Final Surrender: The Surrender Series, Book 1

by Jennifer Kacey

  “I remember being very nice to you last night,” he added as he looked her body over with his eagle eyes, she swayed a bit as he took her all in, and he wanted to know how far down that blush went.

  “Not exactly what I meant,” she finally admitted.

  “No, but at least it made you nervous.”

  “And what good is it that I’m nervous now?”

  “I like you off-guard. You seem normal now instead of Super Angela.”

  “I’m not a super hero.”

  Clay reached out to take her hand, but she held it back.

  “Clay, we need to set some ground rules.”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “Do any of the rules allow me to lay you out on this table and lick every inch of you?”

  His eyes held her gaze until she looked away.

  She drew in an unsteady breath and answered, “No,” and he was sincerely disappointed that they couldn’t do just that.

  “Well damn, what are the rules then?”

  “At work we have to be one-hundred-percent professional. No one in my staff should know that you are anything other than my security detail. I’m sure it won’t be hard for them to believe since I haven’t dated in the years they’ve been with me. They probably think I’m a lesbian or dead from the waist down.”

  “Oh, if they only knew the truth,” Clay countered roughly, sounding like liquid sex even to his own ears.

  Angela continued undeterred, and he had to admire her for keeping her cool. “Second, I know you have to talk to my staff, but I need you to be discreet and nice.”

  “I’m always nice.”

  “Sure you are,” she agreed sarcastically. “Some of them are just as scared as I am since all of this is hitting so close to home. They need reassurance, not the third degree, got it?”

  After a moment’s deliberation, Clay agreed. “I’ll be nice and discreet. Scout’s honor,” he added as he stood to his full height next to her. “Any more rules, Ms. Fashion Designer?”

  “No, I think that’s it.” She turned to grab her papers and leave, but Clay caught her arm gently. Her skin was so soft, he couldn’t help but run his thumb over the silky flesh on the inside of her biceps.

  “Don’t you want to hear my rules?” he purred in her ear as he drew her closer.

  She stared up into his dark blue eyes. “What rules?” she asked. He felt her pulse beating like a jackrabbit. Unable to stop himself he bent and nibbled on her pulse point before straightening.

  “The one about you not leaving anywhere without me. We will sleep in the same room, we will eat together and we will stay together at all times. It is the only way for me to keep you safe. So no more coffee trips on your own, or sneaking down here to work, morning or night,” he added before her little mind could find a loophole. “Agreed?” he asked when she said nothing.

  “Okay,” she finally acquiesced, but she didn’t look happy about it.

  “Second rule, I’ll leave you alone with your staff and anybody in the outside world that you want to keep us a secret from, but when we’re alone, you…are…mine.”

  He didn’t state it in the form of a question. He knew it came out sounding more like an edict than a rule. Follow or be punished. He’d never punished anyone in his life, but the thought of punishing Angela…

  Good Lord, the thought of her stretched out before him, crying out as he heated her backside with his hand. Damn, he’d never been kinky with any female before, but the mere glimpse of heat in Angela’s eyes gave him some things to think about for later.

  “You sure we can’t test out the table?” he added as he put his palms against it and pushed on it a little.

  Angela laughed. “Not right now.” Then shot him a seductive look before preparing to walk from the room cool as a cucumber.

  “Aren’t you full of surprises this morning?”

  “Don’t worry it’s just the concussion.” She smirked before one of her people came back around the corner.

  “Ang, do you have the sketches ready for the new A-line lounge set you were working on?”

  She reached into her portfolio and pulled something out and handed them over.

  “I’m not certain on the pleating on the side so we might have to play with it a little bit for final production but I think the silhouette is nice. See what magic you can work.”

  “Will do. Nice to have you back in one piece.” She walked away while studying the drawings. “Hey, what color palette are we using for the fall show?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Don’t know yet, I’ll get back to you. Try it in a gray-and-white pinstripe to start with and we’ll go from there.”

  “’Kay.” And she was gone.

  “Who was that?” Clay asked as they continued walking to her office.

  “Nikki. She’s one of my pattern makers. I lured her away from Diane several years ago and she is worth her weight in gold.” Angela set her case down when they finally made it to her desk. Several other people had to question her about something he knew nothing about while they were on the way.

  “You love it, don’t you? The clothes, and the space, what you’ve built here…”

  She was quiet for a minute, peering around her office. “It’s all I’ve ever really wanted to do. It’s not just a job or a building. Each collection gets a piece of my soul, or my heart. I adore it. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  After a moment she looked up and took his hand, which he didn’t remember holding out to her. She snuggled against his chest and held on tight as he stroked her back, kneading her tight muscles.

  “I’m proud of you, you know? What you’ve created. It’s awesome, but I always knew you would conquer your own section of the world.”

  Her eyes were liquid when she leaned back to look up into his face. His thumbs and lips brushed them away.

  “So…” She backed away from him, but with a smile that lit up his corner of the world. “Who would you like to talk to first?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ve already reviewed the dossiers I had prepared several days before I arrived. Just one at a time and I’ll call them in.”

