Her hands shook as she pressed the phone to her ear. “Yes, I’m here.”
“I need you down on the Bayport Terminal ASAP.”
“Tell him,” Delia whispered.
With Delia staring at her like her gaze could bore a hole into her conscience and Jackson’s voice sending goose bumps across her skin, Ysabel shook her head. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” Jackson asked. “I need you here now! And set up a meeting with the Aggie Four—Flint McKade and Akeem Abdul—for first thing in the morning. We’ve got big problems.”
Ysabel resisted the urge to pull out a pen and jot down his instructions on the handy notepad she kept in her purse. She took a deep breath and straightened. It was now or never. “I quit.”
“You what?” Jackson shouted.
Ysabel held the phone away from her ear until Jackson stopped yelling. “You heard me. I quit.”
“That’s what I thought you said. I don’t know what’s going on, but quitting at this point in time is not an option. Get down to the terminal now!”
It was just like the man to ignore her when she wanted something. Ysabel’s stubborn streak set in with a vengeance. “Maybe you didn’t understand what I just said.”
“I understood just fine. I also have an employment contract that requires you give me two weeks notice.” Jackson paused, breathing heavily in the phone. “Look, I’ve had a lousy voyage with a man gone overboard. You sent me a trainee when I just got back in town, a crate full of what I thought were Rasnovian saddles just exploded in front of me, I have a dead man lying at my feet and the police are trying to arrest me for murder. Either you get down here now or I’ll sue you for breach of contract!”
Chapter Two
“I tell you, as far as I knew, the box contained hand-crafted Rasnovian saddles, not explosives.” Jackson held his temper in check. Now was not the time for letting loose. Not with a rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth detective ready to accuse him of God knew what.
Detective Brody Green nodded toward the area surrounded in yellow crime scene ribbon, a snarling sneer lifting his upper lip. “Obviously, the box wasn’t full of saddles. Our crime scene experts are leaning toward explosive detonators. Would you care to explain that?”
Jackson’s back teeth ground together. “Champion Shipping doesn’t transport explosives or detonators. Nowhere on my manifests was this indicated or I would have put a stop to it before it left the port of embarkation.”
Brody’s lips twisted into a mirthless smile. “Right. Still, I’ll need to question you and all your employees involved in the loading and unloading of this particular ship. And I’ll bet the Department of Homeland Security will want to talk with you as well.”
“Fine. I have nothing to hide.” Jackson ran a hand through his hair and looked around for the hundredth time. Where was Ysabel?
As if reading his mind, Tom, the executive rotation trainee, stared down at his watch. “She said she’d be here in twenty minutes. That was…twenty minutes ago.” He looked across the container yard and grinned. “Just like clockwork. How does she do it?”
The skin on the back of Jackson’s neck tingled. He didn’t need Tom’s words to tell him Ysabel was behind him. The day of reckoning had arrived and Jackson was no more prepared for it than he’d been two months ago. Face the music, Champion. Face it and lose her.
Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly turned.
Ysabel Sanchez strode across the heated concrete, her heels clicking, her long straight hair swaying around her shoulders in a curtain of light. Her full hips mesmerized him in the glare of the overhead lights.
Jackson’s mouth went dry and his groin tightened. Two months should have erased all physical yearnings he might have had for his executive assistant. It worked for all the other women he’d dated since he’d escaped puberty.
Ysabel wasn’t like the other women. She carried herself as if she were a Spanish queen, poker-straight, a haughty tilt to her chin, all business and no nonsense. Yes, that was the Ysabel he wanted to remember, but he had the other Ysabel branded in his mind and every nerve ending in his body since that night he’d spent in her arms.
Jackson had witnessed the softness and tenderness beneath the hard-core front she put on for Champion Shipping. Her Spanish heritage showed in the full curve of her breasts, the light olive tone of her skin and the rounded swell of her hips. Soft, moss-green eyes saw through his soul to the man he’d hidden beneath the rough exterior since his first day in the foster care system. The woman had a knack for reading minds. If Jackson believed in magic, Ysabel Sanchez was most definitely a witch.
His hands ached for the straight, light brown hair that sifted through his fingers like strands of the finest silk. Beneath that cool, professional exterior lurked a fiery passion he hadn’t seen before. The urge to pull her into his arms and pick up where they’d left off that night in his bed nearly blew away his icy reserve. Damn the woman to hell!
Jackson suppressed a moan and struggled to keep his hands in his pockets and maintain a professional face in front of the detective and the kid. Neither of them had a need to know of his transgression or his secret lust for his executive assistant. That was his cross to bear.
Without a “Hello” or a “Good to see you” after two months out of the office, Jackson skipped the niceties and went straight for dealing with the more immediate problem. “Detective Brody, Ysabel Sanchez.”
Ysabel extended a graceful hand. “Detective.”
The detective’s eyes narrowed, his lips tightening. “Miss Sanchez.” He didn’t take her hand, just raised his notepad a degree and made a show of jotting down notes with the government black pen. “For the record, what is your relationship to Mr. Champion?” His glance skewered her.
Sensing the detective’s rising ire, Jackson jumped in and answered for Ysabel. “Miss Sanchez is my executive assistant.”
“Right.” Detective Brody’s gaze swept her from head to toe. “We should all have our very own assistant like Miss Sanchez, shouldn’t we?” A nasty smile slid across his face as he glanced at Jackson and Tom.
Tom’s brows rose and Jackson’s anger spiked to dangerous.
“Don’t overstep your boundaries, Detective,” he warned, his fists clenching at his sides. If the man wasn’t sporting a badge and a gun, Jackson would have taken a swing and to hell with the consequences.
But with a man being loaded onto a gurney for transportation to the morgue and an unexplained shipment of explosives, Jackson couldn’t afford to lose his cool. No matter how warranted.
Ysabel’s lips spread in a tight smile, her hand dropping to her side. “Could someone fill me in on what’s going on?” She glanced up at Jackson, her gaze quickly shifting to Tom.
A twinge of annoyance made Jackson’s chest tighten. So things weren’t right with her either after the two-month absence. So much for time and distance diminishing memories.
