Читать книгу: «Hard Justice»

CHAPTER ONE

WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG, Fallon Wade’s heart jumped into a beat so furious, it stole her breath. He was here. She wasn’t ready, would never be ready, but she hadn’t been given a choice.

Opening her bedroom door very quietly, she tiptoed to the staircase landing and peeked over.

Her father and mother stood before the man, in her line of vision. But it didn’t matter. He towered over them and it’d take a giant to block him. Holy smokes. He had to be at least six-five.

Muscles bulged everywhere. Like...seriously. Everywhere. Shoulders, biceps, chest, neck; he stood in a casual pose, if a brick wall could ever be casual.

Dark hair stuck up in a messy faux hawk. An untrimmed goatee mixed with beard shadow covered a hard, square jaw. And his nose...well, his nose looked as if it had been broken. At least once.

Or maybe multiple times.

Oddly none of that detracted from his extremely rugged good looks, but rather added a dangerous, sexy edge. He certainly looked more than capable of providing protection.

While her father, no doubt a little shell-shocked, prattled on about what was and wasn’t acceptable for his “precious daughter,” the man shifted his weight, crossed his arms and, with polite impatience, listened.

Until he glanced up at her.

It was a passing glance at first, as if he’d felt her scrutiny and was only mildly curious. But then those dark sinner’s eyes shot back and locked onto her.

Fallon couldn’t have been more flustered if he’d reached out and touched her.

Her father, realizing he’d lost his audience, jerked around to see her, too, and then her mother, as well.

Busted.

With all eyes on her, Fallon cleared her very dry throat and squeaked, “I’ll be down in a minute.” Escaping back into her room with alacrity, she closed the door and collapsed against it.

Hand to her thundering heart, she thought, potent.

Definitely macho.

And big. Oh, so big.

Not at all what she’d been expecting.

Okay, maybe having a protection detail wouldn’t be so bad after all. She had prepared to meet the usual Men in Black clone with the requisite suit, dark glasses and grim expression.

Instead, he wore sneakers, faded jeans and a graphic T-shirt with an open flannel for added warmth. If she hadn’t heard her father lecturing, she would have assumed him to be someone else.

Maybe a landscaper.

Or, given his cross demeanor, something more nefarious—like a burglar.

It took Fallon a few seconds more to get her feet moving, then she darted to the closet with new excitement. Shoot, even having a bodyguard would be an adventure when the bodyguard looked like him.

She stepped into her flat-heeled shoes, found a cardigan to pull on over her top and chose a scarf to drape around her neck. She didn’t particularly like the outfit, but no way would she make him wait while she went through her wardrobe.

After one last fluff of her brown hair and a quick swipe of gloss over her lips, Fallon squared her shoulders, filled her lungs with a fortifying breath for courage and ventured forth.

The second she stepped out, she heard his deep voice and paused to listen.

“No need to worry. I’ll cover her.”

Her father choked, turned it into a cough, and said with authority, “She is not to be alone. Not for a single second.”

“Promise I’ll stick real close.”

Alarmed, her father corrected, “But not too close.”

“Just close enough, then.”

“No one is to get too cozy with her either.”

“No cozy shenanigans,” he said. “Got it.”

“She’s naive and doesn’t understand that thugs—” here her father paused for effect, his narrowed gaze on the man “—might try to use her to get to her wealth.”

“Yeah? That’s happened before?”

“Well...no.” Her father harrumphed in that familiar way that showed his annoyance. “But it’s a very real concern.”

“Anyone know her itinerary?” the man asked.

“Even we don’t know it,” her mother explained.

“That’s good then. Not like anyone can plan to use her if they don’t know where she’ll be.” The bodyguard sounded accepting of all the rules. “Don’t sweat it.”

Fallon strangled on a breath. Dear God, he’d just told her mother not to “sweat it.” In her memory, no one had ever spoken to the refined Mrs. Rothschild Wade in such a way.

It was, Fallon decided, somewhat hilarious.

“I realize it all seems extreme,” her father said. “But Fallon is delicate.”

No, I’m not, Fallon wanted to shout. She’d never been delicate, or naive. It was her parents who couldn’t deal, who couldn’t move on. Their worry had all but crippled her—and she’d helped. In trying not to add to their burden, she’d made things worse. For their sake as well as her own, she had to make some changes.

With a note of humor, the big guy replied, “Promise I won’t break her.”

