Protecting Lulu (Global Protection Agency)

by Jeffries, J. M.

  She thought about what he said for a moment. “You mean use me as bait?” She rolled the idea around in her head.

  “If you want to catch a predator,” Ian said, a sympathetic look on his face, “you have to give him what he wants and wait for him to go after it.” .

  She tried not to squirm in her chair. “How do you give someone what he wants when he wants me dead?”

  “We put people in place,” Noah replied, “and you go about your life and when your stalker makes a move, we catch him, or her.”

  At least she wouldn’t be stuck in a cage being kept safe. She couldn’t simply put her life on hold. She had several charity events coming up that she helped organize. February sweeps were only a few weeks away and she filmed two talk shows a day, three days a week. She hadn’t missed fashion week in ten years. People’s livings depended on her. She had to get this done as quickly as possible. “Then that’s the option I choose.”

  For a second she thought she saw a glint of respect in Noah Callahan’s eyes. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or angry. He must have thought she was a real wimp. “Which of my dirty little secrets do you need to know?”

  “All of them,” Harrison said easily.

  The only secret she could think of at the moment was her stash of white chocolate truffles in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. Lulu sighed. “I have a schedule that would choke an elephant. I’m not dating anyone seriously.” She hadn’t had time to make any enemies that she could think of. “When you say total access to me what exactly does that mean?”

  “We are in your life until your stalker is behind bars, Ms. Bennington,” Noah replied.

  She didn’t bother to correct him about what to call her, he’d probably just scowl at her. This man did not want to be her friend. He was all about business. The rest of them, she’d have their life stories by dinner time. Noah would take a sledgehammer to crack. She was sure she had one somewhere. If not, she find a Home Depot and buy one. She wondered if they had a Home Depot in Manhattan. “Does that mean you’re going to be living with me?” A little tingle of excitement went up her spine. The thought of sharing personal space with Noah Callahan thrilled her in a way it shouldn’t have.

  “If we have to sleep on the stoop,” he said.

  She composed herself and smiled. “I have several spare rooms with beds even. Since you might have to take a bullet for me the least I can do is make sure you’re all comfortable.”

  Everyone laughed except Noah who simply studied her.

  Aiden leaned over. “Somebody is wearing their cranky panties today.”

  Lulu giggled. Aiden always knew the right thing to say to diffuse a situation. “You mean besides me.” Lulu stood up and went to the credenza. She and opened a door and grabbed a stack of yellow legal pads and pens, she handed them out. “If you have any meal preferences or allergies please let me know. I’ll have my butler go shopping.” She flashed them all a grin. “At least one person will be happy to see all of you.”

  “Who would that be, Ms. Bennington?” Noah inquired politely.

  “My housekeeper. She just loves to cook and feeding only me is boring, or so she tells me all the time.” She covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Oh, does that mean we have to put her in the suspect pool?”

  “No,” Noah said, his scowl deepening, “she could have poisoned you at any time.”

  “That’s good because she used to work for my aunt and I’ve known her since I was ten years old. She’s had plenty of time to ‘do me in’.”

  Noah’s long lashed eyes narrowed. Apparently he didn’t appreciate her sense of humor either. Good, he was going to have to put up with her and she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  For the first time today, she felt a bit more in control. Just the way she liked.

  Lulu’s house was a three story brownstone is the nice part of the city. Actually, the house was two brownstones converted into one large one. The street was tree-lined and tucked behind the brownstones was a tiny, vest-pocket park.

  The rich were different. Noah thought as he looked around the opulent bedroom, with carved wood furniture and plush carpeting. He hoisted his duffel bag onto a chair. The Bennington’s weren’t rich, they were wealthy. Ian, who was only rich, explained the difference. Ian had money, but the Benningtons could buy him a hundred times over. And rich people worked for wealthy people. Lulu Bennington definitely fell into the wealthy side of the equation.

  The door opened and Dante walked in with a dazed expression on his face. “There’s a pool in the basement. A swimming pool, right next to a fully loaded gym we can use anytime we want. This is a sweet set up.” He sat on the bed and bounced a little bit like a kid.

  Noah tilted his head. “Damn, kid, you sound like this is your first time off the farm.”

  At twenty-eight Dante was the youngest member of the team. He’d grown up dirt poor in Texas as the oldest of eight. He fought and scraped his way into the West Point defying incredible odds to make something of himself.

  “Irish, can we make this job last for the next ten years? We can fake it and make it look good.”

  Dante was the team joker. He could find the humor in everything.

  “Hell no. This place makes me nervous.” Noah glanced around at the bedroom. He lived a Spartan life and all this wealth made him want to run away.

  Dante grinned merrily. “I think it’s Lulu who makes you nervous.”

  True, but Noah wasn’t going to admit it. He’d die for every member of his team, but he was not going to give up his male dignity for anybody. “She’s just a woman, pretty much like every other one.”

  “No, she’s not. Even on her worst day, we’d never be in her league.”

  Lulu Bennington was class and he was lucky to be trash on a good day. “Is she going all rich bitch on you?”

  Dante averted his eyes looking almost embarrassed. “She’s really nice you know, classy.”

