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Authors: Amber A. Bardan

For His Protection (7 page)

BOOK: For His Protection
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Ty spoke on the phone but his gaze trailed her. Oh hell,
this job was going to be unbearable. Really unbearable. Somehow the
professionalism she’d cultivated with icy excellence turned to crap around him.
She’d be distracted, useless and unable to pay attention. Because of him. Him
and his flirting, watching, thinking about her, thinking about her god-damn
pussy—shit…now why’d she have to go remember that?

“My PA Wendy is on her way in,” Ty said, hanging up the
phone and sitting in the chair that was probably still warm from her ass. “She
can answer any questions you have. In fact it wouldn’t hurt to take a few notes
from her.”

Brooke flashed him a look from the corner of her eyes and
made a completely noncommittal sound. Take notes from his PA? His PA who by his
own admission would be wearing man-pleasing heels and panty-flashing skirts, no
doubt…she probably spent most days dropping stuff around his office just so she
could bend over for him like a good little assistant. Because honestly what
woman would be immune to Ty? He had special pheromones or some crap like that.

She glanced at his desk then looked away.

No note taking
.

A knock sounded on the door. Brooke spun toward the sound,
her vertebrae straightening. A woman—well-groomed and middle-aged—stepped in,
balancing files in one arm. Clearly not his PA. She looked like a cutout from
Business
Woman’s Daily
not a bang-the-secretary dream sequence.

Ty stood. “Brooke, this is my PA, Wendy.”

The woman smiled, her eyes scrunching as she approached with
her hand extended. Brooke ran her gaze over the woman from her black and white
heels and sleek city dress to the artful bun at the back of her head. Brooke
took Wendy’s hand.
So maybe my bitchy little mind jumped to conclusions—Ty’s
fault mostly.
With his reputation, the way he oozed sex, one had to assume
he’d surround himself with groupies.

“Nice to meet you.” Brooke stepped back and ran her fingers
over the back of her go-to high ponytail.

“Thank you, Wendy, for being so accommodating with all of
this,” Ty said.

“Certainly, Mr. Black.” Wendy took the files to his desk.

Brooke’s jacket pocket vibrated. She pulled out her phone
and glanced at the screen.

Still on for bridesmaid dress shopping tomorrow? XOXO

Brooke expelled a long breath and turned to face the wall.
Crap, bridesmaid dress shopping… How had it slipped her mind? The one friend she’d
made in the five and a half years since she’d extracted herself from anything
and everything that might even remotely resemble a relationship and it turned
out she had completely forgotten how to be a decent friend. She wouldn’t blame
Charlize if she cut her out of the bridal party. It was bad enough at the
bridal shower when her social skills with other bridesmaids consisted of a
couple of nods and one-syllable sentences.

Exactly why she didn’t do this people crap. Questions like, “How
come you don’t have a boyfriend?” made her want to put her head through
glass—or better yet give a little truth with a “Sorry, honey, if I tell you,
you’ll spend your life sleeping with a nightlight”. Both would be a
buzz-kill—and not so socially acceptable.

So many truths didn’t seem to be acceptable.

Charlize made friendship easier. None of that small talk
rubbish. They could go for jogs, play cards or have a coffee without anyone
gushing about a guy.

“Is everything all right?”

Brooke turned around. The door clicked shut. Ty stood behind
her and they were once again alone.

“Yes fine. I’d forgotten I had plans tomorrow afternoon that
I need to cancel.”

“If you need to take time off for something, I’ll survive,”
he said and then his expression hardened. “Unless it’s a date. If it’s a date,
then I can’t spare you.”

She repressed a smile. Letting him think she was seeing
someone might work on some men but she had a feeling it would only make Ty more
determined. “No, it’s girl stuff. I’ll reschedule for when we have a better idea
what you’re going to need from me.”

“I think we both know what I need from you, Brooke.”

He looked at her in a way that made her head spin.

A shallow sexual proposition would be so easy to refuse.
Even relationships were off limits. But Ty looked at her in a way that offered
something more. He looked at her in a way that made avoidance impossible
because whatever this was, they were already halfway there.

