Книга - Best Man for the Job

Best Man for the Job
Meredith Fletcher


The WarriorA soldier by profession, a lone wolf by choice, Callan Storm doesn't believe in coincidence. So when the groom–his baby sister's fiance–is snatchec at gunpoint he looks to the one other unexpected element at the bachelor party: the entertainment.The DancerSuddenly Eryn McAdams's favor for a friend has landed her in real trouble. Pulled along by the strong, silent, intense hunk of a man, the security expert is torn between showing Callan just what she can do– and figuring out a way just to stay close.The Team?The clock is counting down, the bullets are flying, and secrets are being uncovered–but what else will happen once the night is over?









“Let me present, the lovely Can—dy!”


Taking her cue, Eryn surged up, flipping the top layer of the cake back and standing tall. For one satisfying moment, Eryn spotted Callan on the other side of the room. The big man stood near the balcony doors, totally fixated on her. At that moment, the suite’s door crashed inward and a group of men wearing ski masks invaded the room. They carried pistols and small machine guns. A masked man grabbed one of the guys at the party and put a pistol to his head. Another masked man fired a burst that punched out glass from the balcony doors.

“Get down on the floor! Do it now and you’ll live!”

“Like” us on Facebook at facebook.com/RomanticSuspenseBooks and check us out on www.Harlequin.com!


Dear Reader,

The idea for this story came to me in a dream. The mercenary heartthrob looking out for his baby sister is a definite winner for me. An Officer and a Gentleman still gets me. Callan Storm hasn’t had the benefit of that pristine life in the military, though. He’s a behind-the-scenes operator, a member of a Black Ops group, and he doesn’t trust much. I do love those rugged guys who will see a promise through to the end no matter what risks they take.

I wanted to give Callan someone he could trust—eventually. But I didn’t want her to appear totally together and at her best because then the professional side of my school of hard knocks soldier might recognize a kindred spirit. So I stashed security specialist Eryn McAdams inside a cake at a bachelor’s party. And I made her a last-minute change in the lineup. I thought, Callan will never trust anyone like that when something goes wrong. I was right! Join them for the night of their lives when everything changes—at the speed of a bullet.

Happy reading!

Meredith Fletcher




Best Man for the Job

Meredith Fletcher





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




MEREDITH FLETCHER


lives out west where the skies are big, but still close enough to Los Angeles to slip in for some strategic shopping. She loves old stores with real wooden floors, open-air cafés, comfortable boots, the mountains and old movies like Portrait of Jennie while sipping a cup of hot cocoa on a frosty day. She’s previously written for Silhouette Bombshell and loves action romances with larger-than-life heroes and heroines with pithy repartee. She has pithy repartee herself, but never when she seems to need it most! She’s much more comfortable at the computer writing her books. Please contact her at meredithfletcher@hotmail.com (mailto:meredithfletcher@hotmail.com) or find her at www.whatmakesmyheartbeatfaster.blogspot.com (http://www.whatmakesmyheartbeatfaster.blogspot.com).


For Montana, a great little mother.

And for Mary-Theresa Hussey,

for all the laughs and guidance.




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue




Chapter 1


“You’re not the girl I was expecting.”

Choking down the immediate surge of irritation that raced through her, Eryn McAdams studied the tall man blocking her path into the hotel suite. She’d just come from a day filled with dealing with macho security types treating her like a “girl.” She was only here now as a favor to a friend. It just went to show that no good deed went unpunished. She sheathed a cutting remark and took a breath as she surveyed the guy blocking her way.

At least six foot three or four, he was broad shouldered, narrow waisted and muscular. His physique belonged to an athlete, but the short-cropped blond hair and slate-gray eyes that possessed laser intensity screamed of a military background. The gray suit fit him perfectly and his silk tie was knotted precisely. The soft brown leather shoes held a shine. If he hadn’t come across so blatantly obnoxious, he would have been attractive.

Eryn stood her ground defiantly. “Number one, I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. Number two, I’m the woman you’re getting tonight.”

The man kept his arms folded across his broad chest and didn’t move. “Where’s the other girl? The one we hired?”

Eryn couldn’t believe the guy was being so particular. Renee had told her she’d never had a face-to-face with anyone connected to the bachelor party and had only talked to someone named Toby. “She’s not coming.”

“Why?”

“She’s sick. She called and asked me to cover your party.”

The man’s mouth tightened. “Not my party.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. You don’t seem like the partying type.” Or the marrying kind. But somewhere in the back of Eryn’s mind, that place where she kept foolish thoughts, a bright he’s available light just flashed on. She ignored it. The last thing she needed tonight was man trouble. But ignoring the attractive male in front of her was hard.

The gray eyes narrowed. “Business must be good if you can sass all your customers this way.”

“I’m in a business where I’m not going to take a lot of crap or disrespect. You can’t pay me enough for that.” Eryn hated putting the gig at risk, because Renee was a single mom and needed the money, and she’d said that bachelor parties could pay really well. Only a really good friendship and a godson would get Eryn so close to naked in a roomful of strange men.

“Cal, Cal. What are you doing, dude?” Another man, younger than the guy blocking the door, stumbled over and tried to lay an arm around the big man’s shoulders. The effort was wasted because he wasn’t tall enough and he was amicably drunk. He was dressed casually, jeans and sport jacket.

“Callan. Not Cal.” The big man’s voice remained soft but carried definite authority. He was a man used to being obeyed.

“Okay…Callan.” The newcomer drew back his arm. “But, chill, dude. Don’t hassle the stripper. We’re all here for a good time, and I paid good money for her.”

Eryn counted to three. “I’m not a stripper.” She didn’t want Renee or herself to be disrespected. Entertainment was a job, a profession. The audience had to know its place up front. “I’m here as an exotic entertainer. A dancer.”

Back when she’d first arrived in Las Vegas, she’d worked as a dancer for a while. Her career still suffered from that from time to time as coworkers discovered her past, but that history also allowed her to be good at her current profession. During her dancing days, she had always been very clear about the job description.

“And you paid for the performance, not me.” She was also always very clear about what was paid for.

The drunken man smiled and shrugged. “Sure, sure, honey. No foul. Keep your shirt on. At least for now.” He laughed at his own joke and glanced at the bigger man. The big man’s sober expression never wavered and the man’s good humor disappeared.

Callan didn’t take his gaze from Eryn. He had deep, penetrating eyes. “She’s not the entertainer you hired for this.”

At first, Eryn thought the big man had referred to her as an entertainer as sarcasm, but there was no hint of that in his voice. She locked her gaze with his out of stubbornness and tried not to notice how beautiful his eyes were.

“That right?” The man shoved his hand out to Eryn and smiled. From the automatic way he smiled, Eryn felt certain he was a professional salesman. “I’m Toby. Best man. I’m paying for the party.”

Eryn shifted her attention to Toby and put on a high-wattage smile. She could almost hear Renee whispering in her ear. Always be polite to the guy paying the bill. Renee had taught her that when she’d first gotten into the business. Plus, shifting her attention from tall, dark and obnoxious helped dial down the unexpected interest that had flared up.

“I’m Candy.” She shifted her makeup kit and travel bag to her left hand and took Toby’s hand in her right.

“Yes you are.” Toby winked at her.

“But I’m not the entertainer you hired for the evening. My friend ended up sick a couple of hours ago. She asked me to cover for her.”

“The other girl was blonde, right?”

Eryn ignored the gender terminology this time. The guy paying the bills was allowed certain liberties, and they stopped where she said they stopped. “My friend? Yes.”

Toby leered at Callan. “You ask me, we’re trading up. Daniel has a thing for blondes, which should make your sister happy. But I’ve always been partial to brunettes.” He glanced back at Eryn. “And you’re smoking hot, baby.”

“Thanks.” Eryn tried to sound like she meant it as she took her hand back from Toby. She held up her travel bag and makeup kit. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”

“Sure, sure. Right this way.” Toby waved her inside the hotel suite.

Callan didn’t move.

“C’mon, sarge, let the lady through. We don’t have all night.” Toby looked uncomfortable and not even close to being demanding. “After all, how many bachelor parties are we going to throw your future brother-in-law?”

With obvious reluctance, Callan stepped aside. Eryn slid by him with difficulty. Her shoulder brushed against his chest and discovered he was solid as a brick. Before she could completely ease by, he took her bag and kit from her with ease.

“Hey.” Eryn reached for her things.

“Let me help you. Bedroom’s this way.” Somehow Callan turned his body so she couldn’t get her property back, and in one long stride he was beyond her reach.

Eryn glared at Toby. “What’s with this guy?”

“He’s protective of his sister.” Toby scratched the back of his neck and looked embarrassed.

“Is she here?”

“No, of course not. What kind of bachelor party would that be?” Bemused, Toby shook his head. “Callan’s okay. Just…intense. Protective of his sister, protective of his future brother-in-law, I guess. Jenny, his sister, told me he was a control freak.” He held up his hands. “But look, don’t worry about things. You’re going to come out of this okay. I’m a big tipper. So are the rest of Daniel’s friends. This’ll be fun.”

