by Tawny Weber
The harrumph came through the phone line loud enough that Spence was surprised it didn’t ruffle his hair.
“All the more reason for you to stay on point. I want that man kept away from my daughter.”
Spence could sympathize. He wanted the man away from Mia, too. But that wasn’t an actual mission.
“Have you determined the actual threat?” he asked, slightly desperate for something to focus on besides watching the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
“Using various resources at my disposal, I’ve instigated a level-two background check and, again, found no known intel linking this man to any crimes,”
It took all of Spence’s training not to protest. Years of service had developed his habit of trusting intel, of following orders and to bow to the chain of command. But instincts honed on the battlefield had taught him to trust his intuition over all else. And everything he had—training, instincts and intuition—said that with proof or not, the man was bad news.
Not just bad news for Mia.
Criminally bad news.
“Sir—”
Cade cut him off. “However, my original order stands. You are to use whatever means necessary to prevent any personal contact between that man and my daughter. Any means, Lloyd. Do you understand me?”
Torn between relief and tension, Spence could only grimace. As happy as he’d be to carry out those orders, he had to accept—bitterly—that in these circumstances, he was a civilian. Cade had warned him when he’d taken this assignment that those constraints meant he wouldn’t be able tap into the usual tools he’d accessed with the SEALs. No automatic weapons, no sanctioned takedowns, no covert attacks. He was on his own with nothing more than a pistol and his wits.
No question that Cade’s goal here was his daughter’s protection. But it was still a test. The man was watching Spence’s methods, waiting to see if he could assimilate his Navy training into the civilian-security realm before he recommended him to Aegis.
Good, Spence decided. He worked better under pressure. He’d just look at this as a new version of Hell Week and kick ass. Just like he had in BUD/s, testing to become a SEAL.
As the tempo of the music slowed, shifting dancers off the floor, Spence watched Alcosta stare at Mia with a feral hunger, and nodded. Yeah. He’d do whatever it took to keep them from getting personal.
But...
“I’ll keep her safe and ensure that any contact she has with Alcosta is business only.” Hearing Cade gear up his protest, Spence pointed out, “You said it yourself, sir. According to the known intel, the man is clean. If she’s planning to work with him, Mia will know that. Which means that any overt interference in her business will be problematic. I’ve established myself as her aid. So it shouldn’t be a problem to finesse my way into any business interactions she has with him.”
“Business?”
“Business and personal,” Spence corrected.
“Very well. I’ll provide the necessary support to your cover and will pull some strings, call in some favors and see what I can do to pull in deeper intel. But you’re on the front lines, Lloyd. You are to assess the situation, mitigate the threat and, most of all, to keep my daughter safe. That means you stick to her side like glue.”
“Yes, sir.” Spence hesitated, not quite comfortable with deceiving Cade’s daughter to such an extent. As if reading his concern, the admiral harrumphed.
“You have your orders, Lloyd. Carry on.”
The line went dead. Not bothering to sigh, Spence shoved his phone in his pocket again and strode into the crowd.
He’d only made it three steps before Clair grabbed on to him like a barnacle.
“There you are,” she declared, wrapping her arms around his so she could press her breasts against his biceps. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“Sorry. I’m busy right now.”
“Too busy to dance?”
Absolutely.
“I need to check with Mia. I’m sure there’s something she needs me to do,” he added before Clair could object. “Hey, she is the boss. Gotta do the job, right?”
“I wouldn’t think a big, strong man like you would like taking orders from a woman.”
“I live to follow orders,” he deadpanned, giving her an absent smile. “If you’ll excuse me.”
* * *
Spence gave himself a moment to breath deeply her scent, roses at midnight, before clearing his throat. She spun around fast enough that her skirt slapped at his legs, sending that little wrapped-in-a-sheet fantasy he’d had into full gear again as he imagined the garment hitting the floor.
“Oh. Spence. Hi.” Those full lips spread into a smile edged with nerves. The same nerves danced in her eyes.
Why?
“Everything okay?”
“Sure. Fine. Just, you know, winding into phase three,” she said with a wave of her hand. Phase three, he remembered, was the fancy dinner part of the evening’s event. “I was just thinking I should talk with you, though.”
“Here I am. Let’s talk.”
She opened her mouth, but after a few seconds, closed it and shook her head. “Bad timing. Let’s ensure phase three goes smoothly, and then I’ll fill you in.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, no. I’ve already explained to Lorraine that I’ll miss the meal because I’ll be handling some behind-the-scenes tasks. She can handle it just fine. She’s a skilled hostess, and has a strict code about soliciting funds during meals. And she has Clair as backup. So she won’t need me in there.”
“And me?”
Mia slanted him an amused look and arched one brow.
“I’m guessing Clair would say she needs you in a number of places. If you want to join her for dinner, there is an open seat available.”
“I’d rather grab something to eat with you in the kitchen.” Or anywhere else, for that matter.
“Oh, I never eat at these things. I’m always too amped up to try to put anything in my stomach.”
