CHAPTER 5
“I understand that Sapphira isn’t going to like being confined, sir, but under the circumstances I think it’s our best bet for keeping her safe until we’ve uncovered the source of the letters.”
Mathias Stravos, a remote robust sixty-something with tanned skin and sporting a full head of bristly salt and pepper hair, didn’t respond at first. The man was too busy staring at his computer screen to offer any sort of reply. And had been since the moment Huck had been granted entrance into his opulent office. “Damned technology,” he muttered, poking angrily at the keyboard. “Why can’t this thing run any faster?”
Given the way he’d been abusing the machine, Huck thought it was a miracle the computer hadn’t fallen apart already. Stravos had been slapping the side of the monitor as though it were a vending machine with a stuck snack. He inwardly grimaced. Not exactly the best way to handle delicate equipment. Clearly finesse and patience weren’t part of his character make-up.
Quite frankly, for reasons he didn’t know but trusted nonetheless, he didn’t like the man. He was arrogant, entitled and cold. Had he always been that way? he wondered. Or had his son’s suicide precipitated the change?
Whatever the case, he hadn’t been able to miss the flash of fear he’d caught in Sapphira’s eyes when he’d announced his intention to go and talk with her father. What exactly was she afraid of? Huck wondered, intrigued. Her father? After meeting the man he could certainly see why she’d find him intimidating, but fear? It was all very strange.
“I hired your company to protect my daughter. If I wanted to make her a prisoner I would have confined her myself.”
And no doubt he could have done it as well, Huck thought, oddly chilled. He’d gotten a strange vibe regarding Sapphira’s father from the moment he arrived, but now that same premonition was ringing so hard he could feel it rattling his spine.
“I’m not talking about making her a prisoner,” Huck felt compelled to point out, his tone even and firm. “I’m talking about keeping her safe. Taking the dog to the groomer, in my opinion, is an unnecessary risk until we’ve isolated the threat. Furthermore, it’s hard to focus on the investigation if I’m chaperoning a shopping trip. Frankly it’s an unwarranted hazard and a waste of my time and your money.” He shrugged, unconcerned. He sure as hell wasn’t afraid of him. “However if you want me to continue--”
“No, no,” he interrupted impatiently, once again whacking the computer. The man had yet to look him in the eye, an indirect insult and overall lack of respect. “That won’t be necessary. All trips out of the compound are at your discretion. I’ll see to it that Sapphira doesn’t give you any trouble.” Huck didn’t detect the slightest bit of fatherly affection in the man’s voice and it put him instantly on guard on Sapphira’s behalf. Why? Who the hell knew? But it was a gut-check reaction and he knew better than to ignore it.
“That won’t be necessary. I don’t anticipate her giving me any trouble.”
At that, Stravos finally looked up and a flash of unreadable emotion washed over his lined face. “Then you obviously don’t have children, otherwise you would know that they are nothing but trouble.” His gaze drifted over to a photograph on his desk, presumably of his son, and grew shuttered. “Good evening, Mr. Finn. I’ll expect daily reports of your progress.”
Summarily dismissed, Huck stood and made his way out, thankful that the bizarre meeting was over. At any rate, he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, which was putting an end to Sapphira’s ridiculous running around. While the local economy might take a little hit, he considered it a public service. The unkind thought made him smile, but he’d had so little pleasure today he’d take it where he could get it.
Honestly, he didn’t know when he’d ever met anyone quite like her. For the majority of the day she’d been a monumental pain in the ass, but occasionally he’d caught an unmistakable glimpse of intelligence and humor lurking behind those interesting green eyes, shaping the curve of that kissable mouth.
One he’d looked at entirely too much over the course of their afternoon.
She had the most expressive face, Huck thought, reluctantly intrigued. How many times had he watched her lift that little chin? Those lips tremble with a smile? Her eyes widen in outrage or narrow in irritation? And she had this way of barely cocking her head in bewilderment that, to his horror, he found absolutely adorable.
Kittens were adorable, dammit.
And she was no kitten.
In fact, the only thing cat-like about her was that sultry feline smile that made him think of warm breath and puckered nipples, of welcoming thighs and a shadowed belly-button. He paused on the path back to her house and swore, waiting for the fire in his loins to subside.
Things he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about--particularly with her.
Huck looked toward her house and saw her through the tall windows which marched across the front of her Grecian cottage. Despite the balmy heat, she’d opened the shutters and white gauzy curtains fluttered in the evening breeze. A ceiling fan swirled overhead, blowing strands of mocha-colored hair around her face. She sat curled up in a chair, the phone pressed to her ear. Her face was an exasperated mask of worry and irritation. The irritation he understood--he’d caused it. But the worry...
