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Under Pressure
Under Pressure
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Under Pressure

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“Switch up cars?” Justice asked.

“Yeah.”

Clearly impressed by that, Justice clarified, “I’m sticking with you?”

“For now.”

That obviously pleased him. “Got it.”

“Turn up the heat a little too, will you? Cat’s chilled.”

A near-hysterical laugh bubbled up. Chilled? She was far, far beyond chilled.

If Tesh had his way, she could end up... No. She wouldn’t think about that yet. She had to believe she still had a chance.

Worried, scared and, yes, still annoyed, she looked at Leese. “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 fear,” Leese said gently. “Of me.” But first she’d trusted him, so he’d hold on to that.

Now that the heat of the car had warmed her, she gave him back his coat, opened her own and pulled off her gloves. “You seemed one way, but then another when I realized you were working for Webb.”

Despite all they needed to discuss, her understated curves and delicate bone structure drew his gaze. He’d always enjoyed shapelier women, but somehow, with Catalina, he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than her petite little body. Whatever she lacked in size she made up for with backbone—and wasn’t that just about as sexy as it could get? Leese pulled together his fractured patience. “I already explained—”

“Yeah, yeah. No one hired you directly.” She tucked back her fawn-colored hair and gave him the full force of those expressive blue eyes, currently filled with worry. “But don’t you see? Until you came along, I knew who to avoid. I knew what they looked like, how they acted.” She gave him a frown of pity. “Now I’m not the only one in trouble.”

“What exactly do you think Mr. Nicholson plans to do?”

On a dramatic groan, she dropped back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know for sure if he’s the one after me.”

Okay then, he’d work with that. “So who else would you suspect?” In every problem like this, the victims always had an idea about who was after them.

Cat shook her head.

“You think it is him?” he guessed.

“I think it could be.” She covered her face with her hands, but immediately lowered them. “And I know he can be dangerous.”

It was like pulling hen’s teeth, slow and impossible. Holding on to his temper with an effort, Leese said, “Dangerous how? What would he do that’s so bad?”

“To me?” She rubbed her temple. “It’s possible I’ll just go under lock and key. But you?” Her attention flickered over him, then she looked away. “I’m sorry.”

Leese sat back. She actually thought her father would kill him? “If all that’s true, why haven’t you gone to the police?”

For far too long she held silent, staring out the window, her shoulders angled away from him. Plotting? Thinking?

Deciding whether or not to trust him?

Wasn’t easy, but Leese waited.

Finally she answered with a question of her own. “Did any of that research you did on me include the basics on my family?”

Quite a bit, actually. “You have two brothers.”

“Yes. The younger is a half brother.”

Leese nodded his acceptance of that. “Your older brother is a CEO, the younger is still in school. Your mother passed away four years ago.”

“Before my younger brother had even graduated high school,” she whispered.

Feeling her pain, Leese covered her hand with his own. “Your father—stepfather—” he corrected himself before she could, “hasn’t remarried or even really dated.”

She snorted. “True, but not because he’s lovesick over losing her.”

“Maybe not.” Leese wasn’t sure what motivated the man, only that he was, indeed, motivated. “He’s been a jet-setter for a while, but it seems he’s thrown himself into pulling political strings, backing powerful men who, thanks to his wealth, eventually get elected and then return a lot of favors.” He released her hand. That spontaneous kiss was inappropriate enough; he had to remember that she was a client and he had no business getting personally involved.

Wide-eyed, she blinked at him. “Wow. You say what much of the media won’t. But it’s true.”

“Which part?”

She flagged a hand. “All of it, but I was talking about my stepfather. He wields a lot of power. Too much power. Sometimes it seems...he’s untouchable.”

“So what has your wealthy, powerful, untouchable stepfather done that has you running scared?”

Evasive, she picked at a frayed spot on the knee of her jeans. “My brothers, both of them, are good men.”

“I didn’t see anything in my research to tell me otherwise.”

“Bowen will be an amazing doctor one day. He’s always at the top of his class, and he’s...well, he’s brilliant. In so many ways.”

“And your older brother?” Her full-blood sibling.