Fallon snickered, but her mother just stared, so her father rushed to reassure her. And Fallon just wanted to get out the door with her hunky new bodyguard before her parents had a complete meltdown.

Tonight was a meet and greet, and hopefully the path to fun and cutting loose and finally being free. Safely. If all went well, if the bodyguard suited her, she’d get to be on her own, living her life without the shackles of the past. Limited freedom, yes. There were some things that, for her, would never change.

She’d had a very sharp reminder of that lately.

However, she could change the scenery. She could change the outlook and her attitude. And she would.

When she reached the landing at the top of the curving staircase, she saw that he stood there at the bottom.

Waiting.

Again his gaze trapped her. He had a way of staring that consumed a person. Beside him her father looked small, even though Clayton Wade stood nearly six feet tall and looked very distinguished with his silver-tipped hair and impeccable manner.

Holding the handrail and attempting a smile, Fallon started down.

“You will remember your place,” her father said to the man.

Oh, dear God. Mortified, Fallon wailed, “Dad.”

“My place?” the man asked.

“As an avuncular escort who will, at all costs, ensure her safety.”

Fallon wanted to disappear. Did her father honestly think that massive hunk of macho man would be attracted to her?

He looked merely confused, not insulted, so she rushed to move beyond her father’s awkward reprimand.

“You’re my protection detail?”

“Afraid so.”

What did that mean? Did he regret the assignment already—or was he expecting her to regret him? She waited, but he said nothing else, just tracked her every step as she descended.

Her father broke the silence. “Justice Wallington, meet my daughter, Fallon Wade. Fallon, Mr. Wallington is the security I’ve hired from the very respected Body Armor Agency.”

As she got closer, she said, “Mr. Wallington,” in formal acknowledgment.

“Justice will do, Ms. Wade.” His gaze skipped quickly down her body, then forcefully back to her face. He looked to be concentrating.

Did he just check me out? Fallon wasn’t at all sure, but it felt like it and her voice went squeaky again. “All right. Then you must call me Fallon.”

He tugged at a thickened ear. “Works for me. I’m not much for ceremony.”

That prompted her father to start lecturing again. “She is not to be out of your sight.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“If anything happens to her, we will hold you and the agency responsible.”

“Nothing will.”

Her father scowled. “Ms. Silver swears you’re capable.”

“That I am.” Though Justice spoke to her father, he didn’t look away from Fallon, and she shivered at the deepness of the voice that stroked over her skin like a warm caress.

“She also said you were a professional fighter,” her father continued.

“Was once,” Justice agreed. “I fought with the SBC, but I don’t compete anymore.”

“SBC?” her father asked.

“Supreme Battle Challenge. Best known fight organization there is.”

Ah, a fighter. Fallon gave him another quick glance. She supposed that explained the damaged ear, crook in his nose and the outrageous hairstyle. “Not a boxer,” she guessed.

“Mixed martial arts, so kicking, grappling, submissions, but yeah, I’m a pretty good boxer, too.” He jokingly threw a few shadow punches, then, with a glance at her dad, quickly sobered. “Not to brag or anything.”

With a critical eye, her father said, “Admittedly, you’re not what I expected.”

“You were looking for Rocky Balboa? The one in the later movies, not the first? He did get slick in the last few, huh? That’s not me, though. Never will be.”

Such an outpouring left her father stymied for a moment. “Well, my wife and Ms. Silver did suggest that you’d be able to blend in.”

Fallon remained on the last step—and still Justice towered over her. She smiled up at him. “That was my stipulation. That you be able to blend, I mean. I didn’t want a bodyguard to be super conspicuous. But seeing you now, I can’t imagine you blending in too easily.”

He crooked a brow. “Why not?”

“You’re rather large to blend.”

“Depends on where we go, right?” He took her elbow and very unnecessarily helped her down the last step. “Bar, club, steakhouse—no one will pay much attention to me. In this house?” He looked around as if a little put off by the grandeur. “Or a fancy party?” He rasped a big hand over his beard stubble. “I can shave, spiff up a little and force myself into a suit, but that still might not do the trick.”

Fallon couldn’t help but laugh; she found this bodyguard completely delightful. “Well, we’re lucky that there aren’t any parties scheduled.”

“Fallon,” her mother said, her expression curious and expectant. “Are you absolutely certain—”

“Yes and yes,” Fallon replied with enthusiasm, hoping to stem their concerns. Spinning around, she embraced her mother in a tight hug. “I’m very certain, Mother.” Next, she embraced her father. “Please don’t worry, Dad. It’s absolutely fine. I promise you.”

