Taking Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #3)

Grunt nudged at his knee from under the table, and he reached down and stroked the dog’s silky head. Grunt had saved his life—he’d been just getting back from walking the dog when the letter bomb had gone off. The concierge had delivered it the previous evening and it had sat innocently on the sideboard in his apartment hallway overnight. Grunt must have sensed something amiss—as the elevator doors opened, he’d whined, pulled back, then all hell broke loose.

The police were examining the bomb now. Apparently, something had gone wrong and triggered it early. So someone incompetent was trying to kill him. That was maybe even worse.

He’d been trying to work, but couldn’t settle and in the end he gave up. It was nearly time for the meeting with the security company, anyway. Jess. Heat coiled in his belly at the thought of her.

He’d gotten lucky today, but how long would that last? He hated to admit it, but his father was right; he needed some protection. He’d given in and told him to arrange a meeting. But he was sure of one thing: any protection he accepted would not include Jessica.

And it wasn’t because he didn’t believe she could do it. He’d gotten the background report on her and it was seriously impressive. She was UK champion in unarmed combat, whatever that involved. She’d competed in the Olympics for shooting and won a medal. No, he was sure she was competent and while she said she hated him, he was also sure that she wouldn’t let that influence her doing her job.

That was all irrelevant, because no way was she putting herself in danger to protect him. Just the thought of Jess stepping in front of a bullet meant for him made him reach for the scotch.

Never going to happen.

He’d have to find another way to get her to come to him. Because he wasn’t letting her disappear from his life. Not yet.

He’d woken that morning with a sense of anticipation he hadn’t experienced in years. He felt vital, alive, and randy as hell. Yesterday had only whetted his appetite for more.

Obviously all those years ago, he’d walked away from her before their somewhat explosive relationship had run its course. They’d been so volatile, always arguing, fighting, making love. It had been the best sex ever, before or after, but he’d pushed that to the back of his mind. It had only taken one meeting to make him realize that he’d never forgotten her.

She was unfinished business. And he meant to finish it. And enjoy the process. And she would, too. Though he’d have to wait until his little problem was fixed, no way was she being anywhere near him while some asshole was trying to blow him up. Afterward, when it was over, he would find a way to reel her in. Once in his presence he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to resist. The reeling in was going to be the hard part.

He relaxed back in his chair and sipped his scotch, a smile tugging at his lips just as the door opened and his father stepped into the room, Paul behind him.

“Why the hell are you looking so cheerful?” his dad said, throwing himself onto the leather sofa. “Didn’t someone just try to blow you up? And why are you drinking at eleven in the morning. You never drink in the office.”

He raised his glass. “Just celebrating being alive.”

“Hmm.” His father didn’t look convinced. “Well, I came to tell you that the problem is sorted.”

“It is?”

“I told you I could sort it out. You should have let me do that from the start, and then you wouldn’t have gotten in this mess.”

“You were the one who wanted the company respectable,” Declan pointed out. “That means leave the criminals to the police. So who was it?”

“You don’t need to know, but I pulled in a few favors and they won’t be bothering you again.”

“And they admitted it?”

“Well, the shooting they did, though they wouldn’t own up to the bombing—probably some overambitious underling wanting to impress his boss and taking things into his own hands. But the bottom line is they’re not coming after you. We can cancel your babysitters.”

Declan sat back and considered the information. Yeah, it would be good to get back to normal. Or would it? “Normal” hadn’t been that great; in fact it had been bloody boring. The last couple of days, he’d actually felt alive. There was something wrong with his reasoning, but he still couldn’t deny it.

“You don’t look too pleased,” his dad said.

He gave himself a mental shake. “No, I am.”

“Good. Well, I’ll call up and cancel the meeting with the security company.”

Which meant no Jess for lunch. He couldn’t believe the stab of disappointment right to his gut at the thought.

It occurred to him that now there was no danger, there was no reason to keep her at a safe distance. Problem with that logic was, that with no danger there was also no reason for her to come anywhere near him.

“Don’t cancel the meeting.”

“What?” His father had been on the point of rising. Now he sank back down.