Under Pressure. Lori Foster
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“You led them to me.”
“Seems so.” Leese stripped off his coat and tucked it around her. “But now I’m going to ensure they don’t get you.” He lifted her chin. “You need to believe that.”
Oh, how she wanted to, but drumming up enthusiasm for the possibility wasn’t easy.
Leese stared into her eyes, brushed his thumb over her cheek, then shocked her silly by leaning down and putting his mouth to hers.
A rush of scalding heat chased off every shiver.
From the front seat, Justice let out a long, low whistle.
As he often did, Leese ignored his friend and current cobodyguard. Ending the kiss, he took in Cat’s expression and smiled. “Better.”
“Better?” she squeaked.
“You look a little less fatalistic.” His gaze moved over her face, her lips, her throat, before returning to her eyes. “While I have your attention, how about you explain what’s going on?”
Not like she had much choice now. Had he only kissed her to shock her out of her fear?
Apparently so, damn him. And it had worked—a little. But she couldn’t explain anything while looking at him; he affected her too much.
Slumping into the seat, her cheek resting against the cool glass of the window as she gazed out at the street, she lifted one shoulder and hit him with the truth. “I’m sorry, Leese, but you’re a dupe.”
* * *
HAVING ALREADY SURMISED THAT, Leese didn’t overly react. He needed answers, and staying calm was always the easiest way to get them. “I figured as much. But how about you explain the details?”
“Webb Nicholson—”
“Your dad.”
“My stepfather,” she corrected sharply. “I was five when he married my mom.”
Interesting reaction. “Go on.”
She hesitated, emotionally withdrawing. “I don’t know.”
“Cat,” he said gently. “You know plenty.”
In quick protest, she said, “Honestly, I don’t. I mean, I have my suspicions.”
“Fine. Let’s start with those.”
She shook her head. “I also have my doubts.”
“About me?”
She slanted a suspicious look his way. “Anyone can be bought.”
Not true, but convincing her of it wouldn’t be easy. “You still think I’m working against you?”
“I think it’s very easy for someone to confuse what is right and what is wrong, depending on what they’ve heard, who they heard it from, what they’re getting paid and who’s paying them. Few things are ever black-and-white.”
“Okay, let’s start with that. I haven’t heard jack shit. Your father contacted our agency and apparently said he wanted you protected. The agency assigned me. Period. The initial specifics I got from the owner and operator of the agency are that you come from wealth and you’re out on your own. That concerned your father.”
She snorted, then repeated stubbornly, “Stepfather.”
“Stepfather,” he conceded. “Through some research, I learned more about you. Recent stuff only, like your current job, hobbies, friends...that sort of thing.” Clearly he hadn’t dug that deep or he’d have known Webb Nicholson wasn’t her biological father. But given it wasn’t widely shared knowledge, he would have guessed they were close, that she considered Webb her father and he thought of her as a daughter.
“How would you know my friends?”
“Social media is always a start.” And since he hadn’t learned anything all that useful, he saw no reason to go into the specifics of how he’d been drawn to her even then. Her Facebook page had been left blank for more than a month, but prior to that, the things she’d shared and the comments she’d made were all humorous, optimistic, or inspiring. Nothing too deep or personal. Catalina Nicholson was not a woman who shared her life online.
She’d posted a few photos, mostly of artwork done by her students, or projects she’d organized for her community. Pics of her with friends, not family, and most of those settings were afternoon lunches with her girlfriends, movies, or casual dinners.
Not a single nightclub photo to be seen.
No dates with guys.
“So you completely snooped into my life?”
“As much as I could given the skills I have.” When she looked disgruntled, he decided it was a good time to move on. “No one mentioned any specific threats to me. My assignment was just to ensure your safety. Not to take you to anyone.”
“That’s why you didn’t hand me over to Tesh?”
Ah, so she definitely knew the creep from the parking lot. Interesting. “I’m not handing you over to anyone. That’s not my job. If you want to go with someone, I’ll follow. If you don’t want to go—”
“I definitely didn’t!”
“—then I won’t let it happen.”
They stared at each other until Cat again turned away. Unfortunately, dismissing him wasn’t a luxury she currently had.
“I never met your stepfather. I only know he paid enough that I could stick by your side for more than a month.” Leese watched her profile and saw her brows pinch together in obvious confusion. “What?”
Cat chewed over her thoughts before asking, “He paid up front?”
“Yes.” Leese didn’t know if it had occurred to her yet, but given she appeared to distrust the man, maybe he’d been buying his own alibi. Who could accuse him of wrongdoing when he was the very person who’d paid to ensure her safety?
Then again, Tesh—he needed to learn more about that man—had flat-out said he would take her to her father, and she hadn’t appeared to disbelieve that part.
Which maybe meant he and Justice would have been removed as witnesses.
“He’s used you to find me.”
Certainly seemed that way to Leese, but that only opened up more questions. Wondering how much she’d understand, and what she would share, Leese said, “Why not just hire a private investigator to do that? Why hire a bodyguard?”
She turned her head and dissected him with a long look. “The thing is, I’ve gotten good at figuring out who is who. I recognize his men real fast.”
“And you dodge them?”
Instead of answering, she said, “But you? You looked different to me. I didn’t think you were one of them.”
“I’m not.” Unable to help himself, he asked, “Different how? Not threatening?”
Her mouth curled. “Oh, you look threatening all right.” She sighed. “Just not toward me. Somehow I figured you were there to help, like... I don’t know. A Good Samaritan or something.”
Was he really so obvious? “Got all that in a glance when we first met, huh?”
She paid no attention to his humor. “People discount their instincts all the time. But not me. When my senses scream run, I run.”
“Into people,” Justice said.
“You snuck up on me!”
Justice grinned. “Honey, I’m nearly six and a half feet tall. I don’t sneak up on anyone.”
Peeved, she scrunched her brows. “Okay, so maybe I was distracted.”
“With