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I roll to a stop outside the Platinum Security office. Jax Wilder is a former LAPD cop turned owner and CEO of the private security company. Not that long ago, he had just two employees who he couldn’t afford to pay, Griffin and Ryker. He also had exactly one client. That first client changed everything.
Now, he’s expanded to a bigger, nicer building with its own parking lot. I spot a Mercedes with the full options package gleaming in the sun. It looks like Jax’s better half, movie star Easton Ross is in residence. Or rather Easton Wilder now that she and Jax got hitched.
A cool blast of conditioned air blows in my face as I enter the office. My eyes adjust to the gloom as I head down the hall to Jax’s door. On my way, I pass Ryker working a punching bag in the gym.
Ryker is an ex Navy SEAL badass. We first met in the jungles of Colombia, where we teamed up against our mutual enemy, Castillo. Back then I was still with the agency, on an undercover assignment. Until that bastard Castillo took my sister away from me…
I shake my head. Now is not the time for me to go to my dark place. I take a deep breath and continue past a door that hides massive computer power. I wonder if the resident tech specialist is in.
Arriving at the boss’ office, I rap on the thick wood, and hear Jax’s deep voice tell me to come in. I push the door open, prepared for Jax’s square jawed stoicism.
I’m not prepared for the guest he has in his office. At first my senses are nearly overwhelmed by an intoxicating caramel scent. Then I notice a dark mane of hair, black like midnight silk and with a glossy sheen. The long hair frames a lovely, olive skinned face set with two of the most compelling brown eyes I have ever seen.
Tight yoga pants and a tank top sheathe her body like a glove. I try not to stare, because she’s a client and it would be bad form. But my sweaty palms and thudding heart tell the truth my face refuses to.
“Ah, here he is now. Ms. Gilroy, this is one of my security specialists, Grayson. Grayson, this is Charlotte Gilroy.”
I approach her, offering a hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Gilroy.”
She takes my hand in a tentative, shaky grasp.
“Please, call me Charlotte. Ms. Gilroy sounds kind of weird.”
Charlotte’s full ruby lips form an uneasy smile. Her eyes swim with fear that belies the jovial expression. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that something or someone has terrified this lovely young woman in the most profound way.
I don’t know who or what threatens her. I don’t even know who she is. But I do know one thing.
Anyone who wants to hurt her is going to have to go through me first.
3
CHARLOTTE
Grayson’s presence washes over me. I felt it before he even entered the room. He cuts an imposing figure, with broad shoulders, square jaw, and sinewy build. I can see the hints of elaborate tattoos peeking out of his shirt sleeves. They look like they go all the way to his neck. The idea of sitting still for hours and hours while a needle goes in and out of your skin terrifies me, and Grayson’s done it a lot. This man is not afraid of pain.
His eyes capture me the most, however. The silver-gray depths of his gaze threaten to swallow me up whole.
Jax makes the introductions, but Grayson’s gaze never wavers from me. Grayson is subtle, but I can feel my skin burning everywhere he moves his gaze. This guy isn’t on the Platinum Security social media pages. He must be new.
Lucky me.
“Grayson is one of our newest assets, but he comes with a laundry list of qualifications. He spent over a decade working for the CIA.”
“The CIA?” My voice breaks a little when I speak. “What kind of stuff did you do for the CIA?”
Grayson’s nostrils flare as he takes me in with his gaze.
“The kind of stuff I’d have to kill you for if I told you about it.”
If anyone else said that sort of thing to me, I’d laugh in their face. Grayson doesn’t inspire anything of the sort. I feel a chill run down my spine. I can see things in the depths of Grayson’s eyes. Things that tell me he’s hurt people before. Maybe even killed them.
I should be afraid, and I am a little bit. But I should also be repelled, and I’m not. Instead, I feel a need to get closer to Grayson. A lot closer.
Jax keeps on talking, droning on about Grayson’s credentials. I nod and try to listen, but it’s hard to do anything with those smoldering silver eyes burning everything they touch.
Grayson is from the exact opposite universe as me. In my world, everything is out in the open, but glitzed up and staged and produced.
