Crave (The MacKenzie Family #11) (6 page)

“Relax, I’ve got men on her,” Declan assured him. “And Robert is with her. They’re travelling to that giant pink compound in Florida. She’ll be safe and well guarded until you get there.”

“And then what? She’s got a professional hit man out for her. One of the best any of us has ever seen. Has Taber ever missed an intended target?”

He squared off against Declan and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an answer. Declan didn’t move from behind his desk. He leaned back in his chair and picked up a pen, rolling it between his fingers.

“Tell me, Dec. Has Taber ever missed a target?”

“You know he hasn’t,” Declan finally said. “He’s the best there is. But so are we. I don’t hire anyone less than the best.”

“What does Evangeline know?”

“Nothing about Taber and the level of danger she’s in. As far as she’s concerned it’s a vendetta against her as a witness. For that matter, Lockwood doesn’t know about Taber either. Taber’s professional work started a couple of years after Robert retired from the CIA, so he’s an unknown entity.”

“She’s going to resist, you know. She’s headstrong and stubborn on her best days. The last thing she’s going to want is my protection.
Especially
my protection. She hates my guts.”

“Are you saying you can’t handler her?” Dec asked, his brow quirked curiously.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I can handle her just fine. She’s just not going to like it.”

“As long as she stays alive she doesn’t have to like it. And you can make her love you again. You’ve been known to pull out the charm when you want. Must be that South Carolina drawl that makes women turn to putty in your hands.”

Dec went back to whatever he’d been working on before their meeting and Cal knew he’d been dismissed. He headed toward the door, running through the argument he and Evie were sure to have the moment she realized he was going to be her bodyguard, and wondering how the hell he was going to keep her safe. Taber was batting a thousand in assassination attempts.

“Oh, and Cal,” Dec said. “Maybe some day you’ll fill me in on what really happened on that mission in Russia. Evangeline didn’t always hate you.”

Cal didn’t turn back. Dec always saw more than a person intended—could infer more from a look or a hesitation than most people could get from a full written confession. It was one of his gifts.

Instead he kept walking, the decision already made to make things right between him and Evie. Because there was no way in hell he could guard that luscious body without sharing her bed. It was time to put the past where it belonged.

R
obert Lockwood considered himself a patient man. He’d headed the CIA for a decade, overseen countless ops, and dealt with politicians without bloodshed. Surely that made him qualified enough to deal with his daughter.

“Evangeline. You’re overreacting. Take a deep breath and sit down. This isn’t at all how I taught you to respond during a high-tension situation. Emotions cloud logic and have no place during a mission.”

“I’m overreacting?” she said, stopping her pacing to stare at him in disbelief. “You take all of my choices away like an errant child and put me in lockdown in another state with a contingency of bodyguards who all happen to be eligible bachelors and
I’m
overreacting?”

Only a lifetime of training kept him from wincing at the bite in her voice. Saying she was angry was an understatement. Energy practically crackled around her. Her hair had always been as reddish-gold as a sunrise, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it down. She always wore it pulled back. Even in Florida in the middle of the summer she was as unassuming as ever in a pair of baggy lounge pants and an oversized shirt. She’d spent the last ten years trying to hide away so no one noticed her, never making an effort to cultivate relationships or move out of her comfort zone. He worried about her a great deal.

Fortunately Robert had built a career on noticing things. She’d become even more withdrawn and secluded after his Anna’s death several years before, and he was even more determined to get her to enjoy life. He knew better than anyone how precious and short it was. He’d lost a good woman and a lot of men under his command during his almost seven decades on earth. And he’d be damned if he’d give up just because she was throwing a temper tantrum.

“Daddy, are you listening to me? You’ve got that look on your face you use with politicians where you pretend to listen but you’re really thinking of all the other things you need to do.”

He laughed for the first time since he’d heard the news about the threat made to her. She was his heart and soul, and he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. He wasn’t always the best at showing his love, but he did it the only way he knew how. To try and make sure she was safe and secure. In his mind, that was the most anyone could ever ask for.

“You look just like your mother when you get angry. Have I ever told you that?”

She growled at him and he held back another chuckle. If she was anything like her mother in temperament she’d be throwing things at his head before too long. God, he missed that woman. She’d been his partner in every since of the word, and there’d been a void in his life ever since her death.

“You forgot to mention that there’s a maniac after you who’s doesn’t particularly want you to be able to be a witness when he’s caught and this thing goes to trial.”

“Daddy—”

“Don’t you Daddy me, Evangeline Elizabeth Lockwood. There’s a difference in being independent and just plain foolish. And this time you’re being foolish.”

“I can take care of myself, and I can hire my own bodyguards if I feel I need them. The police and the FBI are watching my house. I’m be perfectly safe staying there. This guy killed a Senator and destroyed my home in broad daylight. He’s making stupid choices. There’s no way he can keep doing what he does and not get caught. I’ll be just fine at home.”

“Uh, huh. And I’m sure it won’t bother you at all to stare at the broken things you’ve worked so hard for and the blood on the walls. Hell, the ambiance might do you some good. What was I thinking? Lets call a cab and get you back home.”

She rolled her eyes and he knew he had her. Children were predictable creatures after all. At least to a certain extent.

“How long am I supposed to stay here?” she asked, finally dropping down onto the couch across from him. “I have a job. I have responsibilities. I can’t just take off indefinitely while the investigation continues. The last I checked they were no closer to finding the identity of Biddle’s killer than they’ve been from the beginning.”

