Protected By The Enemy (Hacienda Heights Book 2) Page 3

  The home was settled into a residential area of the Heights. The house had power-blue siding, a large bay window on the east side—and a pair of guards situated on each side of the front door. Bingo. At lease she’d gotten smart.

  I was partially hidden from their view, for now, parked as I was behind a shady grove of palms. But as soon as I exited the SUV I’d become visible to the pair of men. And I didn’t want to sneak in the back door like a criminal. At least one of the guards had a sidearm.

  Fuck it.

  This was a risk I was going to have to take. I had to make things right with Mina, and she was just stubborn enough to turn me away when I was attempting to help her. Taking my foot off the brake, I pulled the SUV up the driveway and parked in front of the porch.

  Retrieving a pair of heavy duffel bags from the passenger seat, I exited the vehicle quickly and strode up the stairs like a man on a mission.

  The pair were good muscle, and obviously not dumb. The first man flicked the strap off his holster as I approached, giving him an added second to draw on me in case I was armed. His eyes narrowed behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and his shiny bald head damn near reflected the sunlight into my eyes. I hadn’t come to Hustler Headquarters armed, though it grated against every cell I had not to carry my weapon in a situation like this one.

  The second guard was younger and not quite as ready. He didn’t reach for his weapon until it was too late and I’d lifted each bag and swung them at the men flanking the door. The bags impacted like boulders, knocking the men to the porch floor as effectively as any tackle. The first guard’s gun went skittering across the porch and I kicked it away on reflex. The Browning Hi-Power tumbled off the porch and into the shrubbery.

  “Sorry, guys. No hard feelings.” Laughing and feeling better than I had in days, I shoved through the front door.

  The interior of the house wasn’t at all what I’d expected. The sitting room was littered with old paperback romances and smelled distinctly like burnt popcorn.

  A short black woman stood in the middle of the room, clutching a lamp. She raised it slightly above her head. “Don’t come any closer, creep.” She tried to sound confident, but the quavering note of fear in her voice gave her away.

  “Where’s Mina?” I asked, not bothering with subtlety. I’d bought myself about a minute while the well-meaning muscle outside gathered themselves.

  “I’m not telling you anything,” the woman shot back, waving the lamp again. The flick of her eyes to an adjoining room betrayed her and I made a beeline for that door, dodging her attempt to strike me with the lamp easily.

  The tone of the room was the opposite of Mina—full of muted, monochrome colors. The desk was piled high with papers, and Mina sat across from yet another man, with only a coffee table separating them.

  The man opposite Mina jumped to his feet in surprise, nearly upending the armchair in his haste to face me. Mina stayed very still, anger flashing behind her eyes even as she slowly set her glass down on the table.

  I hesitated for just a moment. The man looked vaguely familiar. Someone who stood on the periphery of the circles I ran in, maybe.

  Short in stature and thin, the man flushed with color and wagged a reproving finger at me, as though he were my father. From the panicked expression on his face, I figured he recognized me. Pity I couldn’t return the favor. “See here, Mr. Farraday. You can’t just burst in here. I don’t know why you’re here but what I do in my personal life is private. You can’t—”

  “Out,” I barked.

  I expected the man to have more of a backbone, but he apparently knew better than to argue with me. He scurried out of the office without so much as a backward glance.

  “How badly hurt are they?” Mina asked offhandedly. “Are my guards going to need traction?”

  “They’re fine,” I ground out. “But you won’t be unless you deal with this blackmail. I’m here to help you.”

  Mina let out a short, hard laugh and her back became more rigid, if that was possible. “Yes, like you helped me last time. Forgive me for saying so, but your help was probably the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

  “You didn’t seem to think so when we were together,” I pointed out. “When I fucked you in the shower. Or in the Hyatt closet, or the back seat...”

  Mina sprang to her feet, shushing me. She smacked my bicep on her way past and shut the door with an audible snap.

  “Don’t you dare bring that up!” she hissed. “What if someone hears?”

