The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (17 page)

“When they told me what the plan was I didn’t know you were the CEO. Morrison Shipping was a faceless entity. But when I found out it was you and your family, I didn’t want to do it. I wasn’t going to do it. I decided tonight. It’s why I had to talk to you. I have a plan.” The words spilled from her as fast as water over a cliff.

The expression on Kyle’s face softened for a second. Then his eyes narrowed. “Before or after we got shot at?”

“Before,” she lied, because she knew if she said the truth, that she had been undecided until she faced death a second time, he would never speak to her again, much less agree to her plan.

“What do they have on you that is so bad you would do this?”

“Smuggling. In exchange for the money I needed to keep the business solvent, they insisted I look the other way for a shipment of illegal cigarettes.” She purposely left out the bargaining for her shifter training. Kyle would never understand. “If they turn me in, or the authorities find out, it’s a felony charge. I could go to jail.

“I also suspect they might be involved in the sinking of the
KayFion
. A dangerous cargo went missing after the ship sank. Someone cut a hole in the side of the ship and removed the payload. I can’t prove it was OmniWorld, but I’m working on it.”

“You should go to the authorities, Fiona. Tell them everything.”

She laughed, the sound hard and bitter. “I’d be in prison before I even finished the story. This isn’t the first time WK Shipping has had trouble with smuggling. The company was prosecuted, and cleared, about eighteen months ago. The Port Authorities have already warned me not to leave the country because of this latest incident. My insurance is tripling because of the
KayFion
sinking, and OmniWorld wants to bail me out . . . again.”

“Which will put you deeper in their pockets. You’ll be susceptible to even more nefarious threats.” Kyle strode away from the window and paced in front of the fireplace. “How much money do you need?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not a one-time sum. The insurance premium probably won’t ever go down.”

“I could lend it to you.”

“I’m not asking you to. Besides, it won’t solve the core problem—getting OmniWorld off our backs.”

“You said you had a plan.”

“It’s not very different from the one they want me to instigate.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“We do everything they’ve asked: we get married.”

“And we have to because . . .?”

“It’s their plan. I tried to get out of it, but they are insisting I have to do it. Without a prenup, by the way.”

“Not going to happen, especially since I know what’s really going on.”

“Maybe we can figure a way out of this. Once we’re married, or maybe even while we’re engaged, I feed them information—real enough they will believe I’m spying for them, yet something harmless to the company. I can gain their trust and find out who’s at the top of the chain. Then we go to the authorities and take them down.”

“Sounds risky.

“It is. They’re dangerous and ruthless, and we could lose our lives if it goes wrong.”

“And if we don’t cooperate?”

“We could lose our lives and have nothing to show for the refusal but a casket. I don’t know about you, Kyle, but I can’t let them get away with this.”

“It’s just a company, Fiona. Is it worth losing your life over?”

“What about what your folks have built? Do you want to see it destroyed?”

“If they give me enough cash to keep Mom and Dad . . . and us safe and comfortable, why not?”

“Because they ruined my mother’s life, and I want to make them pay. Because WK Shipping is the last link to my folks, and I don’t want to have it snatched away like they took away my mother’s freedom and sense of safety.” Tears welled in her eyes and Fiona’s calm slipped into the edges of hysteria.

Kyle moved to her and gently grasped her shoulders. “What are you talking about? Your parents were happily married.”

Now she’d done it. If she wasn’t careful, her shifter genie would be out of the bottle. She drew in a long, deep breath before speaking, framing her words cautiously. “Before my mother married Dad she was running away from someone. Someone who had close ties to OmniWorld. I didn’t know this until she was gone, but she lived most of her life in fear the person—persons—she was hiding from would find her. Did you never wonder why she didn’t appear at social functions with Dad and me?”

“Word was she was too ill to socialize.”

“It was a cover-up so her picture wouldn’t get into the papers. She was in hiding.”

“Doesn’t make sense, Fiona. Dad told me OmniWorld is a recently established company. How could they have been after your mother?”

