In the elevator, both their arms filled with clothes, Ryleigh came to the realization that she didn’t own a standard suitcase. “Do you think it would be all right if I carried these in my duffel bags?”
“No.” He chuckled on the word. “I’ve already taken care of that.”
When she opened the door to her room, she practically tripped over the four duffel bags sitting on the floor. “Alex, I’m so sorry. I haven’t had time to unpack.”
“And you still don’t have time.” Her new boss deftly wound his way through the maze of nondescript black bags and hung the dresses in the closet.
Ryleigh looked around the disaster of a room trying to decide where to start when a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
Before she could move to open it, Alex already had. Garrett stood with multiple designer bags hanging from his arms and a petite woman in her mid-fifties behind him, practically pushing the hulk of a man through the door.
She can’t be Hadley already. No one can shop that fast.
“Move your big butt, Garrett.” The woman, who couldn’t be five feet two inches tall, commanded the men around like a drill sergeant. Before Ryleigh knew it, the suitcases were open on the bed and the woman was carefully folding Ryleigh’s clothing selections. “Hello there. You must be Ryleigh. I’m Johanna, Wyatt’s mother.” She looked up at the two men then waved her arms in the air. “Shoo. We don’t need an audience, and I’m sure the two of you have more important things to do than stand there and watch us pack.” She tapped the small gold watch on her wrist. “We don’t have much time. Alex, is the limousine ready?”
The corners of her new boss’s mouth kicked up. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure it is.” He looked at Garrett for confirmation. The big man nodded slowly.
“Alex, will you please check and see if the man from Tiffany’s is here, yet. You’re going to have to sign for that jewelry.” Under her breath she mumbled, “These men. What would they ever do without me?” Then she looked at Ryleigh and announced, “They’re not used to working with women. My Wyatt would have sent you off without the appropriate jewelry. If you are expected to be the BFF of a billionaire’s wife, then you have to look like you’re worth a billion dollars, too.” She shook her head. “Men. They just don’t understand these things.”
Ryleigh hadn’t thought about jewelry, either. Hers usually consisted of a big black military watch that could be used for scuba diving or jumping out of perfectly good aircraft. On the rare occasion she went out with the girls, she changed to her Timex.
Alex looked apologetic as he said, “I’m sorry, but I have to leave in order to catch my plane.” He glanced at her personal bags then added, “Your guns won’t be a problem since you’re flying on Duke’s private jet.” He stared at her for a long minute. “Be careful, Ryleigh, this threat is real. I wouldn’t send you if I thought you couldn’t handle it.”
Ryleigh prayed silently that he was right.
Chapter 3
“So, you’re relatively sure these threats have nothing to do with any upcoming business deal, Mr. Wainwright?” Blake asked across the glossy burl table where each man rested a crystal low ball glass of the finest scotch he’d ever tasted.
“Don’t you think you should call me Duke since you’re supposed to be my old college buddy?”
“I didn’t want to be presumptive, but it’s on the long list of items we need to cover before we land on Aragon Island.” They’d reached cruising altitude and the pretty flight attendant had taken their lunch orders. “I agree, Duke.” He tested the word. He could use his client’s first name to pull off this assignment. “Call me Blake.”
At the sound of laughter, both men glanced across the aisle. “I was afraid Ella wouldn’t go along with this plan,” Duke noted. “But Ryleigh seems to have put her at ease.”
“Yeah, she’s good at that.” Blake was glad someone was at ease with his partner. His protective senses were beyond high alert. He felt this insatiable need to shield Ryleigh even more now that he knew his clients were truly in danger. Alex had been clear about the threat to Duke and Ella. Someone wanted them dead. That meant Ryleigh could be in the line of fire simply by her proximity to the couple, and he had to protect them all. By himself. Sure, Ryleigh had been in the Army and had basic training, but nothing as extensive as he’d gotten in the Special Forces. Blake had hours and hours of personal protection classes…and firsthand experience.
