“You’d better hope she never hears her ringtone,” Dimitri said.
“Like Rachel scares me,” she scoffed as she swiped the screen. “Wassup?” she said to their boss. There was a pause while she listened, and then, “No, I can’t put you on speaker, we’re in the corridor, guarding the freaking door. I can fill Dim Boy in after we’re done.”
His eyes ate her up as she listened to Rachel. Even in a plain black pant suit and white dress shirt, she was still the sexiest woman he’d ever set eyes on. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. Everywhere they went, men craned their necks to get a better look at her. Hell, she got more attention than the actress they were protecting. It was probably the reason Samantha kept touching him—she was jealous of Megan. He needed to talk to Rachel about the situation. Megan guarding the actress wasn’t working. She needed to assign a different team.
“Sure we’ll wait for you before we talk to her,” Megan said, her tone unnaturally casual, which set off all sorts of alarm bells. “How far away are you? Ten minutes? Fantastic. See you then.” She shut the phone off, slid it into her pocket, and turned toward the door.
Dimitri’s hand shot out, grabbing her arm to stop her. “What was that about? Aren’t you meant to wait for Rachel to get here before you talk to Samantha?”
“Oh, I think I need to have a word with our charge right now.” She shook off his hold, threw open the door, and stormed into the suite.
Although he knew better than to get between a Scottish woman and the object of her fury, duty demanded he at least follow and try to contain her. It was like trying to contain a tornado. She strode along the short hallway and turned left into the living-room area. As soon as they entered the room, Samantha shot to her feet while her agent—spray tan in a suit—shoved a set of papers into his briefcase, in a move so fast and practiced, Dimitri wasn’t even sure he’d seen it.
“What are you doing in here?” Samantha snapped. “This is a private meeting. Surely you didn’t think my own agent was a threat? And who’s guarding the door? What if someone sneaks in while you aren’t watching? This is my life on the line.”
“No. It’s not.” Megan strode toward the actress, forcing her back into her seat just by her presence.
“Maybe I should go.” The agent stood.
“Sit!” Megan snapped.
The man froze, unsure of what to do. Dimitri might be in the dark about the situation, but he sure as hell was going to back Megan up.
“You heard her,” he ordered. “Sit.”
The man sat.
“I’ll have you fired for this,” Samantha said. “Rachel will be furious with the way you treat her clients.”
“Funny you should mention Rachel.” Megan folded her arms and spread her feet wide as she stood in front of the actress. “I just got off the phone with her, and she has some concerns about this supposed stalker of yours.”
The woman paled, her hands shaking as her shoulders went back. She lifted her chin and stared down her nose at Megan. “Well, I’m sure Rachel will discuss them with me later. Now, please leave and let us finish our meeting.”
Dimitri sighed. Megan was right; the woman couldn’t act worth a damn. It was clear she was nervous and did very much care about whatever Rachel had told Megan.
“I’m calling your boss.” The agent dug his phone out of his pocket. “This is unacceptable.”
Megan reached over, snatched the phone from his hands and tossed it over her shoulder.
“That’s it!” The agent shot to his feet. “I won’t stand for this.”
“You’re right. You won’t.” Megan reached for her hip, unsnapped her holster, pulled out her gun and aimed it straight at the man’s forehead. “Sit,” she ordered the man. He sat. “Stay,” she added. And there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he would stay.
And just like that, the situation had spiraled down the toilet.
“Eh, Buffy?” Dimitri kept his eyes on the two people they were supposed to be protecting but were now threatening. “Want to get me up to speed here?”
“Don’t worry, babe” she said, her gun still trained on the agent. “It will soon become clear.” Her arm swung the weapon to point it at Samantha’s head. “Keep an eye on the overgrown Oompa Loompa for me while I have a talk with Princess Pain-in-the-arse.”
“Well, I never…” Samantha started to complain, but was silenced by the sight of a gun aimed at the spot between her eyes.
“As I was saying,” Megan said. “I just got off the phone with Rachel, and she told me something really interesting. It seems there was a fingerprint match on the last threatening letter you received. Want to guess whose it was?”
There was silence as Samantha and her agent shared a glance. And it was enough to tell Dimitri the whole story—they’d been had.
“No?” Megan said, her hand steady as she kept the gun pointed
at Samantha’s head. “It was yours. We found your print on the letter.”