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Noah braced against the wall, listening to the footsteps, watching the shadow cast and at just the right moment, stepped out, aiming his arm at neck height for most men, pinning the intruder back against the wall and holding the gun to his head before his eyes adjusted and he recognized Gray.
“Holy shit, man!” Gray lifted his hands and pushed Noah backwards, swearing again then laughing. “I should have told you I was coming over.”
“Yeah, you should have. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot.”
Noah
sheathed his pistol, wondering at the sinking sensation of guilt in his gut. Not guilt at having pulled a weapon on his friend, but guilt about something else entirely – the way he’d been standing with Gray’s sister a minute ago, the way he’d been thinking about her all day, the things he’d been wanting to say to her, do to her.
“I heard about the carpark. How is she?”
Incredible. Strong. Resilient. Noah bit back the first words and focused on his job. “She was shocked but she’s coping. I want this bastard put away.”
“What do we know?”
“Give me a sec.” He walked back into the lounge, where Max was standing, right as he’d left her. “It’s Gray.”
“Gray?” She squeaked, exhaling a huge breath. “OhmyGod. Why didn’t he call?”
“Because he’s an idiot. You’re fine. Go about your business, I just need to talk to him a minute.”
She looked ready to argue, as though she knew they’d be talking about her and didn’t want to be excluded, but then she nodded slowly. “I’ll be in here.”
Was she scared to go upstairs? To move about the house? He hated that. This bastard had taken way too much from her. As he left the room, he heard the flicking on of the kettle.
Back in the entrance way, Noah ran through the investigations he’d been conducting. While he was providing on-the-ground security for Max, he had a team of digital analysts wading through the back end of her life: her contacts, her events, looking at logged security footage and paparazzi shots, Instagram photos, for anything that might stand out – using sophisticated facial recognition technology to spot any repeating faces.
“And?”
“And we’re working on it. Until then, I’m here.”
“The blood –,”
“We were in Paris. I’ve already spoken to the corporate security team and made recommendations for tightening procedures at Fortescue Tower.”
Gray dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes focused on the wall opposite. “I thought I’d done that.”
“You’re not a security expert, Gray. There’s only so much you can do.”
“I thought I hired the best of the best.”
“You did,” Noah grinned, pointing at his chest. “You’re looking at him.”
“You’re such a cocky bastard.” Gray laughed. “You got dinner plans?”
Dinner plans? He thought of Max immediately, of spending time with her, eating with her, and guilt flushed him. “I was going to secure the house then catch up on some reports.”
“Eat with us. I’ll order some burgers.”
Us. Him and Max. Noah was Gray’s best friend, but in this situation, he was an outsider, and he couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting around a table with his best friend and the woman he’d been hired to protect – who he was developing some seriously hot fantasies about – and acting as though everything was completely normal.
“You go ahead, I really have to work.”
She was curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea in one hand when they entered, the Virginia Woolf book in the other. Noah’s gut did a funny twist and drop.
“Gray.” She stood, putting the book aside and walking towards her brother. Noah’s guilt went through the roof. He’d kissed her. He’d touched her. He’d stripped her shirt from her body and taken her nipples into his mouth. If she hadn’t made the comment about sex being just what she needed – to forget the hell her life had become – he would have made love to her. After Gray had trusted him with this job.
Noah turned away, striding into the kitchen and making a coffee. Once it was done, he went to the stairs. “I’m going to do the rounds.”
