Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2)

by Aislinn Kearns

  Been on bad dates?

  The security footage of the roses being delivered would be the best place to start. Most stalkers wouldn’t be stupid enough to put themselves on camera like that, but some were just begging to be caught. He’d talk to the security guard at her building about that later, once he dropped her home. He and Gus had developed a rapport earlier, when he’d told the older man about the situation. He’d been very protective of Sierra.

  Blake hadn’t wanted to ask about the security footage then, he’d been trying to get to Sierra, and had a feeling the older guy would be slow when working computers. But once Sierra was tucked into her apartment safe and sound, he’d get started on this investigation for real.

  After her meeting, Sierra obviously fully intended to work through lunch, so Blake settled in for a hungry afternoon. He was used to deprivation. It was one of the skills you learned as a SEAL. Plus, his appetite had shrunk when he’d been shot and he hadn’t quite got it back yet.

  Still, he must have given some indication that food was on his mind, because Sierra spoke up. “There’s a canteen downstairs, you know. You could go and grab something.”

  Blake gave her an unforgiving look. “I can’t leave you, remember?”

  Sierra narrowed her eyes. “What if you need to go to the bathroom?”

  He shook his head. “I hold it.”

  Her gaze narrowed even further. “What if I need to go to the bathroom?”

  “Then I come with you.”

  Her head snapped back. “Are you mad?”

  “No. Just doing my job.”

  “Do you have to be in the stall with me, too?” she asked mockingly.

  Blake intentionally hesitated, drawing out his answer until her eyes had widened in horror.

  “You wouldn’t,” she said. But it was clear that she believed he would.

  Blake grinned. “Not if I don’t have to. But I will check the area first, then stand outside until you are done.”

  Her head drooped. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

  Blake shrugged. “Better than dead.”

  She raised just her eyes to glare at him, but didn’t contradict the words.

  “All right, let’s go.”

  He followed her out of the office and down the hall, his eyes darting left and right. His brain was still ticking over, considering his next steps. If the stalker was the one that brought her the roses, then they had to know not just her apartment building, but her number. He couldn’t imagine him following her all the way to her apartment. Sierra would have noticed someone else in the elevator.

  So perhaps he had access to her information somehow. He could be in HR here at the company, or the mailman, or… any number of people, really. A more terrifying thought would be that he knew her. That he’d been to her apartment, spent time with her there. Blake would have to ask her about that later.

  They reached the bathroom. Blake stepped inside to check in first, earning a glare from the small Asian woman washing her hands.

  “Sorry, won’t be a sec,” he told her with a grin. Immune to his usual charms, she continued to give him the stink eye until she walked out the door.

  “It’s clear,” he told Sierra. He turned back to her to see her face flushed with embarrassment and her arms crossed over her chest. She couldn’t even look at him.

  Rather than berate him as he expected, she just walked towards a stall and threw it open. Only then did she look at him. “You said you would wait outside,” she hissed.

  Blake thought about arguing the point just to be an asshole, but decided she didn’t need that.

  He had taken a post outside the door, attempting to look harmless to anyone that passed. He was largely unsuccessful, earning a collection of strange looks from Sierra’s colleagues.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Blake nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the excuse of something to do.

  Mandy’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey,” he answered.

  “Hi,” she replied. “How is she?”

  “She’s fine.” Mandy had often talked about Sierra. It was clear how close they were. Blake envied her for that. The only people he was close to were the ones he’d served with—both in Soldiering On and overseas. But Mandy and Sierra had bonded the normal way—shared interests and similar lives—rather than through pain and death and blood.

  He did have a family. Somewhere. But he hadn’t spoken to them since he’d turned eighteen and signed up to become a SEAL.

  “She didn’t answer my call. I was worried.” She sounded it, too. Her voice was tight, and from the jostling of the phone, he could tell she was pacing.

  “She’s in the bathroom,” he told her.

  At that moment, Sierra stepped out, giving him a curious look. He handed the phone to her, mouthing Mandy’s name so she’d know who it was. Her eyes lit with subtle pleasure, and Blake found it sweet that she was still excited to talk to her friend after all these years.

  “Sorry, I didn’t answer your call… I’m fine. I’m about to take the big man here to get some food in the cafeteria. Apparently he can’t go without me.”

  Blake breathed a sigh of relief.

  Chapter 8

  Sierra was leading Blake through the twisting corridors of Livingston, Hastings, and Winslow back to her office when they encountered an immovable object—more commonly known as Harry Livingston, her father. Sierra stopped dead.

  Blake was a little slower to come to a halt. She could sense his thwarted energy next to her, buzzing just at the edges of her peripheral vision. His head turned towards her, his face a mask of quiet curiosity.

  “Sierra,” her father greeted her.

  She raised her chin. “Mr. Livingston,” she replied. They’d decided when she started work at LHW that she’d be treated as any other employee. Sierra had thought that would mean that she wouldn’t get any special favours. But, in her father’s eyes, that meant her calling him Mr. Livingston, regardless of who might, or might not, be watching.

