He’d made it seem easy.
She’d put her instructor on the ground more than once. ‘You know Muay Thai.’
His gaze swept over her face, making her wonder if her colour had come back at all.
‘I know some.’
She put both hands on his muscled chest and pushed out of the embrace. ‘Liar. You know all of it.’
One corner of his mouth lifted in a self-conscious smirk, but he didn’t confirm or deny.
Always evasive.
Always an enigma.
Rielle jumped when a phone rang, and the smirk fell from his face. She heaved a sigh of relief when he pulled his phone out of his jeans. The look in his eyes turned sharp.
‘Yeah?’ he said, watching her steadily. ‘I know. Deal with it. I’m busy.’
He tucked the phone away without another look and swung his arm around her waist. ‘You. Over here. Now.’
He sat her down on a bench alongside the path and planted one foot on the seat beside her. Bracing his forearm against his thigh, he leaned in.
‘What’s the story? Why are you so jumpy?’
Rielle tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Because I have you showing up at every turn.’
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and she immediately felt sorry. She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her temples. ‘It’s not you. I’m sorry I snapped.’
‘Is it your boss? Is she still giving you a hard time?’
‘No.’ Nina had been great. She’d even had calls from the main line redirected to her when she was in.
‘The cop then. Is he still looking for me?’
‘No. Maybe. I don’t know.’
‘But that’s not it,’ he surmised. His jaw worked, and she could nearly see the gears in his head turning.
She looked away. The man saw too much. He’d seen things in her she hadn’t known were still there.
He held out his hand and snapped his fingers. ‘Phone. Hand it over.’
Damn.
She nearly refused. She still didn’t know if he was the caller.
But she knew. He had nothing to do with it.
It was either hand over her phone or have him wrestle for it. She’d wrestled with him before, and she knew who would end up on top.
She gave him her phone and wrapped her fingers around the edge of the park bench. Nervously, she looked at the people walking past them. She peered over her shoulder to look past the pretty trees. Was her caller still watching?
Had he been watching her at all?
Her mystery man went immediately to her recent calls. She’d never doubted the intelligence behind those eyes. He’d put two and two together.
He frowned when he looked at the call info. ‘Rielle Sands?’
Those baby blues focused on her. ‘You called yourself?’
She shook her head jerkily.
‘Spoofing,’ he muttered.
Was that what it was called?
He swept the call list up, looking through the entries. His eyebrow lifted ruefully and, when she looked at her phone, she saw ‘Mel’ spelled out upside down.
Rielle crinkled her nose. He was the only male on the list other than Detective Morgan. ‘Don’t get cocky.’
That earned a wicked smile from him. ‘You sure?’
Standing as he was, his crotch wasn’t that far away. Rielle blushed, and her gaze flicked away.
He handed back her phone, and she fiddled with it. With a sigh, he sat down beside her. The side of his leg pressed against hers. Big, solid, protective. ‘I take it that’s not the only call you’ve received.’
‘It’s the first on my cellphone.’
‘Where have the others come in? Home landline?’
‘Luxxor.’ She met his gaze. ‘We don’t publish that number. It’s as unlisted as you can get.’
‘But clients have it.’
She nodded. She hadn’t really considered that.
‘How many calls have you had?’
‘I don’t know. Too many. Security is tracking them – or trying to.’
‘What does the caller say?’
‘Nothing. He just breathes.’
‘You can tell it’s a man?’
‘I – it feels like a man.’
‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Two weeks, and I think someone has been following me.’
He went quiet. ‘You thought it was me.’
She pressed her lips together. ‘Nina and Security do.’
‘Rielle, I haven’t even been in the country. Shit.’ He bit off a curse.
Something inside her perked up and took notice. He wasn’t supposed to tell her that – but he had. He was slipping when he was around her, and that made her unexpectedly happy. Maybe she was screwing with his head too.
‘I don’t know what to think.’ She turned towards him, tucking a leg underneath her. ‘You won’t tell me your name. You slip in and out of Luxxor like it’s child’s play. I don’t know you.’
His expression was hard. ‘You know that I would never hurt you or intentionally scare you. You know that.’
The look he gave her was so intense and intimate, her stomach clenched. ‘I –’
She didn’t know anything.
Rielle went cold on the inside when she caught sight of a woman walking down the path amongst the throng of tourists. Only now did she realise that she’d nearly made it to the Jefferson Memorial. The pack of eager visitors ooh’d and ahh’d over the pretty pink blossoms and the impressive monument, but all she saw was a dark-haired woman with olive skin.
It was the woman from the White House reception…the woman he’d been watching so carefully…
Rielle stood up fast. Stars filled her vision, but she put distance between them before her head cleared. Follow through, he’d told her. Don’t hesitate.
It was good advice.
He was already on his feet, reaching for her. ‘Rielle?’
She held up her hands and backed away. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘What the hell?’
‘I…I’ve got to get back to work.’
Turning, she nearly broke into a run. How could she be sure that he wasn’t the one calling her? He was still tracking that woman.
