Chapter 3
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Blake Morgan here? The man who still haunted her dreams no matter how she tried to replace him? Who had dumped her like day-old coffee after a night filled with promise? That Blake Morgan? The unexpected punch of lust froze her for a moment.
As long as she hadn’t seen him all these years, she could bury the hurt feelings and the anger at what he’d done, right along with her unfulfilled yearning. Unfortunately, those feelings consumed her too damn often and had lasted too damn long. Who could be so stupid they still longed for a man they’d barely had a relationship with?
Her, apparently, no matter how much she tried to make it go away all these years.
“This isn’t going to work.”
The words were out of Sam’s mouth before she could stop them. She probably should have found a more professional way to say them. Better yet, she should have asked her the client’s name before agreeing to do this.
Avery stared at her. “Excuse me?”
Sam cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I should have put that in a more businesslike fashion. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you assigned another agent to Mr. Morgan.”
Blake just stared, her words obviously a shock to him. Then his lips curled in that very sexy grin that she’d never been quite able to forget. Along with the press of his body against hers on the dance floor, or the warmth of his hand when he held hers. The touch of his mouth and the heat of his kiss. His brown eyes, so dark they seemed almost black, with little gold flecks that caught the light, were focused on her now so intently the nerves on the surface of her skin tingled. The air between them shimmered with suppressed sexual tension and Sam needed every bit of her learned discipline to maintain control.
Fifteen years, she thought. Fifteen years since she had last seen Blake Morgan and still every pulse point throbbed with jubilation at the sight of him. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat and sloppy, or lost his hair, or any of the things that would have made him unattractive to her? But no, he had to turn into sex-on-a-stick, and a very successful stick at that. He had been very appealing then, but now maturity had given a richness to his look. He was still lean but his body was now corded with muscle, something she found strange. She knew he was a writer. Everyone in Arrowhead Bay knew of his success. But she’d figured he spent his days in front of a computer. His face still had that carved-out-of-granite look and sported a closely trimmed beard that she found incredibly sexy. Age had made him even more ruggedly masculine.
How was it possible the stupid teenage crush she’d had on him all those years ago had never gone away? And that’s all it was, she repeated over and over in her head. Nothing more than a teenage crush, based on one night. Just one night.
At that time she’d been so thrilled that hot, hot Blake Morgan had taken her to a dance. If she’d gone out with him again, she probably would have ended up hating him, something she’d never stopped telling herself. Actually, it was more like trying to convince herself, if she was completely honest. But she’d been lying to herself then and she was lying to herself now. Especially when she could never seem to erase the memory of his kisses.
She needed to forget about the feel of his hard body pressed against hers, the surge of teenage hormones that made her want him with an inappropriate desperation. Instead she should remember how quickly he’d dropped her after that. Well, now she had a chance to return the favor.
Damn it! Stop this, Sam. That was all years ago and you were sixteen, for God’s sake. You’re an adult, supposedly a disciplined one. You’re past the age of romantic daydreams. Where’s your discipline? Get your shit together, so you don’t embarrass yourself or Vigilance.
But lord, it didn’t help that he was the best thing she’d looked at in a long time.
Avery glanced from one to the other. “I take it you two know each other?”
“We dated in high school,” Blake told her, a smile still teasing his lips.
“Dated?” Sam made an effort to even out her tone of voice. “Uh, not exactly. One date. One dance. That was it. Just the one night.”
She hoped she sounded calm and collected. No way did she want anyone to see the shock she felt at facing Blake Morgan again after all these years.
Avery looked from one to the other. “So you two know each other. That might make this easier.”
Sam felt her control slipping.
“Yes, we went to high school together. Sort of. But we didn’t exactly part friends, so this might not work out. Sorry, Avery. It’s probably better if you assign someone else to this case.”
“But you don’t even know what kind of case it is,” Blake pointed out to her.
She ignored him and focused on Avery. “I’m assuming it’s a security job, since that’s a good part of what we do.”
“It is.” Avery nodded. “But there are some specific requirements of the person assigned to it.”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Blake needs someone to travel with him who can also function as his personal assistant. It makes for a very good cover and will allow you access to all facets of his routine without looking out of place and generating questions from people. Marcy and Lora are both on assignment and neither of the guys I have available could pass muster on that.”
