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Callum reached for his prosthetic legs. Although there was a ramp that led straight into the office from the old carriage house at the back of the Benson Security building, Callum didn’t like to use his wheelchair. If he was going to manage the London office, he was damn well going to do it standing—even if it wasn’t on his own two feet.

“Thanks.” He heard Joe’s relief. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m getting a real bad feeling about it. Whatever it is, it’s a helluva lot worse than Julia’s gran let on.”

“Another bloody family crisis. This is what I’m dealing with now. I never had to deal with this crap in the special forces.” Callum put the call on speaker and started to pull the compression sock over his left leg stump. “I should have known when Julia used those doe eyes on me and asked for time off to bail her poor wee gran out of a foreign jail that this would end up being far from simple. We haven’t even opened the doors of this bloody office and already we’re on our second renovation because of family issues.”

Okay, so they’d agreed to help Dimitri find his sister before they even took over the London office and, technically, it wasn’t Dimitri’s fault that someone had bombed the place, but still. Callum had only just bought into the company, the London office hadn’t even taken on its first paying client and already they were up to their necks in yet more of his team’s family drama.

“You about done whining?” The American bastard sounded amused.

“Am I entertaining you, Joe?” Callum strapped on his prosthetic leg.

“Not at all, boss. Not at all.”

“Bastard,” Callum muttered. “While I remember, get Julia to call her parents. Her mother has been ringing all bloody day because she can’t get her daughter on the phone, and I don’t know what to tell her. All Julia said before she ran out of here was that her mother was to be kept in the dark. It’s like being back in high school. I do not have time for this crap.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” Joe drawled. “Now, if you’re done ranting, can we focus on the problem in Peru? I exhausted my reliable contacts pulling a lawyer. I don’t know anyone here I trust enough to do some digging for me or to watch our backs. You got anyone you can recommend?”

Callum ran a hand down his face. Man, but he felt every second of his forty-two years. “I’ll see who I can dig up and call you back.”

“Appreciated,” Joe said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Callum cut the call dead and yanked his jeans up over his half-plastic legs.

Two minutes later, he’d pulled a t-shirt over his head and was striding towards his office. It was time to call his business partners and tell them they’d somehow managed to find trouble all over again.

Joe had insisted on a suite, when Julia would have rather they had separate rooms—far away from each other, on opposite sides of the hotel. The suite was decorated in a style Julia had come to think of as lush, modern chic. Lots of overfilled soft furnishings and patterned fabrics, in rich colours, interspersed with white. At least she was grateful that the suite had two bedrooms and that they were in a hotel she was familiar with. She’d stayed in the InterContinental many times with her family. That didn’t stop her calling down to management while Joe was making his own calls. She grilled the poor duty manager on the temperature of her dishwashing water and frying oil, as well as on their hygiene standards concerning food preparation. To her credit, the woman was very patient with Julia’s weird interrogation, and now she knew she could safely order off the menu in any of the hotel’s four restaurants.

Which she would do right after she unpacked. But wait, she couldn’t unpack because her bags were in a completely different hotel. Julia eyed the bedroom where Joe had dumped his own bag and was currently pacing while he mumbled into his phone. Maybe she could sneak out while he was talking. She could head back to her original hotel, unpack her bags, barricade the door and spend a peaceful night alone.

As though reading her mind, Joe turned and stared at her while he spoke. He said something into the phone before holding it away from his ear and pointing at her.

“Don’t even think about going anywhere. It isn’t safe, and I will just hunt you down anyway.”

Julia gaped at the man while he continued his conversation with the local police. How did he do that? How did he read her mind? It was seriously disconcerting. Instead of bolting for the door, like any sane woman would do, Julia walked to the large window and looked out at the city.

The suite Joe had insisted on, was on one of the higher floors in the hotel, with views out over Miraflores and the cliffs, to the Pacific Ocean. Not that she’d seen any of these things, except on her iPad when she’d googled the area. Joe had told her that Miraflores was an affluent area popular with tourists. Google told her the name translated into “look at the flowers,” which she thought was pretty. She was also hopeful it meant the suburb had less sand and more greenery.

“Callum says you need to call your mother.”

Joe’s voice startled Julia, making her jerk forward and bump her forehead against the glass.

“Come here.” His hand held her shoulder and turned her to him. He scrutinised her forehead, gently tracing a finger over the area she’d hit.

“It’s nothing,” Julia whispered, aware of how close he was standing.

His sinfully sensual lips quirked up at the corners. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Danger! Danger! Overload, overload, system malfunction!

Joe Barone had a tendency to eat up all the space around him, making her feel like she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the fact he towered over her, or that his shoulders were impossibly wide—it was his intensity. Something she doubted most people noticed because he hid it behind easy charm and a quick smile. But she saw it. Probably because she’d spent so much time over the past year studying the man—covertly, of course. Joe Barone was a coiled tiger. He was dangerous, smart and relentless in everything he pursued.

Which terrified her, because Julia knew he was pursuing her.

“What did you say?” she whispered, aware of just how close he was standing.

“I said”—he ran his thumb over her forehead—“do you want me to kiss it better?

Julia jerked back, away from his touch.

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