Whatever It Takes (11 page)

Kathleen liked her immediately.

“What a delight it is to meet you, Miss Callahan.”

Kathleen shook the older woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure. But please call me Kathleen.”

“When Mr. Eli told me what you’d done, I was so impressed. Where did you learn to do such a thing?”

Truth wasn’t always the way to go. Not when it involved telling the older woman that her father had been the renowned thief Daniel Callahan, who had taught both his daughters many skills of the trade.

“It comes in handy when assessing structures for security issues.”

If Teresa noticed the non-answer, she gave no indication. “I’m sure it does.” She beamed up at Eli. “Lunch is already set for you in the small dining room. You let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Thank you, Teresa.” Eli glanced at Kathleen. “Shall we?”

She gave Teresa another smile and then followed Eli into the small, cozy dining room. It had a homey and relaxed décor, very different from the formal dining room, which held a table large enough to feed twenty-four and enough ornamentation to suit a royal family. Kathleen much preferred this room, not only for its simplicity, but also because it was obviously the place where Eli and his daughters had many of their meals. A booster chair sat in the corner. Coloring books and crayon boxes were on the sideboard. The knowledge that Eli ate here with his children made her feel less nervous. If she could look at him as a father, instead of a sexy, gorgeous, desirable man, she would be much better off.

He pulled out a chair for her and then sat to her left. With determination, she forced herself to relax. This was a business luncheon with a client. She would ask him about the concern for his children’s safety, they would enjoy this delicious-looking Cobb salad that Teresa had prepared, and then she would go home.

She took a sip of tea, delighted that it had just the right amount of sweetness. 

“Kathleen?”

She lifted her head. “Yes?”

“I’d like you to come work for me.”

Chapter Eleven

She looked at him as though he’d spoken a foreign language. He could have prepared her beforehand, mentioned earlier what was on his mind, but he’d known she would turn him down flat, without giving it a moment of thought. This way, while she ate lunch, he’d have a chance to convince her to say yes.

“Work for you? I don’t understand. I already have a job.”

“This wouldn’t be full time. Just a few hours each day.” 

“Doing what?”

“Personal security.”

“You mean bodyguard services?” 

“That’s something you’re trained in, right?”

“Yes. The security company I worked for in Denver provided that service.”

“I need another bodyguard.”

“I’m sure Grey could get you the names of some excellent security companies.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for. I already have those kinds of bodyguards. I don’t need another one.”

“Then what are you looking for?”

“I want you to guard my children.”

If he’d told her he was an alien and wanted to take her away to his faraway planet, Eli doubted she would have looked more surprised…or appalled.

The words “not just no, but hell no” were the first that came to Kathleen’s mind. Every instinct she owned was telling her to leave the table and get the hell away from this man. He disturbed her on way too many different levels already. No way, no how, would she ever want to be charged with protecting his children. 

Correctly interpreting that she was about to say no, he held up his hand. “Hear me out. My daughters are in school from eight until three thirty. You wouldn’t need to be there with them all day. I already have a man who guards the school. Once they’re home, I can protect them.”

Moving the plate in front of him out of the way, Eli folded his arms on the table. “Truth is, I have three bodyguards for them already.”

“Well, then…?” She looked at him questioningly.

“I want to give my children the most normal life possible. I can’t do that when they’re surrounded by giant, ferocious-looking men. I need someone who’s not going to scare them…someone they can trust.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of female bodyguards who wouldn’t scare them.” Even though she wasn’t even remotely considering taking the job, she had to ask, “Are your children in danger?”

“Yes.”

“Explain.”

“Do you know about my family? About my father and brother?”

She’d spent hours learning about the Slaters over the last few days. Refusing to go too deeply into just how much research she’d done, she just said, “I know before your father was killed and your brother was imprisoned, they were guilty of a lot of things, including conspiracy to commit murder, extortion, money laundering, and pandering.”

“I’ve spent the better part of a year cleaning up their messes. I thought it was over. I had hoped it was behind us, and then I started getting these.”

He pulled some folded papers from his jeans’ pocket and handed them to her.

She read through them, becoming more chilled with each email. She certainly understood his concern.

“Any idea who’s sending them?”

“I have some theories, but nothing’s panned out. Until I know who and why, until I can destroy or neutralize the threat, I want my children under protection.”

“The protection is wise. But why me?” 

“I’ve done my research, Kathleen. I know one of your primary jobs in Denver was protecting children.”

“Then you also must know what happened on my last job protecting a child. She almost died.”

“You saved her life. I not only talked to the security company you worked for, I talked to Emily’s parents. They all agreed you saved that little girl’s life.”

Yes, that’s what she’d been told, but if she’d done a better job, her life wouldn’t have had to be saved in the first place. When Alice had admitted that she believed Frank was responsible, Kathleen had reached out to her former employer, as well as Emily’s parents. Though it had sickened her, and she felt even guiltier than she had before, she’d felt the need to let them know.

“I happen to disagree with them, but that’s not the point. I can’t guard your children.” She scooted her chair back, preparing to leave. “Thank you for lunch.”

He grabbed her hand, preventing her from moving. “Why not? You have the credentials. The training.”

“I just don’t want to do that kind of work anymore. And I already have a job.”

“I know you work on a freelance basis with Grey, so you have plenty of flexibility. I would need you at the most four hours a day. An hour or so in the morning when the girls go to school. An hour or so in the afternoon when they get out. Once they’re home, the house with the new security, along with my full-time bodyguards, will protect them.”

“And the weekends? What about then? Don’t they go to parks, or the zoo? Movies? Ice cream shop?”

“They’ll be with me.” He said that with quiet assurance. He could protect his own.

She nodded. “You handled yourself with those thugs in Chicago. Where did you get your training?”

