Guardian Angel (10 page)

"I am no man's woman," she stated through clenched teeth.

Jared continued grinning. "She's stubborn too."

Not caring to indulge in this ridiculous conversation any further, Alex whirled away and stalked over to Chris, who was talking to Rashid's secretary and two body
guards. He gave her a puzzled glance, but before he could ask her what the problem was, Mavis walked in to say dinner was on the table.

When they entered the large dining room, Jared steered Alex toward the chair she had used during lunch.

"You can play hostess again," he explained.

"And you know what you can do," she murmured acid
ly,
slipping into the chair he held
out for her.

Alex decided that too many of Mavis's meals would indeed turn her into a pudgy lady if she wasn't careful. Yet she couldn't resist the mouth-watering pork roast and delicately seasoned scalloped potatoes au gratin with blue
berry pie following.

Conversation during the meal was kept informal, as if the two principals had already agreed that this wasn't the time to discuss business. She smiled and replied when spoken to, but had no idea what she had said. After din
ner, Jared and Rashid excused themselves in order to engage themselves in a game of chess in Jared's study.

"Think we could talk these suckers into a game of five-card stud?" Chris murmured to Alex.

"With our luck, they could be card sharks." At that moment she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hopefully catch up on the sleep she had lost the night before. "Go ask. Just don't try any stupid signals in my direction. I'm pretty sure that Jamil carries the Middle Eastern version of the Bowie knife on his person."

Chris considered her words with a thoughtful frown. Jamil, a tall man in his late twenties, already sported a sinister-looking scar along one cheek. Alex had noticed him watching her closely that afternoon during lunch, but a few sharp words from Rashid had kept the man at a polite distance.

Chris was saved from making a decision when Jamil, speaking slowly in heavily accented English, explained he would walk about the grounds and then retire. Yussef, the second bodyguard, and Moustafa, Rashid's secretary, also excused themselves.

"Backgammon?" Chris turned back to Alex.

"Why not?"

Alex was able to forget her worries for the next few hours between backgammon and Chris's insane
comments during the game.

"I thought old salts played only poker," he challenged after she had won again.

"I learned poker when I was five. I've only been playing this for the past few years," she replied demurely.

"I'm sure glad I didn't suggest strip poker."

Alex laughed at Chris's sigh of relief—a laugh which she abruptly choked on when she saw Jared and Rashid standing in the doorway. Jared appeared angry while a faint smile of amusement played about Rashid's lips.

"There's nothing to worry about with him, Jared," Ra
shid murmured.

"I don't know what you mean." He made an effort to slowly unclench his hands.

Rashid laughed softly. "I can only hope that you will be as transparent during our negotiations, because I can then be assured I will make a lot of money. Now, I will bid you a good night." He turned away to head for his room.

"I don't suppose you persuaded Mr. Kalim to agree to your price over a hot game of chess?" Chris greeted their boss.

"We should be so lucky." Jared took a healthy swallow of Scotch from the glass he held in one hand. His green eyes captured Alex's gaze, which persisted in looking through him instead of at him. At that moment he wanted to shake her into awareness of him as a man—a man who wanted to discover the rest of the secrets he had only just begun to learn earlier that evening. A harsh note entered his voice. "I hope the two of you won't be too bored." Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.

Chris watched Jared's leavetaking with puzzled eyes before he turned back to Alex. "Alex, did you and the boss have an argument or something?" he asked curiously. "He was looking strangely at you during dinner, not to men
tion just now."

With a great deal of effort, she was able to produce a semblance of indifference. "Did he? I think he's just con
cerned about these negotiations." Seeing that Chris was
ready to interrogate her further, she rose from her chair. "I think I'll go to bed. It's been a long day."

Chris also stood up and leaned over to drop a light kiss on her forehead. "Just remember, I'm here when you need a friend," he said softly.

"Thanks, friend." She laid her palm against his cheek. "Good night."

Even with her lack of sleep the night before, Alex found it difficult to drop off. She rolled over onto her stomach and punched her pillow into a comforting shape. There was only one problem. It wasn't the shape her body was unconsciously seeking.

Since the meetings wouldn't begin until Monday, Sun
day was spent quietly.

Jared, Rashid, and one of Rashid's bodyguards drove into Santa Barbara for some sightseeing. Alex spent the afternoon in the study making use of Jared's calculator and going over the figures for her annual budget. Every tap of the total button and the displayed figures brought her closer to blowing her temper.

"Damn St. Clair for this," she muttered savagely, pick
ing up the sheets of paper and crumpling them before throwing them into the wastebasket. She made a mental note to call Dena in the morning with fresh instructions.

Expelling a weary sigh, she pulled her glasses off and dropped them on the desk. She leaned back in the chair and massaged her temples, hoping to get rid of her head
ache before it grew to gigantic proportions. She was glad that Jared wasn't around to increase it.

It was agreed that one bodyguard would remain in Jared's study with the two men and their secretaries while one would patrol the front of the house and the other the back.

Alex first made a quick phone call to Dena, brusquely informing her to type up the purchase requisitions for the security cameras, send them up for her signature, then snowball them through Accounting. She wanted those cameras installed within ten days and Dena had her per
mission to use her name and bully anyone possible to get the job done.

"It's nice to know that you'll be standing behind me in the unemployment line if this falls through," Dena said ruefully.

"It won't," Alex assured her in a hard voice.

