Over the Top (Ranger Security Book 2) Page 3

  The fact that she’d not only lost her temper in her very first exchange with her new security guard— and then lost the verbal war—wasn’t an encouraging sign of things to come. Coupled with her irrational, wholly thrilling but definitely unwise reaction to him—the tingling had migrated to more sensitive areas below her waist—and Noelle knew she was really in trouble.

  Quite possibly, much to her surprise, even out of her depth. Had she ever been out of her depth, she wondered absently, a frown inching across her brow. Had she ever met anyone who’d put her so firmly off her game? She blinked, mildly alarmed.

  No.

  The singular difference between most intelligent people was the decisions they ultimately chose to make. Her mouth puckered with grim determination. And she wasn’t going to make one now that would put her into the Brilliant but Unforgivably Stupid category.

  She couldn’t afford to be stupid, unforgivably or otherwise, and she was quite sure that the situation she presently found herself in wasn’t going to magically rectify itself without any action on her part. So...

  It had to be done.

  With a resigned sigh and a violent twinge of irrational disappointment, Noelle picked up her cell phone, powered it on, and then dialed directory assistance. “Atlanta, Georgia,” she said. “Ranger Security.” She straightened when someone who identified himself as Juan-Carlos answered the phone. “Good afternoon, Juan-Carlos. My name is Noelle Montgomery and I’d like to request a different agent. Who would I need to talk to about that?”

  Chapter 3

  Les, Roy and Clark had all reported in, with satisfactory results, and given the all clear for him and Noelle—the name definitely suited her, he thought— to quickly make their move. He glanced at his watch and inwardly groaned.

  Which they could do if she’d simply move.

  Honestly, how long did it take to put a few things in a bag? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known when he was coming. She should have already been packed and ready, if you asked Judd, but no. No, no, no. Snow White had been too busy making homemade apple pie and giving her staunch protectors a makeover to worry about making it easier for him to keep her safe.

  It boggled the mind.

  Had he ever met anyone so... So... He wracked his brain for the right word and couldn’t find one.

  She defied description.

  Other than being extraordinarily, almost super- naturally hot, of course. And given the heat still bubbling in the bottom of his loins, it was a miracle this hideously ugly pair of polyester pants hadn’t melted through the crotch. Had he caught the scent of scorching fabric, he wouldn’t have been in the least surprised.

  Exasperated and eager to get on the road, Judd heaved a sigh and made his way to her door. He rapped a couple of times. “Ms. Montgomery, would you like some help?”

  “Er...no,” she said, sounding oddly distracted. She mumbled something low, almost as though she was talking to someone else.

  He frowned, a finger of unease nudging his belly. “Not to belabor the point, but as I’ve said, it’s important that we get on the road. The quicker we act, the better.” He was not going to ask her to hurry. That went without saying and, as she seemed to be fiendishly clever, she knew that already.

  It was infuriating.

  Her voice, when it came, was from farther away than before. “I’m almost finished,” she said. Had she moved? All the way across the room? And if so, then why? He heard her mutter a low, heartfelt curse.

  “I’ll help you,” he said, grabbing the doorknob. He realized it was locked at the exact same moment that his cell phone vibrated. He swore under his breath, checked the display, fully anticipating another message from his twin, then blinked when he realized it was the office calling—Payne’s direct line, as a matter of fact.

  “Anderson,” he answered with a puzzled frown. Surely to God he hadn’t screwed something up already. Hell, he’d just gotten here.

  “Afternoon, Judd,” Payne said, a hint of something not readily definable in his cool voice. Irony, maybe? Humor certainly. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s all clear,” he said. “I’m merely waiting on Ms. Montgomery to collect her belongings so that we can be on our way. She’d neglected to pack,” he said a little loudly, in a slightly dark tone, hoping to shame her into action.

  Strangely enough, his boss cleared his throat of a chuckle. “Right. Where is she, exactly?”

