Keeping Her Safe Page 4

  “I don’t know that much about investments,” she said, even though she’d already done plenty of research on the Internet. “What exactly do account managers do?”

  Neil opened his mouth to speak, but Brad pulled her away. “Oh no, none of that work talk. This one’s mine, and we’ve got other ground to cover, Gerard.”

  Natalie felt the heat of anger rising within her. She wondered how much of this conversation Vincent had heard. Brad was drinking, and he was getting louder by the minute. “Come on, babe,” he told her. “You’ve met everyone. Now let’s go somewhere and…talk.”

  Four

  Vincent felt like grinding his teeth. The good-looking predator had Natalie in his sights, and he wasn’t about to let her get away.

  “I don’t even have to hear what they’re saying to see that,” Vincent mumbled. Because the man was practically draping his body around Natalie. She didn’t look especially comfortable, either. Especially when the guy led her to a table in the corner of the room.

  For a second, Vincent thought he saw Natalie glance his way, but she turned around just as quickly. Not that it mattered. As a man, he knew all too well what this guy had in mind, and it just wasn’t going to happen. At least not on his watch, Vincent thought, rising and heading back toward that dark corner. Within seconds, he was within hearing range.

  “Here,” the man was saying. “Right here.” He sat down heavily on a stool pulled up to a tall table and dragged another stool close to his. “I’m not really into group togetherness. You’re much too tasty to share.” He smiled at Natalie with that pretty-boy face, his voice slightly slurred. He was urging Natalie toward the stool, which would put her practically right on his lap.

  Fiery anger rolled through Vincent. He hated men who tried to use a physical advantage to coerce a woman. He’d had far too much experience of that kind of thing, and it still hit him right in the gut.

  Fueled by that thought, Vincent took the few steps necessary to reach the small, intimate table. Pretending to be looking elsewhere, he blundered into the stool the guy was trying to muscle Natalie into, bumping it aside.

  “Hey buddy, watch it!” The guy’s voice was that of an on-the-edge drunk. Vincent knew that routine all too well. He’d lived it far too often when he had been growing up, and it wasn’t the indignant lush that concerned him. Instead he turned his attention to Natalie, who had to have been surprised by this turn of events as he had approached the table from behind. Her pretty eyes were big and green and startled. He remembered telling her that he would make himself scarce. Damn.

  “Excuse me, must have been my mistake,” he said to the jerk attempting to seduce Natalie. “I apologize if I created any problems for you,” Vincent added, turning to Natalie. He motioned to the stool that he had somehow knocked two feet away from where the lech had placed it. “Please, be seated,” Vincent said, nodding to Natalie.

  “Yeah, sit here, babe,” the drunkard said and he started to move the stool again.

  Quickly Natalie sat, the stool still a good twelve inches from where the guy had first placed it. Vincent wanted to wink at Natalie but refrained.

  “Thank you,” she said to him softly, “but it really wasn’t necessary.”

  Maybe not to her, but to him? Guys like this one brought out his worst side. But he only shrugged and smiled at her before he started to walk away. For half a second, he thought she smiled back, and warmth spiraled through his body.

  Idiot, he told himself. This woman was a job. That was all she was to him. And as far as she was concerned, he was a necessary nuisance, one she was eager to shed. He’d better do his best to remember that.

  “At last, we got rid of him. Now it’s just us,” Brad said, scooting closer to Natalie. Somehow she held back a sigh and wondered if she was going to get anything at all out of this encounter other than a headache. Immediately, a vision of Vincent glaring at Brad and apologizing to her, his eyes dark and fierce, slipped into her thoughts. Her heartbeat skittered, and she cursed herself. She was here to get information, not start acting ridiculous about a man, especially a man she had no business even thinking about.

  Reluctantly, she turned to Brad. “Tell me about your work,” she coaxed.

  “Work?” he asked, smiling slyly. He slid his hand toward her knee.

  She moved slightly, and he missed. He nearly toppled from his stool. “Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all.

