Justin flipped his phone in his hands. Gabriel might be free, but he doubted it. For a retired man, Gabriel kept his fingers in just about everything going on at Guardian. No, this phone call could wait until he got back to the hotel, or even later.
Making sure to fasten his seatbelt, Justin started the car and pulled out, heading toward Elizabeth Quay. His mind returned to the mission he was supposed to have conducted tonight. Guardian would know soon enough if the specialist who copied the hard drive was friend or foe. Justin had a few more days in Perth before he had to get back to the insanity of his world. If Guardian wanted him to take another shot at it, he could send one of the entourage currently traveling with him to convey his desires to the construction, design and engineering teams. More than likely, his representative would be Danielle. Dani had made herself indispensable. Among other things, she was his right hand in all acquisition matters. Her sharp mind and intuition were only a couple of her assets he coveted. The woman was his cornerstone in his day-to-day business, and he trusted her—a statement he didn’t make lightly. He trusted only a handful of people.
Justin drove the nearly deserted streets and relaxed. Until Guardian told him otherwise, he was personally overseeing the restaurant design in the newly acquired building overlooking Elizabeth Quay. The location was prime for development. The construction company that had started the venture had encountered a financial backing issue. His acquisitions team had been looking for a suitable property in Australia, in either Sydney or Perth, for months. When Danielle’s team discovered the opportunity, Justin swooped in, bailed the company out, and his business machine started planning his fifteenth restaurant. He wanted to showcase Australian wines and cuisine while adding a distinct European flair. The chef he wanted was currently working in London, but he was a native Australian. Justin conceded to himself that he might be heading to London next if the phone calls and video conferencing couldn’t entice Chef Melvin Williams to agree to his very generous terms.
Justin glanced at the rear-view mirror, his gaze flicking over his appearance. The smile on his face wasn’t a surprise. He'd enjoyed tonight. For him, everything revolved around the next thrill. He and his therapist continued to work on that. He laughed out loud. Hell, he was an addict to the feeling of the pound of adrenaline when the anticipation of intense danger spiked, or when he’d mastered something like speeding around a high banked track in a car, going insane speeds…whatever it took to get his blood screaming through his veins, he wanted it. Fuck, he needed it. The thrill of near destruction obsessed him. His therapist had called it a “specter of insanity” after he’d described bungee jumping off the Bloukrans Bridge in South Africa. Two-hundred- sixteen-meters of free falling adrenaline rushing through his body. The first fall was amazing, but the moments that fascinated Justin were the ones when the bungee recoiled, pulling him back up and then suspended him, weightless, unfettered, before he dropped again. That perfect sensation of risking everything, and knowing you’d won, was better than any drug on the planet.
He pulled into the valet station at the hotel and hopped out of his car, tossing the keys to the young woman who ran out from the glass enclosure. She was the same one who’d retrieved his car hours earlier.
“Good morning, Mr. King. Will you need it again this morning?”
“No, I have a car service for later. You can put it away for the day.” He handed her a tip large enough to make her do a double take. Justin winked and smiled. He made it inside and up to his room in minimal time, with good reason—nobody else was awake. The hotel keycard flicked across the sensor and unlocked the door to his suite. He pulled off his t-shirt and toed off his shoes before he grabbed his computer and flopped down on the sofa. He powered up the computer and logged into his work email letting the inbox populate.
He grabbed his phone and hit the favorites, calling his brother’s number.
“Good Afternoon, Mr. King. Please stand by while we locate your brother.” The female voice at the switchboard never changed.
He didn’t bother to respond; the woman was gone before he assigned meaning to her words. The efficiency of Guardian baffled him. It had to be the military background of the employees. Lord knew his own organization was extremely effective, but the precision Guardian had obtained was eerie. Justin had never been in the military and had no desire to duplicate his brothers’ career choices.
