by Francis Ray
Tennyson shot up from his desk, his face enraged. He had added the second bodyguard two days ago. He was running scared.
Rio had given Jason the code to place a bug on Hampton’s phone. He hadn’t contacted Tennyson and, as Skylar had suggested, Hampton had taken his wife to St. Croix.
Rio straightened and went to Tennyson’s desk. The middle-aged man’s thin lips tightened beneath his mustache. Behind the guise of a businessman was a poisonous snake. His eyes were filled with hate. He picked up the phone. “I’ll have you arrested for breaking and entering, and for assault.”
Shane held up his iPhone. “That might be difficult to prove when the authorities see he was attacked first, see the weapon your first guy had, and hear Rio warning him to not reach for said weapon.”
Tennyson slammed the phone down. He looked beyond Rio and Shane to Blade, who stood in the doorway near the first bodyguard, sitting on the floor rocking with his hand in his lap.
“Your secretary promised to hold all calls.” Blade leaned against the doorjamb.
“You bas—”
Blade slowly straightened. “Say it and give me the pleasure of stuffing your teeth down your throat.”
“He’s mine,” Rio reminded Blade.
“Remember, Rio,” Shane said.
Tennyson’s gaze snapped back to Rio. “I’ve heard that name before.”
“You’ll hear it again, and you won’t like it unless you call your dogs off,” Rio told him.
Tennyson straightened the jacket of the five-thousand-dollar fine wool suit and took a seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lying.” Rio leaned across the desk. If he were closer, no power on earth would keep him from beating the living hell out of Tennyson. “If you send someone else, once I finish with them I’m coming for you.”
“I’m a respected businessman.” Tennyson idly picked up a gold pen on his desk. “You know the way out.”
Rio straightened. “You’ve been warned.”
Tennyson’s hand tightened on the pen. “I’d heard that you were some kind of Rambo. Guess you aren’t so much if you have to threaten an innocent man.”
“You’re going down, Tennyson,” Rio threatened. “I’m going to see to it.”
Slowly, Tennyson came to his feet. “You know nothing of what I’m capable of. In every war, there are innocent causalities.” He smirked. “Retribution is a son-of-a-bitch, isn’t it?”
Rio jerked Tennyson by his silk tie and hauled the man halfway across his desk. Blade and Shane rushed to grab Rio’s arms. “Harm her and I’ll unleash hell on you and there’ll be no place to hide.”
“That’s enough,” Blade said. “Remember the promise.”
“His eyes are rolling back, Rio,” Shane said.
Rio shoved Tennyson away as if he were distasteful.
“What’s going on here?” a male voice asked. “Mr. Tennyson, your secretary called.”
Blade turned to see a wide-eyed security guard. Extending his hand, Blade went to greet the gray-haired man. “Blade Navarone. We were engaging in a security practice drill with two of Mr. Tennyson’s bodyguards to test their abilities.” He bowed his head briefly. “I’m afraid they forgot we were doing a practice drill and…” Blade looked down at the two injured men. “Suffered the consequences. Perhaps you should call an ambulance.”
The guard pulled out his radio, then paused when he saw Tennyson sitting behind his desk, his breathing labored, his tie loose, and his shaky hand at his throat. “Mr. Tennyson, are you all right?”
He leaned forward in his chair. “You fool! Do I look all right?”
The security guard flinched as if he’d been struck. “I’m sorry, sir. I—”
“Dammit, man, call us an ambulance,” the second bodyguard cried. “I think the bastard shattered my knee.”
The guard looked overwhelmed.
Blade took out his cell phone and dialed 911. “Perhaps you should go downstairs and wait for them.”
“I’ll do that.” The man left in a hurry.
Blade saw that the secretary was gone and came back into Tennyson’s office. “We probably have ten minutes max before an ambulance arrives. Probably the police as well. I say we make good use of the time so we won’t have to come back and have another…” He paused meaningfully. “… practice drill.”
