Deadly Secrets, page 7
G-ma Carlyle always said a person’s home was a museum to their life, holding memories and revealing their nature. If that was true, Jana’s expensive taste ended with her wardrobe. The furnishings were contemporary but felt warm, well-used, and welcoming. Actual photos, not an electronic gadget that flipped images, and hardback books populated the bookshelves. Rafe studied each picture—an older version of Jana at a rally of some sort, college friends at graduation, more recent updates of the same group, and two attractive women with a baby—people who mattered to Jana. If her clothes said extravagant and aloof, her home screamed function and hospitality. Which of Jana’s contradictions was the truth of her, Rafe had yet to discover.
The lingering scents of Jana’s flowery perfume and last night’s omelet and coffee still filled the unit. Their evening felt like a date, or at least what she remembered of dates, until she saw the fear in Jana’s eyes. Why was she so blunt in her assessment? Jana wasn’t a soldier who needed hard facts or a government representative who’d spin whatever she told them to their own advantage. She was a woman who discovered her world was not exactly as it seemed…and feared it. But Rafe couldn’t afford to sugarcoat the truth or indulge her latent emotions now. Jana needed, and deserved, her to be on top of her game.
She slid out of the recliner, returned it to its original position, and reached for her backpack, diverting to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot before hitting the bathroom. The shower spray pounded her stiff shoulders with the pressure lacking in the nest. She’d missed this most on her missions, often going for days without enough water for minimal cleaning, much less the luxury of a shower. It never seemed to bother the rest of the team.
Were the guys on another assignment? Had they filled her position already? Maybe they could get together for a beer. A chill in the water temperature brought her back to the reality of her situation. Retired. Her quasi-family was gone, and she needed a new purpose. What had her service experience prepared her for in the civilian world? Being a bodyguard? Most corporations didn’t require her specific skill set.
She turned off the shower, dried, and wiped down the tile with her microfiber towel, and then cleaned the drain and put everything back exactly as she’d found it. Force of habit. Leave no trace. A few minutes later, she was dressed and sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee. The sound of the master bathroom shower preceded Jana’s cushioned footsteps in the hall.
“Good morning. Thought I smelled coffee. Thanks. I’ve never tried sleeping in the recliner. How was it?” She paused. “Sorry, I’m jabbering, as you put it. Not used to anyone being here in the morning. Wait, that sounded weird.” She filled her coffee cup but kept her back to Rafe. “I have guests, of course, but they don’t often stay…I mean they’re—”
“Stop.” Rafe considered letting Jana ramble, because she was adorable when she was a bit edgy. At least Rafe wasn’t the only one with a case of nerves. “You don’t have to explain your life to me. Sleep well?”
Jana stretched and her silky robe gapped open revealing lacy underwear, her lean torso, and long, shapely legs. “The best sleep I’ve had in three days for sure. I can’t thank you enough for staying. Did you sleep?”
Rafe shook her head.
“I imagine in your line of work sleep is a luxury you can’t often afford.”
Rafe nodded and took another sip of coffee. “Sleep is like a mini death, and it brings memories of too many others.”
Jana stared as if grappling for a response to the morbid observation but decided against it. “Okay, then, how about I make breakfast?”
Rafe raised her cup. “I’m not much of a morning food person, just keep this coming and I’m fine.” Jana took the stool beside Rafe at the island, and she got a whiff of her delicate perfume and freshly showered skin—a blend of flowers, fresh air, and rain—three of her favorite things. She turned sideways and breathed deeply to refocus before facing Jana again.
“I’ve been thinking about how we can get you into Alumicor,” Jana said.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Last week we had a walk-in, what our security folks called a breach, but was actually a homeless man looking for food. He wasn’t threatening or anything, just needed help. The boss wasn’t happy with the company because we’re card-access only, and they’re supposed to man the front entrance at all times. I could pass you off as a security expert. It’s what you do, right?”
“Not exactly but go on.”
“I could say I’ve asked you to conduct an independent review of the incident to determine what happened and give us and the security company recommendations. It wouldn’t be a lie to say some of our personnel were shaken by the incident. What do you think?” She took a sip of coffee and licked her lips, and again, Rafe looked away.
“It has potential, but wouldn’t that require me to actually assess the building instead of watching over you?”
“Hmmm. I see what you mean. Somebody would need to show you around the place, and that could easily be me. And once you’ve conducted your evaluation, you can camp out in my office or adjoining conference room with your laptop to finish the report. I assume you do have a laptop?”
Rafe nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I can sell being a threat assessment professional.”
“I’ll call Camille and have her organize an access card. You can have your picture taken when we arrive.” She studied Rafe for a few seconds, a look that made her skin heat and thoughts wander, before adding, “But we’ll have to do something about your outfit.”
Rafe looked down at the black heavy-duty cargo pants, T-shirt, and boots she’d worn as her unofficial uniform for years. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
Jana stuck her tongue between her lips and bit down to keep from laughing, but her blue eyes sparkled. “Can you say terrifying? You look like SEAL Team Six. Very attractive but still.”
