Her boss shook hands with a firm grip. “Good to meet you. I’ve been hearing about your efforts.”
“I’d be glad to brief you more, at your convenience.” Hawke sensed skepticism and couldn’t blame Mac for that.
Mac narrowed his eyes and said, “I’ll see what can be arranged.” It was more of a challenge than an invitation. “You’re here as Emilia’s bodyguard?”
“My company handles executive protection, not quite the same,” Hawke said. “We don’t fit the image of the muscled guy in a black suit. Our part is more about uncovering and defusing trouble than stopping a bullet. Although I wouldn’t flinch at doing so if that’s what it took.”
Mac studied him but didn’t offer any comeback. Hawke had few pet peeves, but he disliked being thought of as a bodyguard. Protection was about so much more than that.
“I need to keep moving,” Mac said, then he grabbed a glass of water and disappeared into the crowd.
“I’m not sure he believes my team is the best one for the job.”
Emilia touched his arm. “It’s not you.” She stood close. “I know him; he’s just worried.”
Hawke put aside his drink and escorted Emilia back to the activity. His instincts told him there was more happening than was visible on the surface. Mac had been more intense than the circumstances dictated. Possibly, he’d had conversations that had been less than encouraging.
It all seemed social and innocuous—but that couldn’t be. Emilia’s boss wouldn’t have been so adamant about her attendance unless it was crucial. Hawke understood action and confrontation, more than polite smiling and innuendo. He’d have to be a quick study if he planned to come away with increased knowledge of the situation.
Winding through the crowd toward a prominent booth, Hawke spotted the guy in the navy blazer. He didn’t look any happier than he had earlier. He was alone, walking across the floor toward them. Hawke watched closely as the guy approached.
Blocking the path, he said, “Emilia Draper…I’m shocked you had the nerve to show up here.”
Emilia leaned away from the guy. “I have as much right to be here as you do, Roston.” Then she turned to Hawke. “This is Roston Hugh of Standard Bio, a competitor.”
That clarified much. Professional jealousy could spark conflict. Hawke didn’t say anything, just waited to see how the guy would respond.
“Who’s this dude?” Roston said. “Looks ex-military. I know the stance, the muscled physique that doesn’t look right in a suit jacket.” He clenched his fists and inched closer.
Hawke glared at him for effect. The guy wasn’t worth the effort. If he thought a verbal slight would get under Hawke’s skin, he’d need to think again. It took a lot more than a lame insult to provoke him.
“I’m here to mingle,” Emilia said, then began to push past. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“What if I don’t?” Roston said, unmoving. His gaze locked on to Emilia, a warning. “What if I don’t excuse you for what you’re doing? It’s good that your dirty laundry was aired. Those posts were extremely revelatory. Have you no defense to the claims against you?”
Emilia got in his face. “I don’t need to justify anything. But you obviously do, as your manners are atrocious.”
Roston laughed, but it was a guttural sound lacking any humor. Hawke smelled alcohol on his breath, one more signal that this had gone too far. “You need to give it up, Emilia. You can’t cut it in a man’s world. You think your little project isn’t known about, but it is. And I resent you thinking you can get an edge on my company.”
Hawke put his hand on Emilia’s back; she was trembling with anger.
The best way to deal with danger was to walk away or cool it down before tempers flared too hot. In a calm, deep voice, Hawke said, “This is a place for you to make your company known and well thought of. I hear there are plenty of investors here today.” He spoke slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.
Roston paused, and Emilia took a step back.
“For now, Emilia is scheduled for a meeting, and she’s late as it is,” Hawke said. He made a point not to be too direct or assertive. He kept it casual, almost as though he was bored.
Roston’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t object. Hawke looked away, breaking eye contact, and promptly guided Emilia away. When there was no pursuit, he stopped and said, “You handled yourself well back there.”