‘We need to talk.’
Darien texted Rielle as he waited outside her apartment building. He knew she’d hate like hell that he was here, but she hadn’t been at Luxxor when he’d gone to find her. She’d left on time for once, but he didn’t know where she’d gone from there.
Contrary to what she thought, he wasn’t trailing her.
Yet.
After today, he was reconsidering.
‘No.’ The message that came back was clear and simple, but it was a response. That was more than he’d gotten all night. He’d tried calling more times than he’d like to admit, but she either had her phone muted to avoid the crank calls or she was screening him.
His shoulders unkinked. The terse answer made him feel better. Anger he could take.
He slid the phone back into his pocket and waited in the shadows. The night air was damp, but spring was here. He was good at waiting. She’d come home eventually.
He planted a foot against the wall behind him and used it to prop him up.
‘Show yourself, you little dweeb.’
He kept his gaze on the cars passing by and the pedestrians moving along the sidewalk. He paid particular attention to anyone who lingered or had a camera or video phone. Hell, these days that was everybody, but he was looking for anyone who stood out. Anyonesuspicious. He didn’t know if her heavy breather kept his harassment to the digital world or if he was looking to expand.
A bad feeling rumbled inside Darien’s chest. The asshole had definitely gotten under her skin. He didn’t like seeing her scared. And the idea that she’d thought he was behind the calls? He couldn’t stomach it.
A car pulled up at the kerb, and the driver hurried around to open the back door. Darien’s chin came up when he saw R
ielle take the man’s hand and rise out of the car.
Who the hell was this?
Another set of long legs appeared, and a tall blonde exited the car too. Out of the other back door came a guy with shoulders a mile wide and a jaw that looked like it could crack fists if anyone took a swing at it.
Darien’s eyes narrowed. The man looked familiar.
He watched closely, not liking having the guy around Rielle. He looked like a tough son of a bitch. She was vulnerable right now, too susceptible to someone with strength like that. Someone who would be able to protect her, but might not have her best interests at heart.
Darien’s thumbs were hooked in the pockets of his jeans, but his fingers curled.
As icy as she looked, the blonde gave Rielle a warm hug. The woman was beautiful. Stunning, but he preferred the pretty girl-next-door type. The type with long light-brown hair.
His fingers curled all the way into fists when she turned towards Mr Tough Guy. Instead of pulling her into an embrace, the guy clucked her affectionately under the chin. His arm swung around the blonde’s waist, and she practically melted against his side.
Darien’s fingers unclenched. All right, that was better. Almost acceptable.
Until the guy rubbed Rielle’s arm. His face was serious, and she nodded obediently.
Darien nearly came off the wall. If she needed protection, he was going to be the one to provide it – not Mr Rough and Tough Woman Magnet. The guy turned so the streetlamp lit him better, and Darien’s unhappiness grew when he saw the guy’s craggy good looks and…a limp? It was slight, but the guy had a limp.
The back of Darien’s head bumped against the brick masonry. Holy hell. That was Jason Sloan.
The three said their goodbyes, and the Sloan Gunman and the Nordic Goddess got back into their car. The driver pulled away from the kerb as Rielle walked towards the building entrance.
He stepped out of the shadows well before she got there so he wouldn’t startle her. ‘Know many famous hockey players?’ he asked.
She stopped a good ten feet away from him with her keys in hand. He saw her slip one between her fingers as she curled her hand into a fist.
Good girl.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I told you we needed to talk.’
‘And I told you I didn’t want you knowing where I live. I knew you followed me home the other night. You’ve been following me everywhere.’
‘This afternoon was a coincidence.’ It had been a pure fluke that he’d seen her at the Tidal Basin, but their paths had crossed for a reason.
He wasn’t philosophical, but he did believe in fate.
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I don’t blame you, but it’s the truth.’ She was skittish. He’d known that from the first moment he’d met her, but he didn’t blame her for getting tired of him sneaking up on her. He didn’t mean to do it. It was just the nature of his line of work.
Dubious as it was.
‘I checked at your office, but you weren’t there. After what you told me this afternoon, I got uneasy. Sue me.’
‘I just might.’
He scowled. She was trying to skirt around him to get to the door. The building was a fortress – he’d checked it out – but the doorman was based at a reception desk inside. It was a major fault in the system. Tenants had to enter the building before they were under a watchful eye. There were cameras, but they had blind spots – like the one over his head.
He jerked his head towards the kerb. ‘At least you had someone looking out for you.’
She looked over her shoulder uneasily, but then realised he was talking about her ride. ‘I went to dinner with friends, but I don’t have to explain that to you.’
‘He was pretty touchy-feely for a friend.’
‘Who?’ She shook her head. ‘Jason?’
Darien raked a hand through his hair. ‘Well, at least we know he can handle himself.’
She stared at him for a long moment, and her hand with the jagged key dropped to her side. ‘Are you jealous?’
Darien stared at her. His jaw clenched so hard, a muscle popped. Was he jealous of a guy who had money out the wazoo? Someone who could take her out on the town with the public’s eye upon them? Someone he could only pretend to be when the situation called for it?