  “No problem. Let’s not even mention work, though,” Brad said. “Like I told Gerard, this night isn’t for work.” He attempted to touch her knee again.

  She evaded him. Again.

  Natalie wanted to scream. Was this night going to be a total bust? “Oh, but I’m fascinated by the word broker. It’s such a powerful term, so masculine.” She leaned forward on her elbows so that her knees were inaccessible. Of course, her breasts were more exposed, but she had fists and she knew how to use them. Not that she wanted to use them. Sooner or later, she wanted this man to either confirm or disprove her suspicions about what was happening to her friends. That wouldn’t happen if she sent him flying. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, hoping that those were the magic words that would get him to stop leering and start talking.

  Brad grinned, leaned back and began to talk. “You’re right, brokering is a very powerful profession. Gets me respect, power, money. Practically everything I want. What I want right now is to see more of you, especially those pretty legs,” he said with a knowing smile. “Come home with me tonight, and I’ll tell you all about the life of a broker, some of my conquests.”

  Somehow, Brad found her knee and squeezed. He started to walk his fingers higher.

  Natalie fought the urge to strike out. Instead, she scooted back and away from his roving hands. She was obviously not going to get any information from Brad Herron tonight. “Whoa, it’s really getting late,” she said, looking at her watch. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed. And tomorrow’s a working day. I have to get home and get some sleep.”

  Brad’s brows nearly touched, he was frowning so hard. But then he almost visibly pulled himself together and smiled. “You’ll be back, won’t you?” It was almost a command rather than a question, the comment of a man who was used to getting his way with women.

  “I might be.” She would be, but it wouldn’t do to appear too eager. It was information she wanted, nothing more. Next time she would come prepared with a better plan.

  He laughed, reaching out quickly as if to grab her again. She dodged as he laughed again. “You’re a fascinating woman. I’ll bet you look great naked.”

  Natalie refrained from decking the guy. Instead she gave him a fake and fleeting smile, said goodbye and did her best to walk calmly toward the door. Just as she was leaving, she saw Neil Gerard from the corner of her eye.

  He smiled shyly in a little-boy kind of way.

  “It was nice to meet you,” she said, and he tugged at his collar self-consciously. “Next time we’ll play pool,” she added, motioning to the cue he held.

  He nodded jerkily and she moved toward the door.

  “Watch yourself, Gerard. I’ve got first dibs,” Brad called, but Natalie could tell he was just making fun of the shyer man. “You wouldn’t know how to handle those legs, anyway.”

  Natalie didn’t look back, but quickly exited the building, letting herself out onto the cool, dark street and heading toward home.

  She was halfway down the block when she heard the noise pick up again, and she guessed that Vincent had left the bar. Immediately she felt an urge to tug on her skirt. Which was completely ridiculous. Her skirt wasn’t even revealing. It wasn’t tight.

  But she could feel Vincent’s eyes on her and she felt suddenly naked, as if he were aware that she was wearing white bikini underpants beneath her clothing. It was a bizarre and unsettling feeling for her. She was used to being in control, the one who called the shots, the one who dictated how things were going to be. Now she felt as if she were spinning in circles, completely
off balance, unable to control anything. Her body felt flushed and hot in a way it hadn’t when Brad was trying to grab her.

  Bad sign if she was lusting after her bodyguard. She didn’t like men, or people for that matter, who hovered.

  She heard a car door slam, an engine rev, and soon Vincent pulled up beside her. “Get in,” he said.

  Oh, that would be such a completely bad idea. Just moments ago, she had been thinking lusty thoughts about him. Closing herself up in the small space of a car wouldn’t help anyone. She shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “It’s a nice night. I’d like to walk.”

  He rubbed one hand over his eyes. “It is, but I don’t feel like having to beat anyone to a pulp tonight. That greasy idiot in the bar was bad enough, but those guys behind you could be dangerous.”

  Natalie turned and saw that there were three men following her down the street. They eyed her with interest.