Frustration bubbled in her. “The shif—the shifty SOBs who run this company—they were behind Mom’s fears.” Fiona shrugged out of his grip and strode to the other side of the room. “I can’t explain it all. It’s complicated, but you have to believe me. We have to stop them.” She faced Kyle, silently pleading for his help.

“I don’t know, Fiona.”

“Please. I can’t do this without you.” When her plea seemed futile, she threw in one last maneuver. “I need you, Kyle.”

They stood there silently for several seconds, as Fiona held her breath waiting for an answer. Everything depended on whether or not Kyle believed her. If he refused, she dared not imagine what might happen to them both. She moved forward and gently placed her hand on his arm.

“I swear I’m telling the truth. If you don’t help, I could . . . we could . . . everyone we love could be . . . gone. They would kill them with no regrets and no repercussions. Then they’d swallow our companies and go on to the next unfortunate victims. I don’t want those deeds on my conscience. Do you?”

Kyle ran his finger over her jaw. “No. I don’t.” He dropped to one knee. “Fiona Kayler, will you marry me?”

She pulled him to his feet. “Why did you do that?”

He nodded toward the expanse of glass on the lakeside of the house. “In case they’re watching. We have to make it as real as possible, don’t we?” He drew her into his arms. “What’s your answer?”

“Yes,” she said. “For the sake of Peeping Toms, yes, I will marry you.”

“Good.” He tipped her head toward his face. “We should seal it with a kiss, right?”

Kyle’s blue eyes glittered as he lowered his mouth to hers. Fiona shuddered, the tension between them growing like lightning in a heat storm. His lips explored hers, soft and gentle.

“Do you really want to do this?” he whispered against her mouth.

Memories of Mike and moonlight flooded her as Kyle whispered the same phrase Mike had asked her before they made love. She drew away, lowering her head so Kyle couldn’t see into her eyes. Couldn’t see the pain and deceit flooding her.

“Yes,” she replied in a quavering voice. “I do.” But her heart screamed no! She wanted Mike. But that was not going to happen.

Chapter 26

Kyle kissed Fiona goodbye on the front stoop of his home while George waited beside his car for her. She knew, without a doubt, George ogled them, taking in her cheating behavior. But when Kyle released her, George faced the road, away from the smooching couple.

“Call off work tomorrow,” Kyle said. “We’ve an engagement party to plan and a ring to buy.”

“Surprise me.” Her heart wasn’t into a fake celebration.

Kyle’s arm snaked around her waist. “Indulge me, Fiona. This may be the only wedding I ever have. You too, if we don’t pull it off.”

“That makes me feel good,” she retorted.

“We need it to be real if these people are as smart as you think.”

“Why? They know it’s not.”

“They know you’re not in love. But they have to believe I am. Let me be in love. Act as if you love me, too.”

“Act as if I love you? Haven’t I broken your heart enough?”

“When I was in New York do you know what I did for fun?”

She remembered he’d been on the Harvard Rowing Team. “Rowed around the Statue of Liberty?”

“I acted in community theater. Way, way, way off Broadway. I’m pretty good at it. The one thing I learned from my drama coach was to play a part well you must become the person you’re portraying. We’re supposed to be in love, especially me. I need to act in love, even if it bothers you.”

He tugged her against him, his hands roaming over her backside. She stiffened, the memory of Mike’s hands on her bare skin crashing through her brain.

“See, that’s exactly what I mean. You’re supposed to enjoy me touching you.”

She harrumphed. “If you ask me, you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I’m playing the part of a man who’s crazy in love. Crazy enough he’s asked a woman to marry him after what the world sees as three dates. I’d better be all over you or OmniWorld won’t believe you’ve accomplished your job. Then where will we be?”

“Dead,” she whispered as a tremor ran through her.

“Exactly. So, kiss me as if you mean it this time.”

