woman blushed as Jake turned and walked away. It was his size mostly, he figured, that made women take a second look. He was used to it by now.
He swung open the walnut door and stepped inside, finding only two people in the room—the woman he had subtly insulted and a silver-haired gentleman in his late seventies, slightly stooped but still impressive, undoubtedly Ian Dumont.
“Mr. Cantrell, I assume,” the man said. “Our mutual friend, Trace Rawlins, had nothing but good things to say when he recommended you for this job.” Trace knew Ian well. He’d recently helped design the state-of-the-art alarm system for Marine Drilling when the building was renovated. “Please join us.”
The Dumont woman was staring, one of her dark eyebrows slightly elevated in question. He noticed she was wearing a flashy diamond engagement ring. Since he felt a jolt of heat whenever he looked at her, it was probably good she was out of his reach.
Ian Dumont walked the length of the long conference table to greet him, reaching out to shake his hand—a strong, solid handshake that set the tone for the discussion ahead. He’d once had calluses on those hands, Jake figured.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” the CEO suggested.
They grouped themselves at one end of the table, which was done in the same walnut and chrome as the waiting area. Wide plate-glass windows looked down on the city streets, and modern artwork in bold bright colors lined the inner walls.
The door swung open and Marie walked in with a silver coffee service. She set the tray down on the table and poured each of them a cup.
“Thank you, Marie,” Ian said as she quietly headed back out the door. He fixed his attention on Jake. “I asked you here today to discuss providing security for one of our people during an upcoming business negotiation.”
“Right. An S. E. Dumont, you said, when we spoke on the phone.”
“That is correct.”
“Wait a minute,” the woman interrupted, her gaze sliding toward Jake. “Ian, you aren’t thinking—”
“Mr. Cantrell, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Sage Elizabeth Dumont.”
The room fell silent. Son of a bitch. She was his assignment?
“I don’t need a bodyguard, Ian.”
The older man turned toward her, a determined glint in eyes that looked strikingly similar to the flashing, gold-ringed brown ones belonging to his granddaughter.
“This man has experience in Middle Eastern protocol as well as a background in personal security. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Cantrell?”
“This is a business transaction,” Sage argued. “I’m not in any sort of danger.”
Both men ignored her. “Over the years, I’ve done a lot of corporate protection work, both in South America and the Middle East,” Jake said. “I worked in Saudi Arabia for three years after I got out of the marines. So yes, I’m familiar with the protocols.”
“I understand you were in Special Forces. You served in Iraq, I believe?”
“That’s right.” Ian Dumont had done his homework.
“Sage is vice president of acquisitions and distribution for Marine Drilling. Currently she is involved in a transaction that may reach the three-hundred-million-dollar mark, a deal being negotiated with Sheik Khalid Al Kahzaz of Saudi Arabia. The sheik and his family are due to arrive in just a few days.”
“I see,” Jake said noncommittally. Protecting a corporate executive was one thing. Protecting a young socialite who got her job because she was a member of the Dumont family was something altogether different.
“With your experience,” Ian continued, as Jake took a sip of his coffee, “I’m hoping you will be able to guide my granddaughter through this visit with our Saudi friends, and should any trouble arise, also keep her safe.”
“That’s what I get paid for.”
Sage shifted in her chair, irritation clear in her face. “We need to discuss this in private, Ian.”
The old man smiled indulgently. “We can do that, of course, but the result will be the same. You’re representing Marine Drilling International. You will be prominently engaged in entertaining the sheik, his daughter and son, and the remainder of his party. The unrest in their part of the world has reached all the way to our city. A man was killed in a Middle Eastern prodemocracy demonstration last night.”
“That was an accident,” Sage protested. “He was hit by a car.”
“The police are still investigating. They’re not completely certain what actually happened. And even if it was an accident, tempers are running hot on all fronts. Your safety is vitally important to me. Mr. Cantrell will make certain you are safe.”
“But—”
“It will only be during the day, for as long as the sheik is here, or when you are somewhere entertaining him and his family. Along with that, there are things you need to know that Mr. Cantrell can teach you.”
Her shoulders tightened. “I understand there are business protocols, things I need to be aware of. I planned to research the subject. I’ve just been so busy… .”
“You work too hard, my dear. You need someone to help you. Mr. Cantrell can handle that.” Her grandfather rose from his chair and turned to Jake when he stood up, too. “When can you start?”
Part of him wanted to refuse the assignment. Jake didn’t want to deal with a bossy, cantankerous female. The other part was looking for something interesting to do after weeks of mostly sitting behind a desk. And keeping a pampered young woman like Sage Dumont out of trouble probably wouldn’t be dull.
“If we have only a short time before they arrive,” he found himself saying, “we had better get started today.”
“Splendid!” Ian said.
Sage’s spine went a little straighter. She fixed her gaze on Jake. Even in her high heels she had to look up at him, which he could tell she didn’t like.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll see you in my office in half an hour. Does that work for you?”
“I’ll be there.”
And then she was gone.
As soon as the door swooshed shut behind her, Jake heard Ian chuckle. “I knew she was going to pitch a fit about this—actually, I expected far worse. But I want her safe. She means everything to me, Mr. Cantrell.”
“It’s just Jake. And you can count on me to take care of her—whether she likes it or not.”
* * *
Sage marched into her office and slammed the door. A bodyguard. It was ridiculous. She couldn’t believe her grandfather would go to such extremes. The sheik and his family would be bringing their own security people. And the police had been officially notified of the visit. There was nothing for her grandfather to worry about.
Still, she knew how much he loved her. And Sage loved him.
She sighed as she walked to her desk. Ian Dumont had raised her since she was twelve years old. She respected him more than any other man she’d ever known.
She thought of the towering hulk who had asked her to bring him some coffee. Typical chauvinist. Marine Special Forces. Served in Iraq. The guy was all male, no doubt of that. She hadn’t missed the hot gleam in his eyes when she’d caught him watching her bent over at the reception desk.
She refused to acknowledge the jolt of awareness that had slipped through her when she first saw him standing there. For heaven sake, who wouldn’t notice a man who looked like that? The Terminator—only bigger and better looking. Dark brown, neatly trimmed hair, and those eyes. Light blue and beautiful.
Still,