Bulletproof Hearts

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Shaun revised his thoughts about her similarity to the china doll. She was marble. Cool and unmovable. But was she unbreakable? Time would tell.

She needed more time or as much as he could spare before he’d know the answer to that. Donner was usually smoother and Shaun wasn’t sure if there was any recovery for his boss practically admitting they’d broken into her brother’s condo. Giving Abigail space was the first step, and being as honest as he could be. He felt the now familiar stab of conscience. So…telling the truth would be a stretch for him. “Right. I can understand why you want me out—”

“You don’t understand a damn thing, Shaun Logan. If you did you wouldn’t have fed me that crappy story at the cemetery about knowing Jason and admiring his work. Earlier you said you had met him. Did you really? Had you ever even seen him before the viewing today in that casket?”

Shaun nodded. “Yes, I met him at a corporate function last month. And I rode in an elevator with him two weeks ago.”

She stared at him and a crack appeared in her marble facade as a lone tear streaked down her cheek. She brushed the moisture away.

“Are you going to find who killed him?”

“I’m going to try, but my priority is to keep you safe.”

“Okay. You’re still not getting near his papers because I don’t give a rip about Zip Tech’s problems, and I don’t want you anywhere near me. But thank you for looking into his death. Now, I want you out of here.”

“I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”

“I’m a big girl—I’ll be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow as she stood. Yes, he had to agree, Abigail was very fine indeed. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to walk to the door or get into a tussling match with her. And while that might be fun under other circumstances, now was definitely not the time. He wasn’t going to point out that there were two rooms here in the suite.

He’d just go downstairs and get the room across the hall from her if it was available and sit with his door open. And if it wasn’t available, he’d set himself up outside the suite as her personal bodyguard. She’d never know he was there. He doubted she planned to go anywhere tonight.

At the door she surprised him with another question. “Donner said this is what you do. What did he mean? What do you really do for Zip Tech?”

He’d never felt queasy explaining his job, but under her penetrating stare, he did. He knew he had to tell her the truth. It was the first test for him here. But how? Hard and fast like ripping off a Band-Aid or with finesse?

He took a guess along with a deep breath and gave it to her straight. Finesse would be wasted, anyway. There wasn’t really a polite way to describe what he did. “I’m a fixer.”

“Pardon me?”

“I fix problems. You know. Company vice president’s son gets a DUI, I help keep him out of jail and make sure it doesn’t get in the papers. An executive’s mistress threatens to tell the Mrs. about their affair, I pay the woman off. I keep Donner, his company executives and their families looking happy and prosperous for all the world to see and examine.”

Shaun trusted Donner and up until this morning he’d always done the job without a qualm of conscience but with this woman, he was uncomfortable. It was a unique and unpleasant experience. He had no idea where those feelings were coming from, he just knew he didn’t like them. She studied his eyes, seemingly not nearly as put off by his job description as he had expected her to be.

“So now you get to try and fix me?” she asked, challenging him with her open gaze, all but inviting him to fight back.

For the first time today he allowed himself to really look at her, not just sneaking glances when she wasn’t aware of him. It was different from earlier when she’d asked him about his sexual orientation. She’d practically been begging him to look at her then. So of course he hadn’t.

But now, he started at her feet and raked his eyes up her body, deliberately lingering at her hips and chest.

Her cheeks were flaming when he finally reached her face. He knew he’d been baited and it was profoundly unprofessional but he couldn’t regret what he’d permitted himself to do, particularly as it wouldn’t be happening again.

Still, he had to swallow before he spoke. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with you, Abigail. Not that I can see.”

Chapter Five

She glared at him and shook her head. Oh, he was a “fixer” all right. Good thing she’d had a big brother who’d taught her a thing or two about men. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she fought to stifle a sniff. No way would she cry in front of this man.

“I would imagine you are quite good at your job, Shaun Logan. But don’t think you’re going to charm yourself into my brother’s condo or laptop that easily.” She shooed him out the door.

The expression on his face would have been comical if she hadn’t been hurting so badly. Suddenly she was spoiling for a fight. One part of her knew she was putting off the inevitable—being alone with her dismal thoughts and overwhelming sorrow. Hearing about Jason’s work, the importance of what he’d been doing, just drove home the heartache of his death.

Her brother hadn’t told her about the government contract, but she’d known he was hoping for something like this kind of opportunity when he took the job. He wouldn’t have worked his brains out without the hope of a fantastic payday or substantial job security. Zip Technologies had been his life for three years but everything that Shaun was saying rang true.

If Zip Tech failed because of something Jason had left undone, even inadvertently, it would be another tragedy to compound his death. But she couldn’t let go of her anger at the disrespect Donner had shown to Jason’s memory by searching his condo. She wasn’t sure she could ever trust him after that. Could she trust Shaun? She remembered the way he’d reacted when the shots had been fired, protecting her with his body. Was it wrong to want to trust the safety he’d provided?

With that in mind she dove into questioning Shaun as he stood in the hall. “Have you always worked for Michael Donner?” she asked.

“No.”

“What did you do before?”

“Same type of work,” he responded.

“And do you really think I have a role in this mess? I barely even knew about Zip-Net before today.”

