Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations by Maryann Jordan Page A
Authors: Maryann Jordan
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sitting on either side of him, introduced as his brothers, held the same expression. She wanted to close her eyes for a moment to see if an image would form in her mind, but she did not dare. A shiver ran over her as the presence of pure evil rushed through her. She felt Bart’s hand on her leg once more, offering a reassuring squeeze.
Bart continued to press Gavrill for details about Erik’s kidnapping, but received nothing. Gavrill glanced at Faith to see if she had more questions, but she shook her head slightly.
As they were escorted back to their vehicle, Bart kept his hand on the small of Faith’s back, guiding her as well as providing a modicum of comfort. It was obvious she had never been around men like Miguel or Gavrill and the need to protect was overwhelming.
They stayed silent as they drove back through the security gate. Faith turned and said, “What—”
“God, I’m so hungry. I forgot we didn’t even eat breakfast. Wanna grab some food and then we can talk about everything?” Bart said, then mouthed, Truck is bugged.
Her eyes opened wide as her mouth hung open in surprise. She watched as he nodded his head toward her, indicating that she should speak. “Um…yeah…we could…eat,” she stammered.
Taking over for her, he kept up a rambling conversation, sprinkling it occasionally with non-secure comments about Gavrill. Throughout it all, Faith sat quietly, feeling lost. Pulling up to a diner, they got out. Walking over to her, he said, “Go on in and grab a table. I’ve got to make a call to have my truck swept for possible bugs.”
He looked down, her large eyes peering into his. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” Giving her a little nudge, he watched as she entered the restaurant, then he moved to the side, pulling out his phone.
“Jack? Gotta get my truck de-bugged.”
“Volkov?”
“Yeah. I can’t be sure, but I’d bet while we were inside his men worked my truck over.”
“Mitch is there in Virginia Beach. He was going to meet with you after you have a chance to interview Maldoni. I’ll send him a message to catch up with you.”
Great. Just fuckin’ great. “Thanks, boss,” Bart added, hating the idea of Mitch Evans having a chance to be around Faith again. What the fuck am I thinking? he admonished himself. I certainly don’t care who she sees…or scams. That idea caused the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. Nothing she’s done has indicated that she’s anything other than what she said—a psychologist who’s gifted at reading people and with the ability to transfer that to her art.
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he shoved his phone back into his pocket in frustration. He had never had a woman put him on such edge. She was such a paradox; he wanted to denounce her one moment, protect her the next. And if the tingling when he touched her was any indication? That’s not all I’d like to do. The last thought had him shaking his head in frustration. What the fuck am I thinking?
Walking into the diner, the hostess immediately puffed out her chest, glancing down to make sure her cleavage was showing before greeting him enthusiastically. Bart noticed this—he rarely missed the preening that women did when he was near and always reciprocated with a smile and a wink. His eyes landed on the dark haired woman in the back who saw him walk in and greeted him with a pure smile. Glancing back to the hostess, it slammed into him how Faith’s genuine smile struck him in a way that had the hostess’ greeting leaving him empty.
He pushed past the eager woman in a hurry to move closer to Faith, feeling the daggers in his back. Chuckling, he slid into the vinyl padded booth opposite of her.
She cocked her head to the side, wondering why he had such a big smile on his face. “Are you all right? Is the truck bugged?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I’m fine and Jack’s having someone check the truck for us. We have time to eat before they come.”
“Oh,” she said, not able to
Bart continued to press Gavrill for details about Erik’s kidnapping, but received nothing. Gavrill glanced at Faith to see if she had more questions, but she shook her head slightly.
As they were escorted back to their vehicle, Bart kept his hand on the small of Faith’s back, guiding her as well as providing a modicum of comfort. It was obvious she had never been around men like Miguel or Gavrill and the need to protect was overwhelming.
They stayed silent as they drove back through the security gate. Faith turned and said, “What—”
“God, I’m so hungry. I forgot we didn’t even eat breakfast. Wanna grab some food and then we can talk about everything?” Bart said, then mouthed, Truck is bugged.
Her eyes opened wide as her mouth hung open in surprise. She watched as he nodded his head toward her, indicating that she should speak. “Um…yeah…we could…eat,” she stammered.
Taking over for her, he kept up a rambling conversation, sprinkling it occasionally with non-secure comments about Gavrill. Throughout it all, Faith sat quietly, feeling lost. Pulling up to a diner, they got out. Walking over to her, he said, “Go on in and grab a table. I’ve got to make a call to have my truck swept for possible bugs.”
He looked down, her large eyes peering into his. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” Giving her a little nudge, he watched as she entered the restaurant, then he moved to the side, pulling out his phone.
“Jack? Gotta get my truck de-bugged.”
“Volkov?”
“Yeah. I can’t be sure, but I’d bet while we were inside his men worked my truck over.”
“Mitch is there in Virginia Beach. He was going to meet with you after you have a chance to interview Maldoni. I’ll send him a message to catch up with you.”
Great. Just fuckin’ great. “Thanks, boss,” Bart added, hating the idea of Mitch Evans having a chance to be around Faith again. What the fuck am I thinking? he admonished himself. I certainly don’t care who she sees…or scams. That idea caused the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. Nothing she’s done has indicated that she’s anything other than what she said—a psychologist who’s gifted at reading people and with the ability to transfer that to her art.
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he shoved his phone back into his pocket in frustration. He had never had a woman put him on such edge. She was such a paradox; he wanted to denounce her one moment, protect her the next. And if the tingling when he touched her was any indication? That’s not all I’d like to do. The last thought had him shaking his head in frustration. What the fuck am I thinking?
Walking into the diner, the hostess immediately puffed out her chest, glancing down to make sure her cleavage was showing before greeting him enthusiastically. Bart noticed this—he rarely missed the preening that women did when he was near and always reciprocated with a smile and a wink. His eyes landed on the dark haired woman in the back who saw him walk in and greeted him with a pure smile. Glancing back to the hostess, it slammed into him how Faith’s genuine smile struck him in a way that had the hostess’ greeting leaving him empty.
He pushed past the eager woman in a hurry to move closer to Faith, feeling the daggers in his back. Chuckling, he slid into the vinyl padded booth opposite of her.
She cocked her head to the side, wondering why he had such a big smile on his face. “Are you all right? Is the truck bugged?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I’m fine and Jack’s having someone check the truck for us. We have time to eat before they come.”
“Oh,” she said, not able to
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