Personal Protector Page 5

  “I’ll be standing by, sir.”

  Ric nodded to Raine and ushered Piper up the steps and into the building as quickly as he could without alarming her further.

  The moment they entered the grand entry hall Ric felt immense relief. Those SSU jokers were getting braver and braver. They did not intend to back down. They just kept pushing, hoping for an opening to get close enough to assassinate one more news reporter. Ric gazed down at the woman at his side. Anger unfurled inside him. One thing was certain—they’d have to go through him first.

  And Ric had no intention of making it easy for them.

  Chapter Three

  Ric scanned the room once more, ever alert for any abrupt move or new face. He would feel a lot better when he had Piper safely back home in her apartment. It was evident that she was under twenty-four-hour surveillance by both the good guys and the bad guys.

  Agent Townsend had managed to get a partial license plate number before the unidentified car disappeared down a side street. Now, an hour later, the only thing Ric knew was that the license plate could have come from one of two vehicles from the Atlanta area. One was owned by an elderly woman who was out of town, car included, and the other had been reported stolen earlier that evening, then found abandoned only minutes ago. Whoever had stolen it and used it to tail Piper was long gone.

  Another dead end unless forensics found a usable set of prints, which was highly unlikely. SSU had proven too smart in the past for a mistake that simple, and he doubted they would suddenly grow so stupid.

  His gaze instantly sought out Piper. She had relaxed immediately, or at least pretended to, when they entered the crowded Exhibit Hall. She mingled among the elegant and elite society attendees with an unparalleled grace and confidence. She introduced Ric by name only, not mentioning that he was her cameraman, and going quickly to another subject when the required formality was out of the way. Though the women seemed inclined to take special notice of him.

  Ric had been given more private telephone numbers in the last hour than he could remember getting on his best night when he had been actually looking to pick up a woman.

  He studied a watercolor by a local artist that was currently up to a twenty-eight-hundred-dollar bid. This was Ric’s first experience with a silent auction. A register stood on an ornate stand where guests could peruse the latest bid and up the ante, if they so desired, by simply signing their name and an amount they wished to bid.

  Personally, Ric couldn’t see the attraction in this particular piece, but then, he wasn’t the artsy type. The closest thing to art he’d known growing up was the graffiti that marked the area as low-rent, possibly dangerous to anyone from the better side of town who happened to get lost there.

  A tall, slender blonde approached him and Ric shifted to attention and smiled a greeting. He was pretty sure she had arrived with the new, hotshot sheriff of Fulton County.

  Ric definitely did not want to be seen accepting anything that might even appear remotely like her number. He doubted the sheriff would be too happy about a move like that.

  “A lovely piece,” she said, flicking her gaze from the watercolor to him in a furtive move. “Have you placed your bid?” She sipped her wine and licked her lips slowly, suggestively, then leaned closer. “The artist who painted it died recently. I’m sure the bids will go much higher.” She moved closer still. “And higher.”

  “Actually,” Ric explained, angling his head so that he looked directly into her assessing eyes, “I’m not here for the art.”

  Her smile was feline, and blatantly sexual. “I was relatively certain you weren’t.” She offered her hand. “I’m Sally Carter. I do Atlanta Live on Channel 9. And they tell me that you’re Ric Martinez. I’ve been dying to get the inside scoop on Piper Ryan for ages.” Miss Carter tilted her chin upward and whispered in his ear, “I would love to interview you for my ‘Kiss and Tell’ segment. The audience would eat you up.”

  And so would you, Ric guessed. He eased back a step, putting some distance between them. So, this female barracuda wanted to get some trash on Piper.

  She plucked a card from her dainty purse. “Give me a call when you have some free time, Mr. Martinez.” She gave him a thorough once-over and then a smile of approval. “I’d love some one-on-one.”

  Before Ric could recite his polite, practiced response, she turned and drifted toward the other side of the room, ensuring that she gave him the full treatment as she walked away. He shook his head and tucked the card into his inside jacket pocket along with the rest.

