Читать книгу Full Force - Elle James - Страница 13

They’d gone maybe a little more than a mile when Mustang pulled off at a large, impressive stone wall and wrought-iron gate. Declan’s truck had just pulled through onto the estate and he waved his hand out the window for them to follow.

Mustang drove through and the gate closed slowly behind them.

Emily had heard Grace talk about her new employer, Charlie, or Charlotte Halverson, the widow of a wealthy philanthropist. Grace had gone on and on about the beautiful estate and how kind and caring her employer was to her collection of employees.

Having been the most recent recipient of Charlie’s kindness, Emily was anxious to meet the woman. If Charlie had not sent Mustang out to help, Emily was absolutely certain she would not be alive to appreciate the beauty of Charlie’s estate at that moment.

She glanced toward the man beside her, studying him in the light from the dash.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a ruggedly handsome face. Something about his stoic countenance tugged deeply at Emily’s insides. Or perhaps she was just grateful he’d arrived when he had and saved her from being shot. Either way, she felt closer to this man than any other stranger she had ever met.

Chills rippled through Emily. She fought to keep her teeth from chattering. Her clothes were damp, and she smelled like swamp water, but she couldn’t help that.

“S-s-so you work for Charlie?” she asked.

Mustang gave a curt nod. “Yeah.”

“W-w-what do you do for her?” Emily wrapped her hands around her arms and shivered in her seat.

He adjusted the thermostat on the dash to make it blow blessedly warm air. “She hired Declan and then he brought the rest of our team on board. I guess you could say we are kind of a security agency.”

“Does the agency have a name?” Emily asked.

Mustang smiled. “Declan’s Defenders.”

“So, Declan is your leader?” Emily asked.

Mustang nodded. “He was our team lead before. It just seemed natural for him to be lead of Declan’s Defenders.”

“Before?” Emily stared across the console at the man driving.

Mustang’s jaw tightened. “We were in the marines together.”

Emily nodded silently. She should have recognized his military bearing. The man didn’t have an ounce of flab or fat on him. And when he stood, he held himself straight, shoulders back and head held high, the countenance and bearing of someone who had been in the military, living under strict rules and guidelines.

Mustang shot a glance her way. “So what did you do to piss someone off enough that they want to kill you?”

Emily shook her head. “I have no idea,” she said.

“I seriously doubt it was a case of road rage,” Mustang noted.

Emily snorted. “Well, if it was road rage, he did a good job of it. He ran me off the road.”

“And chased you down with a gun.” Mustang’s brows dipped. “If I’m not mistaken, that man spoke Russian. And when I tackled you, you spoke in Russian, as well. What’s up with that?”

Emily ran a hand through her hair and stared out the window beside her. “I’m a Russian interpreter. No, I’m not Russian, I’m American, but I studied Russian in high school and college. I also studied abroad in Moscow for a semester. Now I teach Russian at Georgetown and I translate for people who speak Russian.”

“Was the guy who tried to kill you one of the clients you translated for?”

Emily pressed her lips together. “You know as much as I do. The man wore a ski mask. I couldn’t tell you if he was one of my clients.” A shiver shook Emily so hard her teeth rattled.

Mustang glanced at her again. “You’re cold.”

She nodded.

“Sorry, I should have given you this earlier.” He reached over the back of the seat, grabbed a blanket and threw it across her lap. “Wrap yourself in that. You need to warm up.”

Emily picked at the blanket. “I hate to get it all wet and smelly.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

Mustang followed Declan’s taillights as they twisted and turned on the tree-lined road leading to Charlotte Halverson’s massive mansion.

Emily wrapped the blanket around her lap, thankful for the warmth. She would be sure to wash and return it when she got back to her apartment. Then she’d begin the hassle of getting her car repaired or replaced. In the meantime she was dependent on Charlotte Halverson and Declan’s Defenders to get her around. And she was thankful they’d come through for her when she’d needed them.

As they pulled up in front of the three-story mansion with its many gables and arches, several men descended the marble staircase from the front door. Three women followed, one of whom Emily recognized as Grace. And the other, her friend Riley. The front porch lights shone down on the third woman’s gray hair. That had to be Charlotte Halverson. Emily had seen pictures of her in the news and in the papers.

