The Billionaire's Prize: Taken & Tempted: (Book 3 Billionaire Bodyguard Series)

by Kristi Avalon

  She glanced at the width of his shoulders. “You look like you should’ve landed a football trophy to me.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t into knocking helmets with three-hundred-pound wrecking balls and walking around with concussions for no good reason.”

  She blinked and her lips curved. “How practical of you. Basketball then?”

  “No, although every year Coach Burney tried to bribe me to play. But I ran cross country and studied my ass off for a scholarship. How about you? What’s your list of high school accolades?”

  The admiration in her glance caught him off guard, because it was genuine. Something he hadn’t seen in a long time. “You have an impressive vocabulary. I wouldn’t have expected that.”

  “Thanks.” Noticing she kept redirecting the topic of conversation to him, he refocused on her. “So? Were you voted most likely to become president?”

  “Hardly,” she scoffed, and looked down at her hands folded over the cuffs of his coat. “I had a nice winning streak on the speech and debate team freshman and sophomore year. But junior year everything changed.”

  He watched her whole demeanor shift from hesitantly open to cool and reserved. “What happened?”

  “There was a…family situation.” She nudged her glasses up. “Anyway, all I ended up being known for was the girl most likely to be found reading in the library.”

  Leaning back against the seat cushion, he recalled the long hours cramming for tests. He also remembered that’s where he met girls who became his friends, the interesting ones, not the girls he skipped ninth period to suck face with or go down on in the backseat of his car. “I spent a lot of time there, too.”

  She looked at him blatant skepticism. “Really.”

  “Yes, I studied nonstop.” He spread his hands. “I needed scholarships if I wanted to be the first one in my family to earn a college degree. It wasn’t going to happen on my parents’ dime.”

  “Your father was a bounty hunter, right?”

  He nodded, growing restless as the topic turned to his dad. “When all four of us boys were in grade school, Dad and Uncle Joey wanted a bigger slice of the American Dream to put food on the table, so they started their own bail bond business. With that came the bounty hunting part of the gig, chasing after the people who skipped out on their bonds. It’s not as glamorous as it looks on TV.”

  “I don’t imagine it is.” A brief shadow flickered over her features. “I interned with a few defense attorneys. My most unique experiences were with Ashley Caldwell, a public defender. She was one of the best lawyers in Las Vegas yet she took on the bulk of her cases as a court appointed attorney. Her husband owned a law firm right on the strip, they didn’t need the money, and I guess she liked the challenge. It’s a saintly individual who can handle that job without complaint, along with the defendants. Kind of like those who teach children with behavioral problems. There’s a special place in heaven for them.”

  “They’re definitely first in line for haloes and harps,” he agreed. He glanced at Kylie as though seeing her for the first time.

  Most of his daily conversations consisted of answering PR questions concerning Soren Security, talking shop with his finance team, or planning the future of the company with his brother and cousins. He enjoyed talking with Kylie, exploring her well-rounded scope of experience and thoughtful reflection.

  “So what’s your favorite restaurant in Vegas?”

  She smiled and her face lit up, leaving him a little awestruck. “Grumpy’s. They have the best—”

  “Loaded fries.”

  “Yes!”

  “God, I miss those. Thick cut potato wedges.”

  “Smothered in tons of gooey cheddar cheese,” she added.

  “Topped with fresh crumbly bacon.”

  She pretended to expire from epicurean joy on the seat beside him.

  He laughed. And decided he liked her. A lot.

  Then she changed the subject. “I’ll need to stop somewhere to pick up some essentials. Like a toothbrush. Socks. Clothes.”

  He considered carefully before revealing, “I took care of that. I asked my assistant to go shopping.”

  She blinked. “But, I thought I’d stop at Target for what I needed.”

  “Target isn’t on the excursion list. We have to stick to the regularly scheduled program.”

  “How am I supposed to get…things?”

  “You’ll have everything you need waiting for you at my penthouse.”

