False Security (28 page)

Jonathan rapped
the end of a pen against the mahogany desk in his office. He had been in the
same position for over an hour, only moving to ask his executive assistant to
cancel his appointments for the day. Ever vigilant about his schedule to ensure
he remained on track, Rita grilled him about his reasons for clearing his
calendar. Jonathan placated her by stating he wasn’t feeling well.

The excuse wasn’t necessarily a
lie, as Jonathan didn’t know how he felt. Since meeting Rachel Pettis last
night, his emotions were all over the place and impossible to pinpoint. There
was something about Rachel he had never seen in another woman. Her beauty
called to him when she entered the room, and her quiet strength grabbed him as
the evening wore on. He had an overwhelming desire to watch her all night, but
he kept her in his peripheral vision so as not to incite King.

King did not scare Jonathan. He
had dealt with King enough to know he was an obstacle. A stubborn one, but an
obstacle all the same. Jonathan made a living and lived his life working around
much bigger obstacles than King.

Jonathan’s feelings toward this
woman he barely knew frightened him far more than King ever could. After
leaving Cal’s estate, Rachel remained planted in his mind. He only closed his
eyes for a few brief hours of restless sleep, where she appeared in his dreams.

This morning, he thought of
nothing else but finding a way to see her again. Seeing her would help him
straighten out his emotions. He needed to know if he was attracted to her
because she was on the arm of his competition, or if it was a pesky case of
love at first sight. He hoped it was the former, as the latter presented more
complications than he desired. The only problem was he didn’t know how to find
her.

He ran his conversation with
Rachel through his mind in hopes of remembering something to assist him in his
search. He didn’t have a lot to go on, but he knew someone who could help.

Jonathan leaned forward and
pressed the intercom button on his phone to page Rita. When she answered, he
asked, “Can you get Walt on the phone for me, please?”

“Last name?” Rita asked.

“Walter Sykes. The only Walt we
know.”

“Do you want me to schedule an
appointment with him?”

“No, Rita, thank you. I’ll wait
on the phone until you can connect us.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Is there
anything else?”

Jonathan paused. Depending on
what Walt found, he might need a couple days to figure things out. As long as
the end result was getting his mind off Rachel, taking time off would be worth
it so his life could return to normal.

“Please cancel all of my
appointments for the next two days,” he said into the phone.

A long silence came from the
other end of the phone. Jonathan started to ask if she was still there when
Rita said, “
All
of your appointments? Are you sure?”

“If there’s anything urgent, let
Cory handle it. He’s more than capable.” Jonathan trusted his brother Cory more
than anyone else in the company. Cory could take care of any pressing matters
while Jonathan straightened himself out.

“Okay, sir. I’ll get Mr. Sykes
on the phone for you now.” There was a long beep followed by silence.

Jonathan resumed tapping the pen
against his desk. If anyone could find out more about Rachel Pettis, it was
Walt. He had done contract private investigating work for Jonathan a number of
times in the past, and was discreet about everything. Looking into King’s
girlfriend required the upmost discretion.

Rita came back on the line. “Mr.
Sykes for you, sir.”

Jonathan waited to speak until a
beep signaled that Rita disconnected herself from the call. “How are you,
Walt?”

“Jonathan Thomas!” Walt said. “I
wondered when I would hear from you again. You always have the most interesting
cases.”

Jonathan chuckled. “This one is
no different, I’m afraid. I need you to look into someone for me.”

“Sure thing,” Walt said. “What’s
the name?”

“Rachel Pettis. She’s in her
early twenties.”

“Where does she live?”

Jonathan thought for a moment.
“Actually, I’m not quite sure. It is somewhere up north, though. That’s pretty
much all I know about her.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal her relationship
with King quite yet.

“You don’t give a man a lot to
go on, do you?”

“I’m sorry, I wish I had more.”
Jonathan remembered another fact from his conversation with Rachel, but he
hesitated before telling Walt. Maybe he’d have to share the information about
her relationship with King after all. “Walt, I need your discretion on this
one.”

“Of course. I’m always quiet
about what I do for you.”

“But this one really calls for
it, more than any other case you’ve handled for me. I don’t want you to hand
this one off to anyone else. I want you to take care of it yourself.”

“You’ve got it,” Walt said.
“Although, I have to admit that you’re making me a bit nervous.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing to be
nervous about,” Jonathan said. “Rachel works for Donovan King. She’s a security
guard at his estate. I’m pretty sure they’re...together.”

