by Eve Langlais
“Good. Finally, something you did right.”
Darren might have looked affronted, but the meathead snickered.
Misery loved company.
The long driveway was lit by lampposts. She remarked on them. “Electric or solar?”
“Solar with an electric backup. They are also independently wired, so cutting the juice to one light doesn’t affect the others.”
“How many guards on the grounds?”
“Four at all times. Plus a pair of trained dogs. They are swapped out at alternating times, so there’s never a gap in the security.”
“How did they miss the intruder the other night?”
Darren’s lips flattened. “It’s a big place.”
“We relied too much on the cameras. That’s part of the hole we’re fixing now,” Marcus added.
“Does that stone wall run the entire perimeter?”
“Three-quarters. The back end is pure marsh. Too soggy to build a wall but also too muddy for boats to traverse.”
“But someone could come through that way?”
“They could, but they wouldn’t make it far. Gators,” Marcus stated. “There’re also some vipers in there, and a few other traps for those who try.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help but brighten at the news. “You’ll have to show me.”
At that, Darren laughed. “Sure, impress the girl with your overgrown lizards.”
“Not my fault girls like big beasts,” Marcus said before slowing the car to a stop.
For some reason, his words made Kacy think of Marcus not just as a guy who needed training but a man.
A big man. Did that extend everywhere?
I can’t even believe I’m thinking about it.
Unable to stay inside the close confines of the car, she spilled out and then, conscious that people might be watching, did her best to look awestruck by the place.
It wasn’t really an act.
She stood before a freaking mansion. Like, seriously huge. As in she could have fit her whole family, plus a few relatives big.
Under the guise of taking it in, she spun around, her eyes scanning the illuminated area, the solar-powered globes planted along the low-lying garden beds, the bushes too low to hide in. The same glowing bulbs lined the roundabout for the driveway, only changing into the taller lampposts as they marched down its winding expanse. She’d yet to see any signs of guards or dogs, and yet she’d been watching since their arrival through the heavy, metal gates as she chatted with her temporary boss.
Chatted.
Ugh.
The loquaciousness she’d had to pretend at dinner couldn’t even be blamed on the wine since she’d abstained and stuck to water. At least she’d managed to stick to work chatter for the drive.
Amazing how little thought Darren and Marcus had put into Darren’s protection. Much as she might hate this assignment, there was no doubt they needed her.
Pivoting back to the car, she noticed that Marcus stood beside it, also paying close attention to their surroundings. He spoke into his watch, the quiet murmurs too low for her to hear.
Kacy couldn’t ask the questions she wanted, so she hid them amongst banal ones. “This place is huge. You must have an army to take care of it.” It also had innumerable hiding spots where a sniper could be concealed. A vest might be a good idea to ensure some protection for Darren when he went outside.
A smile lifting his lips, Darren again put a hand in the middle of her back and guided her toward the house. “Almost an army. I have a housekeeper, who is a live-in, but her staff of cleaners only comes in at set times. The grounds are also maintained by a live-in fellow; he’s got a place in the far corner. Then there’s the security detail. I’ve got four people at all times patrolling the grounds, as well as a pair of trained dogs.”
“Wow, you must never get a minute alone.”
“Eyes are always watching,” he agreed. “So why don’t we adjourn to my room where we can be alone.”
By alone, he meant Marcus would follow them every step of the way.
After the shit she’d given him in the car about not leaving Darren alone, she couldn’t fault him for it, though.
Apparently, Darren had been raised with some old-fashioned manners that treated women as if they couldn’t figure out where to go on their own. Kacy allowed the hand in the middle of her back even if, under other circumstances, she might have grabbed it and twisted it. Until she went over this house with her detector, she wouldn’t trust they weren’t being watched. Darren might have had some academy training and have access to tools of their trade, but better shit was always coming along. Nothing remained infallible.
Even if the place appeared clean, she had to remember that his staff would be watching. Any one of them could find themselves tempted for the right price. Bribery could tempt even the most loyal, and when that didn’t work, threats often did.
The sweeping staircase belonged in Lifestyles of the Rich and Never Going to be in My Future magazine. Polished wood, wrought iron railings leading up to a balcony area that looked down over the entrance. A princess in a ball gown wouldn’t have been out of place.
A short Latina dressed in a slutty cocktail dress, wearing too much makeup and big hoop earrings did not belong.
Harry should have sent someone else. I don’t fit in.
While Darren led her from the back, Marcus kept ahead, meaning she got to watch the movement of his ass in his slacks. They were loosely fitted but expensive, obviously tailored to his size. She wondered if the bulk came from fat or muscle. The face indicated the latter, as did his thick neck and defined chin.
Not her type at all. Kacy usually went for guys her size, maybe an inch or so taller. Men she could lay flat on their backs and control.
Not giant meatheads who thought a woman’s place was probably in the kitchen and under him.
Flesh to flesh …
His body pressing into hers—
She wrenched her gaze away and concentrated on the details of the house.