“Maybe so, but I’m falling apart now.” Emilia crossed her arms. “I was scared he was going to get violent. Did you see how he looked at me? If looks could kill…”
“I know the type,” Hawke said. “The easiest thing would have been to let the interaction sink to his level. But getting physical would have put you at risk, and maybe others. It wasn’t worth the satisfaction. Although it would have felt good to take the guy down. One sock in the jaw and he’d have been out cold.”
Emilia gave him a tiny smile. “Ex-military indeed. He didn’t realize whom he was antagonizing. He was fortunate that you maintained control.”
“It made sense to cool things down before they turned ugly,” Hawke said. The encounter had piqued his interest. “Looks like you have another biotech company who wants to be first.”
“It’s impossible to keep up with what competitors are working on,” Emilia said. “It is realistic that Roston’s company is working on a similar project. It’s not like rare diseases are proprietary. If a biotech firm puts in the years of effort, they have a right to develop a cure.”
“What I’m wondering is how far he would go to knock you out of the game?”
Emilia sighed. “Unfortunately, I have a similar question. Does he have the connections to secretly lobby that campaign against me?” She frowned. “Would he hire some thug to break into my condo?”
Hawke wouldn’t put it past him but didn’t want to add to Emilia’s upset. She was clearly shaken by the incident. “Should we tell Mac what just happened?”
“I’ll tell him another time,” Emilia said. “I don’t want to bring it up now. The purpose of attending this convention was to calm things down. Yet it seems my presence has had the opposite effect.”
“Let’s run damage control, then, and get you out of here.” Hawke felt protective. He fumed over Roston’s treatment of Emilia and didn’t want to take a chance that the guy would stir up more animosity. All he needed was to instigate more uproar at this public event. It was better to get Emilia on safe ground than to give the enemy any opportunity to harm her.
Chapter 10
Emilia left the event, relieved that it was over. It would have been an ordeal in any case. Yet considering what had happened, it was worse. Hawke helped her into the Jeep then took a minute to text Ryker. “I’ll have him add Roston Hugh to our list to investigate, along with his lab.”
Then he started up the engine and said, “Where are we going?”
“I need a drink,” Emilia said.
“I know just the place. We can hang out for a while without interruptions.”
During the short drive, Emilia tried to subdue her emotions. She was upset and disappointed. Her goal had been to present a good image of herself and her company. Instead, the event had been another disaster.
Roston was well known in the biotech world. If he was antagonized, there was no chance he’d keep quiet about it. It was just as well that she’d ducked out early. She couldn’t have faced another challenge, and cringed to think of the attendees talking behind her back.
It had to stop, but she had no idea how, as she couldn’t seem to get on course. Her intentions were good, but forces pushed against her at every turn. It was disheartening, but she couldn’t allow herself to give in, since there was so much at stake.
Hawke startled her out of reverie. “Who is this Roston guy? Why does he harbor resentment toward you?”
Emilia leaned against the headrest and looked out at the city that had seemed friendly before, the place she’d grown up—but it was starting to feel unsafe. “He’s an industry leade
r. His firm has produced some stellar products, and my guess is that he doesn’t like being outdone.”
“Clearly, he has a problem with that.”
“The details of lab tests aren’t shared like favorite recipes. We keep our experiments private, until ready for release.”
“Then it could be that he didn’t get riled up until the media leaked details.”
Emilia thought about that. “It could be, yet I don’t think so. The way Roston spoke gave me the impression that he had prior knowledge. He appeared overly sure of his position, as opposed to a person who’d recently discovered the controversy.”
Hawke glanced at her. “If you get tired of science, you can join my team. That’s very perceptive of you.”
“Before you think too much of me,” Emilia said, “I’ve been in this industry long enough to pick up on stuff. It seems like Roston took up a counter-position before being prompted. Professional jealousy is one thing, but his reaction went deeper.”
“Good point.”
