He and Guy had teased him ruthlessly about it, of course, because they’d formed a pact in college to remain bachelors, had even come up with three hard and fast rules to resist the possible temptation of falling in love. One, never let a woman eat off your plate. Two, never spend the whole night with her and three, after the third date, cut her loose.
Jamie had succumbed to all three a few months ago, and typical of a newly shackled man, was happily imagining he and Guy’s downfall as well. “You’ll see,” he’d told them. “You pitying bastards think you’ve got it all worked out. You don’t. When the right woman comes along, she’s gonna blow those rules outta the water and you’re not going to know what’s hit you. Believe me, I know,” he predicted direly.
He couldn’t speak for Guy, of course, but Payne knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there wasn’t a woman alive who could knock him so far off his game he’d marry her. He wasn’t so arrogant to think that he might never be tempted into falling in love--he wouldn’t tempt fate by even thinking something like that--but he knew himself and his own resolve well enough to know that he damned sure wasn’t going to permanently attach himself in front of God and witnesses and, most importantly, the Court to one.
Frankly, he had better sense.
Granted marriage definitely seemed to be suiting Jamie, but he and Jamie were two completely different people. Despite Jamie’s previous stint in serial dating, Payne had always detected a bit of a longing for a family in Jamie.
When Danny, their good friend and comrade, had died in their last covert mission for Uncle Sam, things had only worsened for Jamie. Understandably, of course, considering that Danny had taken his last breath in Jamie’s arms. He and Guy hadn’t known that unfortunate tidbit until recently, but once they’d found it out many of the things that Jamie had done--withdrawing from them, going through girls like air--had begun to make sense.
That was the only thing about Danny’s death that made any sense, though, Payne thought as a familiar pang of loss squeezed his chest. Getting out of the military had become a mission in and of its self after that had happened, which was why they’d all landed themselves in Garrett’s debt to start with. They’d been provoked into a barroom brawl--off-base, no less--by an arrogant ass who’d mouthed off about their fallen friend. The incident could have held up their clearance papers indefinitely, but Garrett had found a way to push them through.
His price, of course, had been the favors.
Payne released a small breath. Which was why he now found himself packed and ready to go to Gettysburg in search of a freaking pocket watch Garrett a.) only thought existed and b.) apparently wanted bad enough to send him to get it. Civil war buff, hell--the man was obsessed.
And he was a former Ranger, not an errand boy, but his word was his word. Growing up in an unstable home where he heard more lies than the truth, Payne valued honesty and structure above all else. Did he like Garrett’s request? No. But it didn’t change the fact that he owed him.
Payne shouldered his hanging bag, grabbed his laptop case and turned to face Guy. “Call me if anything comes up.”
“We’ll be fine,” Guy assured him. “Jamie and Audrey are flying in tomorrow.”
Since Audrey’s season at Unwind--her de-stressing camp for burned out exec’s, harried mothers and the like--was officially over, she and Jamie were going to play snowbirds and head south for the winter. Or at least part of it, at any rate. Jamie would work here on-site until her season started again, then they’d head north once more. “I’ve offered them my loft for the week,” Payne told him.
Guy closed the trunk. “Jamie told me. They’re going to go ahead and move their stuff into my place. A lot of Jamie’s things are still there, and they didn’t want to go through the hassle of moving downstairs once you got back. You’re fine with that, right?”
Payne nodded, secretly relieved. Just as well, he supposed. Frankly, he preferred his privacy and, while he knew there was nothing in his loft he didn’t mind them seeing, he still wasn’t altogether comfortable having anyone in his space. Odd, he knew. He’d certainly shared more than an apartment with these guys over the years. Still...
“I’ll be in touch,” Payne finally told him, dreading this with every fiber of his being, but anxious to get it over with nonetheless. The sooner he found the watch--or didn’t, whatever the case may be--the sooner he could get back to Atlanta and get back to work. While he’d enjoyed his time in the military, Payne had to confess that he’d slipped into civilian mode without incident. Structure was structure no matter where one put it into practice, he supposed.
Guy chuckled. “Happy hunting.”
“Smart ass.”
“Hey while you’re up there, why don’t you see if you can find the Holy Grail as well?”
Payne chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “You’re time’s coming,” he reminded him. “Remember that.”
Guy winced, suddenly serious. “Trust me. I’m not likely to forget.”
He supposed not, Payne thought. And considering what Garrett had put he and Jamie through, Guy had every reason to worry. God only knew what sort of hellish favor he’d ask of him.
To hell with it, Payne thought, making his way into the terminal. He just wanted it over with.
And the sooner the better.
* * *
Emma dutifully called her mother the instant she deplaned to let her know she’d arrived without incident and, head down, was shoving her cell phone back into her bag when she suddenly collided with something big, hard and warm...and were it not for the equally big, warm hands clamped upon her upper arms, she would have toppled gracelessly to the ground.
After emitting a very unladylike grunt, followed by a stinging curse, she looked up into the face of her savior and wished that she had fallen.
Directly into a black hole.