After her phone call she went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and wandered outside to the porch.

Gone were the crisp businesslike suits. This morning she wore jeans tucked into black leather boots and a royal blue heavy challis man-tailored shirt topped by a down vest. Her gun and holster were fitted under her vest so that nothing could be seen. Settling herself in a rocking chair, she swung her legs up to rest crossed ankles on the porch railing.

"Now all we need is the James boys to ride slowly up the trail," she murmured, sipping the hot brew, all the time gazing at the surrounding hills. A pair of binoculars sat on the floorboards in case any unfamiliar movements caught her attention.

Alex had learned the fine art of patience a long time ago. By blanking her mind of all thoughts, the time passed without pain or boredo
m until lunch was announced. Af
terward she took her place beside Chris in the study.

"What's the score?" she asked softly, keeping her eyes from Jared's rugged figure dressed casually in jeans and a wool shirt.

"Even," he replied under his breath. "Neither is giving an inch."

"Wonderful." She expelled a deep breath. "At this rate, we'll be celebrating Christmas up here."

Chris arched a teasing brow. "Not too much faith in our leader," he chided. "This is only the first day. Things won't get hot until the end of the week at least."

That afternoon Alex sat in the soft leather chair and listened with half an ear to the conversation between the two men. What came through, instead, was the deep tones of Jared's voice, velvet, edged with steel, whose coverings coul
d be ripped off in a matter of
seconds. One moment he was amused indulgence, the next, a caustic wit that could tear a man to shred
s. She had to admire his quick-
minded intelligence and imme
diate grasp of the situation.
Without it, he wouldn't have gotten to where he was today.

For the first time, Alex listened to two men who were evenly matched in all ways. Chris was right. These negotiations could prove to be very long.

Several times during the course of the afternoon, Jared's eyes locked with Alex's but neither betrayed their thoughts. Both were masters of their own kind of disguise, but the other was beginning to see below the camouflage. It was only a matter of time before all the outer trappings would be ripped away to reveal the real person beneath.

A week later Jared and Rashid were still deadlocked. During one trying afternoon session Alex took an urgent telephone call from Dena.

"Oh, Alex, it's all broken loose around here!" Dena wailed before Alex barely had a chance to greet her secre
tary.

"St. Clair found out about the cameras?" she guessed.

"Found out? The man almost had a coronary," she continued. "He's threatened to tell Mr. Templeton how
we both overstepped our bounds. We'll be without jobs by the end of the week."

The gears in Alex's brain were already clicking away. Now was the time for a showdown, and she cursed Jared for her being here instead of at Fernwood confronting the head of Accounting with her facts and figures.

"Did you get that report compiled yet?"

"Yes, you'll get it in the morning." Dena took a deep breath. "Alex, I'm scared. Mr. St. Clair has a lot of power around here."

Alex smiled grimly. "Don't worry, Dena, no matter what happens, I won't let you be thrown to the wolves. Do you trust me?"

"More than I trust me."

"Then say the hell with St. Clair and take the rest of the day off," she instructed. "The man wants a fight and he's going to get one." The steel that threaded her voice was an echo of her father if she had but chosen to recognize it. Alex had been taught from an early age never to back down from an adversary. This was one time when those teachings would come in handy.

The report arrived with Jared's messenger along with the purchase requisitions with a scrawled "Not Ap
proved" across them along with the initials, W.S.C. Alex muttered brief but concise aspersions on Walt's character, then threw the requisitions into the wastebasket.

She wasn't surprised when Jared asked to see her in his study after dinner that evening. The grim lines etching the corners of his mouth warned her of what would come.

"I was certainly right when I said you have guts, Alex," Jared began without preamble once the study door was closed behind them. "I had a very interesting telephone call from Walt St. Clair this afternoon."

"Oh?" She dropped into a chair.

Jared shot her a dark glare. It was obvious that he was
barely able to keep his temper in check. "To begin with, he's accusing you of using your so-called relationship with me to get all your money-spending proposals pushed through," he sneered.

She may have appeared relaxed on the outside, but inwardly she was a jungle cat ready to pounce. "My opin
ion of the man would most probably burn your ears," she drawled.

"I doubt any more than some of the names you called me not that long ago." The cold rage on Jared's face would have quelled a lesser opponent. "I don't appreciate people making those kinds of insinuations, and I especially don't appreciate the nasty chuckles that accompany them."

"Then tell him to get off my back," she stated baldly.

"You're the one who's making trouble, Alex, not Walt!" he roared.

"Wrong!" she shouted back, jumping to her feet. "He doesn't believe in women making management decisions and he opposes me every chance he gets. I don't intend to let him oppose me on something as important as these security measures. We've already had one attempted as
sault. What happens next time if the proper precautions haven't been taken?"

"We've already spent a great deal of money for new security measures in the past year, so we should be ade
quately protected, shouldn't we?" Jared argued.

"Are we?" Her eyes flashed dangerous sparks. She turned around and walked toward the door.

"I'm not finished," he ground out.

Alex turned her head to deliver a scathing look. "I am," she snapped, opening the door and slamming it behind her.

As always, there was no warning to herald the distur
bance of her sleep that night.

Her body tensed under the covers and keening moans were torn from her throat. Fingers clutched the bedcovers in a frantic attempt to banish the horror.

"Alex, Alex!" The voice insisted on intruding but the dark shadows were strong this time and unwilling to give up their victim.