Suspicious Activities. Tyler Anne Snell

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Suspicious Activities - Tyler Anne Snell Mills & Boon Intrigue

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in red across her light blue car were the words Orion Bitch in big bold letters. She walked up and ran her finger across the O. It was dry. Apparently Andrew’s steam hadn’t yet gone out. The anger reserved only for him began to flame up again. She fisted her hand and retraced the words with her eyes.

      Slowly the flames abated.

      She let out a long stream of air between her dark red lips and wondered if trying to find a suitable date would always be this hard.

      * * *

      JACKSON GOT HIS first chance to score some points with his new boss early the next morning. His phone belted out a series of rhythmic beeps until he woke up, alert and ready to throw a punch. It took him a few seconds to fight out of the disorientation of sleep to realize someone was calling.

      The number was unknown but looked familiar. He answered it, cautious.

      “Hello?”

      “Hi, is this Jackson Fields?” a woman asked. He couldn’t place the voice.

      “This is.”

      “Good! This is Kelli Tranton, filling in as the Orion secretary.”

      Jackson thought back to the name. It definitely sounded familiar. “Tranton...”

      “My husband is Mark, one of the lead agents.”

      Bingo.

      “Jonathan mentioned him,” he said.

      “Funny you should say that, because Jonathan is the one who told me to call you,” she said with a laugh.

      That made Jackson pause. He’d had the job less than twenty-four hours and now he was getting called in already? Looked like this job’s pace was a bit quicker than he’d originally thought. “What’s up?”

      “Nikki called with car trouble, which normally wouldn’t matter on the weekend, but we have a conference call with a potential client in about an hour. I was going to go get her, but Jonathan said that you might benefit from showing the boss you don’t mind working above and beyond what’s required.” She said the last part like she was repeating a direct quote.

      Maybe Jackson wasn’t the only one who thought he needed to get back in Nikki’s good graces. “Yeah, I can go grab her.”

      “Great,” she chimed. “And good luck!”

      Jackson hoped he wouldn’t need luck for the simple task of taxiing his boss to work but, either way, he dressed with speed and headed out.

      Half an hour later he was standing in front of apartment 203, knuckles rapping against the weathered door. To his surprise, the almighty boss woman didn’t live in a new construction but an older complex that didn’t even have a buzzer. It was interesting to find that a woman who had created a security organization didn’t live with an ample amount of, well, security. Anyone could simply walk through the shared front entrance and up the public stairs to her door.

      It concerned him and he didn’t know why.

      “Coming,” he heard on the other side of the door. Moments later the dead bolt slid open and the chain lock fell. Then it was just Nikki staring, obviously surprised, at him.

      “You aren’t Kelli,” she stated, door not fully open. Instead of the not-so-work-appropriate outfit she had been sporting the night before, Nikki wore a pair of light blue jeans, a dark red blouse and black heels. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun, while her makeup was toned down, lips glossy instead of dark red. This was a casual look, he was sure. One she probably didn’t take on during the week.

      Jackson was surprised that he still found her sexy as hell.

      “I was sent instead,” he said, avoiding implicating Jonathan.

      Nikki didn’t look disappointed, but she didn’t look pleased, either. She reached beside the door and grabbed a purse that made her casual outfit somehow more proper and began to shut the door. Her face was pinched, concentrated, and she looked like she’d not slept well at all.

      “So, what’s wrong with your car?” he asked, trying to make conversation as they trailed down the stairs and into the lobby. “My uncle was a mechanic. Taught me some things. I could take a look really quick.”

      Nikki tensed.

      “I’m sure it’s nothing too serious,” she said, oddly dismissive. “I just didn’t have time to take it in this morning. I’ll do it later.”

      Jackson looked at his watch.

      “We have enough time to make your meeting,” he tried. “Come on, I don’t mind. It might just save you a trip to one of the price-gouging shops around here.”

      As he was talking, he switched directions and started to walk out the back door toward the parking. He wasn’t a grade-A mechanic, but he had been taught enough. What better way to get on Nikki’s good side than by potentially fixing her car? Even taking the time to at least look at it should score him some more points, right?

      “Don’t worry about it,” she said, walking the other way.

      If he hadn’t been as eager as he was—a word he liked better than stubborn—he would have followed. Instead he swung open the back door and stepped outside, eyes already searching for a car that would just scream Nikki Waters. However, the question of what she drove died on his tongue. Less than a foot out, he spotted a blue four-door in the corner of the lot. The words Orion Bitch could be seen through the windows of the car next to it.

       Chapter Three

      Nikki sighed heavily behind him.

      “Your car trouble is graffiti,” Jackson deadpanned.

      “Yes. Now can we go?” Nikki placed her hands on her hips.

      “Is there anything on the other side?”

      He could tell she was holding back an eye roll when she answered.

      “Yes. It says the same thing.”

      Jackson raised his brow, but the woman was already retreating. He followed without a word to the temporary roadside parking. She didn’t have to ask what car was his. Nikki walked up to his Ford and waited for him to unlock it, quickly opening the door herself.

      She was definitely a fan of control.

      “So I guess you really did do your research on me,” Jackson said when he settled in. “You didn’t have to ask which car was mine.”

      “We’re very thorough with our vetting process. We like to have all the facts.”

      “We? But aren’t you the boss? Aren’t you the one who makes all the final decisions?”

      Nikki smiled; the look wasn’t particularly kind.

      “That may be true, but I’m a team player,” she said. “I never

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