Laws of Attraction (16 page)

“Hold that thought.” Dallas switched on the radio at low volume. “Okay. I wired a frequency scrambler into the sound system. Thwarts long and short-distance listening devices.”

“Detail oriented, aren’t you?”

“A careful man lives to see another sunrise.” He reached into his blazer pocket, withdrew a cell phone, then handed it to her. “This
is
a business expense, courtesy of McQuade Security. It’s encrypted, ninety-nine point nine percent secure, with every bell and whistle you’ll need and then some. I’ve programmed in the necessary numbers. Press one and it connects to me wherever I am, just like the home alarm. You can dial Zane or Carlos for help, too.”

“Wow, thanks.” She examined the gadgets and played with the mind-boggling extras as he drove.

When the new ringtone she’d set blasted out, he cocked a brow. “‘Bulletproof?’”

“I like it.” Curious, she pressed one, held it down.

Chris Daughtry’s resonant voice sounded from inside Dallas’ jacket, singing the heartbreaking “All These Lives.” About violence and sorrow, and the determination to triumph over tragedy.

He immediately shut it off.

She studied his handsome, somber profile. “Dallas, I know something bad happened to you,” she said softly. “I’ll believe you. When you’re ready.”

His attention fixed straight ahead at the black clouds obliterating the horizon. “Once we’re done here, I’ll be fine.”

Her almost cleared vision hazed. Dallas’ sliced ribs had healed, but he was still bleeding on the inside … and didn’t even realize it.

Mia took a deep breath. She had immediate problems to resolve.

For starters, she’d missed more work last night due to the party. A gust of wind spattered the first insistent raindrops on the rooftop and across the windows as she dialed her supervisor and waited for his usual indifferent greeting. “Hello, Mr. Greene, this is Mia Linden.”

“Ms. Linden. You didn’t show for your second scheduled shift in a row last night, this time without calling.”

“Yes, I apologize, and I can assure you, it won’t happen a third time.”

“I know it won’t. Don’t bother coming in tonight—you’re fired.”

“
What
? I’ve worked there off-and-on since college! I’ve been conscientious and responsible, taken extra shifts without complaint, and I’ve never missed one day until now!”

“Two strikes, and you’re out. I have fifty resumes from other unskilled birdbrains begging for a job. Accounting will mail your last check.” A sharp click stung her eardrum. Static buzzed.

She braced against the slap of shame, the backlash of anger and fear. She’d just been axed from job number two in four months. How would she pay the rent? Her massive college loans? “I can’t believe he fired me,” she whispered.

“Hell, you got sacked?” Dallas flipped on the wipers to clear the water-streaked windshield, then his hand reached over and wrapped around her chilled fingers. “You can stay at my place as long as necessary. We’re gonna hammer Montoya and Grayson, and then you’ll reinstate your attorney’s license.”

She sagged in her seat. If she didn’t expose the Graysons—and soon—everything she’d endured, everything she’d fought for her entire life, would be worthless. “Are we? Because sometimes I feel like I’m tilting at windmills.”

Dallas’s thumb rubbed her wrist. “C’mon, Kato. What happened to that ninja spirit?”

“Temporarily flagging.” Mia tucked the phone in her pocket. “Okay, what’s our goal for today?”

“There’s my trusty sidekick. Today we front the marriage façade. Eyes and ears wide open while ingratiating ourselves with Esteban. The more personal contact and trust we establish, the more access we’ll gain.”

He idled the Jeep outside the estate’s black iron gates in order to key in a code and slide a laminated card through the lock mechanism. When he pulled his hand back in, it was soaking wet. “Montoya has a soft spot towards women, and he likes you, so it’ll be easier for you to play him.”

His strategy was shrewd, his confidence inspiring. But … “You sound like you’ve run this game before.”

“If I didn’t know what I was doing, I’d be in the cemetery—alongside Montoya’s other adversaries. Exactly why I need you to follow the plan and not go off half-cocked.”

Which didn’t answer her question. “I have excellent instincts, and if you’ll notice, I’ve managed to stay breathing so far.”

The storm unleashed its full fury as Dallas drove up the long driveway and shut down the engine. He turned to her, narrowed indigo eyes glinting with cold, lethal focus. “And I intend to keep you that way.”

Mia hugged her purse to her chest. Thank heaven Dallas McQuade was on her side, because he’d be a formidable adversary.

