His to Protect
Auteur
Sharon C. Cooper
Lezers
18,8K
Hoofdstukken
25
Chapter 1
I thought mobile apps were supposed to make life easier.
Constance Shaw growled under her breath when another message popped up on her cell-phone screen.
Your deposit could not be completed. Please try again later.
“Seriously? This is ridiculous.”
“Talking to your phone is not going to change the results.”
Connie glanced up to find her best friend, who also happened to be her boss, standing in the office doorway. “Fierce, fashionable and in charge” was the best way to describe Trinity Layton-Brooks, a former police officer who now owned a security firm, Layton Executive Protection Agency (LEPA).
Connie dropped down in her leather chair and tossed the phone on the desk. “I hate mobile apps. Looks like I’ll be going to the bank at lunchtime.”
Trinity strolled into the office. “Girl, don’t get me started on anything technology-related.”
Connie smiled when her friend got closer. “You have to be the hottest pregnant boss-lady on the planet. You’re glowing.”
Trinity was four months pregnant, and though Connie was thrilled for her best friend, she couldn’t help but wonder when it would be her time. She absolutely loved her job as VP of Operations, but her personal life was lacking. Unlike Trinity, Connie didn’t have the amazing husband, one-point-five kids and a life that fairy tales were made of. All the things that she someday wanted.
Trinity smiled and waved her off. “Oh, please. With only three hours of sleep, it’s amazing I can even think straight. The glow you’re seeing is probably perspiration from me sweating over that proposal for the state of Nevada. It’s more involved than I thought.”
“I know, right? I had a few late nights this week trying to pull together all of the requested information. I’m hoping to be finished with my part before I head to lunch today.”
“Good. Then all that’s left is for me to get my portion done.”
Layton Executive Protection Agency provided personal protection to a high-end clientele, and Trinity was always looking for opportunities to expand their services. And as the VP of Operations, Connie’s only concern lately had been making sure they stayed on top and kept up with demand. Business was great, and in only five years she had worked hard to help it become a million-dollar agency. They dominated the personal-security industry in Las Vegas and in Los Angeles. It helped that the extensive training and credentials of their security personnel were second to none.
Trinity sat in one of the gray upholstered guest chairs in front of Connie’s desk and crossed her legs. “Kya Rae is becoming a problem, and we have to pull Trace off of her detail.”
Trace.
Trace Halstead.
Just hearing the man’s name sent fiery tingles scurrying over Connie’s skin. Thinking of him in a professional capacity hadn’t been working lately. Memories of their passionate night together blasted through her mind and sent heat propelling to every nerve in her body.
A month ago, after a work event, Connie had invited Trace, who was one of LEPA’s security specialists, back to her place for a drink. She knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to mix business with pleasure, but they’d been skirting around each other for months. Flirting and harmless banter had been their way of getting to know each other. What she hadn’t counted on that evening was that the attraction between them would boil over.
She couldn’t even blame her indiscretion on having too much to drink, because she hadn’t. One glass of Moscato, a tad bit of curiosity and a huge dose of mutual sexual attraction had pulled them together like a neodymium magnet. One night. That was all it took for Trace Halstead to ruin her for any other man. There was no way anyone else existed who could pleasure her body as thoroughly as he had.
For that reason alone, Connie could almost forget that he was a pain in the butt. Maybe not all the time, but often enough to make her occasionally want to strangle his fine self. Too bad she liked him. A lot. LEPA might not have a no-fraternizing policy, but Connie had her own set of rules. The one at the top of the list: never get romantically involved with a coworker again, especially a subordinate.
Been there.
Done that.
It didn’t end well.
So much for rules, though. That one had imploded when she hooked up with Trace. And it turned out to be one of the most exciting, mind-blowing missteps Connie had ever made. Now, each time his name was mentioned or he was in her presence, her mind took her back to the night that he had thrown her world off-kilter.
Connie leaned back in her desk chair and inhaled deeply. Then, releasing a slow, cleansing breath, she brought her thoughts back to the present, willing her libido back under control.
“Hmm...interesting,” Trinity said, studying her as if Connie had just shared a theory on how to make underwire bras more comfortable. “I mention Trace and your whole face lit up. I think I even see your cheeks tinting. What’s that all about? What haven’t you told me?”
Connie glanced down and brushed invisible lint off her black pants as she concentrated on schooling her expression. “First of all, I don’t blush.”
