“Phoebe, you’re late,” Ian said in a pitch black voice.
The girl, who couldn’t be much past twenty-four, blanched. “I’ll just take the stairs, Mr. Taggart.”
She ran as fast as her kitten heels could carry her.
“That was mean. Are you having fun scaring little girls now?”
He took her by the elbow and started hauling her out. “They seem to be the only ones I can scare anymore. I’ll be shocked if she makes it up all fifteen flights. Someone’s going to have to go get her. Why do I pick up fucking strays? At least you’re one I can get rid of. Security!”
Two men immediately stepped up. They were dressed in almost military looking uniforms. “Mr. Taggart?”
He pointed a finger her way. “Don’t let this woman back in the building.”
She couldn’t allow that to happen. “I will sue the holy fuck out of everyone here. He’s my husband. I own half of the fifteenth floor.”
Ian’s jaw squared, his eyes hardening. “We’re not married.”
“Yes, we are and I have the documents to prove it.”
Ian smirked. “And I have your death certificate. It’s all framed and everything.”
She pulled out her ace. “You’re the only one who has it.”
He stopped. “You didn’t.”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave that hanging out there. I’m sure there are some files with MI6 and the Agency, but good luck getting those. I think you’ll find they’re classified.” Actually Chelsea had recently erased all the pertinent info, but she let Ian believe what he wanted to. The minute she’d known the Florida operation was going to be a success, she’d put her plan into motion. “The marriage certificate is back in place as of yesterday. According to all public records, we’ve been living together happily for almost six years now.” She smiled at the security guards. “We’re trying to have a baby. The doctors told him he has sluggish sperm. It’s made him really cranky.”
He took a step toward her, his voice going low. “Sweetheart, I am going to settle in on that bench right over there and I’ll pull up that little skirt you’re wearing, pull down your underwear, and spank you until you scream and all in front of these very nice, very vanilla people. Do you want that?”
She shook her head. “I’m not wearing any underwear, Ian. You told me I wasn’t allowed to. It’s made packing so much easier.”
He gripped her wrist and started hauling her out of the building.
He seemed to be under some kind of impression that she had dignity to protect or something. Dignity didn’t mean crap to her. She planted her feet. Unfortunately, the smooth marble surface helped her to slide right along.
“Out you go, Charlie. If I see you here again, I’ll call the cops. And you should understand my first call when I get back upstairs is going to be to my lawyer. If we’re still married, honey, we’re getting a divorce.”
“I don’t want a divorce, Ian.”
“I don’t care what you want.” He used one broad shoulder to open the glass doors, letting in a blast of pure Texas heat.
Charlie stumbled a little as her feet went from marble to concrete. Ian cursed and caught her before her ass found the ground. “Ian, please. Let’s talk about this. I can prove I’m not working for Eli Nelson.”
He made sure she was steady on her feet before moving away again. “No, you can’t.”
“There has to be something.” She wasn’t sure he would believe her if God came down and whacked him over his very masculine forehead with the truth. Her righteously paranoid husband would just decide that the heavenly father was a double agent sent to kill him. “Ian, you have to trust your instincts. Look at the data in front of you. Read what I’ve sent you. Look at it dispassionately and then form a logical conclusion. You’re the smartest man I’ve ever met.”
“Follow my instincts? I did that once. I shoved all the facts aside and followed my instincts. That’s how I lost my job and I damn near lost my life. You taught me that lesson, Charlie. Good-bye.”
He started to turn away, and Charlie felt her heart squeeze.
He stared for a moment, his eyes on the door, and then she saw it. A single glint off the metal handle.
“Get the fuck down!” Ian yelled, his body moving with predatory grace.
He hit her with the impact of a locomotive, and she found herself tackled and thrown to the ground just as the bullets started flying.
Chapter Four
Ian gritted his teeth hard as his shoulder hit the concrete. He rolled to the left, tucking Charlie close to his body as he tried to maneuver them to the trees that lined the walkway.
Panic was spreading. The minute the shot rang out, there were screams and shouts, and the people who had been milling around in front of the building had scattered.
He wasn’t carrying. What the hell had he been thinking? Charlie had his head in a mess.
“Ian, are you all right?” At least she was calm. Most women Ian knew would be screaming by now. They would be fighting him. But Charlie had completely relaxed in his arms, making it easy for him to roll her out of harm’s way. She’d trusted him to take care of her.
“I’m not hit if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Boss?” Jacob Dean was suddenly at his side, and he hadn’t forgotten his firearm.
“I thought I told you to stay upstairs.” Ian brought his head up. There was a row of oleanders to his left. They were roughly four feet tall and thick. They would suit his purposes nicely. “Get us some cover. He’s probably done, but I can’t take the chance.”
Because the minute he’d seen the glint of a scope reflecting off the window, he’d had a vision of Charlie lying in a pool of her own blood. Was this just his fate? To always see her like that?
Jake moved, his gun at the ready. He placed himself in danger so Ian didn’t have to put Charlie there. “I think he’s done, too, boss. The cops are already on their way. Move, now.”
Ian was up on his feet, but he kept his head down and covered Charlie as he lifted her up. Three long strides and they were safely behind the bushes. Trees were at their backs. If the fucker wanted to take a shot now, he would have to get damn lucky.
“Adam’s already pulling the security tapes. The cops will want them because they’re going to try to identify who the intended victim is. Standard procedure. I figured we should keep Mrs. Taggart’s face out of the papers since she’s probably got a couple of agencies looking for her.”