  “I guess Jose then, he’s my main cutter,” Angela added, trying not real hard to hide her amusement. “Oh, and can you use the conference room? The area is bigger, so hopefully they won’t feel as…intimidated as they might in a smaller space.”

  “Do you need anything before I get started?” he asked as he moved to stand in front of her, dying to put his hands on her again, but being good he kept them tucked back in his pockets.

  “No, I’m fine, I’ll just be working in here or on the main floor if you need me, and if you can’t find me, just grab Vanessa up front and she’ll page me.”

  “Was she the little wisp of a thing that was sitting at the front of the table with you?”

  “No, that’s Maddy. Vanessa is the tall blond that looks like a Sports Illustrated model.”

  He thought for a moment and then said, “What is Maddy, exactly?”

  “Kind of my second-in-command. Any time I have to leave she always fills in for me. I’m lucky to have her, too. She went to NYU the same time I did, but we didn’t meet until after we graduated and I’d started ANG.”

  “What about Vanessa? She looks more like a model, obviously, than a secretary.”

  “When I was still small and lucky enough to do Lincoln Center for the first time, she was one of my models. She was looking for a part-time job to fill in when the modeling gigs weren’t plentiful, and I was looking for a secretary. It has worked really great. She’s been with me for a couple years now.”

  “Well, after Jose, why don’t we move onto Vanessa then?” he suggested, already getting his head in work more.

  “Sure,” replied Angela with a knowing smile. “She’s gay too, so it should be perfect to interview them back to back.”<
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  Angela paged Jose to the conference room as she heard Clay say, “When in Rome.” He headed back toward the conference room, determined to start piecing the mystery together.

  Lunchtime crept up on them before Angela and Clay had a few minutes together to see each other. They sat together in her office, eating a bite of lunch, as he filled her in on the interviews he’d had so far.

  “I had background checks done on all of your people and I’m sure you already know they passed with flying colors. Well, except Jose. You know he owes quite a bit of child support, right?”

  “Ugh. Yes. Long story on that one. We’re working it out and taking it out of his check a bit at a time. Wyatt knows about it too, since they found it when they did their background checks. It’s not horrible right?”

  “If that’s the only skeleton in your peoples’ closets you’re really doing something. You have some good people working for you and the chemistry of everyone really seems to click. I wouldn’t mess with it unless I had a suspicion one of them was behind the attacks.”

  “They’re great people. I think the world of each of them and cherish them all.”

  After a short pause, Clay asked, “Hey, has anything happened here ever?”

  “Not a thing, other than this is where all of my mail is sent to, so all the photos and letters arrive here. But that’s it. Why?”

  “Just trying to piece it all together, see if there’s a pattern or anything else that would lead me to the right person. Well, the wrong person in this case. Oh, and the asshole called while you were asleep last night. I’ve already reported it to Detective Wyatt, but the asshole knew we were tracing the call and didn’t stay on long enough for us to get a trace.”

  “He’s getting smarter.”

  “You’re telling me. He knew my name and knew I was your security. It’s why I thought it was an inside job, but I forgot it was all over the news.”

  Angela opened her mouth to refute his claim again, but he held his hands up in defeat.

  “I’ve already told you, you have good people. And I should know, I’ve got their background checks memorized and all their personal info for the last three years, down to some very odd ink. You don’t have to defend them any longer.”

  “Good,” Angela replied, as Vanessa walked in.

  “Hey, Ness, how’s…”

  Her face was as white as ash and she held by the corner an all-too-familiar thick white envelope. Angela would bet it had no return address and was mailed from a different post office yet again.

  “Clay…” she managed to get out before her windpipe closed off as she reached for the envelope. Damn, she was so sick of being scared.

  “Don’t touch it, Angela. Vanessa, set it on the table. We need to clear the building. It could have a bomb in it.”

  Tears flowed down Vanessa’s cheeks. “It doesn’t.”

  Clay glared at her.

  “I was talking to someone else and I didn’t think. It was upside down and I didn’t see what it was. Who it was from, and I just slit it open. When I pulled everything out I realized what it was. I’m so sorry.” She set it on the table and covered her face with her hands. Soft sobs filled the room.

  Angela went to her and gathered her close. “It’s okay.”

  “She contaminated evidence, Angela.”

  “And I’ve done the same before,” she snapped at him. She closed her eyes. “Sorry. It’s been a long…few days.”

  “Don’t touch it. I’ll be right back.” His cell phone already up to his ear, asking the department to patch him through to Detective Wyatt as he strode from the room.

  Vanessa sat down on the edge of Angela’s desk and the two women held hands as they waited for him to return.

  Clay walked back in pulling on a pair of disposable gloves as he clutched a plastic bag. “I’m opening it to take pictures so we can study whatever’s in there. Wyatt already has someone in route to collect it.”

  “What a sick joke,” Angela mumbled.

  Vanessa sniffed, “Angela, do you want some privacy? I can tell everyone else that you needed a break and went to lie down and I’ll fend everyone off for a while?”

