[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer (2 page)

His Army training was no doubt what she’d
picked up on when she’d thought he looked dangerous. “How many ways can you kill
a man?” she asked, admitting that it gave her a tingle to think he was a
trained soldier.

“How many do I need?”

She grinned. He had a great poker face, and
it was difficult to tell what he was thinking, but as she continued to study
him, the corner of his mouth curved up.

“Do I meet with your approval?” he asked.

“You’re a puzzle,” she admitted, trying not
to think about how low and sultry his voice was.

“A puzzle?” he queried.

“Yes. A soldier with a ninety words per
minute typing speed?”

“When I left school, I trained as a
journalist and photographer.”

“Ah.” That made more sense. “What did you
do then?”

“I was hired by a national TV news program
as a trainee war correspondent. I shadowed an older guy and went with him to
Egypt, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Spent a lot of time around Army guys and loved it
so much I signed up.”

“So what happened? Why did you leave? I’m
guessing because you were wounded—in the leg, yes?” She’d detected a slight
limp when he’d walked in.

His eyes met hers for a moment. Hesitant,
wary, guarded. He’d meant to keep that a secret, but now she’d asked him, he
didn’t have a choice unless he intended to lie outright. He didn’t like that
she was so observant, and had guessed things he’d wanted to keep to himself.

He shifted in the seat. On the surface, it
looked as if he was making himself more comfortable, but she sensed unease in
his posture. He didn’t like talking about it. She waited for him to change the
subject, but instead he said, “I was out on a scouting mission. We stumbled
across a hidden base and they opened fire on us. I took a bullet in the thigh,
crawled off into a hole somewhere, and passed out. They didn’t find me for
three days, and by then it was infected. They operated, and it healed, but it’s
not good enough for active duty.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want an Army desk job.
Didn’t seem much point in staying in.”

“Is it still painful?”

“Sometimes.”

In the other office, she could hear Neve
answering the phone, the whirr of the photocopier, the clang of a spoon in a
cup as someone—probably Bridget—made a coffee. Outside the office, she heard the
sound of traffic in the busy streets, and somewhere in the far distance the
whine of a police car. Inside, though, the comforting tick of the clock on the
wall filled the room.

Gene sat patiently, his gaze fixed on hers,
calm, a tad challenging. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but she
couldn’t work out what it was.

Callie uncrossed her legs and re-crossed
them. His gaze stayed on her face, which she found interesting—no sexy slide
down her body, no suggestive looks or comments. Either he didn’t fancy her, or
he was determined not to bring sex into the office, for whatever reason. Of
course, he could be married, or at least have a partner, in which case kudos to
him for not straying.

Suddenly, it became quintessentially
important that she discover if he was single.

She shook her head a little, hoping it
would dislodge the issue from her brain. His professionalism ranked him high on
her list. However, working with him would be a nightmare, surely, whether he
was married or not. Wasn’t it weird that a once-soldier wanted to be a PA? Or
was she being sexist? The thought made her uncomfortable, as she was a great
advocate of women being able to do any job they chose. And if she believed in
equality, it had to work both ways.

She frowned. “So instead of taking an Army
desk job, you decided to go into secretarial work? What’s the difference?”

He shrugged again. “Freedom. I’d had enough
of being told how to live my life.”

“Why not go back into journalism?”

“I’ve seen enough of the world, and I’m not
getting any younger. I just want to settle down.”

“How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty-two on Valentine’s Day.”
His eyes dared her to find that funny.

She bit her lip. “Married?”

“No.”

“Living with anyone?”
Oops
. That
wasn’t relevant to the job, but it had slipped out.

“No.”

“Children?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?” She was taunting him now,
wondering how far she could push him.

His gaze remained steady. “No.”

“You don’t like talking about yourself,”
she observed, curious about this guy, whose impassive expression held a
multitude of secrets, she was sure.

“I’ve just told you more about my injury
than I’ve told anyone in a long time.” He looked slightly puzzled at that.

Callie studied him, intrigued. He
fascinated her. But that didn’t mean him being her PA would work. She had to
think of her customers, the majority of whom were women. Okay, most of them
would probably think it fun to chat to a male PA, but she had to bear in mind
that it might make some of them feel awkward. And what about him?

“You know what business I run here, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I ask because working with lingerie all
day can make some men twitchy. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, ma’am.” He remained straight-faced. It
didn’t surprise her. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine this man getting flustered
over lacy underwear. He looked like the kind of guy who could open a bra catch with
one flick of his fingers.

His cool gaze egged her on. “You think you
can remain professional when dealing with customers enquiring about extra-large
cup sizes? Or when they ask you to describe the different styles of panties we
supply?”