He pinned her with those unusual eyes of his and she had the uncomfortable feeling she was being sized up even though she was the one asking all the questions. “Depends on you,” was his response.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

He moved toward the doorway and she fought against taking a step back into the suite, angry at herself and at him that she felt the need to retreat.

“Like Donner said, I believe you have information. Something you may not know you have from your brother. I need your cooperation to figure out what that is.”

“But I don’t have any information.”

“I think you may have access to the password to his computer or the location of the upgrade file and not realize it.”

She shook her head no but at the same time thought of last summer and using Jason’s laptop. She did have an idea about the password but she wasn’t sure she wanted to help and didn’t know how to respond without outright lying. She’d known that she could assist earlier when Donner had spoken of needing the password, but she’d been so incensed about his having gone into Jason’s home without permission she hadn’t considered it.

She didn’t want to consider it now.

So she did the only thing she could. She closed the door.

Or tried to. Shaun slid his foot neatly inside the door frame to stop her.

Angry, stalling and studying him at the same time, she was puzzling out what to say when the day completely crashed in on her—the funeral, the asthma attack, the shooting, the wild ride to the hotel and the awful revelation that Jason had been murdered. Plus she was starving on top of everything else—her body’s defense mechanism when stress took over.

Food. She wanted it. Now. Almost as badly as she wanted him gone.

“May I take you to dinner?” he asked.

“I can’t do this anymore, Shaun. I can’t think about this situation right now. Please move your foot.” Her stomach growled, betraying her and punctuating the request.

She tried to close the door again and only meant to glance at him a final time because now she was exhausted on top of being irritated. But those uniquely colored eyes bored into hers, more emerald than blue-green now, and surprisingly her irritation turned to frank interest as her resistance melted like a snowball on a hot sidewalk.

“I’m ordering room service,” she declared, more to convince herself than him.

Forcefully breaking eye contact, she gave in to the toll of the day’s events. She was totally out of emotional and physical energy to spend on this…on him. She didn’t shut the door. She just let go of the handle and walked back to the sofa.

He followed her inside the suite. “Why don’t you rest while I make arrangements for dinner?” he offered.

“If I go to sleep now I won’t wake up for a month. I’d rather eat first.”

“Of course.” He nodded and picked up the room service menu from the coffee table. “What would you prefer?” His question, spoken in that lovely rhythmic cadence hung in the air as thunder rumbled outside. Rain pummeled the window and suddenly everything here felt too intimate, too close. Abby didn’t want to be alone in a room with this man who set her libido to buzzing simply by talking and looking at her. In her diminished state of resistance that could be very bad.

“I think I’d rather go to the restaurant downstairs. Can we do that?”

“Whatever you’d like.”

Whatever she’d like was a loaded phrase and one she wasn’t going to dwell on. What she’d like was this man’s hands on her body, a huge glass of Merlot, ten hours of sleep and most of all…Jason. Laughing, joking, taking her shopping. Alive.

But none of that was going to happen. Her brother was buried in a grave less than ten miles from where she stood. He was never coming back. The people who killed him might be coming for her next, and she had no idea who to trust, who to believe. As comforting as oblivion might be, if she had a glass of wine right now on an empty stomach, she’d fall asleep on the spot or do something incredibly foolish with her new bodyguard.

No way was she going to bed with Shaun Logan. Not after everything she’d learned today. And definitely not after he’d lied to her.

“I’M FINE WITH WATER.” Abby sat across from Shaun in an opulent dining room overlooking the Capitol and watching it rain. She was desperately trying not to get comfortable with him. With that Irish charm, he was pressing a glass of wine on her—despite her objections. And it was only four in the afternoon.

“You just buried your brother and someone tried to shoot you. Have a drink, Abigail.”

And whose fault was Jason’s death? Shaun’s? Donner’s? Some mysterious competitor’s? A terrorist trying to derail DHS? How could she know? That initial question more than anything had her sipping the Merlot more quickly than was prudent as Shaun drank iced tea. She was even ordering another glass after the salad, when she should have waited on the main course.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, putting on a display that many would have paid to see. The food arrived when she was halfway through the second glass of wine.

“What was it like growing up in Mississippi?” Shaun asked.

She shrugged, wary of his attempts to make her open up. She’d shut him down earlier when he’d brought up the possibility of going to Jason’s tonight.

She didn’t want to talk to him about her childhood. She’d spent a lot of money and time in a therapist’s office dealing with it. Lord knows after her parents’ upbringing, she’d needed the help.

“I’m not sure what to compare it to,” she finally answered. “My brother and I were very close. My parents and I weren’t. And while part of my childhood was quite wonderful…my teenage years were not.”

“Care to elaborate?”

She sighed. “My home was a difficult place to grow up in.”

She knew she should keep her mouth closed or better yet, take another bite of the luscious steak in front of her and chew till the urge to talk had passed. But she didn’t. Later she’d blame it on that second glass of Merlot.

“My parents always said we could tell them anything and they’d love us no matter what. They lied. When my brother came out of the closet, my parents disowned him. It was the spring semester of his senior year in college. I was sixteen years old. After Jason told them he was gay, they cut him off without a penny. I begged my father not to do it, but he wouldn’t listen. Jason barely scraped by that last semester, but he graduated with honors and never set foot in our house again until their funeral. I never forgave my parents for that.”