  “Are you ashamed of me?” I mocked. “You said you loved me.”

  “You were a job,” she snarled, rising on her tiptoes so she could shove her face into mine. “Nothing more.”

  Heavy footfalls sounded in the hall, and a second later, the pair of guards burst in, guns drawn.

  “Miss Blakely, are you alright?” the older of the pair asked, tone urgent, gun pointed in my direction.

  “I’m fine. He’s here to annoy me to death, not assassinate me. You can stand down, boys.”

  The pair exchanged a glance but didn’t holster their weapons.

  Mina pinched the bridge of her nose and expelled a breath. “Really, boys. It’s fine. Just go.”

  Neither of them moved an inch until Mina physically shoved them from the room. I’d be willing to bet that both were waiting just outside the door, ready to lay it flat if I so much as raised my voice.

  Mina braced her back against the door and raised an eyebrow at me. “What are you doing here?”

  I let the bags fall from my hands, impacting the floor with a dull thunk. Mina stared down at them as though she’d only just noticed I was carrying them.

  “What’s that?”

  In answer, I bent down and drew the zipper back on the first duffel, revealing the face of many, many smirking Benjamins. Mina’s eyes popped open wide as she stared down at the slash of green currency I’d revealed, like a kid eyeing the cookie jar.

  “Six million,” I told her. “I put in the call to withdraw it as soon as you left the gala. But I would have given it to you regardless. The approval just came through and I cashed it out.” I nudged the first bag toward her with my foot. “I’m hiring you again, Mina. Half of this is yours now and half once we’ve finished.”

  The pronouncement snapped her out of the daze and she glanced up at me, steely eyed once more. “Fine. I’m listening. Take a seat, Mr. Farraday.” The frosty bite to her words would have sent a lesser man running.

  Instead, it put a smile on my face. There was the Mina I’d always known. Her anger was something of a comfort to me. Love and hate rode the same coin. I’d always thought apathy was the killer of romance, not dislike or disdain. Apathy would never be an issue with Mina.

  I took a seat in front of her desk, where she’d retreated to, all business now. “I propose we work together to our mutual benefit.” I steepled my fingers in front of me, as though this were nothing more than a standard business meeting. No matter how desperate her circumstances, Mina wasn’t going to accept charity. “We’re both being blackmailed. I’ll deal with your blackmailer if you deal with mine.”

  Owen Mason was unlikely to suspect Mina of anything nefarious until it was far too late. And I knew firsthand how easily Mina could integrate herself into a crowd. I’d slip her into one of Owen’s dinner parties and let her do her magic. It sounded simple, but knowing our luck, it would be anything but. Still, I couldn’t leave her and the women she presided over open to danger when I could prevent it.

  Mina mulled over my proposal for a few minutes, shuffling papers as I assumed she tried to find any way around involving me. When she ultimately failed, she said, “Fine. I’ll take your contract. But I can’t meet with you until tomorrow afternoon. I have brunch to attend with Gideon’s family. I’ll meet you for coffee afterward. Heather will text you the address.”

  My hands tightened into fists at my sides. A fierce streak of jealousy ripped through me. “I thought you’d be through with that asswi
pe by now.”

  Mina curling close to Harvey the night before had been almost impossible to watch. The simple knowledge that he might have touched her summoned my worst instincts. I wanted to hunt him down and teach him a lesson for even daring to think he had a right to lay a finger on her.

  Satisfaction played across Mina’s face before she could hide it. She knew what I was feeling. Knew, and liked it. Not so detached after all.

  “Are you fucking him?” I demanded, unable to keep the question locked in my head where it belonged.

  Mina’s shoulders stiffened, and she turned primly, writing down the meeting we’d agreed upon on a calendar. “That isn’t any of your business, Mr. Farraday.”

  The chilly answer was unhelpful and infuriating. Visions of Gideon and Mina played out in my mind’s eye, as sharp and painful as the gunshot wound I’d received in Fallujah years ago.