He wound her arms around his neck. Fiona stared at him, willing Mike’s face onto Kyle. Kyle’s blond curls became a spiky crew cut. His clean-cut face sharpened into the hard planes that formed Mike’s countenance. Kyle’s mouth met hers, and she opened her lips to him as his tongue sought entrance.

Mike. This is Mike.
She repeated the mantra, careful not to say the words aloud. She’d give Kyle what he asked for—a fake love affair. After asking him to risk his life to help her, playing along with his fantasy was only fair.

His lips left hers, the glazed look in his eyes relaying she’d accomplished what he’d asked of her.

“Now, that, my darling Fiona, was the kind of kiss your fiancé deserves.”

His hands cupped her bottom, drawing her so close the evidence of his need pressed into her. Guilt flooded her at the game she played with him, even though he knew the rules.

Gently, she eased away. In her peripheral vision she caught Kyle’s butler staring at them from the living room doorway. She ticked her head toward the house. “I think we’ve convinced your help.”

Kyle’s chin bumped her shoulder. “The bodyguard looks convinced, too.”

Fiona angled her face toward George, who stared at them, his mouth agape. “I think you’re going to get another in-depth security check.”

“Because I’m groping you?”

“Among other reasons.” Could she keep George from telling Mike? Probably not. She untangled herself from Kyle’s arms. “Come by the office in the morning. I’ll see if I can take a few hours off.”

Kyle dropped a kiss on the top of her head as she extricated herself. “No seeing. Do it.”

George shut the rear passenger door without looking at Fiona, and her stomach curled like waves crashing on the shore. He knew about her and Mike. Otherwise why would he give her the cold shoulder?

She leaned forward. “Thanks for being there tonight, George.”

“It’s my job, ma’am,” he said, his voice crisp and business-like.

“Does Mike know someone shot at me?”

“Yes. He surveyed the area after we left.”

“Did he find anything?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. You’ll have to ask him when we get home.”

Talking to Mike was the last thing she wanted to do. She rested her hand on the top of the driver’s seat. Her fingertips accidentally brushed George’s shoulder, and he twisted away.

Sighing, she leaned against her seat. “Does he know where I went after the shooting?”

“Yes, ma’am. He wanted you to come to the house, but I said you insisted on going to Mr. Morrison’s.” George lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror and stared at her. “He wasn’t very happy about it.”

She lowered her eyes from his accusatory look. “No. I imagine not. George?” she said hesitantly.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You don’t need to tell him what you saw on the stoop, do you?”

“No, ma’am. Mr. Morrison has his security clearance. What you do in your love life is of no matter to me.” He paused, the air of expectancy so heavy she was forced to look up. George watched her in the rearview mirror. “But you should tell Mike before he finds out on his own. It hurts less that way.”

Fiona sank onto the seat cushions, wishing they would swallow her. If George thought Mike would be hurt by her kissing Kyle, she’d misread his not coming to breakfast and not contacting her today. Maybe his reasons had been valid. Instead of being confident in what they’d shared, she’d played the injured female, sulking because a man hadn’t returned her call. Now it was all screwed up.

Damn OmniWorld! Damn the shifter world! And damn her own stupidity!

Mike leapt to his feet from the staircase when he saw Fiona and bounded across the marble floor to her side. Her heart clenched when his muscled body enveloped her.

“Are you all right?” He held her at arm’s length, his gaze sweeping over her body as if he checked for injuries.

“Did you find any clues about the shooter?” she asked, trying to forget the rush of sensations his closeness caused.

He held out his hand, revealing brass casings and a couple of bullets. “Some spent shells in an open construction site across from the rooftop. The bullets appear to match the ones from the wall in your living room. I’ll have to have a ballistic test run to be positive.” He paused and studied her. “Do you usually have business dinners on the rooftop?”

She thought she heard a thread of jealousy in Mike’s voice, but his face appeared calm. She twisted so she could see George. He’d told Mike she was having a business dinner? He was really protecting his boss from her.

