Hot Contract (23 page)

There were two sets of plush leather chairs
centered by flat panels and Jen's father occupied both. The
hands-on CEO of a company the size of a third world country, Art
Stalling was a big man with the pallid skin of someone who didn’t
get out much and harsh, dark black hair.

He jabbed a long white finger at Keegan and
got right to the point. “I’ve had you investigated—you and your
sibs, and that two-bit company of yours—and I’m telling you right
now, boy. Stay away from my daughter.”

Keegan gave Art a tight smile. “Fuck
you.”

Art's gaze swept Keegan contemptuously. “No,
Mr. Dalfrey. Fuck
you
. You’ve heard of the golden rule,
haven’t you? The guy with the gold makes the rules? Dump my
daughter, or your brother dies. I’ve heard it’s a painful death.”
The screens went blank.

Keegan stumbled out of the helicopter, past
Jen’s cousin to the now deserted temple. He stopped just short of
the platform, arms wrapped down over his gut, everything he’d
fought for condensed to this one point of total self-hatred. The
bad guys were contained, the Project was safe and…Jen was no longer
in danger. She was free to go anywhere she wanted. Without him.

Kai's kid had put DalCon on the Samoy's shit
list and Connor would die because Keegan couldn't keep his pants
zipped. He had some kind of self-destruct—bound and determined to
do the one thing guaranteed to fuck them all. Smoke rolled from the
crevasse, sharp and putrid, coloring his messed-up world
puke-yellow.

Jen ran through the entrance and threw her
arms around as much of him as she could reach, face pressed to his
back. “Keegan?”

There must have been a brush in that chopper,
because her hair was smooth and clung to the filthy Volcano tourist
jacket she’d bought him like nothing of her wanted to be apart.

Pain roared outward, throbbing out an insane
need to grab her and run. His hands clenched, pulling him back from
a precipice he refused to look over. She wasn't worth it. No one
was worth it—there was only family. And right now his family needed
him to do the right thing. He reached back to shove her off.

Jen bounced up and down, eyes dancing. “We
can catch a ride with Percy,” she said. “But we have to hurry.
They’re getting ready to leave—”

Percy. Keegan refused to look into the
shadows just inside the entrance. Jen’s brother would want it done
fast.

“You’re quiet,” she said. “That’s not good.
When we get home, I’ll make you scream.”

“Back off,” he grated.

Her grin melted on his soul like napalm.
“There’s a store on the way...I can buy more condoms.”

“Do I have to lay it out? I thought you were
smarter than that.”

Jen laughed. “Percy and Tris, my dad,
videoconferencing? Really, Keegan. You don’t have to draw me a
diagram. I'm smart. I promise.”

“Get real. It wasn’t even good sex.”

“It was great sex and I want to do it again.
You’re mine, Keegan Dalfrey." She stepped right up to him and
locked her arms around his waist. “And I refuse to let you go.”

Keegan looked her in the eyes. “How are you
going to stop me?”

“Like this,” she said, and kissed him.

He was going to explode. Her lips were so
soft, she was so soft—and he wanted her so much. He slid his hand
up between their lips and pushed, shoving her back against the
stairs.

“What the fuck is your problem? If you chase
every guy that does you, sugar, it’s no wonder you’re alone. I’ve
already told you, the sex wasn’t good. I’ve had better, and I don’t
want seconds.”

It took time for her smile to cycle through
uncertainty to disbelief. Keegan didn't hold back. He shoved her
again—hard, and sent her crashing into the wall behind her.

She cried out, one hand clenched to her
wrist. “You’re scaring me!”

He grabbed her injured wrist and squeezed,
looking right into her eyes. “You’re scaring
me.
It’s no
wonder your family pimps for you, sugar. How long do you keep ‘em?
Until they run away?”

She slapped her hand over her ear. “No!”

“C’mon, baby. I know you can hear me. Is
someone being truthful to you for a change? You want that sugar
coating back on? You think I love you—what a fucking joke.”

“That’s enough!” She jerked her arm away and
stared like she’d never seen him before. She’d grown up with money,
knew what it did to people. He was playing on her deepest fears,
and she was struggling to hold on to her faith in him.
Self-loathing concentrated the pain in his gut to a pinpoint of
red-hot anger. At that moment he hated her.

