“You think the assignment is beneath you?”
Damn right. “I’m not doing security detail for—I’m not working for a dog, sir.”
“You’ll be working for Miss Landon.”
And that was the other reason he had to say no, a bigger reason really than the dog.
“Miss Landon specifically wants someone from our team.”
“Maybe someone—”
“Everyone else is on assignment. It’s four days. Quick work. Easy money.”
He liked that last bit, but the answer was still no. “It’s punishment for messing up the Whitman case, isn’t it?”
Welkins didn’t say anything for a full minute, but Nash caught a nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of the man’s mouth.
“You were supposed to be protecting Mrs. Whitman from her ex-husband, not holding him down while she put a gun to his head. His lawyer is frothing at the mouth. Do you know how much this could cost the company?”
He had a fair idea. And it burned his ass that the law would probably take Whitman’s side after all the years it had failed to protect his wife from him.
It had taken two decades of misery for Mrs. Whitman to gather up enough courage to file for divorce. She had money in spades. But money couldn’t buy her happiness. Thank God she’d finally realized that it could buy her some serious protection.
Whitman wouldn’t go anywhere near her again. But he’d decided to pick another fight, this time with WSS, hiding behind his fancy lawyers.
“I should have taken him out,” Nash said, looking at his feet and shaking his head, talking more to himself than Welkins.
“You should not have taken him out. You’re no longer in the mountains of Afghanistan. You are in the protection business. Do you understand that?” Welkins watched him as if he weren’t sure whether Nash really did, as if Nash might not be a good fit for the team after all.
And maybe he wasn’t. He was trained as a killing machine. Maybe he wasn’t good for anything else.
“You need to learn to pull back.” Welkins’s tone was more subdued as he said that.
A moment of silence passed between them while Nash thought over the incident. “I can’t regret anything I did on that assignment, sir. But I do regret if my actions caused any difficulties for the company and the team,” he said at last.
“Then take one for the team.” Welkins’s sharp gaze cut to him.
And Nash knew he was sunk. Loyalty was the one thing he would never go around, the trait he appreciated most in others, the one value he would never compromise on.
His lungs deflated. He hung his head and rubbed his hand over his face for a second.
Four cursed days at the Vegas Dog Show, guarding celebrity heiress and media darling Kayla Landon’s puff poodle, Tsini. If the boss wanted to unman him, it would have been easier to castrate him and be done with it.
The one ray of hope in the deal was that Kayla Landon had a host of assistants. She probably had a professional team showing off her dog for her, so he wouldn’t actually have to come face-to-face with her and the hordes of paparazzi that usually followed.
What kind of dog received death threats anyway? He couldn’t see something like that happening to a real dog like a rottweiler or a German shepherd.
“All right.” He pushed the words past his teeth with effort. “I don’t think a consultation with Miss Landon will be necessary.” Please. If there was a God.
“No, indeed. I have already consulted with her.”
For the first time since he’d walked into the office, Nash relaxed. Then Welkins smiled.
Terrible suspicion raised its ugly head.
The heavy smell of doom hung in the air.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
“Because of the threats, Miss Landon will be traveling with her dog-show team to Vegas. You’ll be working with her 24/7.”
He closed his eyes for a minute. Her nickname was Popcorn Princess. Seriously. And he was going to have to take orders from her. Oh, hell. Was it too late to go back to the military and sign up for active duty in some combat zone instead?
“Let me spell this out. Don’t try to fix the client’s life. Don’t make this personal. Go in, get the job done, get out and collect the payment.” Welkins looked at Nash with something akin to regret. “You can’t afford to tick off anyone else.”
Meaning if he didn’t please Miss Landon, he would probably not have a job when he came back.
And the demand for washed-up commando soldiers wasn’t exactly great in the current job market. Especially for those with a near-blank résumé, since one hundred percent of his missions for the government had been top secret.
He was no longer fit for that job, or most others. But he had to keep working. Because if he stood still long enough without anything to do and occupy his mind, the darkness tended to catch up with him.
He thanked Welkins and walked out, knowing one thing for sure. Empty-headed socialites and puffy-haired poodles notwithstanding, no matter what happened, he couldn’t mess up this assignment. If he lost Welkins and WSS, he’d have nothing left.
“SO CLOSE to perfect it’s scary. I’m definitely a genius.” Elvis, her makeup artist, focused critically on her left eyebrow and did a last-minute touch-up with the spoolie. “Ay mios dio. You’re so fabulous, no one will pay any attention to the food.”
Her penthouse condo, in the most exclusive part of Philadelphia, was buzzing with activity. Kayla Landon worked on blocking out all the distractions. And kept failing.
“Let’s hope I don’t mess up any ingredients.” Not that she thought she would. She was feeling decidedly optimistic today, or rather had been. She normally used makeup time to relax, but now found herself watching the new bodyguard from the corners of her eyes instead.
Her uncle had insisted on him. She half regretted already that she’d caved. She didn’t want to have to deal with him, with the adjustment of a new man on her team.
He was gorgeous, in a scary sort of way. Six feet two inches of sinew and hard muscle, and a don’t-mess-with-me look in his amazing gold eyes. That and a strong dislike for her.
She wasn’t surprised.
Most men she met either hated her or wanted to screw her on sight. For the moment, she didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed that Nash Wilder seemed unequivocally in the first camp.
He was taking stock of her, her home and her people.
She made him wait, mostly because she could tell that it annoyed him, and also because she needed a few moments to gather