Emilia was still rattled. “Do you think Roston could be a physical threat? I know it sounds crazy, but is it possible that he’d actually do me harm?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I’d err on the side of caution,” Hawke said. “I didn’t like the look in his eyes, and his body language indicated potential violence. I know the type, so I’d watch him closely.”
“He has a temper. I’ve noticed that before, but he’s usually kept it under control. I hadn’t foreseen that he’d attack me, even verbally.”
“A hot temper can lead to violence,” Hawke said. “The guy’s got more invested in this situation than meets the eye. I’d steer clear of him, and if you have any dealings, make sure you aren’t alone.”
That didn’t make Emilia feel much better. The idea that she had to fear a competitor was alarming. “I really need that drink.”
“We’re almost there,” Hawke said. “It’s downtown; I didn’t figure you’d want to wait.”
The corner bistro was in a brick building with a front patio and a downstairs bar. It was the end of the workday and the place was packed. It had carved wood-framed doors, a marble bar, and velvet-covered chairs. The flooring was large black and white diamonds that ran partially up the wall. The trendy place exhibited a sense of fun.
Hawke guided her to one of the few open tables. He had his hand on her lower spine, his touch warming her heart. Menus were on the table, so Emilia checked out the offerings. She chose a French rosé, even though she was tempted to order something stronger.
The waitress came by and took the orders. Hawke picked a craft beer then ordered chips and salsa to go with it. Food would be good, since Emilia planned to drink more than one glass of wine. She was rattled but so glad that she hadn’t attended the event alone.
“It’s nice to chill a little,” Emilia said. “And it’s really good to have you with me.” She meant that in more ways than just as protection.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Hawke’s blue eyes sent a spike of heat through her.
Emilia’s gaze locked with his, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say more. All he did was smile, which made her cheeks warm. She had to get over this. It would be so embarrassing if he suspected that she was sweet on him.
The drinks arrived, and Emilia took a few sips. Hawke munched on chips then swigged his beer. He looked so damn handsome all decked out. He was a heartthrob in jeans and t-shirt, but was equally impressive in a shirt and jacket.
Then he took the jacket off. Emilia forgot to breathe. He’d worn a tightly fitted light blue shirt that hugged his muscles like it was painted on. As he turned to hang the jacket over the back of the chair, his biceps flexed, and the edge of his sleeve strained under the muscle.
“That’s better,” Hawke said.
It certainly was.
Emilia reined herself in. If not for the current trauma, she wouldn’t have a chance with Hawke. It was Friday night, so he’d be out with some gorgeous woman. He wouldn’t be spending time with her, that was for sure.
Always the friend, never the girlfriend. Emilia needed to remember that.
And Hawke didn’t act any differently than normal, which snuffed out her tiny ray of hope for more. He drank and ate as if he was with one of the guys, as she supposed he was. He considered her a pal, not a date. But that didn’t stop her from ogling while she had the chance.
Hawke was a close friend, a relationship she valued. She knew him better than most did, having shared so many years together. He was loyal, considerate, strong…and loving. Where was she going with that? What in the world did she think was going to happen?
The alcohol went straight to Emilia’s head and she blurted out, “Why haven’t you married?” As soon as she said it, she wanted to crawl under the table.
Hawke’s eyes widened. “Marriage, huh?” He took a gulp of beer. “You ask the tough questions. A lot of guys got married, even started families while in the service. No reason not to, I suppose.”
“But you didn’t, even though you’re so…”
“Yes?”
“Desirable,” Emilia said. “You don’t need me to tell you that.”
“It’s not that simple. The intervening years since we spent time together have changed me.”
“In what way?” Emilia said.
“Let’s just say I have baggage and leave it at that.” Hawke flagged the waitress for another beer, then pointed at Emilia’s mostly empty glass.
“I’ll have another rosé.” Emilia stared across the table. “You don’t get off that easy. We’re friends, remember? You get to know everything about me, so it’s only fair that you share what’s on your mind.”