He and Jared were the only two of the five brothers who chose other paths. Of course, only Jason knew about his ‘other’ job, so he got a load of crap from his big, bad, Alpha snake-eater type brothers. If they only knew. He sighed. It was yet another reason he tended to avoid any family get-togethers. He'd made a pointed effort to avoid being around his family for so long declining invitations was the norm now.
“Justin, how are things?” Jason’s gravelly voice pulled him out of his musings.
“Not so good. I’m afraid I’m under the weather.” The code phrase he’d never uttered before brought silence from Jason’s end of the connection.
“Really? Do you need a doctor?”
In other words, were you made? “Nah, I think I caught something from someone else. Which is strange because I can guarantee you I don’t think anyone else wants to catch this crud.” Justin cleared his throat. He didn’t like the taste of telling his brother someone had beat him to the target.
“Someone else got sick first?”
“Yeah, some woman.” Justin picked at the hem of his athletic shorts.
“Ha. Sucks to be you. Do you have meetings all day?”
“Yeah, no rest for the wicked.”
“You’re not wicked, just slightly weird, but we love you anyway. You should get some rest. I’m sure you’ll be fine. A bug like this isn’t easy to figure out, but give it some time. I’m sure between the two of us we can figure out a remedy.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be down here for a couple more days, and then depending on several factors, I’ll either be flying to London or heading back to New York."
There was a long pause on the line before Jason asked... because he always asked, "How are you, besides the cold?" Justin couldn't miss the concern. It was always there.
"Fine." It was his standard answer. He was successful and damn good at the night job. What else was there? Justin pushed away his brother's concern, hell, his family’s concern. He pushed away everyone, well almost. It was a gift or a curse.
"It's been a long time since we've seen you." Of all his siblings he was closest to Jason and maybe Jade, but one never knew with that one. She was...unique.
"You know how it goes. Life is busy."
"Bullshit. You know I worry about you. I know about addictions. Mine were chemical, yours are, hell, they're batshit crazy, but you've pushed us all away. You take risks that I'd never let any of my people take. If we didn't need your skill set, I'd fire you."
"You can't fire me. Gabriel hired me, and my agreement is with him." They'd had this conversation before. Same song different verse.
"Do you have anyone? A friend, someone constant in your life?"
Justin stared off into space at his brother's question. Yes, he had Danielle. She was his constant, but he couldn't walk down that path because if he did, he'd end up driving her away, too. It was inevitable. He was a self-labeled thrill seeker more interested in the next adrenaline spike than a relationship. He couldn't give the women he dated what they wanted because, simply stated, he didn't want the same thing. A wife and two point five kids would suffocate him.
"Justin?"
"What? Oh, right. I'm good. No need to worry about me." He knew his words sounded as fake as they were. The problem was, he didn't really care. He kept his family out of his life and out of his business except for the most necessary of occasions. It had been different, to a degree, before his dad's murder, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. He didn't fit in with his brothers growing up. His interests were vastly different than theirs. Hell, it seemed like the person he was then and the one he was
now were totally different entities. The only similarities were the scars they carried.
“You know I'll always worry about you. I hope you feel better. Give me a call before you go to your meetings and let me know how you’re doing.”
“Can do. Take care.” Justin glanced at his tablet and accessed his appointment calendar to set the alarm to activate and remind him to call Jason. Knowing himself, he didn’t doubt he’d fall headfirst into work and forget to call his brother. He’d forgotten to do so many times.
“Don’t forget to set a reminder. Talk with you soon.” Jason's last-second dig about setting a reminder was nothing new.
