Kat Martin - Against the Sun

Jake was beginning to think maybe Annie was right, and Sage had climbed the corporate ladder with a lot of hard work. Not that being a Dumont hadn’t opened the door.

“Okay, what else?” she asked.

“You’ll need someone you work with to attend the meetings with you. He’ll be the one who asks most of the questions.”

“But I can handle that.”

“If you do, they’ll think you’re a lackey. They’ll figure they should be speaking to someone else, someone who has the actual authority.”

Sage shook her head. “I spent half the day reading up on all this, and I still don’t have a clue. I hate to say it, but I’m glad you’re here to help.”

Jake’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t expected to hear those words, at least not so soon.

“There is one thing,” she said.

He swallowed the bite of lasagna he had taken. “Which is…?”

“I don’t like the idea of you carrying a gun. I assume that’s what you’ve got clipped to your belt. Do you think it’s really necessary? I mean, as big as you are, and with the training you’ve had, surely you can handle any problem that might come up without shooting someone.”

“Probably.” He took a drink of his wine. “The problem is, if the other guy is carrying and I’m unarmed, then you and I are both in deep shit.”

Sage sat up a little straighter. “I think we should wait and see if a gun is really something you’ll need.”

“No.”

Her lips tightened. “I don’t like handguns.”

“Noted.” He returned his attention to his food. Sage fumed in silence, but the smell of the delicious pasta was nearly irresistible and pretty soon she was eating with the same gusto as before. She nearly cleaned her plate, and ate at least two pieces of toasted garlic bread. Jake enjoyed food, lots of it. He liked that she wasn’t a priss about eating.

They carried on with their work, and he was impressed that she seemed to know more than he’d thought. When the meal came to an end, he paid the bill, which would go on his expense account, and they rose from the table.

“We’ll need to brief your people,” he said. “And you have to get those Saudi names. I’ll be in at nine in the morning. That’ll give you a little time.”

She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.

“We got a lot done tonight,” he said as they drove back to the office. “More than I thought we would. Your research really helped. Now you need to go home and get some sleep.”

She shook her head. “I’ve still got a few things to do here at work.”

Jake reached over and caught her hand, saw the surprise on her face. “I’m beginning to understand how important this deal is to you, Sage. You’ll need to be at your best when the Saudis arrive. Get some sleep. We’ll start again tomorrow.”

She nodded, and he let go of her hand. He didn’t say any more as he dropped her off in the executive parking lot, but couldn’t help wondering if Phillip Stanton would show up at her apartment and spend the night in her bed.

The thought didn’t sit well.

Jake had taken an instant dislike to the man, who was a little too much the way Annie had described him. Soft and self-indulgent, more worried about himself than what might happen to the woman who was going to be his wife.

The Jeep engine purred as Jake waited for Sage to slide behind the wheel of her silver Mercedes S550, start the engine and drive out of the lot. He’d been right about her being rich. Everything about her spoke of money and class. She was a little cantankerous at times, but not as bad as he had expected. He wasn’t sure yet about the spoiled part. He’d get around to deciding on that.

In the meantime, he needed to take his own advice and get some sleep. He’d already canceled the plans he had made for the evening. Funny thing was, even the thought of a night of hot, raunchy sex wasn’t enough to stir his interest in Deanna Leblanc.

Four

Jake awakened at his usual early hour, five-thirty, and rolled out of bed. His apartment off Buffalo Speedway was a small oasis in the middle of the huge metropolitan area, a two-story rectangular complex with fountains and lakes in the center, and trees and grass all around.

He’d been born in Iowa, raised on a farm. After his father died, during Jake’s senior year in high school, he’d felt compelled to stay and help his mom, but as soon as he’d finished junior college he had joined the marines. He had worked outdoors ever since. The lush foliage and grassy landscape outside the windows made his apartment a respite from the hustle and bustle, the closed-in spaces of the city he worked in, at least for the time being.

Over the years, Jake had never stayed in one place too long. Instead, he’d enjoyed the challenge and excitement, the financial rewards, of taking jobs all over the globe. Though lately he’d been thinking that might change.

He was beginning to feel as if Houston was home, beginning to build a network of people he cared about. Thanks to a friend named Abraham Lincoln Jones, a man Jake had worked with off and on, he had even gotten involved in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. It felt good to be part of a community for the first time in his life.

Still, he wasn’t sure it was possible for a man like him to settle in one place for long.

Jake yawned as he walked into the kitchen and went about making a pot of coffee. He felt refreshed today, almost glad he hadn’t been up half the night getting laid.

Almost.

The problem was, he didn’t want Deanna. His dumb-ass libido had begun to fixate on Sage Dumont. Last night he’d dreamed about her, a lusty dream that had left him covered in sweat with a raging hard-on. The bad news was he couldn’t even remember what they had done together.

Not enough, that was for sure. As he climbed into the shower, he turned down the temperature until the water was just above chilly. He would be spending another day with Sage—hell, he’d be with her at least another week. He almost laughed. If he took a cold shower every day, it wouldn’t be enough.

He turned off the water, towel-dried his hair, shaved, then dressed in a yellow oxford cloth shirt and another of the tailored suits he kept for protection details, this one dark brown. In the kitchen, he poured a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and took a sip.

Heading for the front door, he collected the copy of the Chronicle that waited for him every morning. As he started back to the kitchen, he read the headlines and jerked to a halt.

Saudi Sheik to Arrive in Houston

Potential Oil Rig Deal with Marine Drilling International

Jake’s jaw tightened. Ian Dumont had assured him the story was being kept out of the papers. He continued reading only long enough to see Sage’s named mentioned as the vice president in charge of the transaction.

Son of a bitch. Downing his coffee in a couple of gulps, Jake grabbed his Heckler-Koch .45 and shoved it into its leather holster. Then he clipped the holster on his belt, grip forward on his left side, where it was easy to reach with his right hand. Plucking his suit coat off the back of a kitchen chair, he headed for the door.

He knew where Sage lived, a high-rise in the Galleria District. Her grandfather had already arranged clearance for Jake to access the building whenever he needed.

He fired up his Jeep.

His job had just kicked into high gear.

* * *

It was still early, just after six, but Sage was dressed and ready for work. She had her bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand when a hard knock sounded at the door. She frowned. Why hadn’t the guard in the lobby phoned before sending someone up?

She peered through the peephole and recognized the massive chest blocking her view. When she opened the door, Jake Cantrell strode past her into her condo.