Brooke slid her phone back into her pocket, her stomach
turning like a cement mixer, then she stepped around him. Ty let out a soft
breath as she passed.

She approached one of the tables pushed up against the wall
and ran her fingers along the edge of a model. A familiar tower like the one
they stood in rose from between smaller buildings. The one in the model
appeared slightly shorter, a little more angular. She brushed her finger over
the name plaque,
Blue Trident.


And there it is—the source of all my strife.” Ty
spoke from behind her.

The hair on her arms prickled. She ran her gaze over the scene,
struck by an identifiable familiarity. Maybe because the building looked so
similar to Black Trident?

“Where is this?”

Ty leaned over her and tapped his finger on a plaque with
the address. Cold swamped her, chilling her skin and numbing her fingertips.

“Strife—because you’re taking over a community space…”

She clutched the edge of the table as though a hook had
anchored in her belly and pulled her off balance. How had she not recognized it
immediately? Five years ago she’d attended the space soon to be replaced by
that domineering building almost daily. The humble community center had saved
her—kept her sane.

She turned, leaning against the table. “How could you?”

“You know this place?” Ty said, frowning.

“Is this how you make your money, Ty? Is this how you get to
be important and powerful?” She stepped closer and pushed her finger into his
chest. The muscle underneath her fingertip contracted but he didn’t step back
like a sane person should.

“It’s just business, Brooke.” Ty caught her finger in his
hand.

She jerked away. “Don’t you even care that the people who
work in that crappy little community center are volunteers who help people and
expect nothing in return?” Her jaw worked. “Do you even know the work they do?
Helping adults learn to read, support groups for addicts, counseling for—” Her
breath caught and she stopped herself. “They can't afford to go anywhere else.”

Ty stepped closer. “I’m sorry, how could I have known this
place means something to you?” His expression firmed. “But the building is
falling apart, about to be condemned in fact. Even if I leave it alone, they
wouldn’t be able to stay.”

She notched her chin. “Then why not do something worthwhile
and fix it?”

“Because that’s not how you run a business, Brooke. At least
not if you value a profit.”

Brooke slid out from between Ty and the table. “Well I hope
your fat profit reports can keep you warm.”

“It’s my job. You don’t get to be a CEO at twenty-five, rich
parents or not, if you can't make tough decisions.”

Brooke let out a hollow laugh. If it had been any other
building, any other place, maybe she’d have been able to hold on to her
control. Maybe she’d have been able to understand. “That’s it then? You’re just
doing the right thing for the sake of your company?” She stepped toward him,
reached out and clutched his tie. “Does it impress women?
Playboy
. All
the money you make?” She tugged the tie, dragging him down until she could look
into his flecked irises. “Does it make them swoon? Do they even care who you
are, what you’ve done to sit here at the pinnacle of your giant tower?”

Ty gazed back at her. Damn him, his eyes weren’t cold and
hard and dead like they should be. They were warm and full of emotion he didn’t
seem to have any trouble spewing.

“I’ve never cared what impresses women because I know what
it’s like to have one stare down at me, looking at me as if I’m the most
important man on the planet, making me want to live even though she has no
fucking clue who I am or what I have.”

Her chest squeezed, breaking through the numbness. Their
breath mingled, sounded louder than it should in the closed office space. Her
fingers shook and she dropped his tie. “I pity you if this is what you call
success.” She lowered her gaze to where his tie hung over his jacket buttons.
“No job we have in this life, Ty, is ever more important than being human.” Her
throat ached as she spoke.

“And how human are you?” Ty whispered, not moving away. “You
don’t think I see it? The way you’ve shut yourself down—for whatever reason—as
if a warm emotion might kill you.”

His words hit her like tiny shards of glass. They poked
through her skin, penetrating and stinging.

“How human is that? Are you even alive, Brooke?”

Her eyes burned, pressure building behind them as though
she’d held her breath too long—because they
couldn’t
be tears.

Brooke stepped away from him. “I think it’s time I speak to
security, find out if I really need to be here.” She stumbled to the exit,
grabbed the handle and slipped out before she could fall down.