  She straightened. “How could you possibly know my size?”

  “We’ll go into it later.”

  “Cade,” she muttered in a warning tone.

  Instead of engaging her in that long explanation, he pointed out the window. “We’re here.”

  Kylie looked past his finger, taking in the scenery beyond.

  She experienced a tremor of intimidation.

  The impressive building left no doubt that Soren Security had reached a pinnacle of success. The six story structure reflected a contemporary design aesthetic including a glass-walled two story entryway, inviting interior with strategically exposed metal beams, capped by a pyramid skylight. She found it rather understated for a group of guys from Las Vegas. She pushed the sleeves of Cade’s coat up her arms and grabbed her laptop bag, heaving it onto her shoulder as she stepped from the limo.

  “Let me get that.” He removed the heavy bag and carried it like it weighed less than a feather pillow. He also held the building door open for her.

  Daddy had always insisted that men who held doors open were “brought up right.” She’d been slightly appalled to learn that in a corporate setting men didn’t treat women with deference. When had courtesy become a liability? She liked that Cade didn’t stand by those norms.

  “Evening, Deirdre,” he said to the receptionist, whose eyes went soft as she stared at him with a dreamy smile.

  “Hi, Mr. Soren.” Then Deirdre straightened. “Oh, I have a message for you. A reporter from Channel Eight News came by asking when she could reschedule your interview.”

  “I need to confirm with Mindy first.” He ran a hand through his hair absently. “But let’s tentatively say tomorrow. Ten o’clock.”

  “I’ll call her right away and let her know.”

  “Thanks, Deirdre.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.” She sighed as he walked by. He seemed oblivious to her pining devotion. Probably didn’t faze him—he received that look from every woman he passed.

  Kylie experienced another wave of inadequacy, but she didn’t require his attention or validation. She had a cold case to solve. Something she did well with no insecurities. She adored her insulated world of legal research.

  Types like Cade could keep the spotlight. She wanted no part of maintaining a public image. The effort seemed exhausting, though Cade was definitely in his element there. He’d been blessed with a face and persona perfect for public relations.

  She followed the blonde Adonis up three steps into an expansive first floor. She crossed an ocean of glistening travertine tile, passed furniture clusters of white leather with silver accents. In indoor planters potted with trees reached toward the high ceiling skylights. The open central space was ringed with five upper stories of glass railings that delineated each floor. Pendant lights hung from above like waterfall drops frozen in mid air.

  Wow, this building is beautiful.

  Taking it all in, she paused to turn a half circle. And almost bumped into the brick wall chest of her bodyguard. She peered up at his imposing presence. “Um, hi.”

  Without a word he nodded an acknowledgement, his gray gaze unreadable.

  Unnerved, she hurried to catch up with Cade. “I guess your bodyguards don’t take coffee breaks.”

  “Not when they’re on the clock.” He slowed and hit the button for the elevators.

  She pressed him. “Do I really need a bodyguard now that I’m here?”

  Cade turned those incandescent blue eyes on her that she couldn’t refuse if
she tried, and he asked, “Do you trust me?”

  She paused. “Yes…?”

  He grinned as the elevator descended. “Maybe someday you’ll say that with some confidence.”

  She shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her arm, extending it toward him. “Thanks for the warmth.”

  “My pleasure.” His eyes blinked slowly. “Any time.”

  Anxious about meeting his cousins, assuming she’d have to bring everyone up to speed on her version of the case, she shifted from foot to foot. Her gaze darted around. “Your building is very classy. Never would’ve guessed you came from Las Vegas.”

  He chuckled. “You mean the land of gaudy opulence and neon dazzle?”

  “Exactly.”

  “My brother Trey designed the space. I added the décor.”

  “You have good taste.”

  He swept a glance over her then met her eyes. “I like to think so.”

  They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Something in his posture, in his expression, made her wonder if there was some attraction on his part. The elevator doors parted. Their stolen moment vanished. He guided her into the glass and steel elevator, his palm warm and reassuring against her back.