You better hope so. Eryn wanted nothing more than to get her things back and leave, but Renee was counting on her.

Raising a child alone was expensive. Eryn walked through the expensive suite into the bedroom where Callan had disappeared.



When he reached the bedroom, Callan tossed the travel bag and makeup kit onto the bed. He didn’t like surprises and he didn’t like changes. Ops, even bachelor parties, were supposed to run smoothly. When things didn’t run efficiently, situations got difficult. Or dangerous.

And the woman was definitely a surprise. She was just too competent, unafraid. Normally he liked that in a woman, but tonight she irritated him because he hadn’t known she was coming and she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would come out of a cake in a roomful of horny, inebriated men she didn’t know.

The makeup kit wasn’t locked and he went through it quickly. He’d just picked up the locked travel bag when the woman walked in. She stopped in the doorway and gazed at the open makeup kit.

“I don’t like people going through my things.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

She was beautiful. At least five-ten with long legs, a trim build with generous curves, and a headful of curly dark brown hair. Her eyes were blue-green, as watchful as a cat’s. Her mouth was a little too wide, but it looked fine on her. She wore a simple black dress that allowed her to fit in anywhere in Las Vegas’s night scene.

Callan swallowed with difficulty and tried to drag his gaze from her, finally managing it with difficulty.

She crossed her arms. “The travel bag’s locked.”

“I noticed.”

“Want me to open it for you?”

“Not necessary.” Callan took out a lock pick set he’d already palmed and worked both locks. They popped open in seconds. Then he searched through the bag’s contents. Panties, G-strings and an array of neon-colored sexy underthings filled the bag. Just to be sure, he felt the bag’s lining as well. Lingering perfume and body powder filled his nose and made him think of how little flesh those lacy things covered.

He forced himself to think of the party as a security op. You’re in no man’s land here, soldier. In enemy territory. Don’t drop your guard.

“I keep an inventory of everything in that bag, so don’t think of taking any souvenirs.”

The woman spoke calmly, but Callan knew she was angry. If he’d been in her shoes—stilettos, and expensive from the look of them—he’d have been angry, too. He shut down the trickle of guilt he was feeling. “Alphabetical or color-coded?”

“What?”

“The list. Is it alphabetical or color-coded?” She wasn’t the only one that could be hard-nosed.

“Topographical. Based on how much they cover.”

Despite his caution, the comment caught Callan off guard and made him smile. The brunette was quick. Then he scowled. He’d learned that quick-witted women could get a soldier dead in a heartbeat. He stepped away from the bed. “Okay, you can suit up.” He headed for the door, but this time she blocked him. He looked down at her. “Either I can go and let you change, or I can stay and watch. Doesn’t make any difference to me.” But he was lying. He would have loved to have watched.

“It makes a difference to me.” The woman stepped aside dismissively and entered the room. “You can leave.”

Callan went out and headed for the big room where the party was going to take place. Daniel Steadman, his future brother-in-law, stood in the center of a dozen guys all getting happily plotzed at a wet bar set up in the corner of the big room.

Daniel was a nice guy. From the few times Callan had met him, Daniel was likable enough. But he wasn’t the kind of man Callan generally associated with. All of the men in the room were involved in big business, and that made Callan feel awkward.

He reminded himself that he was doing this for Jenny. His little sister had asked him to keep an eye out for Daniel, in case Toby and his friends got too wild. Jenny wasn’t worried about other women, strippers or entertainers, but she was worried about everyone being in Las Vegas and so far from Dallas. Accidents happened. She’d wanted Callan to shepherd the group.

“Hey, Callan. You want a drink?” Daniel, tall and good-looking, his blond hair carefully cut and styled, waved at the bar.

Callan picked up his Diet Coke from the small table by the balcony doors. “I’m good. Thanks.”

“Why don’t you come over here and join us?”

“I’m gonna catch a breath of fresh air.”

“Okay, bro. I just want you to have fun tonight. I promised Jenny I’d get you to loosen up. I’m kind of big on keeping promises to her.” Callan nodded. Me, too. He opened the balcony door, and went out into the night. He stared out at Las Vegas from the fourth floor. Standing there, he breathed in the stink of the city. Filth and raw sewage he was inured to, but he’d forgotten what smog and privileged pollutions were like. He’d been years from civilized areas, except for the few visits to check on Jenny. He’d come home for her high school graduation, college graduation, a handful of holidays and every now and then when he’d been out of action and recovering from wounds. Or planning a retaliatory move.

He sipped his drink and wondered why he was so on edge. Part of it had to do with Jenny marrying and the fact that he didn’t know Daniel as well as he wanted to. But the biggest part of it was that he felt off his game, out of his terrain.

Despite that, he thought about the beautiful woman getting dressed in one of those sexy outfits he’d discovered in the travel bag. He’d liked the way she’d stood up to him and didn’t back down, and he’d liked how she’d handled things when she’d found him going through her bags. She was cool and calm.

She was also unexpected, and that bothered him most of all. If there was one thing Callan had learned to hate, it was the unexpected.



“Look, I’m really sorry about that. Callan had no reason to treat you like that or go through your stuff.”

“It’s okay.” Eryn made herself say that even though it wasn’t okay. She was used to the wide gulf that separated the whales and major players in Las Vegas from everyone else. Her job at CyberStealth Security put her in that no man’s land every day. High rollers or not, though, she didn’t show up to get treated like garbage.

“He didn’t mean anything by it.” Toby looked uncomfortable.

Eryn looked at him and cocked a challenging eyebrow.

“He’s just a careful guy.”

“You mean, paranoid.” Eryn had recognized it because that was how she played the game when she was on the job.

Toby shrugged. “Maybe. Tell you the truth, the guy creeps me out a little. I mean, I don’t know him. He’s Jenny’s brother, but I haven’t ever seen him until tonight.”

“So what’s his story?” Eryn refolded her underwear and placed them back in the bag.

“Don’t know. He’s some kind of soldier. He’s been in Africa and the Middle East the past few years. I’ve heard he’s a mercenary or something. You ask me, he’s wired too tight.” Toby looked at her. “He won’t be a problem, though. One call to Jenny and she’ll gentle him down.”

“His sister can do that?” Personally, Eryn had her doubts. She would have bet that Callan was the kind of man no one could tame.

“That’s what Daniel says.”

“Ever seen her do it?”

“Nope.”

Eryn nodded. “If he gets out of hand, hotel security is just a phone call away.” She held up her cell. “I’ve got them on speed dial and I won’t hesitate, bachelor party or not.” She wiggled the phone. “Just so we’re clear.”

“It won’t be a problem.” Toby checked his watch. “I should probably let you get dressed.” He hesitated a second, and Eryn knew he was contemplating adding a wisecrack, like or help you get undressed, but decided against it. Lucky him.

“That would be great.”

“The cake’s supposed to arrive in a few minutes.” Toby pointed in the direction of the hallway. “Meet me outside when you’re ready?”

“I will.”

“Cool.” Toby turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Eryn focused on her costumes. Calling the wispy bits of cloth costumes was more dignified than simply thinking of them as underwear. Calling them costumes made her feel more clothed. She wasn’t overly conscientious of her body. Working this kind of job, she couldn’t afford to be conscientious any more than she could afford to take her eyes off a principal, which was what CyberStealth called the clients they protected.

But as she surveyed her inventory, she couldn’t forget about the big man. He’d thrown her with his casual disregard, and she hated that she was reacting to it as if he was a challenge. The problem was, he reminded her way too much of the jerks she had to put up with at CS Sec. She knew that a bachelor party wasn’t going to require much in the way of dressing. The less, the better, in fact. But now she wanted something that would blow Callan’s mind. Or at least his cool.

Looking over the selection, she wished she’d put in more thought about the event. But this had been such a no-brainer she hadn’t thought about it. Reluctantly, she pulled out a white camisole with matching underthings and downy wings, and a scarlet two-piece ensemble with horns that left little to the imagination.

So which would fluster Callan more? Angel or devil? She pulled them up against her body in the full-length mirror on the wall, trying first one, then the other.



Toby was leaning against the wall in the hallway when Eryn found him. He had a beer bottle in one hand and was talking casually to a couple of hotel staff manning a pink and white cake on wheels. All three men stopped talking as Eryn stepped out into the hallway. She kept a satisfied smile from her face with effort. The other bodyguards and investigators at CyberStealth couldn’t generate that effect. Her looks were part of the package that repeat customers asked for, and it irritated the men she worked with.

“Wow.” Toby’s voice was hoarse. “And I do mean, wow.”

“Thank you.” Eryn looked at the cake and saw that it had been outfitted with a selection of real cakes and desserts. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah.” Toby gestured at the cake and the two hotel staff unlatched and opened it. There was plenty of room inside for her.

Eryn stepped forward. “I assume you’re not going to simply unlatch the cake inside the suite. How do I get out?”

