by Lori Foster
“How are you, Webb?” As if a life wasn’t held in the balance, he put his arm over Webb’s shoulders and walked him a few steps away. “Tesh,” he said in his soft Southern drawl, “join us.”
Without a word, Tesh trailed them to the back of the stable. A horse shuffled, stomped the floor and whinnied. Another gave a soft nicker. The senator owned many horses.
He also owned many people. Webb didn’t want to be one of them, but how to extricate himself and still live?
With a measure of privacy between them and the bodyguards who stood at the entrance of the stables, they stopped.
Smile fading, pale eyes narrowing, Platt said with soft menace, “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his mouth with a hand gnarled by arthritis. “You need to find out.”
The pleasantly implied “or else” made his muscles flinch.
Webb tried not to shift uneasily; Platt fed off fear. It was there in his eyes, watching for a sign, hoping for it. “I’ve done what I know to do.” The rest is up to you, Catalina. “You heard me on the phone with Body Armor. You were there, so you know I spoke to Sahara Silver herself. I insisted as much as I dared, but I don’t think she knows any more than I do.” Such a lie. “Even if she did, I can’t force her to tell me.”
“No,” Platt said, his condescension gentle. “I suppose a man of your limited means can only do so much.”
Limited means? Webb took the hit rather than attempt to refute it. Compared to Platt, he was a pauper.
“I have news,” Tesh announced.
Webb froze, not breathing, not moving.
“Two men went to Catalina’s house to check on things.”
“They found her?” Platt asked, lighting up with pleasure.
Webb waited in agony.
“No, sir. Sorry. She wasn’t there.”
As carefully and quietly as he could, Webb let out a tense breath. What men? He had his own crew keeping up with his daughter’s home, ensuring neighbors didn’t get suspicious by keeping her yard maintained, her bills paid. To anyone who had asked, they’d offered up the excuse that Catalina was away for a family emergency.
If the current catastrophe didn’t count, he didn’t know what would.
But he hadn’t sent anyone lately, and it was news to Platt, so who had sent them?
Tesh explained, saying, “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a look around.”
“We’d done that,” Platt said.
“Yeah, but in case she’d returned or anything, I wanted to know.”
“So you could bring her to me.” Platt nodded. “Ah, good. Go on. I sense there’s more.”
“The same man who sucker punched me also leveled them.” Tesh touched the bridge of his nose, maybe in remembered pain. “He punches like a fucking sledgehammer, and he’s fast.”
“He killed them?”
“That’s the really messed-up part. See, he stripped them down to their shorts, bound their hands and feet, and tossed them outside in the snow.”
Good God. Webb waited to see what the senator would do.
Staring at Tesh, Platt made a strangled sound that might have been a chortle. It came again, blossoming more and more until he laughed out loud. “Genius,” he crowed with pleasure. “Damn, I wish I could have seen the men. Did they die of exposure?”
Tesh shook his head. “Once they got loose, they jacked some old minivan. Had to drive home in their boxers. My understanding is that they have some frostbite, their wrists are stripped raw from fighting out of the restraints, but they’ll be okay.”
Still chuckling, Platt said, “Get rid of them.”
“Sir?”
“They’re obviously useless, except for a laugh.” He smiled. “I like this bodyguard you hired for your daughter, Webb. I really do. The man is inventive.”
“Apparently.” More so than Webb ever could have known.
Glancing at Tesh, Platt said, “Maybe it’s time we visited Ms. Silver. What do you think?”
“Consider it done.”
“Report back to me.” He patted Webb on the shoulder. “And see that our friend gets home safely. It wouldn’t do for anything to happen to him. He’s the most direct solution to our problem.”
The senator walked away, talking softly to the horses, pausing to stroke a few, before joining the armed detail and exiting the stable.
Webb’s knees shook and he thought he might puke. “The men he told you to kill—”
“Would likely have hurt Catalina if they’d found her. You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t have come along without a fuss.”
True. Catalina had always been different. He’d never realized quite how much until recently.
“C’mon,” Tesh said, leading the way out.
As he had for weeks now, Webb did as told. What choice did he have?
Once in the car, Tesh started the engine but didn’t pull away. “I’m going to get Catalina.”
Webb had no idea what to say to that.
“If you repeat this, I’ll kill you.”
Nodding seemed to be answer enough.
“After I get her,” Tesh said, “she’ll be mine. Do you understand?”
Not even a little.
“She won’t be a problem to the senator or to you. She’ll be my problem. I promise. So if you do learn anything, let me know. I’ll take care of it, and you can finally get on with your life.”
“All right,” Webb agreed slowly, even while wondering: Would Tesh protect her, enslave her or would he cut her throat?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LEESE RETURNED HER gun to her.
That simple act of faith still astounded her.
While she’d been putting away her clothes in the guest bedroom, he’d walked in and given it to her. It was hers, so that made sense. But by handing it over without a fuss, he showed that he trusted her. At least, that’s how she chose to take it.
