The Tycoon's Desire. Anna DePalo
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“Okay, so Kendall is free to come and go. Unlike Taylor, who could, despite that, have some buddies on the outside helping him out. On the other hand, Kendall appears to be just a white-collar criminal. We don’t know whether he has it in him to get his hands dirty with death threats.”
She gave him a look of studied patience. “In other words, I’m working on two major cases, so I have two defendants with motives to do me wrong? Is that what you’re saying?”
He quirked a brow. “What I’m saying is, put a lid on it, petunia. Someone’s after you and we haven’t answered the who, what, and why questions yet. Until we do, it’s best if I stay here.”
Stay here? Hadn’t they settled this last night? He was going, going, gone. In fact, he should have been gone already. If she wasn’t such a sucker for coffee—not to mention pancakes for breakfast—she’d have seen him out the door an hour ago. In any case, there were so many things wrong with his suggestion she couldn’t begin to count them.
“You can’t stay here.” She added a note of finality to her tone.
“Can’t?”
“It’s not necessary.” She added repressively, “I thought we’d settled this last night.”
He glanced around in disgust. “Wake up, princess. You don’t even have an alarm system around here.”
“I’ll have one put in.”
He said dryly, “That’s exactly why I was hired.” Then added, “But putting in a security system takes time. Even a company like Rafferty Security needs a few days to do a job like this.”
She should have seen this coming the minute she got downstairs to find him flipping pancakes. The sneak. “So, I’ll stay with…” Who? She searched her brain in a hurry. Her parents? One of her brothers? The options weren’t enticing. “My parents.”
“Your parents live in Carlyle. That’s going to be quite a commute.” He folded his arms over his chest and sat back, apparently digging in for battle. “And, let’s see…” He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, if I were a criminal trying to kidnap you, I’d absolutely love the chance to follow your car home from the office on a deserted road at one o’clock in the morning.”
“One of my brothers then. Quentin, Matt and Noah all keep apartments in Boston.”
“They’re often not even in Boston. Ever since he got married, Quentin has settled down to domestic bliss in Carlyle with your friend Liz and their baby. And Matt and Noah are often on the road for Whittaker Enterprises. If you disappeared from one of their apartments, no one would discover it for hours, even a day or two.”
She knew he was right, but she rebelled at the thought. No one, least of all her family, seemed to understand that a bodyguard would raise eyebrows at the DA’s Office. She’d worked too hard at her career to have her credibility undermined by the poor-littlerich-girl image that had stalked her her entire life.
Connor unfolded his arms. “What you need is a bodyguard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “But I understand why that might be a problem for someone in your position.”
“Thanks,” she said wryly, his perceptiveness taking her by surprise. “At least you’re more reasonable than my family.”
“So,” he went on, “that’s why I’m suggesting another option. Namely, me. All anybody else needs to know is that I’m a friend of the family who’s moved in with you for a while, maybe until renovations on my own place are done.”
The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Even if he did manage to keep a lower profile than a typical bodyguard, his offer was unwise. Very unwise if last night’s kiss was anything to judge by. “I thought we’d been over this. No.”
“I’ll pick you up and drop you off at work,” he continued unperturbed, “and, as an added bonus—” he gestured to their surroundings “—I’ll stay here with you.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
He gave her a humorless smile. “Don’t worry. I’m house-trained and basically pick up after myself.”
She rolled her eyes.
He leaned in then, suddenly serious, his hazel gaze capturing and holding hers. “This isn’t a game, Allison. Someone has already vandalized your car and sent you death threats. You don’t know what he’ll do next.”
“I know.” She’d tried not to focus on the danger but, instead, on finding the perpetrator. She refused to live her life in fear—although, truth be told, hadn’t that been part of her motivation last night for being at the window, peering down at a dark street?
Connor continued, “Your family said the police are involved, but you and I both know those resources only go so far.”
She’d always known Connor Rafferty was a man who didn’t take no for an answer. He was, after all, the guy who’d climbed out of South Boston and, by the age of thirty-seven, had built a multimillion-dollar enterprise offering security systems and personal protection to big companies as well as the rich and famous.
But, she reminded herself, he was also the guy who’d hauled her teenaged butt out of a dark bar over ten years ago. The guy who still acted at times as if she were a pesky little kid, regardless of last night’s inexplicable kiss.
Fortified by that thought, she tried again for a polite brush-off. “Look, Connor, I appreciate the offer, but, as you just said, the police are on it. The DA’s Office also has detectives assigned to it.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what if I said you really don’t have a choice in the matter?”
She scoffed, then stopped abruptly as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a set of house keys. Alarm bells went off in her head. “Where did you get those?”
“When I’m hired for a job, I usually get access to the premises,” he said coolly.
She pursed her lips. She knew exactly which Whittaker to thank for giving him access. When she was through with Quentin, his ears would be ringing for days. In the meantime, she had one cagey security expert to deal with.
Quite clearly, she wasn’t simply going to be able to banish Connor as she’d like. Experience had taught her, however, that it was better to graciously call a temporary truce rather than to admit defeat. She needed time to figure out how to get him out of her house. In the meantime, she’d play along with his game.
“I see,” she said, keeping her voice a few degrees cooler than his. “Well, if you’re going to be my temporary roommate, then we should set some house rules.”
“Such as?” His tone was suspicious, wary.
“Last night was a mistake that will not happen again, got it? Unfortunately, you caught me at a weak moment, when my defenses were down.”
“That’s the idea.”
She narrowed her eyes. “As I said, it will not happen again.”
“Are we, by any