He took a sip from the bottle of water in his hand and thought carefully how to best answer. “We’ve got some added help from superior sources,” he finally said. “Sometimes jobs like these call for the best. And I just happen to be in the business of knowing who’s the best. Trust me. We’ll know who killed Senator Biddle very soon.”

“If you’ve got everything worked out then there’s no point in me wasting my time and the money you’re spending on hired goons.”

“I’m not sure your new bodyguard would appreciate being called a goon.”

Cal Colter had been called a lot of things in his thirty-six years, but he was pretty sure that goon wasn’t one of them.

“All I’m asking is that you give it a week,” he said reasonably. “Think of it as a vacation for my peace of mind. Myron Biddle had his fingers in some pretty interesting pies. Believe me when I tell you that the list is long for those who probably wanted him dead. And the people on that list are very good at killing. I’d prefer my only daughter wasn’t added to the body count.”

“I’ll give it a week,” she said. “But you and I both know that living hidden in fear is no way of living at all.”

“I dislike it intensely when you use my own words against me.”

She grinned and he saw the little girl he remembered—the precocious child with the brain of an adult who’d given him every gray hair on his head. She’d been a handful, and he’d not always known the best way to deal with her. But he’d enjoyed every minute of it. Or almost every minute.

She’d once decoded the intelligence reports from the operatives he had placed in Iran. It had taken her about five minutes to read what had taken him almost two hours. And he’d gotten a tongue-lashing from his wife that still sent shivers down his spine once she found out he’d let a six-year-old girl decode an entire report—most of which wasn’t at all suitable for a child.

It was a good memory. And he was getting maudlin in his old age. Maybe he
was
becoming an old woman.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the atmosphere in the room changed. Despite the fact there’d been no noise to alert his presence, Robert knew they weren’t alone anymore. Cal was good, and he felt a swell of pride to know that he’d been the one to train him.

“If you keep zoning out I’m not going to help you host that party at the end of the month,” she said.

“I’m not zoning out. I’m compartmentalizing all the different things I need to do today.”

“So you’re ignoring me? That makes me feel much better, thank you.”

“I hate that shirt your wearing,” he said, just to be contrary. “You could fit Barnum and Bailey’s under there.”

“Men your age shouldn’t wear shorts,” she countered. “You’ve got legs like a chicken.”

He snorted out a laugh and then made the transition in conversation abruptly. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Since you’re in such a good mood let’s talk about your bodyguard.”

“Really, Daddy, you’re getting ridiculous with your matchmaking attempts,” Evangeline said. “It’s obvious to everyone involved.”

She propped her bare feet up on the coffee table and crossed her ankles. “Who is it this time? An ex-Navy SEAL? An Army Ranger? I hope it’s someone with a sense of humor. You’ve sent some real duds lately. I’ve barely been able to stay awake once they start talking about themselves.”

His lips pinched and he steepled his hands in front of him. “Now, really. You’re being ridiculous, Evangeline.”

“You always get very proper whenever you get called out. Have you ever noticed that? Of course you have,” she said, before he could answer. “You were the Director of the CIA. I’m sure you’re familiar with all of your weaknesses.”

“Little girl, a little respect please. I’ve always said that smart mouth of yours is going to end you up in hot water one day.”

“Sorry, Daddy. I have no idea where I get that from,” she said, cheekily. “I’ve told you before I have no desire to get married and have children. No matter how badly you’d like to see that. I’ve got everything I want in my life.”

“That’s perfect. Because this time I’m not trying to use my matchmaking skills.”

She arched a brow in surprise. “So you’re admitting that’s what you’ve been doing all this time with the personal bodyguards?”

Her father smiled and shrugged unrepentantly. “You’re my only child. I just want you to be happy. I also want you to be safe. Which is why your protection comes above all else in this case. Besides, I’m out of single men who fit the profile. You’ve broken all theirs hearts.”

She chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest, snuggling down a little farther into the couch. Maybe she could use a vacation. She hadn’t stayed at the beach house since before her mother’s death. If you could call a three story pink monstrosity a beach house.

He’d bought the house for her mother the week after she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her father was a tough man—a hardass on his best days and something not worth mentioning on his worst days. But he’d been a softy when it came to his wife. She’d been happy there for almost three years longer than the doctors had given her to live.

Evangeline cleared her throat and pushed away the memory. “So if you’re out of poor saps you can marry off your daughter to, who are you left with? Attila the Hun?”

“Not too far off,” a voice said from the doorway behind her.

Her blood chilled and her head snapped toward the voice she hadn’t heard in years. Surely her eyes deceived her. She blinked once—then once more—but his image didn’t disappear.

Cal Colter in the flesh looked better than he had any right to. Better than she remembered. And her memory was pretty damned good. He’d always been the kind of man people noticed. It wasn’t his looks so much as the way he carried himself. He had an aura about him that screamed danger.

His hair was black as sin and he wore it longer than he had ten years before when he’d been on active missions. Crystalline blue eyes stared at her mockingly and black brows winged over them. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and his growth of beard was thick.

She worked her way down his body, her mouth going dry the farther she went. She didn’t know if she was normal when it came to what she found attractive on a man. But she’d always been captivated by Cal’s shoulders. The breadth and strength of them, and how nicely they filled out the black t-shirt he wore. The black ink of tattoos showed below his sleeves, more than he’d had the last time she’d seen him. He wore linen pants the color of wheat and she wondered if he was carrying a weapon. She wasn’t sure it mattered if he was armed. If she saw Cal Colter walking toward her in an alley, she’d turn around and go the other direction. He was dangerous with a capital D.