Under His Protection (20 page)

* * * *

The place was small, just as Suzanne had
described, with a giant pine tree that took over the entire front
yard and blocked the door and windows. An unfamiliar older model
sedan sat in the gravel driveway and Blake parked behind it,
wondering who it belonged to.

Was someone at Suzanne’s house? God, could
it be the guy she was referring to?

She cut the engine and sat, contemplating
what she should do. Call first and make sure Suzanne was all right?
Or just walk in and bust up whatever kind of conflict might be
happening inside?

Deciding the latter tactic, Blake climbed
out of the car and ran toward the front door, whipping the hood of
her coat over her head. The rain still fell steadily, the air so
bitterly cold, it stole her breath. She shuffled up the slippery
steps, rapidly knocking on the front door.

Suzanne opened it, her face a mask of
extreme exhaustion, her skin pale, her eyes droopy. She looked so
terrible, Blake had to stifle the gasp that wanted to spill.

“Suzanne.” She couldn’t come up with
anything else to say. Her friend appeared ill, her normally olive
skin had a greenish tint to it and her dark eyes which usually
flashed with vitality looked…dead.

“Come in.” Suzanne opened the door wider and
Blake walked inside, a blast of chilled air greeting her. She
shivered, reluctant to take her coat off though she at least pushed
back the rain spattered hood.

The living area was dark, the furniture
sparse and old, though it appeared Suzanne at least decorated as
well as she could, considering what she worked with.

“It’s kind of—brisk in here.” Blake rubbed
her hands together, wishing she’d worn gloves.

Suzanne shrugged. “I try not to run the heat
too much. It doesn’t work that well anyway. Besides, I can’t afford
it.”

Blake’s heart panged. She had no clue what
it was like, unable to pay the bills, having to make
sacrifices.

It made her feel guilty.

“Too bad you don’t have a fireplace.” Blake
glanced about the room, then turned to smile at Suzanne. “You could
light a fire. That would at least keep this room warm and it’s
cheaper than running the heat.”

“Yeah.” Suzanne didn’t seem to be paying
much attention to the conversation. She kept looking down the short
hallway that must’ve led to the bedrooms, her gaze skittering to it
again and again.

Blake struggled to find something to say.
After all, it was Suzanne who begged her to come here. Why wasn’t
she talking? “Is someone here? There’s a strange car parked in the
driveway.”

“Listen.” Suzanne took a step toward her, so
close she could speak directly in her ear. She lowered her voice.
“I need to talk to you, Blake. Quickly, before he comes back out.
Is your shadow here?”

Blake wrinkled her brows. Anxiety rolled off
Suzanne in giant waves, she could practically smell her friend’s
fear and worry. “My shadow?”

“You know, your Secret Service agent, the
guy who’s always watching over you.” Suzanne glanced toward the
hallway yet again. “We need him to come inside.
Now.
”

“But he didn’t come with me. You said you
needed to talk so I figured you’d want some privacy.” Panic surged
through Blake and her heart started to trip over itself. This
wasn’t good. Whatever was happening, Suzanne was clearly close to
losing it.

“He didn’t come? He didn’t follow you?
Shit!” Suzanne grabbed Blake’s arm so tight it hurt, even through
the thick layers of her sweater and coat. “You need to get out of
here. Get out and go get your agent man.
Hurry.
”

Blake shook off Suzanne’s death grip and
headed toward the front door, her mind racing. The one time she
didn’t tell Mason she left and now she was in some sort of perilous
situation?

Mason was going to kill her. Especially
after last night’s discussion and the way he’d warned her off
Suzanne. He’d been right. Something was wrong with her. And Blake
was almost too scared to find out what.

“Maybe you should call the police too. Yeah,
call them. Without him here, I don’t know what we’re going to
do.”

“I have my phone.” Blake dug into her too
large purse, searching for her cell yet unable to find it. It
always sunk straight to the bottom of her bag and she blew out a
frustrated breath. “I’ll call Mason.”

“You need to leave. Call him but get out of
the house.
Hurry.
”

They both stood in front of the door, Blake
pawing through all the crap she carried in her purse. Damn it, why
didn’t she use the little side pocket made specifically for her
phone?

