The Professional (18 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Nelson

BOOK: The Professional
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Audrey chuckled softly. “Yes, Gramps, I certainly don’t have to wonder about that.” Ever. In fact, she could confidently say that not many people
ever
had to wonder what the Colonel thought. It was part of his charm.

“Don’t be fresh, young lady,” he scolded. “I only have your best interests at heart. And he’s not one deserving of yours,” he added gruffly.

Affection swelled, making Audrey smile. Now how could she stay mad at him when he said things like that? “I know you do.”

“Yeah, well, always be sure and keep that in mind,” he muttered darkly, causing a momentary premonition of dread.

Audrey scowled. “Why would I need to keep that—”

“Gotta go, sweetheart,” he said briskly. “Your grandmother’s got dinner on the table and you know how she gets if the roast gets cold. I’ll talk to you next week. Take good care of my boy.” A resounding click echoed into her ear, signaling the end of their bizarre conversation.

Baffled, Audrey stared at her cell before closing it, then gave her head a little shake. Men, she thought. Even the older, so-called wiser ones were incomprehensible.

In future, keep that in mind,
he’d said. Clearly he intended to give her a reason to do just that.

The question was…
what?

3

“L
ET
ME
GET
THIS
STRAIGHT
,”
the young Halle Berry look-alike on the other side of the reception desk said. “
You’re
the Colonel’s friend?” She had an “oh-hell-no” look on her face, as if she couldn’t quite believe him.

Jamie smiled awkwardly. “I am,” he repeated, verifying the fact.

Her dark brown eyes widened in what could only be described as shocked disbelief, then her gaze turned consideringly crafty and a secret smile curled her lips. “That sly old dog,” she muttered under her breath, flipping through a stack of large white envelopes. “He said he had an ace up his sleeve, but I never dreamed…” She trailed off.

“I’m sorry?”

She looked up and handed him a packet. “Oh, nothing.” She smiled warmly. “Welcome to Unwind. I’m Tewanda. If you have any questions, you can reach me by dialing zero from the phone in your cottage. Here’s your welcome information as well as your itinerary and key. You’re in number eight, a nice secluded little hideaway with a beautiful view of the lake. It’s also got a pier, should you decide you’d like to swim or fish.” She leaned forward and pointed to a laminated map attached to her desk. “You’ll find a map of the property in your packet as well, but things are clearly marked so you shouldn’t have any problems. We’ll have an informal meet and greet in the lodge at six. It isn’t mandatory, but we urge you to come. In the meantime—”

Jamie sensed movement behind him and watched Tewanda’s warm brown gaze turn frosty. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a man strolling toward them across the room.

“Where’s Audrey?” the guy asked, interrupting them rudely. Jamie scowled.

Though he knew it was ridiculous, he instantly disliked the guy.

“I’m with a guest right now, Derrick,” Tewanda said coolly. “As I was saying Mr. Flanagan, settle in and—”

“I can see that,” Derrick interrupted again. He shot Jamie a condescending look, one that somehow managed to be pitying and patronizing at once. It was a “you-poor-weak-bastard” look, which made Jamie’s blood pressure rise and his right fist involuntarily clench.

“But I’m in a bit of a hurry and I need to see Audrey before I go.” He paused. “She hasn’t returned any of my calls, which can only lead me to assume that you haven’t passed along any of my messages.”

Tewanda’s nose flared as she drew in a breath. “Oh, I’ve passed them along, all right. Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk to you.”

He smiled as if the idea was out of the question. “Oh, I doubt that. Page her,” he ordered. “I’m pressed for time.”

With a tight “excuse me” and a murderous look, Tewanda lifted a walkie-talkie from the desk.

The man leaned over to Jamie, as though he were an ally. “Good help’s hard to find these days,” he said, shooting a look at Tewanda. “I’ve tried to tell Audrey that she should let her go, but does she listen to me?”

He certainly hoped not, Jamie thought, sidling away from him. What a prick.

“Audrey, Derrick is here disrupting a check-in and won’t leave until he speaks with you. Could you come up here and get rid of him— Er, I mean
talk
to him, please?” she asked with faux sweetness.

“See,” Derrick said. “Such impertinence. If I ever have any say-so—and I will,” he added with a confident smile, “—then she’ll be the first of many changes I make around here.”

Tewanda merely rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Derrick. The day you have any say-so will be the day I quit.”

“Where’s she at?” he asked, ignoring her comment. He checked his watch again and glanced impatiently toward the door.