He brushed at a speck of dust on his
trousers. “Yes, ma’am.” He met her gaze, and then finally gave in to a smile, showing
her why he had all those laughter lines at the edges of his eyes, and baring a
row of neat white teeth. “And I’m happy to work late to catch up on any
knowledge I may be missing.”

Ah, so there was a man beneath the soldier,
then. Wickedly, she raised her eyebrows as if to say,
Oh, really?
He
dropped his gaze back to his hands, pursing his lips as if cursing himself for
his comment. He’d tried so hard to be professional, and he’d only caved when
she’d provoked him. She couldn’t blame him for that.

She gave a short, silent laugh. If he could
do the job—and it appeared he had the necessary skills to do so, more than any
of the other applicants, anyway—then there wasn’t a relevant reason why she
shouldn’t hire him.

He looked back up after he’d composed
himself. “Please give me a chance,” he said. “I swear I’ll be professional. We’ll
work together really well. I’ll look after you.”

She blinked. What a strange thing to say.
It made her feel slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t need looking after.”

“I meant in the office. A good PA makes
sure he knows what his boss wants before she does,” he added. The twinkle in
his eye told her he’d been aware of the double meaning behind it, and again he
hadn’t been able to help himself.

It would be fun teasing him. But she still
wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

“It’s a busy job,” she said. “Lots of
travelling.”

“That’s fine.”

“But you said you wanted to settle down.”

“Staying in swish hotels with air
conditioning and minibars is not the same as camping with a dozen guys in the
desert, believe me.”

She was not going to think about him
showering with a dozen other sweaty guys. “I’m going on a tour of the country
over the next few weeks,” she said. “I need my PA to come with me.”

“That’s no problem.”

“It’s a long way. Lots of flying and car
journeys.”

“I like flying. And driving. I’m happy to
double as your chauffeur. It’ll be fun,” he said. “Trust me.”

She met his gaze. His eyes were gray, like
a sky heavy with rain, late on a summer’s evening.

“Trust me,” he said again, gently. A
strange phrase, but one that reached inside her and warmed her all the way
through.

She pushed herself to her feet. “You can
have a one-day trial. Work with Neve, let her show you the ropes. If she gives
you the green light, I’ll trust her judgment.” He had to be able to do the job.
And she knew Neve wouldn’t let him through just because she was trying to fix
her up.

He stood—a little awkwardly, she noticed.
That leg did still give him trouble. “That’s great. Thank you for the chance,
ma’am, you won’t regret it.”

She walked out, her lips curving at the
feel of his eyes burning into her butt like lasers.

Gene let Callie walk a few paces ahead of
him before following her out. It gave him time to admire the way her high heels
lent her hips an enticing swing as she walked across the room.

He hadn’t expected her to be such a
cracker. Phoebe Hawke—who went by her maiden name—had painted a picture of her
daughter as plump and mulish, and had somehow managed to suggest she was a
little stupid. At the time, he’d thought it didn’t marry with the fact that
Callie was also apparently the very successful CEO of a thriving company she’d
built from scratch, and it certainly didn’t fit now he’d met her.

When he’d stood in the doorway and his gaze
had fallen on the girl standing by the window, his first thought had been,
Oh
no
. Surely this wasn’t the woman he was expected to lie to for the next
three months.

Although not model-thin like her mother,
she wasn’t fat by any means. Rounded, maybe. Curvaceous, with a full bust and a
tiny waist that flared out to generous hips—a true hourglass figure like an
old-fashioned Hollywood starlet—Gina Lollobrigida, maybe, or Sophia Loren. She
wore a sleeveless cream blouse and a fawn-colored pencil skirt, and sexy high
heels with painted toenails peeking out of the cutaway toes. Shiny strawberry-blonde
hair bounced around her shoulders. She had an English-rose complexion with dark
pink lips pursed in thought. She was much younger and far sexier than he’d been
led to believe. Her expression had looked a little sad, though, and instead of
announcing his arrival, he’d found himself taking the opportunity to study her
while wondering what she was thinking about.

She certainly wasn’t stupid, either. He’d
read an article that a prestigious New Zealand fashion magazine had done on her
company. Callie had left Victoria University with a top-class Management degree
and had started up the business with her three friends at the age of twenty-two.
The magazine had said she worked sixty-hour weeks, although after speaking to
her he suspected that was a low estimate. It had also reported her as having “a
perceptive mind astute enough to challenge Sherlock Holmes,” and that seemed to
be the case from the way she’d spotted his military background and his wounded
hip, which he tried hard to hide.