Cool winter blue eyes stared down at her and the hint of a smile lurked on a pair of lips which instantly put her in mind of slow deep kisses and hot frantic sex. She’d seen his mouth from a distance, of course--like the rest of him--but this up close and personal view was wreaking havoc in places that hadn’t had so much as a mild uprising in over a year. A warm tingle started in her midsection and radiated outward until it zinged hotspots which would undoubtedly love his carnal mouth’s singularly focused attention.
He had a reputation for being cool, detached, focused, methodical and fool-proof and Emma would be lying if she hadn’t nursed a secret crush of sorts, a secret fantasy of being on the receiving end of that sort of ...unwavering attention. He wouldn’t merely seduce, he would consume and the idea of being absorbed by the mysteriously aloof Brian Payne was almost more than she could handle.
Furthermore, she’d expected to run into him in the course of her quest, but she hadn’t expected it to be in the literal sense.
At the airport, no less.
Still, she thought, reminding herself to breathe, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She knew he hadn’t gotten the jump on her, for starters.
“I’m s-sorry,” Emma finally stammered awkwardly. She drew back, righted her purse and carry-on bag.
“No problem,” he told her, that cool gaze assessing her, causing little hot-flashes to blink in rhythm to a mental warning light. “You’re not hurt, I hope.”
Emma felt a sheepish grin tug at her lips. “The only thing aching at the moment is my pride, but it’ll recover.”
The comment drew a vague smile. “You look familiar,” he said, seemingly trying to place her. “Have we met?”
Mildly panicked, Emma shook her head. “Er...no, we haven’t,” she answered truthfully. They hadn’t been formally introduced...but they might have met in passing once or twice.
“My mistake, then.”
“Er...well, thank you for catching me,” she said, deciding it was time to end this little chat. She readjusted her bags, and started to move around him. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
B
efore he could puzzle anymore over where he might have seen her, Emma sidestepped around him and made her way down the concourse. She could feel his gaze boring into her back, knew that he was only a few paces behind her without looking over her shoulder to see--she could feel him. She determinedly ignored the prickly sensation tingling at the nape of her neck, the restless heat suddenly swelling below her bellybutton and forced herself to think of something else.
The money did the trick.
She needed it too badly to let herself get sidetracked by a set of cool blue eyes and impossibly wide shoulders.
Since she hadn’t checked any baggage--had managed to cram an entire week’s bulky winter wardrobe into her carry-on--she avoided baggage claim and made her way past the luggage carousels, directly to the car rental counter. From the corner of her eye, she watched Payne snag a single black suitcase from the conveyer, then scan the various rental company signs until he found the one he wanted.
Unfortunately, it was hers.
Shit.
Another one of those almost-but-not-quite implied smiles haunted his lips as he sauntered toward her. “We meet again,” he said. A gratifying flash of appreciation flared in those wintry eyes.
Emma managed a weak grunt, which she was sure matched her equally weak smile. She wanted to have a general idea of his whereabouts and what he was up to, but having him tail her gave him too many opportunities to try and place her. Given his reputation, she knew if he made the connection it wouldn’t take long for him to get suspicious, then confirm his suspicions and then the one advantage she’d had would be lost.
And that would be bad.
Rather than wait for the clerk to ask for her name, Emma pulled out her ID and handed it to him before he could ask. “I’m in a bit of a hurry,” she said, hoping to spur the guy along.
“Certainly.” He scanned his computer screen, then winced. “You reserved a sedan. Unfortunately, we’ve overbooked and only have a couple of vehicles left.”
Emma tamped down her initial irritation, felt Payne’s interest shift from her to the car rental clerk. “What do you have left?” she asked, pleased that her voice didn’t climb right along with her blood pressure.
He stroked a few keys, poked his tongue in his cheek. “Looks like we’ve got a Hummer and--“ He peered at the monitor, then looked up at her and grinned, showing enough metal in his mouth to power a small country. “--and a VW Bug. How about I put you in that one?”
Emma’s initial reaction was to say yes, the Bug would be fine--truth be told she’d always thought they were adorable and, were she able to afford a new car, the VW was definitely what she’d want. But something about the clerk’s automatic assumption that she wouldn’t want--or couldn’t handle--the Hummer pricked a nerve. Furthermore, while the idea of her behind the wheel of the Bug was appealing, the idea of putting Payne behind it was even more so. She felt an evil smile tease her lips and had to forcibly resist the urge to look at him.
Emma cleared her throat. “What happens to my rate?” she asked. She had to be practical, after all. “Will it go up?”
He shook his head. “No, not since we weren’t able to accommodate your initial reservation.”
Emma smiled brightly. “In that case, I’ll take the Hummer.”
Though he hadn’t so much as moved a muscle, Emma could feel Payne’s displeasure bouncing off her, pinging her like sonar. Though it could only be her imagination, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
Evidently the clerk felt it, too, because his chrome-like smile faltered. “It’s an awfully big ride, ma’am,” he said, giving her a quick once over. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the Bug?”
Yes, she probably would. But he would be more uncomfortable in the Bug and, at the moment, Payne’s discomfort was a lot more appealing. Furthermore, she might be small, but she was more than capable of handling the Hummer. She mentally rolled her eyes. Hell, it couldn’t be any more difficult than manning a tank.
