by Reina Torres
“We have our attorneys and social work staff meeting with the girls and immigration in the morning.”
Vicente didn’t notice that he’d tensed up until Sloane touched his arm and stroked her fingers a few inches along his coat sleeve.
“The girls will be given a chance, Agent. They weren’t here on their own. As part of the task force, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of inhuman and inhumane behavior.
“If the girls have family here and would like to stay, we’ll make every effort to get them a Visa. However, if they would like to return home, we can also assist and give them a way home where they will be safe. These girls are all victims.”
He nodded. “A lot of people forget that.”
Sloane looked as if she was about to say something, but her lips remained closed.
Hildie stepped up beside Sloane and draped and arm over her friend’s shoulders. “Sloane knows it more than anyone, Agent. You don’t have to worry if we’re on the scene.”
He lowered his eyes as Sloane swiped her palm over each eye on turn.
“The FBI can offer you a stay at an area hotel while you’re under our protection and-”
“We can use my apartment, Agent.”
He hesitated, and her friend jumped in.
“She has a great security system. The whole complex has security cameras, and except for the random ‘high class’ call girls that go up to Four B, everyone in the building are good folks.” She paused and then started again. “And be careful you don’t get on Mrs. Carter’s bad side.”
She looked at Sloane who supplied the answer. “Two A.”
“Yes, Two A. She’s a one-woman Neighborhood Watch program.” With a long sigh, Hildie shook her head. “She dinged me for loitering in the hallway with that attorney in Two C.”
Sloane couldn’t seem to stop the way the corner of her mouth curled up. “Well, she did you a favor, trust me.”
A knock at the door drew their attention. A young resident in scrubs stepped in. “Miss King, I’m Winnie Cahill. I’m going to take care of your wound, so you can go home quickly.”
Hildie arched a brow. “You trying to get rid of us?”
“No, Miss. But if you stay here any longer they’re likely to put you in a room overnight and while the food here is improving, no one is a fan of the kitchen.”
Laughing, Sloane held her arm out. “Then let’s get stitching.”
As the resident cleaned Sloane’s wound and began the process of closing the wound, Vicente stood against the wall watching.
Contrary to the warnings from Dr. Clarke, not only was Winnie capable, she was pleasant and easy to be around.
In no time at all Sloane’s arm was patched up and she was ready to leave.
“Hey,” Hildie leaned in to her friend and almost-whispered, “you want me to go with you? For extra protection.”
Sloane narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You got a black belt while I wasn’t looking?”
Hildie looked shell-shocked. “Bite your tongue. Black isn’t my color.” The women shared a laugh. “No, silly, so you can protect the Agent from your neighbor. She’d snap him up in a heartbeat. He’s hot, in case you didn’t notice. So, keep a hand on him at all times or you’ll lose him before you get inside your place.”
Sloane kissed her friend on the cheek. “Go home, sleep, you’ve earned it.”
Hildie returned the gesture and walked up to him, standing nose to his neck. “You keep her safe, or I’ll make you pay.”
He gave her a solemn nod. “She’ll be safe.”
Turning on her heel, Hildie moved for the door. “Well, I sure told him.”
Alone for the first time, Sloane looked over at him. “I’m sorry, I’m about one minute away from falling asleep for a week. I know you told me your name, but….”
He took out his badge and set it in her hand, open. “Vicente Bravo.”
She examined the badge before she closed it and handed it back. “Well, Agent Bravo,” she smiled, “what naughty thing did you do to get babysitting duty?”
He saw her shoulders shake with laughter and her pearly white teeth peek out beneath her upper lip, but it was when she turned her full gaze on his, showed him the mossy green of her irises as she gazed up at him, that Vicente realized he was in deep trouble.
Chapter 3
By the time they’d left the hospital it was long past dinner, but Sloane didn’t want to go in anywhere and sit down. She doubted that she’d make it through the meal without falling asleep in her food. Besides, she knew that Agent Bravo was going to have to tell her how this whole protection thing was going to work, and she doubted that he’d do that at a restaurant with lots of windows.
She heard him clear his throat and she looked over at him in the driver’s seat.
He made sure he had her attention before he spoke. “I was thinking of driving through somewhere on the way to your apartment. Get something to eat.”
“Sure.”
A little bit of uncomfortable silence fell between them.
“Is there something you’d like? A certain place you’d like to go?”
She shook her head and then sighed. “No. I don’t usually drive through-”
“Well, I don’t think either of us is up to sitting in a nice place with tablecloths and finger bowls, and I’m sure that the places you usually eat don’t do take out.” She heard his soft cough of laughter. “Then again if I told them Sloane King was hungry, they’d probably send a chef to your house.”
They slowed to a stop at a red light and Sloane turned toward him. It took a moment before he turned to look at her.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t like me very much, Agent Bravo.”
She watched the slight lift and fall of his Adam’s apple, back lit by a twenty-four-hour laundromat across the street.
