Tycoon Protector. Elle James
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Jackson closed the distance and held out his hand to the man. “Percy, good to see you. Have you seen the container with the special cargo yet?”
The man checked his handheld cargo tracking device. “Unloaded fifteen minutes ago. Should be in the second row of containers in that section.” He pointed to a row of containers on the dock.
“Thanks.” Jackson strode to the end of the row and found the container marked “Special.” When he circled behind the container, he noted the container door had been opened and part of the shipment had been removed. “What the hell?”
A forklift carrying a pallet with a crate on it headed away from the ship and the open container, moving faster than was authorized in the chaotic structure of the container yard.
“Mr. Champion? I’m Tom Walker, the super said I could find you here.” A young man probably in his early twenties hurried up to Jackson. He wore a crisp new business suit and shiny black wing-tipped shoes, fresh off the shelves. “Miss Sanchez sent me over. I’m the new management trainee on the executive rotation.”
Was this Ysabel’s idea of a joke? Not that he had time to worry about it when someone had pilfered his goods. “Did you see that?” Jackson pointed to the forklift. “I think that forklift driver took off with my property.”
“Was he supposed to?” Tom asked.
“No.” Jackson’s gut tightened, anger rocketing through his bloodstream the farther away the forklift moved.
“You want me to chase him?” Tom stared down at his wing tips and shrugged. “I could probably catch him if I was wearing my running shoes.”
“No, I’ll take care of it.” Jackson ran for an idle forklift he’d spotted standing between the containers. He hopped aboard and in seconds had the machine running. With the skill of one who’d done his share of stevedoring in his younger days, he backed out of the containers and turned toward the disappearing forklift. With a flip of a lever, Jackson shifted into forward and pushed the accelerator all the way forward.
Before the forklift moved two yards, Tom jumped on the back and held on to the cage surrounding the seat.
“What are you doing?” Jackson asked.
“Miss Sanchez told me I should stick to you like glue, no matter what.”
“She did, did she?” Jackson pushed the vehicle faster, swinging around the corner the other forklift had taken.
“Yes, sir. Wow! I didn’t know this rotation would be this exciting!” he shouted over the whine of the engine pushing the forklift to its limits.
Jackson didn’t know his return would be as eventful as his two-month trip. He could use a little calm and boredom about now.
The thief had a lead of at least a football field’s length, maneuvering past containers and personnel, narrowly missing several longshoremen unhooking a pallet from a crane’s cable.
The forklift made a sharp left turn, sliding between rows of neatly stacked containers in weathered shades of orange, red and silver.
Rage spurred on Jackson. When he reached the spot where the other forklift had spun to the left, he didn’t slow down. His forklift skidded to the right, skinning the side of a metal container, the clash of metal on metal sending sparks flying.
“You all right back there?” Jackson called out, a quick glance back at the young man made him smile.
The guy’s suit was dirty, his face smudged with grease from the forklift and his teeth shone white in a face-splitting grin. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Jackson could admire a tough kid. “You passed your first test.”
“Oh, yeah? What test is that?”
“Keeping up with the boss!” He poured on the juice and sent the forklift shooting forward, but he could no longer see the other machine. “Where the hell did he go?” Slowing his own vehicle, he was about to give up and get the police involved when a shout behind him made him jump.
“There!” From his perch on the back of the forklift, Tom could see farther. He waved his arm back behind him, jabbing his finger to the right. “He went down that aisle.”
Jackson slammed the forklift in Reverse and spun around, heading back the way Tom pointed. Like the young man said, the runaway forklift was making tracks across the container yard and would have gotten away if not for Tom’s sharp eyes and quick response.
As he closed in on the other forklift, Jackson prepared for a fight, but he didn’t get the chance.
The forklift jerked to the left, crossing Jackson’s path.
Jackson stomped the brake and swerved to the right.
The forklift skidded back to the right and then left. Clearly the driver had lost control and was headed straight for a container.
“Look out!” Jackson called out, but the forklift driver drove full speed into the twenty-foot container. A small explosion blasted wood crating and metal in all directions.
“Get down!” Jackson threw himself off the forklift and dragged Tom off the back. Before they could hit the ground, another explosion shook the earth as the propane tank on the wrecked forklift erupted in a fiery ball of flame.
“WELL?” Delia’s voice carried through the wood paneling of the bathroom door.
Ysabel stared down at the wand, blood rushing from her head, making her dizzy. As she’d suspected, but prayed otherwise, a blue line.
“Izzy? Are you all right?” Delia’s voice was soft but insistent, bringing tears to Ysabel’s eyes. She’d need her sister more than ever now.
Given all the other signs, Ysabel shouldn’t have been surprised at the results of the test, but she’d hoped that maybe she was wrong. Maybe she’d missed her period because of stress and maybe that same stress had caused her stomach to be upset every morning for the past month. Yeah, and maybe pigs could fly.
So she was pregnant. She’d handled bigger problems for Champion Shipping; she could handle the matter of a baby, no problem. Ysabel opened the door and holding the wand up for her sister to see, stepped out of the bathroom.
Delia squealed and hugged her sister so hard she couldn’t breathe. “I’m so excited. I get to be an auntie!”
Ysabel pried her sister loose and stepped back. “I’m glad someone is excited. You know it changes everything.”
Delia’s smile stayed in place. “So? Is that such a bad thing?”
“Only when the baby happens to be Jackson Champion’s.” Ysabel turned and paced the short length of Delia’s living room floor in her Houston apartment. “Jackson’s back in town.” She stopped and sucked in a long shaky breath. “Holy Mary Mother of God, I’m about to be jobless.”
“And pregnant. Why resign now? It’s just not like you to quit anything, mi hermana. You sure you want to give up the best job you’ll ever have?”
“I can get another.” Ysabel ran a hand through her sleek light-brown hair that had worked its way out of the normal tight ponytail at the nape of her neck.
“Paying as well as the rich gringo pays you?” Delia huffed. “Not likely.”
“Don’t call him gringo,” Ysabel automatically defended, dropping her hands to her sides, her fists tightening almost as much as the knot in her gut. “I’ll find another job.”
“So when are you going to tell him?” Her sister’s brows winged upward. “The man has the right to know.”
“I know, I know. I just can’t risk letting him find out until I get far enough away from him.”
“You really think