  Judd scowled again, glanced at the door as though he could suddenly see through it. What an odd question. “She’s in her room.”

  “Ah, that explains it,” Payne said.

  Explained what? Because he was as confused as hell. “I’m sorry?”

  “Your target just called and asked for a new agent.

  Evidently she’s decided that you and she aren’t going to get along. You’re ‘ill-suited,’ she said.”

  Shock detonated through him, widening his eyes. “She what?"

  “I know that this is your first assignment for us, Judd, and I know I don’t need to tell you how to do your job—truthfully, this is the first time this has ever happened—but in future 1 think it would probably be best not to let her out of your sight. And you should confiscate her cell phone. She doesn’t need one while she’s in your custody and they’re too easily traced. Tubby Winchester is no fool, despite his name, and he’s connected with exceedingly deep pockets. Tracking her via the GPS in her mobile is completely within the scope of his range.”

  Judd’s jaw clenched so hard he feared it would shatter and he glared a black, blistering hole at the door. Mortification momentarily robbed him of speech. His face and temper equally flamed. “Right,” he bit out.

  “As 1 explained to Ms. Montgomery, you were the agent chosen for this case because you were best suited to this job and merely swapping you out, even if it was possible—which it isn’t—wouldn’t be in her best interests. I advised her to follow your instruction to the letter.”

  She’d tattled on him, Judd thought, still stunned and impossibly angrier than he had been only seconds before. His nostrils flared. His blood pressure inched toward stroke level. Like he was some sort of damned bully on the playground. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Whoa,” his boss said. “I’m no ‘sir.’ I’m either Brian or Payne. Your choice because I’ll answer to both. And, so we’re clear, you aren’t being called on the carpet, you’re being apprised of the situation.” He laughed softly under his breath. “Good luck,” he said. “She sounds like she’s going to be a little hard to handle.” He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so flattered while having my judgment questioned.”

  Ah, yes. He was familiar with the technique. “Neat trick, that, isn’t it?” Judd asked with a grim laugh. He was still steaming over the military vs. civilian culture insinuation. Well, if she’d found his communication skills lacking before, then she’d better brace herself...because things were about to get a whole lot worse.

  After assuring Payne that he would text when they reached the safe house—which was actually a rented cabin in the north Georgia mountains—he disconnected and, with a well-placed kick of his boot, easily popped the door past the meager lock. It swung open on its hinges, revealing a wide-eyed and

  gratifyingly startled Noelle Montgomery.

  She blinked. Swallowed.

  Then, naturally—determinedly—lifted her chin. For reasons which escaped him, he found that unimaginably sexy. Hot. Infuriating.

  “You could have simply asked me to unlock the door,” she said. With an unconcerned shrug, she picked up her purse from off the bed and swung it over her slim shoulder. “But you definitely get an A-plus for dramatic effect.”

  That tone. That dismissive, unimpressed, pat-on- the-head-now-go-play-with-your-toys-little-boy tone literally made his eye twitch.

  Judd strode forward, ignoring the rapid increase in his pulse and the sulky pout of her bottom lip, then plucked her cell phone from the front panel of her bag, turned it off and slipped
it into his pocket.

  She inhaled sharply. “That was mine,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m aware,” he growled.

  “Listen, Jack, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

  Before she could finish the rest of that sentence, Judd picked her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman hold—disregarding her muffled sound of outraged protest—then grabbed her bag and headed for the door. She smelled like a Christmas cookie, like butter and vanilla frosting. Insanely, his mouth watered for a taste of her. A lick, a nibble, even a painless little bite.

  “Wait! Stop!” she yelled, frantically grabbing hold of the frame as they went through. “Lilo and Stitch!”

  He paused and cocked his head toward her rump. Mistake. It was a nice rump. Mouthwatering. He gave his head a shake. “What? You’ve got a Disney movie in here somewhere?”

  “No, you gigantic jackass,” she hissed, exasperated. “The basket in the corner. My kittens.”

