She shook her head. “I’m not wearing any underwear, Ian. You told me I wasn’t allowed to. It’s made packing so much easier.”
He gripped her wrist and started hauling her out of the building.
He seemed to be under some kind of impression that she had dignity to protect or something. Dignity didn’t mean crap to her. She planted her feet. Unfortunately, the smooth marble surface helped her to slide right along.
“Out you go, Charlie. If I see you here again, I’ll call the cops. And you should understand my first call when I get back upstairs is going to be to my lawyer. If we’re still married, honey, we’re getting a divorce.”
“I don’t want a divorce, Ian.”
“I don’t care what you want.” He used one broad shoulder to open the glass doors, letting in a blast of pure Texas heat.
Charlie stumbled a little as her feet went from marble to concrete. Ian cursed and caught her before her ass found the ground. “Ian, please. Let’s talk about this. I can prove I’m not working for Eli Nelson.”
He made sure she was steady on her feet before moving away again. “No, you can’t.”
“There has to be something.” She wasn’t sure he would believe her if God came down and whacked him over his very masculine forehead with the truth. Her righteously paranoid husband would just decide that the heavenly father was a double agent sent to kill him. “Ian, you have to trust your instincts. Look at the data in front of you. Read what I’ve sent you. Look at it dispassionately and then form a logical conclusion. You’re the smartest man I’ve ever met.”
“Follow my instincts? I did that once. I shoved all the facts aside and followed my instincts. That’s how I lost my job and I damn near lost my life. You taught me that lesson, Charlie. Good-bye.”
He started to turn away, and Charlie felt her heart squeeze.
He stared for a moment, his eyes on the door, and then she saw it. A single glint off the metal handle.
“Get the fuck down!” Ian yelled, his body moving with predatory grace.
He hit her with the impact of a locomotive, and she found herself tackled and thrown to the ground just as the bullets started flying.
Chapter Four
Ian gritted his teeth hard as his shoulder hit the concrete. He rolled to the left, tucking Charlie close to his body as he tried to maneuver them to the trees that lined the walkway.
Panic was spreading. The minute the shot rang out, there were screams and shouts, and the people who had been milling around in front of the building had scattered.
He wasn’t carrying. What the hell had he been thinking? Charlie had his head in a mess.
“Ian, are you all right?” At least she was calm. Most women Ian knew would be screaming by now. They would be fighting him. But Charlie had completely relaxed in his arms, making it easy for him to roll her out of harm’s way. She’d trusted him to take care of her.
“I’m not hit if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Boss?” Jacob Dean was suddenly at his side, and he hadn’t forgotten his firearm.
“I thought I told you to stay upstairs.” Ian brought his head up. There was a row of oleanders to his left. They were roughly four feet tall and thick. They would suit his purposes nicely. “Get us some cover. He’s probably done, but I can’t take the chance.”
Because the minute he’d seen the glint of a scope reflecting off the window, he’d had a vision of Charlie lying in a pool of her own blood. Was this just his fate? To always see her like that?
Jake moved, his gun at the ready. He placed himself in danger so Ian didn’t have to put Charlie there. “I think he’s done, too, boss. The cops are already on their way. Move, now.”
Ian was up on his feet, but he kept his head down and covered Charlie as he lifted her up. Three long strides and they were safely behind the bushes. Trees were at their backs. If the fucker wanted to take a shot now, he would have to get damn lucky.
“Adam’s already pulling the security tapes. The cops will want them because they’re going to try to identify who the intended victim is. Standard procedure. I figured we should keep Mrs. Taggart’s face out of the papers since she’s probably got a couple of agencies looking for her.”
Fuck. He hadn’t even thought about that. In the distance, he could hear sirens wailing.
“She’s not Mrs. Taggart,” Ian said, his teeth locked in a grind.
“I have the papers to prove it,” Charlie replied.
There was no point in arguing now. They didn’t have the time.
“So who’s trying to kill you, Charlie?” There was no doubt in his mind this was all about her.
“Maybe someone was trying to kill you,” Charlie shot back, a frown turning those gorgeous lips down. “Have you met yourself? I can think of any number of people who you’ve pissed off enough to try their hand at a little assassination.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong, but Ian knew damn well this wasn’t about him. “Charlie? The cops will be here any minute. How much do I have to lie to them?”
She shook her head. “Not at all because you don’t actually know anything.”
How could he go from saving her life to wanting to strangle her in less than ten seconds? “You are going to go back upstairs with Jacob because god only knows what the cops have on you. You’re going to my office and you will stay there. Is that understood?”
The sweetest smile flashed across her face. “Yes, Master. I will absolutely obey that dictate. Jacob?”
Jake helped her up. “I’ll take her through the back. I think I can make it without losing cover. Adam will shut down the cameras, and he’s already got a call in to Brighton.”
Derek Brighton was their DPD contact. He was also a Dom at Sanctum. If Ian was going to have a chance of not getting Charlie involved in this, he would need Derek.
He watched as Charlie followed behind Jake. She was calm and collected. No one would ever think she’d damn near had her head taken off by a sniper.
It wasn’t sexy. Nope. It was annoying. He tried to tell himself he would like it better if she was one of those women who would scream and cry and be terrified.
He found those women to be deeply annoying.
That was it. He never really loved her. He just liked the fact that she was quiet during a shootout. Yeah. That had to be it.
Just as Charlie disappeared into the maintenance door, the cops showed up, sirens wailing, tires screeching. They couldn’t be quiet during a shootout either.
But they could fuck everything up.
Ian couldn’t let that happen. This had just become his op.
Two hours later, he was finally able to go back to his office, having convinced the officers that it must have been a car misfiring since there was only the one sound. People, he’d told the officers, were just too jumpy these days.
While the police were talking down frightened onlookers, Alex had already found the bullet and started his own investigation.
“I want to know where the fucker was, what he was shooting, and who he fucking works for,” Ian said, walking into the conference room.
Adam was sitting in the back, his head down as he typed. Jake and Alex were staring at a bullet casing through the plastic bag it was held in.
Grace was holding Phoebe’s hand as she breathed in through her inhaler. She sent Ian a dirty look. “Really, Ian? What is wrong with you? You made her walk up fifteen flights of steps?”
“I didn’t make her do anything. She took one look at the elevator and ran the other way.” Again, another reason to prefer Charlie. Phoebe was a pretty woman. She had curves in all the right places, though she attempted to hide them all. She pretended to be frumpy, but there was a lovely body under all those clothes. Unfortunately, she also seemed to have a ton of fucking inhibitions. If he’d told Charlie she was late, she would have shot him the finger and gotten on the elevator.