“What time will you be home?”

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, Dad. I’m twenty-four, so I might just stay out all night.”

Appalled, her father again looked at the man. Her mother lifted her brows.

Wincing inwardly, Fallon glanced back and said, “That is, unless you have a—”

“I’m yours for the night. Keep me as late as you want.”

Everything he said sounded somehow more personal, even intimate. Or maybe that was just her male-deprived brain doing some wishful thinking.

Her smile quavered, but this was too important to turn chicken now. “Perfect. Then if you’re ready?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Was born ready.” He swept a hand toward the door in a ridiculously gallant gesture. “Ladies first.”

Charmed, Fallon hitched her purse strap over her shoulder and started out. Normally she’d wear a coat, too, but late May in Ohio was unseasonably mild this year, even with the frequent rain.

And tonight she wanted to be different. Free.

Eventually, she wanted to be a woman, whole.

* * *

AFTER A QUICK glance at Mr. Wade, who remained stiff and horrified by the sight of him, and Mrs. Wade, who looked like she was waiting for him to perform tricks, Justice went out and pulled the door closed behind him. Whew. Glad to have some fresh air, he inhaled deeply and rolled his neck to relieve the vibrating tension.

The freaking mansion had intimidated him. Who the hell needed a house that big? A few times there, he’d thought for sure his voice would echo back at him.

The obvious wealth had intimidated him, too. The ornate staircase alone probably cost more than what he got paid in a year. The rock on Mrs. Wade’s finger had all but blinded him. He’d been half-afraid to move for fear he’d bump into some pricey shit and break it.

As if all that weren’t enough, Fallon Wade’s father had tried—unsuccessfully—to cow him. The man had a cold stare that probably made lackeys buckle. But behind that act, Justice had seen the real concern.

The man loved his daughter, spoiled as she might be.

Thinking of her...little Fallon was quite the surprise. He’d expected a princess, a snooty brat used to snapping her fingers and having her every wish granted. Instead, he’d looked up that sprawling staircase and found a curious mouse peeking through the rails... Then he’d caught her wicked grin and bursting enthusiasm and knew that looks were deceiving.

He watched now as Fallon Wade practically danced down the wide tiled steps to the circular drive where he’d parked. The printed scarf draping her neck blew out to the sides from an increasing wind.

Brown hair, parted on the side with wispy bangs over her forehead, skimmed just below her shoulders, bouncing with her every step. That hair looked silky enough to be liquid.

When he’d first seen her, he’d noticed the smooth, flushed cheeks, a small straight nose and rounded chin... Really nice mouth, too.

But it was her eyes that got him.

For an otherwise unremarkable face, her eyes were amazing, dark like a doe’s, framed by long, thick lashes and gently arched brows.

The innocence and curiosity in her face was enough for a second look, but the body...

She wore a plain pink crewneck top tucked into a long black skirt, a darker pink cardigan sweater and that fancy scarf.

For a petite girl with slim legs and arms and a narrow waist, she still had curves. Hard to tell much about those curves in that particular outfit, but he had a feeling she’d be pretty sweet all over.

Following her down the steps to the SUV, Justice noticed she had some nice padding around back. There’d be no hiding that heart-shaped ass.

As she headed for his ride with a happy, brisk walk, her black skirt hugged her hips but swished around her knees.

Her face looked young, her body looked ripe and she behaved like a puppy just let off the leash.

Her parents treated her like she was ten instead of twenty-four. Overprotective much? Hell, it had smothered him to see the way they tried to harness her.

Somehow, Justice thought, he had to get a handle on the situation. He’d expected this to be an easy assignment, but so far, nothing added up.

In an effort to understand, Justice drew out his phone and pulled up the internet.

He was aware of Fallon Wade watching him before she asked, “Do you need privacy for your call?”

So even now she wouldn’t complain about his lack of deference? He should be focusing solely on her, but first... “I’m just looking up a word.”

She tipped her head. “What word?”

“Avuncular.”

The wind carried her laugh until it surrounded him.

Smiling, Justice asked, “You think that’s funny?”

Mirth danced in her dark eyes. “And a little embarrassing.”

“Because I don’t know the word?” It finally popped up on the screen.

“No, of course not.” She looked wrecked by his conclusion. “I was in no way judging you.”