  “What did she say to you?”

  The sharp demand jerked Ric’s attention to his left. Piper stood, seething, only a few feet away. Could that be jealousy blazing in those gorgeous blue eyes?

  It sure looked like it to him.

  Taking slow, calculated steps, Ric moved in on her. Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly and schooled her expression. “She said she wanted to have sex with me,” he offered candidly.

  Wide-eyed, Piper demanded, “She didn’t?”

  He shrugged noncommittally, a smile itching to spread across his lips. “But first she wanted to know if I’d had sex with you and what it was like.”

  Piper’s mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut, then exhaled the outrage, which had just synapsed into word form, “That bi—”

  He held up a hand to halt her outburst of indignation. “Don’t worry, I set her straight.” He leaned down so that he could whisper his next words. “I told her we hadn’t had sex…yet.”

  The grin overtook his lips at the startled expression on Piper’s lovely face. Realization quickly dawned in her eyes, and her gaze narrowed accordingly. “You did no such thing.”

  “No.” He tasted the wine he’d been nursing all evening. His fingers curled around the stem, his thumb smoothed over the warm glass. How would it feel, he suddenly wondered, to caress that silky smooth cheek of hers? His gaze drifted down to Piper’s mouth then quickly darted back to her eyes. “I didn’t tell her that,” he admitted, trying his level best not to allow what he was thinking to filter into his tone, “but she did give me her card and suggest we share some ‘one-on-one’ time in the near future.”

  “That woman has been out to get me for the past year,” Piper grumbled, surveying the crowd for the transgressor in question. “She loves to smear images and ruin reputations. You stay away from her, Martinez. She’s not a nice person.”

  “Don’t worry, querida,” he soothed. “I put her card with all the rest. I have no intention of calling any of them.”

  “All the rest?” Piper looked properly mortified. “You mean all these women I’ve seen chatting with you have been giving you their numbers?”

  “Not all.” It amused him that she’d noticed other women talking to him. Or, he admitted reluctantly, maybe it pleased him. “But most.”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed a sound of impatience. “I knew it. I told Dave this wouldn’t work.” She drained her glass and thrust it at Ric. “And I was right. Women have been trying to pick you up all night. Excuse me,” she snapped, then pivoted and stormed away.

  Ric quickly deposited their glasses on the tray of a passing waiter and followed.

  Piper stamped down a dimly lit, deserted corridor and disappeared into the first door on the left. Ric paused in front of the closing door, noting Ladies emblazoned on the wood plaque. He stepped to one side to wait. She would come out eventually. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. And then he would demand that she explain herself. His smile widened to a grin. He was going to enjoy this.

  In thinking back to her incensed outrage, he supposed that Piper’s tantrum had more to do with propriety and appearances than anything else. It didn’t look proper for her date, escort or whatever, to accept the cards of any of the other female guests in attendance. But, he thought with another slow grin, he could pretend that it was more than that. He could pretend that Miss Perfect, Proper Piper Ryan saw him as a man, rather th
an as simply “her co-worker.”

  Ric immediately dismissed that line of thinking. This was an assignment, nothing else. And Piper was the principal. He had to remember that, no matter how much he wanted to forget it for just a little while.

  He was her personal protector.

  It was his job to keep her safe.

  And he would do that above all else.

  PIPER TOOK ANOTHER deep breath and stared at her reflection in the gilt-framed mirror. She was a complete idiot. How could she be jealous of Martinez?

  Sure, he looked amazing in that tux. The fact of the matter was that he looked pretty damned amazing naked, too. But she wasn’t supposed to notice that. She had purposely avoided overly handsome men in the past. They were trouble. That’s what her mother said, and Piper herself knew it to be true. Her father had been extraordinarily handsome. And every friend she’d ever had had a story to tell about how some good-looking guy had done her wrong.