Mustang pulled to a stop and shifted into Park. Before he could get out and around to the other side of the truck, the door opened and Declan held out his hand for her.

Emily pushed the blanket off her lap and accepted the assistance to get down from the truck.

Grace, the first woman to reach her, wrapped her in her arms. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“I’m okay. Mustang got there in time.” Emily briefly hugged her back and then pulled away. “Sorry. I’m soaked and I’m sure I smell.”

Grace’s brow furrowed as she held Emily at arm’s length and raked her gaze over her from head to toe. “What happened?”

“We’ll fill you all in when Emily’s had a chance to get out of those damp clothes,” Mustang said.

“Right.” Grace hooked Emily’s arm. “We’ll find you something to wear. I have enough clothes here, I might as well move in permanently.”

The gray-haired woman stepped forward. “I’ve left an open invitation for you and Declan to take the west wing.”

Grace smiled at her employer. “Charlie, this is my friend, Emily. Emily, meet Charlotte Halverson, my new boss.”

Emily held out her hand. “Nice to m-meet y-you,” she said, her teeth rattling. “And th-thank y-you.”

“Oh, pish.” Charlie took Emily’s hand and frowned. “Your hands are like ice. Inside. Now.” She grabbed Emily’s other elbow and marched her up the steps. The door opened as if automatically.

Once inside, Emily saw a man dressed in a suit, holding the door handle, standing at attention.

“That’s Arnold, my butler,” Charlie said. “Don’t let him intimidate you. I can’t get him to wear anything but a suit.” She winked at Arnold as she passed him. “But I can’t live without him, so he gets his way more often than not. Isn’t that right, Arnold?”

“Yes, Mrs. Halverson.” Arnold gave her a slight bow.

“Charlie. I’ve told you to call me Charlie.”

Without changing his expression the butler nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Charlie shook her head and gave a wry grin to Emily. “Please, call me Charlie. Mrs. Halverson was my husband’s mother.”

Emily forced a smile past her chattering teeth. “Charlie,” she repeated softly.

“Mrs. Halverson, would you like me to escort your guest to a bedroom?” Albert asked in his flat, expressionless tone.

Charlie waved a hand. “No need. Grace and I will take her.” She charged across a smooth white-marble foyer and started up the stairs.

Feeling like she was being dragged along by a freight train, Emily looked back over her shoulder, her gaze searching for and finding Mustang’s.

“I’ll be here when you get cleaned up,” he said.

She gave him a quick smile and followed Charlie up the stairs, Grace bringing up the rear. Why she should be relieved Mustang was staying, she didn’t know. Surrounded by Grace and Charlie, Emily should feel reassured. However she’d never had a man point a gun at her, much less discharge it in an attempt to kill her.

Mustang had been the one to save her. She felt confident that if her attacker tried again to kill her, Mustang would keep him from succeeding. Knowing he was sticking around made her feel much better.

Although Emily had been in a number of posh hotels and opulent embassies, she’d never been inside a multimillionaire’s mansion. Everywhere she looked, what appeared to be priceless objects were perched on tables, in alcoves and hung on the walls. She imagined she could pay her rent for a year with even one of the vases or paintings.

Charlie turned right at the top of the staircase. “You can stay in the Banyan Room while you’re here.”

“Thank you. But as soon as I can, I’d like to return to my apartment.”

Grace grabbed Emily’s arm. “Sweetie, you can’t go back to your apartment as long as that maniac is still out there.”

Charlie nodded. “Agreed. And I have plenty of empty rooms. You’ll stay here.” Her tone didn’t allow for argument.

But Emily couldn’t put her life on hold. “I have a job. I work at the university. I have students to teach.”

Charlie shook her head. “Honey, you can’t teach if you’re dead.”

A lead weight settled at the pit of Emily’s belly.

“And if you show up at the university, who’s to say your attacker won’t show up, as well?” Grace added. “You would be putting your students at risk of being caught in the crossfire.”

The lead weight twisted in Emily’s gut. They were right. “But I can’t hide here forever. I have bills to pay.”