  The door opened and both guards stepped in as if they’d been paged, or she’d called them with a hidden button. Good. At least I could rest assured she would be safe while doing business in her office. Both men glared at me then looked at her questioningly.

  “I’m fine,” Mina said, brushing the wrinkles from her blouse with a sniff. “Mr. Farraday was just leaving. Send word next time, by the way.” She shot a look at me. “I don’t want you scaring the guards again.”

  If they’d been guards of any caliber, I wouldn’t have been able to pass. I refrained from saying so out loud and stood, picking up the bags and placing one on her desk.

  “Tomorrow at noon. Send me the address, and don’t be late.”

  Mina’s eyes flashed and her jaw flexed, telling me she was holding back a nasty retort. “Tomorrow,” she agreed. “Now get out, Mr. Farraday, before I have my guards toss you out on your ass for trespassing.”

  I’d like to see them try. I’d gone easy on them, all things considered. Nevertheless, I stalked past the pair of guards in the foyer, receiving glares from each before I exited.

  Tomorrow, I’d rent out the whole goddamn coffee house if that’s what it took to get her alone. And then I’d make her forget Gideon Harvey ever existed.

  Chapter Five

  Mina

  “Mina, are you still not feeling well?”

  Gideon’s gentle question drew me back to the present, and I flushed with shame.

  We were seated in a back booth of an upscale pizza parlor. Brunch had been delayed by an hour, due to traffic, so the Harvey family had opted for lunch instead. It had been a novel treat to enjoy gourmet pizza with Gideon’s family. Pizza had been an unheard of delicacy until I’d gone to college and begun to date Logan. The Senator had been very concerned with appearances when I’d been growing up. I’d had to earn every single carb I consumed.

  “What?” I asked rather stupidly. All eyes traveled to our corner of the table and the heat in my cheeks intensified. Gideon’s family was concerned for me, and I’d been too busy contemplating my messy love life to pay attention to anything they were saying. I ought to give Gideon a refund. He’d paid for the best, and I wasn’t performing at my peak.

  “Are you feeling alright?” Gideon’s dark eyes clouded with concern. “I know you were feeling ill last night at the gala. I could take you home.”

  My gaze flicked over to Grandma Adele, who was picking at her food. Despite the pain medications she’d been prescribed, the pain that accompanied the rapidly growing tumors stole most of her appetite. I’d only seen her eat about a handful of grapes the night before at the gallery. She’d sipped at a cup of coffee since we’d arrived at the restaurant and now only nibbled at the crust of her artisan pizza.

  Since yesterday, my mind had been firmly focused on Logan’s visit. I’d barely slept, my mind performing a tug-of-war. My practical side said I should take his money and run. With the three million I already had, and the three Logan had left with me, I had enough to pay the blackmailers and kick Logan out of my life for good. But that went against every fiber of my being. I’d made a deal with Logan. There was no getting around that now. Besides, the blackmailer had stipulated that all the money come from Logan, and I hadn’t quite worked my way up to test whether that person would know if I gave them half the money in my own funds. Plus, my pride had been scraped raw since the ordeal in Morocco, and I couldn’t trust my fragile feelings where Logan was concerned. A girl had to draw the line somewhere if she had any chance of preserving her dignity.

  I was doing Gideon a disservice by not applying myself one-hundred-percent to his contract. He deserved to know at least part of the reason why.

  I slid one hand up his bicep and leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Could we speak alone, please? I’m not sure you want your family to hear.”

  Gideon shot me a puzzled glance but nodded. “Sure.”

  He made a vague excuse to his family and led me away from the table by the hand, waiting until we were in the hall by the restrooms before turning to me. “What’s wrong?”

  I licked my lips. There was plenty wrong. It was almost noon, for one. Logan was waiting for me, no doubt recording every revolution of the minute hand on his watch and committing it to memory. I was going to catch so much hell for being late. But none of that was relevant to Gideon’s contract, so I gave him a carefully constructed half-truth.

  “I’ve recently received threats. It’s nothing major and not something I want you to worry about. I’m sorry it’s interfered with my professionalism.”