  A flicker of heat radiated through her abdomen and traveled up her spine, spreading goose bumps across her shoulders. Cade seemed to be sending her subtle innuendos, but she didn’t trust the conclusion. She was positive that if they were strangers passing each other on the street, he wouldn’t even glance her way.

  Their fates were intertwined in response to outside forces over which they had no control. She wasn’t a fool. Forging a deeper bond with him wouldn’t help the situation. That would only make their connection more complicated.

  Because, contrary to her expectations, she actually liked Cade.

  She could even see herself falling for him, too easily, and her heart had been battered enough with loss. She didn’t need another ache of disappointment adding to her sizeable collection.

  The three of them arrived on the sixth floor. As she walked the length of the hallway she looked through the glass railing and saw numerous workers bustling through the lower floors leaving for the day. She checked her phone. 5:30 pm. Her stomach grumbled a complaint, but her mind was too cluttered with worry to think about food.

  Pushing through a set of tall doors, Cade strutted into an impressively large boardroom with a giant mahogany conference table to the left, and a mini-bar and pool table on the right. Evidently, the Sorens had no problem balancing business with pleasure.

  She noticed Slone stepped off to the side, standing near the door with his arms folded. Then she turned her focus to the other two men in the room.

  “Guys,” Cade announced, “meet Kylie Graham. Kylie, this is Liam and Adam. My cousins, fellow CEOs, and business partners.”

  The introduction led her gaze first to Liam, who touched the brim of his cowboy hat and smiled.

  Beneath a rugged brown suit jacket, he wore a t-shirt that read: I Have a BS Degree. She suppressed a grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Then her glance fell to the other man, half-sitting on the edge of the conference table with his back to her. He wore a stars-and-stripes skull cap that held back his shoulder length hair, a black shirt, and black jeans with the pockets slightly frayed. His broad shoulders hunched, and his enormous bicep flexed as he held up an index finger, a request for a moment of silence while he finished his call. She guessed he was Adam.

  The laid back dress and attitude of the other two men put her more at ease. Meanwhile, Cade was all business as he took a seat and lifted the screen of his laptop.

  When she looked back at Liam, she mentally snapped her fingers in recognition. She knew who he reminded her of and whispered, “Has anyone told you that you look like Sawyer from the old TV show Lost?”

  One of her all time favorite series she wished had never ended. Packed with intrigue and mystery and clues to solve each episode, she longed for Lost or something like it to air on primetime television. Like Sawyer on the show, Liam had the same blonde-streaked light brown hair and slick southern arrogance, acting like he was redneck and proud of it, but she saw the intelligence in his eyes. Even if Cade was the only one with the college degree, Liam was smart and definitely perceptive.

  Liam responded to her association less than enthusiastically. “Yeah.” He glanced down at the table. “I get that a lot.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cade’s entertained smirk. Which prompted her to add, “Except you’re more handsome.”

  Cade frowned.

  Liam sat up straighter and grinned. “Thanks. I don’t hear that one nearly enough.”

  When he ended his call, Adam turned around. She was blown away for a moment. Whoa. Total bad boy hunk. She took a mental snapshot of this, cataloging it under rare and beautiful moments. Her, surrounded by three insanely good-looking men, and she was the center of their attention.

  Except not for a good reason. Her moment of happiness dwindled.

  Adam’s vivid green eyes pinned her to her chair, and she shrank back under his scrutiny. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “We have a problem.”

  Cade stopped typing on his laptop. “What is it?”

  Flattening his hands on the table, Adam looked grim and intimidating. “Bruno Ramos was released from prison—yesterday.”

  Chapter 3

  Shock fried Kylie’s nerves like an electrocution. She gripped her chair as horror sank in. “Bruno Ramos killed Maria,” she gasped.

  Muscles rippled up Adam’s arms. “Looks like it.”

