Kat Martin - Against the Sun

Jake shoved open the office door and walked in, passing Annie Mayberry, Trace’s receptionist and office manager, who was seated at the front desk. A small woman in her sixties with frizzy blond hair, Annie ran the place like a dictator. She also mothered the single men who worked there, and though they grumbled about her overprotective nature and salty disposition, everybody loved her.

“So how did it go?” she asked. “You take the job?”

“I’ll probably regret it, but yes, I did.”

One of her penciled eyebrows went up. “She’s a real beauty, that Sage.”

Jake’s steps slowed. He stopped and turned. “You knew Sage was the assignment? Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

Annie just smiled. “’Cause I was afraid you’d say no. You know how you can be when it comes to women.”

Jake frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you think a woman has only one job, and that’s to keep you entertained in bed. You aren’t interested in a female who might stand up to you. Sage Dumont is just as used to being in charge as you are. That has to chap your behind but good.”

Amusement warred with irritation. “She’s used to being in charge, all right. She works for her grandfather. Of course she’s in charge.”

“You might want to do a little checking on that. Sage started at the bottom. She’s good at what she does, and that’s why she’s been promoted so many times over the years.”

“How the hell could you possibly know that?”

“Because, smarty-pants, I read the newspapers. They’ve done a lot of stories about her and her family. Plus I did a little checking on the internet when Trace mentioned he was recommending you for the job.”

“All right, so let’s say she worked her fingers to the bone to get where she is today. Doesn’t change the fact that as long as I’m protecting her, she has do what I say.”

“You told her that? How’d that work out?”

“We talked things over and she agreed to follow my rules.”

Annie snorted as if he was deluding himself. “She’s engaged, you know.”

He scoffed. “That’s pretty hard to miss, with the size of the diamond she’s wearing.”

“Phillip’s not the right man for her.”

Jake couldn’t believe this conversation. And yet this was Annie. She had an uncanny ability to know everything that was going on, and she was usually right. “Really. And why is that?”

“Too soft. The guy was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. He’s never done a hard day’s work in his life. You ask me, Phillip Stanton’s a social climber. He wants to be part of the Dumont royalty. Sage is his ticket in.”

Jake mulled that over, wondering if it might be true. “So why is she marrying him?”

Annie’s mouth puckered. “I haven’t quite figured that out. If I do, I’ll let you know.”

“You do that.” With a shake of his head, Jake headed for his desk. Trace wasn’t in today, but Sol Greenway, Trace’s computer whiz kid, was pounding away on his keyboard at the desk in his glass-enclosed office.

Trace employed two other freelancers in the office. Ben Slocum, an ex-Navy SEAL, was off investigating a case, but Alex Justice, also a P.I., was working at the desk next to Jake’s.

“Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” Alex asked. He was a former navy pilot, a jet jockey who was a lot tougher than his blond-haired, blue-eyed appearance made him seem. “Heard you were taking a protection job for Sage Dumont. She is one hot lady.”

Jake grunted. “Why the hell is it everybody in the place knew S. E. Dumont was a woman but me?”

Alex grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Try watching TV sometime.” The guy was a real lady killer. Jake wondered if Sage would rather be working with Justice than with him.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said. But he wasn’t the TV type. He’d far rather be outdoors.

He sat down in front of a stack of messages, calls that needed to be returned, and went to work. All the while, Sage Dumont hovered at the edge of his mind. Maybe it was time he found out some of the things about her everyone else already seemed to know.

Three

Sage had her personal assistant, Will Bailey, reschedule her afternoon appointments. She was buried in work, but the most important thing she had facing her right now was the upcoming deal with the Saudis. Today, Jake Cantrell had caught her unprepared, and that wasn’t going to happen again. She skipped lunch and had Will bring her a ham sandwich off the meal cart that circled the floors every day.

For most of the afternoon, she sat in front of her computer, poring over Middle East business protocols and reading every article she could find on the customs of Saudi Arabia. The more she read, the more she discovered she didn’t know. And the more disturbing she found the information.

She had always been independent. It was hard to imagine living under the oppressive restrictions a Saudi woman was forced to bear.

Sage reminded herself that these people were from another country, another part of the world, and she had to respect their values and lifestyle. They were here as Dumont family guests and she would treat them accordingly.

She finished reading one last article on the screen, feeling even more exhausted than she had before. She had half an hour before Cantrell was due to pick her up. Allowing herself a brief respite to recover a little of her energy, she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

“Napping, Ms. Dumont?”

She shot upright in her chair, nearly launching herself across the desk. She blinked, her gritty eyes focusing on the imposing man standing in front of her.

“I was working. I—I must have nodded off.” Why was it he always caught her off guard? Damn the man for his timing, among other things.

“Maybe eating something will help.”

“I had a sandwich earlier off the cart,” she said a little defensively.

Cantrell looked at her as if sizing her up. “That’s not much. You ready to go?” He wasn’t wearing the suit he’d had on earlier, but a pair of faded jeans that hugged his long, powerful legs, and a dark blue T-shirt. The T-shirt stretched over a chest that was ridiculously wide and banded with muscle. She had to tear her gaze away.

“I need to make a quick trip to the washroom,” she said, “then we can leave.” There was a private bathroom in the office, one of the privileges of being a VP. Grabbing her purse, she darted inside, made a toilet stop, brushed her teeth, applied a little fresh lipstick. She straightened her ivory suit jacket as she walked back out the door.

Cantrell was waiting, taking up far more of her spacious office than most men did. She felt those blue eyes on her, assessing her in some way, and a little curl of heat settled low in her belly. She wondered what those perceptive eyes saw when he looked at her.

He followed her to the door, but it opened before she reached it, and her fiancé walked in. Immaculately dressed in an Italian designer suit, six feet tall and lean, with blond hair, hazel eyes and darkly tanned skin, Phillip looked as if he had just stepped off a Ralph Lauren billboard.

His gaze went to Cantrell, then returned to Sage. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, Phillip. Didn’t you get my message?” She sighed. “Ian hired Mr. Cantrell to help me learn the protocols before the Saudis arrive. We have to work on that tonight.”

“I see.”

“Phillip Stanton, this is Jake Cantrell.”

Phillip extended his hand. Jake shook it and stepped away, clasped his hands in front of him and splayed his legs, going into bodyguard mode. Phillip eyed him sharply. Sage caught a hint of disdain. Clearly, Phillip wasn’t happy that she would be working with Jake.