  “I heard rumours that you had a new… assistant.” Only then did he bother to shift his eyes to Blake, but only for a second. In that one instant, her father had catalogued and dismissed Blake as if he was a scuff mark on his marble floors. He turned his displeased expression back to Sierra.

  Blake was undeterred. “Hi, I’m Blake.” He stuck out his hand and stepped towards her father, his most charming grin firmly in place.

  Harry’s reluctant eyes slid back to Blake. He appraised him, even as his hand automatically grasped Blake’s—a habit developed over forty years of doing exactly that—but his face didn’t change.

  The two men eyed each other for a moment, Harry glaring, Blake grinning, and a brief, competitive tension bloomed between them. But, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Her father had warmed to Blake in that brief mental tussle, she could tell. Sierra nearly rolled her eyes. Her father always said that he couldn’t help but like a man with a strong handshake. She guessed Blake fit the bill.

  “I’m surprised, Sierra,” her father told her, turning back in her direction. “As much as I support unconventional hires, I thought that you’d choose a female assistant. Or was all that bluster about supporting women in the workplace just a little something to occupy your time?”

  Sierra’s mouth went dry. “Maybe I was just sick of my assistants quitting.”

  “I don’t understand why you would want such weak women working for you. This is a difficult business. If they can’t hack it, then they don’t belong here.” He sounded so eminently reasonable.

  A muscle ticked in Sierra’s jaw. “You know perfectly well why the majority of them left.”

  Annoyance cracked his emotionless façade. “Yes. They let their personal lives interfere with their work. They made their choices, Sierra.”

  “Under false pretences!”

  He nodded. “So you say,” he replied, clearly not believing her.

  Sierra took a steadying breath, feeling instantly calmer. The st
rength that always felt worn down, worried at the edges, in her father’s presence, was bolstered by knowing Blake was by her side.

  “One day you’ll see what a liability Percy is to you. I just hope it won’t be too late.”

  “And one day you will see that he’s not as bad as you say. Jealousy does not become you, Sierra.” It was a warning.

  “If this were about jealousy, this would be a very different conversation.” Sierra tried to sneak a glance at Blake, wondering what he was making of all this, but her father drew her attention back to him.

  “Stop this charade. Please.” His whole demeanour changed, stepping forward, his eyes imploring. “Percy is a partner here, now. You can’t keep spreading rumours about him, or we’ll be forced to let you go. We can’t allow that kind of culture in this office, or everyone will start disrespecting each other and us.” Us, meaning, of course, the higher-ups. The important people. Not her.

  “Maybe I should leave.” It popped out of her mouth without any warning and she couldn’t take it back.

  Her father’s eyes widened in shock. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I might,” she replied, though the thought made her stomach roil.

  “Every workplace will be the same. Percy and his type are the majority, and you and your ilk are the minority. You won’t find a better job.”

  Sierra swallowed around the lump in her throat. The worst of it was, he was probably right. In their industry, men like Percy and Grant dominated. They were everywhere. If she left, chances were that she would be in an even worse position, since she would have lost all the ground that she’d gained at LHW over the years.

  But her father didn’t need to know that.

  “Just keep in mind that it is an option for me. Plenty of people would appreciate my skills.”

  While he continued to stare at her with shock—and was that a touch of hurt there, too?—Sierra stepped around him. She was a few strides down the corridor, Blake at her side, when her father spoke again.

  “Don’t forget about the presentation in a few days.”

  Sierra tensed, but didn’t give in to the urge to turn around. Instead, she picked up her pace, keeping her steps measured so that no one would suspect she was hurrying. She breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the door to her office.

  “So, your father seems nice,” Blake said into the silent office.

  Sierra looked up at him in disbelief as she settled herself behind her desk. Blake shrugged unrepentantly, grin fixed firmly in place.

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s a little better outside the office—when I see him outside the office—but he’s hard on me when we’re working.”

  “Why?”

  “Doesn’t want to be seen giving me favouritism, I suppose.”

  “I thought you handled it pretty well.”

  Not in the mood, Sierra shuffled papers on her desk to avoid looking at him. “I’ve been dealing with this shit since well before you got here. And I’ll be dealing with it long after you’ve gone. If I stick to my guns, eventually it’ll pay off.” At least, she hoped that would be the case. Her father was a decent man with an unfortunately screwed way of thinking. She hoped she could straighten him out with logic. Eventually.

  “But you won’t follow through on your threat to leave?”

  “Nope,” she said, and left it at that. He didn’t push it.

  “Why didn’t you correct him when he said I was your assistant?” he asked instead.

  She raised a brow at him. “Because that’s what I’ve told everyone you are.”

  He blinked. “Why? Why not just tell them that I’m your bodyguard?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You being my bodyguard raises too many questions. They’d want to know why I’d need one. These people are like sharks. Any hint of a weakness, and they’ll attack.”

  “Being a victim of a stalker is not a weakness,” he said seriously.