“Sometimes,” she lied. Then she added to the deceit. “Rooftops are one of the most secure spots in the city. Intruders can’t hear what’s being said.”

“They’re also the most dangerous. There’s no way to defend such an open area. How did Morrison take the shooting?”

“He’s alive and doing okay after the initial shock.”

George snorted. She turned and shot him a warning look.

“He didn’t want to notify the cops?”

“I convinced him not to. You don’t need to worry about him.”

Another snort escaped from George. Fiona spun away from Mike, glared at George, and set her handbag on the hall table by the door. “I’m really tired, Mike. Can we continue this in the morning?”

“No problem. The adrenalin drain can be a bear.”

He moved to where she stood and slid his arm around her waist. “Are you okay?”

She sidestepped out of his embrace. A hurt expression skittered across his face.

“Absolutely,” she said quickly, in hopes of appeasing him. “I know you and George have my back. I’m fine.” Then she ran across the entry and up the staircase to the safety of her bedroom.

The room wasn’t a safe haven for long. In less than fifteen minutes a soft knock sounded on her door. She leaned on the wooden surface and breathed deeply. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mike. Can I come in and talk to you?”

Her fingers itched to open the door, but she resisted. Talk would lead to confession about kissing Kyle, if she could find the words. She didn’t want to confess. She wanted to pretend she and Mike, not she and Kyle, were standing together in the moonlight, kissing.

If she couldn’t find the words to confess, talk might never happen. Mike might take her in his arms and kiss her and make love to her. There was no way she could handle two romances, even if one wasn’t real.

The only other option was to tell Mike what she planned to do. If she did, he’d stop her. After all, it was his job to protect her.

“Not tonight, Mike. Go away, please.” She turned the thumb lock on the handle and ran to her bed, sobbing.

Mike heard her soft cries, and he tried the door. Locked. Sliding to the floor beside her room, he waited until her sobs disappeared before leaving.

She lied about being okay. She hadn’t cried this hard the first time she’d been shot at. Talking about what happened would help. He had to find a way to break through her wall to guide her through the perilous emotions.

He did a sweep of the house, checking the doors and windows. Then he went to the guest cottage. George studied the monitor system, flipping from screen to screen, a carafe of coffee on the table beside his computer.

Retrieving a mug from the kitchen, Mike poured a cup of the strong brew. Then sat opposite George and laid the bullets from the first and second attacks on the table. “You’re one-hundred percent positive this Morrison fellow is clean?” Mike asked.

Without looking up, George replied, “One-hundred and ten percent. Apparently, his quick thinking is what saved them both. Using the metal table as a shield was smart.”

“What are the odds a metal table would be there?”

“I’d say pretty good. People use rooftops as patios all the time, and a lot of patio furniture is metal.”

Mike studied his employee and friend. Something was off. What was George hiding? “If he’s not out to kill her, what does the man want? He appears out of nowhere right after she gets shot at. Then she’s suddenly as tight with him as a new jock strap.”

George looked up from the computer screen, an incredulous expression on his face. “A jock strap? You can’t think of a better image?” He lowered the computer screen halfway and stared directly into Mike’s eyes. “You’ve got it bad. You know, buddy, I owe you an apology. I should have never urged you to screw Fiona. It’s messed you up.”

George didn’t know the half of it. All he could think about, when he wasn’t chasing the men who stole the babies, was Fiona.

Mike shoved the casings and spent bullets toward George. “Get these to our ballistics guy. Then check Morrison for gun registry.”

George snorted at him. “Your normally sharp investigative senses are skewed. You’re seeing conspiracies where they don’t exist. He’s not out to kill her. Trust me.”

“But what if he is? What if he’s got some nefarious connection with the Mafia or this OmniWorld she keeps talking about?”

George raised the computer screen and locked his gaze on it. “New rule, Mike. Only screw the ones you don’t care about.”

Too late. He’d already fallen for this one. He wouldn’t be screwing anyone else.