Chapter Eleven
Chapter
Eleven
Mal looked around the posh dining room. It
was one of those elegant places that always seemed fussy to him. He wasn’t the
only bodyguard standing at the edge of the room. There were several others all
dressed in black suits with sunglasses on. Like they had a uniform that told
the world I’m here to take a bullet for whichever fucker pays me the most.
He wouldn’t allow anyone else to do this job. On paper, he
was Oliver’s guard. In real life, his one job was to protect the most gorgeous
woman in the world.
Vivian sat with Oliver at the four top. She was dressed to
impress in a silk blouse and a skirt that clung to her every curve. Red-soled
high heels completed her look along with gold jewelry and a handbag that
probably would cost him a month’s salary. She looked every inch the lady. She
belonged sitting right there in that sunny patch with all the elegant people of
London.
He belonged in the shadows.
He hadn’t had a damn moment alone with her in the last
twenty-four hours, and it was killing him. When Oliver had announced that
Edward invited him to lunch with his fiancée, they’d spent hours going over
protocols for how they would work. Vivian had studied up on everything they
knew about Edward Kirkallan and his fiancée. The rest of the team was working
on the wedding guests, making sure there were no other targets.
Then he’d had to watch as she walked into The Garden looking
like an elegant lady and place her hand on Oliver’s arm, allowing him to escort
her.
Fuck, he wanted to be the one escorting her, but he didn’t
belong here and he never would.
“Those two make a perfect couple,” the man beside him said.
“Haven’t seen her before. Have seen him. I guess I should say they look like a
perfect couple, but that one likes to play around.”
He hadn’t realized the guards would be so chatty. There were
five of them stretched along the outer wall.
“Of course I haven’t seen you around either,” the man said.
“How long have you been out in the civvie world?”
Mal never took his eyes off Vivian. She had a slight smile
on her face, a forced smile. He wondered what that massive arse
was saying to her. The fiancée looked like a textbook mean girl. Her beauty was
all sharp planes and angles. Nothing like Vivian’s softness.
“Been out around a year,” Mal replied. “And you?”
“Oh, I got out three years ago. Was getting too old. Hired
on at a private firm,” the man said. He was dressed in a good suit. Not
perfectly tailored but of good quality. “Then the Kirkallans
hired me. You working at MTK? I would assume Oliver Knight would use his
father’s company for security. Although I think with that one it’s more like
babysitting.”
Oliver had to put up with this shite all the time. But he
needed to play along. “I will admit up until a few months ago, most of my job
was making sure he didn’t kill himself, but he’s changed a bit since he started
dating the blonde. I think she’s a good influence on him.”
“She could be a good influence on me any day of the week,”
the man said, but there was a cheeriness to the words that made Mal stand down.
“I mean if I wasn’t old enough to be her father. You can see the sweetness on
her. I worry about her with that playboy. They don’t ever change.”
“I think there’s more to him than meets the eye.” He finally
turned. If this was one of Edward’s guards, he should be friendly. After all,
staff loved to talk. He offered a hand. “Malcolm Mays. SAS.”
“Knew it,” the other man said. “You had that look about you.
Gerald Mills. Royal Navy. Nice to meet you. I hear your boy will be coming to
the wedding. I know the team gave him a thorough vetting. I suppose we’ll do
the same with her.”
“Her name is Vivian McKay. She’s the daughter of one of the
founding partners of MTK.” He turned back to watching her. The smile didn’t
reach her eyes as she took a short sip of the wine in front of her. “You’ll
discover she’s above reproach.”
“Well, that explains some things,” Gerald chuckled. “Those
kind always marry their own, you know. It doesn’t matter where you are. Money
always marries money. I happen to know Edward isn’t in love with his fiancée.
He’s got several girls he sees. She knows about them. Doesn’t care. The rich
are different.”
Every word made him want to ache again. Vivian did come from
money, and her family was elite. Oliver thought they were different, but he was
one of them. His parents were well educated and moved easily in polite society.
Like Vivian’s would.
“The fiancée spends way too much time traveling,” Gerald
said with a long sigh. “I’m glad I’m not her guard. She’s a weird one. Comes
and goes. Sometimes she acts like she’s in danger and other times she pretends
she doesn’t need a guard at all. I swear she sneaks out every time she wants to
get rid of one, and she’s good at it. Edward is much more predictable. This is
a cushy job, mate. I’ve only ever had to protect him once from a man he’d fired.
Didn’t even have a gun. Bloke just wanted to yell for a while and curse
Edward’s name. But you probably have to protect Oliver from numerous angry
husbands.”
