by Jan Graham
The cotton candy colored manila folder Marcus withdrew from his briefcase drew Clay’s attention. And not just because of the girly pink color, which stood in stark contrast to the hardened man holding it.
When Marcus handed it to him he flicked through the contents. The surveillance photo of an attractive blonde caught his eye. She was stunning.
“We have an issue with the number of women targeted for collection by the sex trafficking mob,” Marcus explained. “Hex is currently out grabbing this particular target and will deliver her to you down at the Highlands safe house by mid-morning. You can read the full dossier on her once you’re down there. Don’t let Adrian see it. Not yet at least.”
Marcus telling him to read the file later was fortunate because Clay hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the woman he’d soon have living under the same roof as him. His cock stirred at the sight of her. He’d either been without a woman for too long or this adjunct to the current mission might pose an interesting problem for him. Would it be inappropriate for him to seduce a target? Hex did it all the time, but Clay wasn’t like his womanizing colleague. He always conducted himself in a professional manner. It was the core component of his training. Job first, personal life second.
Who was he kidding? Since becoming Adrian’s private minder he no longer had a personal life. He’d become the most boring thirty-five-year-old on the planet. His daily routine consisting of household chores, maintaining his weapons collection, working out, reading, playing chess—he remained undefeated in the game much to Adrian’s displeasure— and experimenting with new recipes. After all, two men who’d never had to cook for themselves in their life couldn’t live on ramen noodles, frozen dinners and take-out alone. They needed to eat something that resembled real food and both Adrian and he had become quite skillful home chefs over the years.
“So, what’s the deal? I know you wouldn’t call me back for just anyone,” Clay watched his boss intently.
“It’s Adrian’s daughter,” Marcus stated. “I think it’s time we gave him a pleasant family reunion. Play it carefully though, make sure they’ve both settled into the safe house before breaking the news to them.”
“Just great, Boss,” Clay couldn’t help but let his frustration show, “because the last family reunion you organized for Adrian went so well. Adrian’s son ended up sectioned to a psychiatric facility.”
“This is different. His son’s a psychopathic killer, she’s not. Ebony is an innocent caught up in a mess that I helped create. The fact she’s targeted is a problem we need to deal with, so why not let Adrian help. It could be the making of them,” Marcus smirked.
Yeah right. This was going to be a pleasant walk in the park—not. First, Adrian would be furious that Clay didn’t tell him about his daughter from the get-go. An angry Adrian wasn’t a joy to be around. Second, they were effectively about to kidnap Ebony for her own protection. How would he explain to a terrified woman her supposedly dead father was alive and well in the next room and looking forward to getting reacquainted? What was Marcus up to? This thing had nightmare written all over it.
“I’m not sure this is a clever idea, Boss. I mean, I see your reasoning, but really! Why don’t we just secure Adrian at your place then I’ll look after Ebony down at the safe house? Keeping them apart could be the best thing for all of us.”
He suspected it was the best decision for him. He didn’t do family drama, or family anything for that matter. Not because he didn’t want to. He simply didn’t know how.
“This isn’t up for discussion. The decision’s made. You get both.”
Marcus had his don’t-fuck-with-me tone happening, so Clay did what all good soldiers do. Gave a nod of understanding accompanied by a quick, firm, “Yes, Boss.”
Marcus followed up Clay’s agreement with general housekeeping shit. Sasha was currently stocking the safe house with everything they’d need, ready for their arrival. She’d leave the SUV with them and return to the city on the chopper. If he needed anything else, not that they should, Clay would use the company credit card.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as we’ve wrapped everything up here and Ebony is no longer in danger. Until then. Good luck.” Marcus turned and made his way to the car leaving Clay wondering how the hell he would make this situation work.
As he walked to the chopper he laughed out loud. Just when he’d readied himself to get back into the adrenaline filled action of a live mission, his boss had sidelined him once again. Another babysitting job. He was starting to feel like an overpaid nanny, instead of the highly skilled, take no prisoners mercenary that Marcus hired him to be.
