Taking Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #3)

The two men had sized each other up, then shook hands, one of those testosterone-fueled handshakes that always looked like they’d result in broken fingers. But she got the feeling that Jake respected Declan, and it took a lot to impress her boss.

Dave and Steve were also present. The guys were all seated, but Jess was too restless and she paced the room, listening while Jake outlined a plan for drawing out Declan’s attackers. For the first time, it occurred to her that there was actually danger involved. That there was a small chance they would get to Declan, maybe hurt him, even kill him. These guys were serious. Something unexpected and almost unidentifiable twisted inside her.

She was afraid. Not the adrenaline-inducing fear of the bungee jump, but something much darker. Plonking herself down on the edge of the sofa, she tried to get a grip on her fear.

“You okay, Jess?” Jake asked.

She rubbed the spot above the bridge of her nose as she thought about her answer. She suspected the correct response was “no.” She was pretty sure she was not okay. Instead, she tried to give a casual shrug. “Just having second thoughts. I’m not sure we should be playing around with these guys.”

“And have you an alternate suggestion?” Jake asked.

“Up the security. Keep him safe until after the court case.”

Jake turned to Declan. “How do you feel about all this? Are you okay to go ahead?”

Something flashed across his face and then was gone. He shrugged. “Whatever you think best.”

Did he want this over with? Including her? A week ago, she would have said yes. Now she wasn’t so sure. “We go ahead then.”

Declan rose to his feet. “Will you walk me out?” he said to her.

She followed him out of the room, eyes glued to his very impressive ass. At the elevator she pressed the button for the ground floor and gestured for him to enter.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said as the doors closed behind them.

She shrugged again. “It won’t do the firm’s reputation any good if we lose a client. Especially now, when Jake’s stepping down. So I’d prefer it if you didn’t get yourself killed.”

He leaned back against the wall of the elevator. “Maybe I should get a gun.”

“I don’t think so.” She shuddered. Clients with guns were not on top of her things-I-want list. “Can you shoot?”

“Never tried. Never even held a gun.”

“Never? Really?” She considered him for a moment. “You want to?” Was she just looking for an excuse to keep him here? Probably. But what the hell. “Or have you got an important meeting to go to? You look like you have an important meeting.” He was dressed in a sharp charcoal-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and dark red tie and looked the perfect executive. Except for maybe the restlessness in his silver-gray eyes. It occurred to her that maybe he wasn’t happy with his perfect life.

When they’d been teenagers, she’d always known that under the controlled exterior had lurked a wild boy. It was what had drawn her to him. What had pushed her to get a reaction from him. She’d believed when they met again, that the wild boy was entirely eradicated beneath the perfect veneer of sophistication. But he wasn’t gone entirely. He might show a perfect front to the world, but beneath the glossy facade there was a volcano waiting to explode. There always had been. Her question was did Declan have more or less control now than he’d had ten years ago?

But why should she care.

He studied her for a moment. Then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Paul? Cancel my meetings this morning. Something’s come up.” He closed the call before the other man could speak and turned back to her.

Heat coiled in her belly, and her heart rate picked up. Leaning across him, she pressed the button for the basement.

It was quiet down on the lower level. There were a lot of cases at the moment and most of the operatives were out on assignment. At the far end of the corridor, she punched in the code for the shooting range, then pressed her thumb to the pad. The door clicked open. Jake had contacts that facilitated them getting the licenses for their firearms, but there were strict rules for their storage.

The room was big, but narrow, and the longer side ran along the whole depth of the building. It consisted of a counter that spanned this end of the room, and then the room was split into three alleys. She paused just inside the door, glanced at him, then turned back and locked it behind them. Declan’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything as she led him to the gun safe at the far corner of the room, and again input the code and pressed her thumb to the pad. Declan shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the counter and rolled up his sleeves.

She selected a Sig Pro 9mm—one of her favorites—and a magazine. She turned and handed it to Declan, minus the bullets.

“It’s not very big,” he murmured. The weapon did look small in his large hand.