Promises Unspoken
ONE
Jason O'Connor prowled the upstairs library of his beach front
home. Hands behind his back, he clasped one inside the other.
The dull thump of his black loafers against the hard wood floor
floated to the ceiling. It echoes around the thick wooden beams as
he walked in and out of towering oak bookshelves. Quiet, nothing
but peaceful quiet, tormented him. It should have lulled him into a
state of blissful serenity but instead it made him edgy. He moved
to his desk, his agitated steps silenced by thick red carpet in front
of it. Frowning, he stop at one of the large picture windows and
pulled back the heavy burgundy drapery. Pensively, he scanned
the sun-washed manicured lawns, which stretched out for miles in
every direction.
Has it only been six months since this mess started? It felt like
years. Years of being caged like an animal, unable to join the rest
of the world. Years of nothingness. Sitting around contemplating
how sad his life was wasn't something he cared to do. This forced
captivity was turning his fast paced life into boring normality.
His fingers clenched on the velvet curtain.
His thoughts turned to his fiancée, Melanie Louise Banicroft.
Now, that is a woman. A small smile touched his lips, and then it
was gone. He had yet to taste her ample charms. Small women
usually did nothing for him, but she was a beauty. A
sophisticated socialite who was everything he needed in a wife.
She knew the rules of the game and played them well. Maybe too
well, his frown tightened. When he'd started searching for a buyer
to take his company off his hands, she and her father stepped up
to the plate. Shocked that he’d received a response so soon but
extremely pleased, he'd asked her out. After only one month,
she'd agreed to be his wife. He was still astonished and a bit
mystified. It was almost like a whirlwind romance, without the
romance. If love had been involved maybe he wouldn’t feel so
edgy and ill at ease.
Jason sighed and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his
slacks. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been so determined to find
a mother figure for the twins. But once the decision had been
made, he'd acted fast, too fast. His brother always told him to
think things through. Now, it was too late for regrets. He would
make the best of it. He could learn to love her, if the promise in
her sweet kisses held out, then they would be just fine. The
problem was she wasn't taking this death threat very well.
Loosening his tie, his mind whirled over recent events. It seemed
like yesterday a sniper had taken his bodyguard's life, instead of
four months ago. The police could find nothing, yet every time he
left his estate in Long Island or his River Oaks home in Houston,
his life was threatened. Why would anyone
ONE
Jason O'Connor prowled the upstairs library of his beach front
home. Hands behind his back, he clasped one inside the other.
The dull thump of his black loafers against the hard wood floor
floated to the ceiling. It echoes around the thick wooden beams as
he walked in and out of towering oak bookshelves. Quiet, nothing
but peaceful quiet, tormented him. It should have lulled him into a
state of blissful serenity but instead it made him edgy. He moved
to his desk, his agitated steps silenced by thick red carpet in front
of it. Frowning, he stop at one of the large picture windows and
pulled back the heavy burgundy drapery. Pensively, he scanned
the sun-washed manicured lawns, which stretched out for miles in
every direction.
Has it only been six months since this mess started? It felt like
years. Years of being caged like an animal, unable to join the rest
of the world. Years of nothingness. Sitting around contemplating
how sad his life was wasn't something he cared to do. This forced
captivity was turning his fast paced life into boring normality.
His fingers clenched on the velvet curtain.
His thoughts turned to his fiancée, Melanie Louise Banicroft.
Now, that is a woman. A small smile touched his lips, and then it
was gone. He had yet to taste her ample charms. Small women
usually did nothing for him, but she was a beauty. A
sophisticated socialite who was everything he needed in a wife.
She knew the rules of the game and played them well. Maybe too
well, his frown tightened. When he'd started searching for a buyer
to take his company off his hands, she and her father stepped up
to the plate. Shocked that he’d received a response so soon but
extremely pleased, he'd asked her out. After only one month,
she'd agreed to be his wife. He was still astonished and a bit
mystified. It was almost like a whirlwind romance, without the
romance. If love had been involved maybe he wouldn’t feel so
edgy and ill at ease.
Jason sighed and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his
slacks. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been so determined to find
a mother figure for the twins. But once the decision had been
made, he'd acted fast, too fast. His brother always told him to
think things through. Now, it was too late for regrets. He would
make the best of it. He could learn to love her, if the promise in
her sweet kisses held out, then they would be just fine. The
problem was she wasn't taking this death threat very well.
Loosening his tie, his mind whirled over recent events. It seemed
like yesterday a sniper had taken his bodyguard's life, instead of
four months ago. The police could find nothing, yet every time he
left his estate in Long Island or his River Oaks home in Houston,
his life was threatened. Why would anyone
page 9
want me dead? He sighed; he understood how Melanie felt, who
could blame her for not wanting to share his exile?
His hand move in an absent caressed on the thick curtain beside
him. It was time to find out once and for all who was behind the
attacks. “But where do I start,” he asked himself aloud. “When
the people I should trust most, are the people I can't trust at all?”
“What was that?” He tensed and tossed a wary look over his
shoulder. Carl stood directly behind him, too close as a matter of
fact. Jason moved to the next window. He'd forgotten Carl was
even in the room.
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” he murmured.
“Jason, calm down,” Carl walked to his side again. “You're way
too edgy; you're starting to make me nervous.”
Jason looked down at him, wondering about this need Carl had to
stay close to him. “What do you mean calm down?” He snapped,
his eyes flashing. “I have a life. I have a business to run. Do you
think I can do that from here?” He began pacing again. “For Christ
sake Carl, there are trips I need to take. People I need to see. This
thing has put everything on hold,” he stopped at the stone fire
place, staring into the empty blackness.
Carl put a light hand on Jason's arm, and he tried not to cringe.
“That's what you have me for. No one cares about me and what I
do. I'm free to roam as I please. Haven't I taken good care of
things these past months?”
Jason resisted the urge to pull his arm free of Carl's clinging
sweaty grip. “Yes, you have and I thank you for it,” he admitted,
grudgingly.