* * * *
Ebony shuffled to the car, her feet throbbing, back and head aching from pulling a double shift at the mini-mart. An elongated sigh left her lips as she sat in the driver’s seat. Savoring the ability to relax her head back she took a moment to regroup. In twenty minutes she’d be home and in bed. Maybe less given the early hour and the fact she’d be traveling in the opposite direction to the peak hour rush.
Turning the key in the ignition elicited a big fat nothing. Bloody car. If only she’d been able to keep the Lexus she’d once owned. That was gone, however, along with the house and other fineries her inheritance had once brought. Now she worked for minimum wage, lived in a neat one-bedroom apartment that wasn’t flash, surrounded by furniture purchased as a package deal from a discount furniture chain—all of which she’d had to assemble herself. At least that was a new skill to add to her list entitled ‘learning how the other half live’.
If she’d known her ex had a serious gambling addiction, she’d have stayed away. She certainly wouldn’t have said “I do” in front of a truck load of friends at one of the most expensive wedding venues in the city. The problem with addictions of any sort was that, until the person was out of control, no-one really noticed. Yes, she knew he liked to visit the casino, go to the races and do whatever else allowed him to feed the gambling money pit he worshiped at, but she never believed it was a problem. Not until he’d mortgaged the house and almost drained the bank accounts dry.
It wasn’t all his fault. She’d enabled him. Allowing him to control the finances because she really didn’t understand figures and investment portfolios wasn’t her wisest move. She should have taken more interest, checked up on his activities and not signed paperwork without reading it first. So here she sat. A product of her own blind trust, financial naivety and, if she was totally honest, laziness. Having someone else take care of things for her was how she’d always lived. What a lesson this last year had been. Ebony turned the key once more. Still nothing but a clicking noise. Like the car wanted to work but didn’t have the energy to fire up and go. She knew how it felt. Maybe she could just sleep in the car and show up for her next shift in the clothes she had on.
Popping the release trigger and dragging herself out from behind the wheel, she raised the hood. Hopefully someone would show up to help and fix the problem of a loose wire or dirty something so she could be on her way. It had to be simple. She didn’t have the funds for expensive repairs or, God forbid, to buy something else.
“Need a hand?” Ebony turned around to see the sexy man who’d flirted with her over the counter around midnight.
“Don’t you ever go home, or are you stalking me?” she joked as he stepped up to peer at the engine with her.
“I was just popping back for the milk I forgot to grab last night. A man needs his favorite breakfast cereal to get started in the morning,” he replied as he fiddled with a few nobs and leads. “It doesn’t look good. Your starter motor might be on the fritz.”
He was way to cheery for the night she’d just had but at least he was trying to help. He was also easy on the eye, not that she was looking to become entangled with another man. It was way too soon after the last disaster for that.
“Can you fix it?” against hope she prayed he’d say yes.
“No can do, sorry,” he grinned down at her. “I’m also sorry a
bout this.”
He moved his hands to her face as if to cup it. Was he going in for a kiss? Did she want him to? It wasn’t until she felt the sting at the side of her neck, like a mosquito bite, that it registered she was in trouble. He caught her as the world began to spin and her legs buckled beneath her.
About the Author
Jan Graham is an author of Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. Her stories contain erotic elements, with some including elements of BDSM. She has numerous published titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of procrastination. Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads, feeds her Netflix addiction and drinks coffee with friends.
For those who enjoy labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a submissive, an aunt, dyslexic, a lover of all things tempting and naughty (including chocolate), a participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and sometimes, a wild child.
In short, she is generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center. You can find out more about Jan and her work by stalking her on the various social media sites where she occasionally hangs out.
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Current and New Books by the Author
Hot, Sexy, Short Reads
Hot in the City Series
Secret Desire
Resisting Love
Sensual Healing
Submitting to Temptation
Stand Alone Novellas
One Night in Sydney
Wylde Shore Series
Finding Angel
Playing Jax
Switching Mercedes
Mercenary Heat Series
(A Wylde Shore spin off series)
Tempting Marcus
Her Captured Heart
(coming July 2018)
Restoring His Soul
(Coming Nov/Dec 2018)