  Yeah, Noah called that right, the kid already had a crush on her. “She’s not your buddy.”

  “She’s not the enemy either,” Dante shot back.

  No, just a damn inconvenient, spoiled pain in the ass. “What did she say to Roman in the office?” Dante had a gift for languages and he was fluent in French.

  Dante blushed, but didn’t answer.

  “Come on, spill it.”

  Damn! What kind of voodoo did this woman have on his men who’d only met her a couple hours ago? “She said he had the face of an angel.”

  That startled him. “What?”

  “He does,” Dante said in a defensive tone.

  Noah leaned back on his heels. “Is there something you want to share with me?”

  “Roman is a good looking man.” Dante held up his hands in supplication. “I’m secure enough in my heterosexuality to admit to that.” He touched his chest with his fingertips. “If I wasn’t such a hottie myself, I’d be doing good getting his leftovers.”

  Looking at Roman, a person would never guess he could slit a guy’s throat and then sit down to eat his couscous. Noah had seen him do it. Noah made a mental note not to ask questions he really didn’t want to know the answers to. “I really shouldn’t have asked.”

  Dante shrugged. “Dude, you seem a little twisted about this gig. What’s up?”

  Noah scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m tired. Mexico took a lot out of me.” He could have done that job in his sleep.

  A knock sounded at the door and a voice announced that dinner was being served.

  Noah and his team had never had dinner with one of their clients before. He watched the entire scene, feeling strange. By the time the cheesecake and coffee had been served, Lulu Bennington had everyone’s life story except for his, but not for her lack of trying. She’d hinted, poked, and pried. Noah had firmly rejected her intrusive questioning, even as he watched her interacting with his team as if they had all been friends for years. He’d even learned a few things about his people he didn’t know. She was a
skilled interrogator. If she’d worked for the government, not one spy would be able to keep a secret from her. She didn’t even have to use force. She just smiled or giggled or batted those big Bambi brown eyes at a person and they would open a vein and be grateful. Who the hell would want to kill her? She was nice.

  Noah couldn’t sleep. He’d rarely had that problem. When his body was tired his brain shut down and his body rested, but not tonight. Maybe the bed was too comfortable. He’d never had a mattress that molded to his body as if it were made for him. Maybe he should try the floor, that’s what he was used to.

  His old man had forced him to sleep on the floor plenty of times. Once he even burned his mattress in the backyard in a drunken rage, after he’d given Noah a couple of cracked ribs. He’d slept that night, more because he passed out then for any other reason.

  Fuck this. He wasn’t going to think of the past. It accomplished nothing. He lived in the now. The past was painful. He’d already lived it and didn’t need to relive it. Rolling off the bed he grabbed his jeans and put them on. He found his shirt and shoes. He’d take a stroll around the house, do a bit of recon and start working on perimeter defense. That should calm his restless mind.

  He had exceptional night vision so he didn’t turn on any lights. As he descended the back stairs, he heard the sound of water boiling and someone moving about in the kitchen. Thinking he’d find Dante raiding the fridge, he eased silently down the last few steps, put his hand flat against the kitchen door and pushed it open. This museum of a house was extremely well maintained. Nothing squeaked or creaked.

  The door opened and he spotted Lulu standing at the stove, a silk kimono type robe wrapped around her luscious curves showing each one to advantage. Damn! Who named a classy woman like her ‘Lulu’? The name was ridiculous.

  The tea kettle whistled, steam rising in the air. Lulu opened the refrigerator door and leaned in. Noah let the door slowly fall back intending to leave her alone. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was spying on her—even though he was being paid a king’s ransom to do exactly that.

  “Come in, Mr. Callahan,” Lulu said in a brisk tone, “I was about to make myself a midnight snack.”

  Noah froze. How had she heard him?

  She closed the refrigerator door and turned to him holding a large peach in her hand.

  “Ms. Bennington, I didn’t mean--”

  “Stop making excuses. Please join me.” She smiled. “I don’t like to eat alone.”

  She gave him a seductive come-hither look that melted his resolve. She was vamping him. Truth be told, he kinda liked it. “Thank you.” He stepped into the kitchen, half intending to ask her how she knew he was there, but he didn’t.

  She reopened the fridge and grabbed another peach. “Tea?”

  Noah shook his head. “No thank you.”

  She laughed. “It won’t hurt your testosterone. I promise.”

  Now he was embarrassed. “I don’t like tea.”

  She busied herself getting plates, a knife, and turning off the kettle. Her movements were economical, but strangely sexy. He watched the red silky material of her kimono swish around her legs and it surprised him that she was barefooted. She seemed like the high heeled slipper type. The kind with the feathers.

  She poured boiling water into a tea pot and set the pot on the table. She sat down and quickly cut the peaches into slices, arranging them on the two plates and handing him one.

  She daintily lifted up one of the slices and took a bite. For a second a look of total ecstasy covered her face and she moaned. A bolt of need fired right down to his groin and he gritted his teeth. Then she sighed. The kind of sigh that was sensual and filled with need. She began to chew, her eyes closed and she sighed. Noah watched her as she chewed, swearing to God she damn near came. Hell, he just about came himself.