‘Hell, yes.’
The green-eyed monster inside him was roaring.
Chapter Seven
His response disarmed her. He was in the shadows, but she was in the light and he could see her face. Her cheeks turned pink, and she took a small step back. She adjusted the purse that hung over her shoulder. She didn’t seem to know what to say.
Neither did he.
The tips of Darien’s ears felt hot. Damn it. He could stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching, but this wisp of a thing had the balls of his feet itching. He didn’t understand what was going on between them any better than she did. But yeah, he was jealous.
He fumbled in his pocket and grabbed his phone. ‘Here.’
She looked at it dubiously. ‘What do you want me to do with that?’
‘Look at it.’ He punched through the menus and pulled up his list of recent calls. ‘I’m not your heavy breather. This proves it.’
OK, that wasn’t totally true. She’d made him breathe hard more than a few times, but not over a phone.
Her eyes narrowed, but she approached carefully. She took the phone and scanned the list.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. Letting her see that went against almost every rule he’d been taught. He was letting her past the velvet rope, and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. But he’d be damned if he’d let her think he was the one causing her distress.
She went back in the history, looking for her number. The rest should mean nothing to her. What mattered was that the only calls on his phone that matched the ones on hers were from ‘Mel’.
‘Whoa. Hold on there.’ He grabbed his phone back when her nimble fingers tried to navigate to other areas. She didn’t need any more than that. ‘Good try.’
She folded her arms around her waist. ‘That doesn’t prove anything. You could have another phone.’
He glared at her. Seriously? She wouldn’t give an inch with him. ‘Now you’re just being difficult.’
He dug into his pocket again. ‘You want another phone? Here. Another phone.’
The stubborn look on her face faltered, but she didn’t look happy that she’d won. Only she hadn’t. When she checked the new phone’s call history, there was nothing there.
‘It’s a burner phone. For you. Only give the number to people you trust. He shouldn’t be able to find you there.’
The air between them softened. ‘You did this for me?’
‘Yeah.’ He’d also programmed his number in under Mel. It was best for both of them if they kept it that way.
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. ‘Now tell me more about these calls you’ve been getting.’
She glanced around nervously. The foot traffic around them had dwindled, and the wind had almost subsided. The arrival of spring had brought warmer temperatures, but the stillness around them made her shoulders hunch. She tucked the phone into her purse. ‘I don’t really want to talk about this here.’
‘Then invite me up.’
He waited a beat. And then two. His adrenalin was on the verge of pumping when she licked her lips.
‘No.’
He reined himself in. Seeing her with Jason Sloan had made him territorial, but that wasn’t why he’d come here. He needed to keep on task. ‘You said the calls started on the Luxxor line, right?’
She nodded.
‘Have you noticed any clients who’ve stuck around the office too long? Anyone who likes to talk with you too much? Anyone who might seem more interested in you than his escort?’
‘Yo–’
‘And don’t say me.’
She let out a long breath. ‘A few, but none I can’t h
andle.’
‘I know you can handle them.’ His ribs were still sore. He’d been on the receiving end of her defensive manoeuvre earlier today. ‘But I want their names.’
She had rock-solid instincts. He’d saw more merit in those than in any call logs and number tracking. Computers just spewed back the data they were given. He’d put more stock in the body language she’d read.
‘I already gave them to the detective.’
‘Then you can give them to me too. I also want the ones who’ve been dismissive or curt or generally give you a bad feeling.’
She touched a blossom on the tree beside them. It was another cherry tree, with blossoms that hung still and heavy. A blanket of them covered the sidewalk beneath her feet like snow. ‘Most of our clients are very nice. Quiet. Some are embarrassed. They don’t want to draw attention to why they’re there.’
‘And you’re nice to them.’
‘I’m polite. It’s my job.’
‘Well, someone noticed.’
She pushed her hair over her shoulder, and he saw a tremble in her hand. ‘I don’t know who. Honestly, most of them are harmless.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Harmless? Rielle, you do know that you work in the sex industry, right?’
She gaped at him before her mouth closed with a snap. She looked around hurriedly. ‘Be quiet!’
He stepped towards her, but stopped when he remembered the camera. Shit, the ways she played with his head. ‘What do you think happens when those couples leave that fancy office of yours?’
She folded her arms in upon herself.
‘They’re not all going to royal balls or having high tea.’
‘Some of them are,’ she hissed.
‘Beauty,’ he said patiently. ‘They’re dropping drawers and doing the nasty.’
She flinched. Hard. But then she threw up her hands and started to march past him fast.
He hooked his arm about her waist and pulled her back into the shadows with him. ‘You need to wake up. Someone is obsessing over you, and you work in a dangerous field. I don’t care if you do sit at a desk all day.’
‘You think my job is dangerous? You’re the one with bullet wounds.’
His hand tightened round her waist. She was too observant for his sanity. ‘It’s not going to attract the best people as clientele.’
Courting Danger Page 10