Once again, he wished Alex and Wyatt would have allowed him to bring his standard overseas team of men. He couldn’t be in two places at once, so they would all have to stay together everywhere they went. So much for alone time with Ryleigh and for getting her back into his life.
Refocusing the conversation, and returning to his list, Blake mentioned, “I haven’t seen the schedule for this trip. Who are you meeting with first and where?”
One side of Duke’s mouth kicked up. “There is no schedule, and there are no meetings.”
What the hell? Every trip Blake had taken with the man, he’d been booked back to back with appointments.
“Ella’s insistence,” Duke answered Blake’s unasked question and stared at the beautiful blonde three feet away. Finally, his client tore his gaze from his wife and shifted in his seat. “I’ve spent a lot of time learning every detail of my family’s company, working my way up literally from the mail room.” He grinned. “Dad gave me my first job there when I was in high school, just like my grandfather had done with him.”
Duke leaned back into the soft leather recliner. “I don’t know if you are aware of this, but Wainwrights were one of the first families to immigrate to the United States from England. They quickly settled into New York City and began their import-export business. We’re still one of the top-rated logistics companies in the world.” He grinned and looked down at the half-full, heavily-leaded glass that caught the sunlight through the windows and shot dots of rainbows around the luxurious jet cabin. “My grandfather regretted we didn’t make anything, except money. I think he would have preferred that we build something. Anything.” A warm smile crossed the man’s face, making him look his real age of thirty-three rather than the scowling fortyish hard businessman.
Only a few years older than Blake, Duke’s worry lines were deeper, his hazel eyes always seemed constantly tired, and the worries of the world appeared to rest on his shoulders alone. The man kept a schedule that started at six in the morning and often ended near midnight. At least that’s what it had been when Blake had traveled with him before in terrible places like central Africa where today’s coup could be usurped by tomorrow’s guerilla attack. Guarding the billionaire was a twenty-four-seven job. Blake and his team would return exhausted from days of hypervigilance. He knew it was no different for Duke who was so well aware of the danger he had hired Guardian Security. Blake turned back and tuned into Duke’s story.
“Gramps built a woodshop in one of the garage bays at the house in the Hamptons. He’d learned to make pens and bowls from fancy wood he collected all over the world.” Duke pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his sports coat and rolled it in his fingers, lovingly caressing it, and then handed it to Blake.
Yep. It was pretty wood, some very dark while other parts were quite light, but that was the extent of Blake’s appreciation. It was a pen. Guardian provided them by the hundreds with their logo and phone number for clients. Refrigerator magnets, too.
“This one is made from Indonesian ebony, one of the hardest woods in the world,” Duke explained.
Okay, add those facts to Blake’s growing knowledge of woodcraft. But none of this brought him closer to who wanted to kill Duke.
Like a good employee, he smiled and listened to the man who paid the bills. “Very nice.” Blake handed the pen carefully back to Duke, giving it the respect a revered grandfather’s gift deserved. “Did he teach you how to make things?”
“He did.” Duke’s smile was self-deprecating. “At least he tried. I was terrible at it. Gramps said I had n
o patience. I’d press too hard on the chisel and the wood would break, or I’d get a gouge where there wasn’t supposed to be one.” He looked out the oval window at the blazing sun and billowing clouds below. “I wish he were here to teach me now.”
“I’m sorry,” Blake offered by way of condolences.
With an earnest look on his face, Duke turned back to Blake. “He wanted to spend his retirement in his woodshop, filling his homes with things he’d made with his own hands.” He smiled. “Grams would have loved that, too. But they never got to enjoy retired life together.”
Hating to bring back bad memories, Blake asked anyway, “What happened?”
“Gramps had a heart attack sitting behind his desk while working late one night.” Duke watched his hands roll the scotch glass from palms to finger tips. “My dad found him, but it was too late.”