“Here.” One of the men showed her how to unlatch the top and fold down a section of the cake. “Makes a step so you can get out without breaking your neck.”

“Even in these heels?” Eryn lifted one of the deep red stilettos she wore.

“Don’t know about heels.”

Personally, Eryn didn’t think the staff guy had even noticed she was wearing shoes. She’d chosen the red outfit, and it worked its magic on Toby and the hotel crew. “I’ll manage.” She stepped up and scrunched down inside the cake and adjusted her horns. “What’s the groom-to-be’s name?”

“Daniel. Daniel Steadman.”

For the first time, the name sank into Eryn’s mind. She’d been focused on tall, dark and distracting. “Daniel Steadman? As in Steadman Pharmaceuticals?”

The company was located in Dallas, which explained Toby’s Texas accent. Steadman Pharmaceuticals had also been in the news lately as one of those companies making money when so many others were losing their shirts. They backed a NASCAR driver that had taken a couple of recent cups.

“Yeah. Just say the word. I’ll introduce you inside, then you can come out of the cake.”

“I’m ready.” Eryn remained crouched inside the cake as she pulled the top down. A moment later, they were in motion, banging briefly against the door. Then she rolled to a stop.

“Hey, people, how about some entertainment?” Toby’s voice boomed out over a PA system in the suite.

Eryn crouched inside the cake and felt her nervousness and reluctance melt away as adrenaline spilled through her body. Years of dance and gymnastics had trained away any performance anxiety she might have had, and she’d been just about as clothed. Martial arts and learning to deal with the whales and high rollers had sharpened her people skills.

“Let me present, the lovely Candy!”

Taking her cue, Eryn surged up, flipping the top layer of the cake back and standing tall. The second layer hit her almost across the knees. She threw her arms up and out as rock music with a heavy bass beat thundered from the suite’s surround-sound system.

For one satisfying moment, Eryn spotted Callan on the other side of the room. The big man stood near the balcony doors, totally fixated on her, drinking in the devil costume with its high-collared vest that did nothing to cover the lacy pushup bra.

Then the cake detonated. Explosions ripped through the suite, accompanied by bright fireworks that spat sparks in all directions. Some of them singed Eryn’s skin and she cried out in pain. Almost deaf, nearly blind and definitely disoriented, she held on to the sides of the cake in order to keep from falling.

At that moment, the suite’s door crashed inward and a group of men wearing dark coveralls and ski masks invaded the room. They carried pistols and small machine guns.

A masked man grabbed one of the guys at the party and put a pistol to his head. Another masked man stepped forward and fired a burst that raked three of the walls and punched out glass from the balcony doors. The sound of the shots barely penetrated the cottony deafness that filled Eryn’s ears.

“Get down on the floor! Do it now and you’ll live!”




Chapter 2


Callan reached for the pistol that should have been holstered at his hip, but his fingertips brushed his slacks and closed on empty space. He hadn’t brought a weapon to Las Vegas because security at the airports was so tight and too many questions would have been asked. The wedding was only going to take three days. He’d felt naked without the pistol, and now he felt vulnerable and helpless.

He clenched his empty hand into a fist. He focused, looking for options.

At the first explosion, he’d crouched, lifting his left arm to protect his face and save his eyesight, and taking two quick steps away from the window because broken glass often became shrapnel. The brief series of explosions echoed throughout the large room but the reinforced windows remained intact except for the bullet holes.

The attendees of the bachelor party reacted slowly, not certain what they were supposed to do. A few of them, prompted by television and action movies, fell to the ground and covered their heads with their arms or shoved their hands into the air in surrender. Partial deafness followed in the wake of the thunderous explosions and the gunfire.

Confused and uncertain, maybe a little drunk or stoned, a partygoer stood facing the men. His hands were over his head and he was crouched, but he hadn’t gone to the floor. “Hey! Hey! Don’t shoot!”

“I said, get down!” One of the men in black coveralls took a single step forward and kicked the man in the crotch. When the guy doubled over in pain, the invader slammed his machine pistol into the back of the man’s head. The impact drove the man to the ground. The invader kicked the downed man in the forehead. The man quivered, then relaxed into unconsciousness.

Callan memorized as much information as he could. Ski masks covered the faces and hair. The coveralls masked body shapes. But he studied the weapons and the footwear. The machine pistols and handguns were expensive, and probably personal equipment. The men wouldn’t throw them away. Stripping off the coveralls would give the men a different appearance almost immediately because they had clothes underneath. They weren’t carrying extra footwear. They would keep the shoes. All of them wore the same black work boots.

A unit. Callan was certain of that. They dressed alike and they moved together, didn’t talk much because they knew what they were doing. That could be a good thing, depending on what they were there to do. Callan hoped it was simple robbery. If Daniel and his friends didn’t act stupid, they would all get to live.

Slowly, Callan spread his hands out and went down to the floor. Seven hostiles stood in the room at strategic points that offered everyone fields of fire. Cold anger stirred inside Callan despite his hopeful thought. The men were professional, at least to some degree, but they weren’t willing to get too bloody with whatever they were doing. Otherwise they would have shot someone to prove they meant business.

Frustrated, his heart hammering, Callan watched in silence as the invaders swiftly worked the room.

“Billfolds and cash out on the floor.” The speaker wore dark brown work boots that laced up to his midcalf. He’d been the one who had flattened the guy who’d moved too slowly. “We want your money and credit cards. All of it. Try anything stupid and you’re going to leave the hotel in a body bag.”

Callan reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He wasn’t worried about the money. He kept only a little cash in the wallet. The rest was in his pocket and in his hotel room. He knew how to travel in potentially unfriendly environments, spread it out so it wasn’t all seen or lost at one time. Despite the neon welcome mat in Vegas, he knew the city held predators. All metropolitan areas did. Small villages drew hunters as well, but they couldn’t hide as quickly. He’d hunted predators nearly all his adult life.

He shoved the wallet beyond the reach of his hand. He pressed the left side of his face against the carpet. The smell of cleaning solvent burned his nostrils and almost made him sneeze. He watched, looking for the leader. Units tended to cycle around the guy in charge.

One of the invaders pulled a dark green plastic garbage bag from a coverall pocket. He handed his weapon to another man, then walked around the room collecting wallets and cash.

Callan drew a breath. The men were careful, seasoned. They knew how to work a hostile crowd. As the man with the bag made his rounds, another man crossed over to Daniel. The man hooked a big hand in the back of Daniel’s shirt and yanked upward.

“Get up.”

Scared, face red with panic, Daniel got up. He looked confused and lost, more like a boy than a man.

Callan pushed the thought from his mind. The assessment wasn’t fair. He didn’t know his sister’s fiancé, but there was no way Daniel was prepared for what was taking place in the hotel room. Everyone in that room was afraid. Callan knew he was afraid, too, but he was better at working with his fear.

“What do you want?” Daniel spoke more calmly than Callan would have expected.

Good job, kid. Keep your head and you’re going to be okay. Callan hoped that was true.

The man slapped Daniel’s face hard enough to turn his head. Daniel stumbled but the man grabbed his shirt and pulled him up.

“Don’t talk. Talking will only get you hurt. Do what I say when I say to do it.”

Blood trickled from the corner of Daniel’s mouth. He grabbed his attacker’s arm and tried to kick the man in the groin.

Kid’s got guts, but he’s gonna get himself killed. Callan knotted a fist and worked hard to keep himself down. Bruises healed quickly enough.

The invader intercepted the kick on his thigh, then backhanded Daniel in the mouth. In the next instant, the man thrust the pistol into Daniel’s bruised and battered face. The attacker rolled the hammer with his thumb.

Callan started to push himself up before he could check the movement. He froze when a gun barrel touched the back of his neck and shoved him down. The man hadn’t shot Daniel. Callan quieted himself and waited.

The man drew the weapon back almost immediately, his point made. That was professional. Making contact with a prisoner was dangerous.

“Stay still, soldier boy, and you get to live through this.”

They knew him. That fact sent an icy spike through Callan’s gut. This wasn’t just a random heist directed at a bachelor party. They knew who was going to be here, and who the guests were. That also meant the men weren’t here just for the cash. He watched helplessly, feeling his captor’s gaze. They’d put a man on just to watch him.

“You hear me, soldier boy?”

Controlling his fear and anger and frustration, Callan nodded. “Yeah. I hear you.”

Before Daniel could recover from the rough treatment he’d received, the man turned him around. A second man joined the first. After the first man thrust his machine pistol under the second man’s arm for safekeeping, he reached into one of the large coverall pockets and took out a roll of gray duct tape. He grabbed Daniel’s arms and wound tape around his wrists.

Another strip of tape covered Daniel’s bloody mouth. The next one covered his eyes.

Jenny’s voice played in the back of Callan’s mind. Callan, I know this party isn’t your kind of thing, but do it for me. I just want to make sure Daniel stays safe. Those guys can get kind of crazy, but they’re fun crazy. Not bad guys.