“I’m sure,” Emma told him. “In this instance, size matters,” she said and thought she heard a little choked noise beside her. She winced, hoping to pull off a little vulnerability. “I’d feel safer in the Hummer.”
“Of course,” he said, albeit reluctantly. He expelled a small breath and, looking as though he knew the coming exchange with his next customer was going to be unpleasant, printed out the necessary paperwork and handed her the keys. “I’ll let them know that you’re coming,” he said, indicating the outside staff.
Emma grinned, snagged the keys and turned to leave. Her gaze tangled with Payne’s and the commingled flash of irritation, suspicion and grudging admiration she saw in those twin blue pools made her belly tip in a wild roll. He knew what she’d done--that she’d purposely chosen the Hummer to thwart him--and it suddenly occurred to Emma that her petty act of unwarranted revenge might have thrown up a red flag.
In front of a legendary bull, no less.
Oy.
“Drive safely,” he murmured silkily as she walked past, his voice laced with an edge of menace that she found curiously thrilling.
Never one to allow herself to be intimidated, Emma merely cocked a brow. “You, too,” she said, then without sparing him another glance, stomach trembling, walked away.
CHAPTER 3
Payne ordinarily didn’t make rash decisions. He was practical, methodical, focused--he relied on an economy of logic to lead him to his actions and decisions. This was his modus operandi, his preferred method of operation and yet one provoking slightly self-satisfied look and a cat-in-the-cream-pot smile from a hot little cracker-jack of a female had totally thrown him off his game.
Why else would he have decided to rent the Bug--when he could have just as easily gone to another car rental counter and gotten something more suitable--then hurried after her?
It was the height of illogical stupidity and yet he couldn’t seem to help himself. There’d been something vaguely familiar about her when she’d plowed into him on the concourse. Certainly he’d never been introduced to her--there’s no way he would have forgotten those eyes.
They were unforgettable.
Deep blue, the shade of sugared violets and fringed with long, curly lashes. He’d righted her, had kept her from falling, but only by sheer dent of will had he kept his own feet beneath him when she’d looked up and her startled gaze had connected with his.
Payne wasn’t accustomed to being shocked. Little if anything ever produced more than a ripple over the calm pond of his composure. He prided himself on his generally unerring ability to keep his emotions in check, on never losing control. It was his source of strength, irrefutable proof that he wouldn’t be like his weak-willed father or his impetuous, unpredictable mother.
To his immense discomfort and surprise, however, one look into the eyes of his mystery Hummer woman had done more than merely shake him up--she’d rocked his very foundation. Only an idiot would go after her, Payne thought as he scanned the line of rental vehicles, his gaze instantly alighting on her shapely rear as she climbed into the driver’s seat.
He muttered a curse under his breath. She damn near needed a step ladder to get in the bloody SUV. At six and a half feet, Payne was used to being taller than most everybody, but he wasn’t just taller than her--he towered over her. She couldn’t be more than five one or two--he could easily pick her up with one hand--but what she lacked in height she more than made up for with attitude. An unwelcome flash of heat engulfed his loins, forcing him to clench his jaw.
And sex appeal.
He’d never had what one could call a preference when it came to what attracted him to the opposite sex, but this woman--whoever she was--had it in spades. She had short, black tousled-looking curls, those amazing eyes which had sucked the wind right out of his lungs, small elfin-like features--high cheek-bones, a rather sharp nose and lips that put a man in mind of a ripe strawberry and a strength of character, determination and the smallest hint of vulnerability which he ins
tinctively knew she’d resent. She was small, but curvy and fit and, despite her petite size, she’d felt curiously right in his arms a few moments ago.
In a word, she was fascinating.
He’d spent a combined total of five minutes in her company and was so thoroughly intrigued that he’d allowed himself to be rented into a VW Bug--a lime green one, no less, dammit, Payne realized as his gaze zeroed in on the little car. Ironically, it was parked directly in front of the Hummer and looked like its Beetle namesake hunkered in front of the big SUV, waiting to get squashed. His lips quirked.
Furthermore, given the way the mystery woman precisely angled the mirrors, she looked strangely capable of doing the job herself, he thought, reluctantly impressed. She didn’t look the least bit apprehensive or worried about handling the monster-sized vehicle.
Payne’s grim gaze slid to the Bug once more. He wasn’t worried about handling it, per se, but was more concerned about fitting into the damned thing.
Ultimately, that’s what had gotten him, had put her so firmly on his radar.
Payne was pretty good at reading people, prided himself on his ability to size a person up. It had been a handy tool as a Ranger and, curiously, even handier in the private sector. He could easily discern a lie from the truth, knew when a perspective client was seeking his services for an honorable or legitimate cause. That keen ability had kept Ranger Security out of less desirable jobs and off the payroll of more than one undesirable character.
When the car rental clerk had announced that he only had a couple of cars left, naturally Payne had gone on alert. He’d had a vested interest, after all, and it behooved him to pay close attention. As such, he’d watched her closely to see which car she would choose. She’d wanted the Bug--he’d known from the quick flash of wistfulness he’d seen in those remarkable eyes--and yet she’d, ultimately chosen the Hummer.
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