Walt whistled into the phone.
“Donovan King. Not someone I normally go poking around and you want me to look
into his girlfriend? That can’t possibly end well.”

Jonathan sat up straight in his
chair. Walt’s words instilled a bit of fear into him. If Walt stayed away from
King, maybe Jonathan should as well. He already knew the answer to his next
question, but asked anyway. “What have you heard about King?”

“It’s rumors.”

“What are the rumors?”

“Nothing good,” Walt said. “He’s
mixed up with Graham Wilkes, and they’ve known each other since childhood. We
both know Wilkes is not a good man, so I highly doubt King is one, either. I
don’t know what you want with this girl, but I’d stay far away from anyone
associated with King, especially if you know she works for him during the day
and spends her nights in his bed.”

Jonathan shook the image out of
his mind. He didn’t want to think that King had ever touched her in that
manner, but he knew Walt’s words were true. Rachel had been cozy with King
during dinner, and the entire night King watched her with a careful eye. Not
only was their relationship apparent, but they had been together in that capacity
for quite some time.

“You’re probably right,”
Jonathan said, “but I still want whatever you can find on her. Can you run a
basic check for me and at least find out where she lives? Along with any other
information you can get, of course. I need it right away. I’ll be glad to pay a
rush charge.”

“I can run by your office
tomorrow afternoon with whatever I find. Have a check ready for me.”

“The usual fee?”

“Yes, plus whatever the rush is
worth to you. I know you’re always more than fair.”

Jonathan smiled. “Thanks, Walt.”
He replaced the receiver and leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t considered
that Rachel Pettis might be wrapped up in King’s dealings with Wilkes. If she
was both working for and intimately involved with King, anything was possible.

He closed his eyes, and
envisioned Rachel standing before him. Her emerald eyes tore through him and
convinced him it was love at first sight. She felt it, too. He could tell as
she argued with him that she hadn’t expected the undeniable chemistry between them.
He knew he somehow had to see her again, no matter what her story was with
King.

The fog settling
around the trees mirrored the one in Rachel’s mind. Unable to focus on her
rounds, she wandered across the grounds in the general direction of her patrol
route. Two days had passed since she met Jonathan Thomas, and both the dance
they shared and Donovan’s outburst still affected her.

Her fingers retreated to her
cheek, which ached with the bruise from hitting the wall. Rachel could deal
with the smudge on her cheek the color of a bruised rainbow, as long as no
bruises emerged where he grabbed her arm. She hated seeing marks the shape of
his fingertips on her. Those were the fingers that knew how to touch her, that
loved her and memorized every part of her body a thousand times over. But they
were also the fingers that could reduce her to tears, crushing her spirit and
imprisoning her in a world of pain.

In the limo before the dinner,
Donovan said everything she ever wanted to hear. She assumed it to be a turning
point in their relationship, but nothing had changed, except now she had
experienced something greater than his anger. The jealousy that fueled his
outburst was far worse than anything she ever felt at his hands before that
night.

The invisible wounds were much
more painful than the bruise on her cheek. Donovan had drilled into her head
that she belonged to him, but that night was the first time she ever felt like
his property to do with as he pleased, no matter how much it hurt her. She had
never felt so inhuman as when he pushed her up against the wall and stripped
her dress off her body. She would much rather take a hundred beatings than
suffer through that humiliation again.

Then yesterday, the morning
after the dinner, the apologies and excuses came, as she learned to expect. He
was sorry. He loved her and didn’t mean to hurt her. He had overreacted and if
he could go back, he would handle the situation better. Seeing her dance with
another man, seeing another man touch her in a way only he should touch her
drove him over the edge. Overcome by jealousy, the identity of that man
compounded his anger. If it had been anyone besides Jonathan Thomas, he
wouldn’t have reacted in that manner.

Rachel couldn’t help but think
his reaction would have been the same if she danced with the Pope. She despised
the onslaught of excuses almost more than the actual act. His words ensured she
would forgive him and forget his temper until the next time. With each apology,
however, she grew more jaded and now she wondered if he was capable of change.

Paul’s voice cut through the
tranquil morning air. “How are things on your side of the world?”

Rachel removed her radio from
her belt, glad for the distraction from her thoughts. Pressing the button on
the side of the radio, she said, “We’re all clear over here. Minus the fog,
that is.”

He laughed. “I’m sending Eric
out to relieve you. He should be there in about ten minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Rachel.”