She waited for him to stride around, open her door and help her out. Her concession was for any curious bystanders watching from the house, not because it made Dallas happy.

Right, and which bridge would you like to purchase today, Mia
?

Rain-driven wind would’ve blown her across the yard if not for his steely arm anchoring her. Thunder clashed, ozone stung her nostrils, then lightning speared overhead. Mia flinched. “Yikes. I hope that’s not an omen!”

“Makes two of us.”

The maid who’d served dessert the afternoon Mia had fallen through the gazebo answered the doorbell. The woman cheerily waved them into the foyer. “
Buenos días
.”

“
Buenos días, Señora Garcia
,” Dallas said in flawless Spanish. He inclined his head at Mia. “Ésta es mi esposa, Mia. Mia, this is
Señora
Rosa Garcia.”

Mia extended her hand. “I’m afraid I don’t speak Spanish very well yet. I’m learning, though. Um,
encantada de conocerte, Señora
Garcia.”

“I speak some English, also not very well. I, too, am pleased to meet you,
Señora
McQuade. I am to tell you
Señor
Montoya has been delayed.” The maid frowned. “
Señorita
Soledad and
Señorita
Isabel have not yet arrived down the stairs. You would like drinks served in the front room while you are waiting,
sí
?”

“No thanks,” Dallas replied. “I have a few things to catch up on in my office, we’ll both wait there. Would you ring me when
Señor
Montoya is free,
por favor
?”

“
Sí, Señor
McQuade.”

Dallas ushered Mia through the enormous house and upstairs into his office, then closed the door. Lightning crackled and the power briefly flickered. She glanced around in interest. Montoya, or more likely his decorator, had done the room like the rest of the mansion in bold primary colors, primitive art and heavy dark furniture. So different from Dallas’ clean and simple personal style, she’d bet he hated it. “What do you suppose waylaid Esteban? From what I gather, he’s quite punctual.”

“Hang on.” Dallas pulled a device that looked like a miniature walkie-talkie from his pocket and walked a slow circle around the room. “No bugs.”

“Geez, careful is one thing, but paranoid much?”

“It’s way too easy. Case in point …” He moved behind his desk, leaned down and booted up his laptop.

She followed, observed from beside him. “Is that wise in an electrical storm?”

“There are times when you gotta do what you gotta do, and damn the consequences.”

“Yeah, I was born beneath that billboard, cowboy.”

“It’ll be a minute, I need to run a quick system scan.” After a complicated series of pass-codes and scrolling data, which of course she couldn’t decipher, an image popped onto the screen: Esteban standing in what had to be
his
office … with Isabel.

“Holy—” She whistled. “You tapped Montoya’s office?”

“Not only his office.” He gave her a wry look. “I’m his chief of security. It’s my job to ensure his welfare at
all
times.”

“But you didn’t tell him.”

“That’d pretty much render the effort futile, wouldn’t it now?”

“What if Esteban has one of those bug checking devices?”

“He does.” Dallas grinned. “And I’m the one who operates it.”

“Bugging your boss in his own home, with equipment
he
bought, while he’s also paying you a hefty salary. I have to give you credit, you’ve got gigantic clanging brass balls, McQuade.”

He laughed. “Appreciate the award of confidence.”

The power flickered again, wavering the screen before the image steadied. They both watched a grave Esteban issue an intense but quiet reprimand to his niece. “You are in charge of the main Limón factory. Why were you unaware of this discrepancy?”

Isabel tossed her hair, dangling gold earrings brushing the gathered shoulders of her yellow halter dress—very expensive Vera Wang, unless Mia was mistaken. “Since our demand has exceeded supply, I am insane with trying to increase manufacturing and distribution. I do not have time to nit-pick over the finances.”

“Isabel …” Esteban pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have discovered nearly a million dollars unaccounted for, from this first quarter’s shipment alone.”

Isabel shrugged. “That is why you hired the Graysons, to arrange your books, no? Why do you not ask them?”

“I did leave an urgent message for the senior Grayson. But until he returns my call—”

A deafening blast of thunder rattled the walls as Dallas’ office door slammed inward, and Zane burst in. He snarled at Mia. “There you are!”

Mia and Dallas both jumped. Dallas immediately killed the image on his computer.