Tris stepped out of the shadows. His weapon
was pointed at the ground, but it was clear he was willing to blow
Keegan away at her say so.

He spared his cousin a sidelong glance, his
face expressionless. “You okay?”

A tiny line formed between her eyes and she
whispered, “You think I’d learn.”

Tris tapped his earpiece. “We’re ready to
lift.”

Jen nodded, years of social training
acid-etched in her smile. Her polite Stalling smile. For the first
time, Keegan noticed her clothes. The filthy dress was gone,
replaced by an expensive pink twin-set. She pulled a small
handkerchief from her pocket, and wiped her mouth and wrist.

“Well,” she said, her voice exquisitely
brittle, “that was so not fun.”

She threw her handkerchief down and turned to
leave.

“Hey!” Keegan called. She stopped. Still
hoping, damn her. “I always wanted to fuck a billionaire. Too bad
your boyfriend was right.”

“Let me shoot him,” Tris growled.

Jen looked through Keegan, in that instant
truly Art Stalling’s daughter. “Don’t bother.”

****

Jen rubbed at her knuckles. The back of her
hand was scraped and bruised. She tucked it down under the
comfortable throw in her lap. She didn’t remember hurting herself.
When had it happened, during that climb to the top of the
escarpment or her last desperate fight with Kate?

In her mind’s eye, she could still see Keegan
grabbing for her as she lurched for her aunt. Had he been terrified
for her, or her net-value? She couldn’t believe her stupidity.
Fool. Seeing what she wanted to see. Had he been playing her the
whole time?

Percy swore under his breath. It was dark in
the Pave Hawk. Her brother didn’t like cabin lights so the only
illumination came from his tablet and the outside running lights.
He slid one finger over the screen and drew up his knee.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” he said. He
propped the tablet against the armrest, pulled out his phone, and
snapped orders without bothering to identify himself. Tris caught
the phone in mid-air and listened to the reply.

“Take care of it,” said Percy. “Chandler was
Kate’s mole. Now he’s an inter-departmental sore spot. Make sure
he’s slotted back to Merlin, then warehouse him—”

Tris slid the phone into his pocket.
“Consider it done.”

Jen tried to keep the bitterness from her
voice, but it came out anyway. “Isn’t this were we left off?”

“Family parties,” said Tris. “Hate ‘em.”

He caught Percy's tablet before it fell and
put it on the seat next to him. The three of them were the only
people in the rear compartment. The flight crew sat up front.

“You hate everything,” said Percy.

“No,” said Tris. Too dark to make out. “Not
everything.”

He sounded tired and Jen knew that feeling.
She was tired, too. She wanted to crawl home and shut the world
out, but for today, she was afraid home was the family compound on
Oahu.

Maui glittered beneath them before it
dissolved into the nightmare sea. Percy showed no signs of
stopping. His heavily armored Pave Hawk moved over the ocean
silently, heavy insulation protecting them from the sound of
rotors.

“How self-contained you are, sister-dear.” He
eyed her over his steepled fingers.

“I’m in no mood for obscure put downs. Leave
me alone.”

“Won’t our father be amazed that you’ve grown
a spine?”

Tris stirred. “Nothing surprises Art.”

“True.” Percy sat up and looked through the
window. “Coming up on Oahu. Dad wants to talk to you, but—”

Jen took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him—”
Him....her dad, Arthur Stalling, architect of everything wrong with
her life. She’d loved him once. Did she love him still? Just the
mention of his name was enough to provoke every emotion in her from
betrayal to anger, and a desperate, never-gone-away need for his
approval.

Honolulu shimmered on the horizon, framed by
the dramatic spires of the Koolaus. StallingCo occupied the end of
a long finger valley, set on a series of plateaus high above the
city. There was only one access road. They didn’t like uninvited
guests. Most people arrived by air.

The landing pad glowed industrial purple and
lit up like a Christmas tree. Her mother’s last project had been to
paint it with big yellow polka dots. She’d always claimed her
family had no sense of humor. And she’d been right. What little
humor they’d possessed had evaporated the day she died, but the
circles were still there.

The helicopter landed and men ran out to
slide the door open. Percy shouted to be heard over the still
moving rotors.

“I have to change. You want Tris to go with
you?”

Jen got to her feet. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Against my better judgment, damn it. Your
choice, then.” He swung her to the tarmac, gave her one last look,
and started away with Tris, Security forming a phalanx around
them.

