Finally, alone.
She was exhausted from being up all night, then arguing with the studio executives about Chance accompanying her to Mexico, and everything in between. She’d excused herself from the current, deadly discussion that was going on back in the conference room. Everyone would assume she was just going to the ladies’ room. Chance wouldn’t follow, as it was only down the hall, and he had already secured the floor.
She had barely a few minutes to make her escape before they caught on.
She’d changed her flight online that morning and had scheduled a car to come get her; it should be waiting out back. Ready to take her to the airport and away from all of this craziness.
Ana wasn’t the studio’s property; she wasn’t anyone’s property. She ran her own life, her way. While it had been lucky to have Chance there the night before when she discovered the note in her apartment, he was not coming home with her.
Gathering up her things, Ana left the dressing room unnoticed and dashed for the emergency exit, where she would be in the car and on a jet heading south before they could figure out where she’d gone. She’d be home before nightfall.
Once she was on the plane, she would text to let them know that she was safe and bid them adios.
It had been snowing all morning, and she paused for a moment as the brisk air cooled her skin. Taking a deep breath and letting the stress go, she stared up at the steel-gray sky, soon to be replaced by the rich blue of her homeland. She couldn’t wait.
The car was there, not twenty feet away, and she hurried to it, letting herself in and collapsing back into the luxurious seat as she closed her eyes.
“Let’s go,” she said and didn’t bother opening her eyes as the car rolled forward, out onto the road.
The studio people would have a fit, but she could care less. What would they do? Fire her? Maybe they’d be doing her a favor. She’d been ready to scream every time one of them talked to her in their overly solicitous, pandering tone. They kept saying all they wanted was to keep her safe, when in reality, all they wanted was to protect the money she made for them. The more profitable the show became, the more control they tried to exert. When she was home, she could think about what she wanted to do next.
Her contract was up after this season. It had been a given that she would renew her contract. Plans were already in progress for the third season, but doubt flickered somewhere in the back of her mind. Sitting with Chance, watching her old show the night before, she wondered if she really could keep doing this. But what else would she do?
Go back to producing a cooking show of her own? Write books? Open a restaurant?
Those options had all crossed her mind, and somewhere, in the back of the fog of ambition, perhaps, someday, a man. A husband. Children.
Ana shook her head. She did regret ditching Chance, which would no doubt make him look incompetent and earn him censure from the studio. He would certainly be fired, and that bothered her deeply. But it couldn’t be helped. He’d be fine, she was sure. He was good at his job, and she couldn’t be the first client to refuse protection.
Ana hated doing this to him, but it was the position she had been put in. She’d find a way to apologize later. Maybe if they had met some other way, some other time, she might have enjoyed knowing him. When he’d touched her, the warmth from his hands had seeped down to her bones, setting off an answering response in her blood. It had been a while since that had happened. If he had been anyone else, maybe she would have invited him back to her bed last night.
A nice thought. Too late now.
Sighing again, Ana opened her eyes and frowned as she took in the route.
“This is not the way to the airport,” she said, sitting upright in alarm.
No response from the driver. Fear clenched in her belly as she leaned forward.
“Where are we going? I demand you take me to the airport,” she said, finding her phone. “I’m calling the police,” she told the man driving the car and started to dial.
“No need for that, Ana. I’ve got you covered.”
The voice was all too familiar, and as he readjusted the rearview mirror and took off the driver’s cap, Ana’s eyes widened as they met Chance’s familiar green ones.
“How could you—” she sputtered.
“I paired my cell phone to yours last night when I gave you my number. I watched as you changed your plans this morning. Clever. You might want to let them know you’re okay before they call out the troops, though,” he said easily, returning his attention to the road.
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the airport.”
“No, it’s not. It wasn’t a bad idea to change your flight, actually, seeing as someone was in your apartment, and your flight schedule was on your desk. But I have an even better plan. It’ll be fine. You’ll enjoy it. Trust me,” he said and hit the gas, speeding them down the highway.
Ana was shaking with so much fury, frustration and so many other emotions that she couldn’t name that words deserted her, as did her hope of going home alone and leaving all of this behind for a few weeks. How could she truly leave, let it all go, with a bodyguard dogging her every step? And how was she going to explain him to her mother? Her family?
Her fiancé?
She watched sullenly as they turned down a dirt road that led to a small airport and pulled into a hangar where a man waited for them, obviously having been preparing the small turboprop plane that he was standing beside. A plane painted in gray cammo.
Chance shot her a look. “Wait here.”
He got out of the car and, this time, opened the back, grabbing her bags and tossing them to the other man. Ana got out of the car and followed.
“Thanks, Don, for getting her ready on such short notice,” Chance said to the other man.
“No problem, Chance. I was out here doing some other work already. Glad to help,” he said with a smile aimed at Ana.
Chance stepped between them, blocking Don’s view and not bothering to introduce her. Ana stepped around him, holding out her hand, starting to say hello.
Chance took her elbow and turned her away, saying something else to Don over his shoulder as they walked out.