“Shut up.” Rafe slapped her hand over her heart. “How dare you compare a member of Delta Force to those SEAL Team guys.”
“Sorry? But my point is, people in corporate America like to feel comfortable, not intimidated by Commando Barbie. And you have to meet Fergus before our plan can work.”
Rafe mentally inventoried her small stack of clothes in the nest and shrugged. “I don’t have any business attire. I was a soldier and when I wasn’t in uniform, I wore this.”
“What did you wear on dates?”
Jana’s cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink, and Rafe smothered a laugh with another sip of coffee. “I haven’t dated in years.”
“Years? You’re kidding, right? But you’ve been out, hooked up, had some kind of…interaction…with whomever?” Jana’s tone made it sound like she’d committed a crime.
“I couldn’t exactly join dating sites in my line of work, and the places I was deployed didn’t lend themselves to bars, alcohol, or cruising for lesbian company.” She shied from Jana’s stare and noted the ache in her chest. The service devoured her like a jealous lover and never cared about clothes, how she looked, or if her personal needs were met. Why did it matter now? Feelings were not part of her job. “Back to my wardrobe?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I think I have something that will work.”
“I’ve seen what you wear, and trust me, I’m not a designer suit woman.”
“You don’t have to be. Will you just trust me?” Jana rose from the island and motioned for Rafe to follow.
“I’ll just go shopping on the way to your office.”
“Where?” Jana asked. “Army-Navy surplus? None of the actual clothing stores open until ten, and we have to be at work no later than nine, though I’m usually in by eight.”
She followed Jana down the hall, each step more uncertain than the last. Was she really doing this? Going into Jana’s bedroom with the queen-sized bed? The most intimate room in her home, where she’d probably had sex with more women than Rafe even knew. Stop. Focus.
Jana pointed to a chair in the corner. “Sit while I work my magic.” She kept talking as she stepped into the walk-in closet. “We’re close to the same height, and similar size, just distributed differently.”
Similar but so very different. Rafe couldn’t resist the pull to look at Jana, and when she did, the closet light shown through the sheer fabric of Jana’s nightgown and outlined the ways their bodies contrasted. “Damn.” Rafe moaned and stiffened with an urge so unfamiliar it felt like something foreign awakening inside her.
“What?” Jana stuck her head out of the closet. “What did you say?”
“Not—nothing. This is just crazy.”
Jana emerged with her arms full of options. “I think you’ll like these.” She smiled, and her eyes grew wide. “It’s like a treasure hunt in there.” She dropped the pile on the bed and tweezed out a pair of black jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a black and gray tweed jacket with leather-patched elbows.
“O—kay.”
“Okay yes or okay no?” Jana asked.
“Actually, not bad.” She’d found probably the only things in her exorbitant wardrobe that Rafe would wear.
Jana grinned. “You assess things your way, and I assess them mine. These are from my tomboy phase, before personal shoppers. Try them on.”
Rafe grabbed the outfit and started toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“The bathroom to change.”
“Try them on here, so I can see how they fit and what needs to be changed.”
Rafe shook her head. She did that a lot around Jana, unsure what to say or how to say it. “Not happening. I’ll be back.”
“What’s the matter, don’t trust me?” When Rafe didn’t answer, Jana motioned to the other door in her suite. “Well, at least use my bathroom. We’re running out of time.”
Rafe could’ve sworn Jana laughed as she closed the bathroom door and stripped. She pulled on the jeans first, followed by the shirt. She’d try the jacket after Jana approved the rest.
When she stepped back into the bedroom, Jana froze holding a red T-shirt in front of her. “Oh. Wow. Those look way better on you than they ever did on me.” She dropped the T-shirt and reached toward Rafe. “May I?”
“I guess.” Rafe’s body burned like flash paper when Jana lifted the shirt and tucked two fingers in the waistband of the jeans to check the fit. She puffed slow breaths to control her pulse. When was the last time she’d been touched other than in combat training or an actual fight? And she’d never felt skin as soft and tender as Jana’s.
“They’re perfect in the waist, maybe a little tight through the thighs but not at all unattractive.” Jana ran her hand down the front of Rafe’s leg and pulled at the fabric.
“Please.” She sounded tense and needy. “Stop.”
Jana stepped back. “Sorry. I guess you don’t like to be touched.”
The problem was, Rafe liked Jana’s touch too much, but went with the offered out.
Jana put her hands on her hips and studied the shirt. “I think that’s definitely too loose. Try this. I’ll even give you privacy.” She tossed the red T-shirt to Rafe and turned her back.
Rafe shucked the blouse off and pulled the T-shirt over her head. “Yeah, now you’re talking. Great.”
Jana turned. “Yes, it certainly is. It compliments that tanned complexion of yours and doesn’t look like someone stole half of your breasts. Now, the jacket.” Rafe’s face heated, and Jana said, “You really should learn to take a compliment.”
“Not my thing.” She slid her arms into the jacket sleeves and tugged it together in the front. “A little snug in the arms but I can deal.”
“Perfect. You look business casual, which suits someone in your line of work. Too dressed and you look soft. Too sloppy and you’re unreliable. Now, go caffeinate while I get dressed.”