He was going to have to be on his guard all
the time if he intended to see this through to the end.

“We’re going to give him a trial,” Callie
announced to Neve. She walked over to a spare chair and rolled it across the
floor to the desk. Looking at him expectantly, she gestured to it. “Sit.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave an odd little shiver. “Please
don’t call me ma’am.”

“We used surnames in the Army. I’m happy to
call you Summer, if you like.” The name fit her perfectly. Everything about her
was like a piece of summer captured and brought inside.

She gave him a wry look. “Callie will be
fine.”

He took the seat next to Neve, who smiled
and indicated the drawers to the right of her desk.

“Okay, so these are the main forms you’ll
need when a new customer calls.” She opened the drawer. “Yellow for the South
Island, blue for the North Island.” She looked up at Callie, who hovered with
folded arms. “Can I help you?”

Callie ran her tongue over her teeth,
glanced at him, then turned on her heel and walked back to her office, where
the door swung slowly shut.

Neve blew out a long, relieved breath, bent
forward, and rested her forehead on the table.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

She sat up again and rolled her eyes. “I
thought she’d never leave.” She gave him an exasperated look. “And I thought
you’d blown it in there, being cheeky to her. She was already flustered because
you have a… well, you know.” She gestured at his crotch.

Gene opened his mouth to give a sarcastic
retort, then stared at her.
Wait a minute
. He frowned. “What do you
mean, ‘blown it in there’? You need a replacement that much?”

“Well, yes, but I meant the secret
mission.” Neve’s voice dropped to an amusing stage whisper. “Phoebe told me
everything.”

“Really?” That surprised him. Callie’s
mother had been very clear that he was to keep his ulterior motive for being
there from her daughter.

“Phoebe needed my help,” Neve admitted. “It
wasn’t too much of a stretch to convince Callie that Becky needed to finish
work early. But we knew she wouldn’t go for a male PA unless there was no
alternative.”

“So you made sure the other candidates were
bad on purpose?”

Neve just grinned. Striking rather than
pretty, with brown hair cut in a long bob, boyish clothes, and a ‘don’t fuck
with me’ attitude, she obviously cared enough about her friend to go through
with this elaborate charade.

She leaned back in the chair and gave him a
curious look. “Can you really type ninety words a minute?”

“Damn straight. And I do know how to tie my
own shoelaces.”

She chuckled. “You may mock, but it’s a
pretty good speed for a soldier. And by the way, I thought you weren’t supposed
to tell her you were ex-Army.”

“I wasn’t, but she guessed. I don’t want to
lie unless I really have to.”

Neve nodded. “She’s very astute.”

“So I gather.”

She cocked her head at him. “You’re really
the director of Safe & Secure?”

“Yep.”

“So you’re, like, a real bodyguard?”

“Yep. Except we call them PPOs, personal protection
officers.”

“Phoebe told me she’d asked for you
personally.”

“Yes. That was… unexpected. But she wants
to keep her daughter safe—I can understand it.”

“Callie doesn’t want a bodyguard,” Neve
said.

“I know. Hence the undercover act.”

“She threw a fit when Phoebe suggested it.”

“I bet. Why didn’t she want one?”

“She doesn’t like being told what to
do—especially by her mother.”

“Fair enough.”

Phoebe was a Crown prosecutor at one of the
biggest law firms in Wellington. A gangster she’d put away six years ago and
who had recently come out of prison had sent her a death threat that had also
mentioned her daughter, prompting her to seek protection until he was caught.

Gene had known her for a long time, and he
suspected he was one of the few people she didn’t boss around. He could only
imagine the kind of pressure she’d put on Callie to accept security. He was
amazed Callie had managed to resist. Clearly, it hadn’t done her any good.
Phoebe had just changed to underhanded measures to get what she wanted. He
couldn’t blame her, though, when the safety of her daughter was at stake.

“So what are the rest of your company doing
while you’re up here?” Neve asked.

“They’re doing stuff I can’t do while I’m
not in the office, mainly with Phoebe, as she’s the main target. Callie was
mentioned in the letter, but it was Phoebe’s life that was threatened directly.
I am still surprised that Callie’s going on this tour, though.”

“You’ll learn that she’s very trusting and
thinks the best of everyone. She doesn’t really understand there might be someone
out there who wants to kill her.” Neve’s lips twisted. “She’s a great believer
in the underlying goodness of the human race.”

“Sucker,” Gene said.

She laughed. “Yeah.”

“She knows about the death threats,
though?”

“Yeah, but she believes her mother’s using
it to scare her, to force her to stay put. She thinks her mother resents her
success, so it’s a natural conclusion.”

