My cock tightens with a lust that is now impossible to ignore. The photo on the company website did nothing to prepare me for her in person. Her green eyes pin me in place, and she gives me a look that makes me straighten my spine like I’m standing in front of my old CO for inspection. This has never happened on a job. Zane is the one who looks at every woman like a potential conquest. But now, my body is demanding to know what she feels and tastes like, what she sounds like as she comes with my cock buried deep inside her.
What. The. Fuck?
I immediately shake my head to clear my vision of her breasts bouncing over my face as she rides my cock with lustful enthusiasm. I am not Zane, and I am not my father.
She moves in front of her desk and gives me her full attention. “Mr. Ambrose?”
“Ms. Raymond.” I step into her office, acutely aware of the tension rolling off her.
“I understand you’ve been briefed on the situation.” The exasperation and worry are gone from her face. She’s all business now. “The vandalism is escalating. This morning’s incident was the third this week.”
“I overheard part of your conversation. Something about dead fish. Anything else?”
“‘Save our lake’ was spray-painted on our signs and on the sides of the model house. We’ve already repainted it three times.” She moves to her desk, and the authority she exudes is an aphrodisiac. “The police think it’s environmental protesters.”
“You don’t?”
Her eyes snap to mine. “The timing doesn’t make sense. Environmental protesters usually show up before you break ground. We broke ground months ago and announced the project months before that. Developments like this don’t happen overnight, Mr. Ambrose. Why would environmental protesters wait this long? This has to be something else.”
Her voice is confident, her words logical. Surprisingly, I find myself trusting her assessment.
“Someone wants you to fail.”
“That’s what I think.” She grabs her jacket from the back of her chair. “I’m heading out there with you.”
“Are you sure? This is why you hired Ghost Security and me.”
Her spine straightens. “I know I need help, Mr. Ambrose, but I also can’t stand by. I have too much riding on this.”
“If you insist,” I say, wondering what mess this is going to be. It explains why she’s in jeans rather than the suit or dress I expected of an executive like her.
She’s definitely a powerful woman, but is she the kind who has something to prove and a desire to micromanage everything?
A sigh escapes me before I can catch myself. This might be a stressful contract.
Something flickers in her expression, and her gaze drops to my hands, lingering on my scarred knuckles.
She moves behind her desk and grabs a small overnight bag, then moves past me toward the door, and I catch another hint of a subtle perfume. “Let’s head out. You can drive.”
The elevator ride down is silent. She’s obviously deep in her own thoughts, and it’s not my job to be nosy about them. My job is to protect her property, to find and neutralize whoever is responsible for the graffiti and damage.
“I assume you’ve dealt with vandalism cases before,” she says as we exit into the parking garage.
“Among other things.”
“And your assessment so far?”
“Occam’s razor. The simplest explanation is usually the right one, and your idea about what’s happening is sound and likely correct. What you’re describing sounds like targeted attacks designed to intimidate you and sabotage the project. You have my word I’ll figuring out what’s going on and put an end to it.”
Her mouth curves into a smile. “Good. I don’t run from fights, Mr. Ambrose.”
Thunder rumbles overhead as we climb into my SUV. The storm’s moving in fast, and we’re driving straight into it. She’s not taking her car, and it rapidly becomes obvious that she’ll be here as long as I am. That wasn’t part of the plan, but if that’s what the client wants, all I can do is hope she doesn’t become a pain in the ass and hinder my work.
“Tell me about your father,” I say, turning my focus to the narrow, winding road we’re on and making sure we don’t end up smashing into a tree.
“What about him?”
“Is this your project or his?”