Carl's hand found its way to Jason's back in a gentle rubbing
motion. “No thanks necessary. I was with Dennis for four years;
I know how he would've wanted things to be run. Don't worry
about a thing, if you're needed, I'll make sure you know it.”
Jason tensed and stepped away, his eyes narrowing. Not liking
the gleam in Carl's dark brown eyes. “I'm sure you will.”
Carl cleared his throat. “I need to go get my briefcase. There are
some things I need you to look at and sign. I'll be right back.”
Once Carl left the room, Jason rolled his shoulders and turned his
head from side to side to ease the tension. Tight muscles and over
strained nerves had him in knots. His thoughts drifted back to the
problem at hand. The culprit seemed to be waiting. But for what?
The police assumed, with the shooter dead, the case was over.
But he knew better. As Jason pondered having to play the waiting
game until the guilty party made his next move, he absently
noticed a yellow 1969 Corvette speeding up his long driveway.
Who would ruin a classic car like that with such an awful color?
He waited for the car to park and the person to emerge.
want me dead? He sighed; he understood how Melanie felt, who
could blame her for not wanting to share his exile?
His hand move in an absent caressed on the thick curtain beside
him. It was time to find out once and for all who was behind the
attacks. “But where do I start,” he asked himself aloud. “When
the people I should trust most, are the people I can't trust at all?”
“What was that?” He tensed and tossed a wary look over his
shoulder. Carl stood directly behind him, too close as a matter of
fact. Jason moved to the next window. He'd forgotten Carl was
even in the room.
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” he murmured.
“Jason, calm down,” Carl walked to his side again. “You're way
too edgy; you're starting to make me nervous.”
Jason looked down at him, wondering about this need Carl had to
stay close to him. “What do you mean calm down?” He snapped,
his eyes flashing. “I have a life. I have a business to run. Do you
think I can do that from here?” He began pacing again. “For Christ
sake Carl, there are trips I need to take. People I need to see. This
thing has put everything on hold,” he stopped at the stone fire
place, staring into the empty blackness.
Carl put a light hand on Jason's arm, and he tried not to cringe.
“That's what you have me for. No one cares about me and what I
do. I'm free to roam as I please. Haven't I taken good care of
things these past months?”
Jason resisted the urge to pull his arm free of Carl's clinging
sweaty grip. “Yes, you have and I thank you for it,” he admitted,
grudgingly.
Carl's hand found its way to Jason's back in a gentle rubbing
motion. “No thanks necessary. I was with Dennis for four years;
I know how he would've wanted things to be run. Don't worry
about a thing, if you're needed, I'll make sure you know it.”
Jason tensed and stepped away, his eyes narrowing. Not liking
the gleam in Carl's dark brown eyes. “I'm sure you will.”
Carl cleared his throat. “I need to go get my briefcase. There are
some things I need you to look at and sign. I'll be right back.”
Once Carl left the room, Jason rolled his shoulders and turned his
head from side to side to ease the tension. Tight muscles and over
strained nerves had him in knots. His thoughts drifted back to the
problem at hand. The culprit seemed to be waiting. But for what?
The police assumed, with the shooter dead, the case was over.
But he knew better. As Jason pondered having to play the waiting
game until the guilty party made his next move, he absently
noticed a yellow 1969 Corvette speeding up his long driveway.
Who would ruin a classic car like that with such an awful color?
He waited for the car to park and the person to emerge.
Page 10
A pair of long, shapely caramel legs, wearing six-inch white heels
came into view. Fine tuned muscles rippled as the woman got out
of the car. She stood up, and then turned, bending at the waist to
retrieve something still in the car. Her nicely rounded bottom
demanded closer scrutiny. He turned from the window and headed
for the door that would take him downstairs.
>>>>
Erica Mitchell was about to remove her suitcase but thought better
of it. I may not be here more than five minutes. She closed the car
door and gave the hem of her form fitting white dress a sharp tug.
She lifted a gloved hand and straightened her dark shades, then
turned towards the house. She filled her lungs with clean fresh sea
air. Clear blue June sky, white fluffy clouds, gentle gulf breeze and
mild heat all made up a beautiful day. South Padre Island, Texas.
The last place she'd ever thought to find herself. For a moment on
the drive here an unknown panic had gripped her. The urge to turn
around had been fierce. Marilyn, agent had cautioned her against
taking this assignment. Even her unofficial partner Sgt. Jessica
McGraw said this one was not like any she’d dealt with before.
But Erica couldn't listen, she was too close to her goal.
The money from this job alone could set her up for life in the style
she wanted, no, needed. After this, she'd never have to be around
another human being again. There was no way she could pass it
up. But now, staring at the large rambling house, her stomach
tightened. This would be just like all the others; she'd assured her
Marilyn. A quick touch of a few key players and the only thing
left would be to get the evidence. Erica smiled and patted her
purse, her plane ticket was dated for two weeks from today, and it
rested securely inside. She'd be on that flight headed home in no
time.
Getting off the plane in Corpus Christie, Erica had immediately
gone to pick up her car. Thanking God, Marilyn hadn't forgotten to
have it delivered. After reading a map, she'd made in advance, she
headed due south, straight into the afternoon sun. An hour later
she'd come to a long stretch of road leading deep into the wide
expanse of the glittering blue waters of the Gulf.
At the end of this road stood a tropical oasis. Lush, towering oaks,
willowy cypress and leaning pecan trees drenched in dazzling
sunlight engulfed her. Quick flashes of red, yellow and white
hinted at wild flowers decorating the thick green floor. It was a jolt
to the system, emerging from that cool green darkness into the
wide expanse of well maintained lawns and decorative wrought
iron gates.
Her gaze settled on the impressive house in front of her. It stood
three floors high, all beige stucco, typical southwestern style with
white trim. Red clay tile graced the dramatic angles of the roof.