  Piper squared her shoulders and adopted a “no prisoners” expression. She would not be another conquest in Martinez’s memoirs. So what if he was cute and sexy…as well as nice and funny? Her fierce expression wilted. The people at Hope Place during today’s interview had loved him. He’d fit right in, connected with them on a level Piper hadn’t been able to. And then tonight, when she was in the very element her mother had trained her to fit into, he was at home there, as well. Chatting knowledgeably and intelligently. Smiling that killer smile that made all the ladies take notice. And taking their cards, yet!

  Piper squeezed her eyes shut and wished for Jones. She didn’t like it when she felt confused, and Ric Martinez confused her. Somehow she had to block his effect on her. Dismiss his overpowering persona. One week and six days. That’s all she had left. She could ignore him for that long, couldn’t she? Jones would be back and so would Mr. Rizzoli. And then her life could go back to normal. All she had to do was get her emotions back under control.

  Still holding her eyes closed tightly, she counted to ten. She had to go back out there and face Martinez…and all the rest.

  “Hello, Piper,” a distinctly male voice whispered.

  An arm instantly closed around her neck. Piper’s eyes snapped open. The lights were out. The room was pitch-black.

  Fingers of steel closed over her mouth before she could scream. “No screaming,” the voice told her.

  Piper struggled to identify the voice. Had she heard this man’s voice in the crowd tonight? Was he someone she knew? Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Fear ignited inside her. No. She didn’t know him. He was not a friend or acquaintance.

  SSU had sent this man. She was going to die now. It was her turn, she realized. The image of the three dead reporters flashed in vivid Technicolor before her eyes. She would be the fourth victim. She should have listened to her uncle.

  “Someone is going to die tonight, but it isn’t you,” the voice assured her as if he’d just read her mind. “You still have time, Piper. Time to promote our cause and undo some of the harm your kind have done.”

  Her fingers clamped instinctively around the arm tightening on her throat. An agonized moan echoed in the darkness. The sound came from her. Tears spilled past her lashes. She never cried. Not even when her uncle had told her that her father was dead. She hadn’t cried even once. The salty droplets slid down her cheeks now only to stall on the fingers held tightly over her lips. She didn’t want to die.

  “Every move we make is deliberate. Those protecting you believe they are foiling our attempts, but, as you can clearly see—well, maybe see is not the right word,” he mused sardonically. “As you can feel—” his arm tightened to the point of cutting off her breath “—you are quite vulnerable to us. We could kill you, just as we have the other three, at any moment. Now if we so desired.”

  His arm loosened. Air surged into her burning lungs. She needed to gasp…to cough, but his hand was still on her mouth holding her silent and right where he wanted her.

  He hummed a note of sympathy in her ear. “It’s such a relief to be able to breathe, isn’t it? Every day we take that simple, yet life-giving ability for granted.” He jerked her head back hard against his shoulder. “Know this, Piper Ryan, you will die when the time is right.” He laughed softly, menacingly. “No one can protect you from us. No one can save you. No one.”

  Ice-cold dread strummed through her veins. The urge to scream, to fight, was overwhelming. Before she could act on the impulse, his fingers pressed into her throat, against her carotid artery. She needed to get away! All thought ceased as she slumped against him.

  RIC GLANCED at his watch once more. Seven full minutes had passed since Piper disappeared behind that door. Seven minutes too long. And what about the other woman? The blonde who’d walked in maybe five minutes ago? He straightened and turned back to the door technically off-limits to the male species.

  He rapped firmly against it. “Piper, are you all right in there?” If she was chatting with the other woman, she would just have to be embarrassed. He had to know that she was safe. He didn’t really put a lot of stock in propriety anyway. He never had.

  No answer.

  Frowning, he considered his options. Knock again or open the door and find out for himself. His palm flattened on the door just as something at the edge of his vision snagged his attention. The crack under the door was dark. His frown deepened as his pulse kicked into overdrive. That meant the room beyond was dark.

