Live Wire (Ramsey Security #2)

"His family continues to claim he wasn't involved in a cult. In fact, they claim he was an addict you killed in a drug related dispute. How do you respond to these accusations?"

Her words make me want to puke. Feeling cornered, I nearly lash out. What can I say though? If I deny the allegations, she'll twist my words. If I say nothing, she'll twist my silence. If I call her a bitch and storm out, she'll look like the victim.

Marx sits dumbfounded next to me. How did we not expect a little gotcha journalism from at least one of these reporters? I see Mom itching to speak up, but she restrains herself. To my surprise, Saskia walks past my mother and into frame.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms. Pinard," Saskia says, startling the reporter and cameraman. "I'm curious if your family's history with drug addiction has biased your questions."

"Excuse me?" Jackie demands. "Who the hell are you?"

The room pulses with tension, and everyone seems a little startled by the change in tempo. The reporter's face is beet red now, and I have the urge to laugh. Saskia's words erase my anger. She's a damn goddess.

"Several members in your immediate family suffer from addictions," Saskia continues, "and led to them being forcibly treated as part of their criminal sentencing. I can't help wondering if your defense of Dennis Stein is related to your family's problems."

“'How do you know this shit?" Jackie yells, jumping to her feet.

Once again, I watch someone larger challenge Saskia and smile at how she doesn't even flinch. The reporter looms over the redhead.

"I did security checks on all of the reporters speaking with Mister Sloane today. Your family's history gave me pause. Your brother has been in rehab twice, leaving me to suspect you're overly sympathetic to the idea of Dennis Stein as the victim addict."

"You investigated me?"

"It's called Google," Saskia says in a deadpan voice. "Everything I found is easily discoverable by anyone with an internet connection."

"And you think this protects your client from answering real questions about the murder of Dennis Stein?"

"I think you will either deal with your bias before the interview airs or we will respond to your flawed interview afterwards by pointing out your biases."

"Are you threatening me?"

Saskia says nothing. Her cold eyes do all the talking.

"This interview is over," Jackie growls, storming past the cameraman.

Saskia casually glances at the publicist. "Was that the last interview?"

"One more."

"Yes. The man with the three divorces. You can call him in."

The final interview is predictable with questions we've answered already. Thinking of Saskia challenging the reporter, I can't stop smiling. The woman is fierce, and I need her to focus on me again like she did the night we spent together.

As soon as the interview ends, I corner Saskia in a mini-kitchen attached to the meeting room. Blocking her exit, I ask, "Are you done needing your space?"

"I'm still working."

Studying her face, I know Saskia is scared. I just don't know why.

"Tonight, you're not working. We'll have dinner, and I'll reward you for a job well done."

Saskia glares at me, but I don't care. Finally giving my fingers what they desire, I let them caress her soft cheek. A flicker of warmth passes over her face before she pushes my hand away.

"No."

"You can pick the food, but only if you agree now. If I have to ask again, I choose."

Saskia tries to slide past me, but I hold my arm out and block her again.

"I'm not negotiating," she mutters.

"Then I guess I'm picking dinner."

"Did you hire me to sleep with you or to keep you safe?"

Not missing a beat, I point out, "I didn't hire you. Mom did."

"So you don't care?"

"I want to go on a date. I haven't been on one in years. When was your last date?"

"A week before I took this job."

Leaning down, I nuzzle her hair. "You're lying."

Saskia tips her head back and brushes my lips with hers. "I want to choose the restaurant."

"After you mind fucked that reporter bitch, you can have whatever you want."

I'm only granted a small kiss before she makes her escape under my arm and hurries away. Saskia offers me a quick smile over her shoulder. I share the smile and adjust my stance to hide the erection throbbing in my pants. Fierce is a good look on her, and I can't get enough.





18


Brad

Playing Games

Hours later, Saskia appears in the hallway, wearing a gold and black checkered skirt, black tights, and a gold sweater. A picture of sophisticated beauty, she smiles at me casually. I suspect she knows my heart is racing.

"You look gorgeous," I murmur, stepping closer until I'm leaning over her as my fingers graze her cheek.

Our gazes lock for a long time. My fingers linger on her cheek, unwilling to give up the warm skin.

"Stop thinking of me naked," she whispers, frowning up at me.

Giving her a lazy smile, I imagine her perky tits cupped in my hands. "I wasn't, but now I am. Blame yourself for that."

Saskia ducks under my arm and begins walking. "We should go to dinner. The car is waiting."