Elle James - Marine Force Recon

“You had your chance to make a call.”

Declan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

The detective leaned forward, his lip curling back in a snarl. “Look here, jerk, I have ten dead tourists, nineteen injured, and the DC mayor and the President of the United States breathing down my neck for answers.”

Declan clamped his lips tight. He was done talking.

The door opened behind the detective and an older man in uniform stuck his head in the door. “Solomon, a word with you.”

The detective gave Declan a narrow-eyed glance. “We’re not through here.”

As far as Declan was concerned, they were.

Detective Solomon left the room. A moment later, a different officer entered. “Mr. O’Neill, please come with me.”

Declan rose, fully expecting to be led to the rear of the building and stuck in a cell. His stomach rumbled. He was all for being incarcerated if it meant getting a meal out of it.

Instead, the man led him out of the holding area and back to the front of the building.

A group of men in dark suits stood in a cluster around a woman. She waved them aside and strode toward him, her head held high, her blood-stained clothes worn like a suit of armor.

She was the woman he’d saved from the kidnappers.

“Declan O’Neill?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me.”

“You have been cleared of any charges. These kind officers are releasing you.” She raised her eyebrows and stared around at the policemen standing by, as if challenging them to say anything different.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“What do you not understand about your being released?” she asked. “I told them that you saved my life and fought valiantly against my attackers, risking your own life to save mine.” She frowned. “I’m appalled they took you into custody to begin with. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who witnessed your heroism. Between my account and those of others who were nearby, you’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am. Makes me sound like your grandmother.” She sniffed. “As well I could be. But that’s neither here nor there. My name is Charlotte, but my friends call me Charlie. I prefer Charlie. And if you don’t have a ride, I would gladly take you anywhere you want to go. And the sooner, the better. It’s almost midnight, and I’ve had a hell of a day.”

“Thank you, Charlie.” Declan squared his shoulders. “I don’t need a ride,” he lied, unwilling to admit he was homeless, possessionless and broke.

“Then we’ll wait until your ride arrives.” The woman looked around, found a chair and promptly sat.

“You don’t have to wait,” Declan said. Appalled that he would be caught out in his lie.

“I want to make sure the police don’t decide to reacquire their prisoner.” She glared at the nearest officer. “He’s not one of the terrorists who attacked me,” she reiterated.

The officer held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying he is, but we can’t have a crowd in the building. We have work to do.”

The older woman harrumphed and rose to her feet. “Fine, we’ll wait outside for Mr. O’Neill’s transportation to arrive.” She nodded toward the four men in suits. “Come along.”

Charlie led the way to the exit. Before she could open the door, Declan stepped in front of her. “Let me,” he said.

Charlie smiled. “Such a gentleman.”

“No, ma’am.” He stepped through the door and closed it in her face. After scanning the area around them, he turned and opened the door for her to come out.

She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a frown wrinkling her brow. She leveled her glare at the men in suits. “You should have gone out first and checked for potential attackers. Instead, you let this young man do it for you.” She flicked her fingers. “You’re all fired.”

The men in suits frowned. One of them stepped forward. “But—”

Charlie held up her hand. “Uh, uh, uh,” she said. “No excuses. You may go home. I won’t be needing your services.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the man who appeared to be in charge. “To get you back to your own transportation.”

The man took the bill and left with the other three to find a taxi back to wherever they’d parked their vehicles.

Charlie sighed. “Now what am I supposed to do?” She gave Declan a bright smile. “I don’t suppose you would like to come to work for me, providing my protection?”

A job? Declan didn’t want to appear too needy, but hell, he’d just been offered a job.

“What exactly would it entail?”

“Oh, I don’t necessarily want you to be a bodyguard. However, I’d want you to be in charge of hiring a bodyguard for me, or four or five. I lost three good men today. And two more are in the hospital, fighting for their lives. I’m tired of terrorists getting away with murder, and the authorities are doing so very little about it.

“And after I’m situated with personal protection, I might want you to do a lot more.”

“More what?”

“More making things right where they’ve gone completely wrong.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not into being a vigilante.”

“And I’m not into spending years on red tape and bureaucratic nonsense while good, honest people are taking the fall, literally. Like today. Not that I’m all that good or honest, but what happened shouldn’t have.”

“Why did it happen? What did they want with you?”

“I’m sure they were going to hold me for ransom or some such nonsense. I’m loaded. Everyone always wants to get their hands on my money. Hell, if they asked for it nicely, I’d probably give it to them.” Charlie waved her hand. “You haven’t answered my question. Do you want a job or not?”

He wanted one, even if it was with a slightly deranged older woman. But she had to know the truth about him. “Don’t you want to see my résumé, do a background check, see if I have a criminal record?”

She ran her gaze from his head to his toes. “I’ve seen all I need to see.”

He bristled at her perusal. “I’m not a gigolo.”

She laughed out loud. “Now, that conjures way too many tempting thoughts.” Her smile faded. “Not that you’re hard to look at. But I loved my dearly departed husband completely, despite what the tabloids might have said. I don’t anticipate any man filling his shoes anytime soon, if at all.”

With the possibility of being hired as a sex toy cleared up, Declan still had one more obstacle. “I was dishonorably discharged from the US Marine Corps.” There, he said it flat out. It still hurt to say the words. He’d put his entire life into his career as a Force Recon marine.

Charlie slipped her purse over her shoulder. “I know.”

Declan stared at the woman, shocked. “You know?”

“You don’t think I’d offer you a job if I didn’t know what I was getting into, do you?” She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“No, ma’am.”

“Charlotte or Charlie. Not ma’am.” She held out her hand. “You’re coming to work for me?”

He hesitated only a moment longer before taking her hand. “Yes, ma’—” he took her hand “—Charlie.”

“How soon can you start?” she asked.

“As soon as you want me,” he said. “Preferably sooner than later. I don’t have a ride and the five dollars in my wallet is going toward a hamburger.”

“Dear Lord, why didn’t you say so?” She nodded toward the parking lot. “I’m hungry, too. I haven’t had a decent hamburger since I hired a French chef. It’s well past time to indulge.” She held out her arm.