It was genuine.
She wasn’t worried about the threatening letters, but was worried about not going to the beauty parlor or to the mall? Surely not, Huck thought. Despite all the evidence to the contrary today, he knew she had a deeper character than that. The question was...why was she trying to hide it?
His cell vibrated at his waist. “Finn,” he answered.
McCann laughed into his ear. “You are a friggin’ genius. I’m lifting a longneck in your honor right now.”
Confused, Huck chuckled and passed a hand over his face. “Thanks, but I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Putting Princess Pain in the Ass under house arrest,” he all but crowed. “Brilliant, my man. Simply brilliant.”
He frowned. “How did you know--“
“She called a few minutes ago and asked Payne to come back. She told him that you were an ‘insufferable boorish clod’ and she could not deal with you.”
Huck glared at her through the window, then set off at a faster clip toward her house. He made a point of stomping up the steps to alert her of his presence. “Oh, really?” he asked, pushing into room. Sapphira scrambled to get off the phone and shot him another inconvenienced grimace. “An insufferable boorish clod? That’s certainly a new one,” he drawled, pinning her with his gaze. He stalked purposely toward her.
He had the privilege of watching a blush spread up her neck and over her cheeks.
“Aside for asking for a replacement, did she say anything else?”
“Just that you’d put her under house arrest and she couldn’t work with you, that one of us would have to return. Payne was very diplomatic in that he didn’t tell her we’d all rather have our nuts exposed to a flesh-eating virus first.” He chuckled darkly. “He just told her that the three of us were busy with other clients and that she would simply have to ‘make do.’ That if you thought she should was safer within the compound that she should respect your opinion.”
Huck snorted. “I’ll bet that went over like a lead balloon.”
“She wasn’t happy, no. What did her father say? She’d said you’d gone to talk to him.”
“Her father agreed with me and said he would make sure that Sapphira didn’t give me any trouble.”
No doubt about it, Huck thought, as he watched another shadow move over her eyes. That was fear.
Intrigued, he studied her for a moment, searched her face for anymore clues. “I told him that wouldn’t be necessary, that I was perfectly capable of making sure she stayed in line.”
“No doubt you can handle her,” McCann said, seemingly impressed. “You’ve sure as hell done a better job of dealing with her than we did. Have I mentioned how glad I am that you’ve joined our team?”
Huck smiled. “It’s not feeling like a team at the moment, McCann. More like every man for himself.”
Guy laughed. “Yeah, well. It is what it is. We’ll work our end and you work yours.”
“You got it.” He disconnected and stared down at her, waiting for her to say something.
She didn’t. Just glared up at him with an embarrassed but mutinous expression.
“You asked for a replacement?” he said, practically chewing the words. Throttling her was beginning to look really good. Granted, her phone call had gone in his favor, but...
“You tattled to Daddy?” she shot back.
“I didn’t tattle to your father--I apprised him of the new developments.”
“Call it what you want, Huck, it was still a shitty thing to do.” She shoved her hair out of her face. “I’m not twelve, dammit.”
He pulled a shrug, conveniently ignoring the truth of her statement. Talking to Stravos had been a bit like ratting her out, but truth be told, he’d really just wanted to meet the man and get a feel for him. “Then act like it,” he told her.
She shot him another dirty look, then abruptly stood and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a ‘fuck you.’ Though he should have been offended, he had to smother a smile.
“Where are you going?” he asked, as she headed for the door.
“To eat. I’m hungry.”
“Me, too. What are we having?”
“I’m having Ella’s red beans and rice.” She smiled sweetly. “You can eat shit.”
* * *
“Honestly, child, you can’t expect me to the let the man sit in my house, but not have anything to eat,” Ella chided, moments later as Sapphira loaded her plate full of the steaming Cajun dish Ella had made for their dinner. “It’s unkind.”
“Who said he had to sit in the house?” she asked. “You’ve got a perfectly good swing on the front porch.”
Small but strong, Ella paused and considered her with those wise blue eyes. “You didn’t mind if the other three put their feet under my table. Why can’t this one?”
Sapphira harrumphed, still annoyed. She plopped down into her chair and squeezed a wedge of lemon into her sweet tea. “This one has put me under house arrest.”
Ella started. “What?”
“Starting tomorrow, I can’t leave the house unless he approves of the errand. I have to have his friggin’ permission to leave.”
“Language, Sapphira,” she scolded, her brow wrinkling. Her eyes suddenly twinkled and knowing smile curled her lips. “I take it this one didn’t like all the shopping and whatnot.”