At the top of the stairs, polished white marble with an intricate inlay met them along with two corridors on either side. Smack-dab between them, opposite the balcony, was a massive window. Kacy shifted to put herself between Darren and that glass and said aloud, “Wow, that’s the biggest window ever. Aren’t you afraid of people looking in?”
“It’s mirrored so, no matter the time of day, we can see out, but no one can see in.” Then Darren winked as he added, “You can streak naked past it and only have to worry about the inside staff.”
“Streaking is a thing boys do.”
“Usually, because they’re chasing a girl,” Marcus muttered, to which Darren laughed.
No surprise that at the end of the long hall stood a pair of massive, white-paneled doors. Marcus flung them open with a flourish, announcing, “The master suite.”
“And where’s your room?” she asked Marcus with a pointed look. He waved a hand at the door to their left. “Right in here. I’ll leave you two then, I guess.”
Marcus saluted her and spun to enter his room.
Amateur. No wonder Darren had hired her. She shut the doors behind them, clicked the deadbolt on it, and pulled out her compact.
Darren shook his head. “This room is clean.”
“Says you,” she muttered. A quick whirl with her compact, which acted as a mini radar for electronics emitting a wireless signal, and she was satisfied there was no one watching remotely.
With the realization that there were no cameras she could detect, she dropped all pretense. The high-heeled shoes got kicked off, the gun came out of the holster strapped to her thigh, and she ignored Darren as she inched around the place. The antechamber they’d entered acted as a mini living room with a couch and chair. A wall separated it from the bedroom area, the opening wide enough for a pair of pocket doors.
Slipping into the main sleeping area, she disliked on sight the gap under the giant king-sized bed that could hide a body, and the fact that the suite
had too many doors. Walk-in closet being one of them. A mini office in another.
She peeked through them both, the bathroom, too—a room the size of her apartment with a shower that could have bathed everyone on her street with room to spare—before she returned to the antechamber to find the men sitting on the couch.
“How did he get in here?” She’d heard the door click as she locked it. From the outside, she’d noted no keyhole.
Marcus pointed to a hole in the wall that she previously would have sworn was paneled. “Secret entrance.”
“Do you have any more in this room?” she asked.
Darren nodded. “One behind the fireplace. It leads to a shaft with a ladder that goes down below the level of the house to a tunnel that emerges on the pool deck by the guest house.”
“Is that your only escape route?”
He shook his head. “I have another one in my office on the main floor.”
“Does the fireplace work?”
“Yes. It runs on natural gas via a switch, so it looks perfectly legit from the outside.”
“Show me how it works.” It was Marcus who sprang to his feet to trip the latch. He also stood back as she peered down the hole. Satisfied it was empty for the moment, she closed the secret escape and then grabbed a vase to put over the trap door in the fireplace.
“Most people burn wood,” the big guy remarked.
“But a vase will make noise if knocked over,” she sassed back. She checked all the nooks and corners, peeked out at the balcony, too, but she drew the line at entering Marcus’s room.
If an intruder hid in there, then maybe they’d kill the meathead.
Tucking her gun back into its holster, she announced, “The place is clear.”
“I know,” Marcus stated.
“How would you know since you sat your fat ass down on that couch? No wonder your boss needs a real bodyguard.”
“You can lose the attitude. I knew the room was clear because I had one of our security team check it out as we were coming up the drive.”
“And how do you know he wasn’t compromised?”
“Do you see a conspiracy everywhere you look?” Marcus snapped.
“Yes. And so should you.”
“Listen, little pint—”
“Call me little again, and you’ll be talking in a soprano voice the rest of your life.” The attitude on this man, and the fact that he kept diminishing her with the name, made her snap.
“Going to hit me below the belt again?” he admonished. “Is that the only way you can win a fight?”
“Get off your lazy ass, and I’ll show you just how well I can fight.” She held up her fists, knowing Harry would rebuke her, realizing she shouldn’t let Marcus get to her, but something about the man set her off.
“I don’t know who put the stick up your ass, but you’re going to have to loosen it.”
“That stick is what will probably end up saving your boss’s life.”
“Now, children, no need to fight over me.” The placating tone from the client veered her attention.
Kacy’s glare met a smile. Darren found this amusing.
“Listen, cariño, I was hired to protect your ass. You might be rich, but don’t think that makes you special. And don’t think because you’ve got some fancy toys and hired security that you are invulnerable. I’ve only been here a few minutes, and I already see all kinds of holes in your defenses.”
“Of course there are holes,” Marcus interjected, “because he wants to live like a real person and not a prisoner in his own home.”
“Yeah, well, his home is going to get him killed if the price on his head is high enough.”
“I’ve got a state-of-the-art system,” Darren noted.
“I heard you were attacked in bed. How did that system work for you?”
“That was a mistake that’s been corrected.”
“How many more mistakes around here?” She waved a hand around. “Windows all over. Balconies. A huge property with a stone wall, which won’t stop even a child from climbing.”
“What do you suggest, then?” Marcus asked. “Put him in a cement box and hope he doesn’t suffocate?”
“For starters, how about not assuming his room was safe before going into yours?”