  Looking pale under his tan, Cade pressed a thumb against his temple. “This is huge.”

  “Hugely bad,” Liam said. “As bounty hunters we took down scores of guys in his drug cartel. If he didn’t have it out for us already, he will now.”

  “Yeah, now that Kylie’s under our protection.” Adam narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s your connection to Ramos?”

  Her hands trembled as she explained. “I worked as an intern for Bruno’s defense attorney. When I started asking questions about a possible correlation to Jacob Soren’s death, he went frigid on me and terminated my internship two weeks later. So I pursued the leads I uncovered myself.”

  “You did what?” Adam bellowed.

  “We’ve been over this.” Cade rose from his chair and rested his fingertips on her shoulder. “Kylie had no intention of creating an association between Bruno and Maria. That was an accident. But somehow he must’ve known Kylie had contacted Maria, and that Maria had talked.”

  “I know it was a mistake,” she said, guilt twisting into painful knots inside her. “I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to follow-up with some proof for the cold case.”

  “An accident. A mistake. Whatever you want to call it, this puts us all at risk.” Adam started pacing. “Does he know you’re here?”

  “No,” Cade answered for her. “I pulled Kylie out of Vegas as soon as I heard about Maria’s death.”

  Liam turned to her. “I take it you’re in law school?”

  She shook her head. “I’m getting my degree in paralegal studies.”

  “So you’re an armchair detective.” Adam sneered. “That’s freakin’ great.”

  Despite how hard she’d worked on her degree, on all her own cold cases, his remark cut her to the bone. He was right. She had no authority or legal recourse or a law degree backing up her assumptions. She wanted to curl up and disappear, wishing she’d never set foot in that defense attorney’s office—or followed her hunch about Jacob Soren’s suspicious death in the first place.

  Cade glowered at his cousin. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “Try a realist. One of us needs to face the truth. Ramos has deadly connections, and those connections have connections. He could’ve ordered a hit on Kylie by now.”

  Liam crossed his arms on the table. “It’s more likely than not. We should move forward with that expectation.”

  “We should move he
r out of this office. We can’t risk someone following her trace here, putting our employees and clients in danger.”

  Liam sent her a look of compassion. “It’s not Kylie’s fault Ramos is a coldblooded killer out to silence the truth.”

  “There was a woman involved,” she interjected, desperate to prove herself worth the trouble of keeping her safe in Denver. “Maria described a couple arguing in the next room. The name Ramos came up.”

  Adam’s jaw went slack. “Why didn’t the cops track that lead from the beginning?”

  “Maria’s English wasn’t very fluent five years ago,” Kylie said. “She told me she tried to explain the best she could, but the officers didn’t find her statement relevant or credible enough, so they never pursued her claims.”

  Cade’s expression changed. A haunted look stole into his eyes. “What about the couple? Did Maria tell you more about the argument?”

  She nodded. “Maria said they were fighting over money. There wasn’t enough, or help came too late. Something along those lines. Maria knocked on the door to see if everything was okay. A man who she identified as your father opened the door and insisted they were fine. When the door shut the argument continued. Out of context Maria had a hard time making sense of their quarrel, but it spilled into the back alley. The same woman was screaming and crying, ‘He’s dead. He’s dead and it’s your fault.’ Then she heard two gun shots. When Maria raced to the window, a black Cadillac peeled out of the parking lot. The same car the woman was driving when she arrived at the motel. Presumably to meet with your dad.”

  “No shit.” Adam regarded her with new respect. “Uncle Jake was there for a reason. This woman must have a connection to Bruno.”

  “She did.” Kylie breathed deep. “At the front desk Maria found the check-in log with the last name Ramos scribbled on the sheet. In fact it said Emilio Ramos. When she went to offer it to the police an hour later, the page had been torn off and she never saw it again.”

  Cade ran a hand down his face, sadness pinching his features. “Maybe that’s why he told me to stay with Mom and called Trey for backup. He knew the meeting wouldn’t go well.”