Page 7 of Indecent Proposal

The list of offenses was longer than my arm.

But I wasn’t going to leave Claire to the local police. Hell no. I didn’t trust them to handle this kind of thing, or to keep her protected and safe when someone was actively pursuing her. That had been a professional sniper, and one daring enough to fire on a goddamn security company. You had to have a special set of balls for that. And without any proof or evidence of who was after her, all law enforcement could do was write up a report and Claire would be left hanging in the wind.

From what Claire told me, she had the feeling her now-deceased fiancé had been getting into something he shouldn’t have. Inevitably, it appeared he’d wound up in over his head.

Whatever it was, Richard had information, or maybe money, or an object, that he shouldn’t have had in his possession. These men were after something important or incriminating that they didn’t want to fall into anyone else’s hands. They thought, given Richard’s phone call to Claire, that she had it. Or at least knew about whatever Richard was involved in.

I had to figure out what thisthingwas—whether it was an actual physical item of some kind, or just information that lead to something else. Then I had to decide what to do with whatever I discovered, all before something serious happened to Claire.

Sure, she might not be able to pay, and we were running a business here. But I wasn’t a total asshole, and the fact that someone was actively shooting at her superseded her inability to compensate us. It wasn’t like the company was hurting for money. And since I was bringing her to my personal safehouse, I wasn’t going to screw our books over by using company funds or resources. Mostly, it was my time involved, and with no current cases on my docket, that gave me a small window of opportunity to figure all this out.

Besides, I believed in protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves, and I was in a position to help Claire. I’d do whatever it took to guard this woman, no matter what.

Although…

I had to admit, there was a bit of a personal angle to my generosity. First of all, I was bored as hell just hanging out at the office, and second and most fascinatingly, I liked riling her up. I knew it wasn’t the most mature thing of me to do, but I couldn’t help poking at her a little bit, just to see that fire and impudence flare to life. It had been a long time since I’d dealt with such a feisty woman, and I found everything about Claire Turner more than a little invigorating.

She was prickly, too, and didn’t exactly trust me after the stupid shit that had come out of my mouth before she’d been shot at. But I liked a bit of a challenge when it came to a case . . . and with females in general. You could keep your sweet, docile little submissive, eager to please and ready to serve. I wanted a woman who had a bit of bite to her, one who didn’t roll over like a puppy and made me work to tame her.

Claire was exactly that kind of woman.

Not that anything could really happen between us, I reminded myself. She was my client.

She’s not paying anything,whispered a traitorous part of my brain.Does that really make her a client? You’re doing her a favor, really. There’s no signed contract between the two of you.

I pushed those thoughts away. I wasn’t going to get distracted by a pretty face, no matter how pretty that face actually was.

And I had to admit, Claire Turner was damn pretty when her feathers were ruffled. I’d love to provoke her even more, if we were arguing under completely different circumstances.

But we weren’t, and I had to focus.

First things first: get her to safety. The rest could wait. I knew that she’d need supplies, more clothes, toiletries, things like that—but I could go on a quick shopping trip after I had her secure at my safehouse.

After sending an automatic message in code to the other two partners that I’d be off the grid for a bit on a special case, I went to my desk and dropped my usual phone in the drawer. I then grabbed my emergency phone, the one with the tracking blocker on it. It had no apps, wasn’t a smart phone, just a classic Nokia. It could do texts and calls, and that was all I needed it to do.

Next, I grabbed my Go Bag from the closet, just like the one I had at my actual apartment. It had a few weapons that carried light, all of them 3D printed out of plastic so that they didn’t weigh as much and wouldn’t ping metal detectors. There was a change of clothes, some cash in various currencies, and two passports also tucked inside. Hopefully I wouldn’t need all of that, but it was always best to be prepared for the unexpected.

“All right.” I led her out of my office and back to the elevator. “We’re heading out now.”

Claire gave me a skeptical look. “That’s all you need?”

I hefted the bag over my shoulder and arched a brow her way. “Not sure we’re off to a great start if you’re still doubting me, sweetheart.”

Claire huffed, her cheeks going pink with vexation, and I had to smother a grin. She was much too easy to rile up, and that was going to be a form of payment enough—if I could have some fun with her and push some of her buttons to get a reaction, then I’d say there was no need for money.

Of course, I’d love to have fun with her in other ways, but…I knew crossing that line would be stupid. When you started mixing personal with the professional, you were more likely to make poor choices. Choices based on emotion rather than common sense. And as previously fucking stated, I was the only one with common sense around here now that my coworkers were out handling their own cases.

I had to have a focused head on my shoulders, especially since Claire didn’t know what was going on, so I didn’t have a lot to work with. Richard was dead, so we were starting from square one. I’d figure this out, though—not just because of my damn pride—I’d never lost a client yet and I didn’t intend to start now—but also because I wasn’t going to let an innocent person die because her fiancé had gotten himself in over his head and fucked up.

We stepped into the elevator and I called down to the front desk while swiping my keycard. “Lisa, you okay?”

“I’m here, and the security team is, too,” Lisa said, her voice impressively calm considering the circumstances. “And I’ve, uh, called a cleanup crew for the broken glass.”

“Excellent. Tell security that I’m taking the client to a safehouse immediately. We’re headed into the garage now. I’ll be out of service but I’ll send a ping that I’m okay once I’m back in range, should be in…” I checked my watch and gave her a rough estimate of time.

If they hadn’t heard from me by then, they could sound the alarm.

“Okay,” Lisa agreed, used to our policies. “Good luck, sir.”

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