Shit!
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Now what? Could she carry it off? She certainly had the background for it in spades, but could she be aloof and professional? Be around him and not want to constantly kick his ass for the way he’d treated her all those years ago?
Get over it, Samantha. We were teenagers, for God’s sake. All that is in the past, anyway, so put it there where it belongs.
“I’d consider it a personal favor.” Blake’s voice, still as smooth as melted chocolate, interrupted her thoughts. “Avery read me your background information and you’re almost overqualified. It would really ease my mind a lot to have you on my team.”
“I’m not…” She stopped and wet her lips.
Avery motioned to her. “Why don’t you come in and sit down. Let me fill you in on what’s needed. I’m sure the two of you can get past whatever history you had in high school. You’re both adults. And I think you’ll find this interesting, Sam.”
Translation: quit acting like an ass and embarrassing me or I’ll assign you to guard a scientist in Antarctica.
“Of course.” Putting on her best impersonal demeanor, she took the chair next to Blake. Maybe this was her chance, after all these years, to show him he meant nothing to her. That right now he was just a Vigilance client. Period. “And Avery, I apologize for the knee-jerk reaction.”
Avery gave her what the other Vigilance agents called “The Look.”
Sam knew she’d hear about this later. A relaxed environment was only good to a point. There were specific rules about behavior in front of clients. Or anyone else, for that matter.
“I apologize, Blake.” Avery slid a glance at Sam that felt like the edge of a knife scraping over her.
Sam cleared her throat. “I apologize, too. And of course I’m happy to take the assignment.” She stole a look at Blake. “Whatever you need, Vigilance can provide it better than anyone else.”
Avery gave an unladylike snort then looked at her notes. “Let me fill you in on everything.”
Half an hour later, Sam had been thoroughly briefed on everything. Despite whatever resentment she harbored toward Blake Morgan, she was well aware how serious something like this was and how much worse it could become.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Blake.” She wet her lips. “I’ll make sure you’re well protected. I’m really very good at my job.”
One corner of his mouth twitched in a half-grin. “So I understand.”
“Where are you staying while you’re in town?” Avery asked. “With your folks or at the B and B?”
“They’re out of town on a cruise. I’ve got a key and the run of the house. Much preferred to the B and B, as lovely as it is.”
“Alrighty, then.” She pulled a folder from a drawer. “I have some paperwork here for you. Then I suggest the two of you go someplace for a late lunch and, Blake, you can fill Sam in on what kind of schedule you have and what a PA does for you. If people see the two of you together, you can just be two old acquaintances catching up with each other.”
Sam didn’t dare tell her boss that anyone who might remember all those years ago would know they were anything but acquaintances. But fifteen years had passed, so it was old news by now. And she was dreaming to think anyone would remember or even care that Blake Morgan had taken Samantha Quenel to a Valentine’s dance, dumped her and continued to ignore her after that.
“Sounds good to me.” He flashed that smile again.
Sam went to fetch her purse while Blake signed his contract and gave Avery what she knew was a big fat check for a retainer. For this to work she’d have to set some definite boundaries. For herself as well as for Blake. When he came out of the office she pasted on what she hoped was her most professional smile.
“Do you have any preference as to where you’d like to go?” She looked at her watch. “The lunch crowd should be thinning out so we can probably catch a table almost anyplace.”
“I always try to hit the Driftwood.”
Sam nodded. “They still have the best seafood in town. Of course, you’re probably used to eating at all the best places with the rest of the elite crowd.”
His smile dimmed. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I do? In what way?”
The look in his eyes was intense. “I’m still Blake Morgan from Arrowhead Bay. My father still sells insurance, my mother still works a couple of days a week as a home health care nurse. I write books that suddenly a lot of people are buying and for that I’m very grateful. But I don’t consider myself any kind of elite.”
Sam bit her lip. She had to stop her mouth from running away on its own. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I don’t usually mouth off to Vigilance clients. Avery would hand me my ass in two pieces.”
He smiled again, the same smile that had melted her when she was a teenager only now it was more mature and a whole lot sexier. And, despite her resolve, it still had the same effect on her. How the hell was she supposed to handle this?
Because you’re a mature adult, former military, and a highly trained bodyguard.
Oh, yeah, bodyguard. I’ll be guarding his body.