  “Get rid of that guy, lady. We can pay you more.”

  “Or you can pay us,” the second one said, making kissing sounds at her.

  Natalie’s heart started to drum. It was obvious that, lost in her thoughts, she had been careless. And Vincent was right. Brad she could take down if need be. Three guys who looked as if they fed on fear were something else entirely. And from their vantage point, they couldn’t see Vincent’s size. They weren’t slowing down. She thought one of them might be holding a knife.

  She turned toward the car, but heard rushing footsteps behind her.

  “Not another step,” Vincent ordered the men as he climbed from the car, rolling those impressive shoulders of his and turning to face the men in the street.

  The men hesitated, but they didn’t stop.

  “You want to fight for her, let’s do it,” Vincent said, his voice eerily quiet and deadly. He looked like a man who could kill with his bare hands, and he was twice as big as any of the men he was facing.

  “You think you’re scary?” the guy with the knife asked. “Not a chance. Get her,” he ordered his friends. He ran straight at Vincent, while the other two men headed for Natalie.

  Vincent ignored the guy hurtling his way. Instead, he kicked out at one of Natalie’s pursuers, and there was a crunching sound as his foot connected with bone. Then he whirled, leaving the guy screaming, kicking the man with the knife in the stomach while he brought his elbow up and caught the third man in the neck. Both men fell.

  “Are we done?” Vincent asked, and Natalie wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to the men. She didn’t wait to see. Instead, she got into the car.

  Vincent followed her, leaving the three men struggling to rise. He drove the car in silence for the first few blocks.

  “Have fun back there?” he finally asked.

  “Not especially, no.” She tried not to shiver with revulsion as she thought about Brad grabbing at her or about the three who had awaited her outside.

  “Good. I’m assuming you’re done with the octopus.”

  She breathed in deeply and the scent of Vincent’s aftershave, the scent of man, drifted to her. Natalie closed her eyes and tried to ignore her reaction, which was very definitely female. She hated having those kinds of reactions. It was a weakness, and in her line of work and with her background, she couldn’t afford to be weak. All her life, weakness had been the enemy. She couldn’t let it creep in.

  “I have to go back and see the octopus again. I need information.”

  Vincent swore beneath his breath. “That guy isn’t looking to hand out information. He’s looking to get laid.”

  “I know that. I’m not planning on getting that close.”

  “Is this so important?”

  Was it? Natalie examined what had happened tonight. She had been propositioned, nearly pawed in a sickening and degrading kind of way. She hated that. Frankly, she wanted to do as Vincent asked and turn her back on the whole thing. But then she thought of Mrs. Morgensen and she knew that this job had become more than a job for her. It was much more than a ticket to a hot story and a byline. Her family had never trusted her to get through an entire day on her own. But Mrs. Morgensen and the others trusted her to help them, to salve their wounds, to see that justice was done, to save them. No one had ever needed her in that way. For that alone she cared about her frightened neighbors. She felt such an overwhelming sense of responsibility for each and every one of them. And while she didn’t know if she could save them, she had to try. That was all there was to it. If she didn’t do it, who would? And if she couldn’t do it, then maybe her family had been right all along. No, this was more than a story, more than a career path. Helping her friends was a necessity.

  “Natalie?” Vincent urged.

  She sighed. “These are elderly people, people with very little money to lose, and they’ve had their life savings taken away. I think someone is cheating them.”

  “Then leave it to the police.”

  “The police know about it, but there isn’t any proof whatsoever. Old people lose their money every day. They get taken advantage of. No one can do anything about it if there isn’t any proof.”

  “And you intend to get that proof. You want to stop covering Beep-Beep the Clown.”

  She glared at him. “Actually, Beep-Beep was a pretty nice guy in his way, but yes, I’d like to do something more meaningful.”

  “And you’re willing to put yourself in danger for a story.”

  She refused to explain about her bonds with Mrs. Morgensen and the details of her problems with her family. That wasn’t anyone’s business but her own. Besides, she didn’t want anyone thinking she was soft in any way.