Two attached wings stretched out on either side, three layers of
dark windows lined with white shutters gave the place a twentieth
century flare she liked.
A pair of long, shapely caramel legs, wearing six-inch white heels
came into view. Fine tuned muscles rippled as the woman got out
of the car. She stood up, and then turned, bending at the waist to
retrieve something still in the car. Her nicely rounded bottom
demanded closer scrutiny. He turned from the window and headed
for the door that would take him downstairs.
>>>>
Erica Mitchell was about to remove her suitcase but thought better
of it. I may not be here more than five minutes. She closed the car
door and gave the hem of her form fitting white dress a sharp tug.
She lifted a gloved hand and straightened her dark shades, then
turned towards the house. She filled her lungs with clean fresh sea
air. Clear blue June sky, white fluffy clouds, gentle gulf breeze and
mild heat all made up a beautiful day. South Padre Island, Texas.
The last place she'd ever thought to find herself. For a moment on
the drive here an unknown panic had gripped her. The urge to turn
around had been fierce. Marilyn, agent had cautioned her against
taking this assignment. Even her unofficial partner Sgt. Jessica
McGraw said this one was not like any she’d dealt with before.
But Erica couldn't listen, she was too close to her goal.
The money from this job alone could set her up for life in the style
she wanted, no, needed. After this, she'd never have to be around
another human being again. There was no way she could pass it
up. But now, staring at the large rambling house, her stomach
tightened. This would be just like all the others; she'd assured her
Marilyn. A quick touch of a few key players and the only thing
left would be to get the evidence. Erica smiled and patted her
purse, her plane ticket was dated for two weeks from today, and it
rested securely inside. She'd be on that flight headed home in no
time.
Getting off the plane in Corpus Christie, Erica had immediately
gone to pick up her car. Thanking God, Marilyn hadn't forgotten to
have it delivered. After reading a map, she'd made in advance, she
headed due south, straight into the afternoon sun. An hour later
she'd come to a long stretch of road leading deep into the wide
expanse of the glittering blue waters of the Gulf.
At the end of this road stood a tropical oasis. Lush, towering oaks,
willowy cypress and leaning pecan trees drenched in dazzling
sunlight engulfed her. Quick flashes of red, yellow and white
hinted at wild flowers decorating the thick green floor. It was a jolt
to the system, emerging from that cool green darkness into the
wide expanse of well maintained lawns and decorative wrought
iron gates.
Her gaze settled on the impressive house in front of her. It stood
three floors high, all beige stucco, typical southwestern style with
white trim. Red clay tile graced the dramatic angles of the roof.
Two attached wings stretched out on either side, three layers of
dark windows lined with white shutters gave the place a twentieth
century flare she liked.
page 11
Adjusting the shades, she closed her eyes and filled her lungs
with air once again. This time she focused on the energy
surrounding the house. There was a heavy pull on her heart,
accompanied by an aching sadness that gripped her so hard, her
eyes began to burn as if tears were waiting to overtake her.
Swallowing hard, she shook it off. Whatever awaited her behind
those beautifully carved oak doors; she would handle with her
usual quiet indifference and be on her way.
Erica walked up to the wraparound porch. She hesitated before
stepping to the massive, double doors. Lifting one gloved finger,
she pushed the button. A soft chime not unlike Cathedral bells
flowed from the residence. The evening sun was behind the
house, leaving her standing in the shadows. Still, she made sure
her shades were in place and her gloves on. They were her armor,
her only defense against a cruel world. For this job, she sensed
she would need them more than ever. Her heart thundered hard
against her ribs, she waited for something, not knowing what it
was.
Finally the door swung open. A man of medium height, and
rather oily looking brown hair stood staring at her, “We don’t
want any,” he said his voice gruff.
Erica lifted one sleek, black brow at the once over his shallow
brown eyes gave her. So, this is the way it's going to be is it?
“I'm here to see Jason O'Connor,” this has to be Carl Burgese.
Lines of tension framed his dark eyes. His thin, pale lips looked
fused together.
Weak brown eyes held hers, and then flashed away. “He’s
busy,” he started to close the door.
She grabbed its edge.
Pausing, he stared at her gloved hand, his eyes narrowed.
“Remove your hand,” he hissed, “before I'm forced to call the
police.”
“I have an appointment,” she said, in a crisp clear tone. Her chin
held high, Erica took in his flushed face and flaring nostrils. Just
as he opened his mouth, a different voice shot out from behind
him.
“The lady said she has an appointment, Carl. Step aside,”
Carl stiffened, his gaze narrowed.
She could almost see the hair rising up on the back of his neck.
Ignoring the brown daggers his eyes shot at her, she resisted the
urge to smirk at him and released the door.
“I didn't want to bother you Jason. She isn't in the appointment
book. I was just sending her away,” Carl's voice had taken on a
whinny almost pleading quality.
“Move out of the way Carl.”
She heard the steel in that voice. There was no way he wouldn't
obey. Fury written on his face, Carl stepped back, opening the
door wider. Suddenly, the owner of that deep voice moved
forward. Erica thanked God for her shades
Adjusting the shades, she closed her eyes and filled her lungs
with air once again. This time she focused on the energy
surrounding the house. There was a heavy pull on her heart,
accompanied by an aching sadness that gripped her so hard, her
eyes began to burn as if tears were waiting to overtake her.
Swallowing hard, she shook it off. Whatever awaited her behind
those beautifully carved oak doors; she would handle with her
usual quiet indifference and be on her way.
Erica walked up to the wraparound porch. She hesitated before
stepping to the massive, double doors. Lifting one gloved finger,
she pushed the button. A soft chime not unlike Cathedral bells
flowed from the residence. The evening sun was behind the
house, leaving her standing in the shadows. Still, she made sure
her shades were in place and her gloves on. They were her armor,
her only defense against a cruel world. For this job, she sensed
she would need them more than ever. Her heart thundered hard
against her ribs, she waited for something, not knowing what it
was.