“Sam?”
With a start, she realized he was talking to her, a quizzical look on his face, and she had no idea what he’d been saying.
“Uh, the Driftwood would be great for lunch.”
“I’ll drive.” He opened the door. “Ladies first.”
Sam stole a look at him as he buckled himself in and started the car. The man he’d grown to be had a richness about him, a strength that the younger Blake had been missing. It hadn’t taken anything more than seeing and listening to him to tell her that.
It wasn’t just the sexual attraction, although God knew it was there in spades. Her entire body thrummed with need for him. This was the kind of man you could settle into life with, and it stunned her to realize that after not seeing him for more than fifteen years, her mind and her body had a sudden need and craving for him.
How on earth was she going to handle this assignment? She didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing. She certainly didn’t want Avery to know that the minute she’d laid eyes on Blake that the feelings she’d been hiding all these years popped out like a jack-in-the-box. Very bad form.
She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Feeling. They were silent on the short drive. She had expected a barrage of questions that didn’t come. She wondered if he was as busy with his thoughts as she was with hers. What an unlikely twist of fate this was.
Well, if she’d learned anything in the military it was discipline, something she needed right now. Something that would help her deal with that same sizzle from all those years ago that now snapped and crackled its way through her body and made her pulse leap into overdrive. They’d have to talk about this. No way they could go on ignoring what was sure to be the elephant in the room. She swallowed a sigh as they turned into the parking lot.
The Driftwood was a mainstay in Arrowhead Bay. Owned by the same people as Bayside Marina, it drew a steady business from both locals as well as people docking at the marina, whether for a day or a week or even longer. A place where people also went to celebrate special occasions, the dress was everything from casual to cocktail.
The ambience was what drew people first. Made of wood weathered to look like real driftwood, it boasted a high-ceilinged dining room with both booths and tables, and a long bar with high-back stools. A long porch framed two sides and in good weather those seats were prime territory. Diners could look out at the boats on the water, at the fishermen celebrating their catch of the day, at people zooming by on water skis.
But the real attraction was the food, which was always mouthwatering. People docked at Bayside Marina from all up and down the west coast of Florida just for a meal at the Driftwood.
As Sam had predicted, the weekday lunch crowd had diminished by the time they arrived, allowing them to snag a table out on the covered porch overlooking Bayside Marina. Funny, she hadn’t eaten here all that much when she’d lived here, but now whenever she was in town it was one of her favorite places.
He looked at her with those whiskey eyes that she was sure could see deep inside her. She used a trick she’d learned in the military, thinking of a black curtain wrapped around her so no one could see what she was thinking or feeling. She certainly needed it now. Letting him know he could still get to her after all these years made her too vulnerable.
“Well.” The corners of his mouth tipped up in a grin. “This is weird, right? You and me, sitting here, after all this time? You being my bodyguard and all. Who’d a thunk it.”
“We need to remember that’s all this is,” she told him in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact voice. “You’re a client; I’m your security detail.” Better to lay it all out on the table before this went any further.
“Care for a drink before lunch?” he asked. “Maybe a glass of wine?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I never drink when I’m working.”
“You don’t mind if I do?”
“No. Please. You probably need one after that story you told.”
When the waitress came she ordered ice water and he ordered a glass of the house white wine. He took a sip, set the glass down and looked across the table at her. Could he feel the sizzle in the air between them, or was it all her imagination?
“I’ll tell you the truth, Sam, I’m nervous as hell being with you.”
Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected. “What?”
“You heard me. Confession time, here.” He paused as if searching for the right words. “Not a day has gone by in all these years that I haven’t thought about you. It still bothers me the way I treated you.” He sighed and rubbed his cheek. “I was a jerk and an ass, and I don’t even have an excuse for it. If I could go back and do it all over again, I would.”
Her eyes widened. “You would?”
“I would, and that’s not a lie.” His eyes darkened with something that hinted at desire. “I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t been such a self-involved ass. I’m still ashamed of the way I treated you. It’s bothered me all these years. You have every right to turn down this job and I wouldn’t blame you. Although I hope you don’t, because I’m thinking maybe fate is giving us another chance.”
The waitress arrived with menus, recited the specials, and told them she’d be back to get their orders.
