“…such a pretty little thing. Having grandchildren to dote on is such a gift, you know.”
Ah, the mention of grandkids. The older he became, the more frequently she mentioned this. Patti never came right out and asked if he was dating or serious about anyone. Instead, she dropped lines about the joy of babies in a continuation of the Rowen line. As if a squalling infant could fix anything.
As if he were a fit partner for any woman—at least his unsuitability for a relationship was the one thing he and Lisa agreed on.
He peered at his watch, assured himself that a respectable amount of time had passed, and barged in with a work excuse the next time Patti paused for breath.
The timer buzzed just as Liam blocked Aiden’s roundhouse and extended a spinning back kick into his abdomen. Aiden grunted as he stepped back, and Liam shook out his forearm, which still ached from connecting with Aiden’s shin. Aiden, who’d joined Trident Security Group a year ago, was proving to be as damn good in hand-to-hand combat as he was with a firearm.
“Yer in a mood.” Aiden’s Scottish burr sounded musical despite the fatigue. With the man’s seemingly easygoing disposition, people often underestimated the steel beneath. In truth, the former member of the Scottish Black Watch could take—and dole out—more punishment than most humans could imagine. Though lately, more and more of that punishment seemed to be quietly directed at himself. Liam suspected PTSD. Not that Aiden was willing to admit it. At least not yet.
Liam braced his elbows against the ropes, sweat dripping down the groove of his back. “You’re out of shape.”
Aiden was no such thing, but Liam felt the need to give him a hard time about missing two practices this week. Something about actually doing the work Liam was paying him to do. Plus, he was in a mood. Instead of receding, the irritation he felt at Jaz had only grown since yesterday’s confrontation. She hadn’t come around to accepting a security detail, though the danger she was courting was clear to everyone except her.
“I need a team to babysit Jazmine Keasley. Who do we have?”
“Who do you want?”
“Someone…” Female. He wanted someone female. Except Trident Security didn’t have female operatives. “Someone she won’t be able to wrap around her finger. And don’t underestimate her ability to do it.”
“Want me to take a run at her?” Aiden asked.
That was the last thing Liam wanted. Aiden hadn’t met a woman he didn’t want to take to bed, and no one was going to be taking Kyan’s little sister there. “If you’re too busy to come to practice, you’re too busy to take on the sprite.” They both knew Liam was bullshitting, but that was one of the benefits of being the boss. “But see if you can’t find a competent pair that won’t put up with a rich brat’s shenanigans. And have someone go to her place today to set up a security system. If she protests, tell the guys to lock her in the bathroom.”
The buzzer went off again, and Liam pushed himself away from the ropes. Settling into a fighting stance, he shifted his weight between the balls of his feet, taunting the Highlander into dropping his guard. Liam really needed to hit someone today—and if Aiden gave him half a chance to whale on him, he wouldn’t hold back.
3
Jaz
“What exactly are we doing here?” Sebastian asked over the blaring music that pulsated through the aptly named Pulse—Denton Valley’s premier gay club. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
“Wagging my tail.” Jaz surreptitiously inclined her head to the pair of men in dark slacks and ironed button-downs who’d followed them into Pulse. She’d met the two men, Harkness and Percey, when they attempted to invite themselves into her apartment last night. After telling them exactly where they could stick their cameras, Jaz closed the door in their faces—but not before informing them that their next attempt at breaking and entering would be reported to the police.
By this morning, Trident Rescue and Security had rented the apartment across the hall from hers and moved the pair in.
While Harkness took a post near the door and Percey settled himself on a barstool with a clear view of Jaz’s table, she filled Sebastian in on the details. His eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “Jaz, hon, if there is a jihad with your name on it, maybe this isn’t the wisest decision.”
She smoothed the fabric of her pink Cache top, the tastefully open slit over her abdomen revealing just the right amount of skin. This wasn’t the kind of place men would look at her sexually, but it was one where style would be appreciated—and evaluated—and Jaz was enjoying taking the outfit for a test drive. “There isn’t—not beyond general rhetoric. I did my research, and Sky is doing some for me as well.” Sky was an investigative journalist with a knack for uncovering reality. “It’s an excuse for my father to clamp down on my climbing, which he’s hated for years. He knows I do this for freedom, so anything to take that freedom away is alluring.”
Sebastian looked unconvinced. “And Kyan?”
“Kyan is overprotective by nature. And after what he went through in Afghanistan, he isn’t exactly rational when it comes to anyone mentioning explosives.” Jaz ran her finger over her wineglass, a rare bit of vulnerability seeping through her facade. “I’ve worked so hard to get out from under their shadow, Bastian. There’s this ball of fear inside me that if I don’t do this now, I never will. The Clash of the Titans has to come on my terms, not anyone else’s.”
It took Sebastian only a heartbeat to think before he nodded in collusion. “Tell me what you need.”
Jaz smiled wickedly. “Can you have one of your friends buy a drink for my two brave guards at the bar? I’m heading to the restroom and out the window—it’s only one floor up, and the wall outside is child’s play for bouldering.”
Returning to her apartment, Jaz hung a smiley face outside her door and headed off to bed. Harkness and Percey didn’t know it yet, but they were all going for a run the following morning, and Jaz wanted some sleep. A few days of this—a week at most—and Liam would have so many complaints from his employees that he’d do the work on unnegotiating the arrangement on Jaz’s behalf.
If Harkness and Percey were less than excited about a 4:00 a.m. run—which they did in their boots—they let none of the distress show in their faces. Instead, they kept pace with Jaz’s sprints and recoveries without complaint, which was disappointing. Jaz kept them outside and moving until she was certain that their lack of running shoes had gifted them blisters.
Well, if nothing else, busting her security detail’s balls was going to help keep her in shape.
Jaz’s shadows proved themselves quick studies, however. By the third day, they’d figured out Jaz’s habit of taking punishing runs at any time of day, and started carrying workout clothes and water in their rucksacks as they followed her about. Which meant it was time to up the stakes.
On Friday evening, Jaz zipped up an oversized jacket over her clothes before going into the hallway. Sitting openly in front of the security camera, she began tying her pink running shoes. A moment later, Percey was out in the hall with her, his own running shoes in hand.