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Unchained by Suzanne Halliday, Jenny Sims (32)

REMY HURRIED FROM the barn and crept along like a thief in the night actively trying to avoid Finn, who’d been lurking around like a headache waiting to burst upon her at any minute.

Stopping to peer around the corner of the garage, she made sure the coast was clear and then made a mad dash for her office. Keeping her head down to avoid attention, she covered the short distance in record time.

Flying at top speed through the door, it swung shut behind her as she fled to the safety and coolness of the adobe building. Ripping off her sunglasses, she flung them aside and started toward her desk completely forgetting about Zeus.

In two seconds, she was stumbling like an acrobat over the stupid dog, lifting a leg high in an attempt to step over her, only to end up straddling the large Labrador when she suddenly got up. In the end, Remy toppled over and landed with an inelegant thud on the floor.

“Fuck. Ow,” she barked as her hip slammed against the corner of a cabinet. Zeus was on her in a flash, licking her face and doing what good dogs do—making sure everyone was okay.

“Great. On my ass, bruised hip for sure. And now dog slobber. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Am I interrupting an intimate moment?” A voice snickered.

Ah, shit. She didn’t need to look up to know it was that dickhead Finn. She’d know his voice anywhere. What the hell did he do? Materialize out of thin air?

“Fuck off, Beantown,” she muttered. Struggling to her feet, she pushed the black Lab out of the way and went to her desk chair. Zeus promptly came to her side and sat. Expectantly.

“What’s with her?” Finn asked with a jerk of his head at the watchdog.

Remy reached down and patted the dog on her head. “Ben dropped her off here when he came to get the limo. Dogs aren’t dumb, ya know. She heard Alex’s name. Now, she won’t leave my side because she knows what Ben taking the big car out means.”

She took some satisfaction from the shock on Finn’s smug-ass face and how quickly he shielded his eyes. Ha! He hadn’t known. Cool.

“So they’re finally going to grace us with an appearance.”

“Ya know, Finn … it’d be awesome if you’d take my advice and grow the fuck up. What the hell have you got against your own damn sister and her husband? A husband who, it must be said, makes all of this possible.” She finished with a wave of her hand.

They glared at each other. She’d managed not to be alone with him ever since the last time they’d seen each other. When he’d backed her against a wall and kissed her stupid.

Smug. Arrogant. Conceited. He was all that and more. Incredibly hot, Finn O’Brien was custom made from her personal wish list and nothing displeased her more. Why’d it have to be him?

Tall and lean, he had muscles everywhere, and she’d seen him without a shirt enough times to know that some of his muscles had muscles. And that seriously pissed her off. He also had a smile capable of melting the wall she kept around her emotions.

“Didn’t mean anything by it,” he snarled.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should listen to yourself sometime.”

God, it was just too damn difficult to look at him, so she squeezed her eyes shut like she had a headache and blocked him out.

“What’s the matter,” he asked sharply. “Are you okay?”

Damn. The real concern in his voice almost unraveled her.

“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my plate.” She eyed him dispassionately although she wasn’t sure how well she covered the interested gleam in her eyes. “Is there something you need,” she asked.

“Well …” he began.

She looked at him closely. Finn didn’t usually hem and haw. He was too cocky for that.

“I have this business thing coming up. Kind of a dinner.”

“What business thing?” she asked. Far as she knew, the guy was just killing time. Waiting for Major Marquez to return and possibly sign off on sending the swaggering dickhead back to Boston. Where he couldn’t get under her skin anymore.

“I, uh, met this guy and one thing led to another. Smart dude. Anyway, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity kind of fell at our feet.”

She was gaping at him and couldn’t help it. He wasn’t beating around the bush, but she could tell he was a world away from his comfort zone.

“Wait,” she blurted out with her hand up for him to stop. “What? I thought you were a paramedic or something. What sort of rare anything …” She stopped with a growl of frustration when a word didn’t appear in her mind.

He crossed his arms and peered down his fine-looking nose at her. His expression was a mask of stone, and she had the distinct impression she’d inadvertently touched a nerve.

