Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
C onner was running on a severe lack of caffeine and pure willpower by the time they landed in London. Customs agents met them at the aircraft and processed them and their luggage before they deplaned. Once again, he didn’t get a look at her passport, knowing Guardian wasn’t going to use her actual name, but if he could get a crack at one of the aliases, he might be able to find out some information about her.
Con kicked himself in the ass. Stalking the woman wouldn’t endear himself to anyone, including her, Guardian, or the powers that knew he was looking for her. He wanted that tech. He wanted it so bad he was salivating over the idea. And then the question was … who ran the tech that could tell he was searching for her? He’d masked everything.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Ronnie asked as the limo that met them at the airport pulled away from the curb. She’d put up the security divider as soon as she’d entered the car.
“Honestly, about the tech it took to know I was searching for you.” He turned to her. “I’d give my left arm to have a crack at that type of tech.”
“I’d rather you didn’t give up any body parts.” Ronnie laughed. “The tech is above my pay grade.”
“Which means it’s way above mine.” He turned to her. “Why? What are you hiding that’s so secret no one can know who you are or where to find you?”
“I have a cover ID. I told you, most of the time, I’m a fashion designer trying to build clientele. The gown Sophia was wearing was my creation.” Ronnie patted his hand. “You’ve got more information with that little tidbit than anyone else. Be happy with that for the time being.”
“I’m not really the type to settle for partial answers.”
“And that’s why Guardian trusts you to do your job.” She stared at him. “And they trust me to do mine. I’m an assassin, Con. Never forget that. My job is to kill monsters who prey on those who can’t defend themselves.” Her gut turned over the memories of when Charley had been taken. Never again would she feel helpless. Never again would she sit on the sidelines while others rushed to help. She worked every day to ensure her capabilities did not diminish. She wasn’t used often, but when she was called on, she was ready.
Con sat up and looked around the car. “Are you sure there isn’t a hidden microphone in this car?”
Ronnie lifted a brow and reached over to open a side panel. The lights were all green. “Nobody can hear a thing.”
Con left his seat, and knee-walked to the panel. He examined it, then whistled. “This isn’t your ordinary limo, is it?”
“No.” She smiled. “It has a few upgrades.”
His head whipped around. “ Please tell me it has hidden machine guns or missile launchers.”
She laughed. “Sorry. Just enhanced security. It can go through an explosion without being compromised. The next panel over should interest you.”
Con opened the panel and sat back on his heels. “Would you look at that?” He whistled long and low. “Sweetheart, come to daddy.” He traced the interfaces with his fingers. “How? This equipment turns this vehicle into a mobile command post. You could direct a war from that seat.”
“Or a recovery operation.” She’d witnessed her father do that exact thing. After the Siege, for safety reasons, they’d traveled to London. Her father was in constant contact with Charley and the recovery operation. He’d worked for days with little to no sleep. She took it upon herself to be with him and become his and her mother’s sentinel. Her brothers spelled her after a week, but she’d learned so much about her dad and what he was made of during that time. She looked out the window. She’d matured a bit more that week and learned to appreciate her father as the head of a global security industry. And because of the burden he voluntarily placed on his shoulders, she’d learned to understand his desire to protect her. The confines of that protection still grated, but not as much.
“Yeah, that, too,” Con said as he closed the panel. “What’s in here?” He opened the next one. “Oh … Pappy!” He held the bottle out. “The good stuff, too. Thirty years old.”
She chuckled. “Do you like bourbon?”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a drinker. I work out too damn hard to ruin it with alcohol. But I can appreciate good hooch. My father has a glass of this every Sunday night. It’s his treat to himself.”
“Alcohol as a treat is fine, but as you said, I work out too damn hard to drink too many empty calories. Besides, if you’re inebriated, you’re not in control.” The beer she’d shared with him was the first drink she’d had other than for appearances in at least six months. Normally, she held a glass of wine all night long and pretended to drink it. She didn’t like the diminished state alcohol put her in.
“And I would assume you, like me, hate not being in control.” He made his way back to the seat and flopped back into the corner, looking at her with those dark brown eyes.
“Detest the idea, actually,” she admitted.
Con sat up. “Shouldn’t we have turned here? Where are we going? I thought we had hotel reservations?”
She shook her head. “Next exit, and we’re staying at my flat. It has proper security and comm hookups.”
Con relaxed. “Ah, like the car.”
Ronnie nodded. However, every apartment she’d ever had was always fitted with security and comm accessibilities. It was a requirement of her father’s for all his children.
The flat she had in London was refurbished before she moved in. Her father’s construction and architect team had completed the upgrades but kept the old-world feel. The original crown moldings, medallions, fireplace surrounds, domes, cornices, skirting, and raised wall paneling were restored to their original glory. Her flat was actually three flats made into one, making her residence in the historic Lennox Gardens in Knightsbridge one of the largest in the area.
