Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) (6 page)

Garrett thought the same damn thing. “Agreed. But the boss wants this done, it’s getting done.”

Flash sighed. “We’ll have your back tonight. I think it’s a whole lot of effort for nothing, but whatever.”

“Who’s driving us?” Because he’d discussed it with his guys, and they agreed that one of them should play chauffeur while he rode in the back with Grace. Just in case something happened, he needed to be able to react—and he couldn’t do that if he was driving Miss Daisy around town.

“I am.”

Garrett nodded. “Good.”

They chatted a bit more, about tonight and then about nothing much, and Flash left. Garrett put on ESPN and watched a rehash of a football game from last week. He scrolled through his messages—nothing from his ex, thank God, and nothing from Cammie. That last bothered him, but Cammie was in school and she wasn’t allowed to text during class.

Eventually, he went to the guest room he’d commandeered—Grace hadn’t reappeared since she’d taken her cute friend and gone upstairs a few hours ago. The friend—Brooke, she’d said—had left a while ago now. She’d been flirting with him after the misunderstanding in the kitchen—shit, he could still wring Grace’s neck for not informing him she had a friend with a key to the house—but when she left, she hadn’t said anything other than she’d be back at four thirty to help Grace get ready.

He wasn’t disappointed she’d stopped flirting. She was cute, no doubt about it, but he found himself strangely uninterested. Not to mention he had no time for distractions right now. And she would be a distraction. If he bedded her, it would get awkward, because these days he was a one-and-done kind of guy. Not a lot of women appreciated that, he’d come to find out.

But he just couldn’t maintain interest. After his disastrous marriage with Melissa, it was no doubt a gut reaction to
anything
that smacked of a relationship. He had too much going on in his life to deal with yet another woman in it.

He took a shower and put on his tux, then went down the hall to Grace’s room—he knew it was hers because of the locked door and the classical music in the background—and knocked.

“Yes?” she called.

Her voice slid down his spine like whisky-infused honey. “You okay in there?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Your friend come back yet?”

The doorknob twisted, and then she was standing there, most of her body hiding behind the door. Because she was wearing a silky robe and probably nothing else. His groin took that moment to decide to spark to life.

Her blue eyes were wide, and she wasn’t wearing glasses for once. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, and her neck was long and graceful. He wished he could see what kind of curves she had. She’d been wearing some kind of stretchy pants earlier, but she’d had on a billowy T-shirt and he couldn’t quite tell what was going on with her body.

He hadn’t forgotten that flash of her panties earlier or the long legs as they’d climbed the stairs. At first glance, Grace Campbell seemed a little ordinary. But the more you looked at her, the more interesting she got.

“She’s on her way. I’d appreciate it if you don’t accost her this time.”

She sounded so prim. It grated on him—and thrilled him in some ridiculously odd way as well. He had a sudden urge to slant his mouth over hers and knock the starch right out of her.

“Not planning on it, cupcake.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why do you insist on calling me names like that? It’s insulting. I have an MD—and I graduated near the top of my class, by the way.”

“I like the way your nose wrinkles when you’re pissed. Makes the job more interesting.”

She blinked at him, and then her throat moved as she swallowed. “Well, stop. I don’t like it.”

Garrett laughed. “Not happening… cupcake.”

She actually stomped her foot. Her face turned a delightful shade of pink. “You are… a…an
ass
!”

“You aren’t the first woman to think so,” he told her very seriously. And then he gave her a little salute before turning and strolling down the hall and back down the stairs. He didn’t know why it amused him to irritate her, but it did.

Her friend arrived a short while later, and the two of them stayed in her room. Flash arrived about fifteen minutes before it was time to leave.

“Did you see the news?” he asked as he came inside.

“No, why?” He’d been watching football because he loved it and because it made him think of when he’d been younger and the world had seemed to be his for the taking.

Flash picked up the remote and switched it to a news channel. Helicopter footage of a building was on the screen. There were people gathering at the gates of the building and security barricading the entry. The headline was sensational—and sent a chill down Garrett’s spine.

Presidential Candidate’s Daughter Works at Top-Secret Lab; Are They Creating Bioweapons?

The reporter talked about Magnolia Laboratories, how they were a private company focusing on research, and how they’d received grants and private money to experiment with viruses. And then there was a picture of Grace, but not a white-coated lab picture. In this one, she was with her parents—and the president of the United States. It had clearly been chosen for the sensational nature of the story—a candidate’s daughter with connections in high places who also worked in a research laboratory that just might be on the verge of killing off the entire planet.

The reporter went on to speculate—along with her experts—as to the nature of the work the lab was really doing and how quickly a virus could spread out of control if accidentally released.

Then someone suggested this was why they couldn’t elect Senator Campbell to the presidency, because he would have control of a dangerous bioweapon through his daughter. The conversation disintegrated from there.

“It’s not true!”
 

Garrett spun around to find Grace standing just inside the room, her pale skin flushed and her hands clenched into fists at her side. Garrett felt as if someone had slammed him over the head with a two-by-four.

Grace Campbell was wearing a black dress that hugged her breasts and flared into a full skirt over her hips. The dress was strapless, and she wore a pearl choker. Her hair was piled on her head, curls escaping to drape artfully over her shoulder.
 