Her skin tone was fairer than Trinity’s, but still dark enough that a blush wouldn’t show. She couldn’t deny that her musings had sent warmth spreading through her body. Of course, Trinity would notice. Her friend had always been observant, and getting anything past her was almost impossible. Which was why she’d been an excellent police officer.
Connie slid a lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her shoulders. “Secondly, don’t look for something that isn’t there. Trace and I are coworkers. I might even go as far as calling him a friend, but that’s it. Nothing else.”
Her words were spoken with finality, and Connie believed them herself. For the most part.
A slow smile spread across Trinity’s mouth. “Mmm-hmm. You keep telling yourself that, but I know better. I’ll just sit back and continue enjoying the show of you two pretending that there’s nothing going on between you. But for now, let’s get back to Trace’s situation. Who’s available that we can replace him with?”
“You know he’s scheduled to be on Kya’s detail for another two weeks. At least until after the music festival.”
“I know, but Trace said he can’t do it. He didn’t give details about what she did, but he said the woman is getting bolder and more aggressive with her advances. It’s making him uncomfortable. We can’t have that. She must’ve really stepped over the line if he’s asking to be reassigned.”
“What about Riley? Did Kya come on to him, too?” Connie asked of the other security specialist on the assignment.
Trinity yawned noisily and quickly covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh, man. Sorry about that. I think the lack of sleep is catching up to me. And, no, Riley said she’s irritating, but she hasn’t made him uncomfortable. Just Trace.”
This wasn’t the first time Kya had made a pass at Trace. She’d been a client off and on for eight months. Each time she needed personal protection she requested a two-men detail. Trace was always one of them.
He was one of the agency’s most requested guards, especially by women between the ages of twenty-five and fifty. Connie couldn’t much blame their female clients for falling for him. Trace was not only tall, dark and fine, but he was also smart, funny and charismatic. And as a former US Navy officer, he had the whole alpha, top-dog persona nailed down.
Even still, that didn’t give any client the right to proposition him, or make him uncomfortable with unwanted advances.
“I’ll look into the situation and identify someone to take his place.” Connie turned to her laptop and pulled up their personnel database. “Does Kya know that she’s losing Trace?”
“Not yet. I told him to give us an hour. We need to see who’s been assigned to her in the past that Kya will approve of before he tells her.”
“You know she’s not going to let him go without an argument.”
“I agree. That’s why I want you to talk to her.”
Connie jerked her head away from the computer screen and narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Why me? Why can’t you do it?”
“Because you have more tact than I do, and you care about keeping her as a client.”
Connie laughed. “You do, too.”
“I do...to a point. Yes, Kya has sent us a ton of business, but her inappropriate behavior is unacceptable. It was bad enough that time when she thought it was okay to prance around her house naked in front of our guys. She didn’t care that she made them uncomfortable. When Trace suggested they give her privacy, she demanded they stay put. Don’t even get me started on how many times she’s propositioned Trace. He hasn’t accused her of sexual harassment, but technically... We need to face it—she’s a problem. With all of that said, the news should come from you since she’s afraid of you.”
“Oh, please. That girl is not afraid of me.”
“Uh, yeah, she is. Remember that time when she requested our guys to escort her to court? Then when they did, she started a fight with that news cameraman and expected Noah to fight her battle. I’ll never forget when you cursed her out.”
Connie’s mouth dropped open. “Really, Trinity? How can you even say that with a straight face? You know good and well I didn’t curse that woman out.”
“Okay, maybe not, but you have the amazing ability to curse someone out without using a swear word.”
“I didn’t exactly tell her off. I just made it clear that if she couldn’t carry herself like an adult and a lady when our people are with her, she’d have to find another agency.”
“Well, whatever you said worked. Now you need to talk to her about Trace. This is the second time she’s made a pass at him. She doesn’t get another chance.”
A knock sounded on Connie’s office door.
“Come in,” she called out.
The door slid open. “Connie, have you seen...? Oh, Trinity, you’re in here. I was looking for you. Your husband’s on line one,” Jade, their executive assistant, said.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll pick it up in my office. Tell him to give me a second.”
“Will do,” Jade said, backing out of the office and closing the door behind her.
Trinity stood. “Okay, so we agree that you’ll save Trace from Kya?”
Connie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. If I must.”
Trinity grinned. “Don’t act like you ain’t happy to get him away from that woman. I know you want him all to your—”
“Don’t go there. He and I are just friends and coworkers. If this is one of your attempts to push us together, forget it.”