  Gideon’s eyes bugged, and his grip on my hand tightened. “Someone’s been threatening you? Have you called the police?”

  I smiled, despite the anxiety pressing in on me from every side, and squeezed the hand covering mine in what I hoped was a reassuring fashion. “In a profession like mine, I can’t exactly go to the cops. Word would spread, and it would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise. Don’t worry about me. Private security and a top-notch investigator are handling the issue.”

  I almost snorted, envisioning exactly how Logan would react to being compared to a P.I.

  Gideon let go of my hand and his came up to cup the sides of my face. He drew me close enough that a light shove would knock our lips together. His warm breath fanned across my face.

  “Don’t feel like you have to stay,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t put you or my family at risk. If you ever need to leave to deal with this, tell me. My family will understand. They’re just pleased to see me with a woman like you.”

  “Someone pretty?”

  “Someone kind. Someone engaging and yes, undeniably gorgeous.” Gideon offered me a crooked half-smile that made my stomach flip. His fingers trailed along my cheeks, spreading tendrils of heat in their wake. His gaze fixed on my mouth with a hunger I’d only seen one other place.

  Oh no. No. I couldn’t start encouraging things like this. When he moved, I was ready, and the kiss brushed across my cheek.

  If the rejection stung Gideon, he didn’t show it. He got a firmer grip on my hand and led me back toward the table. “If you need to go, I understand. I mean it. I don’t want you to jeopardize your safety over me. My grandmother will understand.”

  “I can stay until the job is done,” I assured him. Logan would have to wait.

  When we returned to the table, Gideon’s grandmother appeared to be in better spirits. Her plate abandoned, she was talking animatedly with Gideon’s mother about our supposed wedding plans.

  “Sit, sit,” she commanded imperiously as we returned to the table. “I was telling Helen that we ought to dig my dress out of the closet. I think the silhouette would flatter your figure, dear.” She frowned and eyed my bust.

  I self-consciously hiked my collar a little higher to conceal the line of cleavage it exposed. Thankfully, my bruises had faded just enough to be concealed with some cover-up.

  “Though those are going to take some adjustments,” Grandma said, flattening her hands over her chest for emphasis. At twenty, she’d probably been a modest B-cup. Time and the disease had wasted her frame, leaving her al
l sharp angles and papery skin.

  Gideon’s face colored as his grandmother slid her hands down her chest like some aged cover model. “Grandma, can we not?”

  Adele grinned wickedly and struck a pose, one hand framing her thinning gray hair and the other jauntily on her hip.

  “What, you don’t think Grandma has it going on?”

  Gideon made an all too realistic impression of a choking man, and I snorted the sip of tea I’d taken. As I coughed and the table dissolved into laughter, I decided that I liked Adele.

  Gideon listened in silence for the rest of our meal as I traded tips with Adele. I knew at least a dozen designers, thanks to my work. I’d have to slip them a warning to deny service to Adele Harvey. I wasn’t going to let the woman slice up her priceless family heirloom to further this deception.

  “Really, Adele, I’m not sure it would work,” I said, heaving my chest up, just for the pleasure of watching Gideon’s face purple with embarrassment. “These things aren’t going to fit. I’d look like Elvira with a palette swap. I’m not sure that’s the vibe we want to strike.”

  “It would be memorable though,” Adele said with an almost girlish giggle. “But I see your point. We’ll go dress shopping this weekend dear. I know this cute little boutique in Hacienda Heights...”

  By the time we’d wrapped up our conversation, I was a whopping forty-five minutes late to my meeting with Logan. He was no doubt terrorizing baristas in my absence.

  Adele leaned up to kiss my cheek. “We’ll see you soon, dear. Take good care of my Gideon, won’t you?”

  “I will. But I’m not sure my work will permit seeing him for another few days. My backlog is insane.”

  I swiveled in time to catch Gideon’s face fall by a fraction.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked him.

  “Owen Mason is throwing a dinner party for his associates tonight. I was hoping you’d be my plus one.”