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CHAPTER 5
Evan
Red madeher move while I finished putting away the breakfast dishes. I knew the minute she walked into my office. It’s hard to have a light step on hardwood floors, although she did a pretty good job of it. I wasn’t worried about her snooping, even though I did have work and personal files in my office that I wouldn’t want anyone to find, because they were locked up tight on my laptop, under layers of state-of-the-art security systems.
While she snooped and Bennet took his sweet time getting back to me, I poured myself a second cup of coffee and stared out the glass doors leading to my balcony, watching the sun triumph over the clouds. Unfortunately, with a few minutes of time on my hands, my thoughts were easily led astray by my cock. I’d been half-hard all morning knowing a sexy redhead was in my bed. And the woman was a hell of a flirt. It was at least in part to get information out of me, but even with my overly developed cynicism, I was pretty sure her dilated pupils and flushed skin were products of attraction, not subterfuge.
Every time I thought about her wearing my white tee shirt pulled tight over her tits, I got rock hard. Even with the big sweatshirt covering that vision, her wearing my clothes and smelling like my shampoo had made it feel like I’d put my stamp on her. Like she belonged to me. There was that old adage that once you save a life, you’re responsible for it. But my desire to possess Samantha Bond was more undersexed caveman than evolved philosopher.
I dumped out the second half of my coffee, not needing caffeine to add to the adrenaline pumping through me. I called Bennet to tell him to move his ass along. I needed information before I could make Red safe, and I needed her to be safe before I could get her out of my life—and my bed and my vividly detailed fantasies—for both our sakes.
“Still waiting for more information,” Bennet said without preamble.
“What’s taking so long?” I grumbled to my boss.
“We’re a little short-staffed here while one of our lead investigators plays house with a mysterious lady doctor,” he said. “And aren’t you Little Miss Mary Sunshine. Although I understand your bad mood. The picture in your girl’s file...” He whistled. “She’s totally your type, but if I know you, you’re keeping your hands to yourself.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“Okay, you go with that,” Bennet said. “But while I’m waiting for Taylor to send me some files, which he promises to have ready in two minutes, a word of advice. Get laid, Prescott. With your doc, with someone else, doesn’t really matter to us. But the entire staff has noticed a marked increase in your assholery in the last few months, which seems to correlate with the timing of the end of your last relationship.”
“It wasn’t a relationship. It was completely casual.”
More casual for Sarah than for me, which had seemed fine in the beginning, but had turned out not to be cool with me after all. Luckily, I hadn’t had time to develop deep feelings for her. Although, maybe time wasn’t the problem. Even after a few months, I’d never once looked at Sarah when she was in my bed and thought, she belongs here.
“Here we go,” Bennet said. “Taylor’s research indicates everything adds up on Dr. Samantha Bond. Impressive. She graduated from high school in Miami at the tender age of 16.”
I pictured Red in Miami, strolling along the beach in a white bikini... At this rate, I’d need to hop in the shower and bust a nut like I was still a high school kid. Embarrassingly, I was pretty sure it would only take about ten seconds.
“Four years undergrad at Wake Forest,” Bennet continued, “then Columbia Medical School and surgery residency at Harvard. Gorgeous and smart. Way out of your league.”
“And the career information I texted you?”
“Army field surgeon, yes, for three years,” he said. “She left two years ago. That’s where it gets a little murky. On paper, it looks like she went into private concierge practice in Florida, but the details are a little hard to pin down.”
“Which would track with some intelligence agency bullshit.”
“Sure would. Taylor’s going to keep digging and—What?” he said to someone else. “Shit. Prescott, I have to mute you for a minute.”
No kidding, shit. That didn’t sound good. I paced the length of my kitchen and back multiple times, waiting for Bennet to get back on the line or Red to get out of my office and back into my bed or for something in this fucking day to go well.
Bennet came back. “Taylor just texted you some photos. Tell us if these guys look familiar.”
I put my phone on speaker and checked my texts. “Those are the men that attacked the doctor last night.”
“Well, they’re sitting on your street, half a block down from your building, and they brought friends,” he said. “There’s another car registered to the same company sitting half a block up in the other direction.”
“Shit.”
“And it gets worse,” Taylor said in the background.
“What’s he talking about?” I asked.
Bennet groaned. “Someone just downloaded blueprints of your building from the city archives.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“We’ll get you out of there,” Bennet assured me. “Taylor is sending over a van for you to use and I’ll work on setting up a safe house. But if they see you driving the van and recognize you from yesterday, they might give chase.”