“I don’t know you well enough to say that I don’t like you,” he qualified. “And really, it wouldn’t matter if I did or didn’t like you. I’ll do my duty and protect you.”
“You’re right on the first part. You don’t know me well enough, but you certainly don’t like me. That’s pretty clear.” She sighed and turned back to look through the windshield. This was going to be a long night. “Could you pull over somewhere so we can talk, please?”
He didn’t give her a verbal answer, but when the light turned green, the agent pulled through the intersection and turned into the parking lot of an orthodontist’s office and came to an easy stop.
She sank back against the seat. She should have left well enough along. Men didn’t usually react well to the truth when they think it doesn’t make them look good. Doctor Clarke was a good enough example. She’d have to wait and see if the agent fell into the same category.
But she thought that maybe the chip on his shoulder wasn’t the same as the doctor’s.
“Okay, I’m going to make a guess and if I’m wrong, then you should just go ahead and tell me what the problem is so we can get it out of the way, because I’m exhausted and starving.”
He nodded slowly, but she could tell that he was definitely curious. “Okay.”
“If I had to guess, you’re just waiting for me to break down and turn into a raving bitch throwing my weight around. Like maybe I’ll send you out of gourmet dog food for my Pekinese Pooch name Portia, maybe spelled like the car and not the Shakespeare character, but I prefer the Bard. Or maybe you think I’ll send you out to get my laundry.”
He didn’t say anything, but then again, he looked like he was sitting there surrounded by rattlers, so maybe she was close.
“I’ll let you know now that I don’t have a dog, I’m not home enough to make it worthwhile for the pet. And I certainly don’t need any help picking up my laundry. But,” she paused for effect. “I might just ask you to go out and off someone who dishonored my family three generations ago. I can tell you where to bury the body, but I’ll deny it if you put me on the stand.”
That almost made him crack a smile.
&nb
sp; “Seriously. I may have the name that everyone thinks is like the Megabucks Lottery winner, but I’m just a woman, Agent Bravo. That’s all you need to know about me.”
She watched him as he processed the information.
“Well?” she asked him. “How did I do? Did I get anywhere near the target?”
A low rumbling sound came from his throat. “You’re too observant by half, Miss King.”
She smiled, pleased with herself. “I wouldn’t say that. My teachers used to say I was ‘overly talkative’ and ‘precocious.’ My parents took it to mean I was intelligent. Uncle Glen called me a pain in the ass. It’s all in how you choose to see it, but I’m just happy to be me these days. Sorry you had to get dragged into this.”
He shook his head. “I was just added onto this task force today. The only thing I’ve heard about you before is what I saw on the tv and in the newspapers.”
She nodded and hissed out a curse. “Big smiles and cocktail dresses looking like I don’t have enough cells in my brain to rub together for a spark?”
The laugh that escaped his lips was smothered by a cough. “Nothing quite that bad.”
Almost on cue, her belly rumbled, and she grimaced at the definitely unladylike sound.
He smiled, a half-smile, at least from what she could tell with the dark shadows in the car. “We better get some food.”
She sighed and relaxed into her seat as he shifted the car into drive. “Good, I’m starved. And before you start up on the restaurant crack from before, I was trying to tell you that I’ve never been to that hospital before, so I have no idea what’s in the area.”
“Point taken. I’m sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “No biggie. Other people have been bigger jerks than you were.”
“Thanks… I think.” He started down the street and leaned forward to look out through the windshield. “Hey. I think we’re near Las Quesadillas. Have you been there before?”
She shook her head and laughed. “Nope, but I’m a girl that likes tortillas and cheese, so if you’re promising me lots of that, I’m game.”
“Lots of cheese and tortillas. And house made salsa that just might be better than my mom’s. Try to tell her that I said it, and I’ll deny it to the death.”
She held up her hands. “Feed me and you’ll have no such problems.”
By the time they drove through and ordered enough food to feed him two times over, Vicente was wondering just how much he’d misjudged Sloane King.
No socialite he’d ever been forced to endure would have been caught dead oohing and aahing over chicharrons, but when he’d put in an order for himself, she’d given him this puppy dog look as she held up a single finger.
“Uno mas?”
He’d rolled his eyes and ordered a second one.
And when they’d pulled into the parking garage for her apartment he’d tried to hide his shock. He hadn’t been to this part of town in a while and he would admit to himself that he’d expected to pull up to a palace, with valets on duty and a concierge service. Not the completely normal apartment complex that they’d driven into.
Vicente knew he had to do a lot of thinking, but first he had to get his head out of his ass.
He followed Sloane’s directions and parked in one of the guest spots for the rest of the night.
She gave him a soft smile. “Tomorrow I’ll talk to the building manager and see if we can get a spot assigned to you. You’ll probably have to explain your requirements.”
“Requirements?”
“For what you need to do… your thing.”
“Guarding you?”
“Yeah, that.”
He grinned at her and she felt a little confused. Didn’t he hate her just a little while ago?