Justin threw the disconnected device to the end of the couch. He glanced at over one hundred new emails since he’d last logged off. His executive assistant, Max, would go through the inbox when he woke up this morning and handle most of them, flagging only those that he needed to read. Max kept him from drowning in an ocean of emails. Justin scrolled through the notifications stopping when he noticed Danielle’s name. She’d sent him an email last night about an hour before he left for the target’s location. He popped it open and nodded at the content. The facts and figures, spreadsheets and breakdowns, were exactly what he needed to redirect his attention from last night’s assignment. But first...he slid the laptop onto the sofa table and headed for a shower. Justin changed direction a second before he hit the bathroom door. Coffee…he needed coffee and gallons of it. He pulled out the room service menu and ordered coffee to be sent up ASAP and two breakfasts to be delivered at seven. He and Danielle had a standing breakfast meeting. The amount of work that could be done over the morning meal never ceased to amaze him. It didn't hurt that he genuinely enjoyed Danielle’s company. Probably more than he should. Whatever, it was just business with them. He’d kept it that way. Unfortunately. Justin shook the thoughts out of his head and scratched his chest. He wrinkled his nose at his own stench. Yep, time to head to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Chapter 2
Danielle Grant hung her head under the pulsing spray. The pressure of the jetted water loosened the tightness from her muscles, but nothing could clear the mountains of information careening around in her mind. She’d never been so ill-prepared for one of her morning meetings. The JK Holdings’ executives, basically she and Justin King, were making the final decisions on vendors, allocations of space, and most importantly the remodel of the three-story restaurant that would be the crowning jewel atop a thirty-story bastion of all things luxurious. Even the lower level office space was going to cost an arm and a leg to rent, but those with money were flocking to the meetings tomorrow to sign leases on the highly sought after real estate.
The hot water pounded down on her back. The steam and white noise was a needed buffer that allowed her to strip the day into the sequences of meetings that she would need to tackle. She was with Justin King for the majority of the day, not that Justin was a hardship. Danielle allowed herself a small smile as she braced her hands against the shower wall. The man was gorgeous, and most likely oblivious to the fact that she existed, outside her role as his acquisition manager. Over the years she'd watched him date a host of beautiful women—models, businesswomen, lawyers, and the latest, an investigative reporter. All were beautiful, undeniably successful women, and all were history. Not that Danielle was keeping track...okay, so she watched and maybe even secretly cheered each time Justin told her that he was no longer seeing the flavor of the month. Was she harboring a crush on her boss? Oh, heck yeah. Could she do anything about it? Nope. That wasn't going to happen. Through their unique breakfast meetings and random impromptu lunch and dinner meetings, she probably knew Justin better than anyone in the company, much to his assistant's chagrin. Justin kept his personal and professional life distinct and separate. She had nothing to offer him to make him jump that line. So, he dated and she...well, she amused herself with “what-ifs”. What was the use trying to have any real relationships when she ended up comparing the men she went out with to Justin? She'd had a couple strings of quasi-serious dates, but she attributed those to the fact she was the daughter of an influential and wealthy man. It had become uncomfortably clear that her dates were men who wanted what a connection to her could bring them rather than what she, Danielle, was willing to offer…which admittedly wasn’t much. She rolled her shoulders under the water and reached for her shampoo.
When she’d first been asked to work for JK Holdings, she’d agreed immediately. It was a small up-and-coming company with a dynamic, magnetic CEO. Justin King had the Midas touch, and even though her father had almost forbidden her to work for such a small start-up, the new diploma on her wall from Brown gave her the credentials and the confidence to make the leap. So, leap she did. Four years later, JK Holdings had businesses around the world, and the corporation’s growth rate had quadrupled.
Danielle rinsed her hair and grabbed her conditioner. She loved what she was doing. In her capacity, she had carte blanche to travel to any country and scout new venues for the expansion of JK Holdings' empire, and the company was most definitely an empire. What a ride. Justin King had started with fine dining restaurants, then acquired office buildings. He had the foresight to franchise three of his more profitable restaurants, but nobody expected the explosively successful franchises currently rolling out in seven countries and twenty-seven of the fifty states. He then expanded his real estate holdings into thriving and developing areas in the healthiest, most vibrant cities around the world. Currently, Danielle managed over six hundred million dollars in real estate assets. She had no idea how much Justin King's net worth was or what divine power had blessed his meteoric rise as the emperor of the haute cuisine movement, but there was no disputing the fact that anything Justin King touched turned to pure, unadulterated profit.