  Sierra scoffed. “I’m aware. But I am also very aware of people’s perceptions and how they can work in someone’s favour, or to their detriment. It’s the only way I’ve stayed alive here. And I can assure you that certain people would use this stalker thing against me if they found out about it.” She leaned forward to impress her point. “So, don’t go telling people without my permission, okay? Don’t think you know best.”

  He reared back at this, clearly affronted. “I would never.”

  “Good,” was all she said, before lowering her gaze back to her computer screen, trying to ignore the new tinge of awkwardness in the air.

  She knew that she’d probably been a little harder on Blake than she’d intended, but she couldn’t take the risk. Too many men had made decisions for her in her life—whether directly or indirectly—and she couldn’t let it happen in this case. Between her stalker, her colleagues, her father, and now Blake, so many things crowded her mind, fighting for her attention. But too much rested on her remaining focused, particularly now, with the presentation coming up.

  She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by Blake, no matter how charming his smile.

  Chapter 9

  He just sat there, alternating between tapping on his phone and staring at the wall as if… waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure.

  She glanced up for what must have been the hundredth time that hour. Her eyes were constantly drawn to his stillness. There was an energy to his silence. Like a panther anticipating a strike on some unsuspecting prey.

  “Must you be in here?” she asked him eventually.

  He looked over at her. “Hmmm?”

  “Can’t you wait outside? You’re very distracting.” She tapped her pen restlessly against the desk, the sharp click loud in the quiet room.

  True confusion spiked his brow. “Distracting? I’m not doing anything.” A grin slid across his face. “Unless it’s my dashing good looks distracting you?”

  Sierra rolled her eyes. “Definitely not that. You just… never mind.”

  She sighed when he still didn’t understand. She wasn’t about to explain the way her gaze was pulled to him constantly, and the hum of tension his readiness created in her sanctuary.

  “Isn’t it about home time, anyway?” he asked her, glancing at the watch strapped to his prosthetic hand.

  She looked down at her computer’s desktop. “It’s only half past six,” she told him.

  “Well past the time most normal people leave.”

  “I started late,” she tried.

  “You had a tough night,” he countered.

  She did have to concede that one.

  He softened his expression. “Are you sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “Are you sure you don’t just want to go home early?” The illusion of him as a predator trapped in a cage only strengthened.

  He reared back in affront. “That would be unprofessional.”

  “Uh huh.” She paused. “All right, give me another hour to get on top of things, and then we can go. I can finish the rest at home.”

  “What are you working on that’s so urgent?”

  “I have a big presentation with a client in a few days. If they like the idea, it will completely change the direction of their company. Since they’re a huge client of ours, if I can impress them, then my father and the other partners will no longer be able to ignore me. If I mess it up, in their eyes, it will prove what they’ve been thinking about me all along. That I’m weak and incapable. So this might be my only shot at muscling my way to the top.”

  He gave a thoughtful nod. “So this is pretty important for you?”

  “Essential,” she confirmed.

  Despite her protests, he still hustled her out of there at seven thirty on the dot.

  She would have complained more, put her foot down, but truthfully she was exhausted. The additional two or three hours of work she still had to do was not an appealing prospect.

  Lack of sleep, combined with heightened stress, had caused havoc with her body the last few months. She was silent on the c
ar ride home, letting her mind drift and wander. Blake was smart enough to recognise her mood and stayed silent.

  It was so nice to be able to give the responsibility to her safety over to another person, just for a while. She knew it was a temporary fix. But she’d been so scared for so long that she just wanted a short break.

  She felt Blake’s gaze drift to her occasionally in the darkened cabin. Rather than making her nervous, or self-conscious, it made her feel warm, languid, like a heater warming her up on a cold night.

  The headlights of the Range Rover splayed across the wall as he pulled into the parking spot at her apartment. The low hum of the engine stopped as he turned the key, pulling her out of the mental place she’d drifted to.

  “Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sent her a quiet smile, so different to his usual charming grin.

  She didn’t protest his company as they rode directly to her floor in the elevator, bypassing the front lobby and the security guard stationed there.

  “Is every day going to be like this?” she asked as she inserted her key into the heavy metal lock.

  “Until we catch him,” he replied.

  Sierra pushed the door open and took a step. Blake held her back with a solid arm across her stomach. The prosthetic arm, she noted dimly, too distracted by his proximity to give it any thought.

  He might have said something, but was too distracted by his eyes to process the words. The forest green of his irises shone through, even in the muted hallway light. He looked at her with a steady calm, without any of the heat she usually received from men, particularly the flirtatious ones. It managed to be both refreshing and irksome.

  He was, she noticed, rather attractive, quite apart from his charming persona. The planes of his face were strong and defined, graced with dark five o’clock shadow that added an extra roughness to him. His torso, she’d already admired, but she hadn’t noticed his scent until that moment—like a thunderstorm on a crisp night.

  Her breathing sped up, just a little, and there was the darkening of his eyes. The answering hitch in his breath. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she instinctively darted her tongue out to wet them. His eyes traced the movement.