Callan clenched his hands into fists. Work through it. Learn what you can. They’re a unit. Seven guys that you see, gotta be more working support and extraction. They’re smart, efficient. They knew about the bachelor party. They knew who would be here. They knew about me.

Knowing about him was the biggest surprise. The work he did was kept off the grid. Not even Jenny knew everything. He’d kept that from her, not wanting his world to touch hers because he wanted her safe.

But he wasn’t sure how many people Jenny had told about her big brother being a soldier. Daniel and Toby had known. Others at the party probably. The info wasn’t secret, though Callan hadn’t spent much time around his sister.

“Everybody listen.” One of the invaders stepped into the center of the room. Although Callan couldn’t see the man’s mocking smile under the mask, he heard it in the man’s voice. “Staying alive is really simple. You stay in this room after we leave, you live.”

Callan’s mind raced. He didn’t want to lose sight of Daniel. Getting Daniel back would be harder if his location was unknown. Callan forced himself not to think that Daniel might not be coming back at all.

The man standing nearest the dancer gestured to her. “I want to take her.”

A protective urge spread over Callan as he looked at the woman. She looked frozen, wide-eyed with fear, but she watched everything going on.

She should be more afraid. Callan seized that and kept hold of the thought, turning it around in his mind. Was she a potential victim? Or a partner getting double-crossed? She didn’t cower at all and watched everything.

The invader that had addressed the room shook his head. “She stays.”

“She won’t be a problem.”

“If we’re talking about her in the middle of this, she’s already a problem.”

The man cursed vehemently and shifted his attention to the dancer. “Sorry, baby. Gotta take a rain check on that. Woulda been fun.”

Instantly Callan’s suspicions cemented. The woman was part of the kidnapping. She’d changed places with the other performer and set off the flash-bangs.

“Let’s move.” The speaker waved toward the door and the exit began. A single man went first, followed by Daniel with two men flanking him. The other four followed in quick succession.

Callan shoved himself to his feet as soon as the door closed.

“Hey!” Toby waved at him wildly, never moving from the floor. “Get down! You heard what they said!”

Knowing fear was riding the man hard, Callan ignored him. The clock was in motion and every tick took Daniel farther away from him. Jenny loved Daniel and Callan didn’t want to see his sister hurt.

The other guests had cell phones and were placing frantic calls to loved ones and to the police. Fearful conversations swelled and filled the room.

In four quick strides, Callan reached the booby-trapped cake. The woman was already on her feet. God, she was beautiful, seductive. Too bad Callan knew treachery always came in packages like that.

The woman looked far too calm and collected. That angered Callan.

She looked at him. “I need a phone. I left mine with my bags.”

“You don’t need a phone.” Callan clamped a big hand on her wrist. “You’re coming with me.”

Her eyes blazed. “Coming with you where?”

“We’re going to get your friends and I’m going to get Daniel back.” Callan started for the door and yanked her after him.



Eryn couldn’t pull free from Callan’s greater size and strength. His hand felt like an iron band around her wrist. Her hearing still rang from the explosions, and adrenaline fueled her fight or flight instinct till she was just barely able to remain in control.

Your friends.

She couldn’t believe that Callan could possibly think she was associated with the men who had just taken Daniel Steadman. Where was the line of logic for that? The man was out of his mind.

Then she remembered the kidnapper’s efforts to get her to come with them. At the time, she’d been repulsed and afraid the answer would have been yes. She’d had no doubts about what the man intended.

Evidently Callan hadn’t seen things the same way.

“I need a phone.” Eryn tried to fight against him, but he dragged her after him like a rag doll without responding. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick the back of his leg, trip him, then plant a roundhouse kick right into his head. Except that she felt certain the effort wouldn’t have done any good. Callan was big and strong, and all she could do was delay both of them. For the moment, Daniel Steadman was in danger. “I can help if I get a phone.”

Still on the move, his grip almost tight enough to cut off circulation, Callan pulled her in his wake. His long legs ate up the ground.

Like most of the members of the bachelor party, Toby still lay on the floor. He had his cell out now and unlocked the screen. Eryn leaned down and plucked the phone from his hands.

“Hey!” Toby grabbed at her frantically, but she was already out of his reach.

Even if Eryn had wanted to explain, there wasn’t time. Callan was crossing the room in gigantic strides that caused her to take two to his every one. She had a hard time keeping up in the spike heels, but she managed.

She clutched the borrowed phone in her hand, then glanced at it briefly to make certain it was one she was familiar with. Knowing that the other guests would be calling the police and, hopefully, hotel security, she pulled up the phone’s camera function.

Callan barreled through the door and out into the hallway. Eryn hesitated, thinking the gunmen would make good on their promise and leave someone out in the hallway. Irritably, like a cranky parent pulling at a stubborn child, Callan yanked her into motion again.

“Where are they taking Daniel?” His voice echoed like quiet thunder in the hallway.

“I don’t know.”

“They didn’t tell you that part of the plan?”

She couldn’t believe it and didn’t even want to dignify the question with an answer, but she hoped he would listen. “They didn’t tell me any part of the plan. I’m not—”

“You just climbed in the cake, set off the flash-bangs?”

Eryn cursed him inside her mind but kept her verbal anger inside because she knew voicing her observations wouldn’t do any good. Callan was reacting emotionally, obviously worried about the kidnap victim. She remembered what Toby had told her about Callan being overly protective of his sister and how that spread to other people in her life.

She tried again. “I’m not part of this.”

Callan shot her a hard-eyed look filled with determination and resolve. That look cut right through her. “You can lie to the police. Not me.”

“I’m not lying.”

Switching his attention back to the hallway again, Callan kept moving. “They knew about Daniel.”

“The wedding’s probably in the papers. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure there might be a party in the same hotel where the wedding was going to take place.”

He grimaced. “They knew about me.”

“Knew what?”

“Don’t play games.”

“I don’t know anything about you.”

“They did. You didn’t have to. All you had to do was set off the cake.”

Eryn opened her mouth to protest at the same time Callan flicked out a hand and set off the fire alarm on the wall. Warning Klaxons roared to life and pierced the cotton in her ears. Callan glanced at the elevator bank at the next hallway.

Watching the digital numbers on all the cages dropping steadily and uniformly, Eryn suddenly understood the move. With the fire alarm engaged, all the elevators would descend to the first floor without stopping. If the kidnappers had taken the elevators, they would be momentarily trapped.

Room doors opened along the hallway as guests came out. “Is there a fire?”

“Is that the fire alarm?”

Callan brushed through the people as he headed for the emergency exit.

Impressed, Eryn looked at him. “You did that so more people would be around to identify the people who took Daniel.” The move was clever and she instantly respected it. She hadn’t thought of that, but she would definitely file it away. “Those guys will dump the masks and coveralls, but they can’t dump the hostage. You’re hoping you can get an ID from a bystander.”

Callan glared at her, then he opened the emergency exit door and dragged her through. Traversing the stairs was a lot trickier in heels than simply keeping up with Callan. She stumbled and fell repeatedly, always bumping up against that rock-hard back just ahead of her. Moving swiftly, he grabbed her again and again, righting her and keeping her moving. Her feet ached with the constant stress of navigating the steps and she hoped she didn’t turn an ankle.



The bachelor party had been on the fourth floor. Four flights of stairs later, Eryn thought they were going to enter the lobby again. Instead, Callan continued the descent into the underground parking garage.

“The elevators stop at the first floor.” Eryn turned the corner on the landing and headed down the stairs after Callan. The parking garage door was straight ahead.

“Did they plan on taking the elevator?”

“I don’t know.”

Callan shook his head. “They wouldn’t have taken the elevators. Not with Daniel. He’d be too easy to identify, and then the men who had taken him could be identified as well.”

Eryn knew that was true. Hotel security kept cameras in all the elevators. She looked at Callan’s profile, so hard it could have been carved from granite, and wondered who he was and how he knew all the things he did.

He was calm and in control. Not only that, he wasn’t even breathing hard from the pell-mell rush down the stairs. He reached for the knob and opened the door.

Car engines and voices echoed inside the cavernous parking garage. The temperature changed immediately from cool to muggy despite the fact that night had fallen over Vegas. The lows in August usually were in the seventies.

While Callan came to a dead stop and looked around like a hound on the hunt, Eryn took a deep breath filled with carbon monoxide and burned oil. Callan pulled her around to look at him.

“What are they driving?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are they taking Daniel?”

“Look, you’ve got this all wrong. I’m not—”

Thirty yards away, the side door of a cargo van slid open with a grating shrill. Interior light from the vehicle spilled out onto the parking garage and lit up Daniel Steadman and his captors. The men still wore the black coveralls. The van gaped emptily as one of the men shoved Daniel inside.

Eryn lifted the cell, pointed it at the van, and started taking digital images. The phone was expensive. She hoped the camera utility was, too, but it wouldn’t compare to a 35mm SLR. Still, there might be something recoverable later. She only managed three images in quick succession before Callan jerked her into motion.