Chapter Seven

 

Ty ran a hand over his face. What the fuck just happened?
Brooke took one look at the building and acted as if he’d just taken a scalpel
to her chest. Her words rang in his ears.
Playboy.
Implying he was
shallow, superficial, soulless. It hurt. Fucking hurt. Because maybe it was
true. He’d lived the playboy existence for the last five years. Screwing his
way through a sea of faceless women. Because none—none—could ever compete with
the woman in his head. He’d spent years trying to burn her out, but the harder
he fought the clearer her image became.

Now he had her in the flesh, right here in his life and
completely damn untouchable. She’d changed but so had he. He’d had to grow
up—harden up—just as she had.

He studied the model building that now seemed to be making
and breaking his life. Making because it had brought her here, breaking because
now it pushed her away. It would be the second building he’d built on his own
since his father handed him the reins. He had a job to do. That’s what all
these bleeding hearts didn’t understand. He had responsibilities—obligations.

Ty walked to his desk and opened a file, sliding out a
photograph of the building site. The community center in the picture with its
broken windows, peeling paint and broken steps had no chance of surviving.
None
.
So why was he the bad guy? It’s not as if he
wanted
to tear it down.

The look on Brooke’s face flashed through his mind. As much
as she tried to act as if she were made of ice, her complexion couldn’t lie.
Milky fairness that flushed from her cheeks to her chest with the slightest
change. And she’d gone as red as fire.

Everything, the money, the office, the building, the power
didn’t mean anything. Profits, they were what took care of his family. His
parents, his gorgeous sister and her family. No matter what Brooke implied—they
weren’t shallow.

He glanced back at the photograph.

None of them were
.

Ty walked across the room and opened the drawing of building
plans then laid it down on the table. His mind ticked as he scanned the plans
floor by floor.

Time to show Brooke exactly who they really were.

* * * * *

Brooke made it halfway down the hall to the lift before
realizing she had neither a security pass nor any idea where she was going. She
leaned against the wall, taking three long, slow breaths.

“Brooke?”

She glanced up and leaped away from the wall. Wendy stood in
the hallway, carrying two cups of coffee. She held one out to Brooke.

“Mr. Black said cappuccino no sugar?”

Brooke took the coffee. The paper cup warmed her palm.

“Thank you.”

She hadn’t asked for a coffee but Ty remembered what she
liked and how she liked it—again. She clutched the cup in both hands, trying to
calm racing thoughts. “Wendy, I need to get to security but I don’t have a pass
and I’m not sure where I’m going.”

Wendy nodded and pulled a pass from her pocket. “Here’s
mine. Security is in the basement. Ken will be able to give you your own pass.”

“Thank you.” Brooke smiled then moved to the elevator and
pressed the button.

Wendy nodded and continued down the hall toward Ty’s office.

Damn, Ty.

She cleared her throat but it did nothing for the
constricted feeling about to choke the life out of her. New rule—focus on the
job. Okay so maybe that was already the rule but it seemed to need refocusing.
Get to the bottom of security deficits then get the hell out. Don’t think about
Ty, don’t think about him tearing down the best free community center in the
city, don’t think about his stupid cocky smile…just don’t think about Ty.

The elevator dinged and she went inside, swiped the card
then pressed the button for the basement. She pulled out her phone and thumbed
a response to Charlize, rescheduling for later in the week. Because no way
would she be here more than a few days. The doors opened to a windowless,
exposed-block room. Brooke suppressed a shudder.
Freaking underground.
She
stepped out and walked to the door at the other end. The entry had a numbered
keypad so she pressed the bell.

A bald, round-bellied, middle-aged man with a security badge
pinned to his chest pulled open the door.

“Hi, I’m Brooke from Crowe Security.”

The man adjusted his belt buckle, scanning her from forehead
to black heels, saying nothing. Brooke halted the roll of her eyes back into
her head. As if this didn’t happen every damn job. His gaze came back to hers
and his face went a mottled crimson.
Ah, one of those type.
Just what
she needed. A resistant, resentful security team.