The radio fell from her hands at
the sound of the vaguely familiar voice. She freed her gun from her shoulder
holster and whipped around with her gun trained on the intruder.

Jonathan Thomas stood behind
her, his clothes more suitable for a day in the office than a stroll through the
woods. He recoiled at the sight of her gun and his hands flew up in surrender.
“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Do you realize I could have
shot you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He dropped
his hands to his sides. “I guess I underestimated you.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” She
put her gun away and tried to slow her heart before it escaped from her body.
She couldn’t be sure if the rapid knocks against her chest were caused by the
adrenaline rush of being startled or by Jonathan’s unexpected presence. “What
the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

“I had to see you.”

What kind of answer was that? He
couldn’t waltz into her world as if it was nothing out of the ordinary and
throw her life into chaos. The longer he stood in front of her, the more her
head spun and stomach knotted. He was a detriment to every aspect of her life
and he had to leave.

“This is insane,” she said. “You
can’t be here. Not only are you trespassing on private property, but someone
could come along at any time.”

“Your relief will be here in
eight minutes.”

Though he was right, Rachel had
to convince him to leave. No good could come out of him staying longer. If he
stayed, she might...

She destroyed the thought before
it could reveal her emotions to her stubborn mind, and tried another tack to
get Jonathan off the grounds and out of her life. “If Donovan knew you were
here—”

“What exactly would he do?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be pleasant.”

“Okay, sorry, you’re right. It’s
entirely inappropriate to show up like this, but I didn’t know how else to get
in touch with you. Where do you live? Maybe I can meet you there when you get
off work and take you to dinner.”

“Jonathan, I’m full-time, onsite
security.”

His forehead creased and he
contemplated her words. “You mean you live here?”

“Yes.”

He tightened his lips and looked
off to the side. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You have to leave now.”

“Can’t you meet me somewhere
later?”

“That’s not possible,” she said.

“Why not? Are you and King—”

“What?”

“You know.”

Surely the truth would force him
leave. “Yes, we are.” She glanced around the woods to make sure they were still
alone. “You have to go now. Eric will be here any second, and Donovan cannot
find out you were here.”

Rachel expected him to walk
away, but he remained still. She opened her mouth to demand that he leave when
he grabbed her arms, pulled her to him, and kissed her. Her mind battled him
and she wanted to shove him away.

Instead of resisting, she
relaxed against him and she returned the kiss. His kiss was pure, without a
hint of the hunger that led to sex. But desire was there, and it was as if she
could feel his soul as he enveloped her in his arms. She was no longer on the
estate, but raptured into a new world created by the perfection in his kiss.

Without warning, sanity restored
itself and she pulled away from him. “This can’t happen,” she whispered.

“It’s already happened,” he
said. “I can’t explain it, but you know it’s right.”

“It can’t be right,” she said.
“I don’t want you in my life. You have to forget that I ever existed.”

“It’s too late for that,”
Jonathan said.

“I was fine, my life was fine,
without you.”

“I’m sure it was perfect.
Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” He touched the bruise high on her cheek.
“You don’t belong here, Angel. He doesn’t deserve you.” He turned around and
vanished into the fog, leaving her staring after him.

“Slacking on the job?”

Rachel whirled around and faced
Eric. Had he seen Jonathan? If he had, he probably saw their kiss and heard
their exchange as well. If Donovan was that incensed over the dance they
shared, she did not want to find out how he would react to a kiss.

“Don’t ever sneak up on me like
that again,” she said through clenched teeth. “You know procedure is to warn
others before you approach. What you just did could get you killed.” She
started walking away when his voice stopped her.

“Don’t forget your radio,” he
said in a mocking tone.

She stiffened and turned around.
Not looking at Eric, she picked up her radio and hurried back to the house and
toward the safety of her bedroom before he could say anything else.

Anger and frustration coursed
through her veins like torrents. Jonathan had thrown her world into turmoil.
How dare he talk to her like that! He knew nothing about her. He had no right
to judge or criticize her life, which is exactly what he did with two simple
sentences.

But seeing him again stirred up
emotions inside her, the same ones that plagued her while they were dancing.
She had done her best to block him out of her mind for the two days since she’d
met him, but things were different now. That night she was in another world,
one she hadn’t been in since she was ten and one she would probably never be in
again. Today, Jonathan had broken into her world.

Then he had the nerve to kiss
her. Her anger flared as she thought of the way he pulled her to him and kissed
her with no regard for her feelings or for her relationship with Donovan. He
acted like she would enjoy his kiss and the feeling of being that close to him.