The men climbed into the van, but not before one of them spotted Callan and Eryn. He pointed and called out a warning to one of the other men. He grabbed for the machine pistol hanging from a sling on his side.

“What are you doing?” Eryn pulled at her arm, certain they were about a heartbeat from getting shot. “Getting Daniel.”

“You’re going to get shot. You’re going to get us shot.”

Twenty yards out, Callan never broke his stride. Eryn had seen few men with that kind of single-minded intensity. Her father was one of them, and she respected him. But running into a group of armed men was suicidal.

“They didn’t shoot anyone upstairs. Maybe they’re not shooters.”

“They will shoot you. They’ll shoot me.”

Callan’s grip tightened on her wrist. “I thought you said you didn’t know these guys.”

“I don’t.”

“Then you don’t know if they’re really willing to kill someone.”

Two of the men lifted their machine pistols from inside the van. The engine caught and the driver roared backward, then braked forcefully to a stop. The men took aim, cursing loudly at the driver.

Unwilling to run into a hail of bullets to prove Callan wrong, Eryn kicked his leg out from under him and threw herself against him. She was surprised when the ploy worked. They fell hard onto the parking garage’s cement floor just as bullets struck sparks from the smooth surface and whined off into the parking garage. Bullets hammered out glass from a nearby Suburban and punched holes in the body.

The impact knocked the wind from Eryn’s lungs. She lay helpless and watched as the van roared straight at where she lay on top of Callan. The headlights flicked on and the vehicle looked like some hollow-eyed monster bearing down on them. The gunners inside the van kept firing.

Bullets slammed into nearby vehicles. Pockmarks appeared in spiderweb windows. Sparks leaped from fenders as some of the rounds ricocheted. Car alarms screeched to strident life and a light show from the stricken vehicles ignited. A cry of pain from another area of the garage caught Eryn’s attention.

Lying on her side, Eryn tried to push herself up and reach for Callan, certain they would never get clear. He roped an arm around her and flipped himself on top of her. His hard body pressed against her and for a moment her senses swam with the presence of him. Despite the motor smells beaten into the garage, she smelled him, inhaled the musk mixed with some kind of cologne that seemed familiar but was so different on him. His free hand slid up her spine and cupped the back of her head protectively as he rolled.

Eryn realized he was trying to maneuver them from the path of the advancing van but didn’t know if there was enough time. She lay pliantly against him and wrapped her arms under and over his, holding on so tight it was like they were one body. They rolled once more and the van’s tires sped by only inches away. The heat of the vehicle and the stink of the exhaust washed over them as another fusillade of bullets chopped into nearby cars.

Stunned, not believing she was still alive—or in Callan’s arms, Eryn stared up into his slate-gray eyes. Then he released her and surged to his feet like a big cat, the motion so smooth she couldn’t see the parts of it. He was suddenly just standing.

Eryn sat up, not sure if she could trust her trembling knees. The adrenaline still flooded her system and left her shaky. She’d never come so close to being killed. She looked across the garage and saw a guy on the ground. Just a tourist in the wrong place at the wrong time. Miraculously, she’d managed to hang on to the cell phone and it wasn’t broken. She called 911 to get an ambulance to him, even knowing he wasn’t alive.

At the end of the parking garage, the van cut the corner sharply and pulled into the exit lane. The tires shrilled against the pavement.

For a moment Callan stared after the fleeing vehicle, hard and cold as stone. Then he wheeled on her. “You let them get away.”




Chapter 3


Eryn stared at Callan, not believing what she’d just heard. Angry, clad in a skimpy costume, still afraid and buzzing with adrenaline, she stood on trembling legs. Despite their size difference and the volatile circumstances, she refused to back down from him.

“I let them get away?” Eryn’s words came out harsh and angry as she leaned toward Callan. “You ass! I just saved your life!”

“I had everything under control.”

“What were you going to do? Tackle that van?” Eryn snorted sarcastically, her anger momentarily overriding her fear. “I’m sure that would have worked out really well for you. They’d have peeled you off the grill. But that would have made the car easier to identify. Maybe I should have let you go.”

The planes of his face hardened. “Who are those guys? Who took Daniel?”

“I don’t know!” Eryn sipped a deep breath and looked at the phone. She pulled up the shots she’d taken, then triggered the email function and sent them to her phone back in the hotel room and to her home computer.

“Are you calling them?” Callan reached for the phone.

Eryn turned sideways and threw her shoulder into the big man’s arms to block the grab. “No. I’m securing evidence. Back off.”

“What evidence?”

This time his grab was too quick for her and he snatched the phone from her hand while she’d been focused on sending the images. She resisted the impulse to try to get the phone back. Unless she had a baseball bat or a Taser, that wasn’t going to happen until he was ready to hand it over.

“What is this?” Callan peered at the phone screen.

“What does it look like?”

“You took pictures of the van?” He studied her with hard-edged curiosity.

“Yes. If we get lucky, maybe we can enlarge those images and read the plates.”

He flicked his gaze back to the image and stared hard at it, as if memorizing every detail. “They won’t have used their own vehicle. They were too professional.” He spoke more to himself than to her.

“What makes you so sure?” The thought that the kidnappers had stolen the van had crossed Eryn’s mind. But the pictures at least gave them something to work with. Then she caught herself and couldn’t believe how easily she’d transitioned to “them” instead of her.

“They were professionals.”

“And you know professionals.”

His voice turned cold and flat. “Yeah, I know professionals.”

Eryn folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. For the first time she noticed the scars on his hand and neck. They were hard and violent, some of them recent and not the result of childhood misadventure.

Callan looked at her. Even while he’d been studying the images on the phone screen, he’d never taken his attention wholly from her. “Is this the only picture?”

“Image. No, it’s not.”

“How many more?”

“Three altogether.”

“Show me the others.” He handed her the phone.

Taking the phone, Eryn flipped through the three images. She went one more image than expected and saw a picture of her stepping into the cake. It had been taken from behind. Evidently Toby had snapped her in the hallway.

Callan took back the phone and flipped through the images the way Eryn had. He was a quick learner. “Can you save these pictures?”

“Images. I already have.”

“How?”

“I sent them to my phone and home computer.”

“This isn’t your phone.”

“What gave it away? The fact that I couldn’t have taken that shot of myself? Or the fact that I wouldn’t have taken that particular shot?”

“The fact that the underwear you have on is too skimpy to have concealed this phone.”

The comment made Eryn immediately feel uncomfortable. But she was almost scandalized at the satisfaction she took in knowing that Callan had noticed how she’d been dressed. Or, rather, undressed. Self-consciously, she covered herself with an arm, clinging to her shoulder with her hand.

“It’s Toby’s phone. I took it on the way out of the room.” Eryn knew from the wary glint in his eyes that she had surprised him. He’d underestimated her, and now he knew that he had on several levels.

Callan studied her. “Why did you take these pictures?”

“To give to the police.”

He stared at her harder and she found it difficult to meet his gaze.

“I’m not working with them.” She was surprised at how much she cared that he believed her. Her reaction was foolish, and it was wasted. One thing she knew for sure about Callan was that he was pigheaded.

Stubbornly, he shook his head. “You were a last-minute substitution. No way that wouldn’t be suspect. The police are going to think the same thing.”

“Did you think maybe me being there was a surprise to those guys, too?” Still, she knew he had a valid point. The investigating detectives were going to be all over her.

Callan growled a little but appeared to consider the possibility. “Maybe the girl you replaced was in on the kidnapping. She could have set you up.”

Eryn cursed to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was get Renee involved in this. “No.”

“Maybe she got cold feet and left you hung out to dry.”

“No, that’s not what happened. I stepped in for a friend. Someone I’ve known for years. She got sick and needed someone to take her place for this job. She couldn’t afford to miss out on the money.” As she said that, Eryn felt bad. With the way things had gone down, Renee was still going to come up short. But that would be okay. Between them they would work things out. Renee just liked to be independent.

“Why did that guy want to take you with him?”

Thinking of how the man had eyed her, the hunger in his dark eyes, Eryn suddenly felt insecure about her near-nudity. The devil costume didn’t cover much and the parking garage was cold. She shuddered. “I’d rather not think about it.”

After a moment, Callan nodded. He slipped off his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders. The coat was scuffed and dirty from the scramble across the parking garage pavement, but it was warm and hung nearly down to her knees. “Thanks.”

Sirens screamed to life and thundered into the parking garage.

“The police are coming.” Eryn relaxed a little. She felt bad that Daniel Steadman wasn’t safe, but she was glad she was.

Callan gripped her elbow and yanked her into motion again. She pulled back against him. He tightened his grip and pulled harder. He growled irritably. “C’mon.”

“C’mon where?”

“I don’t want to get caught up with the police.”

“Why?” For the first time Eryn wondered if Callan might be dangerous. Not just physically dangerous, because she was certain he was that, but dangerous in a criminal sense. Toby had said that Callan was a soldier, but people thought mercenaries were soldiers, too. Many of them had been. Too many private armies were springing up around the globe, and not all of those people were nice. Maybe Callan had something to hide.