He moved back and held open the door. She stepped past him
into the dim security room. Blue light emanated from a wall of screens
displaying footage of Black Trident. The door snapped closed and she glanced
around. Her heart dipped.

Dark.

Closed in.

Trapped.

She sucked in a breath and pulled herself straight.

“Look, lady, I don’t know why they called in the big guns
but we have things well under control.”

She glanced at his name tag.
Ken.
Great, she’d hoped
this was not the head of security. “It’s okay, Ken. I’m not here to take any
jobs.”

Lie
.

Well, not a complete lie. She had no authority to take
anyone’s job. But if she felt for one moment that this building’s security was
not in the most capable hands, she’d see that rectified immediately.

“I’m here because there have been threats to Mr. Black's
safety.”

Ken’s almost lash-less eyes widened. She sighed. Good to see
Ty’s security team had been kept appraised.

“So we need to work together to make sure nothing can happen
to your boss.”

Ken nodded. “Well of course.”

The phone buzzed and Ken turned to the bench and picked up
the receiver. Brooke took a sip of her coffee and scanned the room. Flat
monitors, computers and every high-tech, expensive-looking thing you’d expect
to see in a building such as this. Except—except the empty cups lining the
bench in front of security screens, open, half-eaten box of donuts, scatterings
of magazines.

“Yeah, she’s here now,” Ken said into the telephone,
glancing up at Brooke.

Her muscles stiffened and she gulped her hot coffee. Ty
checking up on her?

Ken set down the handset. “Saul is on his way down. He’d
like to speak to you.”

Brooke nodded. Saul Morgan, president. Maybe he’d shed some
light on the reality of the situation. “Maybe you can give me an overview of
your systems while we wait?”

Ken showed her through the ins and outs of the system, from
computer security to electronic door controls and physical security.

“As you can see everything is state of the art, best on the
market.”

Brooke nodded. Sure was. State of the art technology. The
manpower on the other hand? Seriously mediocre. Other than Ken, the Black
Trident employed all of four other security guards, all alternating shifts with
only two or three on the ground at any one time.

The one thing she’d learned from Connor was that a hundred
cameras could never replace a single keen pair of eyes.

“And what about staff? How do you cope with the demands of
protecting such a large building?”

Ken smirked. “Sweetheart, this is a premier building in the
best part of the city. Our systems are faultless. Me and my men can handle walking
out the odd fired staff member.”

Brooke touched her temple with two fingers. God save her
from complacent security such as this. The one thing you could never be on this
kind of job—complacent. There wasn’t a person who worked for Crowe who wasn’t always
alert and prepared for anything.

The door beeped and a man stepped in. Fine suit, graying hair,
general stride of a man of authority.

Brooke straightened and approached him. “Saul, Brooke Yates
from Crowe Security.”

Saul extended his hand and smiled. She looked at the hand a
moment before taking it. He held her fingers a moment too long, his gaze
searching. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Brooke.”

Brooke dropped his hand. So much for thinking she’d get
straight answers from Saul. Everything about the way he looked and spoke to her
told her he knew exactly who she was—and it wasn’t a bodyguard.

Saul glanced past her. “Ken, would you please set up full
security access for Brooke immediately?”

Ken nodded and moved to a computer in the corner, leaving
them in relative privacy. Saul slid his hands into his pockets and looked at
her.

“All right, Saul, I think we both know why Ty hired me.”
Brooke lowered her voice. “I’m here and I will do my job. But it’s time to
level with me.”

Saul’s expression didn’t shift. “Of course, that’s why I’m
here. Whatever you need to know.” He held out his palm, motioning her to take a
seat at a small table.

Brooke smoothed the back of her dress and lowered herself
into a chair. She glanced up at the screens, pausing mid-squat. “What’s going
on there?” She strode to the row of screens, using the mouse and keyboard to
pull the image of the ground floor foyer onto the large central screen. Ken and
Saul walked up behind her.

“What?” Ken asked.

Brooke pointed at the curved reception counter. “There.”

A group of seven people gathered at the desk.

“They’re not doing anything wrong,” Ken said.