“And if you were sitting with that crowd at the dining table?”
“I’d pretend to eat while chatting up everyone within speaking distance,” Mia said, laughing as she gave a self-deprecating shrug. “But this evening, I think my time will be better served elsewhere.”
She studied the room, and he noticed a tiny frown between her brows when her eyes landed on Alcosta. Probably because the guy was wearing jeans and a sweater instead of black tie. He was obviously not one of Mia’s subcontractors. Had he crashed the event?
Alcosta’s expression was somewhere between indifferent and annoyed.
Mia, on the other hand, looked outraged.
Gauging her mood, he blocked her path before she could storm over to kick the intruder out.
“That guy, Alcosta, right? What’s his story?”
He figured the wide-eyed look Mia gave him was meant to be questioning, like she didn’t know what he was getting at. He was sure of it when she only smiled and said, “He’s a client. A very prestigious client who rightfully expects not to be accosted at an exclusive event.”
Actually, Spence thought, the guy looked like he deserved to be accosted at all kinds of events. But he kept that to himself.
“Who’s the guy with him? He looks intense.” Intense, pissed, pushy. Pretty much all three rolled into one, Spence decided, watching the other man wave his hands to emphasize some point. From his one-shouldered shrug, Alcosta didn’t seem to care. Which only pissed the guy off more.
“I don’t know who that man is,” Mia replied, biting the words off between clenched teeth. “But I do know he doesn’t belong here.”
She’d managed two steps toward the confrontation before Spence grabbed her. Since her arm felt like silk beneath his hand, he let it go as soon as she met his eyes. “I need to tell him to leave. He isn’t on the guest list, he didn’
t pay and he’s clearly annoying one of our guests.”
Right. Like Spence was going to let her go head-to-head with a guy who was obviously pissed, probably confrontational and possibly dangerous.
“I’ll handle this,” Spence assured her, adrenaline spiking. He was looking forward to it. A little confrontation, the potential for a fight, a chance to poke into Alcosta’s life? Yeah. He was looking forward to all of that.
“But—”
“Leave it to me.”
* * *
Leave it to me?
Those words echoed in her head while Mia did what Mia did best. Organize, maneuver and entertain, all with a charming smile.
The smile was hard to hold in place, though, with all the thoughts of Spence that were racing around in her head. She watched, wide-eyed, as he strode toward those arguing men, determination and strength clear in his every step. Enough determination and strength that he barely made it halfway across the room before the gate-crasher caught sight of him. One look at Spence, and the guy scowled, jabbed his finger toward Alcosta’s chest one last time, then hightailed it out the door.
She held her breath when Spence followed. Held it until she was dizzy. It wasn’t until she caught sight of Lorraine sending a critical stare her way that Mia forced herself to exhale and, more important, get back to work.
It was silly to worry, she told herself as she signaled to the waitstaff to open the dining room doors. Then after Lorraine announced the meal, she helped usher guests out of the ballroom.
This was a charity ball. Not a seedy bar.
But that man wasn’t on the guest list. So what was he doing here? Definitely not checking out the art.
Lorraine didn’t believe in ruining the ambiance of events with any sort of security system and used her own people to welcome guests at the entrance and ensure they kept crashers—or as Lorraine put it, cheapskates—out. Still, Mia made a mental note to research security options for upcoming events.
Her lips quirked as the thought of how intimidating Spence had been striding across the room flashed through her mind.
She could probably hold off researching security while she had a man like that around. He was an entire security force in and of himself.
Smiling and chatting, she subtly ushered the guests toward dinner, all the while wondering where he was. How long did it take to shove someone out the doors and warn them to stay out?
Focus on your job, she ordered herself. Spence was a big boy. No, correction. He was a big, strong, gorgeous man. One who practically oozed control and power. She didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t disrupt the event, didn’t upset any guests and, most especially, didn’t offend any of her potential clients.
Speaking of potential clients, Mia figured it wouldn’t hurt to check in with Señor Alcosta, smooth any ruffled feathers, make sure all of his thoughts about this evening—and more important, about her skills as an event coordinator—were upbeat and positive.
She worked her way through the crowd, sharing a friendly word here and a compliment there as she made her way toward her goal. But as she reached the wide glass doors leading to the dining room, she saw Alcosta offer Lorraine that charming smile of his as he pulled out the chair on the other side of him for Clair.
A little of the tension drained from her shoulders. Okay, this was good.
A win-win.
Lorraine and Clair would entertain Alcosta, hopefully keeping him happy enough that he would forget the jerk in the ballroom. And giving Lorraine this time with Alcosta would be one more jewel in Mia’s coordination-queen crown, proving yet again that anything the client wanted, Mia made happen.
Mia took another few minutes to ensure that Lorraine and all of her guests were satisfactorily settled, their chatter a loud hum over the duet of cutlery hitting china and the string trio.
Then she got back to work.
The same nerves that snapped in her stomach echoed in her voice as she instructed the staff to tidy the ballroom, replenish the bar and reset the seating.
Then Spence stepped through the double doors at the far end of the ballroom.
