by Desiree Holt
“We’ve got everything set up, Mr. Vanetta,” one of them said. “We didn’t want to give out the code cards before you got here. And we want to walk both you and Miss Ferrell through the setup.”
Nick nodded his thanks.
One of the men opened the aluminum case in his hand to reveal a built-in machine of some sort. He took out four plastic cards and ran each through a programmer. At the same time, his partner punched something into a handheld computer. Finally, they handed out the cards.
“Each of you has your own code programmed in,” the first one explained. “Whenever you enter or leave, a message gets sent to a central computer that records who it is and the date and time. Mr. Vanetta, we made one for you, too, so you wouldn’t need to borrow someone’s card to come and go.”
“Thanks.” Nick looked at Lindsey. “It’s standard procedure to give the agency a code card for every system Guardian sets up.”
Everyone swiped their cards to enter the suite of offices, then Nick gave them a tour of the new alarm system. He called his office to tell them he was running a test, then watched while each person practiced setting the codes. After that, Brianna went to her desk to check their messages and Mark made himself invisible in the workroom.
Lindsey was the only one Nick showed the system for the apartment. He had separate key cards for the entrances from the office and the hall and a totally separate setup for her private system.
“From here on out,” he told her, “no staff in the living quarters.”
“All right,” she nodded. “Now, I’d better get started on those projects before my clients beat down the door.”
“I’ll be in your apartment working on my laptop, if that’s okay. And it’ll give me privacy while I call the office.”
“Fine. No problem.” She punched the intercom. “Bri, you need to hold my calls until lunch, unless it’s something earth-shattering.”
“Will do.”
Nick spent most of the morning out of sight, although periodically he would silently come to the connecting door to check on her. He also strolled the corridor occasionally, pretending to search for an office or the men’s room, looking for anyone or anything that appeared out of place.
The office hummed quietly with work. Even the ring of the telephone seemed muted as they all went about their assignments.
At twelve-thirty, Brianna tapped on Lindsey’s door and walked in.
“Here are your messages.” She handed over a stack of pink slips. “Nothing urgent, but a couple of prospective clients called for appointments. Just make a note of what you want to do with them, and I’ll call them back. I sent the Randolph and Marquez documents to your computer for you to check. Make your changes, and I’ll get them out. And I’m going to lunch.”
“Where’s Mark?” Lindsey rotated her shoulders, working out the kinks.
“He left a few minutes ago. I caught him talking on the phone just before he left and blushing.” She grinned. “I think he’s got a girlfriend.”
“Mark?” Lindsey swallowed her amazement. “I didn’t think he knew what girls were for.”
“Just goes to show you, right?” She turned to leave. “See you in about an hour.”
“Yes. Okay. Just lock everything on your way out and set the alarm. I think I’ll eat in.”
“With the hunk?” Brianna teased.
“He’s working here as private security,” Lindsey reminded her primly.
Brianna laughed and closed the door.
Lindsey hadn’t heard the connecting door open or sensed any movement, but suddenly Nick was standing beside her.
“I checked your cupboards,” he said. “I can’t believe you eat some of that stuff. We’ll have to do some grocery shopping.”
“Maybe you’d like to give me a list,” she bit off. “Or should we have put your food requirements in your contract?”
Damn. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so sharp.
“One of these days that smart tongue of yours is going to get you in real trouble. You’re lucky I’m such an easygoing guy.” He grinned. “We can go to the Central Market later and lay in some supplies for when we stay here. Meanwhile, let’s slip out the side door and go grab something quick. I’ve got someone keeping an eye on the office while we’re gone.”
“All right, but nothing fancy like yesterday. Just a sandwich. Besides, I don’t need too many top dollar meals showing up on the expense account.”
His hand tightened on her arm, and he yanked her around to face him. His eyes, which normally gleamed like blue fire, now looked like ice trapped on the bottom of the ocean.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he asked through gritted teeth. “I thought we’d settled into a pretty good working relationship. For your information, when I ask someone out to lunch, it comes out of my pocket. Yesterday, I entertained a client. Today we’re just stoking the engine.”
She dropped her gaze. When had sounding like a shrew become a defense against her reaction to Nick? “I’m sorry. I’m just…tense.”
He relaxed, nodding his head. “Understood. Now. Do you have a preference?”
She dragged up a smile. “As a matter of fact, I do. Schilo’s. It’s just down the street, and I could really go for one of their corned beef sandwiches.”
Schilo’s, a German delicatessen, was a long-standing favorite of San Antonio residents who loved the mouth-watering sandwiches, homemade soups, and great sausage platters. The place was always crowded with a mixture of business people and tourists. She hoped they could find a table. If not, they could always take their lunch back to the apartment with them.
“Let’s go, then.” Nick made her go through all the security steps from the office to the apartment and then out into the hall. The elevator stopped at every floor as it usually did at this time of day, but finally, they were outside and heading along the sidewalk.
As they stood at the corner waiting for the light to change someone shouted Nick’s name. He turned his head to see who was calling to him, momentarily stepping away from her.