“Please just let me say this.” Blake rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I asked you to the Valentine’s Dance because I was very attracted to you and I wanted to go out with you, not to humiliate you. In my immature teenage stupidity, I didn’t stop to think that my equally immature friends would behave the way they did. I’ve waited a long time to say this to you. I’m sorry, Sam. More than you’ll ever know.”
Sam felt her mouth hanging open. Not on any day in all this time had she ever thought she’d hear those words. Maybe she’d hoped for a very curt Yeah, well, it’s water over the dam. History. Let’s move on. But a full-out apology? Never. Not ever.
“Sam?”
She blinked, realizing that for the second time she’d spaced out on him. She wet her lips and drew in a deep, settling breath.
“Tell me this isn’t just some line you’re feeding me so we can work together, because you don’t have to do that. I’m a professional, regardless of what my initial reaction was.”
He shook his head. “No line, Sam. And that’s God’s truth.”
“Your friends back then made it very clear it was bad form to take someone to the dance who wasn’t part of your crowd.” She gave an unladylike snort. “Your rather obnoxious crowd, I might add.”
His face reddened.
“I can only plead adolescent stupidity.” He reached across the table, took her hand in his and wrapped his fingers around it. “I was ignorant, childish, and rude. If I had it to do all over again, I’d just tell them to go to hell and ask you out again. I am more sorry about what I did afterward than I can tell you.”
She looked down at her hand in his. “Okay. So I may have blown it out of proportion in my mind, too.” Not.
He brushed his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. Just that simple touch made her nipples tingle and the pulse between her thighs set up a percussive rhythm. When he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his palm sent heat spiraling through her.
Control, she kept repeating in her head.
“I’ve spent way too much time regretting it.” His husky voice played havoc with her nerves. “When you walked into the office I thought, I have a chance to make this right. But—”
“But?” she urged.
“Okay, if I’m way off base, just tell me and we will pretend we never had this conversation.” He took another swallow of wine. “I can apologize all day, but here’s the deal. I’m still attracted to you. Big time. The chemistry that nearly blew up that night is still there.”
“You—”
He held up his free hand when she started to say something. “Not yet. Let me finish.” His thumb continued its soft stroking rhythm and every pulse-point in her body pounded in reaction. “I’d really like it if we could make a fresh start. Pretend none of that self-involved shit I did everyhappened. Like I said, we have chemistry, Sam. Don’t you want to find out if it takes us somewhere?”
For a very long moment her breath was trapped in her throat and Sam thought her heart had stopped beating. Start again?
“I don’t know. That was so long ago, and we’re different people now. Besides, the situation has changed, Blake.” She looked down at her hands for a long moment before lifting her gaze to him again. “You’re a client and we have a professional relationship.” She had to get that out there, because farfetched as it might be, if anything did happen she wanted him as willing to do it as she was.
“I respect that but it’s only a barrier if we want it to be.” Hunger and need swirled in his dark eyes.
“But that’s where I am right now. This chemistry might be nothing more than a memory. Can we just take things one day at a time? Focus on your problem and my part in this situation? If something happens, well, we can deal with it then.”
The crazy thought flitted through her mind that she might be the one to cross the line. That she might be the one to push it, just because he was so, so hot now and her lady parts were sending her urgent signals.
For a very long moment Blake didn’t say anything and she was almost afraid to breathe. What if he said no? What if he even demanded Avery replace her?
But then he smiled, a slow curve of those sensuous lips. “I can do that.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand, infusing her with a warmth that was almost erotic. “But that doesn’t mean if we want each other we have to ignore it.”
“I hear you, but—” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Can we just put it on the back burner while we deal with your problem?”
He nodded. “As long as you know it’s still at the top of my list. Sam, this electricity between us won’t disappear just because we tell it to. Sooner or later we’re going to test those waters. Just sayin’.”
“Thank you. I think.” She swallowed some of her ice water, which at the moment she badly needed, and sat back in her chair. Her body was hot and hungry and filled with need, and she absolutely had to get hold of herself. Especially since she saw the same thing reflected in Blake’s eyes. “So. Let’s talk business. That’s front and center, and why we’re here, after all.”
They paused while the waitress took their lunch orders. Then Sam pulled out her cell phone, called up her emails, and put the phone on the table.
