considered, it shouldn’t be too difficult. He nodded. “All right.”
Guy’s lips twitched with humor. “There are worse things in life than going to a lingerie show,” he added. “Leggy, half-naked models parading about and all. Consider it a perk.”
Griff grinned. There was that. He hadn’t been with a woman, naked or otherwise, in months. No time. Between deployment, surgery and recovery, he’d had very little opportunity to find comfort in the softer sex. While he’d been recuperating at his mother’s, one of Glory’s friends had visited frequently and had less than subtly let him know that she was available, but Griff knew the minute he showed the least little bit of interest, his mother and sister would have him married off before he could say “I don’t.”
In fact, the settle-down-and-find-a-nice-girl refrain had been coming off his mother’s lips a little too frequently for comfort, particularly considering he had no plans—immediate or otherwise—to marry. He carried the Wicklow gene, Griff thought darkly, and, based on family history, Wicklows were incapable of being faithful.
It wasn’t a theory he was willing to test.
Thankfully, he’d never met a girl who’d made him want to risk it.
Besides, he already had a family to take care of, the one he’d had since he was almost thirteen years old—his mother and sister.
“Do you have any questions?” Payne asked.
Griff shook his head, tuned back in to the present conversation. “None that I can think of at the moment.”
“All right, then.” Payne stood, signaling the end of the briefing. “I think that about covers it. You know where to find us if you need anything.”
Griff and the others found their feet, as well. He shook Payne’s outstretched hand. “I don’t anticipate any problems.”
Payne merely smiled, but didn’t comment.
Griff had almost reached the door when a thought struck. He stopped short and turned around. “The Rossi representative? They’re aware that I’m in charge, right?” Considering their company had designed the bra, he could see where they might feel a certain ownership. He didn’t want to waste precious time and energy on a power struggle.
Something flitted across Payne’s face—humor, maybe?—so fast Griff was inclined to believe he’d imagined it. Jamie suddenly developed a keen fascination with the toe of his shoe and McCann turned a small chuckle into a pitiful replica of a cough.
A finger of unease nudged Griff’s spine.
“The Rossis are aware that you were hired by Montwheeler and that, as such, you’re the ultimate authority on how to protect the piece.”
Good, Griff thought, still puzzled over their odd behavior. He was accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question. That this Rossi person had been made aware of the status quo should make his job easier. He could always pull rank, of course, but it was better if he didn’t have to.
Determined to get started, he nodded and made his exit. He’d just walked into reception when Juan Carlos, their office manager, halted him with an urgent psst.
Griff frowned and walked over to the thin Latino man’s desk. Juan Carlos wore a perpetually long-suffering look and the latest in men’s fashion, and sorted his ink pens by color. “Yes?”
Juan Carlos slid a picture across his desk. “Does this woman look familiar?”
Griff picked up the photo and studied it. One look had confirmed that he didn’t know who the woman was, but he was curiously struck by her nonetheless. Inexplicably, his stomach tightened and a tingling sensation flitted through his chest. He told himself it was indigestion and batted the curious sensation away.
Long, wavy dark brown hair framed a face that was heart-shaped but lean, emphasizing her high cheekbones and lush mouth. Her skin was luminous, practically glowing with good health and vitality. It looked soft, touchable. Her eyes were large, an unusual misty gray and surrounded by thick, sooty lashes. Hidden humor lurked in that gaze, as though she was privy to some private joke. She was smiling, almost shyly, and there was something about that hint of vulnerability that made her especially attractive. She wasn’t merely beautiful or pretty, though those words certainly fit. She was...lovely.
And hot.
Oddly shaken, Griff handed the photo back to the office manager and shook his head. “She doesn’t look familiar, sorry.”
Juan Carlos swore hotly under his breath. “Damn them. This isn’t funny anymore. They can’t keep playing the same joke on every new agent. It’s not professional.”
Joke? What joke? Confused, Griff frowned. “Come again?”
Juan Carlos straightened, then seemed to give himself a little shake. “No worries, Major Wicklow, you’ll recognize her soon enough,” the little man said grimly. He gathered up a sheaf of papers from his desk, then stood and swiftly retreated before Griff could press him for further clarification.
Rather than dwell on the bizarre exchange, Griff shook it off. After all, he had a strategy to plan...and a very expensive bra to protect.
* * *
PAYNE WAITED UNTIL he was certain Griff was out of earshot and then turned to face the other two. He arched a questioning brow. “First impressions?”
“I don’t think we could have matched him up to a better first assignment,” Guy said, dropping back into his chair. “If anyone needs to be able to find the humor in a situation, it’s him.”
Jamie nodded thoughtfully. “I agree. Granted, he hasn’t had a lot to laugh about of late, but by all accounts he’s always been rather...serious.”
Thanks to Charlie, their female hacker extraordinaire, they knew more about Griff than he’d no doubt be comfortable with. School records showed a well-rounded, bright, promising athlete until the seventh grade. Beyond that, various counselors and teachers had noted a distinct withdrawal from social clubs, sports and the like. By all accounts, Griffin had abandoned normal school-age pursuits and started working various odd jobs. He cut grass, hauled hay, raked leaves, bagged groceries, walked dogs, anything that would net him a cash return for his services. And the impetus that had caused this change?
His father had left.
As the only “man” left in the house, amateur analysis suggested that he’d prematurely stepped up to try to fill his father’s role and had developed an early sense of obligation and duty. No doubt that’s what had appealed to him about the military, where the lines were clearly drawn and order was law. He’d earned an ROTC scholarship, graduated at the top of his class and quickly moved onto Ranger School. He’d excelled in the military, had been routinely given difficult assignments because he’d proven time and time again that he could see them through and, as a result, had been given the nickname “the Closer.”
A quick glance at his financials had revealed that, in addition to buying the house his mother and sister currently lived in, regular monthly transfers had been deposited into his mother’s account. Both his mother and sister had obtained their nursing licenses and worked for a small home-health company in Chapel Crossing, just outside the city. Payne would be willing to bet that Griff had paid for that, as well.