Hawke hesitated. “I suppose I wouldn’t wish myself on any unsuspecting woman.”
That made no sense at all. Any woman would welcome Hawke with open arms—at least a woman with any sense.
“I have a dark side,” Hawke said. “I’m not whining about it, but there are things I just have to live with. Memories that have shaped me into the man I am.”
Emilia got the picture. She wasn’t naïve and knew that the service must have been rough. Yet she didn’t agree that made Hawke ineligible. Quite the contrary, as any woman worthy of him wouldn’t be put off.
“It’s not that I don’t enjoy women.” Hawke turned on the charm. “Because I do.”
Emilia had steered the conversation the wrong way. She’d encouraged him to fall into the arms of another woman. Of course he enjoyed women. He didn’t need to remind her of that.
“I’m just not looking for anything permanent,” Hawke said.
Great, now she’d burned that bridge too. It was time to change subjects. The drink refills arrived, so she sipped her wine, hoping it would numb her emotions.
Hawke talked about his team, which was a welcome break. He wanted to encourage her of their support, their skill, and their dedication. It did make her feel better, but it didn’t get her attention off Hawke. She had a mild buzz from the wine and was more endeared to him by the minute.
The more he talked, the more she wanted to hear. She wanted to be with him, listen to him, support him. But she was allowing desire to carry her away. She craved being the woman Hawke wanted permanently, and barely resisted telling him so.
The danger that threaded through her life had made her desperate, that was all. She imagined Hawke carrying her away, taking her someplace where no one would find them. The thought of being alone with him made her tingle from head to toe.
But Emilia dared not push it too far. She could cling to the visions of Hawke in her mind, but she’d better not reveal them openly. An unwelcome thought made her panic: if she crossed the line, it might affect the strength of their friendship, and that was one thing she couldn’t let happen.
“Are you listening?” Hawke said. “You seem preoccupied.”
“Yes, yes…uh, you said that Jake and Amanda don’t get along.”
The corners of Hawke’s mouth tweaked up in a tin
y smile. “I said that ten minutes ago.” His expression was warm and understanding, so inviting. “You need to eat,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs to the dining room.”
Emilia agreed, and tried to pretend it was all friendly, that she didn’t feel what she did. But she feared she was doing a lousy job. On the way up the stairs, she teetered, but Hawke caught her in one arm before she fell. The moment was suspended in time, with Hawke holding her tight, while she regained her balance.
Hawke kept his strong arm around her, his heat radiating through her. She smelled the manliness of him and felt his closeness. It nearly did her in. When they got to the table, she ordered a wine refill. God, she needed it.
The aromas in the dining room were delectable. The tables had white tablecloths and candles. Hawke had bourbon on ice, and he looked so masculine sipping from the short glass. Huge planters filled with flowers lined the walls, making the scene utterly romantic.
Had Hawke planned it that way? Emilia needed to eat and get a handle on her thoughts. But she didn’t want to lose the euphoria of the brief intimacy with Hawke. The recent drama seemed far away. All she wanted to do was drink and relax—and be with Hawke.
Since they had the evening together, Hawke took his time. He ordered shrimp cocktails, one for each of them, which came in crystal bowls lined with ice. Emilia dipped a bite into the sauce then savored the delicious mouthful. She was enjoying herself, and it really felt like a date.
Hawke was having a good time. He joked and laughed, making her smile. For what seemed like hours, they talked about old times. Those were good memories, worth revisiting.
While they waited for their meals, Hawke focused on her. It was so nice, and she didn’t want their time together to end. But he was worried; his blue eyes darkened.
“I’m concerned about you, Emilia.” Hawke took her hand. “I can’t stand that you are in danger.” He kissed her knuckles. “I want…to be near you.”
Chapter 11
When Hawke looked into Emilia’s eyes, his emotions took over. He cared deeply for her and wanted to protect her. She had been under stress, so it was good to see her relax a bit. The wine had affected her, making her cheeks flushed.
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