The only thing he’d said was, “You know how to shoot it?”
She’d replied, “I took a class, and then I spent a few weeks at the shooting range practicing. I wouldn’t say I’m a great shot, but I know how to load it, shoot it and clean it.”
“Good enough.” He’d also given her the ammunition that went with it, then left her to decide where to keep the gun.
It went back in the nightstand drawer next to where she slept, which was beside him. Every night.
The lockbox was safely hidden where neither Leese nor anyone else would easily see it.
Every time she thought about it, it mortified her all over again. Like he’d said, she was hardly the only woman with a battery-operated-boyfriend, but that didn’t make it any easier. Her romantic involvements had been few and far between, never serious, and she’d definitely never discussed anything so incredibly private with a man.
Not that Leese was anything like other men. Not in any way.
Everything about him was wonderful: his incredible good looks, his intelligence, his sense of humor and his patience. But it was his trust that she appreciated the most.
The thought of ever betraying that trust made her stomach churn with regret, but if she needed to run to protect him, at least now she’d be armed.
She’d also have some of her own clothes—another bonus.
Not that she anticipated taking off. So far, the setup worked perfectly for her. In fact, other than missing her job and knowing her life could end at any moment if she was found, she was happier than she’d ever been.
She felt a connection to Leese unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And that had led her to another decision.
It was a big “if,” but if they found a way to resolve her problems, could she and Leese possibly have a real rela
tionship? Once he no longer had to protect her, would he consider dating? Without the threats surrounding them, without her secrets as a wall, with no barriers at all between them.
She hoped so.
Multiple times she thought about asking him. But for some reason, she held back. He’d taken on enough responsibility without her possibly making it awkward. Out of necessity, they were insulated together in the penthouse, shielded from the outside world and the usual day-to-day interactions with work, family, friends. If she screwed up—and with her record, that wasn’t exactly a long shot—their remaining time together could be miserable. She didn’t want that.
So instead of speaking her mind, as was her norm, she reined in the emotions and just enjoyed the next three days. Since Leese didn’t leave her, it was easy to do.
While counting down their time to the end of the weeklong agreement, Cat lived in a deceptive cocoon of happiness. Leese taught her some fight moves, making them more exciting by occasionally kissing her once he had her pinned down. She never knew which type of kiss to expect—a soft smooch, a quick peck, a teasing nuzzle or a full-blown eating kiss that left her wanting so much more.
Whenever he allowed her the upper hand, she kissed him and her choice always involved heat and tongues and lots of body contact.
As promised, he’d also run her through multiple drills, going over every possible scenario.
If intruders got into the building, what to do.
If anyone made his way into the suite, what to do.
If Leese got taken—a scenario she hated—what to do.
“I don’t expect any of that to happen,” he’d told her, “but on the off chance it does, I don’t want to leave you unprepared.” Then he’d taken her through the numerous drills again.
Whenever he worked out in the gym she joined him, but she went by a workout plan he’d drawn up for her. Already she felt a bit stronger, definitely faster, and there was something very satisfying, very calming about exercise. Funny she’d never realized that before.
At least twice a day, Leese cooked while she sat at the bar and talked with him about anything and everything. She ate each meal with appreciation, then helped with cleanup.
While he did research online or spoke privately with Sahara, she sketched.
And each night he held her close.
When it all ended, she’d miss that the most, the warmth and comfort of sleeping in his arms, knowing she was safe, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek.
Somehow she had to convince him that they could continue a relationship outside this tragic circumstance.
It was late afternoon when they returned from a workout, and Cat was thinking of how to broach the topic. It was never easy to think after an hour or more of seeing Leese in only shorts.
If he didn’t give in to her soon, she was likely to go nuts.
“Leese...”
He paused on his way to the kitchen with their refillable water bottles. His gaze moved over her and he asked, “You okay? Muscles sore again?”
Ever since she’d overdone it, he checked on her often. She regretted that he felt the need. “No, I’m fine.” She’d be better if he gave up abstinence, but still... “I was just thinking, maybe we could—”
The intercom buzzed, interrupting her.
“Hold that thought.” With his T-shirt sticking to his back, the ends of his hair damp with sweat, Leese went to the door and pushed the button.
Sahara came through loud and clear, saying, “I’m heading up to see you in five minutes. I didn’t want to take you by surprise.”
“Anything wrong?” he immediately asked.
“Not at all. I have a few party dresses I want Cat to take a look at...and a few other things to discuss.”
It was the last part that had Leese going into bodyguard mode. “Make it ten.” He locked his gaze on Cat. “We just left the gym and we both need to shower.”
“I’ll see you in ten.”
The second he disconnected, Cat squawked. “I can’t be ready in ten minutes!” She forgot all about her proposed conversation, and so did Leese.
He strode past her. “I can. Go ahead and take whatever time you need. I’ll let Sahara in.”
Suspicious, Cat wondered if he’d done that on purpose, ensuring he’d have time to talk privately with Sahara. It appeared so. Well, she’d thwart that plan. Whatever news Sahara had, Cat deserved to hear it too.