Oliver would never touch a married woman, but that wasn’t
his persona. “More like keep the angry women off him. They always want more
than one night. I don’t know where the kid gets the stamina.”
Gerald was at least ten years older than he was, but he was
in perfect condition and had a ready smile. “Ah, I remember being young. I had
myself a fine time, and I didn’t have a family and money behind me. I don’t
blame him, but if he’s dating a young lady like that, he needs to respect her.”
He groaned. “Sorry. If he’s dating any young lady, he needs to respect her. Got
two daughters. They love to tell me I’m living in the last century.”
Gerald’s daughters were right, but Mal wasn’t going to point
that out. He glanced around again, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
There was a man at the reception desk. He was talking to the hostess. Nothing
about him was odd. He was well dressed. In his thirties. The watch on his hand
was ridiculously expensive.
But something about him…
“Kids. They can make a man feel small. I always wondered
what it would be like to have a boy around, but then I figure any boy that came
from me would probably be an idiot. Just like his dad,” Gerald said with a
chuckle. “What’s it like working for MTK? I tried to get on there, but they
weren’t hiring at the time. That Knight fellow is very picky. How did you get
in?”
He couldn’t tell the man he’d gotten the job because he’d
backed up Oliver on MI6 missions. “I know a couple of the other guards. Between
them and the SAS experience, they hired me. It helps that I get on with the
lad.”
The lad was a deadly killer in a bespoke suit, but Mal
wasn’t going to mention that either.
“It really does come down to who you know in life, don’t
it?” Gerald turned toward the front. “That guy bothering you?”
“I don’t know. He looks fine.” He was pacing now, glancing
down at his phone.
“But you’ve got an instinct,” Gerald said and touched his
earpiece. “I need an ID on the dark-haired man currently pacing the lobby. Dark
suit, holding a phone. Yeah, I know. They’re all holding phones. Fuck off and
get me the intel.”
And his estimation of the man went up. He wasn’t alone. He
had a team around him. Interesting. What they knew of Kirkallan’s
company didn’t necessitate an intelligence agency-like team. So there was more
to the family and the company than would meet the eye.
“It’s probably nothing.” He watched as the young man gave
the receptionist a smile. He seemed to be trying to convince her of something.
“Ain’t got nothing but time with
this job.”
Gerald seemed perfectly willing to talk, and their guy had
stopped pacing and sat down on one of the beautiful benches. Maybe he was
waiting on a date and got stood up. Whatever. He had a job to do, and he was
being paranoid. He needed to get as much out of Gerald as he could. And maybe
cozy up to the guy. “Seems like you have a great team behind you. I don’t get a
team. It’s only me. Knight only sends out backup when they’re working a case,
and I’ll never get near there.”
Gerald nodded. “Probably not. You heard the rumors about
your new boss, right?”
He’d like to know what they said about Damon. “Is this about
the club? Because the club is actually lovely.”
Gerald waved that off. “I don’t care about a man’s sex life.
If spanking women makes a bloke happy, good for him. Nah. I’m talking about the
fact that he used to be MI6, and there are rumors that he’s still involved with
them from time to time. Dangerous man, Damon Knight.”
Yes, he knew that, although the “time to time” was truly all
the time. “I heard it, but I don’t work much with the big boss. I’m his son’s
dedicated guard, and I assure you Oliver isn’t a spy.”
That got a hearty laugh out of Gerald, but he covered it
quickly. “Sorry. Haven’t heard anything that funny in a while. Well, I’m sure
the rumors are exactly that. I can’t imagine why Knight would want to get
involved in that mess when he makes good money with his own company. Gossip
runs even through our business. Martin will figure out who that bloke is in a
few minutes, and we can put our minds at ease.”
Mal glanced to the lobby. He wished they’d sent a team, but
Damon thought it too risky. There was no reason for Oliver to have a team of
guards. Sending one was the only way to go. He looked back at Vivian. She was
sitting, watching. He wondered what was going on in her brain. She was
profiling in real time, assessing the people in front of her. It was what she
wanted.
“If you think his normal security is intense, you should see
what they’re doing for the wedding. It’s a lot,” Gerald offered.
“Why so much security at the wedding? Isn’t it taking place
on the estate?” Mal asked quietly.
“Got some bigwigs coming in,” Gerald replied. “Not sure what
company they’re with. I’m not allowed around when they meet with this bloke.
Almost makes me think they’ve got ties, if you know what I mean. See, we’re
back to gossip, mate.”