Tennyson glared at Rio, but he kept his mouth shut.
* * *
Blade was right about the police arriving with the ambulance. So did the head of building security. It helped that the man knew Shane and obviously didn’t like Tennyson. Once the police officer realized Blade’s identity, he called his sergeant who called his captain who called the chief of police who called the mayor.
Tennyson and his two bodyguards corroborated the story Blade made up. The mayor and chief of police barely glanced at Tennyson. Their focus was on Blade and the two men with him.
“I’ve always heard you had top security,” the mayor said. “Seems I heard right.”
“Thank you,” Blade said, trying to keep an eye on Rio.
“Since you’re in town, why don’t we all go out to lunch? A good friend of mine has a small yacht and an excellent chef,” the mayor urged. “Maybe this time I’ll be able to convince you to build here.”
“Chicago is a great city,” the chief of police said.
Blade smiled. “Never hurts to talk.” Or to show Tennyson who held the trump card. “We accept the invitation to lunch.”
“Mayor.” Tennyson got to his feet behind his desk, but after a glance at Rio the man didn’t move toward the city official. “I’d like to take you to lunch or dinner anytime your schedule is free.”
The mayor never lost his jovial smile. “I’ll have my secretary check my schedule.” He turned to Blade. “Let’s go. Nothing like eating on the water.”
Blade wanted to laugh. The mayor had just blown Tennyson off—and from the man’s angry expression, he knew it. “Sounds good. Our car is downstairs. After you, Mayor.”
Shane, having kept himself between Rio and Tennyson, followed Rio and the other two men out the door.
Blade looked over his shoulder to Tennyson. Pure hatred stared back at Blade. “Come after me or mine again, and you won’t know what hit you.” He left the door open and joined the chattering group of men.
Except Rio. He stared straight ahead, his eyes cold. Blade, Shane, and Rio knew that Tennyson might be their man, but they had no way of proving it.
* * *
As soon as they were seated in the back of the limo, Rio pulled out his phone. Blade and Shane did the same.
Skylar answered before the second ringtone. “Please tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m all right,” he told her, still trying to control the urge to stop the car and go teach Tennyson a lesson he wouldn’t forget.
“You don’t sound all right. Was there trouble?”
“Nothing to worry about,” he told her, unsure if Blade would tell Sierra everything or not. They didn’t keep secrets from each other.
“Well, I am, and I won’t stop until you’re back here holding me.”
Warmth replaced some of the anger. “We’re having lunch with the mayor and, if I know the mayor, it will be a long one.”
“As long as you’re with the mayor, I feel better. Thanks for calling. I was worried.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, and I still worry. Hurry home. I have something to show you. Bye.”
Rio’s mind went into overdrive as he thought of what Skylar might be talking about. Probably something to tempt— He slowly turned to see Blade and Shane studying him. “What?”
“You had this look on your face I’ve never seen before,” Shane said
“Your voice changed,” Blade added.
“So?” Rio looked at them sideways.
“So, we’re happy for you,” Blade said as he and Shane both caught Rio around the neck
and laughed.
* * *
If was after nine that night when Rio pulled up in front of the castle. Blade was in the passenger seat. Rio had been right about the long lunch, which included a cruise and late cocktails.
“That bastard Tennyson is going to keep coming,” Rio gritted out. “He’s probably going after her because he sees her as the reason his plan to sneak in didn’t work.”
Blade laid a hand on Rio’s tense shoulder. “And we’ll stop him. He won’t get by us. He’s not going to get anywhere near Skylar. She’s a strong woman.”
Rio nodded. “And stubborn.”
“And you wouldn’t want her to be any other way,” Blade said. “Sierra is the same.”
“You have more patience than I do,” Rio told him.
“You’ll find out that when you really care about a woman, you’re capable of doing a lot of things you once thought impossible.”
“We’re having dinner with her parents tomorrow night,” Rio said slowly, trepidation in his voice.