She walked into the room, her tiny purse clutched in both hands, her long legs eating up ground as she moved. Her ankles were slender and sexy in a pair of shoes with black straps that wrapped around them and buckled right over the bone.

He had a sudden urge to remove those straps with his teeth. And then spread her legs wide and lick his way up to the center.

Shit.

“My father has
nothing
to do with my research—and I’m not a monster!” She was staring at the screen, her eyes filled with anger and hurt. Her friend came up beside her and put her arms around her.

“You know what these people are like, Grace. This isn’t the first time your father’s been in the lion’s den, and it won’t be the last. They’re going to harass him—and your family—for the next few months. And if he wins the nomination? Look out.”
 

Grace turned to her pint-sized friend. “I know.
Dammit!
”

Garrett’s eyes widened. He didn’t think Grace Campbell cussed, but he rather liked it that she did.
 

Flash coughed. “I’ll go get the car.”

Grace’s gaze landed on him as if she’d just now realized he was there. Which she probably had. She looked confused and a little wary.

“This is Ryan Gordon, Grace. He works with me, and he’ll be our chauffeur tonight.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Flash said, holding out his hand.

Grace didn’t move until Brooke nudged her. Then she took Ryan’s hand and murmured a polite hello. Flash left with a look aimed at Garrett. Then Garrett stood there with Grace and Brooke and didn’t quite know what to say. She was still staring at the TV, her face screwed up in a frown. He didn’t like the wounded look she wore at all.

“Maybe you should cancel,” Brooke said, frowning.

“I can’t.” Grace pulled in a deep breath. And then she smiled. He wasn’t fooled by that smile. He didn’t think Brooke was either. “It will be fine. I’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t miss it. Mother and Daddy are expecting me.”

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE’D SAID SHE WOULD BE FINE, but the truth was she dreaded every moment. But that’s what you did when you had a political family—you smiled and pretended you were happy even when you were falling apart inside.

“I have to get going,” Brooke said. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”
 

Grace hugged her friend, and then Brooke disappeared, leaving her alone with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly. He picked up the remote, and the television went black. She started to tell him to turn it back on, but she didn’t really want to see it anyway. All those people clustered outside Magnolia Labs with their signs and their misunderstandings about what Grace was doing.

She shuddered. “That’s why you didn’t take me to work earlier.”

He was looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. It was a different look for him, and she found it a little disconcerting.

“That’s right.”
 

He tossed the remote onto the ottoman and moved toward her. He really was something else in his tuxedo, his dark hair cropped close, his tanned skin contrasting sharply with the whiteness of his shirt and the black bow tie at his neck. The tux fit him perfectly, its black silhouette making him seem somehow less menacing and more approachable than he had before.

She knew it wasn’t true, but she liked the illusion. For the first time, she imagined herself arriving tonight on this man’s arm—and she liked the way that made her feel. A tiny bright spot in an otherwise disastrous day. The media would get plenty of pictures of her, but at least she wouldn’t be alone. He would be by her side everywhere she went, and for once she found that comforting.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?”
 

His gunmetal eyes raked over her, and her body lit up in ways she hadn’t thought about lately. She’d been so busy at work that sex had seemed unimportant for a long time now. When was the last time she’d had sex anyway?

Six months ago? Holy cow, more like a year, she realized. She’d had an on-again, off-again relationship that went permanently off when he’d decided she was too focused on her work and not enough on him. And that was the end of that. She’d seen him at a restaurant once with a date. It had hurt more than she’d cared to admit.

“I hate crowds,” she said and then wanted to bite her tongue for admitting such a thing to this man.
 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Grace.”

“It…it’s not that. It’s all those people, all the fakeness of it. I hate it. I’ve always hated it. I’d rather stay home with a pizza and a book—or a good movie.”

She hadn’t intended to admit that to him either, but she didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him to do his job.

He looked surprised. “What’s your definition of a good movie? Romantic chick flick nonsense?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes I like a good rerun of
Die Hard
.”

“I like that one too. Anything with explosions.
X-Men, G.I. Joe, Iron Man.
”

“Those are good.”

He grinned, and her heart gave a hard thump against her chest. “Let’s get you to that party. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can get that pizza and watch a flick.”

He came and put a hand against the small of her back, ushering her toward the door. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do that she hadn’t expected it from him after the way he’d spoken to her earlier.

But then she had to admit she hadn’t helped that situation by being snotty with him or showing her displeasure at having him around.

He made her wait while he checked the street, and then he took her out to the car and handed her in. He went around the other side to join her, and the car moved smoothly away from the curb.
 

“The two of you work together?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

Garrett turned his head. “Yes. For the past year.”

“Do you do this kind of thing often?”

“Actually, no.” His gaze met the other man’s in the rearview mirror. “Private security is only one of our specialties, but it’s not the primary one.”

“Which is why you don’t want to be here.”

The driver’s gaze hit the rearview again for a brief second.

Garrett cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I said that. Your safety is my number one priority. Never doubt that.”

“And I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. It’s just that I don’t like, um, strangers in my space.”
 

My God, she was babbling. Why?
 

Because they were getting closer and closer to the hotel, and she was dreading it. Chattering to him was easier to bear than the thought of talking to all those people. Of smiling and pretending she was having a good time while her life was imploding around her ears.