“Because I’m going to get Daniel back.”

“The police can help.” Eryn dug in her heels, but Callan pulled her toward the emergency exit all the same.

“Working with the police on this kidnapping would be like swimming in quicksand. They take too long to form up, think too much before they act. Since this is a kidnapping and Daniel is from out of state, and they killed that guy in the garage, the FBI is going to get called in. Especially because of who his family is. That’ll slow Daniel’s rescue down even more. He’ll be dead if they get too involved.”

Eryn knew that was true. She’d never been directly involved in a kidnapping before, but her company had. Usually those crimes ended tragically.

“You’re one man.”

He looked at her but smiled grimly. “Yeah, but I can do this. I’ve done it before.”

Looking at him, staring into those hard, slate-gray eyes, Eryn believed him—but only for a moment. The bottom line was that Daniel Steadman had been taken by professionals. Callan had acknowledged that himself. But she knew he was going to try to get Daniel back.

She also knew that he wasn’t going to ask her for help. Once he got his hands on the images, he’d take up the hunt by himself. Getting around Las Vegas was hard. “When was the last time you were in Vegas?”

He smiled a little. “First time.”

And navigating the city if he hadn’t been here before was going to be next to impossible. The sirens closed in as Eryn stared at him and considered what he was proposing to do. “You can’t do this by yourself. Not in a city you don’t know.”

“My kid sister loves this guy. I’m not going to sit this one out while he gets flushed down the toilet because of bureaucracy.” Callan took a quick breath. “The men who took him knew who I was. Inside that room, they had a guy on me. They figured if there was any trouble coming, I was the guy going to give it.”

Thinking of the way Callan had rushed at the van despite the gunners, Eryn silently agreed. He was trouble.

“Those guys had an inside person.” Callan went on in a calm voice. “If it wasn’t you—”

“It wasn’t.” Eryn glared at him.

Callan ignored her response. “—then it’s someone else. If it’s someone else, then that person is going to be in the middle of the police and FBI investigation. They’re going to know every move the police and the FBI make. That’ll get Daniel killed. This is about money. They’re going to have to move quickly.”

“You don’t know this is about money.”

He flicked a narrow-eyed glance at her. “Daniel’s heir to a pharmaceutical empire. This is about money.”

“Whoever took him could have taken him for leverage.”

That caught his attention. “What do you mean?”

“Corporate buyout. Corporate merger. Research and development. A play for contracts. Revenge. You can’t narrow your focus like that.” Eryn couldn’t believe so many possibilities presented themselves to her so quickly.

Callan’s suspicion returned. “How do you know all this?”

“This is Vegas. People who come here are high rollers. Corporate executives who like to play hard but never stray far from the business field. You get to that level, it’s all about action. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the boardroom, on Wall Street or on the tables. They have to get their juice.”

“Doesn’t matter what this is about. I’m going to get Daniel back. Whoever sold him out is going to be in a position to look over the shoulders of the law enforcement people.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

Although she wanted to believe that someone inside the group of partygoers colluding with the kidnappers was simply conspiracy paranoia, Eryn knew it was likely true. She’d seen the man assigned to Callan. He’d gone straight to Callan and hadn’t hesitated to shove his pistol into the back of Callan’s neck.

“Getting Daniel back safely is going to take someone from outside law enforcement. Someone moving quickly.” Callan paused, then his voice turned cold. “And someone who won’t hold back when the time comes.”

“What do you mean?”

Before Callan could respond, if he was going to, the fire escape door exploded open and a group of hotel security guards pushed into the parking garage brandishing weapons. They fanned out immediately, one stopping by the body on the ground and took up positions as the first LVPD police car screeched to a stop in front of them. The red and blue lights whirled over the immediate scene, painting it in garish shadows.

Callan wrapped his jacket around Eryn’s shoulders and herded her toward the stairwell at the other end of the parking garage. “I need those pictures. After that, you’re out of this. I promise. You can do whatever you want. But I have to help Jenny. I promised.”

The forceful emotion in his words carried pain and concern. Eryn was surprised to hear it, but in the end that was what decided her. She nodded and went with him, skirting parked cars and staying in the darkness.



Callan took the lead up the stairwell and shielded the woman with his body. He pushed hard, and this time he realized she was in heels. Her ability to keep up surprised him. Three hotel security guards came down and stopped them on the stairs.

One of the security men pushed a hand against Callan’s broad chest. Callan barely managed to quell the reflex to break the man’s fingers and chop him in the throat. “Who are you?”

Before Callan could respond, the woman peered around his shoulder. “It’s crazy out there. Guys with guns. Looked like some kind of drive-by. I think they’re still out there. It’s a good thing you guys got here. You should be able to catch them.”

The cacophony of car alarms echoed into the stairwell as the door below opened again.

The security guard shifted his attention to the woman. “Did you see who they were?”

“No. We were just getting into our car when it started. I told George we were safer inside the hotel.”

“You’re probably right. I need your names.”

“Darbinson. Room twenty-two fourteen. George and Kelli. We’re still checked in. We were going out for dinner until all that happened.”

The security guard nodded. “You folks get to your room. Someone will probably be along to talk to you.”

“Okay, thanks. You guys be careful.” Eryn flashed them a smile.

Callan was surprised by how quickly the woman had defused the situation by shifting the security guards from interrogators to protectors and potential heroes. But the ease that she accomplished that also strengthened his ebbing suspicions. She was too quick, too ready with a lie. A normal person off the street didn’t lie like that.

But the security guards went on their way.

She looked up at him, obviously expecting some acknowledgement of her feat.

“Take off your shoes.”

An angry frown tightened her blue-green eyes. “What?”

“Your shoes. Take them off. It’s a wonder you haven’t broken your neck.”

“I don’t need to—”

Kneeling quickly, Callan grabbed one of her toned calves and lifted her foot from the ground. She stumbled and almost lost her balance. He was too aware of the warm flesh in his hand and his chest suddenly felt too tight. The contact was electric and he wanted to skate his fingers along her calf some more. Instead, he cupped her raised foot with his other hand and stripped the shoe. “Don’t—”

Shifting legs, trying to keep the feel of her from his mind, Callan pulled off the other shoe, leaving it on the ground by the other. He stood and faced her glare. “Things are going to happen fast now. If I have to run, I want you able to keep up with me.”

“I can keep up with you. I could have done it in heels, too.” Her jaw jutted angrily.

Seeing the competitive, daring gleam in her eyes almost made Callan laugh. Under other circumstances he would have. Instead, he gripped her by the arm and pulled her toward the next flight of stairs.

She squirmed in his grip, twisted her wrist toward his thumb the way most martial arts taught someone to counter a hold, and broke free. For a moment Callan thought she was going to try to run. To his surprise, she reached down and hooked her fingers through the straps of the heels.

She held them up to display. “Manolo Blahniks. You don’t leave Manolo Blahniks behind. Now let’s go.” She dashed past him, easily taking the steps three at a time.

She was fast. Callan realized that by the time he hit the top of the stairs. In the tight confines of the stairwell, she was pulling ahead of him because his size and weight worked against him. Muscle became a burden in the tight turns. In a straightaway run he felt he could have beaten her. Or at least kept up. He was also aware of her only inches in front of his face. The glimpses of red silk beneath his jacket threatened to drive him crazy.

Focus, Callan. He took in a deep breath and pushed it out, turning his thoughts to Daniel Steadman and Jenny. Callan knew he would have to talk to his sister and he was dreading that conversation.

He reached the fourth-floor landing three steps behind her. She waited for him at the door.

“Catch your breath. They probably have hotel security in the room now. We don’t want to attract any more attention than we have to.”

Callan wanted to argue with her and tell her that his breathing was just fine. Instead, he focused on her words. “That costume is going to draw a lot of attention.”

“This is Vegas. A lot happens in Vegas. You can look and dress any way you want to. Just don’t act suspicious.” She frowned at him. “Why did you want to come back here?”

“I’ve got to get my things from my room.”

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

“If I’m going to look for these guys, I’m going to need money. I also need to get out of these clothes, change my appearance. That’s all in my room. I’m at the end of the hall.”

She nodded and looked at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Me first. In case there’s trouble.” Callan stepped in front of her, opened the door, and passed into the hallway.



Pulse pounding, Eryn trailed a step behind and to Callan’s right. She took advantage of his size to hide from the other people filling the hallway. Even with the coat, the devil costume marked her immediately if anyone was looking for her. She didn’t want people remembering her or, worse, pointing her out to investigators and security staff.

The party had boiled out into the hallway. Dozens of half-drunken young men talked and gestured, replaying everything that had just happened. Their voices were loud and histrionic. Plainclothes hotel security, marked by the walkie-talkies they carried, moved among the group. The security staff took down names and secured the scene.