“Then we’ll have to figure out who attacked you.”

“You can’t do it on your own. I’m the only one who knows my life. I won’t stand by and let others put themselves at risk for me.”

“Then I’ll assign one of Declan’s Defenders to protect you and help you figure out who has it in for you.” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “In the meantime, you need a safe place to sleep. Your apartment isn’t that place. I have enough security wired into this estate, you won’t have to worry about anyone getting in.”

Emily smiled and hugged Charlie. “Thank you. If you hadn’t sent Mustang to help me, I wouldn’t even be here to have this conversation.”

“Any one of Declan’s Defenders would have done the same. But since Mustang saved your life, he now has a vested interest in keeping you alive.” Charlie waved toward the room. “While you get cleaned up, I’ll have a word with Declan about assigning Mustang to protect you.”

Warmth spread through Emily’s body, loosening the knot in her stomach. Despite her desire to get back to work, she didn’t want to put herself or her students in danger.

Charlie left Emily and Grace and headed for the staircase.

Grace chuckled. “Charlie is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Yes, she is,” Emily agreed.

“But she has a heart of gold and would do anything for you.” Grace touched Emily’s shoulder, guiding her to the other side of the bedroom where a door led to an attached bathroom. “While you get a shower, I’ll gather some of my clothes.”

Tears filled Emily’s eyes. “Thank you, Grace. You saved my life.”

Grace laughed. “I didn’t save your life. Mustang did.”

“Because you had him sent to me.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more afraid in my life.”

“Honey, I know what you mean,” Grace said, her voice tight, her lips pressing together briefly. “I’ve been there.”

Emily nodded. “Yes, you were. Back when Riley went missing.”

“Declan was there when I needed him. He and his men went to bat for me, and for Riley when things got sticky for her, too. They’ll help you. And Mustang’s a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

“I want to say I don’t need anyone to take care of me but...” A shiver shook her wet frame. “Apparently I do. I’ve never had a man shoot at me or hold a gun to my head.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Grace pulled Emily’s bedraggled form into her arms. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Hopefully the team can help figure out who did this to you and why.” She turned Emily and gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the bathroom. “For now, get cleaned up and warm. Everything will look better once you are.”

“Thank you, Grace.” Emily entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaning against it to keep from falling. Another shiver shook her, and another, until her entire body quaked with the tremors. She knew it was shock setting in. If she didn’t get into a warm shower soon, she didn’t know what would happen. She could pass out or die from hypothermia. After Mustang went to the effort of saving her, that would be a crappy way to repay him.

She pushed away from the door and took stock of the beautiful bathroom. Six of her apartment bathrooms could fit in the space. White quartz counters and sinks shone, sparkling clean. A large bathtub invited the guest to fill it full of warm water, bath salts and oils. Bypassing the tub, Emily walked to the shower, turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm.

Her hands shook as she stripped out of her wet clothing and dropped the garments to the smooth, tiled floor.

When the water was warmer than her skin, she stepped beneath it and let it run over her head, shoulders and the length of her body. As the heat chased away the chills, she squirted a liberal amount of shampoo into her palm and smoothed it over her hair, digging her fingers in, determined to wash away the smell of stagnant water.

Emily leaned her head back, closed her eyes and let the water sluice over her. As the soap bubbles slid down over her breasts, a sudden image intruded on her thoughts. An erotic scene, completely at odds with the suspenseful one she’d just lived through. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, but she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. One of Mustang rubbing his hands together to create lather and smoothing them all over her body.

Shocked by her own imagination, Emily opened her eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. She had to be having some kind of post-traumatic lust for the man who’d saved her. She didn’t know Mustang from Adam. He could be married, for all she knew. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She could be having lustful thoughts over a married man.

Grabbing the bottle of body wash, she completed her shower in record time, scrubbing every inch of her skin to remove traces of mud and ditch water.

When she emerged from the shower, she found a neat stack of clothing on the counter and a fluffy white towel.

She smiled at Grace’s thoughtfulness.

Her lips turned down as she dressed. How could she face Mustang when she’d just been thinking about him naked?