Nolan cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Your brothers are still locked up in the conference room?”
“They probably won’t come out.” She dropped her head into her hands and massaged her temples.
He wanted to ask questions, to know what the hell had led to an assassination and three dead bodies that linked one of Aegis’ competitors and the Yakuza. But he couldn’t pry. He couldn’t ask questions. At least not about work.
Yvonne lowered her hands to her lap and looked at him. She had this calculating way of dissecting people when she was in her element. Nolan had watched her do this to others before approaching them. She might not have her older brother’s ability to charm, but she was a smart woman who knew how to get what he wanted. He had no doubt she was her brother’s secret weapon.
What was her angle? What did she want from him?
“If this is going to work, my family cannot know about Vegas any more than they already do.” She folded her hands in her lap. The pink in her cheeks betrayed her. The sex kitten was still in there.
“What do they already know?”
“You spoke to my father for one.” Her lips twisted up into a grimace.
“I—what?” Nolan reached back into his memory. He remembered answering his phone...
Yvonne’s eyes widened a bit. “You don’t remember?”
“I got a phone call that we had an emergency call and I had to go,” he said slowly.
“Before that?”
Nolan frowned, trying to recall. That had been a particularly rough morning. The hangover had slowed him down, plus he hadn’t wanted to leave.
She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “You seriously don’t remember reaching over me to answer my phone?”
“I answered my phone.”
“The second time, but the first time you answered my phone.” She jabbed her finger at her collar bone. “You spent five minutes arguing with my father about why he was calling you.”
“Oh, fuck.” Nolan rubbed his hand across his face. He was conditioned to wake up from a deep sleep to the sound of his phone. He’d answered more than a few calls without his mind fully engaged. “I am—fuck. I’m sorry.”
Booze and good sex must have really knocked him out harder than he realized if his memory of that morning was this hazy. Was it possible there was more he didn’t recall?
“Just stay away from my father if at all possible, okay? He won’t remember your voice, but it’s probably better to not chance it.” She blew out a breath and sat back.
“What else happened?”
She shrugged.
“Don’t say nothing. I’ve watched you do that shoulder lift and glance to the right thing enough the last two days to realize it’s not nothing.”
“I do what?” Now she frowned.
“Whenever you’re going along with what your brothers want, you do that. Shrug, glance off that way and go with whatever they say.” Nolan scooted to the edge of his seat, his knees on either side of hers and leaned forward. “If I fucked up tell me.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
She sat up straighter, if that were possible, and picked at a bit of imaginary lint on her pant leg. He was content to wait her out.
She didn’t look at him when she spoke. “The whole morning was rather awful. I’d prefer to just forget it.”
“And privately stew about it instead of telling me what I did that pissed you off this bad?” He wasn’t sure why her backing off the issue bothered him this much, but he was going to hear her grievances.
“Does it really matter anymore? We have bigger things to worry about.”
Nolan placed his hand on her knee. It was the first time he’d touched her when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t miss the jolt of awareness, how her pupils flared for a moment. She wasn’t as unaffected by him as she wanted to believe.
“It matters,” he said finally.
“The whole morning was awful, okay?” She glanced off to the right out of the window at the sky.
“Starting with me arguing with your father. I got that much. Was he mad at you?”
“Not mad, just...disappointed I guess.”
“Disappointed?”
“Yes.”
Nolan nodded as though he understood.
He didn’t.
His family was fucked up. Someone was always mad at someone else, and lately that person was him. He still hadn’t answered his mother’s numerous phone calls.
“You must be close with your dad,” Nolan said to say something.
“We understand each other, I suppose.”
“I’m sorry that I messed that up. I’ll keep my distance, promise. What else?”
She leaned her head back against the headrest. “Pushing me out the door with only one shoe looking the way I did wasn’t exactly a great start to the day.”
“Wait—one shoe?” He winced and closed one eye.
“Yes, and they weren’t even my shoes.” Her restraint was loosening and her eyes flashed as she spoke. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was? You left marks all over my neck and chest. If Tabby hadn’t been staying across the hall from my family, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Marks?” He did remember a rather entertaining episode spent licking spilled campaign off her breasts.
Yvonne leaned toward him and whispered, “Hickies. Who does that?”
Nolan covered his face with both hands.
Shit.
So the morning had begun with him having a confused argument with her father, he’d pushed her out of his room without a shoe and left her to face her family—staying at the same hotel—with hickies on her neck.
That was a dick thing to do. Her frosty reception made sense. He wouldn’t blame her if she still wanted to kick his ass.
“Okay. All I can say is—sorry. I, um, wish things had ended better. I really do.” He sat back, removing his hand from her knee. He had no right to touch her.
“It doesn’t matter now. I just want to get home and...” Her mouth worked soundlessly.
“Everything will be okay,” he said.
“Will it?” Her eyes focused on him and he belatedly realized the standard platitude might not have been a good idea. “People died. My brother was involved. How is that going to be okay?”