“What happened?” she asked, hurrying so fast across the marble floor that she almost slipped again. “Are you okay? Who was that man? And what took so long?”
“Nothing happened. I’m fine. I wasn’t able to apprehend the intruder or discover his identity, as he went through a series of side doors to a running vehicle in what appears to be a prearranged exit strategy.” Both frustration and disgust shimmered in Spence’s eyes for a moment before he blinked them away and continued in that same official tone. “Not knowing the intruder’s purpose, I deemed it prudent to do a search of the building and the perimeter. Other than a pair of drunks getting it on in the ladies’ room on the far side of the building, all’s five by five.”
Five by five?
She knew that expression. It was military speak that meant that everything was fine. Mia’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as she asked, “Do you have experience with the military?”
Spence blinked. He ran one long-fingered hand through his hair, then gave her a curious smile.
“Why would you think that?”
“The way you answer questions. Those short, specific responses answered in perfect order.” Not to mention the way he’d taken charge and his search of the perimeter.
He frowned, silent for a second, as if replaying his words in his head. Then he shrugged.
“I’m not in the military,” he said, sounding honest enough that Mia didn’t feel comfortable pressing the issue. “I’m experienced working security. Am actually waiting to hear on a new security position, as a matter of fact.”
Oh.
Ignoring the disappointment sinking in her belly, Mia nodded. “So that’s why you’re volunteering? Something temporary until you hear about the new job?”
“In part,” he agreed, sliding his fingers along her arm. Tingling little jolts of awareness shot lust through her system, making Mia want to lean in for more before she realized they were in the bartender’s path as he tried to wheel a dolly of cartons through.
“Let’s get out of the way,” Spence said, gesturing toward the patio doors.
She stepped out onto the patio just ahead of him and breathed in the chilly night air so the scent of jasmine wrapped around her. Portable heaters stood every few feet, offering an oasis of warmth amid the cool evening. Chairs, deeply cushioned and welcoming, were grouped in welcome.
But Mia ignored them. She wasn’t looking for comfort right now. Instead, she walked toward the low wrought-iron fence that hugged the patio on two sides. The ornate curlicues and twists of metal reached her waist and blended with the soft blackness of her dress as she turned to face Spence.
Behind him, she had a clear view of the ballroom and, more important, of the closed dining doors beyond. She could gauge the progress, be on hand and get information at the same time.
With the light behind him, Spence’s face was shadowed. The darkness seemed to leech away that slick, sleek gentlemanly veneer, leaving only raw male power. Mia gave herself a second to adjust to the change, struggled to ignore how much she wanted to reach out. To run her fingers through his hair. To rub her palms over his shoulders, down his chest. To press herself against that strong, hard body, just to see how it felt.
“In part?” she forced herself to say, picking up their conversation again, both to quiet the sudden, desire-spiked nerves dancing in her belly and because she really wanted the rest of the information. “What are the other parts of why you’ve come to work for me?”
He took a second before answering. Mia couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt his stare. She had to force herself not to fidget under the assessing weight of it.
“Most of my work, security and otherwise, has been pretty down and dirty. I need to up my game, learn the ins and outs of working
with people in a variety of social elements. Like this one. You’ve got the creative and eccentric artists, you’ve got servers and staff, and high-society muckety-mucks. Like that guy, Alcosta. I’ll bet that’s a guy who understands the need for security. If he was doing a party like this, he’d want to know it was covered tight.”
“If that’s one of his priorities, the fact that someone waltzed right in here and accosted him didn’t make a very good impression,” Mia pointed out, tapping her fingers on the railing as the worry took hold.
“Actually, I see it working in your favor. I scoped the setup prior to the event. Providing security, what there was of it, is firmly in Forever Families’ list of responsibilities. So that guy getting in is on them,” he pointed out, stabbing his thumb over his shoulder toward the ballroom. “On your side, though? The minute you saw that intruder, you took steps.”
“You took steps,” she muttered. “And you didn’t catch him.”
“I ejected him all the same,” Spence said stiffly, insult practically dripping from his words. “Which Alcosta saw. Bottom line, that’s the kind of thing that makes you look good.”
“Okay. Okay,” she decided, her fingers now smoothing down the fabric of her dress instead of tapping out worry. “You’re right. This is a good thing. I can work this to my favor. I can weave it into my pitch on Monday, too.”
“Pitch?”
“Mmm,” she murmured, mentally revising her presentation outline. “Alcosta has hired me to create a series of events to raise funds for a children’s hospital. I’ll give my final pitch in a couple of days.”
“And you’re going to incorporate security into the mix?”
“I think it’d be a strong selling point and add an air of exclusivity and panache to the entire presentation. I’d need you to take point on all of the security, obviously. And to commit to working with me until the end of the events. What do you think? Can you stick around and work with me for the next month or so?”
Even as Mia told herself that this was a business discussion, the silly, giddy, crushing-on-him-big-time, way-too-hot-for-a-guy-she-barely-knew part of herself held her breath.