That only made his smile widen. He didn’t come off as the most professional person and he knew it. “Then why?”

She faced him from a good distance away. “Because my father felt the silly warning was necessary.”

Avuncular: of or pertaining to an uncle, especially in kindness and manner. “Ah.” Now he got it. “So your dad was warning me against making any moves?”

“It wasn’t personal. Dad feels compelled to make similar warnings to everyone, even though it’s never been an issue.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d hardly need to hire you if I had a string of big, strong guys taking me out, right?”

“Oh, I dunno.” By the minute, she somehow got sexier. Justice didn’t understand it, but maybe it was that quirky smile or those subtle curves she tried to downplay. She definitely didn’t seem spoiled, and in fact was downright modest. “I think if you wanted it, you’d have plenty of guys hoping for a shot.”

Her brows went up. “A shot?”

Justice gave her a long, heated look. “You know my meaning.”

Her dark eyes widened. “Oh.” Surprise, then embarrassment, had her ducking her face.

Damn it, why the hell was he flirting with her? “Sorry. I shouldn’t have...” He shook his head. “Ignore me.”

Appearing both amused and confused by his attitude, she started to speak, and instead lifted her arms out to her sides and turned her face up to the sky. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Dark clouds rolled over one another and humidity hung thick in the air. He liked storms.

They made him horny.

Though this time, he wasn’t sure if it was the storm or the girl. “Sure.” Lengthening his stride, more than ready to get the show on the road, Justice opened the door to the backseat of the SUV. “You want to tell me where we’re going?”

“You mentioned a bar.” She bit her lip. A nice full lip, he couldn’t help but notice. “Is there one you’d recommend?”

Justice couldn’t figure her out. Was she a practiced flirt? Too naive to know how she affected him? For sure, she made him forget himself. He kept focusing on her mouth—plump lips and that shiny gloss... She waited for an answer, but he’d forgotten the topic. “One what?”

“A bar?” She grinned, putting dimples into those pink cheeks. “I’ve never been before.”

Justice took a step back. Naive then, and damn it, since when was that a turn-on? “You’ve never been to a bar?”

“No.” She leaned closer in a conspiratorial way, her face turned up to his, her tone teasing. “Is it fun?”

Could be, depending on her idea of fun. But if she’d never been before, why pick now, tonight, with him of all people?

Suspicion got the better of him. “What are you hoping to do at this bar?”

“Drink a little.” Her nose wrinkled again. “That’d be a first, too.”

Justice folded his arms over his chest. “You’ve never had a drink?”

“Wine a few times at galas, but that was long ago.” Though she still smiled, shadows suddenly saddened her expression.

Justice had the awful urge to comfort her. He resisted with stoic effort. “How can it have been long ago when you’re so young?”

“Twenty-four isn’t that young, and if you want me to be specific, I’ll say that I haven’t had wine since the night I turned nineteen. Besides, it isn’t wine I want to try.” The impish grin returned. “I want a beer.”

“Beer?” She made beer sound scandalous. Every girl he knew occasionally had a beer, even if she didn’t particularly like it.

“Yes.”

Justice rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, well, you can do that at every bar everywhere.”

She laughed. “Let’s see. I’d also like to dance. Maybe chat with new people. And I want to have fun.”

How the hell did she figure to do any of that when her daddy didn’t want anyone within spitting distance of her? A raindrop fell, then a few more...and Justice knew the skies would open up soon. He took her arm and tried to urge her into the backseat of the SUV.

She resisted. “I’ll ride up front.”

Taken by surprise, he did his parrot act and repeated, “Up front?” Clients never rode up front. Definitely not young female clients.

She stared at him with those big soul-sucking eyes. “Unless that’s a problem for you.”

The only problem, so far, was his reaction to her. But hell, as the client, she got to call the shots, so... “Suit yourself.” He switched direction, closing the back door and opening the front.

The raindrops began pelting the ground in earnest, so she hurriedly seated herself.

Jogging around the hood, Justice narrowly avoided the sudden deluge. He checked that Fallon had on her seat belt, then, instead of driving, he returned to her earlier question. “There are a bunch of bars in the area. I don’t know much about them, though.”

“Really? I thought most guys...that is...” Her cheeks pinked. “You don’t drink?”

“Sure. But usually I head back to Warfield to Rowdy’s when I want to drink and relax with friends.”

“Rowdy’s?”