“You never cared what other people thought about you, unless it was important to me. Now it’s important to you. I’ve seen you with Skylar. You’re different, happier, and so is she.” Blade laughed. “A woman can sure change a man’s outlook on life.”
“You can say that again,” Rio said, his brows bunched.
Blade opened his door. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”
Rio got out of the Jeep and pocketed the keys. Once he saw Skylar and the surprise, he’d come back and put the Jeep in the garage.
Blade punched in the code and opened the door. Rio entered behind him. He saw Sierra in a large terry-cloth bathrobe and flat sandals. He frowned when he didn’t see Skylar.
“Hi and bye, Rio.” Sierra caught Blade’s hand. “I missed you. We’re going to the grotto.”
“Good night, Rio.” His arm around his wife’s waist, Blade kissed her on the cheek.
Sierra stopped at the top of the stairs heading down to the heated underground pool and snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot. Skylar went to get something in her room. She said if she wasn’t back down when you arrived, you should go up and knock.”
She clearly hadn’t forgotten, but Rio was already hurrying for the stairs. He took them two at a time. Conner was standing guard at her door. “I’ll take over from here.”
Conner nodded. “’Night, Rio. I’m turning in. See you in the morning.”
“’Night and thanks.” He waited until he could tell by the sound of Conner’s boots that he was off the stairs. He knocked on Skylar’s door.
“Come in.”
He opened the door, saw Skylar standing at the foot of the bed with her left arm propped against the bedpost, and knew his Jeep wasn’t going to get moved for a long, long time. Shutting the door without taking his eyes from her, he reached for the button of his shirt.
Chapter 16
Skylar was nervous and, although she tried not to show it, she knew Rio could tell. They were meeting her parents and maternal grandparents for dinner tonight at Casa de Serenidad, where they were staying. Since reservations were difficult to obtain, she’d booked their rooms when the charity event was just an idea.
She’d issued the invitation because she wanted them to see how happy she was so they’d finally stop trying to get her to quit and move back to Boston. At the time she thought she’d be staying at the same hotel. Thanks to Sierra and Blade’s graciousness, that had changed—and so had her life.
Thanks also to the handsome man walking beside her. She looked up at Rio, tall, handsome, with a mysterious edge that had women in the lobby of the hotel turning for a second or third look. He’s mine, she wanted to say. Thank goodness that when she’d blurted it out the other day, it hadn’t scared him off. Rio didn’t want a permanent relationship. While it saddened her, as she’d told him she was going to enjoy every second with him.
Last night was a prime example. They’d loved each other most of the night and awakened this morning for more of the same.
“You still think we should have come early?” Rio asked as they passed the registration desk of the hotel.
“Yes. They can’t wait to see you,” she admitted, some of her nervousness returning. She was her father’s little girl, no matter that she was grown and gone. He still thought she needed guidance and protection. She’d warned all of them not to ask—translation, drill—Rio about his past or his family. But her father was a loose cannon and unpredictable at times.
Rio took her hand. “It’ll be all right. Your parents love you.”
“They’re also overprotective, and that goes double for my father.” She almost bit her lower lip before she stopped herself. She loved and respected her parents, but there was no way she was going to let them ruin things between her and Rio.
Her hand tightened on his, and when he glanced down, probably thinking she was even more worried as they neared the restaurant, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him. “With you, I can face anything, do anything.”
He smiled. “Of course. You’re my little warrior.”
“Works for me.” She grinned up at him.
“Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and approached the maître d’. “Reservations for Skylar Dupree.”
“Yes, sir.” The man in a black tux bowed to Skylar. “Ms. Dupree?”
“Yes,” she answered and scanned the restaurant. “My parents and grandparents are probably already here.”
He smiled and picked up two menus. “They were just seated at one of our best tables. It’s in a quiet area, as you requested. I’ll show you to their table.”
“Thank you.” Skylar was infinitely glad she’d requested a quiet area when she made the reservations. She hoped her father would behave, but she wouldn’t bet on it.