“Avery sent the file to both my phone and tablet listing everything she briefed me on earlier. I’d like to get the details directly from you, though, on some of this. Then you can tell me what it takes to be a personal assistant.”
“Good thing I ordered a big lunch,” he teased.
They ate slowly, and as he talked Sam got a clear picture of the man he was now. She realized how far he’d come from the hot teenager and his cock of the walk attitude. Here was a man who’d grown into his own skin, who after a lot of hard work had achieved success. And just when he could finally enjoy it, some asshole was threatening to take it all away. Well, not on her watch. Her Vigilance agent self kicked in.
“I didn’t really think anything about it when the first note showed up,” he told her. “Writers—just about anyone in the public eye—get stuff like this all the time. You wouldn’t believe how many crazies there are out there.”
“I know Avery asked you this but just to satisfy me, is there anyone you have contact with who might be doing this?”
He shook his head. “None of my personal friends, but I’ve met so many people I’ve just had peripheral contact with. This could be any one of them.”
She studied his face. “What about your former PA? Avery’s notes said she quit without any warning.”
Blake started to answer but the waitress arrived with their food. When she left, he just shook his head.
“Avery asked me the same thing. Annemarie was with me for four years, from the lean times to the good. She had enough skills electronically to suit my needs but I can’t see her doing anything like this. Anyway, this is someone with mental problems and I can promise you, that’s not her.”
She thought about asking him what his real relationship with her was, but the tone of his voice when he answered her questions held no hint of sexual attraction, at least on his part. She was stunned at the feeling of relief that gave her. She really needed to watch herself here. She was conflicted. One minute she wanted to jump his bones, the other she wanted to put up an invisible wall between them.
Crazy much, Sam?
She had him take her though a typical day—travel, signings, ancillary activities. The hours he set aside to write. And what he did between, such as where he took his meals, what he did for relaxation. She made notes on her phone as he talked.
“This person could come from anyplace in your life,” she told him. “The more information I have, the easier it will be for me to be on the alert, to notice things and hopefully pinpoint the source. Also to play the part of a very efficient personal assistant.”
“Sure. It won’t be that difficult.” His laugh was rough with little humor. “I never thought my life would be turned upside down like this.”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t think any of us do. Unfortunately for you, it’s one of the hazards of celebrity.” She waited while the waitress cleared their plates and both refused coffee.
“I want a cup of French press from Fresh Roasted,” he told her.
She grinned. “Who doesn’t?”
“I want to—”
He was interrupted by the sound of a chime echoing from his pocket, signaling an incoming text.
“Sorry. I thought I’d put the phone on mute. This is my personal number so I need to get it.”
“No problem. Go ahead.” She wondered for a fleeting moment if he was connected with some woman. Then she gave herself a mental smack, reminding herself it was none of her business, regardless of their earlier conversation.
He pulled the phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and his face tightened in anger. He swiveled his head, looking everywhere on the porch. Then he stood up and tried to see through the big glass windows to the interior.
“Blake? What’s going on?” When he didn’t answer her she said, “Sit down and tell me what the problem is.”
He held the phone out to her. “Take a look.”
A message had popped up on the screen. “I know what you did.”
Then the phone chimed again. “You can change your number all you want, but you can’t get away from me.”
As she was reading it the chime sounded a third time and yet another text scrolled up.
“Bodyguards won’t help you.”
And just like that the little crackles of electricity they were both ignoring, the dance her hormones kept trying to do, flat out died. Samantha Quenel, girl with a crush, disappeared and was replaced by Sam Quenel, super bodyguard. Every nerve in her body went on full alert.
“Sit, please,” she repeated. “You’re doing exactly what he wants.”
“But—”
“Sit down, Blake.” She tried not to shout, but her words came out louder than she wanted. She swallowed and inhaled a slow breath.
“I can’t believe the fucker followed me here.” He sat with obvious reluctance. “I can feel him here. Jesus, Sam, I swear I can feel his eyes on me. That fucker is here someplace.”
“First of all, if he’s so tuned in to your schedule he hits all your tour stops, it’s a given he goes wherever you do. That means following you to Arrowhead Bay.”
“But—”
“That means he knows about your meeting at Vigilance, which is how he knows you have security now. Looking for him here isn’t going to help. It will just give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to you. Anyway, it’s possible he checked you out, then moved out of sight to send the text.”