They were jumping lanes from personal to professional. He knew how to handle this. “Your brother was kidnapped. That’s an important factor here.”
“He made the murder weapon.”
“That doesn’t make him guilty. Did he do some stupid stuff? Yeah, but being stupid isn’t a crime.” Nolan winced. He’d just called an asset stupid. He didn’t usually misspeak like this, but Yvonne scrambled all his neat lines.
“Maybe you’re right? I just—this whole thing...”
“It’s a lot to deal with. I know, but you’ve got us and I’m sure your family has lawyers to guide you through what’s right.” Nolan didn’t actually believe a lawyer would do any such thing, but Yvonne seemed to need to hear that.
“I guess so.” She stared out the window, lines of worry still marring her pretty face.
Yvonne wasn’t like her brothers. There was a spine of steel under the beautiful exterior. She was the kind of woman who knew how to work for what she wanted. He doubted she’d shy away from anything difficult if it meant accomplishing her goals. But that was work. The thing she dedicated herself to.
The blushing young woman he’d picked up at the bar hadn’t been nearly that confident. She’d tried, he’d give her that. Usually he didn’t like the ones that needed coaxing. It wasn’t like he had time to devote to drawing a woman out of her shell, but Yvonne had been a breath of fresh air. Honest. He hadn’t minded warming her up because everything that had come after was pure passion.
And exactly what he shouldn’t be thinking about.
“So, are we good?” he asked.
“I suppose.” She didn’t look at him.
“Yvonne, we have to work together. It
’ll be easier if you’re honest with me. I’m sorry for being an asshole. I really am.” How much honesty should he give her?
She kept staring out the window at the clouds.
“You want some payback?” he asked.
“What?” She turned her head and looked at him. Her prim little nose wrinkled and damn if he didn’t want to kiss it.
“Just trying to make this better.” He spread his hands.
“We’re fine.” Her face was devoid of emotion, her eyes flat.
“I don’t believe you.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. If we aren’t good, say so. I’ll try to make it right, or if you’d rather not see my ugly face I’ll stay out of your way.”
“Let’s just move on, okay? I don’t know how long you’ll be working with us and I’d like for things to be...easier. I think there’s enough on our plate, don’t you?”
“I agree, but don’t you think things would be best if we totally cleared the air?”
“There is nothing else.” She did that same shoulder-look-away thing.
Yvonne was hiding something from him. A wrong doing. A thought. A feeling.
His gut said to keep pushing until she told him everything.
His head said it wasn’t his right.
They’d spent one night together. That didn’t entitle him to anything, but damn it he wished it did. But he was the only one who wanted that.
There were too many things going on. Too many secrets. But they wouldn’t prevent him from doing his job, which was keeping the Krieger’s—specifically Yvonne—safe. He was good at what he did. Being attracted to her wouldn’t change that, it only gave him a personal investment in this job.
“Nolan?”
“Hm?” He glanced at her.
The mask had dropped a bit, giving him a glimpse at the woman she hid from the world. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Just—thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” But damn if he didn’t want more.
MONDAY. GRIMALDI PLACE, Chevy Chase, MD.
Yvonne stared out of the limo at the old family home her mother had inherited. The place was like a museum. Or a tomb.
God, why were they coming here?
She knew why.
The historic home in Chevy Chase put them within driving distance of contacts in Washington that might help Douglas’ problems go away. Mom was also doing her best to transition both Dad and Douglas to living there full-time from their residence in New York.
What Yvonne really wanted to do was board a plane and head west. To her real home. Her little condo might not be much, and she didn’t spend the time there that she’d like, but it was hers. Away from family where she could breathe. There wouldn’t be nosey knocks and well meaning questions if she were there.
She’d been sick once during their trek home and it had been on the jet. Everyone had given her a wide berth since then, even Nolan. For which she was grateful.
There’d been a point when she’d wanted to undo her seatbelt and crawl into his lap. She couldn’t forget what it was like to be held by those impossibly strong arms of his. He could shoulder the weight of the world with biceps like that. Her little problems were nothing in comparison.
Yvonne wouldn’t allow herself to do that, but it didn’t stop her from wanting it.
“Come on, Vee.” Theodore patted her thigh.
She picked up her purse and slid down the padded bench. Her brothers were long gone inside the house by the time she stood and stretched.
Yvonne glanced to her right, at the black SUV their security team had followed them in.
Nolan was out already, head tilted back, looking up at the grand old house.
If she had given in, what would he do?
Her gut said he’d have held her. Or maybe that was her fantasy speaking. That was the same part who whispered that he’d still looked at her like a man who wanted a woman. But her head couldn’t help but burst that bubble. He might only want her because they’d slept together and now he knew she was rich. Again her gut said that wasn’t who Nolan was, but her insides were so scrambled she couldn’t truly trust herself.
There wasn’t any sense inviting problems before she had them, and right now her plate was overflowing.
She strode forward into the house in time to see her mother in a perfectly pink skirt and jacket ensemble throw her arms around Theodore and Douglas.