“I don’t have her on GPS,” she snapped. “How the hell should I know?”

A startled laugh clogged Jamie’s throat and he and Tewanda shared a smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s all right,” he told her, waving it off.

“What are you apologizing to him for?” Derrick asked, seemingly offended. “It’s me you were rude to.”

She tidied a stack of papers on her desk and grunted. “In a perfect world, you wouldn’t exist.”

Jamie had only been in the man’s company for a total of thirty seconds and found that he wholeheartedly concurred.

Derrick scowled and readied his mouth for a comeback, but before he could utter a sound, the woman from the photo on Garrett’s desk walked in.

Sonofabitch,
Jamie thought, his suspicions confirmed.
Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

As an elite graduate of Ranger School, Jamie had been trained to notice every detail. For instance, the minute he’d walked into this room, he’d noted everything from the exits—doors and windows—to the half-eaten jelly doughnut hidden behind a potted plant on the desk. In a pinch he could describe the pile of the carpet, the picture hanging on the opposite wall and could cite the programs currently running on the computer. It was this very training that enabled him to quickly catalogue Audrey Kincaid’s every feature.

In the time it took her to cross the room, Jamie had noted that her hair wasn’t black as it had seemed in the picture, but rather a very dark brown just a degree shy of black. Espresso, he decided. Her eyes were the same, a clear intelligent blue that shimmered with wit and warmth. She was petite—five-four or under, he imagined—but with an athletic build that was surprisingly curvy. She had a small mole just up and to the right of her lush mouth and when she smiled, an adorable dimple winked in her left cheek. She was sexy and enchanting and delicious and he found himself fighting the inexplicable urge to lick her all over.

Which wouldn’t be good because she was totally off-limits. Garrett would kill him. After he cut his pride and joy off and force-fed it to him, Jamie reminded himself grimly.

He’d do well to remember that.

“Derrick,” she said in a softly chiding voice. “I thought you’d be on your way to the airport by now.”

Derrick grinned, gathered her into an awkward hug and said, “I couldn’t leave without giving you a proper goodbye.” He nuzzled her cheek and, though it could have only been wishful thinking on Jamie’s part, she winced as if she didn’t particularly care for his attention. Looking ready to retch, Tewanda rolled her eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, disentangling herself from him. “You, uh… You don’t want to miss your flight.”

“No, no, of course not. I just wanted to give you a reason to miss me.”

Audrey smiled, rather weakly, it seemed, but didn’t say anything.

He ran a finger down her nose. “And I also wanted to remind you to think about what I’d asked you.”

This time she chuckled, but there was almost a sick-sounding quality to it that Jamie was certain both he and Tewanda had heard, but that had completely gone unnoticed by Derrick. In fact, he got the distinct impression that Derrick missed a lot.

“Er…no worries,” she told him. “I’m not likely to forget.”

“I guess not,” he said, smiling smugly. “All right then. I’d better be off.” He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday…and I’ll expect an answer,” he added ominously. Without so much as a backward glance to the rest of the occupants in the room, he strode out.

“Want me to give him an answer?” Tewanda offered hopefully when the door closed behind Derrick.

Audrey’s shoulders sagged with a sigh of obvious relief. “No,” she told her. “That won’t be necessary.” She pushed a hand through her hair, then looked up and for the first time her gaze landed on Jamie. “Oh,” she said, her eyes widening in obvious embarrassment.

Tewanda grinned. “This is our newest guest—Jamie Flanagan,” she said. “The Colonel’s friend,” she added significantly.

Impossibly, her eyes widened further, then another “oh” slipped from between her lips. Three beats passed, then she gave her head a small shake. She smiled and hurried forward to offer her hand.

Against his better judgment he took it and, to his immediate chagrin, his palm tingled where it touched hers. Heat detonated in his loins and a curious warmth expanded in his chest.

Now that was novel, Jamie thought, somewhat startled by the singularly disturbing reaction. His dick had stirred the instant he’d seen her—no surprise there because it nodded at almost every woman of the right age with a halfway decent rack—but this was the first time he’d ever gotten a charge out of merely touching a woman’s hand. While the picture of her might have been compelling, seeing her in the flesh was nothing short of magnetic. Jamie gritted his teeth as more prophet-of-doom musings rolled through his head.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Flanagan.”

“Jamie, please,” he told her, smiling, as a litany of curses reeled through his head.

“Jamie, then. I’m Audrey. Welcome to Unwind.”