Mia’s heartbeat kicked and she stumbled backward. “Zane! I—”

“Rosa said you were in here.” He advanced on her, his hair and jacket wet, brown gaze glittering. He had a bruise beneath one eye and a swollen bottom lip. “I ought to wring your neck, you little—”

Dallas stepped between Mia and the furious bodyguard. “Careful. There’s a lady present.”

Stunned, Mia stared at Dallas’s broad back. It was the first time anyone had ever put themselves between her and harm’s way.

Zane barked out a snide laugh. “Lady, my ass! Do you know what she
did
to me?”

“Judging by the way your face looks, and a few recent experiences of my own … I have a fairly good idea.”

“She left me handcuffed to a crapper—for hours! She gagged me with my own fucking tie!”

“I honestly had no other recourse.” Her ears rang and her limbs trembled with spiking adrenaline. But this was her mess to clean up. She tried to maneuver around Dallas to face her adversary. “I needed to get back to Portland.”

Dallas’ forearm shot out, barricading her. “Stay put.” He frowned at Zane. “And you cool down.”

“
Cool down
? She stole my wallet and my phone. And threw away my gun! Christ, my Beretta Storm .45—a seven-hundred dollar weapon—in the dumpster! I had to rummage through dick-deep garbage to find it!” Zane ground his teeth. “Do you have any idea what kind of disgusting shit they throw into airport dumpsters?”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” she offered. “I am sorry, for everything.”

“Sorry?” Zane’s fingers clenched into fists. “You can’t possibly be sorry enough.”

Dallas’s glare lasered the other man. “You’re pushing it, Wolfe. When I gave you the assignment, I advised she was a handful and to keep a sharp eye on her. The operative word being
sharp
.”

“A gang-banger is a handful. A strung-out meth-head is a handful.” Zane pressed his lips together, then winced. “
She’s
a category-five natural disaster.”

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself for her escape,” Dallas said evenly. “You’re lucky she isn’t the type to shoot you with your own weapon, or you’d be pushing up daisies. I’ll make sure you get reimbursed for the money she took, and any damages.”

“Damned straight you will.”

“Heads up.” Dallas pulled Zane’s wallet and phone from his jacket and rapid-fired them to him. As Zane’s sure hands caught them, Dallas nodded toward the door. “The security log indicated no perimeter check has been performed since oh-five-hundred. I suggest you get some fresh air before you say or do something we’ll both regret.”

Zane’s face mottled. He shoved his wallet and phone into his pocket, then stabbed his index finger at Mia. “We’re not finished.” With
later
stamped all over his enraged expression, he whirled and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

How long had she been holding her breath? Mia gulped oxygen. Between Dallas’ earlier generosity, and now his unexpected staunch defense, the barricade around her heart was crumbling at a terrifying rate. “Why didn’t you let me talk to him? I’m the one who—”

Dallas pivoted, glared at her. “That is a dangerous man, and he is seriously annoyed. From now on, keep out of his way.”

“See? A talent for antagonism.” She pressed her lips together. “I probably shouldn’t count on help from his number in my cell directory.”

“You think?”

Wind howled around the house, making it shudder. “Um … what do you suppose that scene between Isabel and Esteban was about?”

He strode to his desk, yanked open a drawer. Taking out a bottle of ibuprofen, he shook four into his palm and chewed them dry. “I have the distinct impression threads are unraveling at
Casa
Montoya.”

“Is that good, or bad?”

“Excellent for us. Not so hot for Esteban. He’s spooked, and might not be as cautious as usual.” Dallas’ desk phone buzzed. He stabbed a button. “McQuade.”

“
Señor
McQuade,” Rosa said. “
Señor
Montoya is on his way to the dining room.”

“Thank you, Rosa. We’ll be right down.” He rolled his neck. “All right. Let’s do brunch.”

As Mia reached the office doorway, Dallas’ hand settled at the small of her back. The other reached around her to open the door. “My darlin’ bride …” He leaned close to her ear, and she could’ve sworn she heard reluctant amusement in his deep drawl. “Please try and restrain the urge to gag our host with his own tie.”

“If he doesn’t try to handcuff me and haul me away, he’s in the clear.”

Moments after they arrived downstairs in the elegant terracotta dining room, Isabel sashayed in on Carlos’ arm.

Dallas watched the other woman’s disdainful glance rake Mia.

“It is the unexpected wife.” Isabel’s lips slanted in a phony greeting. “And don’t you look like … a saccharine little dish of sorbet.”