Honestly, Connie was more than happy to assign someone else to Kya’s detail. She hated the idea of any woman coming on to Trace. Not because she wanted him for herself, but... Heck, who was she kidding? She totally wanted him, but she had no intention of admitting that to her friend or anyone else.
“I don’t know why you keep fighting the inevitable. You and Trae-Trae would be perfect together.”
“You know he hates when you call him that.”
Trinity and Trace had grown up in the same neighborhood as kids and had always had a brother-sister-like relationship. After he left the navy and moved back to Las Vegas, he joined LEPA and had been with the agency ever since. He and Connie had only met a year ago, when she relocated to the Vegas office from their branch in Los Angeles.
Connie was staying firm to keeping her and Trace as friends. Especially since every time she opened her heart to someone, they found a way to disappoint her. Or maybe it was that she just chose wrong when it came to men. Either way, she was good at cutting her losses and moving on. She didn’t want that to happen with Trace, though. If they didn’t complicate whatever was happening between them, they could at least stay friends.
“Oh.” Trinity snapped her fingers. “On a serious note. What do you think about him in a management role? We’re going to need to set up another team, specifically when some of these contracts start rolling in. I don’t want to oversee another group, and I know you don’t. Instead of hiring someone from the outside, how about we promote from within?”
Connie had actually thought about that months ago, when Trace had filled in for one of the other managers. He had phenomenal people skills, was dependable and well respected at the company. Besides that, he knew how Trinity and Connie liked things run. A frisson of anticipation coursed through her at the prospect of seeing his handsome face in the office every day. His presence always made her feel giddy inside. Then again, if she wanted to maintain some type of professionalism, having Trace around all the time could prove challenging.
“I think it’s an excellent idea to promote from within. I just don’t think Trace will want an office job. He likes to be out and about, and a part of the action. Sitting at a desk all day will bore him to death.”
Trinity nodded. “You’re probably right. Okay, I’m outta here. Let me know how it goes with Kya.”
“Will do. Oh, and I’m going to the bank during my lunch break and probably stop at the sandwich shop on my way back. Want anything?”
“Yeah, my usual, but make sure they don’t put onions on the salad or the sandwich.” She placed her hand on her small baby bump. “This kid always gives me trouble after I eat onions.”
“Got it. No onions.”
Three hours later, Connie strolled into the bank. The old, run-down building was one brick away from crumbling into a heap, but at least the air conditioner worked. The cool air kissed her heated skin, and she soaked it up. Deciding to walk to the bank from the office might not have been the best decision. Her silk blouse stuck to her as if glued to her skin. It was only April and already the Vegas temperature had hit eighty degrees.
Connie removed her sunglasses and blinked several times, giving her eyes time to adjust to the fluorescent lights. Clearly, she hadn’t been the only person to decide to drop by during the lunch hour. A couple of people sat talking to personal bankers, while at least four others stood in line for a teller.
Connie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside the bank. She headed to the line, her heels clicking on the ceramic tiles. The sound echoed off the walls.
“Next,” one of the tellers called out.
While standing in line, Connie pulled out her cell phone to check emails. A smile kicked up the corners of her mouth as she skimmed the email from Trinity, letting her know about a meeting later. She especially liked the last part of the message.
All hail to the queen of getting stuff done. Kya’s been handled, and you managed to finish your portion of the state application. When I grow up, I want to be like you.
Connie snorted. She and Trinity had met their junior year of high school, and from day one Connie recognized her friend’s ambition. Trinity had that never-say-quit attitude and went after everything she wanted. If anything, Connie wanted to be more like her. Maybe not so much a business owner, but she’d love to be married with children one day. But that was never going to happen if she refused to trust any more men with her heart.
“Next.”
Connie glanced up to see that the three people who were in line were now in front of tellers. Four others had filed into line behind her.
“Good afternoon,” the bank teller said when Connie approached. “Thanks for your patience. How may I help you today?”
“Hi. I just want to make a deposit. I tried using the mobile app, but for the last two days, it wouldn’t let me deposit checks.”
“I’m sorry about that,” the woman said as she processed the deposit. “A few others have had problems with the app and the bank is looking into the issue.”
Connie nodded. Computers were great when they worked. But when they didn’t, they were a pain in the butt.
“Okay, you’re all set, Ms. Shaw. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Nope, that’s it. Thank you.”