“Well, first thing’s first. When we get out of the car,” he explained, “I’m going to ask you to carry the food. If we were just out together, I’d carry the bags in, but as your guard, I’m going to need my hands free.”
“Okay,” she replied, still a few seconds behind the conversation, her exhaustion catching up with her, or maybe it was the pain medication they’d given her at the hospital. “I’ll carry the food, you watch for the boogeyman.”
She heard his soft laughter.
“If it’s the boogeyman you’re on your own. I’m out of here if he shows up.”
She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to me to get the one guard afraid of the boogeyman.”
“Hey, I’ll take care of the bad guys. I’ll even take care of spiders and snakes, but I draw the line at the boogeyman.” Almost as if he had to show her how serious he was, he crossed himself and bowed his head.
“Okay,” she shifted on the seat, “fair exchange. Now, let’s get going, I’m starving.”
Taking the large bag into the circle of one arm, she grasped the handle of the drink holder with the other, and when Vicente opened her door and gestured for her to exit, she slid easily to the ground from his SUV.
Tucked into his side as if they were a couple that couldn’t quite keep their hands off each other, Sloane let Vicente walk her up to the lobby door.
A wave to the security guard in the lobby had the door unlocked so that Vicente could press his shoulder to the glass and push it open.
“Head for the elevator.”
She did as he asked, keeping her gaze focused on the double sliding doors.
Pushing the up button with her elbow she didn’t have more than a breath of space before he walked up behind her.
Sloane couldn’t see to be sure, but she would have bet all the money in her purse, something around fourty-two dollars, that he was standing directly behind her, shielding her body from the glass windows of the lobby with his own.
It felt odd, really.
But no odder than being shot.
Ah, her little snarky voice popped up, just in case she hadn’t been sure that she was too damn tired to function.
Mercifully, the elevator doors opened and it was an empty car.
They stepped inside, Sloane taking the corner when the agent gestured to her.
And he didn’t even ask her what floor she was on, just pushed the button. Squeezing her eyes shut against the bright lights, she remembered that she’d told him her address at the hospital.
“Miss King?”
She heard the concern in his voice and lifted her head up a little to see him watching her with concern.
“Are you okay?”
Swallowing to ease the tight feeling in her throat, she gave him a wan smile. “Bone tired,” she admitted. “If I’d taken the pain pills earlier at the hospital you would have had to take me out in a wheelchair or a gurney.”
He shook his head. “No. Sorry. Draw the line at that. I need my hands free.”
Her lips turned down at the corners. “You would have left me there?”
“No.”
“Made me walk?” She saw him dart a glance over his shoulder watching the numbers on the wall.
“No.”
She pressed her lips together until they made a thin pale line. “Then how would I have gotten home? Hildie drove me to the crash site today?”
He gave her a look that silenced her words. “I would have thrown you over my shoulder and carried you. I told you I need my hands free, remember?”
She swallowed again and nodded. “I remember.”
He chuckled. “You’re almost adorable tired. I wonder what you’re going to be like in the morning.”
The door opened and Vicente stepped out into the hallway before gesturing for her to follow him. She moved after him, focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
After looking down both sides of the hallway, he moved off to the right and she followed, still grumbling to herself.
It was childish, and stupid, she told herself. She wasn’t that person. But exhaustion had wrung her out, left her aching, and dragging herself down the hall.
When they got to the door, he unlocked it with her key and ushered her just
inside the door. She rattled off her alarm code just in case he needed the reminder.
Within seconds, he had the alarm disarmed. He locked the door and they were alone.
Maybe.
“I’m going to check the other rooms. Stay here.”
“Mmmm,” she didn’t get out a word before he moved away toward the hallway.
She knew what he was seeing. Her office, once a spare room that Hildie had stayed in once or twice, and then her bedroom, and its own bathroom.
Simple.
Spare.
Hers.
By the time he came back into the room, he had to take hold of her shoulders and stand her up from where she was leaning heavily against the door.
“Miss King?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“Miss King? Look at me.”
She pried her eyes open and looked at him.
“Let’s get you to the table.”
Nodding, she let him lead her.
The ice in the drinks made little tinkling noises as he took the carrier from her and set it on the table.
She set the bag she was carrying down and looked at the contents. “This is great for me, but where’s the food for you?”
“Don’t even try it.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Make sure you eat before you fall asleep at the table.”
She gave him a look and reached into the bag. “I’m tired, not drunk.”
She unpacked the food and at one point held up a paper wrapped package and drew in a long breath. “This one’s mine.”
He chuckled. “It better not be the chorizo. I’ll fight you for it.”
She held it to her chest and gave him a look. “You could try, G-man, but no one gets between me and food.”
She was ready for another snarky comment, instead she turned to look at him in the silence and saw him looking over her body from head to toe and back again.
If it had been a guy off of the street she’d have told him off in a second, but his gaze didn’t feel rude or make her skin crawl.