“What is the matter with you? That was rude!” she said, pulling her elbow away.
“I told you to stay in the car, first off. Don is trustworthy, but the fewer people who know who you are or that you were even here, the better.”
Ana took a deep breath, trying to hold her temper. Maybe she could reason with him.
“Cut the Jason Bourne act. Don’t you think this is taking things a little too far? I doubt my stalker has the kind of reach or ambition to follow me home. I’ll be fine. Please, just take me to the airport and leave me be.”
Chance turned on her, his light green eyes burning into hers. He was dead serious, she could see.
“You’d be surprised what determined people are willing to do when they want something badly enough. Take my word for it. And don’t worry about being rude. Don isn’t offended. He knows the score.”
“Is he the pilot?”
Chance smiled. They approached the tarmac as the engine of the small plane came to life behind them. Don rolled it out of the hangar, and they watched as it came to a stop.
“No. I am. It’s my plane. I flew it up here last night from Philly.”
Ana saw her hopes of visiting in Mexico alone vanish. As the engines of the plane became too loud for them to say anything, Ana growled in frustration, the sound lost in the noise. It looked as if she was stuck with Chance Berringer, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
CHANCE HAD TO ADMIT THAT he was a little gleeful at being able to take the King Air—a plane that he had refurbished completely on his own—for a long flight. He hadn’t had the chance to do that in a while. Taking Ana to Mexico was an added perk to the job, and he could even bill the production company for the expense. Sweet.
Being cozied into the little space with Ana for several
hours wasn’t any hardship, either, even if she was a bit high maintenance.
Chance could handle that. He loved things that were fast, dangerous and presented a challenge. Sliding a look to where Ana’s skirt had brushed up higher on her thigh, he knew she wouldn’t disappoint on any of those points.
But she was also in trouble, whether she wanted to admit it or not. It wasn’t unusual for people to rail against protection. No one wanted their privacy invaded to the degree that bodyguards often had to insert themselves into a person’s life. And the loss of control was harder for some to handle than others. Chance could relate—he didn’t like losing control of a situation,
either, and for that reason, he didn’t plan to let anything happen to Ana Perez.
And if she wasn’t just flat-out one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, she was also fascinating. He’d read and researched her background well into the night and had never met anyone quite like her.
Ana had grown up in the small village of Hatsutsil, just outside of the larger Yucatán city of Mérida. Chance spoke decent Spanish, having spent four years in high school studying and several vacations in Central America, but he didn’t know much about the Mayan people.
“So do you speak Mayan at home?” he asked as he checked the controls and did his preflight routine. It would be a long flight if they wouldn’t speak to each other.
“There is no such thing,” she said, arms crossed in front of her and her eyes straight ahead. Still pissed.
“What do you mean?”
She frowned but then answered his question. “Most of what my family speaks is called Yucatec Maya, one version of Mayan, but largely they also speak Spanish and most are proficient to some degree in English.”
“I thought Maya was how the group of people is referred to? The language, as well?”
“Mayan is a class of languages—like Italian and Spanish are Romance languages. There are many variations within Mayan. Maya is how we refer to our people. You won’t have any trouble finding that most people speak and understand English.”
Chance nodded, silent as he signaled Don and then started down the runway.
“Good to know. Anything else I should know about the people or the area so that I don’t put my foot in my mouth?” he asked in Spanish this time.
She looked at him, seeming surprised at the question.
“You will be fine. And you may not be there long, after all.”
“We’ll see,” he said with a smile, enjoying the thrill as the small plane lifted into the bleak winter sky and he banked southwest, taking them away from New York.
What he also knew from her file was that she had funneled most of her earnings back into the village, building schools, security and small businesses. She’d made her hometown stronger and less of a target for crime, including that which resulted from local drug wars.
Ana was mistaken if she thought she would shake him once they were down in Mexico, if for no other reason than he had discovered her name mentioned twice in recent chatter about possible kidnappings. Of course they knew she was coming home, and it wasn’t unusual for celebrities and people who had money to become targets for a number of groups in that part of the world.
“You may be mistaken about being in danger in Mexico,” he said, floating the idea for her consideration. “There have been some rumors about possible kidnappings. I have a friend in the FBI who gave me a heads-up.”
To Chance’s surprise, Ana laughed.
“That’s funny?”
“Not funny, just not unusual. There are always threats for kidnapping. And worse. I don’t pay any attention to that,” she said dismissively.
“You’re not worried?”
She looked him directly in the eye. “No. We grew up with the drug runners terrorizing our village. We’re near the coast. It’s an easy delivery route. Once you’ve lived with that, it’s hard to be worried about rumors. If there is any real threat, the police in our village will handle it. I’m perfectly safe there.”
She wasn’t just putting on a brave facade. Ana really had no fear, and that made her even more attractive to him.
She wasn’t married, and there weren’t any current boyfriends. They would have been part of her profile. Not interested in men?
No. He’d seen the heat in her eyes a few times when he’d touched her. She felt it, too.