“You’re not calling anyone.”

The voice was deep, angry and unfamiliar.
Blake stilled, her back to the man who just spoke and Suzanne
slumped beside her, shooting Blake a pleading look.

“Hey, ah, Rich. Blake showed up.” Suzanne
smiled and nodded toward Blake. “I’m so excited you two get to
meet.”

Suzanne didn’t sound particularly excited.
More like petrified.

“Blake, meet Rich.” Suzanne nudged Blake in
the side with her elbow and she turned to see a very skinny,
scraggly looking man standing before her, clad in dirty jeans and a
long-sleeved, faded black T-shirt.

He wiped his hand on the side of his jeans
before he went toward her, the same hand extended for her to shake.
The stench of alcohol overpowered her nostrils and Blake tried not
to flinch as she shook his hand.

His grip was too tight and his smile too
wide as he pumped her hand. “I’m Amber’s husband. It’s nice to meet
you.”

“Amber?” She snatched her hand away from his
grip, confusion swamping her. Who was Amber?

“Amber, Suzanne, whatever you want to call
her.” Rich shook his head and went to grab a can of beer from an
open ice chest that sat on the floor. He cracked it open, the sound
violently loud in the too quiet room. “So you’re the vice
president’s daughter, huh? What’s that like?”

Blake stiffened, shooting a glance in
Suzanne’s—Amber’s?—direction. Her friend wouldn’t so much as look
at her. She was married? And she told her husband about Blake?

Odd. And discomforting since Suzanne never
mentioned she even had a husband.

“Honestly, it comes with both its perks and
disadvantages,” Blake said slowly, not wanting to reveal any
more.

The man laughed uproariously, as if she’d
told a funny joke. “I bet it comes with perks only, sweetheart.
Like a lot of money.”

Blake was silent as she watched Rich pace
back and forth. He glared at the two women who still stood by the
door, and he waved his hand in the general direction of the
couch.

“Sit down. Now. Standing next to the door
like that makes me nervous. Like you’re going to escape.” He patted
his backside. “If you’re smart, you won’t try. I got something
that’ll nip it in the bud real quick.”

Blake followed Suzanne over to the couch
where they both sat. Did he have a gun stashed in his jeans? Panic
filled her. What the hell was she going to do?

She clutched her purse close to her side,
her coat bulked all around her when she sat, making her
uncomfortable. Fear kept her immobilized, regret swamping her. Why
hadn’t she told Mason she was leaving? She should’ve brought him
with her. He would’ve taken care of everything.

Too late for regrets now.

“You got a lot of money, Miss Blake?” Rich
leered at her, the look in his eyes wild, crazy. “Because I need a
lot of money. We both need a lot of money.”

He nodded toward Suzanne who wouldn’t even
look her way.

Dread trickled icy cold down Blake’s spine,
accompanied by a healthy dose of disappointment. Her so-called
friend had used her, brought her here to talk with her slimy
husband so the both of them could…what? Hold her ransom and get
some money out of it? Demand she write them a big, fat check?

She had some money that she had easy access
to, but the bulk of her trust was tied up in legalities.
Withdrawing a large sum of cash would take days, maybe even weeks,
and would involve a couple of lawyers and lots of signatures.

“I’m not a bank,” she said coolly, hoping
that keeping her wits about her would get her out of this. “You
just can’t come to me and expect a large withdrawal.”

“You’re gonna be our bank today,” the man
said with certain finality. “And we’re definitely in line for one
of those large withdrawals. After what my wife did to me, well, I
need to look for a new fortune. And once she told me about you, I
knew you were it. The opportunity I’ve been searching for.”

“Rich...” Suzanne started but he wouldn’t
hear it.

“Shut up!” The force of his yell made both
women flinch. “We already discussed this! You owe me, Amber. After
you double-crossed me, I deserve this. I deserve every last dime I
can squeeze out of this girl.”

“She has nothing to do with this or with us.
Let her go. You’re angry at me, no one else but me,” Suzanne
pleaded.