  His brow creased with confusion. “What?”

  She wiggled, evidently trying to propel him into the other direction. “My kittens!” she repeated impatiently. “I’m not leaving without them.”

  “No, she’s not,” Les announced from directly in front of him. His expression wavered between amused and concerned, a smile finally winning out. “I’m allergic.”

  Right, Judd thought. And he was Santa Claus. “Kittens,” Judd repeated tonelessly. “Wonderful.” Ignoring temptation, he took a couple of steps back to avoid whacking her head against the door frame, then made his way to the corner where the innocuous-looking wicker basket sat. He squatted down, carefully lifted the lid and dual sets of bright green eyes peered back at him from little black, whiskered faces. He sighed and resisted the urge to pass a hand over his face. He’d gone from picking off terrorists one at a time to babysitting kittens and an ungrateful eyewitness who’d lobbied within minutes of meeting him to get him replaced.

  Perfect. Perhaps leaving the military had been a mistake, Judd thought with a fatalistic grunt.

  “I’m not going without them,” she repeated stubbornly, an undercurrent of panic in her voice.

  Les wandered over, closed the lid, lifted the basket and then turned and handed it to Noelle. “Of course not, darlin’. They’re yours, aren’t they?”

  She crooned something nonsensical and ground the edge of the container into his back. On purpose, he suspected.

  “Fine,” he said. He straightened and made the return trek through the house, listening as she promised to get in touch with all of them as soon as the trial was over to see how they were doing. She thanked them for taking such good care of her, adding, “I don’t think I can expect as good a treatment from my new guard,” her voice ebbing and flowing with each determined step that he took.

  As if he were her damned jailer and not there for her protection. Honest to God, by the time he got her out of here, there wasn’t going to be a bit of enamel left on his back teeth.

  “Is this really necessary?” Clark asked, arching a questioning brow as they came through the living room.

  “He’s showing off, Clark. Where you use words, my hero here prefers brute force,” she drawled. “No doubt he’s overcompensating,” she stage-whispered loudly.

  She was in the wrong position for throttling, but a spanking wasn’t out of the question, he thought, seething. “The only thing I’m overcompensating for is her pure lack of preparedness,” Judd remarked. “Evidently, Ms. Montgomery has as little regard for our lives as she does her own, otherwise she would have been ready and cooperative when I got here. And she wouldn’t have used her cell phone—which she shouldn’t have been allowed to keep anyway— and possibly compromised all of you by giving her hunters an opportunity to locate her via the GPS mechanism in her phone. I’d clear out quickly if I were you,” he advised them.

  Silence, at last. A chink in the armor?

  Roy accommodatingly opened the door for him. “Keep safe, Noelle,” he said, concern coloring his tone. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, boys,” she repeated wistfully. “I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  Her soft breasts bounced against his back as he descended the steps and started down the walk.

  “Oh, yes,” she said mockingly. “1 can see where you hauling me across the yard like a caveman isn’t the least bit conspicuous. Gee, I wonder why no one else thought of this? You would have attracted less attention if you’d dragged me by my hair.”

  He opened the door, tossed her bag into the back and dumped her unceremoniously into the passenger seat. She huffed a breath, adjusted her skirt, then strapped both herself and the basket in behind the seat belt.

  Judd braced both hands on the doorframe and leaned forward, delighted when she gulped, and bared his teeth in a grin. “Oh, don’t worry, Princess Pain in the Ass. That’s how I plan to get you inside.”

  ###

  “She asked for a different agent?” Jeb Anderson parroted, shock racing across the features that couldn’t be any more different than his twin’s. “Seriously?”

  Payne chuckled softly and shook his head. “Yes, she did. Your brother sounded immensely displeased.”

  Jeb grunted knowingly. “I’ll bet he did.” He whistled low. “I’m the more even-keeled of the two of us,” he said. “My mother used to tease us, saying I was the dynamite and Judd was the explosion.”