Callan cut through them. He was big and broad, but he moved like a tiger. She’d been hard-pressed to gain any distance on him in the stairwell. Given his size and intensity, she thought he’d stand out immediately. But no one noticed him for more than a second, all of them consumed with their stories and the danger that had just passed. As she watched, she realized that Callan never made more than fleeting eye contact, kept a smile on his face and never broke stride, moving quickly without giving the appearance of doing so.

He stopped at the doorway to the room where Eryn had dressed. He tried the door and found it locked. He frowned and turned to Eryn.

Stepping past him, Eryn knocked on the door. Before she finished, the phone in her hand buzzed for attention. Out of habit, she glanced at the screen.

The image of a beautiful woman filled the screen. She had a heart-shaped face, lavender eyes and a small mouth. Cinnamon tresses fell over her bare shoulders. She held a bright red rose in one hand that almost touched the cleft in her chin. The image was glamour shot, an expensive makeover judging from the cosmetics, color and smoky background. A name flashed underneath: Sierra.

Eryn figured Toby was the kind to collect the phone numbers of a lot of women with one name.

Callan peered at the screen. “That’s Toby’s sister.”

“Oh.” Eryn felt guilty for her earlier thought when she realized Toby’s sister was probably worried and calling to check on her brother. She accepted the call. The least she could do after purloining the phone was let Toby’s sister know he was okay. “Hello.”

“Who is this?” The feminine voice was edgy and demanding, used to wielding authority.

“Eryn.”

“I know three Erins. Which are you?”

“I’m one that you don’t know.”

“What are you doing with Toby’s phone?”

“I borrowed it.”

“I heard what happened at the party and I wanted to make certain Toby was all right.”

“He’s fine.” Eryn glanced back down the hall where Toby talked loudly to a security guard. “He’s kind of busy at the minute talking to the hotel security staff.”

“Have him call me. Soon.”

The hotel door opened and revealed one of the guests. His eyes widened as Callan planted a big hand against the door and forced it farther open.

“I’ll have Toby get in touch with you as soon as he’s free.” But Eryn was speaking into a dead connection. The woman had hung up. Turning her thoughts back to the moment, Eryn followed Callan into the room.




Chapter 4


“Hey.” The guy backpedaled into the room just ahead of Callan. “Callan Storm, right? Jenny’s brother?”

“Yeah.” Callan surveyed the room and crossed to the bed where Eryn’s things lay.

Eryn walked to the bed, opened her overnight bag, got her purse out and checked her cell. The images she’d sent from Toby’s phone had come through perfectly.

“Has hotel security been in here?” Callan focused on the guy in the room.

“No.” Guilt stained the man’s features.

“What are you doing here?”

Eryn smiled at that. Evidently suspicion was hardwired into Callan’s psyche, but the guy was tripping her radar as well.

The man looked guilty. “Had to get rid of something.” He shrugged nervously. “Wasn’t anything big, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Didn’t want to get busted by the cops.”

Eryn shook her head. Apparently not all of Daniel Steadman’s acquaintances were squeaky clean. That knowledge made her wonder about Daniel Steadman and Callan’s sister. She had to wonder just how wild they were and if an alternative lifestyle directly impacted what had happened tonight.

Silently, she chastised herself. She had no right to judge, and the guys had shot up the parking garage and killed an innocent bystander without flinching. Not all of her acquaintances were squeaky clean, either. And her past as an exotic dancer, no matter how short, wouldn’t have cut it with her hometown in Fallon even as close as it was to Las Vegas. Her father was a carpenter and her mother was a schoolteacher. She hadn’t hidden her job from them and it had caused some stress. But she was their only child and forgiveness always came.

No, the trouble Daniel Steadman was currently in had to be way past anything he’d expected.

She went through her clothing, thankful the outfit she came in was practical enough. Coffee-bean-colored boot-cut stretch pants she could move in, a chestnut-colored three-quarter sleeve draped surplice shirt and brown Rockport Addison short boots she’d intended to wear home after the job. The clothes would blend with the Strip night crowd and the boots were sturdy enough to hold up under duress.

Callan switched his gaze to her. “I need those pictures.”

“I’m going with you.” Eryn didn’t relish spending the evening getting grilled by police officers. With as many people as there were involved with the kidnapping, investigators would waste hours just processing the attendees. Callan was right about that.

And family was important. Even though Callan’s sister wasn’t in direct danger, Jenny Storm was going to be hurt if something happened to her fiancé. Eryn didn’t want that to happen for any of them. One of the main reasons she’d gotten involved in security work was to protect people. She still had nightmares about Megan’s death. Someone should have helped her, but no one had.

Besides, whatever information they got from the images of the van might play out in minutes. Furthermore, if she could get away clean, without anyone from CS Sec finding out about her moonlighting for Renee, Eryn preferred that. Toby had never gotten her real name, and Renee took jobs through a booking service that protected the names of the performers.

The investigators might not even try to find out who the woman in the cake had been—unless they jumped onto the same wrong assumption Callan had. Eryn took a deep breath and told herself that the kidnapping would be resolved by then. The police—the FBI—would stop looking. All she had to do was get out of the building and she’d be clear.

Callan scowled. “You’re not going with me.”

“Fine. You’re going with me.” Before he could stop her, Eryn stepped into the bathroom, locked the door and waited to see if Callan would tear the door off the hinges. She heard him pace outside for a moment, maybe growl a little, but he stayed on the other side of the door.

Eryn undressed and dressed quickly. She dropped the skimpy attire into her purse, washed the exotic makeup from her face, and expertly glossed her lips and worked magic with a concealer. She moussed her collar-length hair and let it fall straight and professional, getting rid of the body she’d worked hard to infuse it with earlier. When she checked her reflection in the mirror, she was happy to see that a much different person looked back at her. She felt certain she could fade into the background of the hotel and leave without incident.

But there was one other stop she needed to make if she intended to follow through on her impromptu investigation. Callan wouldn’t like it. She didn’t, either, because it would leave her more exposed than ever.



When she opened the door, Callan spun on her. His irritation and stern features froze for just a moment, then he looked surprised.

The other man in the room wasn’t so silent. “Wow. You look different.”

Eryn didn’t respond. She deleted the images she’d taken from the memory card, wiped the phone clean of her fingerprints and Callan’s with a tissue, then handed Toby’s cell to man. “Get this to Toby. Tell him his sister called and she’s worried.”

“Sierra? Sure.” The man nodded, still not taking his eyes from Eryn. “You know, you look even hotter now.”

Terrific. She checked her phone again, making sure she had the images she’d sent from Toby’s phone. Then she grabbed her travel bag and makeup kit from the bed.

Callan blocked the doorway. “Two things. You’re not going with me. And I need those pictures.”

She returned his glare with one of her own. “Two things. You try to get out of here without me and I blow the whistle to the hotel security.” She took a breath, testing her resolve and discovering—without surprise—that she still couldn’t shake it. “I also think you’re right about Daniel Steadman’s kidnapping being an inside job. Which means I’m going to try to help you.”

“I don’t need you tagging along.”

“If I let you walk away, that makes me responsible.”

“For what?”

“For anything stupid that you do.” She eyed him levelly. “That’s the deal, soldier. Take it or leave it.”

Callan growled in the back of his throat and the sound thrilled through Eryn in ways she’d never experienced. She put the reaction down to adrenaline, to nearly dying, at being happy to still be alive. And then she wondered why she was in such a hurry to continue hanging around Callan Storm when bad things were sure to happen. At the very least her private security license was on the line, and she’d worked hard to get it.

She held her gaze steady, not showing any of her inner turmoil. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Fine.” From Callan’s abrasive tone, the answer was anything but fine. He reached out for her travel bag. She pulled it away, but he caught it and took hold. “If you’re carrying both bags while I’m walking around empty-handed, that’s going to draw attention.”

Reluctantly, but knowing that what he said was true, Eryn let him have the bag. She wasn’t happy about any concession she made toward him.

“Let’s go.” He opened the door and they went into the hallway.



As he followed the woman down the stairwell, Callan cursed to himself. He couldn’t believe she’d insisted on coming along. She had no vested interest in anything that was taking place, despite her argument that she would somehow be held “responsible.”

His lack of cell phone experience was a drawback. He’d have to remedy that at his first opportunity, but it wasn’t likely to be tonight. She turned and headed down the hallway toward his room. He studied her as he matched her determined stride. So what was her angle? Everybody had one, and they tended to be selfish.

He gave himself a mental shake. Roll with it. For the moment you need her. She has intel that you need. Once you get it, you can flush her and drop her like a rock.

The past few years, his missions had been in Afghanistan and Africa, in back areas that were barely listed on the map. Cell phones would have drawn enemy attention at once. He’d made do with human intelligence after the parameters of the missions had been drawn, operating independently behind enemy lines with a handful of people that might or might not betray him. He was currently functioning out of his depth, in foreign terrain, and he knew it.

He used his keycard on the door to his room and went inside. Behind him, the woman reached for the light. He caught her hand and stopped her.

“Leave the light off.”