  She swallowed. “There’s nothing better in the world then a succulent peach.” She wiped a bit of juice from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

  Noah couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He just wanted to sit there watching her eat and jack off. Damn, damn, damn! When had he become such a freak? He had to get his mind off of her eating. “How did you know it was me standing outside?” He let his curiosity got the better of him.

  “I recognized your scent.”

  God, he hoped he didn’t smell bad and resisted the urge to check his armpits. “You smelled me?”

  “You have a very unique scent—woodsy with a hint of musk. It’s very pleasant.”

  Back in the day they’d go native to blend in and not smell like Americans, but this was the first time he heard of a civilian doing the same. “How did you learn to tell the difference between people’s smells?”

  She smiled at him. “Next year, I’m launching my perfume. When I decided to create my own perfume, I hired a nose to teach me the business. I’m not good enough to break down the entire process, but I’m not bad.”

  “A nose?” He had the image of a disembodied nose floating through the air.

  “People who have super sensitive scenting abilities. They are like human blood hounds. The perfume business is very complicated. It was quite an education.”

  “I can imagine.” Who knew people hired out their noses?

  She poured tea into a delicate china cup. “What’s your story Mr. Callahan?” Pursing her full lips she blew on the hot liquid and then took a dainty sip.

  Noah couldn’t take his eyes from her luscious mouth. For a couple of seconds he imagined those lips on his skin. “I don’t have one.”

  She gave a very unladylike snort. “Of course you do. Everybody does.”

  Noah lifted an eyebrow and hoped the look he gave her would make her stop prying into his life. “Why is having a story important?” Why the hell did she need to know it?

  She shrugged. “I just like to know these things. Beside I have to reveal all my secrets. I think it’s only fair I know a bit about you.”

  Noah shook his head marveling at her persistence. “Knowing your story means I keep you alive. You knowing my story is a waste of time.”

  She put her cup down with barely a sound. “Then tell me why you don’t like me? Have I done something to offend you?”

  For a second he was stunned at her bluntness. “I don’t know you.”

  “Nor do you really want to know me.”

  She’d hit that nail on the head. He didn’t want to like her. He wanted to see her as a job and nothing else. Keeping things on a business level made everything simple. Once the job was over, they’d go their separate ways. When they found the person stalking her, they’d catch him, and be gone the next hour, never to see each other again. “This is business, Ms. Bennington. I like keeping things simple and easy.”

  “You are not eating your peach.” She raised her cup and took a sip of tea.

  Even her scolding him sounded like an invitation to … stop going there. He picked up a slice and shoved it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He barely tasted it, but it did earn him an indulgent smile and for a moment he felt as if he’d slain a dragon for her.

  “Why?” she asked, her head tilted at him, a query in her sable eyes.

  More questions. “Why do you want to know?”

  She shrugged. “Occupational hazard. Wilder always tells me I’m nosy.”

  On one level he was flattered by her interest. Women like her didn’t even know men like him existed. “No comment.”

  “Just so you know answering a question with a question isn’t going to stop me. I’ve cracked my share of tough nuts.”

  She’d won. “Remaining detached allows me and my people to keep the focus on the job which is keeping you safe.”

  Now she raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “That precludes us from being on friendly terms?”

  “Are you friends with everyone who works for you?” Noah shot back.

  She gave him a little laugh. “If I don’t like you, you don’t work for me.”

  He consider
ed her words and realized the same was true for him. This was the first time in his entire working life that everyone he worked with he considered a friend. In the military a person got stuck with whoever they got stuck with. “That works for you?”

  “Yes it does. My job is about intimacy. If I were making missile guidance systems, I’d want the best people possible, regardless of whether I liked them or not. Making bombs is not a chatty, friendly business. Enticing a woman to read your magazine, watch your show, or reveal their secrets requires a certain level of trust that is based on emotions and intimacy.”

  He ate another slice of peach and took the time to taste it. Damn if it wasn’t the best peach he’d ever eaten. Who knew a peach this sweet could be found in the middle of January in New York. Wealthy people even got better fruit. “I can see that.”

  “So you need to tell me your story.” She smiled, resting her chin on her fist, and leaned forward, a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

  This woman just didn’t quit and he didn’t know whether to be scared shitless or admire her. “How about we trade?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure you already have a big juicy file on everything that is Lulu Bennington.”

  “Most of it,” he conceded. Now he just had to make time to read it. “Did your parents really name you Lulu?”

  “Actually it’s Lucinda.”

  Now that was a classy, elegant name. He’d never met a Lucinda before. Not that he’d ever met a Lulu either. “How did you get the name Lulu?”

  “Wilder stuttered as a child. He couldn’t say Lucinda. He eventually overcame his stutter, but Lulu sort of stuck. Besides, I like it.”

  He liked Lucinda better.

  “Why do you insist on calling me Ms. Bennington?”

  “That’s how I need to think of you. Besides you call me Mr. Callahan.”

  “I get the feeling you don’t want me calling you Noah, although it’s a very good name. Strong, honorable, noble. I think it suits you.”

  He’d never thought about his name in those terms. “Thank you.”