Keeping Her Safe. Myrna Mackenzie

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Keeping Her Safe - Myrna Mackenzie


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don’t know that much about investments,” she said, even though she’d already done plenty of research on the Internet. “What exactly do account managers do?”

      Neil opened his mouth to speak, but Brad pulled her away. “Oh no, none of that work talk. This one’s mine, and we’ve got other ground to cover, Gerard.”

      Natalie felt the heat of anger rising within her. She wondered how much of this conversation Vincent had heard. Brad was drinking, and he was getting louder by the minute. “Come on, babe,” he told her. “You’ve met everyone. Now let’s go somewhere and…talk.”

      Four

      Vincent felt like grinding his teeth. The good-looking predator had Natalie in his sights, and he wasn’t about to let her get away.

      “I don’t even have to hear what they’re saying to see that,” Vincent mumbled. Because the man was practically draping his body around Natalie. She didn’t look especially comfortable, either. Especially when the guy led her to a table in the corner of the room.

      For a second, Vincent thought he saw Natalie glance his way, but she turned around just as quickly. Not that it mattered. As a man, he knew all too well what this guy had in mind, and it just wasn’t going to happen. At least not on his watch, Vincent thought, rising and heading back toward that dark corner. Within seconds, he was within hearing range.

      “Here,” the man was saying. “Right here.” He sat down heavily on a stool pulled up to a tall table and dragged another stool close to his. “I’m not really into group togetherness. You’re much too tasty to share.” He smiled at Natalie with that pretty-boy face, his voice slightly slurred. He was urging Natalie toward the stool, which would put her practically right on his lap.

      Fiery anger rolled through Vincent. He hated men who tried to use a physical advantage to coerce a woman. He’d had far too much experience of that kind of thing, and it still hit him right in the gut.

      Fueled by that thought, Vincent took the few steps necessary to reach the small, intimate table. Pretending to be looking elsewhere, he blundered into the stool the guy was trying to muscle Natalie into, bumping it aside.

      “Hey buddy, watch it!” The guy’s voice was that of an on-the-edge drunk. Vincent knew that routine all too well. He’d lived it far too often when he had been growing up, and it wasn’t the indignant lush that concerned him. Instead he turned his attention to Natalie, who had to have been surprised by this turn of events as he had approached the table from behind. Her pretty eyes were big and green and startled. He remembered telling her that he would make himself scarce. Damn.

      “Excuse me, must have been my mistake,” he said to the jerk attempting to seduce Natalie. “I apologize if I created any problems for you,” Vincent added, turning to Natalie. He motioned to the stool that he had somehow knocked two feet away from where the lech had placed it. “Please, be seated,” Vincent said, nodding to Natalie.

      “Yeah, sit here, babe,” the drunkard said and he started to move the stool again.

      Quickly Natalie sat, the stool still a good twelve inches from where the guy had first placed it. Vincent wanted to wink at Natalie but refrained.

      “Thank you,” she said to him softly, “but it really wasn’t necessary.”

      Maybe not to her, but to him? Guys like this one brought out his worst side. But he only shrugged and smiled at her before he started to walk away. For half a second, he thought she smiled back, and warmth spiraled through his body.

      Idiot, he told himself. This woman was a job. That was all she was to him. And as far as she was concerned, he was a necessary nuisance, one she was eager to shed. He’d better do his best to remember that.

      “At last, we got rid of him. Now it’s just us,” Brad said, scooting closer to Natalie. Somehow she held back a sigh and wondered if she was going to get anything at all out of this encounter other than a headache. Immediately, a vision of Vincent glaring at Brad and apologizing to her, his eyes dark and fierce, slipped into her thoughts. Her heartbeat skittered, and she cursed herself. She was here to get information, not start acting ridiculous about a man, especially a man she had no business even thinking about.

      Reluctantly, she turned to Brad. “Tell me about your work,” she coaxed.

      “Work?” he asked, smiling slyly. He slid his hand toward her knee.

      She moved slightly, and he missed. He nearly toppled from his stool. “Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all.

      “No problem. Let’s not even mention work, though,” Brad said. “Like I told Gerard, this night isn’t for work.” He attempted to touch her knee again.

      She evaded him. Again.

      Natalie wanted to scream. Was this night going to be a total bust? “Oh, but I’m fascinated by the word broker. It’s such a powerful term, so masculine.” She leaned forward on her elbows so that her knees were inaccessible. Of course, her breasts were more exposed, but she had fists and she knew how to use them. Not that she wanted to use them. Sooner or later, she wanted this man to either confirm or disprove her suspicions about what was happening to her friends. That wouldn’t happen if she sent him flying. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, hoping that those were the magic words that would get him to stop leering and start talking.

      Brad grinned, leaned back and began to talk. “You’re right, brokering is a very powerful profession. Gets me respect, power, money. Practically everything I want. What I want right now is to see more of you, especially those pretty legs,” he said with a knowing smile. “Come home with me tonight, and I’ll tell you all about the life of a broker, some of my conquests.”

      Somehow, Brad found her knee and squeezed. He started to walk his fingers higher.

      Natalie fought the urge to strike out. Instead, she scooted back and away from his roving hands. She was obviously not going to get any information from Brad Herron tonight. “Whoa, it’s really getting late,” she said, looking at her watch. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed. And tomorrow’s a working day. I have to get home and get some sleep.”

      Brad’s brows nearly touched, he was frowning so hard. But then he almost visibly pulled himself together and smiled. “You’ll be back, won’t you?” It was almost a command rather than a question, the comment of a man who was used to getting his way with women.

      “I might be.” She would be, but it wouldn’t do to appear too eager. It was information she wanted, nothing more. Next time she would come prepared with a better plan.

      He laughed, reaching out quickly as if to grab her again. She dodged as he laughed again. “You’re a fascinating woman. I’ll bet you look great naked.”

      Natalie refrained from decking the guy. Instead she gave him a fake and fleeting smile, said goodbye and did her best to walk calmly toward the door. Just as she was leaving, she saw Neil Gerard from the corner of her eye.

      He smiled shyly in a little-boy kind of way.

      “It was nice to meet you,” she said, and he tugged at his collar self-consciously. “Next time we’ll play pool,” she added, motioning to the cue he held.

      He nodded jerkily and she moved toward the door.

      “Watch yourself, Gerard. I’ve got first dibs,” Brad called, but Natalie could tell he was just making fun of the shyer man. “You wouldn’t know how to handle those legs, anyway.”

      Natalie didn’t look back, but quickly exited the building, letting herself out onto the cool, dark street and heading toward home.

      She was halfway down the block when she heard the noise pick up again, and she guessed that Vincent had left the bar. Immediately she felt an urge to tug on her skirt. Which was completely ridiculous. Her skirt wasn’t even revealing. It wasn’t tight.

      But she could feel Vincent’s eyes on her and she felt suddenly


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