Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
H is stitches had been removed yesterday, and while his scar was still red and ugly, it was healing fast and was partially covered by his hairline.
"Wait here," the receptionist told him and picked up the phone. "Your nine o'clock's arrived, sir."
She smiled at Viper and stood up. "Follow me, Mr. Morgan."
They walked through a set of thick, glass security doors and down a short corridor. His shiny shoes sank into the plush carpeting as he gazed out of large, spotless windows on the right-hand side that overlooked a busy street. In the distance, the imposing structure of Fort Bragg loomed, a reminder of their roots and the disciplined precision that underpinned their operations.
The receptionist knocked on a door, then opened it without waiting for a reply. Shooting him a professional smile, she said, "Mr. Burke will see you now."
Viper took a deep breath. It stilled his nerves, not that he really had any. Calm, control, stillness—the traits of a sharpshooter. He’d learned years ago how to silence his mind, vanquish his nerves, wait patiently for the shot. He used the same technique now, as he nodded his thanks, then when he was ready, went inside.
The Commander stood up. At over six foot with a face made of granite, he looked every bit the tough former SEAL Commander he was reputed to be. "Ah, Victor Morgan—or do you prefer Viper?”
“Viper, sir.”
A nod. They shook hands. “I've heard good things about you. Excellent job in rescuing those hostages in Colombia. Could have been much worse than it was, if not for your brave act."
Viper shrugged it off. "I did what anyone in my position would have done, sir."
Pat locked his dark eyes on him. "Nonetheless, it was very well done. I'm sorry you got discharged over it. How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Never been in better shape."
"Bullet wounds all healed up?"
He nodded. "Weeks ago."
Pat's gaze lifted to the wound on his temple.
Viper held his tongue. The Blackthorn Security boss would have been told about his little bar fight and stint in the holding cell down at the Cumberland County Sheriff's Office. Too bad, there was nothing he could do about that now. Would it scupper his chances? He sure as hell hoped not.
He needed this job. It was more than just a job—it was a lifeline. Blackthorn Security. Hell, he would be lucky enough to be offered a position as a PPO at any firm, let alone here.
"Is that going to be a problem for you?" Pat asked pointedly.
"No, sir. It won't happen again."
Pat nodded and moved on. Viper exhaled.
"I think Blade explained what we need?"
He nodded. "Yes, sir. You need a personal protection officer for a client."
"A personal friend," he corrected. "I knew her mother."
"Yes, sir."
"And I understand you're keen to take on the role?"
"Yes, sir."
Please...
He clenched his fists under the table.
Pat nodded and looked him up and down. "Your reputation speaks for itself. If you're in agreement, then we can sign you on for a trial run. One op, and then we’ll take it from there. How does that sound?"
Viper hissed out a slow breath. “That sounds good.”
Pat slid a document over the desk toward Viper. "It says this is a probationary phase, and after this assignment ends, we'll make you a permanent offer. Short and sweet. I didn't have time to go into detail. You know the risks, you’ve done this before."
He gave a stoic nod, picked up a pen, and signed on the dotted line.
"Excellent." Pat grinned, and the granite cracked a little. He seemed less intimidating now. "I believe our client is waiting, so you can meet her right away."
"She's here, now?" Viper sat up straighter.
"Yeah, I asked her to come in so I could introduce you."
He'd been so sure Viper would say yes. That stung a little, but then, who wouldn't? It was Blackthorn Security. He'd be a fool not to accept the position.
Pat picked up the phone. "Show her in, Maisie."
A few minutes later, the office door swung open, and—Holy hell!—in walked the most stunning woman Viper had ever seen. Tall, close to five foot ten, with legs that stretched all the way to Canada, a Marilyn Monroe hourglass figure, and features that could grace the cover of a magazine.
He was momentarily speechless. Then he stumbled to his feet.
Pat reached out an arm. "Izzy, come on in. I want you to meet your assigned personal protection officer, Viper Morgan."
The woman walked in and looked him over. Her expressive brown eyes studied his face lingering on his mouth, then dropped to his chest, flickered briefly over his biceps, before lowering to his legs. Now knew how women felt when guys ogled them. Right now he felt like a piece of meat on display.
She gave a little nod, as if to say, “you'll do”, then stuck out her hand. "Izzy Beaumont. Good to meet you." Her voice was like cut glass, posh and crystal clear.
He puffed out his chest,—May as well look the part—forced a smile and engulfed her proffered hand in his hard, rough one. Her skin was soft, her nails perfectly manicured. A sensual exotic fragrance wafted over him. Floral, with a hint of something alluring. Vanilla, maybe. His gaze met hers. "Likewise."
