Maggie Black K.

Protective Measures


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It’s Commander Darius. What do I tell him?”

      He glanced over his shoulder. The curtains had closed behind him. Who was this woman? He seriously doubted she was his informant. Yet the idea that she wasn’t was even more worrying. If he didn’t return to the event, and get back to mingling, he might miss his opportunity to get the drug-smuggling intel. But if the only other option was letting a strange, armed woman skulk around leaping off of balconies, that wasn’t any better. Guide me, Lord.

      “Clearly you know who I am,” he said. He stepped toward her. “Which means you know I’m not about to let you hop off over the balcony. So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get down off that railing and tell me exactly who you are, who you’re talking to and what you’re doing here.”

      A gunshot cracked somewhere in the darkness below. Zoe’s head spun toward the sound. A cry escaped her lips, as her feet slipped off the crumbling edge of the balcony.

      * * *

      Zoe’s hands flailed, grasping at the empty air as she felt her footing give way beneath her. Her body pitched backward. A prayer filled her heart. Then a strong arm slid around her waist, yanking her back onto the balcony. Leo had leaped for her. She clutched at his arm, even as she felt the weight of gravity threatening to pull her from his grasp. A second strong arm went under her knees, as Leo lifted her into his arms and pulled her back against the castle wall, like some kind of knight carrying a damsel to safety. What had just happened? She was a bodyguard, a mixed martial arts specialist and had once been an internationally ranked gymnast. She didn’t need some dashing man in uniform to protect her and rescue her from falling. She never had. Yet, here she was in the commander’s arms, pressed so tightly against his chest she almost couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began. “Put me down.”

      His arms held firm. “Not until you tell me who you are, what you’re doing here and why somebody just shot at you.”

      “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the target,” she said. “Sounded like the shot came from somewhere on the grounds below us.”

      They’d better not have shot at her. Ash Private Security thrived on its secrecy. In the dozens of undercover operations she’d been involved with as a private bodyguard, since helping found the company with her stepbrother, Alex, and their friend Josh, her cover had never once been blown.

      “Good news, sis.” Alex’s voice crackled in her ear. “No imminent danger. No casualties. No reaction from within the party, either. Nothing to worry about. Just looks like the guy we were tracking shot out one of the security cameras in the castle gardens. My best guess is he’s heading around the building to one of the side doors, but I can’t tell which one. Two security guards are looking for him now, but once he slips inside he could blend in and be anybody. If the commander’s still holding you up, I suggest you tell him whatever it takes to get him to let you go.”

      She looked at Leo. “There’s a prowler on the castle grounds, he shot out a surveillance camera in the gardens and security are looking for him now. Check with security and I’m sure they’ll say the same.”

      “That doesn’t answer my question,” he said.

      “I told you, my name is Zoe Dean. My brother, Alex, is engaged to Theresa Vaughan. I spotted a prowler. I can stop him and turn him over to security, but not until you let me go.”

      Leo brushed her hair away from her face, his finger tracing along the edges of her tiny earpiece. Then his fingers slid over her wrist, holding her hand gently while keeping the microphone in her bracelet away from her lips. His other hand tapped the leg holster strapped to her calf. A shiver ran up the back of her knee. He still hadn’t set her down.

      “Let me make this very simple,” Leo said. “I don’t believe you. I’ve met Alex Dean, and he looks nothing like you. You’ve got a microphone in your bracelet, you’re wearing an earpiece, and unless I’m very much mistaken I can feel a pretty solid leg holster on your calf. Knife, though, not gun, so at least that’s one law you’re not breaking. So either you come up with a much more convincing story than that or I’ll have you arrested.”

      “Is that a challenge?” she asked.

      He grinned, but only slightly like he couldn’t help himself.

      “Then let me make one thing clear,” she said. “The only reason I didn’t go for a quick, sharp jab to your windpipe and leave you here gasping for breath, is because you’re very respected by a couple of people who I’d give my life for and I promised them I wouldn’t cause a disturbance.”

      “Really?” His dark eyebrows rose.

      “Yes, really,” she said. It seemed like he was determined to doubt her. “Do you want me to prove it to you? When you were serving in the Middle East, you transported a soldier on one of your missions called Joshua Rhodes. Josh tipped you off about a drug smuggler in your crew and you had the smuggler dishonorably discharged.” Leo’s face paled. The skeptical grin faded. Yeah, she imagined he could count on one hand the number of people who knew that story. But she wasn’t done. “When you returned to Canada, a year ago, Josh gave you a call and told you that his good friend Alex had gotten engaged to an amazing psychotherapist named Theresa, who specialized in child trauma. He said that she lived near Toronto but was willing to drive out to Ottawa to see your daughters, if you thought it would help them. Josh is my colleague. Alex is my colleague and my stepbrother—we both lost a parent when we were young. Josh, Alex and I are bodyguards for a very private and elite firm called Ash Private Security.”

      Leo’s grip loosened. She slipped from his arms and landed on her feet on the balcony.

      “Talk about pulling out the big guns,” Leo said. “You could’ve just told me you worked with Josh.”

      He was rattled. She couldn’t blame him. She’d been warned that Leo was a very private man, and here she’d just rattled off two rather personal things about him that she guessed not many people knew.

      “I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me, and I didn’t want to hang around here trying to convince you.” An unexpected flush rose to her cheeks. He would hardly be the first person to underestimate her or presume someone her size couldn’t protect lives. But was he always this suspicious? He was easily one of the most skeptical people she’d ever met. “When you’re my size you learn to make your first shot a big one, as it might be the only one you get.”

      His eyebrow rose. “Like taking on a prowler and leaping off a balcony.”

      “I was a nationally ranked gymnast growing up and I competed internationally in mixed martial arts until I was fifteen,” she said. “And yes, I work with Josh and Alex—as a bodyguard. Theresa consults for Ash, too, on occasion, and Josh’s wife, Samantha, sometimes helps with online research. In fact, I’m the only member of the team who didn’t get an invite to this shindig. But since Josh and Samantha are on their honeymoon, Theresa’s back home in Toronto seeing clients and Alex is outside manning the surveillance van, I got to be the person on the inside. I trust you won’t blow my cover.”

      She might no longer be in his arms, but she was still standing so close to him she could almost feel him against her chest. She held her breath still half expecting him to tell her that she didn’t look like a bodyguard.

      Instead Leo asked, “Who’s your client?”

      “I’m here on surveillance only.” She took a step back. “A couple of our clients have been targeted by a particularly nasty gang of thieves. Samantha picked up some online chatter that three of them would be here tonight scoping out a new target. So, I’m here to hunt the potential thieves while they stalk their next target.” She took another step backward.

      Leo’s arms crossed in front of his chest. “You knew thieves were targeting an international gala and you didn’t alert the police or security?”

      “Of course we did,” she said. “But this particular group of thieves don’t pick pockets and grab handbags. They think of themselves as vigilantes,