“Because that would have looked suspicious, little pint. Weren’t you the one advocating I not blow your cover? Do you know a lot of bodyguards who hone in on their boss when he’s about to get lucky?”
“You had no problem interfering at dinner.”
“Only because I like their pasta.”
The reply took her aback. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged, and the first genuine smile lit his craggy features. “They make the best linguine topped with cream sauce and scallops.”
“So you get some for takeout. You don’t sit in on a first date.”
“Weren’t you the one telling me I should have frisked my boss’s date? And now you’re going to be pissed I stuck around for dinner to ensure you didn’t stab him with a fork?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare turn this back on me, meathead. You’re just pissed because I’m showing you the holes in your training.”
“Holes? Maybe, instead of flapping your pie hole, you should do something constructive.”
“Let me guess, make you a sandwich?”
“What, don’t you have a special recipe for a taco?”
“You did not just say that!” she screeched.
“What’s wrong? Can’t take it? Funny, because you seem able to dish it.”
“You’re a xenophobic, misogynistic pig!”
“At least I’m not a pint-sized shrew with a chip on her shoulder that makes her think she can just insult people.”
Darren stood from the couch. “Ahem, well, since the two of you seem determined to get to know each other, I think I’ll go to bed.”
“I’ll be there shortly. Keep your clothes on,” she snapped. “And don’t you dare go out on that balcony for any reason.”
“Would you like him to leave the door open when he uses the bathroom so he can yell if he needs help wiping his ass?” Marcus asked rather sarcastically.
“I’ll leave the cleaning-up-shit part to you since that’s all you’re qualified for.”
“Why you little—”
“Don’t say it!” Darren tapped his man on the arm. “The two of you need to work together. So get whatever it is you’ve got against each other out of your systems. Now. But try not to get any blood on the floor,” Darren admonished before disappearing into the bedroom part of his suite.
Only once the door closed—something she allowed for the moment—did she jab the big guy in the chest. “Listen here, meathead. Just because your feelings are hurt that your boss needed a real pro to guard him isn’t a reason to be an asshole.”
“Hate to break it to you, little pint, but this is me all the time. And before you think you’re so fucking special, the only reason you were hired is because the boss has some business shit coming up where bodyguards aren’t welcome but the flavor of the week is.”
“What’s wrong, meathead? Were you too big of a man to put on a pink shirt and call him ‘honey?’ Couldn’t muster up the courage to kiss him on the lips, grab him by the ass, and goose him?”
A chuckle rumbled out of him. “I’m not afraid to wear pink or a kilt. I even offered. He turned me down. It was the boss’s idea to get a girl because, for one thing, he’s never been into guys and, second, he didn’t want to ruin any future prospects with the ladies. But if I’d known his buddy would send the smallest gal he had, one who seems to think bitchiness is an acceptable trait, I would have put on a fucking dress and a bra and called myself Daisy.”
“Daisy?” She eyed him up and down. “You look more like a Bernice.”
“And you don’t look anything at all like the ladies he usually dates.”
“Let me guess, petite blondes who gush and bat their eyes every time he talks.” Sh
e snorted. “Yeah, I can see that. Too fucking bad. We were all out of blonde bimbos with rifle nipples in their fake boobs.”
“Is that really a thing?” he asked.
“No!” At least she’d yet to come across some, but then again, given today’s technology, she wouldn’t be surprised.
“Listen, I get that we didn’t get off on the right foot. However, we need to be able to work together,” the big guy said. “Even if I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it to be professional.” But…only a real bitch would ignore the olive branch he extended. “You’re right. We do need to learn to deal with each other if this is going to succeed. Truce?” She held out her hand.
He looked at her hand then her. “By truce, does that mean you’re going to stop shitting on everything I do and don’t do?”
“Nope. By truce, it means I will teach you what to do and not do, and not kill you in the process.”
“You really think you can take me?” His smile was all male, all arrogance, and it killed Kacy—fucking killed her—when her body actually reacted. She crossed her arms over her chest lest he notice her tightening nipples.
“You let me know when you want to be schooled, big boy. And I’ll make sure someone is taping it.”
“Deal.” He held out his hand, and she took it, noting the massive size of his paw engulfing hers, feeling the calluses, unlike the soft hand of his boss, who pushed paper for a living. This man had obviously done some work in his life before he took up bodyguarding.
Not that she cared. Marcus wasn’t the focus of her mission. And yet, he seemed determined to play a part in her dreams.
At least the dreams she had when she finally managed to fall asleep. Her new client rivaled a freight train with the noises that came out of his mouth.
At about three a.m., she wondered how much the bounty on his head was worth as she held a pillow over his face.
Chapter Seven
That night, Marcus slept in his bed, but he left the secret panel open.
While he hated to admit it, the damned woman had a point, several actually, that he should heed and not let his pride get in the way.
Truth was, his bodyguarding skills could use some improvement. The defense that Marcus never had to guard much against actual harm before didn’t excuse complacency. Laxity could get Darren killed, and Marcus couldn’t allow that to happen. He owed too much to the man. Way too much.