Roman Aiza is the second born son of the Aiza clan. He also owns and operates a private security company and has an ongoing contract with one of Florida's most influential residents. He is patrolling at a party when he encounters a woman who will haunt him. A woman who at their first meeting, manages to walk right out of his hands when he follows her for trespassing. She manages to do this without giving Roman a single reason why she is in the depths of the house he is protecting. When he does finally locate her days later, his goal is to prove that his instincts are wrong. She is not the woman that all of his senses are clamoring for.
When the daughter of Roman's largest and closest account is kidnapped and held for ransom, will they be able to build a trust between them? Or will their own secrets keep them apart?
His wide chest rose and fell before her as he continued talking. “Ten-four. I’ve located the stray. Negative, questioning. I’ll report to base when she’s escorted off property. Out.”
He returned her stare without blinking, steely, black, and unrelenting as he towered over her. In heels she was six-one, and he was looking down at her.
“Not scared at all, are you?” he taunted, silkily.
She restrained the flip remark that bounced to her tongue. She didn’t know him well enough to start giving him that much hell.
“You’ll have to talk eventually, when the police book you,” he pointed out. His gaze sparked with impatience at her when her only reaction was to sigh, absolutely unconcerned. The tension in his frame relaxed a little, attempting tact since he wasn’t getting anywhere. “All right, let’s do this. I’ll give you full immunity—a get-out-of-jail-free card—if you tell me what you were doing in here.”
She stared at him for a full heartbeat, then blinked. Who the hell does he think he’s kidding? She almost choked on the bubble of laughter that sprang up. He had to be kidding. Had to be.
“My God, a reaction. So you aren’t made of stone,” he said, a low vibrating tone of voice she knew was supposed to be intimidating. “Look, either way you’re done for the night. Either tell me now, or tell the police in fifteen. I don’t care.”
Something about his voice and the relaxed stance of his posture told her this was her chance. It was as good as any other to get out unscathed.
“I can’t. Confidentiality. And you need to work on your lying.”
His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at her. “You can’t?”
She nodded. “But I wasn’t stealing. I’ll leave now.” She started to walk around him, but his hand shot out and captured her before she’d taken a full step.
“What were you doing in here?” He growled low.
She returned it with an icy stare of her own. “Don’t back out on your word. I told you, and now I’m leaving.”
“Sorry, honey. That’s not gonna fly,” he told her with a promised threat right underneath the rolled timbre of his voice. “All you told me was what you claim you weren’t doing. That’s not good enough.”
She counted to three, silently sorry she was going to have to sack the poor guy. The move was never expected, and that always gave her the leverage. Even as the apology filtered through her thoughts, she twisted and jerked his balance off, centering hers to throw him over her shoulder. He landed with a smacking thud, followed by a gusted groan.
“I said, yes I am,” she told him, sauntering out of the room, calmly closing the door on his shocked expression. She had no idea if she would even make it out the front door now, but she was going to try. Surprisingly, even though she sensed eyes on her, no one blocked her escape. She relaxed in increments watching the house shrink in the rearview mirror, a grateful exhale for nerves of steel as she drove away from the valet lot where her Mercedes Roadster was parked.
She’d walked out, right out of his hands. Mission accomplished. She hoped in the next few days it was worth it. Regardless of how little she’d let him bother her, Frankenstein’s son was a handful. She drove with the image of him flat on his back, his dark eyes stunned wide, and sent him another silent apology.
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