Jet lag from the flight to Australia clung to her tenaciously. Danielle groaned and coughed. She also seemed to have brought a bug with her from the States. To say her night had been unpleasant, well, that was an understatement. The chills that ran through her now weren’t from the air conditioning being set too low. With the multitude of tasks that she needed to accomplish, there was no way she could crawl into that soft, warm bed and sleep all day…no matter how much her body demanded she do just that. Danielle turned off the water and stiffened her spine. She’d suck it up so she could get the day’s meetings and mandatory accomplishments out of the way. Tomorrow she could be sick. Not today.
Fifteen minutes later, with her make-up on and her freshly washed and dried hair pulled back into a tight dark brown ponytail, Danielle felt almost human. She glanced at her skin's pallor in the mirror and grabbed her contour brush…but no, any more and she’d look like a circus clown. She’d just rock the lack of color like it was a fashion statement. Danielle snorted…then coughed…oh, just freaking great. She padded into the bedroom and stepped into a light green, wrap-around dress. Normally, she would wear the thin cashmere dress to accent her green eyes and dark brown hair, but today she wore it because it was the warmest thing she'd brought with her. She wrapped a white angora scarf around her neck in a loose cowl and hoped the contrast of the white against her skin would give her some semblance of color. She grabbed her briefcase and stuffed the reports, contracts, and documentation she would need into the side pockets. The external hard drive lay beside her purse where she’d dumped it last night. The documents she'd downloaded onto them couldn't be left in the hotel room, so she scooped them up and put them in the small side compartment within her computer bag before zipping the entire mess closed.
Danielle searched her purse for the keycard to her room, and when she couldn’t find it, she started a pat down of the clothes she wore last night. The damn thing had to be here. She’d gotten in the door, hadn't she? Five minutes later she found it…in the side pocket of her purse. God, today was not going to be a good day.
She replaced the card, zipped the compartment closed and grabbed her briefcase as she headed out the door. Two rooms down, she knocked on Justin
’s door. The smile on his face when he opened the door never failed to take her breath away. This morning his crisp white linen shirt wasn’t buttoned, and his hair was uncombed. The image could stop traffic; it definitely stopped her heart. Her eyes dropped to the light dusting of black hair on his very nicely defined chest. It was the most casual she'd seen her boss in a very long time.
He stepped back from the door and extended a hand toward the sitting area. “Hi. Sorry. I got distracted reading the reports you sent over, and I’m running a little behind. Breakfast is set up. I’ll be right in. Pour me a cup of coffee, would you?”
“Sure.” She dropped her purse and computer satchel onto the couch and headed to a small bistro table already set up. She poured herself a cup of coffee, added a packet of sugar and a healthy drop of cream. The hot fluid felt wonderful against her sore throat. Damn it, she wasn’t about to admit she was sick. Especially not day one on a trip. The front end was when Justin relied on her, even though the majority of the things on the agenda today weren’t technically her job. It could be said that none of it was her job, but somewhere along the line Justin had started depending on her, and she was needed—even though the six-feet-five-inches of sexy perfection in the next room didn’t even know she was alive. Well, that wasn’t true. He counted on her for her business acumen. The problem was she wanted to be so much more.
She set her cup down and poured Justin’s coffee, adding honey and cream. She was hopeless. She knew how he took his coffee, knew that he switched to water at ten every morning and drank at least eight bottles of spring water every day. She knew he was a fresh food fanatic and rarely had more than one drink of alcohol at any social event. She was with him while he studied and passed his master sommelier tests in Colorado. The feat was one very few could master. In fact, the organization allowed you to fail one of the portions and retest during the next testing cycle. It was expected that a person would fail. Justin didn’t have to retest. He passed each of the three phases the first time and never looked back.
Justin Page 2