“A bar that’s gotten popular with fighters.”

“Fighters who are your friends?” she asked with interest.

He eyed her warily. “Yeah.”

“I’d love to go there sometime.”

A hint? Was she another groupie hoping to hook up with a fighter? God knew they came from all age ranges, backgrounds and interests. “It’s a no-go for tonight.” Hopefully Ms. Fancy-pants wouldn’t insist. “I’d need to ensure first that things aren’t too chaotic before I take you there. The bar has some rambunctious parties.”

She sighed. “Yes, I suppose tonight we should stick closer to home.”

“As to that, I should have been told your plans in advance so I could scope out any place you wanted to go.”

Brows coming together, she said, “I’ve never heard that rule.”

She sounded a bit stiff, and Justice bit back his smile. “Yeah, well, now you know.”

The frown intensified. “Going forward, I’ll plan accordingly.”

“Good.” Rain made the windows opaque and insulated them from everything outside the car. He could practically hear his own heartbeat, could definitely hear her soft breathing. The sense of intimacy made him uneasy. “So what are we doing now?”

“I’ll settle for a more local bar. Anyway, it’s probably a good idea that we don’t travel too far, just in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case we don’t suit.” She gave him a quick, firm glance. “If all goes well tonight, well then, there’s a lot more I’d like to schedule.”

He’d already been told that when he took the assignment, but still he repeated, “More?”

She ducked her face and pressed her hands over her skirt, smoothing an imaginary crease. “More...like every night? Did no one tell you this could be a month-long detail?”

“Yeah, I knew it.” Why was she being so shy now? “I was told we’d be getting acquainted, but I thought most of that would be at your house with your mom and dad.”

She laughed. “Nooo.”

Yeah, it’d probably be impossible with those two hawks overhead. “So here’s how it usually works. You tell me where you want to go, I find the best route to get there, then scope out the place in advance to ensure I know the different exits, if it’s secure, stuff like that.”

She flapped a hand. “That’s not necessary. Honest. I mean, I suppose that makes sense for most people who need protection. But overall, my parents just wanted to ensure I could explore safely. There will be plenty of other people at the bar, right? Lots of people who visit daily?”

“Sure.” Long as he didn’t take her to a dive, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Why don’t you pick one, and we’ll give it a shot?” She grinned. “What could go wrong?”

Justice didn’t bother answering. If the alarm bells going off in his head were any indication, he figured they’d both find out soon enough.

* * *

FALLON REJECTED JUSTICE’S first two choices. One was too swanky for the way she’d dressed, and the other looked more like a club. She wanted a regular, everyday bar with everyday people and, finally, on his third try, she agreed with his choice.

A multitude of fluorescent signs filled the big front window of The Broken Pony. People loitered outside, some openly making out, others smoking, groups talking. The parking lot across the street nearly overflowed.

Because it was still pouring, Fallon said, “Drop me off at the door, please.” The thought of walking in there alone made her breathless with nerves, but otherwise she’d be soaked, so—

“No can do,” Justice said. “I promised to stick like glue, remember?” He swung the SUV into the lot, drove up one row then down another until he found an empty space a good distance from the bar.

“I’ll get wet.”

He paused in the process of turning off the car, blew out a long breath, then said evenly, “I’ve got an umbrella.”

He reached around to the backseat, coming very close to her as he did so.

And oh, God, he smelled good. Not like aftershave, just like...man. Fallon tried to take a deep breath without being too obvious.

He gave her a look as he settled back, now with a black umbrella. “You okay?”

She nodded fast. “Yes.”

Without looking convinced, he said, “Stay put. I’ll come around.”

After pocketing the keys, he opened the door, popped up the umbrella and circled the hood to her side of the car.

By necessity, she had to step out very near him to stay shielded under the umbrella. He didn’t bother trying to protect himself from the storm.

“Come under with me,” she insisted.

He hesitated.

“Please, Justice? I’ll feel terrible otherwise.”

Reluctantly, he moved up against her back, his arm around her as he tilted the umbrella to block the worst of the rain blowing toward them. “C’mon.”

With every step, their bodies touched. She could smell him again, a rich masculine musk, and better than that, she felt his incredible heat.

Why, even if the bar turned out to be a bust, this alone was a wonderful new experience.

He kept her sheltered from the storm until they’d stepped into the bar, then he turned her so her back was against a wall and he stood in front. While closing the umbrella, he visually scoured the room.