Finally the door swung open. A man of medium height, and
rather oily looking brown hair stood staring at her, “We don’t
want any,” he said his voice gruff.
Erica lifted one sleek, black brow at the once over his shallow
brown eyes gave her. So, this is the way it's going to be is it?
“I'm here to see Jason O'Connor,” this has to be Carl Burgese.
Lines of tension framed his dark eyes. His thin, pale lips looked
fused together.
Weak brown eyes held hers, and then flashed away. “He’s
busy,” he started to close the door.
She grabbed its edge.
Pausing, he stared at her gloved hand, his eyes narrowed.
“Remove your hand,” he hissed, “before I'm forced to call the
police.”
“I have an appointment,” she said, in a crisp clear tone. Her chin
held high, Erica took in his flushed face and flaring nostrils. Just
as he opened his mouth, a different voice shot out from behind
him.
“The lady said she has an appointment, Carl. Step aside,”
Carl stiffened, his gaze narrowed.
She could almost see the hair rising up on the back of his neck.
Ignoring the brown daggers his eyes shot at her, she resisted the
urge to smirk at him and released the door.
“I didn't want to bother you Jason. She isn't in the appointment
book. I was just sending her away,” Carl's voice had taken on a
whinny almost pleading quality.
“Move out of the way Carl.”
She heard the steel in that voice. There was no way he wouldn't
obey. Fury written on his face, Carl stepped back, opening the
door wider. Suddenly, the owner of that deep voice moved
forward. Erica thanked God for her shades
page 12
For the first time in her life she was speechless, a smoldering heat
worked its way up her body to settle in her cheeks. Unable to take
her eyes from him, she held her breath as he stopped in front of
her. Smooth, long-legged strides closed the distance easily.
She swallowed hard, quickly looking away from his clear green
eyes. Her confused gaze fell to his sculpted lips as they lifted in a
charming smile.
“I'm Jason O'Connor,” he held out his hand to her. “Can I help
you?”
Erica took the offered hand, shaking it firmly, her gaze never
leaving his lips. An insane thought popped into her head. What
would it feel like to touch him without these gloves? She mentally
shook herself. “My name is Erica Mitchell. May I come in?”
Jason grinned, conscious of the long moments gone by, still he
stared. The corners of her lips lifted in what could've been a smile.
He liked the way her cheeks pinkened, but she didn't move a
muscle. His gaze slid lazily lower. The honeyed cords of her voice
had drawn him the instant he heard it. Deep and sensual, it
reminded him of the bedroom. He cleared his throat. His starved
body had reacted instantly, just as quickly he stamped it
down.
“Please, come in,” he turned to Carl. “Don’t you have something to
do? We can continue our discussion later.”
Erica wondered at the sharp glance O'Connor turned on Carl. His
emerald green eyes hard as flint, they held a silent message the man
apparently understood. Flustered, she used those few moments to
get her emotions together. No one had ever looked at her like that!
She felt like little red riding hood facing the big bad wolf. She
clasped her hands tight to still they're shaking. Licking her
suddenly dry lips, she closed her eyes for a brief moment.
Huffing, Carl muttered under his breath and turned hurrying
towards the back of the house.
“Follow me,” Jason motioned to her as he closed the door. Her
fragrance wrapped around his senses, Jasmine, light and as delicate
as its namesake. Who is she? A neighbor? There were only a
handful and he knew them all. His gaze followed the gentle sway of
her slender hips, all the way up to her long slim neck. Her glossy
black hair caught up in a large elegant bun that seemed too heavy
for her graceful neck. White was unquestionably her color, the
dress did wonderful things to his imagination. His body stirred in a
decisively unneighborly way. Curiosity ate at him, as he led the
way.
Passing through the spacious foyer, Erica was impressed. She'd
been in many fine homes over the years but this one surprised her.
Fleetingly, she noticed the graceful curve of black wrought-iron
rails of the staircase leading from the foyer to plateau on the second
floor and branch off in different directions. An eighteenth century
chandelier hung from high above, its dainty crystal tinkling, sending
a blaze of bright colors around the room.
For the first time in her life she was speechless, a smoldering heat
worked its way up her body to settle in her cheeks. Unable to take
her eyes from him, she held her breath as he stopped in front of
her. Smooth, long-legged strides closed the distance easily.
She swallowed hard, quickly looking away from his clear green
eyes. Her confused gaze fell to his sculpted lips as they lifted in a
charming smile.
“I'm Jason O'Connor,” he held out his hand to her. “Can I help
you?”
Erica took the offered hand, shaking it firmly, her gaze never
leaving his lips. An insane thought popped into her head. What
would it feel like to touch him without these gloves? She mentally
shook herself. “My name is Erica Mitchell. May I come in?”
Jason grinned, conscious of the long moments gone by, still he
stared. The corners of her lips lifted in what could've been a smile.
He liked the way her cheeks pinkened, but she didn't move a
muscle. His gaze slid lazily lower. The honeyed cords of her voice
had drawn him the instant he heard it. Deep and sensual, it
reminded him of the bedroom. He cleared his throat. His starved
body had reacted instantly, just as quickly he stamped it
down.
“Please, come in,” he turned to Carl. “Don’t you have something to
do? We can continue our discussion later.”
Erica wondered at the sharp glance O'Connor turned on Carl. His
emerald green eyes hard as flint, they held a silent message the man
apparently understood. Flustered, she used those few moments to
get her emotions together. No one had ever looked at her like that!
She felt like little red riding hood facing the big bad wolf. She
clasped her hands tight to still they're shaking. Licking her
suddenly dry lips, she closed her eyes for a brief moment.
Huffing, Carl muttered under his breath and turned hurrying
towards the back of the house.