  Hate bubbled through her system that her employees, her friends were scared. “That’d be great, actually. Did you talk to anyone on the way up here? Anybody see that you had one of these?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “No, I came straight here and didn’t pass anyone on the way.”

  “Thanks for being discreet. Just tell them that I’m in a meeting for the next few and we’ll get this all taken care of. There’s no reason to worry everybody else if it’s not necessary.”

  Vanessa squeezed her hand one more time and left.

  Clay pulled tweezers from a black case he’d tucked under his arm. She’d missed it when he came in holding the bag.

  There were a ton of pictures printed on one piece of paper. One of her standing in the window of her loft in panties and a tank top the morning Mark dropped Clay in her lap. Pictures of her standing outside Meli Melo with Clay by her side. He was rubbing her arms, right before she walked off to go collect Mark. More of her at the coffee bar the morning of the attack.

  But even more of the bombing, before, and after she practiced flying.

  “So you were right. They were there, probably blended in with all the other photographers. No one would have even suspected.”

  Clay grunted his agreement. “On the phone just now, James confirmed the components were the same, so it definitely wasn’t a coincidence.”

  There were even pictures of them at the park the day before. They must have followed them from her apartment. It was the only explanation she could come up with since no one would have recognized her otherwise.

  Angela stared at the picture. At the profiles of herself and Clay sitting on the park bench, trying to see what the stalker saw. The picture showed Clay with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her face was still half covered with his hoodie and her sunglasses were hiding part of her damaged face, but they were staring at each other with such a fierce connection.

  “Oh man,” Angela stated mostly to herself. “Things are going to get complicated.”

  Maddy peeked her head in the door and said, “Angela, Diane is downstairs looking for a sample we had sitting on the counter and I can’t find it. Can you come help…?” She trailed off when she took in the mood of the group.

  “Did you get something?” she asked morosely as she took a step into Angela’s office.

  They nodded, and she noticed how Clay didn’t say much but took everything in.

  “What came?” Maddy asked with a frown as she took her place next to Angela.

  “Oh, just a goody package from my deranged creepo,” Angela answered.

  “Clay, did you see this?” Angela pointed at one of the pictures as she turned around, wondering when he had walked away. “Clay?” she asked again and then saw a white sheet of paper in one hand and the other hand clenched into a tight fist.

  Angela walked over to stand beside him. “What does it say?”

  A and C,

  Here’s a gift from me to you since my present for Angela didn’t live up to expectations last weekend.

  Just can’t tell you how surprised I was to see the relationship blooming between the two of you the past few days.

  Is there love in the air or was this some kind of reunion?

  Guess the cat’s about to be out of the bag.

  Photos will be printed in Blackmail tomorrow. A little present has already been sent to your dear brother.

  Stay out of LC in February, or everything you hold dear could end up in the New York Times.

  Page 17.

  Obituaries.

  TNT

  ’Til Next Time

  Angela read the letter again and finally sat down in her chair with a
whoosh.

  “This is really starting to piss me off,” Clay barked.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t worry about everything going on downstairs. I’ll handle it.” Maddy headed for the door.

  “No, Maddy, can you tell me when the NYPD shows up? An officer working with Detective Wyatt will be here in a little while to take these down to the precinct.”

  “Sure, Ang, whatever you need.” Within a minute she was out the door, taking the fearful look with her.

  After a moment of silence Clay explained, “I need you to take the phone out of my pocket and take pictures. I don’t want anything else contaminated if I can’t help it.”

  As if she watched herself do it, she took his phone out and took pictures of both pages, front and back. He slid everything back in the envelopes, then leaned against her desk. “We look intense in those photos.”

  After turning off his phone, she slid it back in his pocket and collapsed into her chair. “I don’t want my life on display, Clay. I don’t want reporters snooping around for a juicy story.”

  “I know.”

  “We can’t be seen in public like that again. We just can’t.”

  “I know,” he added tersely. “I’m sorry,” he bit out.

  “It’s not your fault, Clay. I’m not saying that it is.”

  “Oh, and it’s yours, Angela? None of this is your fault. I’m here to protect you and I’ve done nothing but get you blown up, and get your bruised face all over the news and now in the gossip mags. Fuck! And I’m not anywhere closer to finding out who’s behind it.”

  “We’ll have to talk to Mark tonight,” Angela decided, even though all she wanted to do was bury her head in the sand. “He won’t get the mail until after he gets home from work. I can’t have him curious and asking questions. I can’t deal with the big brother stuff on top of everything else. I should warn him.” She reached for her phone, her hands shaking, making it nearly impossible to push the right buttons. Clay took it from her and pushed the end button.

  Before Angela could utter more protests, Clay pulled her to her feet, and into his arms. “We’ll fix this, I promise,” he whispered to her.

  Some of the tension drained out of her body. Clay had some really wide shoulders, and for the first time she was glad she had shared everything with him and she was glad he was there. “I’ll call, Mark, and tell him what’s going on as soon as the officer leaves. Okay?”