Rafe took a couple of steps and stopped. “Thank you. You realize we might be doing this for nothing. You haven’t even decided if you want to hire me yet.”
“And I won’t know until we pull off this scam. Think positively. And you’re welcome. And thank you for staying last night. And—”
“Stop rambling and dress, Ms. Elliott.”
Jana saluted. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Rafe scooped up her discarded clothes from the bathroom and folded them neatly into her backpack in the living area. She poured another cup of coffee and tried not to think about wearing Jana’s clothes. The guys called this the cheater’s way into a woman’s pants. She’d definitely been around men too long. Part of her prayed this job opportunity fell through, but the other part really wanted it to work. If it didn’t, she’d have no excuse to see Jana again…and maybe that was best. No two people could be more different.
Chapter Nine
Jana waved to the concierge on the way out of the building with Rafe close behind. She was tempted to grab Rafe’s hand so the women in the lobby would stop ogling her, but Rafe would probably freak.
“I need to pick up my bike from Ben’s place,” Rafe said as they walked.
“You won’t need it. We’re here.”
Rafe gawked at the granite high-rise. “Easy commute. What is it, half a block?”
“Not even. I actually counted the steps once door to door, walking and running.”
Rafe cocked her head to the side, sending curls dancing across her forehead.
“Slow day.” Jana motioned toward the elevator. “We’re on the ninth floor.” Rafe tensed beside her as they squeezed into the packed space. “Relax. It’s a quick ride if we go straight through.” Rafe craned her neck to look at the floor indicator where every stop was illuminated. Jana shrugged. “Sorry. Are you ready for this?” She hoped to distract Rafe and take her own mind off explaining her companion to Camille.
“I will be once we’re on site.”
With each departure from the elevator, Rafe breathed more easily and seemed to fill the vacated space. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her neck right and left as if preparing for battle. “Remember, you’ll be dealing with civilians, so—”
“No kicking ass and taking names?”
Rafe shot her a full smile, and Jana almost swooned. She’d never met a woman so confident, attractive, and vexingly unaware of her appeal. “Exactly. And please be extra careful with my assistant, Camille. She’s very perceptive. If anyone smells a rat, it’ll be her.” The elevator pinged on their floor, and Jana said under her breath, “Here we go.”
Camille was waiting with the ID printer in her hand. “I’m read—” Her gaze shifted from Jana to Rafe without a second glance at Jana’s Armani suit much less a comment. “Wow. I mean. Uh…you’re the—”
“Threat assessment expert,” Jana said. “Close your mouth, Camille. This is Rafaella Silva of Silva Security Solutions. Do you have her ID?”
“Just need a photo.” She pointed to the blank wall beside the elevator. “If you’d stand over there, Rafaella.”
“Just Rafe.”
Camille faced Jana and mouthed, Oh, my God, and gave her a thumbs up. She snapped Rafe’s picture, and a few seconds later, the printer spat out the laminated ID. She attached a clip and took her time hooking it to the lapel of Rafe’s jacket. “There you go, Rafe, your all-access, go anywhere anytime pass to everything Alumicor.”
“Thank you, Camille. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Ms. Elliott speaks highly of you.”
Camille actually blushed, something Jana had never seen before. “Yes, thank you, Camille. Have you checked with Fergus?”
Camille didn’t take her eyes off Rafe. “Yes, he can see you now. Both of you.”
If she didn’t get Rafe away from Camille, she might forget she was a married woman with a new baby. “Good.” She inclined her head toward the private elevator at the end of the hall. “This way, Rafe.”
As they walked, Rafe said, “Camille seems very nice.”
“The best. She and her wife just had a baby girl.” Why she’d offered Camille’s personal status wasn’t clear. Maybe to red flag any interest Rafe might have in her assistant, or maybe she’d been the tiniest bit jealous of the easy way Camille fawned over Rafe. Why couldn’t she express her interest as freely? She certainly did with her usual liaisons, straightforward wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sex. She stopped in front of Fergus’s door and circled back to the thought of family. “Do you have relatives here?”
“No,” Rafe said in a tone so flat and sad that Jana hesitated to clarify.
“Not here?”
“No family. Period.” Rafe nodded to the closed door. “Shall we?”
“Sure you’re ready?”
Rafe nodded. “Don’t worry, Jana. I’ve got you.”
Jana’s pulse trebled as she knocked on the door, and Fergus bellowed for them to enter.
“Good morning, sir. This is Rafaella Silva of Silva Security Solutions. Rafe, this is William Fergus, CEO of Alumicor. I’ve asked Rafe to investigate last week’s security breach and make recommendations for improvement. Some of the staff were upset by the incident.” Rafe and Fergus shook hands and sized each other up like fighters circling in the ring, and Rafe didn’t flinch from his dark-eyed appraisal.
“Sir,” Rafe said.
“Have a seat and tell me about yourself and your company.” Fergus motioned to the leather chairs in front of his desk. “I couldn’t find you on the internet.”
“I recently retired from the military and started the company. It’s strictly a word of mouth and referral operation at this stage. I plan to be selective with my clientele.”