His resolute gaze flew to meet Blake’s. “I don’t want to walk into my father’s office and find him slumped over his desk. I want to give my mom and dad the retirement together they deserve. They were wonderful parents when we were kids. They had plenty of money to ship us off to boarding school, or leave us with nannies, but they didn’t. Neither Dad nor Mom would hear of it.” A smile sliced across Duke’s face. “I think they liked being parents to my sister and me. They’d actually play with us, race us across Sheep Meadow in Central Park, ride bikes all over New York, and we all traveled with Dad as often as possible. I also think they enjoyed rubbing our family adventures in the faces of their friends who couldn’t be bothered to raise their own children.”
Duke glanced over at the women who were completely engrossed in their conversation. “That’s the kind of father I want to be.” Returning his gaze to Blake, Duke admitted, “Mom wants to travel more. She’s never been to Australia or China. Even though Dad’s only fifty-six, I think he’s ready to retire. The only way he’ll turn the company over to me is if I prove to him I can handle it. That means I work my ass off and continue to expand the business.”
Blake thought about it for a moment, hesitant to ask such a personal question. “So…is this make-a-baby week?”
“I wish.” Duke’s answer was quiet as his gaze wandered across the aisle to his wife. “Right now she’s not even talking to me.” He sighed heavily. “I spent the morning on the phone with my sister, who is the company’s chief operating officer, making sure everything I put into place would get handled while I was gone. Ella accused me of talking to my sister more than I talk to her.” With two fingers the man rubbed the spot between his closed eyes. With a sigh, he admitted, “She’s right.”
Blake closely watched the tired and torn man across the table. So much self-imposed responsibility rested on his young shoulders. When Duke raised his head, he looked longingly at his wife. “Ella.” He quietly choked out her name. “She’s the world to me.” His eyes were swimming when they met Blake’s. “I’m so afraid I’m going to lose her.”
Blake knew exactly what that loss felt like. The other woman across the aisle had taken his heart with her when she’d left him four years ago. He shook off those regrets and returned his attention to the man he’d take a bullet for.
Duke swallowed hard. “This whole trip was her idea. She’d planned it for months.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “Indulgences isn’t like most resorts. You can’t just call, drop the Wainwright name and get the presidential suite. No, you make reservations months in advance. They tell you when you can arrive and how many days you may stay.”
That kind of control poked at Blake. “Is it that popular?” Now he was worried that there may be thousands of people there to research and vet.
“No, it’s that exclusive.” Duke shrugged. “As I understand it, it’s not a playground for the rich and bored to be seen while in hiding. It’s a place where people, who can afford it, go to relax and get away from the rat race. No phones are permitted, and there aren’t any televisions, even in the bar. Ella tells me it’s all about getting in touch with each other again.”
What the fuck? No phones? If they even considered taking away Blake’s satellite phone, he’d be breaking someone’s bones. He was required to check in regularly with Guardian’s Operations Center. And no TV? How could he watch the Giants game on Monday night? Immediately upon landing, he’d talk to the head of security. The man was already on his list.
The women chose that moment to rise.
“We’re going to the bedroom to change into resort clothes.” Ella moved aside and Blake caught Ryleigh stretching. She’d taken off her suit jacket and the loose-fitting blouse pulled tight over rounded breasts.
His mouth watered to taste them again and suck those dark nipples into peaks. Then he’d work his way down her body with open mouthed kisses. He wondered if she still shaved her dark curls in a V or if she’d gone totally Brazilian, as women called it. Personally, Blake didn’t like the new fad of shaving every hair off their sex.
“Everything going okay here?” Ryleigh asked as she passed Blake.
“Fine. You?” He managed to answer.
Her smile rocked him back into the thickly padded chair while his half-aroused cock stood up and took notice. Thank God it was hidden by the table.
“Excellent.” Ryleigh bent over to grab her jacket from the far side of her seat. “We’re exchanging life stories, establishing a solid rapport as long-time friends.”
