Reckless (Benson Security 1)

“I kid you not, but I don’t think he’s named after the punk guy.” To be honest, it wasn’t the worst nickname he’d come across. “The plan is to convince Johnny to okay a visit with his boss and arrange it for us.”

“I don’t get it.” Megan waved her chopsticks around for emphasis. “We have a team of hackers at our disposal, can’t they just find Rudi’s email address and give it to you? Wouldn’t that be the easiest way to set up a meeting with Rudi?”

“If only it was that simple.” He snatched one of the spring rolls before she could stop him. Her glare was adorable. “He lives offline. Everything is done through his assistants.”

He swore he could actually see her brain working. “So none of the trails lead to him. Smart. I suppose it’s the same deal with his cell phone number.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Rudi Abramovich had his personal contact information locked up tight. Either he approached you, or you got to him through his team. It was time consuming, difficult and seriously cautious. And it worked. He was still free while other men in the same business were long behind bars.

The waitress arrived with a large silver platter loaded with food and Megan bounced on her seat at the sight of it. She’d gravitated towards everything on the menu that was deep fried and when he’d asked her about it, she’d shrugged and told him she was Scottish. Before she could nab the sweet and sour chicken, again crispy fried, he loaded her plate with some of the steamed vegetables he’d ordered. The look of horror on her face was priceless.

“What did you do that for?”

“You need something that isn’t junk food.”

“I eat healthy food. Just not here. What’s the point of eating steamed broccoli when there’s fried rice on the table?” Her outrage almost made him laugh—he fought it back.

“Humour me. Cover the damn things in sweet and sour sauce if you like, but eat them. Your arteries will thank you.”

She pointed a chopstick at him. “Just for that comment, I’m ordering more spring rolls.” She covered the vegetables with sauce until they were practically swimming in it.

Dimitri shook his head. “You eat like a teenager.”

“Scottish,” she said again, like that was supposed to mean something.

He must have looked blank because she gave a long-suffering sigh. “We’re the nation that eats deep fried Mars Bars and Irn Bru sausages. The same country that claims haggis as its national dish,

but eats more curries than anywhere outside of India. Our supermarkets have three aisles dedicated to biscuits and cookies and one for fruit and veg. This,” she pointed at the table, “is amateur night for a Scot.” Then she chomped on a piece of deep fried chicken.

Dimitri shuddered before loading up on noodles and veg. “As I was saying, I’m hoping this guy is our access to Rudi. If he isn’t, we’ll need to come up with another plan.”

“Won’t it tip your hand going to Johnny first? I mean, if he doesn’t help us then Rudi knows your plan. He might send someone to take me from you. It would cut out the middle man. If I was him, that’s what I would do.”

“If the meeting starts to look like it’s going to go belly up I’ll think of something.”

She stilled. “This is just like in Scotland. You’re going to make this up as you go along, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m going to come up with a plan when it’s needed. A plan based on a lifetime of experience and training.”

“Yeah. Right.” She pointed her chopsticks at him. The woman used the utensils like a weapon. “That’s the attitude that left me rescuing myself in Scotland.”

“Here we go again.” He put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. “You just cannot let this go, can you? I would have gotten you out of there. I was waiting for the right time.”

“Who are you kidding? You were going to march me all the way to Rudi’s base in Romania and trade me for the whereabouts of your sister.”

“That was before I really knew you. And I wouldn’t have traded you. I’d have used you, like I’m doing now. Big difference.”

“Yep. I can hardly tell the two plans apart.”

“Eat your food.” Then just to annoy her, he moved the rest of the fried rice across the table and out of her reach.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Dimitri tried to focus on his food while mentally preparing for the meeting he’d scheduled. It was hard with Megan sitting so close to him. Everything about the woman was a distraction, from her bright blue eyes, to her luscious pink lips, through to her perfectly curved hips. He couldn’t be in the same room as her without wanting to touch, tease, taste. Even her crazy attitude and bad temper were temptation to him.

Twelve long months he’d eaten, breathed and slept the hunt for Katrina. Megan was the first thing that had been strong enough to break through his obsession. Being around her was like a time out from the stress and anxiety that constantly plagued him. And the more he was in her presence, the more he wanted to hold on to her. But he couldn’t. He had to focus. She had to focus. There was too much at stake to get distracted. Especially when they were this close to getting to Rudi.

He cleared his throat and cast around for a safer topic. “The workout room is finished. We start training tomorrow morning.”

She patted her lips with the white linen napkin, making his mind flood with all the other things he could do with those lips. “What training?”