Brooke didn’t take her eyes off the screen. One man shifted
behind the rest, hopping his weight from one foot to the next. Another glanced
around, scoping out the foyer. These people didn’t have business here. A least
not
good
business. Not a snobbish observation based on the fact these
people wore sweatpants, shorts and T-shirts instead of designer suits like
everyone else in the building. Just knowledge born of instinct.

“Not yet.” She groped for the phone and picked up the
receiver. “What’s Ty’s extension?”

Saul punched it in and Brooke listened to each slow buzz
until the sound clicked.

“Ty,” She rushed, not waiting for a greeting.

“Mr. Black is not available at the moment. May I take a
message?” Wendy answered.

“Where is he, Wendy? This is Brooke.”

“Oh, Brooke. He just left to respond to something at ground
reception.”

“Of course he has,” she whispered. “Thanks, Wendy.”

She hung up the phone and turned to Ken. “Security pass. Now.”

“It’s not ready,” he said.

Brooke reached out and plucked out the pass peeking from his
shirt pocket, shooting him a look that could have slain him dead. “Then use
that radio of yours and tell your security to attend the reception counter and
stand by for me.”

Ken unclipped the radio from his belt but Brooke didn’t wait
for him, just ran to the door and made for the elevator. Saul trailed behind
her, slipping through the elevator just before the doors shut.

Brooke jabbed the ground floor button three times. “I’m
going to kill him myself.”

“Ty? For going downstairs in his own building?”

“No,” she said. “For hiring me as his bodyguard under false
fucking pretenses then not notifying me so I could actually do my damn job and
escort him.”

The doors opened on ground floor before Saul could respond.
She scanned the foyer. Ty stepped out of the door behind reception and
approached the group. Voices rose like a chorus, bouncing and amplifying off
the extensive marble tiles. Brooke sprinted across the room. A security guard
advanced from the opposite direction. Ty crossed the safety of the desk,
approaching one of the men heading the group. Brooke slowed her steps as she
reached them but every one of her nerves stretched tight. She circled them
slowly, watching Ty take an envelope from one of the men.

The others yelled over each other, blending their words into
a meaningless drone. She reached Ty’s side and a fraction of the tension
snapping through her ebbed. The security guard reached the back of the group
and placed a meaty palm on the shoulder of the twitching man.

In the space of a heartbeat Brooke grabbed Ty’s biceps,
yanked him back and positioned herself in front of him, her knees bending, her
forearms rising.

The man hollered.

Chaos erupted, the group turned on the security guard.
Hurled curses at him. Brooke became a snake—jaw open, fangs pointed and ready
to strike. Her senses sharpened, taking in every blur of movement, searching
out any perceivable threat.

Ken jogged toward the security guard, gasping for breath.

Brooke shoved Ty toward the reception desk.

He brushed off her pushing hands. “I can handle this,
Brooke.”

All her venomous, adrenaline-spiked energy turned to him.
“You don’t need me, is that what you’re saying? Because if I can’t do my job
and protect you, I walk.” She pulled her hands up. “Out that fucking door right
now.”

His teeth clamped shut and he stared at her. “Fine, I
wouldn’t want to stop you from doing your job.”

She grabbed his elbow and directed him around the desk,
instructing the reception attendant to push the police-call button. She took Ty
straight through the secure door behind reception then to the elevator.

The elevator doors closed behind them. Brooke grabbed the
lapels of Ty’s jacket and slammed him against the wall. His big back thudded
against the lift.

“Don’t ever pull that crap with me again,” she said.

Ty’s jawline pulsed then his hands closed over her wrists.
He yanked, breaking her grip on his jacket and spinning them. Then it was her
back bouncing off the cool steel wall. She reacted instantly, leveraging the
grip on her wrists to bring her knees up fast between them. Her shins pressed
against his abdomen but he continued in, sandwiching her between his towering
body and the lift. She stared at him, her heart thumping and squeezing as
though squeezed by a fist. The angles of his face tightened, veins rose to the
surface of his neck and he breathed heavily against her.

BOOK: For His Protection
5.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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