Hell more like, Jamie thought, because guarding this woman without seducing her was going to be an exercise in restraint which would result in the most perverse sort of torture he could imagine.

Unwind hell.

He’d be lucky if he didn’t come un-glued, un-hinged, un-wound, or un-manned by the time this week was over.

* * *


S
INCE
M
R
. F
LANAGAN
IS
a special guest, why don’t you show him to his cottage personally?” Tewanda suggested sweetly.

Unable to tear her gaze away from the man in question, it took Audrey a few seconds to respond. “Er…sure. I’d be happy to. If you’ll just come with me,” she said trying to sound more professional than the half-wit she’d undoubtedly just appeared to be.

Sheesh, Audrey thought, resisting the pressing urge to fan herself as they walked outside into the cool autumn air. You’d think she’d never seen a good-looking man before.

But this man wasn’t merely good-looking, she thought with a covert peek from the corner of her eye—he was
pure
take-your-breath-away nipple-tingling flash-fire-across-the-thighs
eye candy
.

This
was her grandfather’s friend?
This
was the guy who needed special attention?

Quite frankly, she couldn’t imagine that he didn’t get all the attention that he wanted.

Of the female variety, at least, she thought with a quirk of her lips.

He had that look, that cocked, locked, ready to rock sexuality that instantly put a woman in mind of warm massage oil and thigh-quaking orgasms.

Unfortunately, to her immeasurable chagrin considering she’d only been in his presence a mere sixty seconds, that included herself.

That certainly didn’t bode well for a week of what her grandfather had insisted should be intense one-on-one attention. Particularly as she was supposed to be considering a marriage proposal. But that was a whole other problem she’d simply have to think about later, she decided, channeling a little Scarlet O’Hara.

Right now, she was finding it hard enough to regulate her breathing, much less anything else. She was too distracted by the disturbingly masculine line of his jaw, those sleepy hazel eyes which managed to be both wise and wicked and that shock of adorably curly brown hair.

He was clearly an alpha—from the jut of that jaw to the swagger in his step, everything about him screamed
merited
confidence—but that hair softened him up, made him approachable and gave him a beta boy-next-door quality that mysteriously added to his overall sex appeal. Audrey felt a smile tug at her lips. No doubt he could make an orchid bloom in an arctic winter or charm the habit right off a nun if the mood struck…then convince her it was her idea.

And she’d bet he didn’t scream like a girl when he came, either.

Mercy.

Jamie paused next to what was clearly a rental sedan. “Do I drive up to the cottage?” he asked.

Audrey shook her head and indicated an area to the side of the office. “Up there will be fine. If you’d like to leave your bags with me, I’ll wait here while you park.”

“Bag.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You said ‘bags.’” An interesting display of muscle action rippled across his back as he reached into the back seat, pulled out a small duffel and, wearing a lazy smile, handed it to her. “It’s bag. Singular.”

Audrey chewed the corner of her lip, eying the duffel skeptically. “You have almost a week’s worth of clothes in
this
bag?”

“With a couple of changes to spare.”

She chuckled and inclined her head. He certainly had the art of packing light down to a science. Of course, given his military training she supposed that was habit as much as necessity. The more they packed, the more they had to carry. Too bad that some of the other people who came here didn’t have that same mentality. If they had to
schlep their weighty Louis Vuitton everywhere themselves, they might rethink packing everything but the kitchen sink.

Feeling herself intrigued beyond what she knew to be prudent, Audrey waited while Jamie moved the car. He made quick work of it, locked up, then loped with easy grace back down to where she stood and took the bag. “All right, then,” he said, casually taking in their surroundings. “Where to?”

Audrey set off and pointed toward the lake. “Right down there.”

“This is a beautiful place,” Jamie remarked, seemingly enjoying the fall landscape. Tall trees dressed in their finest foliage soared overhead and painted a mirror image on the lake’s rippling surface. New England asters bloomed in a purple perfusion of color along the various winding stone paths throughout camp and a couple of bickering squirrels squabbled over acorns. Stark white steep-roofed cottages were tucked along the lake and deep into the tree line, giving the impression of an old Colonial village.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m proud of it. It was in pretty bad shape when I first bought it. Beautiful land, of course.” She slid him a glance. “It’s not called Lake Bliss for nothing. But the buildings and landscaping were all in need of serious repair.”

“How long have you been in business?”

“This is our fourth season.”

“Season?”

“We don’t operate year-round,” she explained. “The winters are too intense and frankly, we don’t have enough business to merit being open beyond Christmas. We run camps March through November.”

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