“Mathias, my father, insisted that all his boys know how to defend themselves. The thought of one of us being beaten up by a bully went against everything he believed in. Hell…maybe because he was such a bully himself. I don’t know. I took it a step further when I went to university in England. I got into boxing and then mixed martial arts.”

“Are you weapons trained?”

“Another skill Mathias insisted all his children learn.”

“Your daughters are obviously well protected. Any threats other than the emails? Have you seen anyone loitering at the school? Playgrounds? Anything like that?”

“Not what I would call a specific threat. But at least once a week, sometimes more if it’s a slow news week, a photographer or reporter will pop up. Two of them came after us the other day. Scared Sophia. My personal security can take care of these slimeballs, but I need someone up close and personal. I want someone who can not only protect my daughters, but can do so without scaring them. I want that person to be you.”

She tried to give him another out. “You barely know me. Just because you saw me in the courtroom…you can’t know me.”

“Very well. Tell me about yourself.”

She went to rise, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. His hand was still holding her wrist, and he squeezed gently. She glanced down. The contrast between his large, masculine hand and her small, pale one was a surprise. So was the gentleness, as well as the control.

“Don’t like to talk about yourself? Very well, let me tell you what I know. What I saw in that courtroom was courage, poise, tenacity, and a wealth of love I hadn’t seen in a long while. Your and your sister’s lives were torn apart for public consumption. No stone unturned, no heartache too painful to be bared. Yet you stood there and took it because to do otherwise is not in you.”

“She was my sister,” Kathleen said faintly. “How could I do anything else but?”

“Exactly.”

“What does that have to do with me guarding your children?”

“Nothing other than you’ve got stamina and grit. Qualities I greatly admire.”

“But still—”

“I read some of your college essays. You’re very big on patriotism. The need to protect is instinctive.”

“My essays? How on earth… You had no right to—”

“My children mean the world to me. Whomever I ask to protect them has to be researched thoroughly. Based on those essays, I was surprised you didn’t join the military. And then I thought, no, you wouldn’t. You had to take care of your sister. So you put aside your needs once again.”

“Alice had to come first.”

“Why such a strong affinity for the military? Your father never served, did he?”

“One of my foster fathers did.” She shot him a resentful glare. “Apparently, that’s something you couldn’t dig into.”

“He must have made quite an impression on you.”

“He did. I didn’t have the best experience with foster care. But my last family, Rocky and Georgia Lester, were the best. Rocky was a former marine. He’s the one who taught me how to defend myself. Instilled in me the confidence to succeed.”

“It must have been hard for you to leave them, when your father was released from prison.”

She still remembered the desolation. She’d been torn between returning to her father and her sister—being a real family again—and leaving the two people who’d come to mean so much to her.

“It was hard, but we kept in touch. They moved to Colorado when Georgia retired from teaching. Rocky opened a security company.”

“That’s why you moved to Denver. To work for him.”

“I thought of them as family.”

“Are they still there?”

“No. Georgia died a couple of years ago. Rocky about a year ago. When he retired, he sold his company to Bankhead Security.”

“I’m sure you miss them.”

The gentleness in his tone pulled her from her memories. She’d never talked about Rocky and Georgia, not even to her father or Alice. Those were her memories to treasure. 

She waved her hand as if to wipe away the past. “That has nothing to do with this. There are plenty of female bodyguards who are more than qualified to do this job. You don’t need it to be me.”

“Perhaps. Except it’s you I want. You are the perfect person to do this job.” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” 

When she didn’t answer, he gave her one of those charming, winning smiles that both warmed and scared her at the same time. 

“Look, come with me to pick them up today. If you decide after you meet them that you can’t do it, I won’t argue with you again.”

Once he saw that just because she had the training didn’t mean his kids would take to her, they could move on. He would accept that it wouldn’t work out, and then she would never have to see Eli Slater again. 

Refusing to dwell on why that thought disturbed her, she said, “Fine, I’ll meet your daughters.”

The light in his eyes told her he believed he’d already won the argument. 

Chapter Twelve

Dark golden liquid swirled in the glass, its murky depths a reflection of the life he lived, the life he’d chosen. Grey took a long swallow of his drink. He rarely drank alcohol, especially at this time of day. Dulling his senses had always seemed like a waste of time to him. If you didn’t like your life—had to drink to cope—then you damn well needed to change your life. Drinking did nothing but add to your problems. But now? Hell, this situation just called for a strong one. Maybe two.

 His eyes flickered to the map he’d dropped on the table. He’d told himself a million times that he was wrong. She would never be so bold, so careless…so damn cold. He’d seen her humanity, her heart. He’d seen the guilt she’d suffered. These cold acts of violence went against everything he believed about her. But the evidence was here, staring up at him with accusing knowledge. He couldn’t deny, prevaricate, make excuses. Refusing to face reality would be pointless. He’d heard from all his sources, in both Ireland and England, and they had confirmed his worst fears. She had been seen, identified.

He slammed the glass onto the table, ignoring the slosh of liquid that fell onto the map. Surging to his feet, he strode to the one place he could still feel her presence, the one place where he could still convince himself she wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. Pushing open the door, he stepped into her bedroom and closed it behind him. This time of day, he was alone, but he would take no chances. No one belonged in this room but he and Irelyn.

He had been stupid enough to believe that she might come back to him. That once she dealt with the blow—with the awful thing he’d forced her to do—she would realize there had been no other choice and she would return to him. That had been over a year ago.

Other than his housekeeper, no one had been in this room since she’d left. At one time, he had planned to discard everything, but he hadn’t been able to go through with it. The finality hadn’t been something he could abide. So he’d kept the room just as she liked it. This room embodied Irelyn Raine’s personality more so than anything else he had of her. He hadn’t been able to let go.