Blake clenched his fists. “So he sat here, watching me? Watching us? Laughing his ass off?”
“I don’t think he’s doing much laughing, but yes, he probably watched you for a while.”
“He’s spying on me.” Every muscle in Blake’s face tightened. “Do you know how that feels?”
“I do. But again, he wants to get a reaction out of you. That’s the point of the whole thing. Of doing this out in public.”
“You think he’s hung around to watch every time he’s left me a note? Sent me a text?” His hand closed around his water glass so tightly she was afraid he’d crack it.
Sam nodded. “Whenever he could.”
“But I looked around every time and never saw anyone.” A muscle twitched in his cheek.
“Blake. Listen to me. You wouldn’t know if he—or she—was there anyway, unless it was someone you know.”
“Which makes it highly unlikely it’s Annemarie. Which it isn’t.”
“Unless she’s got someone doing this for her.” She pushed back from the table and stood. “Just sit tight for a minute.”
Tension radiated from his body. She was worried he might decide to stomp through the restaurant and ask everyone if he could see their cell phone. “Where are you going?”
“To the ladies’ room. I want to do a casual look around. I can get a better read on the crowd than you can.”
“But what if he’s watching you?”
“So? Women go to the restroom all the time. It’s a known fact. Just hang on, okay?”
On the way to the ladies’ room she casually looked around the room, searching for someone by himself—or herself—doing their best to look relaxed and at ease. But the few singles she spotted were either reading or sitting at the bar chatting with the bartender. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She’d seen people blend into a place so innocuously that they were easy to overlook.
Right now, though, what they needed was to get back to Vigilance and check out Blake’s phone.
“Nothing made my senses tingle,” she told him when she was seated at the table again. “He could still be hanging around here, though. Just in case, signal very casually for the check.”
“We’re leaving?”
“We’re going back to Vigilance where we have technical support. I want one of the guys to take a look at your phone and see if they can find anything. Those guys could track an angel in hell, I swear.”
“I’d like to find this asshole, drag him out in the street by his hair and beat the crap out of him.”
“I can’t say I blame you.” She sipped ice water while they waited for the check. “Arrowhead Bay is a small town, so you think it would be easy to find a stranger, someone who would stand out in a crowd.” She frowned. “Except—”
“Except for all the boat traffic we get,” he finished for her, “and then the snowbird influx. Not to mention people heading south who drive through here because they aren’t rushed and they find the interstate boring. This person could be any one of them.”
Blake rubbed his jaw.
“This is just one fucking mess,” he growled. “I find myself looking at everyone whenever I go anywhere wondering if this asshole is standing next to me silently laughing his ass off.”
“I won’t lie to you. Anything is possible. But that’s why you have me. So I can do the looking.” She watched as he signed the tab. “One more thing. I also want to pick up my car.”
He frowned. “Because?”
Sam laughed. “Maybe because I’m a big girl and like to have my own car with me.” Then she sobered. “Kidding aside, I have gizmos in mine that you don’t.”
As they walked to the parking lot, she continued to scan everyone around them, looking for any sign that someone was paying unusual attention to them. Everything looked normal, but she’d been doing this long enough to know that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The invisible antennae she’d developed in the military and then with Vigilance were vibrating at full strength. Whoever this bastard was, he or she wasn’t far away.
Another vehicle was parked blocking their view of Blake’s car, so it wasn’t until they got past it that everything amped up. The first thing they saw was the slashed tires.
“God damn it.” He slammed his hand on the hood so hard she was afraid he’d break a bone or two. “Fucking son of a bitch.”
Sam walked around to the driver’s side and wanted to do some swearing herself. Someone had spray painted that side of the car with black paint.
I know what you did.
The distress that was obvious in his expression made her give one of his hands a quick squeeze, ignoring the jolt of electricity that raced along her arm.
“Don’t touch anything,” she told him, took out her phone and speed dialed the office.
“What’s up?” Avery asked. “How did the lunch go?”
“Would have been better without the crap that happened. Listen, we’ve got a situation here.”
“Such as?”
“It looks like Blake’s fan has followed him to Arrowhead Bay. He got a text on his phone while we were eating. Someone also slashed his tires and sprayed that message on his car.”
“Damn,” Avery swore.
