Blindsided (Sentinel Securities) (13 page)

Earlier back in the lounge room she'd picked up photos in frames he had on the shelves and caught a slight insight into Jason Nash's world. There were no family type photos, as such, just pictures of the men from downstairs and Jason in various places around the world. Mostly they were photos taken while they'd been in the army, judging from their attire and the various equipment in the pictures. But there were other pictures, where the men were dressed casually, laying about on beaches and riding elephants in Bali.

The spare room, she assumed would be okay for her to use, was at the end of the hallway and had its very own ensuite. The bed had been turned back and a towel had been placed on the end.

Digging through her bag, Brie retrieved a set of clothes and locked the bathroom door behind her. After all that had happened in such a relatively short space of time today, she was in desperate need of a long hot shower. Maybe she could wash away some of this grime and dirt that she felt weighing her down since discovering Declan’s sordid part in all this. That familiar old resentment crept back into her mind once more. How could she have been so stupid as to get mixed up with the man in the first place? More than once over the last four years she'd asked herself the same question, however, within moments, her self
-
pity and censure, gave way to a wave of relief. Had she not gotten involved with him, she'd have not had Lucy, and that was something she would
never
regret.

Hanging up her towel, after she’d changed into clean clothing, she went back into the bedroom and sank down onto the bed. A tired sigh escaped and she shut her eyes, blocking out everything in an attempt to ease her heavy heart. She trusted Gladys as you'd trust your mother with your child, but that small part of her, the protective, mother tiger part, ached and fretted for her baby.

As tired as she was, the images that kept playing through her mind were just too tormenting, and with a frustrated sigh, she got off the bed and decided to give up on sleep for a while.

****

The men sat around the computer, staring at the screen silently.

“You know what this means don’t you?” Nick said eventually breaking the silence.

“Yeah. We’re working for the bad guys,” Casper snapped.

“We don’t know that for a fact.”

“Mac, come on. It’s right there in black and white. It’s a formula alright—for drugs. Your fancy Gold Coast businessman wants to be a drug manufacturer.”

“Look. He paid us to get back something he supposedly paid for. It’s none of our business what that thing was. We got it back—we get paid—end of story.”

“We don’t work for the bad guys, remember?” Gracie added quietly.

“We work for whoever pays us the price we ask for.”

“When did you suddenly decide it was okay to work for a drug dealer?” Nick demanded.

“We didn’t know he
was
drug dealer—we still don’t know he is…for all we know he could be working for the cops and getting this back—
it’s none of our business.
We’ve done the job—now we hand it over and collect the rest of our money. End of story.” Mac snapped.

“No. Not end of story. If we do this, Mac—we’ve just pissed over everything we originally agreed to stand for.” Jason said.

“I don’t hear anyone complaining when you get your cushy pay check at the end of a job. You think you could afford that bike if you were still sloggin’ your guts out for the government? And what about the rest of you? Think you could give up this place to live back in the shitty places we used to bunk down in? This lifestyle comes with a price. We do specialised work…the people who can afford us are not all going to be wholesome Mr and Mrs Jones…and you know what—it’s none of our business who they are. We’re just here to do a job. We keep our mouth shut and do it.”

“You know that sounds exactly like the regiment. Isn’t that
why
we decided to get out?
Bec
ause we had enough of doing other people
’s
dirty work that they tried to deny by givin’ it a fancy name...like liberating…or some other politically correct bullshit term?” Gracie said.

“I don’t think we should hand this over,” Nick said.

“So what do you suggest we do with it then?” Mac asked.

“Destroy it.”

“We have a reputation to uphold. We can’t renege on a deal this far into it.”

“We can if they left out the fact they were going into drug manufacturing as a new side business,” Gracie muttered.

“You think our professional image won’t be tarnished once word gets out that our clientele are drug dealers?” Nick demanded.

“Mac, the guys have a point. If we go ahead and do this—it’s opening up a whole new can of worms…are we really willing to cross the line like this? And if so, where does it stop? Will the next client want us to help transport women and kids for the sex trade industry? People smuggling? Where does it stop?”

“Look, we got played by this client, okay? I take the rap for that
‘
cause I didn’t ask enough questions. But I still say we need to honour our end of the bargain here…we always finish a job.”

“And I say we destroy that thing and wash our hands of the whole mess,” Casper said.

“Let’s sleep on it. We’ll reconvene at oh
-
six hundred
hours
.”

Mac walked away and the four remaining men stared at one another silently. This wasn’t the first time they’d disagreed on something—but it was the first time it had been on such an important issue. Everyone knew this was deal changer and whatever the outcome, it would impact on how they did business in the future…
if they did business in the future.

****

When Jason walked back into his apartment, he found Brie curled up on the lounge, hugging the rag-tag lookin’ toy dog and the image put a hitch in his breath. She was the kind of woman he had no business wanting. She was everything his life was not…safe, stable, and well, other than her past coming back to haunt her now,
normal
.

He’d really fought these feelings he was beginning to have for her…he had, but for some reason he couldn’t quite convince himself to keep fighting. It wasn’t unheard of to fall for someone you were working for, especially in close protection situations—protecting their life. It happened, but you had to be professional and
everyone
knew you just took a step back and when the job was completed you just went on with your life…but this felt different. Brie dragged out feelings in him he’d long ago thought had abandoned him. She made him long for something he wasn’t even sure what, but…
something. 