“Follow me,” Jason motioned to her as he closed the door. Her
fragrance wrapped around his senses, Jasmine, light and as delicate
as its namesake. Who is she? A neighbor? There were only a
handful and he knew them all. His gaze followed the gentle sway of
her slender hips, all the way up to her long slim neck. Her glossy
black hair caught up in a large elegant bun that seemed too heavy
for her graceful neck. White was unquestionably her color, the
dress did wonderful things to his imagination. His body stirred in a
decisively unneighborly way. Curiosity ate at him, as he led the
way.
Passing through the spacious foyer, Erica was impressed. She'd
been in many fine homes over the years but this one surprised her.
Fleetingly, she noticed the graceful curve of black wrought-iron
rails of the staircase leading from the foyer to plateau on the second
floor and branch off in different directions. An eighteenth century
chandelier hung from high above, its dainty crystal tinkling, sending
a blaze of bright colors around the room.
page 13
She followed him down a long dark hallway and into a room off
to the left. The light clicking of her heels on the highly polished
black and gray veined marbled floor filled the silence. Her gaze
flittered from one thing to the next, anywhere but on him. The
Great-room was decorated in soft warm colors, it had an
inviting feel to it, totally southwest.
A large flagstone fireplace caught her attention; there above the
mantel was a gild trimmed oil of a man and two children. The
children were obviously twins, a boy and a girl. The man's
piercing green eyes stared at her. His black hair was covered
with a good amount of gray; he seemed a harsher more severe
version of Jason.
She turned to see a large bright kitchen off to her left, steel
appliances winked at her in the late evening sun. A cooking
island stood in the center of the room, stainless steel pots and
utensils hung over it. Neat and clean it looked well organized.
To her right were huge smoke glass doors leading to a partially
covered wooden deck out back and the majestic beauty of the
ocean.
“Have a seat Ms. Mitchell,” he indicated to the oversized tan
leather couch in front of her.
“I need to tell you why I'm here first,” Erica focused on his
eyes, desperate to ignore the rest of him.
“Alright, go ahead,” he said, from where he stood near a less
formal staircase beside the fireplace. Muscles bulged in the long
sleeves of his white shirt as he crossed his arms over his broad
chest, a slight smile played along the sculpted lines of his lips,
and her stomach fluttered.
“I’m your bodyguard,” she said simply. His smile broadened.
Then he laughed out right, his even, white teeth flashing as he
threw his dark head back letting lose a rich full-bodied laugh
that filled the room.
Erica stiffened, she was accustomed to this kind of reaction, she
expected it. But she braced herself; something about him led her
to believe he would not be easily handled. Folding her arms
across her chest, she waited for him to see she was totally
serious. She tensed, the moment came sooner than she expected.
His deep emerald eyes were intense as he stared at her. “You
are joking, right?”
“No, I'm not. I was hire three days ago.”
As she expected those beautiful eyes turned dark as thunder
clouds just before the clap of lightening would strike.
“Carl! Carl get in here!” The sudden yell caught her by surprise
but she dare not show it. His handsome face was now tight
with anger, his eyes drilled her. Staring hard as if to find out
something without asking a question. It was unnerving, but she
kept her face impassive, her shoulders back and her head high.
She followed him down a long dark hallway and into a room off
to the left. The light clicking of her heels on the highly polished
black and gray veined marbled floor filled the silence. Her gaze
flittered from one thing to the next, anywhere but on him. The
Great-room was decorated in soft warm colors, it had an
inviting feel to it, totally southwest.
A large flagstone fireplace caught her attention; there above the
mantel was a gild trimmed oil of a man and two children. The
children were obviously twins, a boy and a girl. The man's
piercing green eyes stared at her. His black hair was covered
with a good amount of gray; he seemed a harsher more severe
version of Jason.
She turned to see a large bright kitchen off to her left, steel
appliances winked at her in the late evening sun. A cooking
island stood in the center of the room, stainless steel pots and
utensils hung over it. Neat and clean it looked well organized.
To her right were huge smoke glass doors leading to a partially
covered wooden deck out back and the majestic beauty of the
ocean.
“Have a seat Ms. Mitchell,” he indicated to the oversized tan
leather couch in front of her.
“I need to tell you why I'm here first,” Erica focused on his
eyes, desperate to ignore the rest of him.
“Alright, go ahead,” he said, from where he stood near a less
formal staircase beside the fireplace. Muscles bulged in the long
sleeves of his white shirt as he crossed his arms over his broad
chest, a slight smile played along the sculpted lines of his lips,
and her stomach fluttered.
“I’m your bodyguard,” she said simply. His smile broadened.
Then he laughed out right, his even, white teeth flashing as he
threw his dark head back letting lose a rich full-bodied laugh
that filled the room.
Erica stiffened, she was accustomed to this kind of reaction, she
expected it. But she braced herself; something about him led her
to believe he would not be easily handled. Folding her arms
across her chest, she waited for him to see she was totally
serious. She tensed, the moment came sooner than she expected.
His deep emerald eyes were intense as he stared at her. “You
are joking, right?”
“No, I'm not. I was hire three days ago.”
As she expected those beautiful eyes turned dark as thunder
clouds just before the clap of lightening would strike.
“Carl! Carl get in here!” The sudden yell caught her by surprise
but she dare not show it. His handsome face was now tight
with anger, his eyes drilled her. Staring hard as if to find out
something without asking a question. It was unnerving, but she
kept her face impassive, her shoulders back and her head high.
page 14
“Please, tell me you're lying,” he said the quiet tension in his voice
touching her.
Erica shook her head. One big vein bulged in his neck. Will I be able
to convince him to let me stay? Anxiety griped her.
“What is it?” Carl hurried into the room out of breath. “What
happened?”
“Why don't you tell me what happened?” Jason growled bare
inches from Carl's flustered face. “This lady seems to think she, is
my bodyguard. Do you mind enlightening me?”
Carl turned to Erica, his sunken cheeks drained of color. “Look, I
don't know what you’re trying to do but it won't work. I'll show to
the door,” he walked purposely towards her, his brown eyes
flashing.