Through her hand, he felt her body go tense. It took him a moment to remember to release her. Touching her sent an electrical current through him that he would have sworn he’d never before experienced. He didn’t know what it was about the woman that affected him so much, but he disliked it. She infuriated him on so many levels. Yet when he touched her, he seemed to get brain-locked.

Stupid. Pay attention. You need to help Daniel.

Callan turned away from her, grateful that the room was dark so she couldn’t see his face, because he didn’t know what she might see there. “Security may check to see if I’m here. If they see a light, they’ll know I’m around.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound sure of herself. The darkness in the room was nearly complete except for the neon glow from the Strip filtering around the heavy drapes.

Reaching into his pocket, Callan took out the small Mini Maglite he usually carried. A professional soldier who habitually risked his life never went anywhere without light, a way of making fire and a knife. Antitank weaponry and an escape helicopter were much harder to pack. He had all of those basic things, though the Swiss Tinker blade he carried wouldn’t count much as armament facing automatic weapons.

He switched the light on and directed the white light against the ceiling. He dialed the wattage down to a glow that barely reflected against the overhead tiles and only just lifted their silhouettes from the darkness.

“Here.” He handed the light to the woman. “Give me a minute to get dressed.” Before she could respond, he turned and crossed to the small closet.

He flung the door open, took out a pair of khaki cargo pants, a burgundy pullover and a pair of GORE-TEX hiking boots he’d broken in. He left the rest of the clothes hanging. The room was rented for two more days—for the wedding tomorrow night and one more day. He wasn’t going to need anything else from there until he got Daniel back to Jenny.

He entered the bathroom and changed out of his clothing.



At first Eryn thought Callan had left the bathroom door ajar by mistake. Then, curious, she’d peered through the opening and realized she could see the mirror. And in the mirror, she saw his reflection as he stood behind the door and changed clothing. She also realized then that he’d left the door open on purpose. He’d given her the Mini Maglite for the same reason.

Just as she could see him, he could see her. He was watching her, making certain she didn’t leave. His slate-gray eyes looked at her intently. Her image was clearer due to the flashlight, but there was still enough illumination to see him.

That made Eryn angrier. She didn’t know where he thought she would go. And he’d practically been shoving her out the door. If she didn’t have the images he wanted, she wouldn’t be there now. She thought about extinguishing the light out of spite, just to see if she could get a reaction out of him.

But turning the flashlight off would have plunged the bathroom into darkness. He’d still know if she left when the door opened. She told herself that keeping the light on was just to keep the peace, but she knew she liked the way the soft glow played over his body.

She couldn’t see much of him, but it was enough to set her heart racing a little. The response bothered her, especially given everything that was currently going on.

Callan was lean, but his upper body packed muscle. The light played over his broad shoulders, deep chest and biceps as they bunched when he moved. There were scars, too, faded things that she couldn’t quite make out. His white boxer briefs stood out against the bronze skin. He was dark all over, like he lived out in the elements. The coloration wasn’t the result of a tanning booth. Wherever Callan was from, he was exposed a lot.

He pulled his pants on, covering his near nakedness, and Eryn had to take a breath. Her face felt hot, but she knew she wasn’t embarrassed. Then she realized she was, over her reaction, though, not because she’d seen him nearly stripped. She’d worked protection for female clients at Chippendales shows, had seen a lot more skin under definite provocative circumstances, and had never felt the same way.

She gritted her teeth and turned away from Callan Storm. She continued holding the flashlight. “I thought you were in a hurry.” Even though she stared at the wall in front of her, she felt his eyes on her and kept imagining that rock-hard body.

He didn’t reply. Just before she called out again, he plucked the Mini Maglite from her hand.

“Let’s go.” His warm breath ghosted against the back of her neck and raised goose bumps that tightened her scalp.

When she turned, he’d already moved on. He reached into the closet once more and took out a brown bomber jacket. By the time he reached the door, he’d already shrugged into it and picked up her travel bag.

He nodded to the bed. “Don’t forget your makeup case.”

Eryn took a step back to the bed and tried to act as if she hadn’t forgotten about the case. She had, though, and that irritated her. She was good at keeping up with things, with noticing details. Her job required an attention to detail.

She stepped through the open door and resisted the impulse to look down the hall at the investigation still going on. “Where are we going?”

“Out of the hotel.”

“Then what?”

“Then we see if your images help us find a direction. For the moment we need to evade the police dragnet. Take the elevator.”

For a moment Eryn started to ask why, then she realized that the police would still be watching the stairwells. Going that way would have been suspicious. She stepped into the elevator alcove.

Luck was with them and they caught one of the cages just as the doors opened. Two couples in evening wear and a boy in his teens playing a portable game system stood inside.

The button for the main floor was already pressed. Eryn watched the levels ping as they dropped.

One of the men spoke up. “Do you know what the fire alarm was about?”

Eryn glanced at the mirrored surface of the elevator door. Callan didn’t speak. She answered for them. “There’s a party on our floor.”

“That’s where the police and the fire departments seemed intent on gathering. I presume there’s nothing amiss.”

“There’s no fire.”

The elevator dinged again when they arrived at the second floor. The doors opened to a group of people standing in the alcove. One of the men in the group waved them off. “We’ll take the next one.”

On the first floor, the doors opened again. Eryn led the way out, surprised to see the crowd that filled the foyer. Evidently not only the guests staying the night had come down from the towers, but the casino had temporarily lost some of its patrons as well. The security people were out in force.

“Let’s go.” Callan took the lead and headed for the side entrance.

“Wait.” Eryn turned away from him and headed back toward the concierge.

The man was absent from his post, but she spied him talking to some of the guests, letting them know that the fire scare had been a false alarm. Nobody was talking much about the shootout in the parking garage. Apparently that news hadn’t spread yet.

Eryn stopped at the concierge desk and leafed through the pamphlets in the shelves. A map of the hotel and casino lay in the mix. She pulled it out and consulted it briefly as Callan caught up with her. He was scowling again.

“What are you doing?” He loomed at her side.

“Trying to appear inconspicuous. How’s that working for you?”

“We need to get out of here.”

“We also need more information if we’re going to try to find out who took your future brother-in-law.” Eryn located the main desk and headed for the hallway just to the left of it.

“Where are you going?”

“The security office.” She avoided Callan’s grip, sidestepping and putting a chair between them at the last minute.

Callan quick-stepped and caught up with her. His big hand wrapped around her forearm but he didn’t try to stop her. “Why?”

“Because they’ll have video footage of everything that happened. I’m going to try to get a copy of it.”

“You think you can do that?”

“I know I won’t get a copy if I don’t try.”

Callan’s grip fell away and he paced her through the crowded area. He didn’t ask her any more questions.

As they passed the check-in area, Eryn gazed at the television in the corner of the room. A small crowd had gathered there to watch the breaking news on the local channels. Video footage of the hotel filled the screen while the neatly groomed male anchor occupied a corner and talked calmly. Script ran across the bottom of the screen.

Fire alarm caused near panic at th—

When Callan caught her arm and tugged, Eryn whipped her head around and just managed to avoid colliding with a heavyset man carrying a poodle. She excused herself but hurried past him into the next hallway. She turned left at the intersection and stopped in front of a metal door—Security/Authorized Personnel Only.

Eryn rang the buzzer and looked up at the fish-eye camera lens mounted above the door.

“Can I help you?” The voice was male, well modulated and slightly anxious.

Eryn took her agency ID from her purse and held it up to the camera. “Can you see this?”

The camera lens flickered. “Sure.”

“I need a favor. Professional courtesy.”

“We’re on lockdown.”

“I know. That’s why I need the favor. My partner and I were watching over a principle. We lost him in the excitement.”

“Not my problem, Ms. McAdams.”

“The principle is a high roller. Help me out and I can get you comped at the casino I’m working for. I can get your supervisor comped, too.”

For a moment there was no response. “This guy that big?”

“Big.” Eryn lied effortlessly. In Vegas everything spun around the casinos and the big money they pulled in. Whales—high rollers that spent a lot at the tables and in the hotels—were an important part of that business. The money trickled through the city, spun through the Strip’s veins like a junkie’s favorite hit. The story was easily believable. It had happened before.

“I’m not supposed to let anyone in.”

“Guy has a jones. If I let him get away without returning him to the hotel, I’m going to lose my job.”

Callan stood at her side without saying a word. For a moment Eryn thought she was just going to end up embarrassing herself. She’d been with other security agents who’d used the same bribes to get information on people they were supposed to be keeping up with. Just as she was getting ready to give up, the speaker crackled again.

“Get in, find your guy, then get back out.”

“Definitely.”

The electronic locking mechanism cycled, thumping and clicking as it opened. Finally, it buzzed. “Come ahead.”

Eryn pushed the door in and followed it.




Chapter 5


Feeling uneasy, Callan stepped into the security command on the woman’s heels. He’d filed away her name, McAdams, and the fact that she obviously worked somewhere that would give her access to security agencies.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/meredith-fletcher/best-man-for-the-job/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.