“Being a paramedic, or a pilot,” he drawled with enough snark to raise her eyebrows, “isn’t a life sentence.”

Remy damn near glanced down at her t-shirt to see if she was wearing a bull’s-eye because damn-it-all, he’d landed that one near the center.

Inclining her head slightly to indicate she accepted his statement without argument, she stopped any further dancing around by going straight at him.

“What are you up to, Beantown?”

“Goddammit, Remy,” he growled. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

“Excuse me?” She nearly dove across the desk to smack him.

“Bitch,” he repeated. “You. A bitch. Now, shut up. I’m trying to fucking ask you out, okay?”

Was he serious? Oh, my god! He was. “Why the hell are you asking me out? Are you high?”

“Please, god. Shut up for two seconds, would you? I’m asking you out because I need a fricking date for an important business meeting.”

He was near shouting by the end, and Zeus, alarmed at his tone, stood at attention and leaned protectively closer to her leg.

“I’m not high, lady. And I’m not insane. I’m desperate, or I wouldn’t be here trying to drag a tomboy out when a real woman is what I need.”

She went around the desk so fast he hadn’t a hope in hell of avoiding her when she stepped up, hauled off, and smacked him one across the face.

“You wouldn’t know a lady if she sat on your face,” she screamed. The second she said it, Remy’s face flamed with embarrassment.

“Is that an offer?” he yelled back.

“Get your rude ass out of here,” she hollered. “Nobody speaks to me that way. I don’t care who the fuck you are or who you’re related to.”

He grabbed her wrist, pulled her close, and twisted it behind her back before she had a chance to react. Then he kissed her with a punishing hunger she couldn’t resist.

His eyes burned with a fierceness that stole her breath and rendered Remy mute.

“I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night. Be a girl, please. Wear something pretty.”

And then he left her alone. Well, not totally alone. Zeus was still standing guard waiting for her master to come home.

“Oh, my goodness,” Meghan muttered for the tenth time as she bent over the scale model of the compound and examined every little thing. “This is beyond anything I imagined.”

Ben chuckled. “We’ve been calling it the Great Justice Shuffle.”

“I love it,” she replied with a broad smile. “Oh Ben, this is fantastic!” Meghan went to the kind older man, slipped her hand through his arm, and hugged him close. “Alex will be so pleased.”

“Got it done just in time too. Betty says there’s a full house starting right after Labor Day.”

“I can’t believe it’s all finished and ready to go.”

“Well, you know how it goes,” he said with a wise snicker. “The boss wanted there to be nothing for you to do at home, so you can focus on the final touches at the family center.”

“Did you know he hasn’t let me see any of the work being done?” She shook her head and bubbled over with lighthearted glee. “Wants it to be a surprise.” Meghan clutched Ben’s arm tighter and drawled furtively, “I swear if it resembles a monument to New England, he and I will be having a talk.”

His laughter was full-hearted and full of the fondness she knew the man felt for the Marquez family.

“He’s a good man, Mrs. Marquez.”

Meghan smiled into his kind eyes. She knew he used her formal title out of respect and admiration for the man they both loved.

“Well”—she sniffed in mock offense—“he’s also a whiner, if you ask me. I mean, sheesh! By the way he carries on, you’d think I was a terrible cook or something.” Ben snorted a huge laugh and then tried to act as if he hadn’t. “All he does is blather on and on about Ria and finally getting a good home-cooked meal.”

“I think the brisket is in the oven as we speak,” he replied so drily she barked with surprise.

They exploded with laughter at the inside joke.

“Well, they seem to be having a good time,” Alex drawled after he signed the last stack of papers Parker shoved across the desk at him. “Bet that old fart is flirting with my wife.”

“Don’t worry”—his friend snickered—“he is. I slipped him a fifty to lay it on thick.”

Alex tossed the pen across the desk, instantly regretting not having pegged the asshole’s white shirt. Serve him right to end up with a huge ink stain. The pen might be a missed opportunity, but he always had one way to shove his foot up Parker’s ass without moving an inch.