“Don't touch her Carl,” Jason said, a dangerous note in his voice he
took a step towards them.
Carl halted in mid stride, his chest heaving, he turned to Jason. “She’
s lying! I'd never hire a woman!” He shouted, his hands flying
around in agitation. “You know that Jason!”
“I have a copy of my contract. Would you like to see it?” She
pulled it from her handbag and walked to Jason.
Carl snatched it from her gloved hand.
Erica clenched her teeth, holding on to her temper, her eyes
narrowed dangerously.
Carl walked a few feet away from her. Unfolding the papers, he
scanned the contents. His face drained of any remaining color. Wide
nearly black eyes flew to Jason, but Jason was already on him. “I
didn't do this I swear.”
Taking the papers from Carl’s shaking hands. He quickly read them.
“Isn't this your hand writing?” he asked waving the papers at Carl.
“Did I ask you to look into finding someone to replace Danny?”
Carl cringed, backing away. “Yes, you did but I didn't know she
was a woman,” he turned to Erica. “Don't you have a brother or
something?” He cried, apparently on the verge of breaking down.
“That doesn't matter,” Erica snapped. “The contract was written
out to me.”
“The question Carl, is what are you trying to pull? You know what
happened to Kyle, Rick and Danny,” Jason said his voice deadly
soft. He advanced on Carl. “Do you really think I would let a
woman put her life on the line for me? I trusted you to find
someone capable! Is this all I can expect?”
Carl backed up until he was pressed against the glass doors. “Jason,
I know you trust me,” he held up his hands. “Look I'm sorry. I'll fix
it; I'll get rid of her,” he turned to Erica, hurrying away from Jason.
He stopped a few feet from her. “Tell your boss she duped us. She
never told me you were a girl.”
“That's because I'm not a girl, I'm a woman,” Erica said smoothly,
watching him flounder. “Besides, you knew that.”
“Please, tell me you're lying,” he said the quiet tension in his voice
touching her.
Erica shook her head. One big vein bulged in his neck. Will I be able
to convince him to let me stay? Anxiety griped her.
“What is it?” Carl hurried into the room out of breath. “What
happened?”
“Why don't you tell me what happened?” Jason growled bare
inches from Carl's flustered face. “This lady seems to think she, is
my bodyguard. Do you mind enlightening me?”
Carl turned to Erica, his sunken cheeks drained of color. “Look, I
don't know what you’re trying to do but it won't work. I'll show to
the door,” he walked purposely towards her, his brown eyes
flashing.
“Don't touch her Carl,” Jason said, a dangerous note in his voice he
took a step towards them.
Carl halted in mid stride, his chest heaving, he turned to Jason. “She’
s lying! I'd never hire a woman!” He shouted, his hands flying
around in agitation. “You know that Jason!”
“I have a copy of my contract. Would you like to see it?” She
pulled it from her handbag and walked to Jason.
Carl snatched it from her gloved hand.
Erica clenched her teeth, holding on to her temper, her eyes
narrowed dangerously.
Carl walked a few feet away from her. Unfolding the papers, he
scanned the contents. His face drained of any remaining color. Wide
nearly black eyes flew to Jason, but Jason was already on him. “I
didn't do this I swear.”
Taking the papers from Carl’s shaking hands. He quickly read them.
“Isn't this your hand writing?” he asked waving the papers at Carl.
“Did I ask you to look into finding someone to replace Danny?”
Carl cringed, backing away. “Yes, you did but I didn't know she
was a woman,” he turned to Erica. “Don't you have a brother or
something?” He cried, apparently on the verge of breaking down.
“That doesn't matter,” Erica snapped. “The contract was written
out to me.”
“The question Carl, is what are you trying to pull? You know what
happened to Kyle, Rick and Danny,” Jason said his voice deadly
soft. He advanced on Carl. “Do you really think I would let a
woman put her life on the line for me? I trusted you to find
someone capable! Is this all I can expect?”
Carl backed up until he was pressed against the glass doors. “Jason,
I know you trust me,” he held up his hands. “Look I'm sorry. I'll fix
it; I'll get rid of her,” he turned to Erica, hurrying away from Jason.
He stopped a few feet from her. “Tell your boss she duped us. She
never told me you were a girl.”
“That's because I'm not a girl, I'm a woman,” Erica said smoothly,
watching him flounder. “Besides, you knew that.”
page 15
“I didn't know that!” Carl growled his fists clenched at his
sides. “I didn't sign with you.”
“I'm sorry, but you did,” her eyes fell to Jason, knowing the
fluttering in her stomach was from fear he would make her
leave. A deep frown creased his brow; she prayed he would
prove manageable. But from the looks of things she might have
to save Carl's life.
“Am I to believe you hired a super model guard me?” Jason's
voice shook with barely contained fury. “Is this what you call
doing your best?” He flung a hand towards her. “Look at her!”
“I resent that!” Erica snapped. “I am very good at my job. All
my cases have been solved in no less than two weeks after
inception. If you'll look at my credentials you'll see I'm very
thorough.”
“I'm sure you are Ms.,” his gaze slid from her face to her lips
and paused. Her heart slammed wildly in her chest as he
continued. “I prefer women one way and one way only. You
have to go.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” she announced, then added. “That
contract is iron clad.”
“Jason look, there has to be a way out of this,” Carl moved to
where Erica stood, he held out shaking hands to her. “Ms, the
person I hired is six feet, an expert in karate and his name is
Eric Mitchell.” Desperation made his voice high.
“I'm all that and then some. You must have over looked the A
at the end of my name.” She folded her arms across her chest
and waited.
“God damn it! I didn't sign that contract with you! I signed
with a man,” he stood in the middle of the room both fists
clenched.
“Mr. Burgese,” Erica said evenly. “You came to us; we didn't
go looking for you. I understand you were in too much of a
rush to stick around and meet me. The fact remains it is a
binding contract. I'll leave if Mr. O'Connor wants me to. All
you have to do is write out a check for the money promised me
for my time.”
