Chapter 5
Chapter Five
At the light knock on Andrew Hudson’s study door, Colton glanced up from his phone, doing a double-take at the young woman he’d last seen over two years ago. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but not this composed, casually dressed young woman. Not after what she’d experienced today.
Her hair had grown out since he’d seen her last and now hung to the middle of her back. No bangs, her hair instead framing her face like a satin curtain.
“Daddy? You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, honey.” Mr. Hudson walked over to his daughter. “I want you to meet some people.”
Colton had met the uber-wealthy businessman and his wife ten minutes ago, but was already impressed at the humble way they’d welcomed him and his colleagues into what he could only describe as a modern-day, Texas-sized castle.
Rambling two-story mansion on several acres of prime Houston real estate, stone wall perimeter and wrought-iron gate with security cameras, and an intercom system manned by round-the-clock security guards stationed inside the house.
A ten-foot-tall front door fashioned from heavy oak at the top of half a dozen stone steps boasted yet another security camera.
All that was missing was the moat and a turret. Maybe a suit of armor.
Her gaze skimmed the room, her brows drawn together in question as she took in the four of them in their suits and ties. Their usual work attire, even for a late Saturday night meeting. But when her eyes met his, his pulse jumped.
That was new. And not at all welcome. He hadn’t experienced a reaction like that since—
No. Not a chance. He’d put all that away years ago, and he certainly wasn’t unpacking it now.
She stepped closer, her eyes narrowed. “We’ve met, have we not? I feel like I know the face but can’t get a bead on context.”
“We have. At the Mulaney residence.”
“The Mula—” Her face blanched. “After the funeral. You were there with somebody, right? Said you were on the—wait.”
Her attention went to Trevor standing beside him. “You were there too.”
“I was,” he answered.
She regarded his boss standing on his other side. “You’re Mack Petersen? Petersen Security?”
The older man nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She spun on her father. “Bodyguards? Daddy, you know how I feel about bodyguards. I can’t stand having somebody on me constantly. I know I’m a people person, but bodyguards aren’t people. They’re … they’re … tactical gear. And just as cumbersome.” She glanced over her shoulder. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Mack answered.
“Tactical gear,” Trevor mumbled under his breath. “That was good.”
Colton barely suppressed a chuckle. Daddy’s little princess wasn’t happy. And he’d been called a lot worse than tactical gear.
Drew Hudson’s face held the kind of panicked plea only a terrified parent could express. “Sweetheart, we can’t take lightly what happened to you this morning. I’d prefer a protection detail stay with you until this thing is over.”
“What thing? I really think you’re overreacting. As usual. What happened today was random. I was by myself, nobody else around, and he took a chance. I seriously doubt he’ll come hunting me down.”
“I still think we should err on the side of caution.”
“What if I agree to stay here for more than the next few days? A week or so. Until you see nothing else happens. Can we do that? Bodyguards, Daddy? Please.”
Still trying to cover his amusement—he really must be tired—Colton shook his head. He’d seen Riley Hudson in the paper or on the pages of a magazine since their last meeting and had considered her pretty in a high-maintenance kind of way, like he had at the funeral in her designer ensemble.
But tonight, in jeans and a blue sweater she wore with tennis shoes, her dark hair tumbling past her shoulders, and little makeup on her face, she was a knock-out. Even after a trying day which must have put a damper on her usual Saturday night entertainment. She looked young, fresh … and livid.
Recalling their earlier conversation, he leaned over to Mack as the argument between father and daughter continued. “Scared? Bewildered? She needs me?”
The contrition in Mack’s eyes wasn’t at all satisfying before he apparently decided to step in to help out his most important client. “Excuse me, Miss Hudson?”
“What?” She put her hand to her forehead. “Mr. Petersen, please accept my apology. I didn’t mean to snap at you. This isn’t your fault.” She shot her father a sideways glare.
“No apology necessary. But I’ll tell you what. Let my guys stick with you for two weeks. See what happens. These are the best I’ve got. The best in the business.”
“It’s all so unnecessary. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Colton gestured toward her with his chin. “How?”
“Here we go,” Paul muttered from the other side of Trevor.
Ignoring his co-worker, he trudged ahead. “How do you take care of yourself?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m always careful about where I park, where I go. I carry pepper spray with me. And I can run pretty fast.”
“Let me see if I understand what happened today. You were out shopping. Meeting friends for lunch. Walking in a parking garage. Were you able to get to your pepper spray? Did you have the opportunity to run? And even if you had, what kind of shoes were you wearing? Low heel? High heel?”
“Well … no, my pepper spray was in my bag, and I was wearing boots.”
“Flat boots? High-heeled boots?”
“Three-inch heels. Which actually came in handy, if you’d check the report. It all happened pretty quickly, but I think he’ll be limping for a while.”
“And if I’d been with you, it wouldn’t have happened at all.”
One eyebrow shot up. “A little cocky, aren’t we?”
“Riley Christine,” Mr. Hudson whispered.
Paul and Trevor bowed their heads. To stifle their laughter, if he knew his colleagues.
Maybe he did sound a little arrogant, but would she rather have an insecure bodyguard?
Then again, she didn’t want one at all.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Mister …”
“Blankenship,” he answered. “Colton.”
“Mr. Blankenship here seems to think an awful lot of himself.”
Trevor nodded. “He is a little cocky.” He nudged Paul with his elbow. “Wouldn’t you say, Jamison?”
“I’ll plead the Fifth on that,” Paul answered.
When the corners of her mouth twitched upward, Colton had to school his features to cover his own amusement. As he’d ascertained two years ago, this girl had spunk and probably wouldn’t take kindly to the suspicion he wasn’t taking her seriously.
“I just know my job, Miss Hudson. And I do it well.”
Trevor jerked a thumb toward him. “That’s true too.”
She looked back at Mack. “Two weeks?”
“One month,” her father countered.
Colton met her head-on when those emerald eyes pinned him again. He’d stared down his share of hostiles over the fourteen years he’d been in security work. He wasn’t about to back down from a petulant heiress.
She uncrossed her arms. “Two weeks and not a second longer.” She spun on her heel and headed toward the door. “Hope you guys can keep up.”