Connie went in the opposite direction of the entrance and around the line, hoping to run into Richard Holmes. He was the loan officer who’d been instrumental in getting her a good rate on a mortgage when she first moved to town. She didn’t visit the bank often, but when she did, she always made a point to stop and say hello to him.
Connie peeked into his office, glad to see he wasn’t with anyone. When he glanced up from the document he was reading, she smiled and gave a little wave.
“Well, hello, stranger,” he greeted her.
He removed his reading glasses and set them on the desk before approaching her. In his early sixties, Richard Holmes had kind green eyes that crinkled in the corners whenever he smiled, the way he was doing now. His full head of hair was grayer than she remembered, but he still had a pep in his step as he approached her.
“You didn’t have to stop what you were doing,” Connie said as he shook her hand. “I just wanted to say hello on my way out.”
“I’m glad you did. I needed to get up and stretch these old bones, anyway.” He laughed, the sound deep and hearty like Santa Claus giving an enthusiastic ho-ho-ho. “How’s that house treating you?” he asked, and they slowly walked toward the entrance.
“It’s great, but I’m thinking about getting something bigger.” The two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bathroom 1970s bungalow was a cute starter home, but Connie was ready for something bigger and more modern.
“Well, make sure you stop by and see me when you’re ready. Interest rates are low and it’s a good time to buy.”
“You’ll be the first person I call. Have you—?”
“Hands in the air!”
Connie startled at the sudden booming voice and tightened the hold on her purse strap. She stood frozen in place, shocked to see a masked man a few feet away, holding a gun. It was then she noticed two additional men, dressed similarly in all black. One was standing on top of the counter overlooking the tellers and was waving his gun around. The other was pointing his own weapon at those in line.
“Get those hands up and get on the ground!” the robber closest to her yelled. His menacing voice sent chills scurrying down Connie’s spine. “Move it. Now! I’d better see everybody’s hands.”
Ice clogged Connie’s veins. She shook with fear as she and the others were forced to lie facedown on the floor. The erratic rhythm of her heartbeat thumped hard and fast, loud enough that others in the room could probably hear it.
Where the hell were the cops? Or even the security guard that she’d seen when she first arrived? The building was old, but surely it had some type of alarm system.
Mind racing like a jet-engine supercar, Connie was lying on her stomach, her arms out where they could be easily seen. Cold from the tiled floor seeped through her thin blouse and pants, but it did nothing to tamp down the fear spreading through her body like a wildfire.
The whole scenario was playing out like a bad dream as the thieves yelled instructions to the tellers, rushing them to stuff money into their bags. Connie had never felt so helpless in all of her life. Somebody needed to do something.
Through lowered lashes, she peeped out at the gunman who had been the closest. He swept his gun back and forth anxiously, while his partners gathered money from the tellers.
“Hurry up. We have three minutes,” one of them roared to the other two.
Movement to Connie’s left caught her attention. Richard, who’d been lying an arm’s length from her moments ago, was doing a very slow belly crawl backward toward his office. He was barely moving, but if she noticed him, the robbers might, too.
Connie wanted to scream at him to stop. What was he thinking? These guys had weapons and looked as if they meant business. Before she could think her next thought, one of the masked men roughly yanked Richard up by the back of his collar.
Connie screamed, and she slapped her own hand over her mouth. Heart racing and throat tightening, she quickly turned her head and slammed her eyes closed. Panic rocketed through her body. Curling into a ball with her arms covering her head, she tried making herself appear as small as possible.
Please don’t let them come over here. Please, please, please... Her pulse pounded in her ears like a locomotive roaring down the track as she lay frozen with fear.
“So you want to be a tough guy, huh?” the gunman growled.
A scuffle broke out. Richard cried and howled in pain as the sound of fists hitting skin pierced the air. Tears filled Connie’s eyes. She felt so helpless, and her heart broke as he pleaded with his attacker.
Two gunshots, thundering like fireworks, echoed through the air.
Connie could hear her screams mingling with the others in the room, and her heart stopped when a loud thump rattled the floor.
Oh, no... Richard.
“Dammit! What have you done?” one of the robbers yelled. “We gotta get out of here. Hurry! Go! Go! Go!”
Loud footsteps echoed by Connie’s head. She lifted her face from the protective barrier of her arms and chanced a glance just as the last man reached the main door. He started removing his mask but stopped...and turned.
Startling gray eyes met hers.
Held.
One second...then two... Then he was gone.
The breath Connie hadn’t realized she was holding whooshed through her mouth, and her body went limp.
Oh. Dear. God.
