumes.

  That didn’t change the fact that Anita Brown was the most exasperating woman and at the same time she had a heart of gold. He’d quickly jumped in and out of the warm water, and to his surprise, she’d beaten him to the task. When he met her in the kitchen, her face was scrubbed clean and she had on an oversized tank top and a pair of soft grey yoga pants. The only evidence that she’d been at the awards gala was her hair was still done up in crystal pins.

  “Hey . . .” he said quietly as he entered the kitchen and leaned on the center counter. “I’m sorry I yelled back there. Still had a lot of adrenaline in my system and was worried about what could have happened to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. At least you were fussing at me for a good reason . . . and I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. I do tolerate a lot of mess I shouldn’t.” She brought him a coffee mug and leaned on the counter. “I like the change . . . the shirt with no tie, sleeves rolled up, no jacket. You look a little more relaxed. Cream and sugar?”

  “No . . . just black . . . and you were right about the shower,” he said, accepting the mug from her and taking a sip. “And right about the coffee. Thank you. Anita,” he added with purpose.

  She smiled brightly and took a sip from her mug.

  “You have a really beautiful smile,” he said. “If you don’t mind me saying.”

  “I don’t mind you saying,” she said and then nodded toward the coffee table. “Thank you for getting that put in the limo. It can take days before they ship your stuff sometimes.”

  “You worked hard for that award and should be able to look at it tonight,” he said quietly. “Your performance
was outstanding.”

  “So was yours,” she said, lifting her mug to him in a small salute. “I didn’t feel like I was by myself tonight— I knew there was somebody there, for once, who even if it was part of their job, gave a damn about whether I . . . I don’t know.”

  “It wasn’t just because it was a part of my job, Anita,” he said, abandoning his coffee as he stared at her. “You deserve to have somebody treat you nice, that’s just basic.”

  “So, you don’t believe the tabloids?”

  “Why should I? That’s not the person I’ve seen.”

  She made a little tick with her tongue against her teeth. “Everybody thinks I’m some kind of—”

  He held up his hand. “I’m not everybody.”

  She looked at him, watching how the small appliance lights of the kitchen mixed with moonlight played across his handsome face. “No, you’re not everybody at all.”

  For a long time neither of them spoke and finally he looked away.

  “I should call in.”

  She shook her head no. “Not yet.”

  “You have an early flight I’m told.”

  She rounded the counter and came to stand in front of him. “I know.” She rested her palms against his chest and looked up.

  “This could get really complicated.”

  “It already is . . . don’t you feel it?”

  “Yeah . . . I do.”

  He nodded and leaned down to take her mouth and closed his eyes, breathing in her fresh showered fragrance, tasting cream and sugar and coffee all at the same time this soft woman melted against him. He could feel his hands tremble; she was so delicate, like a piece of living art that breathed into his mouth, exploding sensations in his groin. It was a sensory indulgence that had been denied for too long, he had to allow his hands to flow over the satiny texture of her skin, then intermittently hit fabric, following the rise and swell of her body’s curves while her tongue hunted his.

  Delirium began to shred his formality, began to jeopardize his mission not to take things too far. Common sense peeled away swiftly; it happened as her graceful fingers gently traced the planes of his cheeks and slid down his neck, as though memorizing his face by sheer touch, then they found his back.