As she stepped closer to the curb to get out of the way of the crowd on the sidewalk, she felt a hand against her back. The next thing she knew, she was shoved forward just as a big VIA bus came lumbering around the corner. The fender brushed her knee, nearly knocking her under the wheels.
She screamed, flailing her arms in panic.
Chapter Eight
A steely hand gripped Lindsey’s arm and roughly yanked her back.
“Are you all right?” Shock and a sick feeling at what almost happened etched deep lines on Nick’s face.
“Y—Yes. I’m sorry.” Lindsey pushed her hair out of her face and drew in a shuddering breath. “I think someone pushed me.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he insisted. “You nearly became a hood ornament for that bus.”
It amazed Lindsey that all around them people continued to move about, totally unaware of the disaster that nearly occurred. She might as well have been invisible to them.
“Answer me, damn it.” He ran his gaze over every inch of her. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I think I need to sit down somewhere.” Her eyes were wide. “I know this sounds crazy, but I swear I felt someone’s hand on my back. Nick, I think someone pushed me.”
His jaw muscle clenched. “Not so crazy. Someone called my name, but I think it was deliberate, to distract me from you. I didn’t see anyone I know, and no one came near me. Come on. Let’s sit over here.”
He led her to a covered VIA bus stop and sat her gently on the bench. Her face was white and strained, and her hands still trembled as she lifted the hem of her skirt to assess the damage. A large, ugly scrape below her knee was slowly oozing blood.
Nick cursed steadily under his breath. He took out his handkerchief and brushed off her leg as tenderly and gently as he could. The wound needed cleaning, and she would have a hell of a bruise.
“All right,” he
told her. “We’re going to sit here for a few minutes, and then we’re going to walk slowly back to your building. It’s my own damn fault. I’m not usually distracted like that. I never should have let go of you, and you can bet that’s the only time it’s going to happen.”
They sat on the bench for a few moments, Nick close to her, eyes scanning the people moving past.
“Okay.” She let out another long breath. “I think I’m okay now. Let’s get away from here.”
“Are you sure?” He ran a critical eye over her. “Your color’s better, but you still look like you’re in shock. I think we should take a cab.”
“For just a couple of blocks?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We’ll just walk slowly.”
Nick kept a firm grip on her arm as they headed back to the office, his eyes constantly checking the crowd. She gritted her teeth against the sharp pain slashing through her knee, unwilling to admit just how much it hurt.
“I need to clean that knee,” he told her as soon as they were back in her apartment.
“It’s fine,” she insisted. “I’ll just wash it off.”
“Damn it, Lindsey, you’ve got all kinds of dirt in it.” He blew out a breath of frustration. “Quit being so hardheaded and let me take care of it. Or do you want me to take you to the emergency room?”
She looked at the wound and had to admit it was a lot nastier than she’d thought.
“Lie down on your bed,” Nick ordered. “It will be easier to clean the scrape that way. Besides, you look like you’ll fall down otherwise.”
She realized he was right. The ordeal had caught up with her, the adrenaline high was crashing, and her legs were about to give out on her. On top of that, the pain seemed to be getting worse. She did as he told her, thankful to lie back against her pillows.
I wish I was lying on this bed with him for some other reason than first aid.
As soon as the thought entered her brain, she ruthlessly suppressed it. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d known this man for less than seventy-two hours, and she was having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about him. Inappropriate because she was a client of his, and because she had sworn off men. Maybe this was all a big mistake, because Nick Vanetta, just by being in the same room with her, was playing hell with her hormones. Every hour they were together, her unwanted attraction to him grew and intensified.
Damn. Everything he did just increased the attraction she felt for him. Not good. Not good at all. Why couldn’t he be one of those rude men who just did his job and nothing else?
Nick brought her two aspirins and a glass of water, helping her to sit up while she took them. Then he rummaged through her bathroom, found some first aid supplies and a washcloth, and carried them back to the bedroom. With great care and the utmost gentleness, he cleaned and treated her leg. But she noticed a fine tension in his body and he kept clenching his jaw so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.
“What in the world is the matter with you?” she finally asked. “I said I was sorry I got careless.”
“God damn it.” The words exploded from his mouth. Then he drew in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “Don’t you understand? This was my fault, not yours. I’m supposed to be protecting you. Fine protection I am.” He shook his head. “Shit.”
“Nick, it was an accident.” Or maybe not.
He drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “This was no accident, Lindsey. You could have been killed because I wasn’t paying attention. Because someone called out my name. And I don’t know if whoever this is has someone working with him or was just clever enough to distract me and push you into the street.”
She struggled to sit up. “I was the one not paying attention. Please don’t keep blaming yourself. I should have been more alert, too.”
“Be as alert as you want, but it’s still my job to keep you safe. I don’t appear to be doing it very well. I’ve been in the office too long. Maybe I’ve lost my edge. God fucking damn.”
“Nick—”
He shook his head. “Leave it, Lindsey. It was my fault, and I’ll make it right. Stand up and tell me how the leg feels.”
When she put her weight on both feet, she wanted to tell him it felt like crap, but that was the last thing he needed to hear. “It’s okay. Sore, but I can handle it.”