She dropped her eyes first, pulling her hand away. He waited until she'd sat down, then resumed his seat.
"I take it you've told him about the death threats?" Her question was directed at Pat, but she was annoyed, he could hear it in her voice. Because he hadn’t let her get the upper hand, or because she didn’t want a bodyguard to begin with?
"Briefly. Why don’t you fill him in on the details?"
The stunner turned to Viper. He tried not to stare at her long, smooth legs ending in high-heeled sandals, or the coral nail polish on her toes. The short summer dress she wore had risen up around her thighs. He had a fleeting image of those legs wrapped around him.
What the fuck?
Where had that thought come from?
He hardly knew the woman. Swallowing, he banished the indecent image to the furthest recesses of his mind.
"I don't know if you're aware, Mr. Morgan, but my father, Richard Beaumont, recently passed away."
"I'm sorry," he said. He didn't have a clue who Richard Beaumont was.
"Thank you." She paused, studying him. "To give you some background, he was the founder and CEO of Omega Enterprises, a mining conglomerate with interests in Mexico and Central America. When he died, he left the company to me. I am now the majority shareholder."
Viper had heard of Omega Enterprises. Money and power. That was quite a responsibility for one so young. She looked maybe twenty-four, twenty-five, which made her eight or nine years younger than him.
"I think these death threats are related to that."
"Do you have them with you?" Viper asked.
"No, I gave them to the police."
"There are copies in Miss Beaumont's file," Pat informed him.
Viper nodded. He'd look them up later.
"Anyway, the police believe I've got to take them seriously, so I sought out Pat, who said he could help. I understand you have prior experience in this area?"
Viper nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Okay, good. Well, I'd like you to start immediately, if possible. I'm leaving for San Diego tomorrow. It's kind of a working vacation, and I want you to come."
Viper glanced at Pat, who nodded. "Don't worry, Viper is ready to accompany you. We'll have to sort out the license for his weapon, but otherwise, he's good to go."
Guess he was going to San Diego.
Izzy smiled, the first time since she'd walked into the room. "It's a fashion shoot for my new swimwear line. To be honest, I could do with a break. It's been a very trying few weeks."
"I'm sure." Pat smiled fondly. "Have fun and don't worry about a thing. Viper is as good as they come. You're in safe hands." When he wasn't drinking himself into a coma and getting involved in bar fights, yes.
She arched a perfectly shaped brow. "You can pick me up at five o'clock tomorrow morning. We fly out at seven-thirty."
"I'll need a list of those traveling with you," Viper said. "In order to vet them."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Of course, I'll see my assistant gets that off to you ASAP."
Her assistant?
He was battling to reconcile the swimwear line with the mining conglomerate. What did one have to do with the other? But he kept his questions to himself. All would be revealed in time when he had a chance to look over her file.
"See you tomorrow, then, Miss Beaumont."
She gave a terse nod, then turned to his boss. "Thank you, Uncle Pat. I appreciate your help."
Uncle?
Damn. When Blade had said friend of the family, he wasn't kidding.
Pat came around the desk and embraced her. If he was embarrassed by her term of endearment, he didn't show it. "Any time, Izzy. You know that."
Viper's eyes widened even further. Human contact from the formidable Pat Burke. Who would have thought it?
Izzy Beaumont swept out in her cloud of designer perfume.
"She's quite something, isn't she?" mused Pat, staring after her. "Done remarkably well for herself since her mother's death."
"It must be challenging, running the mining conglomerate."
Pat laughed, deep and growly. “Izzy's got her own fashion empire. She's what they call an influencer, I believe. Not that I'm one for social media.”
Viper’s eyes widened.
“She’s got millions of followers. That makes her a very important asset to fashion brands. She's got her own swimwear line, as you heard, and a signature perfume. I understand she's in talks for other ventures too. Quite the entrepreneur, is our Izzy."
Our Izzy?
"You're related to her, sir?"
Pat's eyes flickered. "Not in the traditional sense, but I've known Izzy since she was a baby, and as her parents are both dead, I feel a certain responsibility toward her. She's my goddaughter."
Goddaughter.
Holy crap. He'd better not screw up.
Viper cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir, for the opportunity. I'm honored to be working for Blackthorn Security."
Pat shook his hand. “Glad to have you on board.” His hair was turning silver at the sides, but he was still a rock of a man. Stocky and broad, he was built like a wrestler and clearly worked out regularly in the gym. Even his handshake was crushing. "Maisie will show you to your desk, where you can prep for tomorrow. There's quite a bit more on Izzy and her father’s company in the file, and you should check out her Instagram profile—see what all the hype is about." He masked a grin. "I think you'll be surprised."