  “That’s what reporters do,” she said, trying to sound as hard-boiled as possible.

  “And to hell with the risks? To hell with everything? Including your own feelings about being some man’s toy?”

  No, that was part of her problem. She couldn’t seem to put the emotional aspects of this case aside. She was already too personally involved with this story, but Mrs. Morgensen and her other neighbors were real people who hurt and dreamed and cried. She was supposed to be able to turn the emotion off and just write, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t good for a reporter to get entangled with her subjects. She knew that.

  “Natalie?”

  “I can handle my feelings,” she lied.

  “Can you deal with what’s going to happen if those two men both decide they have to have you? Can you handle the fallout and the risks?”

  “I’m not going to lead anyone on. I’ll keep it light.”

  “What if you can’t? Men can be animals.” He practically growled the words, his voice deep and husky. Natalie shivered. Anger and passion were so closely related. She couldn’t help wondering what that voice would sound like in a bed in the dark of night.

  “It’s not going to get that far,” she insisted. “I know how to protect myself and how to call a halt to things.”

  “Some men get ugly when a woman calls a halt to things. Don’t do this, Natalie. I’m trying to keep you safe. Don’t make it harder. You’re already getting threatening notes. Don’t add another element by pursuing these men. The story would be just as compelling if you simply wrote Mrs. Morgensen’s story.”

  He was probably right. “But there wouldn’t be any chance of justice. I want her to have justice. Do you understand?”

  When she turned to him, his eyes were like dark flames. “I understand the desire for justice. Very much so.” His voice was a promise, harsh and full of pain she didn’t understand. She felt a sudden urge to touch him, to soothe him.

  She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, what his personal stake in justice was.

  But he reached out and touched one finger to her lips, startling her. Her body reacted and she almost leaned forward to get closer and feel more as he pulled away. “You need some sleep,” he growled, and she knew that he wasn’t going to give up any secrets to her. Maybe he didn’t trust her not to turn him into another feature story, or maybe he just didn’t like her
all that much. She was, after all, a client his brother had foisted on him.

  A slow, disappointing ache slipped through her. That was too darn bad. Because Vincent Fortune was exactly the macho type of man she needed to stay away from.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t ask about your personal life.”

  He gave her a slow smile. “And you’ll be more careful than you were tonight?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I didn’t like that guy.”

  She didn’t have to ask what guy he was talking about. Neil had barely said a word. “I didn’t like him much myself.”

  Vincent chuckled. “He did get one thing right, though. Nice legs,” he said as he pulled up in front of her house and came around to open her door. “I’d be more careful slipping out of windows if I were you.”

  Her eyes opened wide and she blinked. Vincent laughed again. “Ah, not as hard-boiled as you like to pretend, are you, Natalie?”

  She managed a challenging smile as she got out of the car and stood beside him. “I’m many things, Vincent, and hard-boiled is just one of them. Nice biceps,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “I’d be more careful knocking the stuffing out the bad guys. Your muscles show.” She took a deep breath and dared to wink at him.

  Vincent’s eyes turned dark, but then he laughed. “All right, one for you,” he admitted with a touch of admiration in his voice as she turned and walked to her door, the sound of Vincent’s heels on the pavement close behind her.

  All the time that Natalie was moving down the hall to her apartment, opening her door, letting herself in, and saying goodnight and locking the door behind her, she was incredibly aware that Vincent was watching her every move. She might be his client, but she remembered that look in his eyes and realized that he didn’t think of her as just a job. He also saw her as a woman.

  And that made her feel like a woman, soft and desirable and…frustrated, because she couldn’t ever touch or be touched by Vincent Fortune.

  “No, one for you, Vincent,” she admitted with a sigh once she was safely inside. One of them was going to go sleepless tonight, and it wasn’t Vincent. Derek Seefer would be taking over his duties in an hour. Vincent would go home and sleep like all men slept, like her fathers and brothers had slept. No matter what happened, they managed to sleep soundly.