Page 25 of Free to Fall

Chapter

Eleven

I hold up my hands in supplication to Keene. “I agreed to meet her.”

Keene rolls his eyes. “It’s just a matter of time. With Gore ...”

“Christ, that nickname,” I wince every time I hear it.

“You can thank the paparazzi for it. Specifically, StellaNova,” Keene informs me.

“Yeah. No thanks. I’m all stocked up on doing stupid shit in my life. I think I’ll leave you to be their target.” I’ve been privy to how much coverage my bosses get in the notorious gossip column.

“You’re lucky you can. Laura,” he emphasizes, “is going to work out brilliantly for you.”

There’s a knock on the door just as Keene finishes his sentence. Tony’s standing there with a bemused expression on his face. Judging by the slight lipstick smudge on his cheek and the way his cheeks are flushed, little hearts would be floating around his head if he were a cartoon character.

It’s a revelation considering Tony’s a lethal shot, can terrify agents of this company into organizational compliance, and has better hand-to-hand combat skills than most of our new recruits despite his age. Still, I have to muffle a laugh when his voice comes out dreamy when he announces, “Gore’s here.”

“Brace yourself.” Keene surges to his feet. I do the same, uncertain as to why but feeling necessary to be on equal footing to greet the illustrious Dr. Laura Lockwood for the first time.

Despite her uncle’s warning, I wasn’t prepared for the impact of her entering my office. Laura Lockwood started overwhelming my senses before I ever caught sight of her.

The clicking of heels announcing her movement.

Then came the subtle hint of sweet spice.

But neither of those two things warned me of my body’s reaction when the sharply dressed curvaceous brunette saunters into the room with inbred confidence not even an attempted murderer could strip away. I almost fall back a step at the force that surrounds this petite bombshell.

Now, I understand the invisible hearts floating around Tony—Laura Lockwood is stunning. It’s not just her face, which I was certainly prepared for based on the number of photos I studied. Maybe it’s her eyes I can’t look away from—a Caribbean blue color—a tsunami waiting to crash down on you as you drown in their depths. Even as they fixate solely on me, something shifts inside me—a paradigm of sorts. Perhaps some long-ago buccaneer in my blood came up against a wave of Laura’s presence and the magnitude of its sheer presence was passed down via our blood. Or it’s just the woman herself. A confidence that radiates off her that screams, “I am who I am. Take me or leave me.”

Silently assessing her, I determine if you strip away her custom clothes and subtle accouterments screaming an upbringing of wealth and privilege, this woman would still be a force to be reckoned with. Her formidable power emanates from her, dazzling those caught in its presence the way a well-cut diamond cascades rainbows around a room.

She’s a siren, a mermaid. Absolutely not, I think pithily, a woman who deserves the nickname “Gore.”

“Uncle Keene,” she greets him. It gives me a moment of respite from her allure, allowing me to drag air into my lungs before I’m hit again with the full magnitude of her head on.

This time, I’m prepared. That is until Laura holds out her hand for me to take. “Don’t let the blasphemy that persistently drips out of my uncle’s mouth influence your decision one way or another, Mr. Payne.”

Then she smiles, and it’s like being thrown off a dinghy into a tidal wave. Instead, she slides into professionalism as easily as I’m certain as she slid on her eight-hundred dollar heels. She extends her hand. Laura offers me a smile that demonstrates she’s not just made-up beauty, but she has a steel core buried in her as well. “Dr. Laura Lockwood,”

“Liam Payne. A pleasure to meet you in person.”

I reach forward and grip her fingers. Our hands connect. Immediately, her eyes flick away from mine for the briefest second. If I hadn’t been staring at her face so intently, I might have missed it.

As for me, the second our hands touch, I know I’m in for a scorcher of a summer that has nothing to do with blistering heat and everything to do with the woman in front of me. I haven’t felt anything like the arc of raw electricity that sizzled up my arm. Ever. Judging by the good doctor’s expression, neither has she.

She pulls her hand away and twists her head in the direction of her uncle to tease, “For shame, Uncle Keene. I’m going to have to tell Aunt Ali about you disparaging me to strangers.”

He hooks an arm around her shoulder and brushes a kiss to her temple. “I can handle my wife with one arm tied behind my back.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know that as well,” Laura counters.

“That’s my cue to let the two of you get better acquainted before I rack up any more demerits.” Keene’s face softens briefly as he places his fingers beneath his niece’s chin. They communicate silently while I scrutinize them. He winks at her. “Love you, Gore.”

“Love you too, Uncle Keene.”

Then it’s just the two of us, and Laura turns to me expectantly. Bailey. Right. The reason this sensational woman is even in my office. “Excuse my rudeness. Please, take a seat.” I gesture to the guest chair Keene just vacated.

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