“Tonight we’ll put some ice on it. At the moment, I need to make some phone calls. Among other things, I want some backup around us. In most situations, I can take care of you completely. But if this guy is escalating and doing the kinds of things that happened today, it’s stupid not to have reinforcements.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched a number on speed dial, then gave her a crooked grin. “I’ll get someone to bring us some food, too. We sorta missed lunch.”
“I don’t think I can eat,” she protested. “My stomach is too tied up in knots.”
“You need something,” he objected. “I saw some soup in your cupboards. Can you handle that?”
“I think so.” She started to get up, but he forced her back down again.
“Rest. Let the aspirins work. I can heat up a can of soup.”
While he fixed lunch, he made several calls on his cell. Lindsey strained to hear what he was saying, but all that came through was the soothing murmur of his low voice. Finally, she heard him call her to come to the table and she limped out of the bedroom. He had a bowl of soup set out with crackers and sat with her while she ate slowly. The tension in her body eased as the hot liquid worked its way through her system. She hadn’t thought she could finish all of her lunch, but surprisingly, when she looked, the bowl was empty.
“Good girl.” Nick rinsed the bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher. “We’ll do better at dinner. I have some people on the way here. They’ll come directly into the apartment because I want to keep them away from your office.” He let his gaze roam over her, assessing her. “Are you sure you’re in shape to go back to work?”
“I have to.” She raked her fingers through her hair. The aspirin had taken the edge off the pain, and the soup had given her some strength. “There are things I have to take care of. Anyway, it’ll be good for me. It’ll take my mind off what’s happening.”
“All right. But I’ll check on you periodically. And don’t say anything to your office staff about this,” he cautioned. “I want to contain it until I feel I have a better handle on things.”
“Sure. I understand. Whatever you say.” She forced a smile. “You won’t get any argument from me.”
In the bathroom, she straightened her hair and makeup, thinking nothing would help much today, but at least it made her feel a little better. Finally, she put on a longer skirt, fuller, with softer material that hid her injury and wouldn’t be rough on her skin.
Back in her office, she forced herself to go pick up the sketches she’d left, trying to wipe the incident with the bus out of her mind. But her brain kept wandering, unbidden, back to that terrifying moment. She could still feel the pressure of a hand against her back, the brush of the bus against her knee. Shivers chased themselves along her spine.
Luckily, she had a light appointment schedule for the afternoon, because she felt on the ragged edge of collapse. She had no idea how she’d handle a lot of people right now. Even so, the hours seemed endless. Her knee kept stiffening up on her, and she had to stop and flex it every so often. She needed more aspirin, too, but she didn’t want to walk to get it and she felt ridiculous bothering anyone. If she could make it to the end of the day, she could lie down again.
****
Nick spent the afternoon making phone calls, asking questions, and talking to Reno about the situation. His partner agreed with Nick’s assessment that the stalker’s tactics were escalating. That meant the game plan needed to be changed. The two men decided which agents would be tapped as backup, and Reno said he’d take care of it.
Nick was angrier with himself than he’d been in a long time. Falling for an old, stupid, amateur trick like the one today vio
lated a hard and fast rule of private security—never, ever take your attention away from the client. Never lose your concentration on the surroundings. He had done both. It was a wonder Lindsey hadn’t fallen under the bus and a greater wonder she hadn’t fired him. This was a dumb rookie mistake.
He quietly checked on her throughout the afternoon, poking his head apologetically into the office, giving her a reassuring smile. When the men he’d asked for arrived, he spent a lot of time giving them an overview of both the building and the situation and deciding who would take which assignment. He’d tapped Tony Sullivan, Reno’s brother, to lead the support team. They were in the apartment going over details when he heard Lindsey shout.
“Nick? Nick, come here right away. Hurry.”
The fear in her voice had a fist closing around his heart and sent him barreling into her office, Tony right on his heels.
Lindsey stood at her desk, not moving, staring at her computer. She was shaking so badly she had to hang onto the desk. Nick crossed the distance in three quick strides. On her screen was a shot of her at the corner today nearly being sucked under the bus, with Nick yanking her to safety. Across the bottom were the words, “Close, wasn’t it? Remember, bitch. I’m watching you.”
“It’s okay, Lindsey,” he soothed, his hands gentle on her shoulders. “I’ve got it.”
Fucking son of a bitch.
Lindsey Ferrell sure didn’t seem the type to generate this kind of rage in someone. He was so angry, if he got his hands on whoever this was, he might strangle him. Clenching his jaw, Nick pulled himself together to focus on what was needed. He was an expert at this. That was why people hired him, and he’d already screwed up once today. He didn’t plan for that to happen again. He’d take all the anger at himself and direct it at whoever was doing this.
“It’s okay, Lindsey. It’s just another email. We’ll identify the source and see wat we can do about blocking it on your computer.”
She leaned back against him, her body fragile beneath his touch. “I trust you to do this, Nick.”
Well, he damn well better deserve that trust. He stroked her shoulders for a moment, but such close contact with her body made his own behave in a totally inappropriate manner. Maybe he’d need to have a stern talk with is cock as well as with himself. He needed to stop imagining what it would feel like to bury himself in her soft, sweet flesh and—