Her parents owned a mansion in Chiswick that had been under renovation for as long as she could remember. Her mother absolutely loved the place and worked relentlessly with historians and designers to return the home to its once glorious splendor while incorporating the updated requirements her father insisted the residence have. The last time they were in London, it wasn’t done. She doubted the mansion would ever be finished.
Con’s yawn brought her back from her drifting thoughts. “How long has it been since you slept?” She was tired. Last night, which turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions, was supposed to be a quick in and out. Intel and surveillance. Man, was that mission brief wrong.
“Ah … I worked all night the night before the party. But I grabbed a nap before I went to serve my time at forced socialization.” He yawned again. “After I check in, I’ll grab a nap.” He looked at her. His eyelids were heavy, and he had a bedroom come hither look in his eyes. “How many bedrooms do you have at your place?”
“Five.” She smiled at him and cocked her head. “So, no forced proximity. Sorry.”
“Who said I wanted the proximity forced?” He tapped her foot with his. “Don’t worry, I’d never force myself on you.”
She lifted an eyebrow and pointed at him. “Did we forget what I do for Guardian?” She’d be able to stop any advance the second she felt uncomfortable.
Con’s smile widened. “No. Are you armed now?”
“Heavily.” She stared back at him.
“In that purse?” He motioned to the small Hermes clutch she carried.
“No.” She sat forward and pulled the razor-sharp katana from her back holster. She had others. Her heels were detachable, and with a push of a button, they became handles of Damascus steel stiletto knives. Her belt held a garrot, and the bottom of her clutch held a hand-crafted, balanced throwing knife. She held the katana up and looked at the edge. “Not everything is as it seems.” She expertly slid the katana home and leaned back.
Con blinked at her. “Evidently not.” He frowned a bit. “Wait … were you armed at the gala?”
She smiled at him. “Oh, yes.” She had a firearm strapped to her thigh. Uncomfortable as hell. The average person wouldn’t know how tight you had to strap the holster to keep it from sliding as the muscle in your leg flexed and released.
“Damn, that’s hot.” Con cleared his throat and sat up. “Woman, I don’t think I could want you any more than I do right now.” His voice was low and growly.
She stared at him. The intense heat in his eyes lit up her insides as much as the low rumble of his voice. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“I respect what you do and the skill it takes to do it.” He shook his head slowly. “But no, I’m not afraid of you.” He reached out and took her hand. “I saw the woman you are when you cared for and calmed down the computer nerd doing his first high-altitude jump. I saw the woman who talked to two very scared and abused women and treated them with dignity and respect. I’ve seen your intelligence and compassion in action. I know what you do, and I could make a good guess as to why you do what you do. The person underneath all that isn’t a cold-blooded killer. She’s a person who cares deeply and, if needed, does a job she doesn’t relish but can do better than anyone else.”
Ronnie pulled her hand away from his grasp and stared at him. Somehow, she felt naked … so exposed. Her carefully constructed walls hadn’t protected her from the man. He’d seen through the pretense she kept so carefully pulled around her, and it was … terrifying. She glanced up and thanked everything in the universe they were pulling up to her flat. “We’re here.”
Con continued to stare at her, but she didn’t look at him. She needed time to figure out where he’d found the hole. How had he been able to see through to who she really was? The chauffeur, the same one who drove for her dad when he was in the country, collected their bags, with the exception of Con’s computer, and followed them into the residence. He looked at her inquiringly. “Mr. Solomon’s bag goes in the blue room, please.” He nodded and took the bag to the farthest guest room from her suite.
“Did I say something to upset you?” Con asked her as he stood beside her, appearing to take in the apartment.
“The library is through there. You can hook up your system. The kitchen is toward the back of the house. Your room is down that hall at the end.” She turned to him and waited until he looked at her. “You got too close.” It was a simple but truthful statement. “I don’t know how to process that.” She turned and walked down the hallway to her bedroom, grateful he didn’t call after her. The honesty she’d just given him made her even more vulnerable. She needed to pull herself together, but still, the feeling of being so exposed and defenseless against what he’d seen in her had shaken her to the core.
She closed her bedroom door behind her and dropped against it. Damn. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and dialed her sister’s number.
“What’s wrong?” Charley answered.
“Nothing. Why?”
“It’s unusual for you to call,” Charley replied. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she admitted. “Can you talk?”
“Yeah, hold on.” She heard her sister talk to her husband and the rustling noises indicating she was moving, possibly leaving her office. “Okay. I’m in the conference room, and no one can hear me. What’s up?”
“How did you do it? How did you let yourself be vulnerable with Dan?” She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the bed, flopping back on the silk comforter.
“Oh … well, that’s a loaded question. When it first started out, I was okay with just a fling, you know?” Charley laughed. “But I saw him. I mean, I saw who he was, and I was lost. The humor he used was a shield. He’s so genuine and real; I knew he’d never hurt me, but then again, I had a hell of a time convincing him I was the one for him. The age difference was the biggest hurdle he had to overcome. Well, that and Dad.”