“You’re damn right I’m angry at you. I’ll
deal with you later, you can count on it. But right now, I need
some quick cash to get the hell out of here. And don’t forget, I’m
taking you with me.” Rich grinned, then chugged almost half of his
beer.

“I don’t have access to a large amount of
money,” Blake began. “I can get you a few hundred dollars, maybe
even a thousand but that’s it.”

“Bullshit! I know you’re worth more than
that. And I want more.” He shook his head and pitched the beer can
so that it slammed against the wall. The remaining beer splashed
out, filling the room with its overwhelming scent. “I want a lot
more.”

Blake shot a glance in Suzanne’s direction
and the look in her friend’s eyes was one of apology. Shaking her
head, she looked away, didn’t want to see it.

Didn’t really want to believe it.

“I can give you a thousand dollars.” Blake
couldn’t even believe she was making this offer. “Take it or leave
it.”

Rich bent down, shoved his face directly in
Blake’s. She recoiled, trying to get away but he followed, crowding
her, his beer-tinged breath blowing in her face, his eyes even
wilder close up. She pushed her back as far as it could go into the
couch cushions, tried to control the trembling that wanted to take
over her body but it was no use.

“I’m leaving it,” he whispered, his gaze
sweeping down her body and giving her the creeps, even though she
was covered in multiple layers. It was as if his eyes could burn
right through her clothes. “If I have to hold your pretty little
ass hostage and demand a ransom from daddy himself, hell from the
goddamn president, from the goddamn FBI, whatever. I’m getting
more. You’re worth a lot to me, sweetheart. The missus and I have
been doing the proper research. A kidnapping right before the
election will send everyone scrambling to give us what we
want.”

Hold her hostage? Demand a ransom? This was
far more serious than she first thought. What might happen if they
took her hostage? Would her parents answer his demands? Would this
man take the money and hurt her regardless?

“Now what’ll it be? Give me an answer. You
want to take this the easy way or the hard way?” Rich stood,
glaring down at her with the most hateful expression she’d ever
seen. He didn’t even know her, yet he looked at her as if he
despised the very air she breathed.

“The easy way,” she said, lifting her chin.
She would not let this man intimidate her. He might have the upper
hand, but she refused to let him see how much he unnerved her.

She’d get out of this. She had to. Maybe
Mason had woken up. Maybe he was already looking for her. He could
be on his way over here right now.

God. She could only hope.

Chapter Fourteen

Mason climbed out of bed, surprised he’d
slept in so late, especially considering everything he needed to do
this morning. Noticing it was nearly eleven, he automatically
reached for Blake, disappointed when he found her side of the bed
empty. The sheets long gone cold, though her scent still lingered.
It surprised him she hadn’t rustled him from sleep to make her
breakfast, since it had become their daily ritual.

Checking his phone, he saw that Byron had
called—twice. He listened to his voicemails, heard the
discouragement in his boss’ voice over the fact they were searching
but so far, no details could be found on a Suzanne Johnson.

They had the world’s best databanks at their
fingertips and they couldn’t find jack shit about a certain woman.
It made absolutely no sense.

Frustrated, he headed toward the bathroom.
Where was Blake? In her studio? He hoped so. He’d give Byron a
call, go over what they’d each discovered—which was not much of
anything—and then he’d start preparing a late breakfast. Maybe the
smells from his cooking could entice her into the kitchen. He
wanted to keep her close today, especially after everything they
shared last night.

He felt closer to her. Not just because of
the sex, though she’d been insatiable last night. Just when he
thought he was completely spent, she’d attack him again. And he’d
risen to the occasion every single time. Hell, he thought he was an
old man at thirty-two, but get Blake naked in front of him and he
reverted to an eighteen-year-old kid rarin’ to go.

Yeah, the sex was fantastic. But it was the
other stuff that made him feel closer to Blake. The talking, the
sharing of such intimate, personal details, how much she trusted
him and how protective he felt about her, it went beyond work.

Well beyond.

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he
sobered, scrubbed a hand down his face, along his jaw. He looked
like hell. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, he needed a
serious haircut and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a
suit.

A few weeks ago, he’d kept himself groomed
impeccably. As a Secret Service agent, he had an image to maintain.
Secretly, he’d always wanted to look good for Blake.