Jason unfolded the crushed contract, he cursed roundly,
throwing a speaking look at Carl. “What the hell were you
thinking? Look at this. You promised her a king’s ransom.”
Carl’s eyes threw daggers at Erica. “I had to promise that
much. Word has gotten around that you are a high risk. I was
lucky to find someone willing to do it for that price, or so I
thought.”
Jason moved to where she stood. “There’s been a mistake,” he
explained. She stiffened and backed away, he was too close. “I’
ll see what I can do to rectify this. Why don’t I call you in the
morning? We can get this matter settled then.”
“I didn't know that!” Carl growled his fists clenched at his
sides. “I didn't sign with you.”
“I'm sorry, but you did,” her eyes fell to Jason, knowing the
fluttering in her stomach was from fear he would make her
leave. A deep frown creased his brow; she prayed he would
prove manageable. But from the looks of things she might have
to save Carl's life.
“Am I to believe you hired a super model guard me?” Jason's
voice shook with barely contained fury. “Is this what you call
doing your best?” He flung a hand towards her. “Look at her!”
“I resent that!” Erica snapped. “I am very good at my job. All
my cases have been solved in no less than two weeks after
inception. If you'll look at my credentials you'll see I'm very
thorough.”
“I'm sure you are Ms.,” his gaze slid from her face to her lips
and paused. Her heart slammed wildly in her chest as he
continued. “I prefer women one way and one way only. You
have to go.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” she announced, then added. “That
contract is iron clad.”
“Jason look, there has to be a way out of this,” Carl moved to
where Erica stood, he held out shaking hands to her. “Ms, the
person I hired is six feet, an expert in karate and his name is
Eric Mitchell.” Desperation made his voice high.
“I'm all that and then some. You must have over looked the A
at the end of my name.” She folded her arms across her chest
and waited.
“God damn it! I didn't sign that contract with you! I signed
with a man,” he stood in the middle of the room both fists
clenched.
“Mr. Burgese,” Erica said evenly. “You came to us; we didn't
go looking for you. I understand you were in too much of a
rush to stick around and meet me. The fact remains it is a
binding contract. I'll leave if Mr. O'Connor wants me to. All
you have to do is write out a check for the money promised me
for my time.”
Jason unfolded the crushed contract, he cursed roundly,
throwing a speaking look at Carl. “What the hell were you
thinking? Look at this. You promised her a king’s ransom.”
Carl’s eyes threw daggers at Erica. “I had to promise that
much. Word has gotten around that you are a high risk. I was
lucky to find someone willing to do it for that price, or so I
thought.”
Jason moved to where she stood. “There’s been a mistake,” he
explained. She stiffened and backed away, he was too close. “I’
ll see what I can do to rectify this. Why don’t I call you in the
morning? We can get this matter settled then.”
page 16
He was dismissing her. Erica took a deep breath. Again he closed the
short distance she'd put between them. He stood directly in front of
her looking down at her. She hoped her cool appearance betrayed
none of the turmoil raging within her. “As I said before, I'm not
leaving until I receive the money promised.”
Arms folded across her chest, she ordered her heart to slow down.
The heat from him turning her mind to mush. She couldn’t allow
that! She waited with baited breath to see what he would do.
He flashed her a smile that didn't reach his polished emerald eyes.
He leaned in closer to her, his voice low, almost intimate. “I'm truly
sorry for this mix-up, Erica, is it?”
She nodded, eyeing him as he turned on the charm. A vague feeling
of disappointment filled her; she'd hoped he would be better than
that. Men are so transparent.
“I know you came a long way,” he continued, his eyes caressing her
face, in a totally disarming way. “I’m sorry it was for nothing. Let
me make it up to you. How about I take you to dinner and we can
discus this?”
Removing her shades, Erica gazed directly into his green eyes. A
small smile touched her lips, she shrugged. “I’ll go to dinner with
you O'Connor,” then her face became hard, her eyes drilling into his.
“After you pay me what’s written in our contract. Or would you
prefer I take you to court?” She said smoothly, smiling, even as she
watched his smile fade away.
Long moments slipped by before his eyes started to twinkle and his
lips lifted at the corners. Then he was shaking his dark head. “Every
bodyguard I’ve had in the last year has been gunned down. The last
one is alive but barely. Do you still want the job?”
Erica's smile broadened showing deep dimples. “Yes.”
He turned to Carl. “We’ll uphold our end of the contract. Let’s see if
she can handle hers. Go get her bags and take them upstairs,” his
voice was hard, short, but his calculating emerald eyes never left her
face.
Carl's rigid form stood a few feet away from them, staring through
the dark glass of the back doors. Vivid white lines stood out around
his lips. He turned sharply, heading for the front door.
Erica wished she could feel sorry for him. Her eyes narrowed as he
stalked the room. She knew where to begin her search.
“I'll show you to your room,” Jason's deep voice caught her
attention. “Follow me.”
She followed him up the stairs and into the east wing. She frowned
as her gaze fell to two sets of small shoes sitting outside a closed
bedroom door. She wanted to ask him about them but he was
already moving further down the hall. Erica hurried to catch up with
him. She liked the way he walked, very smooth, as if he were totally
relaxed. She eyed every step as his slacks tightened on his firm
buttocks. Liquid heat surged through her, and she frowned.
“We’ll keep this bodyguard thing between us for now. If anyone
asks, you’re an old friend.” Opening the door, he stepped aside.
She walked passed him into the room, baffled at his quick
acceptance of her. She could feel the heat of his eyes on her.
“This will be your room while you're here. I hope you like it. Dinner
is at seven.” With a crisp nod, he was gone.
She glanced around the spacious room. Bright and airy, the room had
a fresh feel about it. Antique white walls displayed large gild framed
portraits. Filmy white curtains covered the glass doors leading out to
a small balcony. Period furniture gave the room a eighteenth century
French feel, the thick upholstered furniture in wine damask added to
the charm.