She all but raced into the guest bedroom, grabbed clothes to wear and ran into the bathroom. Unfortunately, sweat left her hair lank so she had to wash it, and that took more precious minutes.
After wrapping a towel around her head, she dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled socks onto her feet and rushed back down the hall to the living room.
Sahara was already there, seated on the sofa with Leese in a chair pulled close across from her. Their knees almost touched.
Before they noticed her, Cat picked up on the conversation.
“My PI has men who’ve been watching her stepfather’s house. Discreetly, of course. He’s already had a few rendezvous with this Tesh Coleman character.” Sahara gave a delicate shiver. “That one is like a badly drawn cartoon villain, he’s so clichéd.”
Cat agreed. There was something very wrong with Tesh and the way he’d always focused on her.
“However, as far as my man can tell, Webb Nicholson has never visited Désir Island. In fact, for the past two years, each of his trips is well documented, and he has a rigorous business and social schedule that occupies his time at home.”
Leese braced his hands on his thighs. “Time that can be confirmed with alibis?”
“Many alibis,” Sahara confirmed. “Her stepfather is a very busy man. Interestingly enough, he’s also very generous.”
“Generous how?”
“He supports several charities, and it doesn’t appear that he’s motivated simply by the tax write-offs. He gets personally involved.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “Visiting a boys’ home, purchasing and dropping off books to hospice patients, helping to build an on-site clinic at the local animal shelter.”
So Webb had continued with her mother’s work? Out of love, Cat wondered, or a sense of duty?
Or did he actually care as much about those in need as her mother always had?
Leese wasn’t impressed. “So maybe we should saint him.”
Laughing at the sarcasm, Sahara said, “Let’s not go that far. After all, he is associated with Tesh Coleman. There’s no denying that.”
“I did some research on Coleman.” Leese pitched his voice low. “His profile is genuine, but his reputation doesn’t mesh with any real business. Word is, he’s more of a cleanup man.”
Cat barely stifled a gasp. Leese had been poking into Tesh’s history? Dear God. She hadn’t known that, and now that she did, icy apprehension rolled down her spine, making her tremble all over.
She had to trust that Leese knew how to cover his tracks, because if not, Tesh would be coming for her; she knew that deep down in her soul. And since Leese stood in his way...
No! She wouldn’t let him be hurt because of her. If it came to that, somehow she’d figure out another way.
“A lot of powerful men have hired Tesh,” Leese continued. “Some straight up, some more quietly. He’s known as a problem-solver, the guy you bring onboard when you want to make something go away.”
Sahara gave that some thought. “He must be successful, given the men who hire him. My PI said that he stays in high demand.”
“Who is your PI?”
“A very trustworthy person. That’s all you need to know.” She followed that rebuke with an explanation. “I, too, need to keep some things private.”
Leese gave her a long look, then let it go. “So
me of what Coleman does is legit, probably as cover. If you do an aboveboard job here and there, it helps to hide the dirt, blood and bodies.”
Knowing he was right, Cat wrapped her arms around herself. Tesh was the undertaker...and he’d always seemed obsessed with her.
Sahara patted Leese’s tense forearm. “We’re looking into it, I promise. Anyone Tesh might be associated with, who he’s dedicated to, visited and who he occasionally works for. But given his discretion, that’s going to take more time. Somehow it’s all related.”
Leese gave a grim nod. “Cat, Tesh, Webb...the truth.”
“I sense Webb Nicholson is the weakest link, our best bet at finding answers. He’s cagey when he leaves the house, having his driver do a lot of evasive moves so that he’s difficult to follow without being obvious. But eventually we’ll figure it out.”
On the arm of the chair, Leese’s hand curled into a fist. “He’s cagey because he has something to hide.”
“Possibly,” Sahara agreed. “But many wealthy people are the same. Guarding their privacy is important to them, which is one reason Body Armor gets so much business. We, too, can be discreet.” Turning smug, Sahara said, “Our loyalty is part of what will carry us through. The villains in this play have power, but so do I.”
“Powerful clients?”
She smiled. “I’ve done high-profile work, and I’ve kept some jobs very quiet. People owe me favors, and when necessary, they’ll gladly repay.”
Somehow, Cat knew that while Sahara might have done some things very secretly, she’d never accepted a job to hurt others.
Without looking convinced, Leese said, “Keep me posted on whatever you find.”
“There’s one more thing.”
Wondering if she could deal with more, Cat eased farther around the wall, ensuring she could see them both and that she wouldn’t miss a single word.
“It’s possible that the agency is being watched. Not visibly,” Sahara explained, “but from the cover of other businesses.”
“High windows,” Leese confirmed.
“Yes. Tall, adjacent buildings make it pretty easy to spy.”
Biting back the groan, Cat put a hand to her heart. So even here, in this sanctuary, she couldn’t hide. She couldn’t open the curtains, couldn’t enjoy the balcony...