“Marry my sister yet, you fucking pervert?”

Parker tapped his pen on the desk and appeared unperturbed, but Alex knew him well enough to detect the telltale jaw clench.

“Marry her? No. Collar her ass with a ring? Also, no. And you know damn well why. You’ve met her, right? She’s your sister, for Christ’s sake, and there’s no way in hell she’s gonna pass up an opportunity to rattle everyone’s collective chain with one yank.”

Tossing the pen aside, he kept ranting. “Calder was in here too. Laughing at me. That girl lives to cause trouble.”

“She doesn’t cause trouble,” he muttered. “She is trouble.” Alex sneered. “But you’re hardly a pushover, man. Are you telling me you can’t handle one twenty-something female?”

“Suck me, Marquez.”

Biting back a laugh wasn’t easy. “You want big brother to talk to her?”

Muttering irritably, his friend scowled. “No. But you will anyway.”

“Yeah, well, my dad wants this settled.”

Parker exploded. “Like my folks don’t? You know my mom. She’s so hyped about having a daughter-in-law, one she already loves like her own, that she’s on fire. They go shopping. Have lunch. Shit, man. Every week or so, they get all chummy and go have mani-pedis.”

Okay, Alex thought. Now, that is funny.

“Can we talk about something else?”

Holy shit. The guy’s shorts were in a serious knot. Tempting as it was to continue needling his friend, Alex backed off remembering all too well what it was like to be the one dragging his knuckles in the dirt back when Meghan wasn’t having any of his crap.

“Oh, shit,” Parker mumbled. “Almost forgot. You got a delivery. Saudi Arabia. Huge crate. You guys want to tell me anything? Bargain hunting in Riyadh perhaps?”

With a note of mockery in his voice, he drawled, “Guaranteed it’s a peace offering from that smarmy prince. The one with the questionable history.”

“Oh, shit. You mean Prince Little-Prick al Fuckwad? Who moved the rock? I thought he was on the no-fly list as far as Justice is concerned.”

“He is. Permanently. But he fucked up big time and the CIA trumps Justice. Somehow, he ended up running one of their black site dog and pony shows. Now that it’s a shitstorm, they’re vetting options for a fix.”

Parker whistled. “Whoa. For real?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Come on. You were DOJ long enough to know how this goes.”

Parker hastily leaned forward and crossed his arms on the desk. Speaking quietly, he asked, “How deep are you?”

He rolled a shoulder. “Up to my chin.”

“Anything your attorney needs to know about? And if you say one word about making sure your will is up-to-date, I’m having you kidnapped and put in a safe house.”

“Nothing to report yet but they’ve assured me that if my unusual expertise is needed on the ground, I’ll be in and out before anyone knows I’m gone.”

“What’s Red got to say?”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

“Is that wise?”

Of course, it wasn’t, but he was cranking open the information vault an inch at a time.

“I don’t want her overwhelmed.”

Parker nodded but gave him a bit of shade. “She knows the compound has morphed into a traveling carny show, right? Jesus, Alex. That brother of hers needs a serious thumping. Have fun getting his ass in line.”

“I’ve filled her in. More or less. Finn. Cameron. Gus. Brody. And some other things.”

“Those other things have anything to do with the St. Johns?”

Alex gritted his teeth. He hadn’t expected Parker to bring it up. Meant things were more fucked up than he knew. “How bad is it?”

“Dude. For real. A crystal ball would be nice because those two are like a reality TV show. Changes week by week. And Drae? Fuck. He’s acting weird—and not the usual weird. But he isn’t talking. Has a bad case of that stoic bullshit going on. And Tori. Holy god. She’s like dealing with Sybil. In one five-minute conversation, she can play three different parts.”

“I think we came home just in time.”

More laughter rang out just on the other side of Parker’s office door. Meghan. She sounded so happy. And carefree.

He was going to have to keep a careful eye on what landed in her lap once they were back in the saddle at the Villa. Things were going really well at the moment, and he didn’t want anything to rock their happy boat.