“The other ones didn’t like it either, but they did it.”
Ella made a little humph. “All that says to me is that this one is smarter than the rest.”
Outraged, Sapphira’s eyes widened. “Ella, how can you say that? He’s making me a prisoner!” she hissed.
“No, he’s not. He’s clipping your wings. Frankly, after the heck you put the others through, I think it’s no less than you deserve.”
Sapphira felt her shoulders droop. “If I wasn’t so hungry I’d lose my appetite.” She picked at a piece of rice with her fork. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side, child,” she soothed. “If you remember, I never agreed with your ‘solution’ to get rid of your body guards.”
That was putting it mildly. Ella had thought her PITA plan had been ‘pure rubbish.’ She’d never approved. Still, was a little support from her dearest friend a too much to ask for? Having Huck screen all of her errands was seriously going to cramp her already twisted style. How was she supposed to take care of her duties for Belle Charities? Mentor? Be there for Carmen? She’d skimmed the reports McCann, Payne and Flanagan had submitted to her father. Other than bathroom breaks, they accounted for every minute of her day. If she went about her normal routine, her father would cut her off so quick her head would spin.
And then what?
What would all of the people dependent on her help do? Her so-called salary helped feed families, covered health insurance. There was nothing frivolous about those expenditures, dammit, regardless of what Huck thought about her dog having her nails painted.
Honestly, at this point, Sapphira didn’t know what to do. Going about business as usual wasn’t an option. Confronting her father wasn’t an option. Her only hope at this point was that the letters would stop coming and her father would decide to remove her security detail.
Then and only then would she have her life back.
“Mr. Finn,” Ella called. “Would you like to join us?”
Huck appeared in the doorway so fast it was almost funny. He smiled at Ella. “Thank you, I would.” He took the seat opposite her. “It smells wonderful.”
“Aw, it’s just a little red beans and rice,” Ella said, blushing at the praise.
Damned charmer, Sapphira thought, feeling her toes curl into her shoes. Despite the aromatic dish she could smell Huck above the food, that same woodsy, musky scent that had been driving her insane all day. Furthermore, though she was exhausted--and knew he had to be as well because nothing wore a body out faster than good old-fashioned boredom--Huck, damn him, seemed sharp. The limp she’d noticed earlier had vanished, probably from sheer force of will, Sapphira decided, inwardly impressed.
She knew she’d struck a nerve when she’d mentioned it, and could tell the ache was more than just physical. His soul was wounded as well. What had happened to him? she wondered. Was the new scar on his cheek related to the leg injury? As a former Ranger, had he been wounded in action? Or had it been something as unfortunate as a car accident? For reasons which escaped her, she suddenly had to know. Of course, considering she’d just told the man to eat shit, he probably wasn’t interested in confiding close personal details about himself to her, Sapphira thought, inwardly smiling.
Ever the southern hostess, Ella loaded Huck’s plate and filled his glass, then set both down in front of him. Thirty seconds later she’d blessed the meal and the only sound was the scrape of a fork against a plate.
Huck hummed impressively under his breath. “Ms. Ella, this is wonderful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Sapphira and I usually eat supper together, so feel free to join us anytime. There’s always plenty.” She paused. “That’s a southern accent. What part of the south are you from?”
He took a sip of tea. “I’m from Georgia as well--Red Rock. Just a bit west of Savannah.”
“I’ve heard of Red Rock,” Ella said. “Sweet little town. You’ve got family there?” She wasn’t being nosy, merely polite, which Huck seemed to recognize because, after darting her a look, he answered Ella’s question.
“Just my mom and grandmother,” he said casually, though she did notice that his fingers tightened around his fork. “My mother was a maid for years, but has since opened a cookie bakery. If I’m still here on Friday, I’ll share a few with you. She sends a care package every week,” he confided. “My grandmother is a retired seamstress. She and my mom recently moved into Savannah.”
His mother had been a maid? Sapphira thought, surprised. If she’d been treated unfairly, then that could certainly account for a bit of the distain she’d picked up on. And no mention of a father? Another telling omission she filed away for future reference.
Sapphira smiled. “A cookie bakery? Really? I’ve always wished that I could bake.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Ella chimed in with a knowing chuckle. “Sapphira knows her way around the kitchen, she just doesn’t like to eat alone.”
That disturbingly intuitive gaze slid to hers and caught. He didn’t say a word and yet she knew what he was thinking, could tell he wanted to know why she ate with Ella instead of her father. Sapphira quirked a pointed brow at him, daring him to ask. Go ahead, Huck. Then I’ll ask about your father and see how you like it.