You better get yourself sorted out, buddy,
a little voice warned him.
This woman’s life changing—are you ready for that?

He covered her up with a throw rug on the back of the lounge and headed off to bed without answering.

“Lucy!”

Briella sat up, her heart thumping in her chest. For a moment she was confused, until both the dream she’d just had and her memory hit her full force.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention to the hallway and with the moonlight streaming through the wall of glass behind her; she could clearly make out Jason’s worried frown. His gaze searched the room around them as he approached.

“I need to call Gladys,” she said, searching the lounge for her handbag urgently.

“It’s three am in the morning. You had a dream—that’s all. Lucy’s safe.”

It took a minute to calm down and for the grip of panic to let go.

“You okay?” he asked and she noticed that his voice was deep and low, still husky from sleep—something she shouldn’t have even noticed, but somehow did.

He was bare-chested, dressed only in comfy looking sweatpants which rode low on his hips and for a moment her gaze was caught on the trail of light hair that meandered across his abdomen to disappear down below the waistband. 

“Do you need something?”

Her gaze immediately snapped to his face as a leap of something suspiciously resembling excitement shot through her body at his words.
Yes!
shouted a voice inside her head, before she mentally clapped a hand over its mouth to silence it.  She must have been staring as dumbly as she feared when he went on to explain in a careful tone, “water? tea? something stronger?”

“Oh! Ahh…no…thank you. I’m sorry I woke you.” Thank God it was dark—although she was sure her face was probably lit up like a neon light as she became flustered by her wayward thoughts.  

He stepped closer and sank down on the lounge beside her. “You wanna
’
talk about the dream?”

The dream
. A shiver ran through her at the thought and she shrugged. “It was more of a nightmare than a dream, really,” she hedged. Somehow talking about it made it seem more real and she didn’t think that was such a good idea.

“It’s understandable that you might be having them. You’ve had a bit of a shakeup.”

“I dreamed they had Lucy.”

“Lucy is fine.”

“How are you so sure?” she demanded.

“Because we have someone watching the house. I told you, Brie, we’re not taking any chances with Lucy’s life. You can trust us.”

His words released a flood of instant relief.  “Thank you,” she blurted. “I’m not sure I’ve actually said it…but thank you.”
What would have happened to her and Lucy had this man not been watching over her all this time?
A sudden and uncontrollable gratitude rolled through her body and she found herself lifting a hand to touch the side of his face gently. Overnight his jaw had grown a sandpaper fine stubble and as she ran her fingertips across it, a spark of longing shot through her. Beneath her touch he was solid and warm and…safe. He hadn’t moved, he seemed almost frozen, but he didn’t stop her from touching him, he simply watched her silently.

Her fingers traced a path across his jawline and then back up across his mouth. Her eyes fixed upon his lips and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was the lightest of kisses—barely touching and more curious than anything, but that first taste ignited something far more needful and when she lowered her head for a second time, his lips moved hungrily beneath her own.

It was madness—
what the hell was she doing?
Part of her screamed, but the other parts—the ones that had been too long without this, put a stop to the protesting self-righteous objection and something far more primal took over.

Her hands roamed across the wide expanse of his shoulders and up his neck, her fingers making tracks through the short hair at his nape as he pulled her tightly against him. She needed to be closer and was frustrated when she found herself trapped against the back of the lounge. With an impatient groan, she pushed him back slightly and twisted around, straddling his lap. The instant contact caused a rough moan to escape from his chest and it sent a delighted shiver through her at the sound. Holding his face between her palms, she worshipped him with her lips, taking from him as though she were never going to be able to quench this lust burning inside her. Gently she rocked back and forth against the hardness of him and he growled his approval, holding on to her hips and pulling her tightly against him. The friction their bodies were creating became an unbearable, exquisite torment and she needed more—now.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she told him between kisses.

“So are you.”

“Fix it.” There was no time for politely phrased requests—it was taking all her concentration to form the basic two or three words she’s come up with.

And fix it, he did. Within seconds they were both relieved of their clothing and the cold air that suddenly touched everywhere and should have been a mood killer—only heightened the pleasure. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, and Brie let out a long almost painful sigh. She’d never been hit with lightening before, but she was pretty sure the impact of his mouth on her over-sensitive nipples was as close to that experience as she ever hoped to get. It was too much—her senses were in complete mayhem. It had been too long—far too long since she’d allowed a man to get this close. For a while she’d convinced herself that sex had been overrated and she wasn’t missing out on that much. Oh, how delusional she’d been to believe that. She wanted to hurry and she wanted to take her time—she wanted to find that escape…but she wanted this excruciating pleasure to go on forever…she was a mess.

“Jason, please,” she heard her voice beg.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was husky and low against her ear and it sent a shiver of desire through her body.

“I need more,” she whispered.  

“You can have it all, but there’s no hurry,” he smiled against her mouth as she swayed towards him.

“Trust me—I
need
it…now!”

“Then you’re lucky I’m a can do kinda
’
man,” he murmured between kisses.

“Stop talking—start doing,” she ordered. Apparently he didn’t understand the concept of urgent. Obviously he’d never been celibate for as long as she had or he’d appreciate how serious this was.  Luckily for her, he
was
a can do man…and man
could he do!
Something he continued to demonstrate long into the early hours of the morning.