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“Lose them or bring them home?” Logan asked. “We’ll be at headquarters soon.”
“Go ahead and lose them,” Gabe said.
“What’s the point?” Grace asked. “It’ll only be a matter of time before they find your headquarters if they were able to track you from the airport.”
“Yes, but I prefer to make them work for it,” Gabe said. “If they use computers, then Dragon might be able to lock in on their location.”
A low whistle echoed through the phone line. “That’s the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard,” Dragon said. “Please tell me it belongs to the package you went to pick up. Is she single? What color is her hair? Did you tell her about me?”
“Goodbye, Dragon,” Gabe said and disconnected the line. Gabe caught Grace’s snicker out of the corner of his eye.
“Somebody is going to kill that wanker someday,” Logan muttered. “Probably me.”
“Maybe you can sit in as his instructor a time or two during his combat training in the gym,” Gabe said. “Rough him up a little.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Logan said.
Grace held on to the seat as Logan accelerated across four lanes of traffic. Horns blared, and she turned to watch the tail cars scramble to keep up. They exited onto a roundabout that had just enough traffic to make things confusing, and they disappeared into the heart of London, no trace of their followers behind them.
Half an hour later, Logan pulled up to the front gate of the building Gabe owned on Chapel Street. It was six stories of dark red brick and beveled bulletproof windows. Wet ivy drooped in planter boxes and snaked across the front, and a black wrought-iron fence kept pedestrian traffic out, along with the two guards posted on each side of the front door. It was the corner house and she could see another two guards at the side entrance.
“Looks expensive,” Grace said. “Primo location. What’s your cover?”
“Worthington Financial Services,” Gabe said. “It’s solid. Licensed and taxed to the max. Owned by Edgar Harris. Me,” he said, giving her a wolfish grin. “Your cover is Maggie Fitzpatrick, my new analyst. You’ll only need the cover when you go outside the safety of the building. No one’s allowed inside except for agents.”
“Am I staying here?”
“You have an apartment on the sixth floor,” he said. “It’s furnished, and a wardrobe has been supplied.” He looked her up and down, frowning at what he saw. “Though the clothes might be too big. You’ve lost weight.”
She ignored his scrutiny. “I figured you’d take the top floor.”
“I did,” he said, smiling at the mutinous look that crossed her face. “I’m across the hall from you.”
“As long as you stay on your side, we won’t have a problem,” she said.
He smiled and shook his head. “You can’t hide forever, Grace.”
“I find that incredibly ironic coming from you.”
Logan cleared his throat, and they all fell into an uncomfortable silence. The car was scanned, and the wrought-iron gate opened smoothly, allowing them entry into a small courtyard. The gate immediately closed behind them.
Logan parked on the short, graveled drive and turned off the ignition. Grace was out of the car before the entry guard could open the door for her, and Gabe came around and took her by the elbow. She stiffened against his touch, but he held firm as he greeted the head of Worthington Financial’s security team. His guards were mostly ex-military, highly trained, but even they didn’t know who they were really working for.
“Good evening, Mr. Harris,” the guard said. He wore a dark suit and crisp tie and an earpiece was barely visible in his ear. He wasn’t trying to hide the gun at his waist.
“Good evening, George,” Gabe said, nodding formally. “This is Ms. Fitzpatrick. She’ll be joining our team. I’ve already entered her security clearance in the system and she’ll get her badge today.”
“Very good, sir.” George looked Grace over dispassionately, as if memorizing her features, before turning back to his post.
“You’ve got a lot of security,” Grace said, studying the façade of the building. “Cameras, motion detectors, retinal and thumbprint scanners once you get past the guard. Not bad.”
“Financial service is a dangerous business.”
She shrugged. “Ehh, I could still get in.”
“Which is one of the many reasons I want you on my side.”
“Who’s your magic man on the inside? There are a lot of bells and whistles, and I don’t recognize some of it? You’re good, but not that good.”