He was dismissing her. Erica took a deep breath. Again he closed the
short distance she'd put between them. He stood directly in front of
her looking down at her. She hoped her cool appearance betrayed
none of the turmoil raging within her. “As I said before, I'm not
leaving until I receive the money promised.”
Arms folded across her chest, she ordered her heart to slow down.
The heat from him turning her mind to mush. She couldn’t allow
that! She waited with baited breath to see what he would do.
He flashed her a smile that didn't reach his polished emerald eyes.
He leaned in closer to her, his voice low, almost intimate. “I'm truly
sorry for this mix-up, Erica, is it?”
She nodded, eyeing him as he turned on the charm. A vague feeling
of disappointment filled her; she'd hoped he would be better than
that. Men are so transparent.
“I know you came a long way,” he continued, his eyes caressing her
face, in a totally disarming way. “I’m sorry it was for nothing. Let
me make it up to you. How about I take you to dinner and we can
discus this?”
Removing her shades, Erica gazed directly into his green eyes. A
small smile touched her lips, she shrugged. “I’ll go to dinner with
you O'Connor,” then her face became hard, her eyes drilling into his.
“After you pay me what’s written in our contract. Or would you
prefer I take you to court?” She said smoothly, smiling, even as she
watched his smile fade away.
Long moments slipped by before his eyes started to twinkle and his
lips lifted at the corners. Then he was shaking his dark head. “Every
bodyguard I’ve had in the last year has been gunned down. The last
one is alive but barely. Do you still want the job?”
Erica's smile broadened showing deep dimples. “Yes.”
He turned to Carl. “We’ll uphold our end of the contract. Let’s see if
she can handle hers. Go get her bags and take them upstairs,” his
voice was hard, short, but his calculating emerald eyes never left her
face.
Carl's rigid form stood a few feet away from them, staring through
the dark glass of the back doors. Vivid white lines stood out around
his lips. He turned sharply, heading for the front door.
Erica wished she could feel sorry for him. Her eyes narrowed as he
stalked the room. She knew where to begin her search.
“I'll show you to your room,” Jason's deep voice caught her
attention. “Follow me.”
She followed him up the stairs and into the east wing. She frowned
as her gaze fell to two sets of small shoes sitting outside a closed
bedroom door. She wanted to ask him about them but he was
already moving further down the hall. Erica hurried to catch up with
him. She liked the way he walked, very smooth, as if he were totally
relaxed. She eyed every step as his slacks tightened on his firm
buttocks. Liquid heat surged through her, and she frowned.
“We’ll keep this bodyguard thing between us for now. If anyone
asks, you’re an old friend.” Opening the door, he stepped aside.
She walked passed him into the room, baffled at his quick
acceptance of her. She could feel the heat of his eyes on her.
“This will be your room while you're here. I hope you like it. Dinner
is at seven.” With a crisp nod, he was gone.
She glanced around the spacious room. Bright and airy, the room had
a fresh feel about it. Antique white walls displayed large gild framed
portraits. Filmy white curtains covered the glass doors leading out to
a small balcony. Period furniture gave the room a eighteenth century
French feel, the thick upholstered furniture in wine damask added to
the charm.
page 17
Her feet sank into thick white carpet. In the center of the room
pressed against the far wall was a king sized bed on an oak
pedestal. A step stool for the massive bed sat reassuringly near.
Four dark wood spiral posters surrounded the bed; pristine
white lace draped every surface. Erica heard the thump of her
luggage hitting the floor behind her. This is a good time to get to
work. Pulling off her gloves, she turned to Carl, her tone
professional. "I'm sorry about the mix up, but I hope we can get
pass it."
He was saying, “Don't get comfortable you won't be staying
long.” His pale lips compressed.
“I know,” she returned, “I said I'm truly sorry for the confusion
but you should know better than to make a contract about
anything without carefully examining it.” She lay what seemed
like a comforting hand on his bare arm.
He jerked away, slamming out of the room. It had been enough.
Erica turned and groped blindly for the nearest chair, blinking
hard against the blackness swirling before her eyes. She seized a
nearby chair and dropped into it. Her fingers digging into the
thick cushion to steady her as the world tilted. She had known
Carl was a very angry person from their first meeting, but this,
this obsessed sickness he harbored for Jason made her stomach
launched, it turned once, then twice. From his thoughts she
knew many things but most important, was he wasn't trying to
kill his boss. Hiring her had been deliberate. She'd better stay as
far away from him as she could, at least until she finished this
case.
Her feet sank into thick white carpet. In the center of the room
pressed against the far wall was a king sized bed on an oak
pedestal. A step stool for the massive bed sat reassuringly near.
Four dark wood spiral posters surrounded the bed; pristine
white lace draped every surface. Erica heard the thump of her
luggage hitting the floor behind her. This is a good time to get to
work. Pulling off her gloves, she turned to Carl, her tone
professional. "I'm sorry about the mix up, but I hope we can get
pass it."
He was saying, “Don't get comfortable you won't be staying
long.” His pale lips compressed.
“I know,” she returned, “I said I'm truly sorry for the confusion
but you should know better than to make a contract about
anything without carefully examining it.” She lay what seemed
like a comforting hand on his bare arm.
He jerked away, slamming out of the room. It had been enough.
Erica turned and groped blindly for the nearest chair, blinking
hard against the blackness swirling before her eyes. She seized a
nearby chair and dropped into it. Her fingers digging into the
thick cushion to steady her as the world tilted. She had known
Carl was a very angry person from their first meeting, but this,
this obsessed sickness he harbored for Jason made her stomach
launched, it turned once, then twice. From his thoughts she
knew many things but most important, was he wasn't trying to
kill his boss. Hiring her had been deliberate. She'd better stay as
far away from him as she could, at least until she finished this
case.
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