As they reached the right altitude and leveled off, he set the autopilot and leaned back, relaxing in his seat.
“So who do you think could be doing this? A fan? Or maybe someone closer?” he asked, deciding that this was as good a time as any to talk about who was harassing her.
“It’s clearly a fan.”
“Or perhaps someone trying to appear like a fan.”
“What do you mean?” Ana asked, sitting up, her eyes sharp.
“I talked to your landlady, and she said she didn’t let anyone into your apartment yesterday. She was very clear on the issue. There was also no forced entry.”
“So you suspect...who?”
“Anyone who might’ve had access to your keys during the day. Anyone who could have grabbed them and ducked out while you were too busy to notice or who knows your schedule. When you are and are not home.”
Ana started to say something, then dropped back into her seat again, silent.
“Anyone on the show have it in for you?” he asked.
She barked a slight laugh that was not humorous. “Every contestant that hasn’t won. So many. Who knows?”
“That bad?”
“It can be. I make a decision that changes people’s futures, makes their dream come true. When those dreams are ruined, people can be very...upset.”
He nodded. “Anyone in particular? Someone who might want to give you a hard time or throw you off your game?”
“Nothing throws me off my game,” she stated, making him smile. “There is Lionel. He’s been a problem. I can’t imagine he would have done anything like this, though.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s your typical rich guy who has bought his way through life, including onto the show. He has some talent in the kitchen, but I would never choose him to win, and he knows it.”
“Why?”
“He’s not that good, and he’s a pain in the backside. He’s asked me out no fewer than eight times so far, and I finally told him that if he didn’t stop, I’d disqualify him from the show immediately—his contract included clauses that held him to strict behavioral guidelines, including no bribing or influencing of the show’s judge or crew.”
“That couldn’t have gone over well.”
“Lionel seemed to think he was above all of it. Coming on to me was his way of letting me know he had no respect for me. His father put some background pressure on my producer through the network. I told them all to go to hell.”
“Good for you. What happened?”
“I tried to have him removed from the show after his last display, and his father’s blatant manipulation, which is against the rules. The studio promised to ‘talk’ to him, but they wouldn’t go along with tossing him out. Clearly, his father has some real pull with the studio execs. Lionel wasn’t happy.”
Chance whistled between his teeth. “Sounds like a good suspect.”
“I guess. But death threats? Breaking into my apartment? Somehow I don’t see him getting his hands dirty like that.”
“He could always pay someone to do it for him.”
Ana sat back, considering. “I never suspected it could be someone inside. We all have disagreements, but we work together. We may not be friends, but we are a team.”
Chance took in her face, the tired shadows beneath her eyes. None of this was easy.
“There’s room in the back if you’d like to go stretch out, relax. It’s not superluxurious, but you can read or take a nap,” he said congenially.
“Thank you. That would be nice,” she said, clearly eager to escape as she released her belt.
Ch
ance comforted himself that he’d have plenty of time with her once they landed. Maybe he could find a way to convince her that he wasn’t the enemy. And in the meantime, he could send a message to Garrett to check out this Lionel guy and maybe put a tail on him. If he was that determined and that wealthy, he could have the reach to get to Ana anywhere.
Chance was caught in thought as Ana stood, bracing herself as she turned to squeeze out of the tight space between them. Just then, some turbulence shook the plane and tipped just enough to throw her off balance.
With a solid oomph, Ana landed right in Chance’s lap.
Chance’s mind blanked and his body reacted to her scent and the soft curve of her ass pressing into his lap. Her fingers grabbed his shoulder to steady herself as she wiggled forward, trying to pull herself back upright. Her skirt had ridden up to new heights, exposing a delectable view of smooth upper thigh that made Chance ache to know what was hidden just a few inches higher. Her wiggling against him wasn’t helping.
“I’m so sorry,” she said on a breath, her face mere inches from his. “Clumsy.”
“Not your fault. Turbulence,” he said, sounding a bit hoarse.
Her lips looked delicious. Big brown eyes widened as Ana watched him watch her, and it was all Chance could do not to pull her in closer and have a taste.
He was hard, and he knew she felt his response to her as warmth infused her cheeks. He wanted her, but it was up to him to stop this.
“I could come back with you, entertain you for the rest of the flight,” he said with a naughty grin.
It did the trick. The pink in her cheeks turned red and her eyes snapped. Her fingers dug in as she arched out of his lap, taking all of that luscious softness away.
Glaring down at him, her chin tipped up. “I don’t think so,” she muttered, straightening her skirt and her spine.
Man, she was gorgeous.
Chance smiled at her. “If you change your mind, just say so.”
With a small infuriated sound, Ana shot him one more look and headed to the back of the plane, where Chance was fairly sure she would stay until they landed.
Unfortunate, but just as well. He wanted her, bad. And with her safety in the balance, it was better if she was angry at him and kept her distance, or he might just throw caution to the wind, as he had a habit of doing.
His Kind of Trouble Page 4