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Consequently, Darius was here to receive intel from Max on his next protection assignment. But if questioned on the subject, he knew that, as Max had accused, he had no fucking clue who or what that was.
“You could try,” Darius rasped as he sat up straighter. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Max scowled. “The client needs your full attention.”
He nodded. “Which is why you need to hand their protection off to someone else.”
His brother’s expression softened. “Are things that bad for you right now?”
The question told Darius he obviously didn’t hide the darkness of his moods as well as he’d thought he did. “Things are no worse than they usually are.” In fact, they’d felt slightly better the past twenty hours or so.
Since Honey had pressed her trusting warmth against his leg early yesterday evening?
Maybe.
Or maybe it was Mia, the bright-eyed pixie—yes, he was still calling her that in his thoughts, and he’d thought about her a lot since they’d parted yesterday—who had calmed the frustration and anger constantly raging inside him.
All Darius knew for certain about Mia was the information he’d been given this morning when he’d question the two security men manning the desk in the reception area of the apartment building. It included her name—which he already knew—and that she had security clearance from one of the other tenants to come and go to their apartment in the early morning and evening.
The knowing expressions on the men’s faces when they imparted that information had told Darius they’d decided Mia Smith had to be some sort of sex worker.
An assumption that made him want to have both of them removed from his building.
The men denied all knowledge of being aware there was a dog living in any of the apartments.
The lazy bastards needed a kick up the arse, and if they’d been employed by Kingston Security, Darius would have taken great pleasure in administering that kick himself. Right out the door.
But when Darius had bought the building five years ago, it’d already had security in place, under contract from Wynter Security, another large family-owned firm in London. In fact, they often vied for the same contracts.
Darius had decided to leave things as is, rather than muddy the water by taking manpower from Kingston Security to protect his building.
But if this was the level of security Wynter Security provided, then Darius needed to rethink keeping his contract with them. In fact, he’d made an appointment later this morning to discuss the matter with Rufus Wynter, the head of the company. By the time he left the other man’s office, those two security menwoulddefinitely no longer be working in Darius’s building.
“You seem more distracted today than you usually are.” Max voiced his concern.
He shrugged. “I have some personal business I’m dealing with right now.”
“Really?” Max leaned back in his high-backed leather chair to study him through narrowed lids. “My God, I recognize that bemused expression on your face,” he observed slightly incredulously. “There’s a woman involved in this personal business.” It was a statement, not a question.
Darius scowled, knowing the reason for Max’s incredulity. “You know I don’t do relationships.”
“Any more than I did. Or Adam. Or Sinclair. Or Malachi, for that matter.” Max chuckled. “Believe me, the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t give a shite whether you’re in agreement with it or ready to bring that turmoil into your life.”
Just because three of his brothers, along with their cousin, had all married during the past year, didn’t mean that Darius was going to do the same.
Then why had a pair of mischievous green-and-turquoise eyes occupied his thoughts yesterday evening and haunted his dreams all the previous night?
Because he hated a mystery, Darius inwardly defended. And with those parting comments that she didn’t live in the apartment building and Honey wasn’t her dog, that’s exactly what Mia Smith had become.
He’d tried to find a profile of her online or on social media, but there was no information on her on the former and the list of Mia Smiths on social media had been endless. Even putting in London as her place of residence hadn’t helped. Nevertheless, Darius had wasted another half an hour checking those women out before deciding none of them were her.
What twenty-year-old didn’t have a personal social media presence?
One who had something to hide, came the obvious answer.
But not an answer that seemed to be a good fit with the openness and lack of guile he’d seen in Mia’s expression and behavior.
Damn it, he was the last person to be any sort of judge when it came to discerning whether openness and lack of guile were genuine, and he had the scars to prove it.
