Hero - The Assignment: A Military Romance (24 page)
A smirk flickered across her tired face. “I don't know about you quitting, Mr. Welch. You might lose some of Devlin's respect that way. You know, good people are supposed to see things through until the end, right?”
“Is that what you're doing?” I asked. “Seeing things through to the end?”
The words sounded harsh, but I didn't call them back.
“What end?” she asked darkly. “This is going to be my whole life.”
She walked away toward the house, holding herself too straight. I watched her, wondering if it was the inevitable hangover, or a different kind of hurt. Was she upset that I said I was leaving? Would it matter to her if I stayed or left?
I followed her into the house, forcing myself to keep my steps slow. I wanted to catch up to her, tear those sunglasses from her eyes, and see what she really thought. Maybe it was all an act. She thought she was supposed to play a certain part, the stereotype of a spoiled, rich girl in Los Angeles. She didn't believe anyone, including her grandfather, thought she could be anything else.
My resolve weakened. It didn't matter what she'd done. I hated the thought of her hurting.
“Leighton?” I called as she walked down the hall ahead of me. “Ms. Machus.”
I had no idea what to say except that I wanted more from her, for her. She'd probably laugh at me, ask me why she should care what I thought, but before I left I had to tell her I knew she could be more.
“Leave her,” Devlin said, opening the French doors from his office. “Some of that fancy water, vitamins and a few sleeping pills, and she'll be right as rain by tonight. Just in time for you to have to chase her out and around again.”
As much as I didn't like it, I had no choice but to let Leighton go and follow my employer into his office. He was a busy man, and I could tell he'd been up working for hours, if he'd ever gone to bed to begin with. Despite running an empire that kept him busy day and night, there wasn't much that escaped his notice. Devlin deserved to know right away that I planned to leave.
Before I could speak, however, he held up his hand to stop me and said, “I know, I know. You're giving notice. You want to quit.”
“Yes, Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience,” I said.
“I don't accept and you're not leaving,” he countered mildly.
He marched around the other side of his desk and flipped through a stack of papers. He pulled out a folder and placed it in front of him before crossing his arms and looking at me.
Not surprising, but that didn't mean I was going to let it go. “I'm sorry, sir, I just don't think I'm the best person to guard your granddaughter.”
“Because you met Leighton four years ago when you saved her from drowning?” Devlin asked, eyes sparking. “Because you slept with her that night?”
I dropped down in the chair Devlin indicated and gritted my teeth. He could've only gotten that information from one place. “Paris Lockhart told you.”
“Yes, I got a call from Paris last night,” Devlin said. “I made a few calls. It wasn't hard to confirm enough of the basics to know she was telling the truth.”
Shit. Well, there went any chance I had of ever returning to active duty. Devlin could pull strings and make sure I never got near the military ever again.
“Please accept my resignation, sir,” I said. “There are plenty of qualified men in personal security. I'm positive you can find someone with more experience than me. Someone without my...history.”
“I won't find someone else because you're not quitting,” he said. “I need someone with your finely honed ability to suss out other people's motives. I need someone with your hand-to-hand combat training, your instincts, your quick-thinking, and your dedication to your mission. And you've already proven that you'll save my granddaughter in life-threatening situations.”
“With all due respect, sir, Leighton is more adept at surviving in Los Angeles than me,” I continued to argue. “I'm sure there's someone else who knows the territory better than me and will blend in with Leighton's lifestyle easier.”
“Tell me.” He leaned over his desk. “Did you consider breaking down the door and dragging her away from that little bastard she sometimes calls her boyfriend?”
Of course Paris would have included that tidbit in her trouble-making phone call. I gripped my knees and said nothing.
“Exactly,” he said. “That's why I won't accept your resignation. I need someone who truly cares for Leighton, someone who will truly fight to keep her safe, but knows when to draw the line between protecting her and letting her make her own mistakes.”
“Safe from what?” I didn't like the sound of that.
“These.” He opened a folder on his desk and spread out a thick stack of threats. Almost all of the letters mentioned Leighton by name. The most recent mentioned dates, times, locations, and details of what she was wearing. It was obvious someone was watching Leighton. What exactly that meant was unclear, but one thing was certain: Leighton's life was in danger.
End of HERO Book 1: The Assignment. The story continues in Book 2, HERO: The Ambush, release December 1
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Acknowledgement
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of all my series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About The Author
MS Parker
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