Wind from the downdraft blew out her hair.
She’d never put it in a tail when she lived at StallingCo, and
she’d kept the style, changing into her old clothes. She tucked the
heavy mass behind her ears and froze, paralyzed by the scent of
jasmine. Eliza Stalling had died young and Jen had blocked out most
of the time before her death. All that was left was the scent of
jasmine and memories of laughter. StallingCo had once rung with
laughter. Percy grew the fragrant bushes in direct opposition to
their father’s wishes. Some things never changed.

Heavy steel doors at the far end of the pad
opened and Merlin stepped out, elegant in white Prada, and
surrounded by her father’s security.

“Hello, Guinevere,” her least favorite cousin
said. “Welcome back to StallingCo.”

****

“...and if you wait in the lounge, someone
will be with you shortly.”

The door closed with a very definite
click.

Corlis slammed it with the palm of her hand.
“This is fucking crap! What is your problem? Go after her,
Keegan!”

Keegan turned away, half-blind and afraid
she’d see it. Showing weakness to Corlis was like going belly-up in
a shark tank. She’d eviscerate him to get what she wanted, and it
was obvious she wanted Jen as a sister-in-law.

“Kick him, Liss.” Fallon moved in closer to
his partner. “You know you want to...”

Corlis shoved him back. “I didn’t ask for
your opinion.”

Keegan froze. “Cameras.”

Corlis and Fallon straightened, abruptly back
to back.

“Three,” said Fallon.

“Four, if you count the one in the door.”
Corlis touched her hand to the burnished steel frame.

“Now, live on PetCam—”

“Corlis and her talking dog? Yeah, right.
This isn’t over,” she said to Keegan. “I’ll have questions
later.”

She turned and stalked into the depths of the
lounge. After a second, Fallon followed.

From the way his sister moved, Keegan knew
she was running on empty. Fallon had crashed during the flight in
from the Big Island, but Corlis had spent the entire trip twitching
with rage. She was furious.

Fallon wandered back, glanced up at the
cameras and scrubbed a hand through the stubble on his chin. “This
place is a fortress. I see where your girl gets her ideas.”

“She’s not my girl.”

Fallon smirked and sauntered away, back into
the lounge, his dirty boots tracking filth on the soft Persian
carpets.

The door opened and closed behind Percival
Stalling. The head of StallingCo Security had changed out of his
polo into a charcoal gray suit, and somehow found the time to shave
and put on some cologne.

Fallon was clearly audible. “Damn, what the
hell is he wearing? He even smells like money.”

Percy sighed. “Let’s keep this short. I
understand you have time constraints? StallingCo will provide
transport. My Hawk will take you down to the airport where we have
a Gulfstream on standby.” He held out a piece of paper. “We wired
your account.”

Keegan didn’t move. “Trying to buy me
off?”

“Trying to fulfill our obligation to you,”
corrected Percy, exquisitely polite. “You stayed within contractual
guidelines. The money belongs to you. However, the transport is
mine, and I would prefer you left Hawaii as soon as possible.”

Keegan held himself in through sheer force of
will. He wanted to wrap his fingers around Percy’s thick Stalling
neck and squeeze. And Percy knew it. The bastard.

“And if I don’t?”

Anger stripped Percy’s mask. “You’re the
strategist, Dalfrey. Think it through.” He folded the receipt down
into Keegan’s hand. “I will clean this whole mess up. I will scrub
it lily-white, including that police station your operatives
trashed. But if I ever find you or one of your people within a
hundred mile radius of my sister, I will take you out. Your family,
your friends, your company. Everything. I will carve them up—and
I’ll fucking eat them. As of now, Hawaii is off-limits to
DalCon.”

“Scary,” sneered Keegan.

“You don’t know how scary I can be. And pray
you never find out.” Percy turned away. “My sister expedited
payment to facilitate your removal. You have fifteen minutes. Get
out of my city.”

****

Jen’s father kept his office in the bowels of
StallingCo, in a suite cut deep into the ridge itself. The austere
room had a strange, hermetically sealed smell to it, redolent of
paranoid security in action. Jen walked around the rigid,
fashionably correct couch and glanced at her mother’s statue. The
pale Carrera marble gave her a gently quizzical look.