“Yeah. Dad.” She let out a long sigh. “This guy told me tonight he’s seen the woman I am. He’s seen my compassion and intelligence. He told me I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer; I was a person who cares.”
Charley cleared her throat. “Who is this guy? He knows what you do. Fuck, Gabby, we need to run a background on him.”
She barked out a laugh. “No, you don’t. It’s Con.”
“Con? As in uber-nerd Con?” Charley’s voice squeaked a bit.
“No, as in uber-sexy, uber-intelligent, and uber-caring Con. Have you ever met him?”
“Never. Hold on a minute. Now, I’m curious.” She could hear Charley tapping on her phone.
She sat up off her bed. “About what?”
“What he looks … oh, damn, he is attractive. I was thinking pimple-faced, thick glasses, and a pocket protector.”
“No, more like hair a bit too long, eighties’ band T-shirts, tight jeans, and built like a stud.” She sighed. “Our first mission was to the island where Ice found the computer equipment.”
“Yeah, I remember that. You jumped in with him strapped to you. I so want to do that.” Charley laughed. “Next time you do a HALO, you have a tandem jumper.”
“Deal. Anyway, we talked a lot before the jump and afterward when we were working. Now, we’re on this mission, and it’s so hard to concentrate when he looks at me like he wants to eat me.”
“Oh, I know that look.” Charley laughed. “Let. Him.”
“Seriously?” She laughed.
“Absolutely. Let the good times roll … in the sheets, as it were.”
She shook her head, bringing the conversation back to her concerns. “Charley, he’s not like the other guys I’ve known. He doesn’t want money.”
“Right, how on earth would you know that?”
“His mom is O. H. Solomon.”
Charley snorted. “Okay, so no need for money. So, why are you hesitating? Go for it. I mean, if you like this guy, don’t push him away.”
“But Dad …”
“Has a life of his own, and you deserve one, too. Do what I did. Find the one, fall in love, and then tell Dad he’s the one. You know he’ll do the ‘Don’t hurt my baby’ thing, but if the guy’s in love with you, it won’t matter. He’ll stand through the interrogation.”
“But what if he isn’t the one, Charlotte? We’ve met twice and had two kisses.” She stood up and started pacing. “How do I let myself be open to this adorable man-child who’s a savant on the computer? What if he just wants sex?”
Charley sighed. “First, don’t call me Charlotte because that sends shivers down my spine. I think I’m in trouble. And if he just wants sex, then have some mind-blowing, body-bending fun, Gabby. You can have a relationship. I promise nothing will go wrong if you do. Well, unless you don’t use a contraceptive, then …”
“Charley!” she gasped.
“What? You show up preggers with no daddy in tow, and you know what’ll happen. Dad’ll go ballistic.”
“Thanks. I needed that image in my head.” She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face.
“Oh, stop. Just take precautions. You’re a careful person, too careful at times, so protect yourself. And listen, if, and I repeat, if it becomes serious with Con, then Dad is just the next step. The hard part is allowing yourself to have fun and find out if this guy is the one for you. Don’t walk away from a good thing. I don’t need you to protect me anymore, Gabby. I don’t need you to be a Shadow.”
She sighed. “I know. Being a Shadow is something I’ve done for me. I never want to be afraid again, and the people I’m assigned are fucking monsters who deserve what they’re dealt.”
“Sometimes, I think you were more traumatized by my abduction than I was,” Charley said softly.
“Unfortunately, that’s the consensus,” Gabby agreed. It took a hell of a lot of therapy for her to get past what had happened to her sister.
“Take a page out of my book, will you? Allow yourself to throw caution to the wind. Just enjoy the time you have with him.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” She pulled her katana out of its holster at her back and tossed it in the air, catching it by the handle each time.
“Sure you do. Play, Gabby. There’s nothing stopping you from having fun with this guy. Nothing but your own whacked-out sense of duty to the family and me. Drop it. Dad and Mom have the best security. I have Smoke and my training, and the boys … well, you know they’d never forgive you if they thought you weren’t enjoying life because of some sense of duty to them. It’s time to live your life for you .”
She stared out the window at the gardens that stretched out from the back of her home. “Okay. Thanks, Charley.”
“That’s Gabby speak for ‘I heard you, but I’m not going to listen to you’.” Charley sighed.
“No, that’s ‘I’m exhausted, I’m confused, and I think he’s so damn handsome. And, Charley, when he kisses me … I melt. I just melt .”
“Then hang up, take a nap, and go get yourself melted.” Charley’s voice held a smile.
“I think that’s a good plan.” She smiled as she spoke. “Thanks.”
“I love you, Gabby. You deserve this.”
“I love you, too. Go back to work.”
“Meh, I might grab a quickie with my hubs. All this talk about melting might have revved my motor.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Well, then, go do that. I’ll call later.”
“No, you won’t, but I’ll call you. Love ya, bye!” The line went dead.
She tossed her katana again before sliding it back into its holster. A shower, a nap, and then some hot, melting kisses. Nothing like a solid strategy to set the day straight.