Was Callie wrong there? Phoebe might not
have painted her daughter in a wonderful light, but the whole reason for her
setting up the protection was because she obviously loved Callie dearly, and
she’d seemed proud of her achievements.

Neve’s gaze slid to his chest. “Do you wear
a bulletproof vest?”

“Not at the moment. I will do, though, when
we’re out on the road.”

“Won’t she be able to see it?”

“The company that supplies our equipment
makes what’s called an executive vest—it looks like a waistcoat. That’s why I’m
wearing one now, so she gets used to seeing me in them.”

“I thought a three-piece was a bit over the
top.”

“I don’t know, I quite like it.” He
straightened the waistcoat. He hadn’t missed the way Callie’s gaze had slid
down him, soft and sensual as a warm hand on bare skin. “My new one’s bullet resistant
and protects against hypodermic needles and edged weapons.” He spoke with some
pride.

Neve’s smile faded, and her face paled.
“Jeez.”

Shit, he’d said too much. “Don’t worry.
We’ll do everything we can to make sure she stays safe.”

Neve’s gaze appraised him. “You’d really
jump in front of a bullet for her?”

“That’s my job.”

“You don’t know her. She can be really
grumpy sometimes. Especially early in the morning.”

He could imagine Callie early in the
morning. With her blonde hair ruffled, wearing nothing but his shirt, nipples
showing through the cotton like buttons. Seducing Summer. Now that was a
fantasy that would carry him through any sleepless nights.

Neve raised an eyebrow, and he blinked,
realizing his eyes must have glazed over. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Don’t even think about it,” she said.

“Think about what?”

Her previously warm expression turned cool.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but I
can assure you I’m excellent at my job, and I’ll do everything in my power to
keep her safe.”

Neve leaned back in her chair, tapping her
pen on the table as she surveyed him. “And her heart?”

He frowned. “What about it?”

“This is important, Gene. I’m serious. You
need to stay focused. Callie’s love life is important to us, and we’re
determined to fix her up with someone soon, but her safety is even more
important than that. I’ll be in touch with her on a regular basis, and if she
gives me any kind of hint that there’s something developing between the two of
you, I’ll be straight on to Phoebe, and before you know it you’ll be off the
job.”

“And I won’t be able to show my face around
Wellington again?” He glared at her. “Come on, give me some credit. I have no
intention of getting involved with her.”

“You don’t know her.” Neve’s face softened.
“Her IQ is bigger than yours and mine added together, she works harder than
anyone else I’ve ever known, she’s very perceptive, and she has this weird
knack of knowing what you’re thinking. Men find her fascinating, and it always
leads to disaster. Because although she’s generous and funny, and has a heart
of gold, her astuteness doesn’t extend to her personal relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

Neve hesitated. “You mustn’t tell her I
told you. But I think it’s best you know. Four months ago, she walked in on her
ex in bed with his secretary.”

“Christ.” That was why she’d looked so sad.

“We all knew he was bad news, but she
couldn’t see it. She trusted him completely, and it nearly destroyed her. She’s
just climbing out of the black hole she’d fallen into, so the last thing she
needs is for someone like you making a move on her.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, Gene. You’re gorgeous, smart, and
there’s something dangerous about you. Don’t roll your eyes. You know perfectly
well what I mean. You’re the kind of guy who goes after the woman he wants and
doesn’t let anything get in his way. Well you can’t afford to do that with
Callie. If you let her, she’ll fall for you, so you’ve got to make sure that
doesn’t happen.”

Gene felt as if he’d walked into some kind
of teen movie. He should have known better than to take on a job in a lingerie
business. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said sharply. “This is
a professional working relationship and it’s going to stay that way.” Callie
might not have been what he was expecting, but that didn’t mean he’d jeopardize
his job to play with her, and it was insulting to him that anyone would think
otherwise.

“I hope so,” Neve continued, ignoring his
glare. “Because you can’t tell her that you’re actually her bodyguard, and that
means lying to her, and she won’t take it well when she finds out—because she
will, eventually. She’s too smart not to. Life’s thrown a lot at her, including
a cheating boyfriend, a mother who’s determined to control her, and a father
who’s an arrogant ass but absolutely adores her, so much so that she can’t see
his bad points. I don’t know how much more she can take.” She frowned. “I don’t
understand why Phoebe didn’t ask for a female bodyguard. Why did she insist on
you?”

“We go back a long way,” he said. He didn’t
elaborate, even though Neve’s expression glimmered with curiosity.

“You’re one for secrets, aren’t you?” She
shrugged. “Whatever. I just want you to know that when you say you’re out to
protect her, that means all of her, heart included. Do you swear?”