“Really?” he said after a slight pause. “I’ll have to see if I can get her to cook something for me.” He winced thoughtfully. “Of course, there’s always the chance that she’d season it with arsenic, so I’d better not.”
Ella chuckled and Sapphira felt a reluctant laugh bubble up her own throat as well. “No doubt you’d survive,” she said. “Roaches are like that, too.”
Huck’s eyes twinkled at the insult and he chewed the corner of his mouth. “You’re in fine form tonight. Are you always this pleasant?”
She batted her lashes at him. “I’m making a special effort just for you.”
He laughed again, seemingly startled at her candor. “Somehow I figured as much. Try not to tax yourself too much though, because if you break a nail you’re not going to get it repaired.” Much to her irritation, he delivered the remark with a pointed grin.
“Ah, back to my incarceration, are we?”
“Sapphira, Mr. Finn is merely doing his job,” Ella said, the ever-present voice of reason. “He’s trying to keep you safe.”
Sapphira darted him a perturbed look. “Yeah, but he’s enjoying it a little too much.”
He shrugged, trying once again not to smile. That sensual mouth curved ever so wickedly around the edges. “You make it so easy.”
Ella’s shrewd gaze bounced between them consideringly. “Have you had any luck determining the source of the letters?” she asked.
“Not yet. But we will,” he added confidently.
Sapphira made a doubtful moue because she knew it would annoy him. “I tell ya, at this point I’m just hoping the letters stop so that my guards are released and I’m a free woman again.”
He ignored the jibe. “How long has it been since the last one? A week?”
“Yes. I’m going to give it a couple more days, but if I don’t get another letter, I think I can convince my father to suspend your services.”
Ella harrumphed. “I’m surprised he hired anyone to start with.”
Sapphira watched Huck’s gaze sharpen and once again he reminded her of a disturbingly large bird of prey. “Oh?” he prodded.
“Ella,” Sapphira cautioned with a dark look.
“He’s met your father,” she said. “It’s no secret that he doesn’t like being inconvenienced. He should have been the one looking into this for you. But can he be bothered? No,” she said, clearly irritated. She shook her head and tsked under her breath. “That man lost his soul when Nicky died, and I’ve about given up hope that he’ll get it back.”
It was true Sapphira knew. Her father had never been particularly affectionate when she’d been growing up, but there had been moments when she’d known she was loved. In all honesty, she couldn’t say she’d felt so much as a brush of affection from him since Nicky passed away. Her gaze slid to Huck, who’d gone quiet. He knew about her brother, she was sure. They all did. It would have been in any background research they’d done on her family.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” he finally said. “That must have been tough.”
Tough didn’t begin to cover it, Sapphira thought as her heart ached anew with the loss. In a home with two distant parents, she and Nicky had depended a lot upon each other. They’d been close. Honestly, when she’d first heard the news that he’d overdosed, the burst of anger over his leaving her--not confiding in her--was almost more potent than the grief.
A coping mechanism, her therapist had told her when she’d gone in for counseling. Whatever, Sapphira thought. In the end, none of the labels or terminology had mattered. Her only brother was gone and she was left in a world that didn’t feel particularly right without him.
Sapphira stood and collected her plate. “Let me help you clear the dishes,” she said, suddenly exhausted.
Ella made a noise of protest and took the dish out of her hand. “Another time, child. You go on home. You look a bit tired.”
Sapphira smiled down into Ella’s lined face, affection welling from deep within her chest. Oh, how she loved Ella. What on earth would she do without her? “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” She leaned in, smiled and jerked her head in Huck’s direction. “And you be nice,” she admonished.
Sapphira chuckled wearily under her breath and pressed a kiss against Ella’s lined cheek. “I’ll try.”
It was only when they’d walked outside and started down the path back to her house that Sapphira realized a whole new problem was about to begin.
Lucas Finn--all six and half feet of him, every wonderfully proportioned sex-on-feet inch--was going to be spending the night with her. Indefinitely even. And the only advice her ordinarily level-headed, conservative former nanny had to offer was “be nice.”
She whimpered as his arm brushed hers and that mesmerizing scent once again teased her nostrils. Her body did a little simmer and every nerve-ending vibrated with what she tried to tell herself was irritation.
It wasn’t.
Irritation didn’t make her nipples tingle and her sex sing. Irritation didn’t make her want to her want to slide all over him. Irritation didn’t make her want to taste the lingering flavor of red beans and rice on his sinfully beautiful mouth. Irritation didn’t make her want him. She stifled another moan as they walked through her door. The two of them. Alone in her house. In the dark of night. For hours on end.
God help her.