  He could certainly see that, Payne thought. Jeb had reminded him strongly of himself—controlled, measured and meticulous. Banked energy. Judd, on the other hand, was like a live wire. Thought and action were so seamlessly tied together that one might assume that he didn’t make the proper considerations before proceeding. But that assumption would be wrong. Judd Anderson always knew what he was doing and why he was doing it.

  And seeing the pair of them together was definitely bizarre. Heaven and Hell, Guy had joked. Where Jeb resembled an angel fallen from Paradise—blond hair and blue-eyed—Judd looked like he’d been spit straight out the gates of Hades. Jet black hair, even blacker eyes. Add in their size— which was notable—and the fact that Jeb was right handed, with a remarkable dimple in his right cheek and Judd was left-handed and that same dimple cut through his left cheek...it was striking.

  Were that not enough to make them two of the most interesting people he’d ever met, the pair had the strongest twin connection Payne had ever seen. They didn’t just finish each other’s sentences or communicate with some sort of silent language, they could pick up on what the other was feeling. They had a hypersensitive bond that boggled the mind.

  Furthermore, though Jeb had seemed content and relatively settled—particularly after meeting and marrying Sophie—since coming on board at the agency, the difference in him now that Judd was here as well was especially notable. He laughed more easily, smiled more readily and seemed generally more at ease.

  “Friends from the womb,” Jeb had explained, when Payne had mentioned the change to him.

  Jeb glanced up at him, hesitated. “He’s keeping something from me,” he said. “I know it.”

  He would, Payne thought. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. “Oh?”

  “I know that when I left things were a bit...difficult for him. For me as well,” he added. “Not that we couldn’t handle it, of course. But...” He glanced at the carpet, shrugged. “Not to get too woo-woo on you,” he said, describing the twin connection. “But managing the twin thing is just easier when we’re closer. Being on different continents for the past nine months has been a little stressful for both of us.”

  Payne nodded. “I can see where that would be true.”

  “Our parents think Judd left the military because he couldn’t bear to be away from me. That’s true, in part, I’m sure.” He glanced up, leveled his gaze at him. “But there’s something more. Another reason. Something else happened. I know it. Feel it. But whatever it is, he hasn’t shared it with me. We’ve never kept secrets from each other.�
�� His lips twisted with wry humor. “Why bother, right?” he joked. “But he’s keeping one now and I know that whatever it is...it’s unpleasant for him.” He paused, speared Payne with another one of those direct looks. “I know you’ve talked to Colonel Garrett. Could you shed any light on the situation for me?”

  And there it was. He’d anticipated this discussion and as such had prepared his answer. “I’d rather not,” Payne told him. “What I’m aware of didn’t come from your brother, so strictly speaking it wouldn’t be a betrayal of trust. But speaking as a man and former soldier with my own private struggles, there are some things that are better shared in one’s own time, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Payne knew he would, because Jeb’s reasons for leaving the military had been so similar to his own. Botched mission, lost lives, the burden of responsibility and shame. Payne had eventually come to terms with his own guilt and suspected that Jeb was on his way there as well, but the path was long and arduous. The same qualities that made a man a good soldier were the very same ones that made him honorable and self-sacrificing. The mantle of responsibility was heavy and grew even weightier when something went wrong. He thumped his pen absently against his desk, inwardly grimacing. Shrugging that bitch off when it landed on your shoulders was damned tough.

  Jeb was thoughtful for a moment, then eventually smiled and lifted his shoulder. “I had to try,” he said. Payne chuckled. “I would have done the same.” “Ah, hell,” Jeb muttered with a sigh. “I guess he’s entitled to one secret.”

  “He’ll eventually tell you. Keeping it from you is probably harder than actually sharing it.”

  Jeb paused to consider him, his gaze direct and thoughtful. “I think you have a better understanding of this than most experts claim to,” he remarked.

  Payne merely shrugged. “People are fascinating.”