But she did enjoy it. His kiss
excited her, which upset her even more. She knew better, but her body betrayed
her and succumbed to him. Her mind screamed at her that it was wrong, but it
was unable to provide her with any means of controlling the feelings levitating
her toward Jonathan.

Rachel wandered into her bedroom
and slammed the door shut behind her. In her bathroom, she propped her hands on
the counter and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had to forget
that Jonathan Thomas ever existed so she could return to her life with Donovan.
She was already terrified at what would happen if he found out about the kiss.
Somehow, she had to get things back to the way they were when he simply loved
her, before the night she provoked his dark side in the library.

She jumped at a rap on her
bedroom door. “What?” she asked.

“It’s me,” Paul said through the
door.

She left her bathroom and opened
the bedroom door. “I’m sorry, Paul. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay.” In his hands, he
held her black jacket that was used for formal security situations. “Listen,
Donovan needs you upstairs for a meeting he’s having in a few minutes.”

“I just got off rounds and I’m
exhausted. The last thing I want to do is stand in at a meeting.”

“I know, but he specifically
requested you.”

“Who is it with this time?”

“He didn’t say, but whoever it is,
they’re in the waiting room right now. He wants you to escort them to the
conference room and stay for the meeting.”

Rachel threw up her hands.
“Fine.” She snatched the jacket from his hands and pushed past him.

“What’s wrong with you? You
seemed okay a half hour ago.”

Without turning around she said,
“PMS.”

In front of the waiting room,
she slid her arms into the jacket and buttoned it, hiding her gun and shoulder
holster. She exhaled and tried to soften her demeanor. She wasn’t about to bite
the head off some poor soul.

She opened the door to the
waiting room, wearing her best false smile. The smile left her face when the
man in the room turned around. “No,” she said.

“What is this room?” Jonathan
asked.

She closed her eyes, hoping she
could wish him away, but it didn’t work. He was still there, wide-eyed and
smiling when she reopened them. She should have known Donovan was meeting with
him, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his kiss long enough to
question why he had been on the grounds in the first place.

“This collection is incredible,”
he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I guess he wants to unsettle me by
having me wait in here. Is that how it works?”

Of course, she thought. By
having her in the room during the meeting, Donovan figured he could distract
Jonathan. Under her breath, she said, “Son of a—”

“I hope you aren’t directing
that comment toward me,” Jonathan said. “I thought you liked me more than
that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a meeting with King.
Every now and then we get together and argue for fun. Today seemed like a good
time to do that again.”

The inner workings of Donovan’s
security company never interested Rachel, and she had no knowledge of any
meetings Donovan previously held with Jonathan. “What are you arguing about
today?”

“Same thing we’ve been arguing
about for over ten years. He wants to buy me out.”

“And you don’t want to sell,”
Rachel finished for him. “Men and their toys.”

“Normally, we do this at my
office, but we’re both tired of our lawyers doing the arguing for us. Plus,
I’ve always wanted to see where King lives and now I’m glad I came. Lots of
interesting things happening on his grounds.”

“Jonathan,” she said, but then
changed her mind before she said anything more. Arguing would only succeed in
irritating her while deepening her attraction toward him.

“What?” he asked, a childlike
grin plastered on his face.

She lightened her tone. “Mr.
Thomas, if you’ll please follow me.” She turned and moved toward the conference
room.

The meeting didn’t last long.
Rachel stood in the corner of the room across from Donovan, and tried to ignore
both men. She resented Jonathan for being there, and she resented Donovan for
forcing her to be there.

The competitive relationship of
the two men magnified her discomfort. She suspected something else was being
discussed below the surface of every spoken word, a hidden agenda she knew
nothing about.

For over thirty minutes, Donovan
highlighted his latest proposal for purchasing Jonathan’s company. Ten more
minutes of heated argument ensued before Jonathan decided he had enough.

He stood to leave, then turned
back around. “You know, King, I did a lot of thinking this morning before I
came here. I’ve spent almost twenty years building my company, making it
exactly what I’ve always envisioned. That company is my entire life. I have
never had the slightest desire to sell to you because there’s nothing you could
offer me that is equal or superior to what my company means to me. This
morning, I decided I would sell to you.”

“You just rejected my offer,”
Donovan said.

“I didn’t like your offer. I
have a better one, and the terms are non-negotiable.”