“No kidding. Is Mike around? Can you send him over? We need wheels and I want to get this car towed back to the office. When we get it back there we can print it, although I don’t think this guy is stupid enough to leave any trace of himself.”
“You’re probably right. Okay, let me get Mike over there and have someone call for the tow truck.” She paused. “Watch yourself. Whoever this is might be miles away but my gut tells me he’s somewhere close enough to observe the results of his handiwork.”
“No argument there.”
“And Sam? I have information for Blake on his former PA, so come right into the office when you get back here.”
“Good or bad?” she asked.
“Neither. Just sad.”
“Oh.” She glanced at Blake, standing with his hands in his pockets, muttering to himself. “Should I prepare him?”
“No. I’ll handle it. Just get back here.”
“Fine. I’ll be watching for Mike.” She slid her phone back into her jeans pocket.
“Who’s Mike?” Blake was staring at his car as if he wanted to blow it up.
“Mike Pérez. Another of our agents, also between assignments.” She ran over the arrangements with him. “Blake, listen. Knowing for sure your stalker followed you to Arrowhead Bay changes the game plan a little.”
He frowned. “How? In what way?”
“Knowing you hired Vigilance gives him momentum to up his game and push your buttons even harder.”
He grunted. “I don’t know if that’s possible. If I get my hands on him I’d cheerfully wring his neck.”
“I know, but we don’t want him to know that he’s gotten to you.” She kept her voice calm and reasonable. She could see he was doing his best to control his frustration and she didn’t want him to blow unless they were completely alone. “That will frustrate him and that could lead to him making mistakes as he takes bigger and bigger risks.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he snapped. “Not for me, but for people around me, especially my readers. I don’t want someone else getting hurt because some maniac has a grudge against me for I don’t even know what.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a stone.
Sam said nothing, amazed that he was as much under control as he was. But then she noticed the taut line of his body, the twitch of a muscle in his jaw, and realized his control was far from real. She slipped on her sunglasses and scanned the parking lot, a tiny thread of unease winding through her.
Whoever this was could have sent the texts, attacked the car and then driven off, but her instincts told her otherwise. This idiot was out there somewhere watching them, and was damn good at hiding himself. Blending in. Waiting for Blake’s reaction. That was half of his satisfaction, to watch Blake’s reaction. She’d make sure to drill him on exactly how things would go from now on whenever they set foot in public.
She pulled out her cell again and while ostensibly taking pictures of the car from all angles, she managed to catch most of the parking lot without being too obvious. She also caught what she could of the marina parking lot next door.
By the time she was finished, Mike Pérez had pulled up close to them in a black SUV. He climbed out and stood there studying the car for a moment.
“Damn. Someone is definitely unhappy with you,” he told Blake.
“Don’t I know it.” Blake kicked one of the slashed tires. “Fuck. Just fuck.”
Mike turned to Sam. “Want me to do a look-see around the lot just in case?”
“Just in case,” she repeated, “although I think whoever this is has left already. I did get pictures of all the cars, even part of the marina lot. I want to enlarge them at the office and study them to see if anything looks suspicious. I figured he’d want to stay around to check out the results of his artwork.”
“He could be just out of your line of sight,” Mike pointed out. “Or even hiding in one of the cars. I’ll take a look, then we’ll get down to business.”
“When we get the car to the office I want it printed, even though I’m sure it’s a fool’s errand. Any you find probably won’t belong to our mystery nut.”
He shrugged. “No matter. I called for the tow and the truck should be here any minute. Take the SUV and get back to the office. Avery’s waiting for you.”
“Okay.” She turned to Blake, still rigid with anger, his jaw clenched so tight she worried it would crack. “Let’s get to it.”
As she drove them back to the agency, she went over in her mind the best way to tell him of some other changes, such as her intention to move into his parents’ house with him, even if she had to sleep on the couch. She knew Avery would suggest it if she didn’t. If this stalker was escalating, leaving Blake there by himself was a bad idea. When they went back to Tampa, he’d better have a guest room for her. And on the road the door between their adjoining rooms would always be left open. Stalkers like this didn’t let closed doors stop them.
But as she drove them back to Vigilance, she was far too aware that her bigger worry wasn’t protecting him. It was protecting herself and her heart. Time to call on that good old military discipline she’d learned.