the hell had he dropped into this mess? His orders had been to lay low, get the kinks out of his bum leg, not to lie in a hot girl’s bed and get kinky. But what was done was done, and he wouldn’t trade last night for anything. It had been the greatest sex of his life. Not only had it been a mind-blowing orgasm, he’d had fun.
Ari was fun in bed and out of it. He was in deep shit, because this girl could blindside him if he ever dared fully trust her. She could be lying to him about knowing her dad’s location, or she might see Lance as her sugar daddy if she ever learned who his parents were. How she missed the news coverage about him after he’d taken the bullet for the president, he didn’t know, but he’d take a boon where he could get it.
He turned the Mini into the guard gate and handed over his identification to the guard. After a few moments, he was waved through and went to find a parking spot.
“Brown.” A weekend skeleton crew of a few agents and desk jockeys nodded and greeted him as he walked through the hall to his supervisor’s desk. He acknowledged their greetings, but did not stop to chat. He didn’t feel like rehashing heroic bullet catching, and a deeper, more mysterious part of him was anxious to get back to Arianna.
He knew she’d be safe with Valerie in the apartment with a doorman, but still he’d feel better if he could see her, smell her, kiss her. Jesus, he had it bad. He needed to shake it off and put on his best game face to meet with Sullivan, his director.
He turned through a few corridors before greeting Sullivan’s administrative assistant, a dour woman in the ugliest suit he’d seen in a long time. She pointed him toward the open door and got on her little intercom to announce his presence.
“Lance,” Sullivan said as he entered the office and found a chair. “You look good, rested. Maybe I should take some time off.” His solid body was framed by a large glass window with a view of the Potomac.
Lance doubted he ever would. Take time off. Rumor had it Sullivan had a foldaway cot and full set of clothing stashed in the building. His two ex-wives would agree he was married to the job.
“I feel good. Ready to get back to 1600.”
Sullivan chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
Lance leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “So, when can I get back to work?”
“Word on the street is you’re already back at work.” Sullivan paused to bark some orders into the phone handset. Lance’s stomach churned while he waited for his boss to explain the cryptic remark.
“How do you mean, sir?”
“Got a call last night from a friend at the Bureau. Said you were spotted with a Ms. Arianna Rose, daughter of Stanley Rose.”
Lance said nothing and maintained his stoic silence. Who he slept with was none of the Service’s business. Yeah, and he could keep deluding himself.
“Is it true? Are you shacking up with Ms. Rose?”
He debated for a moment how much to reveal, knowing there were few secrets in his world. “I’m helping out a friend. One of Stanley Rose’s victims decided to take his revenge by targeting his daughter. I’m playing bodyguard.”
Sullivan snorted. “From the look of things last night, you were guarding her body pretty damn closely. One might even say from the inside out.”
Lance shot out of his chair and placed his hands on the edge of the desk separating him from his boss. “How the hell do you know that? Who was watching us?” Fury reared up like an ancient dragon attacked by a knight.
“Easy, son. Sit down.” Sullivan remained stoic and silent until Lance backed off the desk and returned to his chair. “You knew the feds were following her.”
He gave a cursory nod.
“And you forgot to close the curtains.” Sullivan folded his arms across his chest as if daring Lance to argue with him.
“She lives in a second-floor loft. She has no curtains. I’ll put some up tonight,” he said, the last bit to himself. He inwardly
Ari was fun in bed and out of it. He was in deep shit, because this girl could blindside him if he ever dared fully trust her. She could be lying to him about knowing her dad’s location, or she might see Lance as her sugar daddy if she ever learned who his parents were. How she missed the news coverage about him after he’d taken the bullet for the president, he didn’t know, but he’d take a boon where he could get it.
He turned the Mini into the guard gate and handed over his identification to the guard. After a few moments, he was waved through and went to find a parking spot.
“Brown.” A weekend skeleton crew of a few agents and desk jockeys nodded and greeted him as he walked through the hall to his supervisor’s desk. He acknowledged their greetings, but did not stop to chat. He didn’t feel like rehashing heroic bullet catching, and a deeper, more mysterious part of him was anxious to get back to Arianna.
He knew she’d be safe with Valerie in the apartment with a doorman, but still he’d feel better if he could see her, smell her, kiss her. Jesus, he had it bad. He needed to shake it off and put on his best game face to meet with Sullivan, his director.
He turned through a few corridors before greeting Sullivan’s administrative assistant, a dour woman in the ugliest suit he’d seen in a long time. She pointed him toward the open door and got on her little intercom to announce his presence.
“Lance,” Sullivan said as he entered the office and found a chair. “You look good, rested. Maybe I should take some time off.” His solid body was framed by a large glass window with a view of the Potomac.
Lance doubted he ever would. Take time off. Rumor had it Sullivan had a foldaway cot and full set of clothing stashed in the building. His two ex-wives would agree he was married to the job.
“I feel good. Ready to get back to 1600.”
Sullivan chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
Lance leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “So, when can I get back to work?”
“Word on the street is you’re already back at work.” Sullivan paused to bark some orders into the phone handset. Lance’s stomach churned while he waited for his boss to explain the cryptic remark.
“How do you mean, sir?”
“Got a call last night from a friend at the Bureau. Said you were spotted with a Ms. Arianna Rose, daughter of Stanley Rose.”
Lance said nothing and maintained his stoic silence. Who he slept with was none of the Service’s business. Yeah, and he could keep deluding himself.
“Is it true? Are you shacking up with Ms. Rose?”
He debated for a moment how much to reveal, knowing there were few secrets in his world. “I’m helping out a friend. One of Stanley Rose’s victims decided to take his revenge by targeting his daughter. I’m playing bodyguard.”
Sullivan snorted. “From the look of things last night, you were guarding her body pretty damn closely. One might even say from the inside out.”
Lance shot out of his chair and placed his hands on the edge of the desk separating him from his boss. “How the hell do you know that? Who was watching us?” Fury reared up like an ancient dragon attacked by a knight.
“Easy, son. Sit down.” Sullivan remained stoic and silent until Lance backed off the desk and returned to his chair. “You knew the feds were following her.”
He gave a cursory nod.
“And you forgot to close the curtains.” Sullivan folded his arms across his chest as if daring Lance to argue with him.
“She lives in a second-floor loft. She has no curtains. I’ll put some up tonight,” he said, the last bit to himself. He inwardly
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