  Damn.

  Withdrawing the weapon tucked into the back of his waistband, Ric leaned against the door but met firm resistance. It was locked. Adrenaline slid through his veins. He swore under his breath and readied himself to force the door open. He slammed hard against it once, twice, then pushed into the darkness.

  The room was thick with silence. He felt for the switch on the wall with his left hand and with one flick of his thumb filled the room with light. He blinked as his gaze adjusted to the brightness.

  A sitting area. It was empty. Listening intently, he eased across the small room and listened for several seconds. Nothing. Holding his weapon with both hands, he swung into the tiled area where the fancy stalls and elegant sinks lined both sides of the walls.

  Piper lay on the floor.

  Fear surged into his throat. Keeping an eye out for any movement, he knelt beside her just as she tried to push up into a sitting position. She made a sound, half sob, half whimper, as he closed his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded, surveying her for damage. Her hair was mussed, but that appeared to be the extent of the external damage.

  “What happened?” he asked when she didn’t answer quickly enough to suit him. Where the hell was the blonde? Was she the one who did this? And where the hell did she go? Anger rushed through his veins. Dammit, he should have checked the place out before she came in here. But she hadn’t given him the chance. Could he have kept the blonde out without causing a scene?

  “He…he—” Piper touched her throat “—did something to my neck and I blacked out.” Her eyes rounded with remembered fear. “Did you see him?” She whipped her head from side to side. “Where is he?” Before Ric could stop her, she tried to scramble up.

  “You’re sure it was a he?” As he helped Piper to her feet, Ric considered whether the blonde could have been a man in disguise. He didn’t see how, but…

  “It was a man,” Piper insisted, her voice sounded raspy. “He was wearing a wool mask, like a ski mask. I felt the roughness of it against my cheek.” Now that she was vertical again, and despite the visible shaking, anger was quickly replacing the fear in her eyes.

  “Don’t move,” Ric instructed. No one came back out of the door, not even the blonde. And, unless she was dead inside one of the stalls—he quickly scanned the bottom of each and decided that wasn’t likely—she was in on it. Ric pushed each door inward just to be certain, ready to fire if anyone moved.

  The stalls were empty.

  “He was here,” Piper in
sisted. “I’m telling you he turned out the light and tried to choke me to death. I didn’t imagine it.”

  “I didn’t think you did.” He glanced at her, still concerned that maybe she was hurt and he just didn’t know it yet. “You didn’t hear a woman?” Ric scanned the ceiling, his gaze jerking back to the corner above the row of fancy basins. One of the acoustic tiles was angled slightly, not resting in the frame, as it should.

  “What woman?”

  Ignoring her question, he reached into his pocket and removed his cell phone. Without taking his eyes off the ceiling he punched the speed dial number for Townsend. “We’re in the ladies’ room in the east corridor.” Ric didn’t wait for the agent’s response.

  “Where the hell did you get that gun?” Piper demanded, only now noticing the weapon in his hand.

  “De donde vengo no se toman chansas.” He’d definitely learned not to take chances where he’d grown up.

  Piper looked at him for a long moment before she responded. Ric couldn’t quite read what he saw in her eyes. “Yo comprendo eso,” she finally said, her words too knowing.

  Her response surprised him. I can understand that. How could she know that he’d had to learn to protect himself as a kid? That he hadn’t been able to take chances and hope to survive. The smart ones like him and his brother learned early on to cover themselves.

  “Get against that wall over there,” he ordered, breaking the suddenly awkward moment and refocusing his attention. He indicated the other side of the room. “Townsend is on his way.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked as she moved swiftly to obey his instructions.

  Ric didn’t take the time to analyze the foreign concept that she had actually done what he’d told her without arguing. He climbed onto the counter and pushed the large, rectangular tile to the side. He shook his head at what he saw. A small hoist attached to an overhead steel beam. The perp was long gone, Ric was certain.

  “Is that how he got in?”