He nodded. It was all he could do. The sight of her black slacks hugging her perfectly rounded ass had brought an onslaught of memories involving those cheeks, bared to him, just before he pushed into her finding a heaven he’d only known with that woman. Speech seemed beyond his current capabilities.
“See you in a few,” she threw over her shoulder as she made her way toward the back.
Blake watched the casual and very friendly interaction of the two women. Their timely disappearance was the perfect opening for the more difficult questions on the list. His eyes fixed on Duke’s as he watched for the lie. “What about other women?”
Confusion was chased away by anger. “I don’t cheat,” Duke sneered through clenched teeth. “I haven’t been with another woman since the day I met Ella.” He then corrected himself, “Probably a week or so before that.”
“Okay, and how long ago was that?” Blake needed to establish a timeline.
“We’ve been married nearly three years.” Duke smiled. “I chased her for about six months before she finally said yes.”
“And who were you dating before then?” Blake knew women could hold grudges and hopes for a long time. His high school sweetheart still hit on him every time he went home to St. Louis, but he had no hankering to become husband number three for her.
Duke chuckled. “No one, regularly. I was at a function with Ella’s college roommate, Karen Jacobson, the night we met.”
“How long had you been dating her?” Blake prodded.
“I’ve known Karen all my life. We ran in the same social circles since we were kids.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t exactly say that we had ever dated. Not for the first time, we were both expected at this fundraiser and decided to go together rather than alone. She used to get hit on a lot and felt uncomfortable, so I’d take pity and accompany her to events sometimes.” He glanced toward the back at the closed door. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure which team she played for. Don’t get me wrong, she’s absolutely beautiful, but the woman is tough as nails. When we were in high school, she broke her arm playing football with us in Central Park and never cried. She took karate and some kind of street fighting martial arts for years and could whip any man’s ass. I think she tried to be the son her father never had.”
The men silenced as their lunch was delivered, but as soon as the flight attendant was gone, Duke continued. “Karen’s parents were the opposite of mine. They’d dumped her at boarding school when she was about five, nannies before that. Her mother was a model and trophy wife number three or four for her father. He and my dad were business associates, maybe even fraternity brothers. Kare
n has been around since we were kids.”
Interrupting, the flight attendant asked, “Would you like something else to drink with your meal or shall I refresh your scotch?” She glanced at the empty seats then at the back of the plane. “I’ve kept the ladies’ meals warm and will serve them when they return.”
“I’ll have water please.” Duke looked at Blake expectantly.
“Same for me,” Blake responded. Once she left, he continued his inquisition. “Was Karen okay with you dating her roommate?”
Duke picked up his turkey and avocado Panini. “Oh, hell yes. She and I were never more than friends. Matter of fact, she was the maid of honor at our wedding.”
Blake swallowed the bite of delicious Italian sandwich he’d ordered and pushed on. “Before your relationship with Karen—”
“Karen and I were never together,” Duke insisted. “We never even dated. I certainly never touched her…sexually. Hell, I never even kissed her.” As though a deep forgotten memory flashed to the surface, he corrected, “Well, there was that one kiss when we were in high school. She needed a date for homecoming at her boarding school since she was in the court and had just broken up with her boyfriend. Afterward, I brought her to her parents’ home in the city so she could get away the rest of the weekend. But that was only a kiss good night. We were friends, that’s all.”
Message received. “Any idea where she is now?”
Duke shrugged. “Last I heard, she was hiking in Peru with some friends from England. Some kind of a paranormal quest.”
More money than brains, Blake concluded. “Moving on, did you have any long-term relationships before Ella that may have ended badly?”
Duke ate thoughtfully before answering. “A few. My high school sweetheart wasn’t happy when I called it quits and went to Yale. She still had another year before college, and I wanted to…be available to enjoy college.” He sipped his water. “I’m sure she got over me. She’s married to a finance guy and they have two kids.” With a forkful of fruit half way to his mouth, Duke studied Blake. “Why are you asking me about the women I’ve dated?”
Double Jeopardy Page 3