Chapter 1
Gabe
“Thanks for coming in early to take this case. I know it’s the first vacation you’ve had in five years.”
“Eight,” I correct as I pick up the file, “but who’s counting?”
My boss, Cord, grimaces. “I’d take it myself, but we—“
“Got the job to protect Maisey Wilson, I know. I read it in the company brief.” Wilson’s the biggest pop star in the world and is about to embark on a comeback world tour, but she’s hiring new security because her last ones ended up bringing a stalker to her dressing room to do lines of coke. Maisey got branded a cokehead and investigated by the DEA. Fortunately, the investigation cleared her, and now the head of security and the stalker are in jail, but she’s understandably distrustful of the old security staff so she cleaned house. “Glad you’re doing that job and not me.” I hate crowds on principle. The larger the gathering, the harder it is to protect the client. But stars are worse because you’re always getting photographed, which is bad for the business. People should not know what the bodyguard looks like.
“I figured. This one will be good. From everything I hear, the client basically lives in the lab facility.”
“This says the lab facility is over a hundred thousand square feet.” I point to the dossier.
“Yeah, well, if it was an easy job then they wouldn’t need us.” Cord slaps me on the back. “Look over the file and tell me how many people you need. The company wants you there yesterday.”
I push to my feet. “Will do.”
In my car, I take a look at the file. Catriona Hennessy is a twenty-seven-year-old prodigy who is leading a team of scientists studying how viruses work. Her current project is the development of a serum that can be used as a base for vaccines that would effectively eliminate all animal-borne viruses. It’s not a vaccine itself but rather a starter and could be considered a breakthrough scientific discovery akin to penicillin. The human trials of a vaccine based on this serum have already started and are showing great promise. Because of this, she and her work are coveted by governments and companies wanting to profit off her family. Catriona, however, plans to donate the entire body of research to a non-profit firm that would license the formula at a low cost so as to drive down the prices of all drugs.
“A real Mother Theresa,” I mutter, flipping to the next page. My breath catches and my brain short circuits. Catriona Hennessy is a flame-haired, freckle cheeked bombshell. She’s not smiling, and she’s wearing a plain white lab coat, but my dick is at attention. Not to be that guy, but I didn’t know scientists looked like this. They’re supposed to be gaunt and pale-skinned. Their faces are framed with Coke bottle glasses, and their shoulders are rounded forward from all the time spent peering into a microscope. They are not supposed to be pillow-lipped walking sex machines that make my dick hard and my mouth water. My first thought is not how best to make her safe, but how fast I can get her on her back. Fucking doomed, I am.
I grab my phone and shoot off a text to Cord.
Me: I have another engagement. Can’t take on this assignment
I regret sending the text the moment after I hit send.
Cord: Sorry. No one else is around and if it’s because she looks like what she looks like, isn’t that all the more reason to protect her.
I scowl at the screen. What’s he doing talking about what she looks like. Angrily I punch in a reply.
Me: What are you doing looking at a client you’re not even protecting?
Cord: I took the case in
Me: Doesn’t mean you have to drool on the photos
I wrench open the glove compartment and grab a fast food napkin I stuffed in there a week ago. With care, I brush the surface of the printed photo with the corner of the paper cloth. Damn Cord and his fucking out of control libido.
Cord: There was no drool but I admit to admiring Catriona. I’d have to be dead not to appreciate her.
I toss the napkin away and grab my gun.
Cord: I’m already on my way to the airfield. By the time you get here, you’ll be shooting at the tailwind.
Damn him. I shove the gun back into the holster. The phone chirps again and when I look down there’s another text waiting for me.
Cord: I’ll tell dispatch you’re taking the case. Don’t get dead.
Sonuvabitch. I jam my hand through my hair. What in the hell am I going to do? Technically, you’re not supposed to do personal protection for anyone you have feelings for because feelings get in the way of cool-headed decision-making. Either you cave to stupid demands because you don’t want to hurt their feelings or you’re blinded and distracted by their presence thus allowing dangers to slip by. If Catriona’s picture is this enticing, what’s she going to be like in person? If I was a weeping man, I’d be having a breakdown right now.