“I’d want you to have some kind of personal protection, but yes, you could definitely go to work or anywhere else you wanted to go.”
She sighed. “Even if I agree, it doesn’t solve the problem. What am I going to do about El Jefe? The man expects me to join his criminal empire. God only knows what he wants me to do. Whatever it is, if I do it, I could go to prison. If I don’t, I could end up dead.”
“Come to Dallas. I’ve got a couple of ideas, but we need to talk them over, and right now I have to leave. Will you come with me?”
Carly hesitated too long to suit him, then sighed and slowly stood up from the chair. “All right, but I need a few minutes to get ready. Once you’re back in Dallas, you’ll be Lincoln Cain, hotshot millionaire. I don’t want to look like one of your poor relations.”
Linc chuckled. “Take your time.” He needed to get to the office, but he’d find a way to make it work. He didn’t tell her his meeting this morning was with the governor.
He didn’t want her to change her mind.
Chapter Eleven
Out her front window, Carly watched the big black helicopter with the red and black Tex/Am logo, an image of the state, hover then set down in the vacant field next to the house. Since they were running a little late, Linc had phoned his pilot and changed the pickup spot.
“I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss,” he said to her. “We need to go.” Grabbing the handle of the overnight bag she had packed so they could go straight to the ranch when the chopper returned to Iron Springs, he headed for the door.
Carly slung the strap of her laptop over her shoulder and picked up the quilted beige Chanel bag she carried with the apricot skirt suit and patterned navy and apricot silk blouse she was wearing. Hurrying, she walked out the door in front of him.
She hadn’t lied about not needing clothes. She’d been a real fashion diva when she’d flown the JFK-Paris route. For the first time, the expenditures seemed worthwhile.
She stepped off the porch and kept going. It wasn’t easy running across the muddy, uneven ground in a pair of Gucci high heels. When she stumbled, Linc steadied her.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He took the computer off her shoulder, carried it and her bag over to the chopper, then strode back and scooped her up against his chest—a big, powerful chest that she now knew was as gorgeous as Rowena had said.
Carrying her beneath the rotating blades, he set her down inside the helicopter, then climbed in behind her, settling his big body into the leather seat next to hers.
The pilot pulled off his headset. “You ready, Mr. C?”
“Dillon, this is Ms. Drake.” Linc strapped himself in and Carly did the same.
“Nice meetin’ ya, Ms. Drake,” Dillon drawled; he was an attractive dark-haired man somewhere in his late twenties.
She started to tell him she’d rather he just called her Carly, opened her mouth, shot a glance at Linc, and figured it was a bad idea.
Linc just smiled. “She’d rather you called her Carly,” he said.
Dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, Dillon touched the brim of his Tex/Am baseball cap, flashed her a grin, and went back to working the controls.
Linc pointed to the headset next to her seat and she put it over her ears as the helicopter lifted away. The swooping sensation had her stomach floating up, but she didn’t think the ride would bother her, not after all the flights she’d been on, some in pretty rough weather.
They made minor conversation on the way, but as Linc had said, the slightly over seventy-mile trip to his office didn’t take long. Below her, the fields made a quilted pattern along the roads. Dark green vegetation contrasted with rich black soil and clusters of houses.
“A lot less traffic this way,” Linc said as the chopper reached the city, hovered, then settled on the roof of a multistoried mirrored glass building on the north side of Dallas.
When they got out, one of the guys who was waiting on the roof took her computer while Linc grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a brushed chrome door that turned out to be an elevator. She noticed one just like it on the opposite side of the roof.
“One goes to my office. One goes to Beau’s.”
The elevator dropped down and opened into an impressive office with big glass windows. She didn’t have time to notice much more than the wide teakwood desk and tables and the caramel-colored leather chairs.
He tugged her toward a paneled door in the wall, hesitated an instant, then pulled it open and led her inside.
“Where are we?”
“Suite off my private office. Living room, bedroom, and bath. If I’m pressed for time, I can shower and dress right here, or catch a few hours’ sleep. Since we left directly from your house, I need to change. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right with you.”