They hadn’t gone five steps before Rio said, “To the far right at the round table in the alcove.”
Skylar tried to look around the maître d’ and failed. “I’m too short.”
“Another time I might lift you up,” Rio whispered.
She giggled and glanced up at him. “I kind of like the sound of that.”
The maître d’ stepped aside. “Here you are.”
Skylar turned and saw her parents and grandparents staring at her. For a second, she thought she might have spoken the words too loud—or perhaps she wore a look on her face that clearly said, I can’t wait for us to make love again.
Rio’s fingers tapping against the small of her back brought her back on track. She realized they weren’t staring at her, they were staring at Rio. “Hi, it’s so good to see all of you.” She hugged her maternal grandparents. “Grandfather and Grandmother, you both look wonderful.” Next she went to her parents and rested her cheek against each of theirs. “Mother and Father, it’s so good having you both here. You’re looking pretty incredible yourself.”
“So do you, Skylar.” Her mother caught her hand, her smile filled with warmth. She’d always been a beautiful woman, with thick black hair she wore in a razor cut. She wore a soft blue Valentino suit.
Her father’s hazel eyes narrowed. Any opposing attorney knew to watch out when Beau Dupree did that. “She’d look better in Boston.”
Behave, she mouthed. At fifty-eight, handsome, successful in his own right, and distinguished, her father liked doing things his way. He seemed to have forgotten that so did she. She reached for Rio’s arm.
“Rio, I’d like you to meet my maternal grandparents, Cecil and Olivia Carrington, and my parents, Beau and Meredith Dupree. Everyone, this is Rio Sanchez.”
“Good evening.” Rio shook hands with the men and nodded cordially to the women. They smiled, but he could tell they were sizing him up. He pulled Skylar’s seat out, then sat next to her at the round table.
The patient maître d’ handed them their menus. “Would you like anything to drink, or should I send the sommelier over?”
“We’ll have sparkling water,” Skylar said.
“You us
ually have wine with dinner,” her father said and picked up his own red wine.
“Not for a long time, Father. How was the trip? Do you like your rooms?” she asked.
“Your father was late getting to the airport as usual.” Meredith cast a scathing glance at her ex-husband sitting next to her. Their chairs were at least eighteen inches farther apart than everyone else’s.
“I told you, business detained me,” Beau said, his voice crisp.
“So you said.” Meredith picked up her glass of white wine. “The rooms are lovely, Skylar. Thank you for arranging everything. It’s so good seeing you again.”
“You look happy and beautiful,” her grandmother said, looking lovely in a toffee-colored St. John suit.
“Thank you,” Skylar replied.
Rio felt Skylar’s leg touch his. He was aware she was telling him he was the reason; he just hoped she didn’t keep doing that during dinner. “Have any of you been to New Mexico before?”
There were murmurs of “no.” “First time,” her father said. “Interesting town and friendly people. Like Boston, it’s a bit crowded.”
“Have you decided what you want to order?” Skylar looked over the top of the leather-bound menu. “The chef is excellent.”
“Don’t let Brandon hear you say that,” Rio said.
“Why? Who’s Brandon, Rio?” Her mother placed her wine on the table.
“It’s a bit complicated, Mrs. Dupree, but Brandon Grayson is a chef and owner of the Red Cactus restaurant. His mother is Ruth Grayson. His wife’s family owns this hotel. He and the executive chef here have a running feud about who is the best chef.” Rio looked at Skylar. “Brandon thinks you’re in his corner.”
Skylar smiled up at him. “He would be right, but Brandon’s restaurant is for casual dining. He’d understand.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Rio said.
Skylar just grinned up at him.
Her father cleared his throat. Skylar held up her menu. Rio slowly turned and caught the disapproving look of Mr. Dupree. Rio’s expression clearly said he didn’t care. Skylar’s father’s lips tightened.
“Let’s order.” Mrs. Dupree signaled the waiter. “Have you ever dined here, Rio?”