a name—says she’s pretty nonchalant about the whole thing, but he’s completely freaked. She’s due to present her research at a convention in New York City on Sunday and he’s worried the person or persons sending her the letters—to her home, I might add—might try to cause her harm before she can make it there.”
“And that’s where we come in.”
“Hopefully that’s where you come in.”
Jonathan respected his boss and friend too much to turn the request down on the spot. Though he had been on the fence about it until the next day.
When she’d shown him the pictures of the letters Deacon had faxed over, they’d made a chill run up his spine despite his calm.
“Okay, I’m in.”
And he’d stayed in even after the call had come in that said scientist refused to have more than one bodyguard around. Never mind her safety was in question.
The doors slid open and Jonathan made his way to check in with a suddenly sour mood hanging over his head at the thought of Kathryn Spears. Other than the basic information about her, he really didn’t have much to go on, but he had already formed an opinion about her.
She was controlling, apathetic and had an ego. There were no doubts about it.
“Welcome, and how may I help you?” chirped the front desk attendant. He looked to be in his early twenties. His name tag read Jett.
Jonathan set down his bag and started to take out his ID.
“Check-in for Jonathan Carmichael.” He passed his driver’s license over as well as the company credit card, having done the hotel check-in dance many times before. Another part of this routine was his next question.
“Can you tell me if my friend has checked in yet? The name’s Kathryn Spears.”
The man looked back up and without missing a beat nodded.
“About an hour ago.”
That surprised Jonathan.
“You remember her?” he asked.
“Yeah, the first thing she did was ask for coffee that was actually good.” Jett didn’t seem to be offended by the question. “I sent her to a café a block over.” His eyes went over Jonathan’s shoulder. “I guess she found some.”
Jonathan didn’t have to follow the man’s gaze too far. Walking through the front doors, Kathryn had a cup between her hands and no trace of a smile across her lips. She met his stare with recognition he didn’t expect and made a beeline for him.
“Mr. Carmichael,” she said, stretching out her free hand. There was no question in the greeting. “Glad to see you finally made it.”
Despite himself he grinned.
“Miss Spears, glad to see you were able to get that coffee that was so important.” They shook and he was once again surprised by the woman. Not only was her grip firm, but she held it longer than necessary, squeezing tight as she answered.
“Two coffees, actually.”
They dropped hands but his grin stayed. Even though he’d been shown her picture before he’d left Orion, the still of the woman sitting behind a desk covered in papers didn’t do the woman before him justice. She was attractive, sure, but there was something else there that caught and held his attention. An unspoken element that he couldn’t yet place or define.
Suddenly, Jonathan Carmichael was intrigued by his client.
“I would have waited for you,” she continued, voice notably cool, “but I’ll be honest, I think you being here is a bit unnecessary.”
Jonathan let out a laugh at that, considering earlier he had thought the same about her.
“Don’t you want to play it safe rather than be sorry?” he asked.
Kathryn’s lip quirked up at the corner. Her smile wasn’t humorous.
“I’d rather not have to worry about a bodyguard following me around everywhere, watching my every move while I get ready for one of the largest career moves of my life.” She popped her hip out to the side a fraction, he noticed. “That would be my choice if I’d been given one.”
Jonathan couldn’t decide if the way she spoke was born out of ego or frustration, but he definitely felt a chill wafting from each word. Part of him instantly felt the need to defend his skills and the company that was more than just his employer but an important part of his life. However, Jett was obviously still listening in, so the bodyguard went a more judicious route.
“The Orion Security Group doesn’t force clients to hire them,” he pointed out. “It was your father who did that, and you consented. As for watching your every move while I’m on the job, I can assure you that—if I’m doing said job correctly—my eyes won’t be on you but on your surroundings, trying to keep you safe. So if you have a problem with this arrangement, it’s your father—and really, yourself—you’ll need to be speaking with.”
Kathryn didn’t immediately respond. When she did it was clipped, definitely chilly.
“Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some work up in my room.”
She started to turn to go—already testing the boundaries of his job as her bodyguard—when Jonathan smiled once again.
“Hey, I’ll walk with you on the way to mine.” She gave him a questioning look. “Oh, didn’t your dad tell you? He requested we have adjoining rooms.”
Jonathan might not have known the scientist long, but he knew he’d struck a nerve with that comment.
It was going to be an interesting few days.
* * *
KATE DIDN’T WANT to wait for the bodyguard. No matter how attractive he’d turned out to be. The picture she’d been forwarded from her father and Orion’s Nikki Waters had shown her a lightly tanned man who looked like a stock image a website might use to show an everyman, not a bodyguard. He had seemed flat, one-dimensional. Someone who would easily blend into the background and, hopefully, not bother her.
However, in person she’d been surprised to see that maybe she’d misjudged him in that department. His dark blue eyes had depth, his facial features were sharp and his goatee was trimmed and neat, matching the jet-black hair that stood an inch or two high. He wore a gray tee and jeans and he wore them well. When he turned back to the desk attendant, she even spotted the bottom of a tattoo on the back of his upper arm, peeking out under his sleeve.
Maybe Jonathan Carmichael wasn’t the type of man to blend.
“This is a massive invasion of privacy,” Kate commented as she led them into the elevator. Like the hotel, it was dated. She pressed the second-floor button and hoped above all hopes that it didn’t get stuck. Her nerves had been rubbed the wrong way, annoyed at her father and the man next to her. Getting trapped in the small space with him would most likely incite a flurry of rudeness from her. She was already having a hard time being polite without the added close proximity.
“Again,