“Oh, my boys,” Mom exclaimed.
Dad stood to one side, hands in his pockets, watching his family with a gentle smile. Despite the expensive clothes and regular attentions of a barber who charged Yvonne’s rent an hour, Dad still had a few rough edges. It wasn’t anything overtly obvious, just hints of him that would never go away, no matter how much Mom tried to polish him up. Those were the parts of him Yvonne liked the best.
She stopped next to her father, watching Mom dote on Douglas, smoothing his hair and muttering about how unkept he looked.
For as long as Yvonne could remember, it had been like this. Mom had wanted boys, someone to carry on a family name. She’d have preferred for it to be her name, no doubt, or for the boys to choose to take up the old family crest of Grimaldi that had been lost to several generations of female descendants.
“Trip okay?” Dad asked her.
“Yes.”
“You get enough sleep?”
The innocent sounding question had barbs.
Yvonne felt the heat in her chest and neck rising.
She spent one ill-advised night out compared to all the nights Douglas or Theodore hadn’t even gone to bed. One night.
Feet thumped on the marble accentuated by the staccato tap tap tap of a pair of heels.
“These must be the people I should thank for bringing my children home.” Dad took a step forward, hand outstretched.
Yvonne glanced at Mom, who had an arm around Douglas, as though he were her little chick to be protected.
At Douglas’ age Yvonne had gone straight from college to working for the company. There had been expectations that she would work her way up the food chain. Douglas, on the other hand, got to do whatever he wanted. There was no assumption that he would join Yvonne and Theodore. No one expected anything of Douglas.
“Vee?”
“Hm?” Yvonne blinked up at Theodore.
“You still not feeling okay?” He kept a little distance between them.
“Sorry, jet lag.” She glanced after Dad leading the way into the house, everyone else following them.
“This isn’t going to go well,” Theodore muttered.
“What did I miss?”
“Those two want to talk about the security threat. You know what Mom’s going to do.”
Yvonne groaned and fell into step with her brother. She felt his gaze on her. Right now she wanted a shower and a change of clothes more than she wanted to sit on the sidelines for whatever this was going to be.
He grabbed her by the elbow, slowing their pace even more. “You could bow out. Go rest, you know?”
“And give Dad something else to add to my poor performance column? No, thanks.”
“Come on, he hasn’t used those forms since we graduated high school.” Theodore chuckled.
She didn’t share his amusement. In high school Dad had thought it a good idea to begin reviewing them like an employer might. The nights she’d lain awake stressed over living up to her father’s expectations were countless.
“I know,” she mumbled.
“Is he still giving you a hard time about Vegas?”
If Yvonne could have wished for the earth to open up and swallow her, she’d have done it now.
“You’re too perfect, Vee. You never do anything crazy. Do you blame him for remembering the one time you did something shocking?” Theodore grinned. He’d taken perverse joy in her appearance the next morning, even after Tabby had helped her present a more put together appearance. “Do that a few more times and he’ll willfully for
get all of them. You have to mess up a little now and then to keep the old man rooted in reality. Besides, you just make Doug and I look bad.”
She didn’t respond. What was the point? She’d tried before to explain to her brothers that they could get away with things she couldn’t because they were boys, now men. The rules that governed their lives were different and unfair.
“Here we go,” Theodore muttered.
They were the last to arrive as evident by the people sitting around the long table in what Mom liked to call the library. Dad had taken it over as his office and meeting area when they’d inherited the home.
Everyone was assembled.
Mom and Dad.
Theodore, Douglas and herself.
Grant and Melody.
Two family lawyers and one representing the company.
Yvonne wished she wasn’t on a first name basis with the last three.
She slid into an empty chair next to Melody across from her mother and brothers.
The lawyers at the other end of the table eyed the security team. The security team were focused on Dad, who was still looking at Douglas. It was clear that he took after Mom. The things Yvonne’s younger brother had gotten away with were not the sort of things that would have been tolerated, even from Theodore. Yvonne had long since given up understanding the imbalanced expectations of her family. Trying to figure that out as a child had hurt her fragile heart. She was wiser now.
Melody leaned forward, a pleasant smile on her face. She really was good at handling people. “Mr. Krieger, we’ve only spoken on the phone—”
“Call me Robert, please?” Dad sat back in his chair. His words were friendly, but he was looking at Melody as though she were a possible adversary.
Yvonne could feel the impending clash. It was like an accident happening in slow motion she couldn’t stop.
“Of course. I’d just like to say, on behalf of our team,” she glanced at Grant, “that we are taking your security very seriously.”
Grant didn’t smile and there was a decidedly frustrated air coming off him.
“And who do you answer to?” Dad picked up a pen and the hair on the back of Yvonne’s neck rose. “If I tell you that you’re fired, do you leave? Or do I not have that kind of power?”
Melody didn’t skip a beat. “We are here to serve the best interest of the family—”
Dangerously Involved Page 7
