“Good, good!” Leigh all but clapped. “Was it hot and heavy?”
Fiona nodded. “Honestly, I now believe in love at first sight.” She looked down, swallowing hard, hoping she wasn’t coming off as overly dramatic. “I think Jake does, too. I know it’s sudden, but I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.”
Watching her, Leigh took another deep drink of wine. “That’s perfect. I’m absolutely thrilled and beyond happy for the both of you. Believe me, Micheline will be as well.”
Which meant they hoped to use her connection to Jake as leverage. While she still had no idea what exactly Micheline might be planning, or even if it was a singular event, since the revelations had started leaking about Ace Colton, she imagine Micheline’s jig was nearly up. That’s why she couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be very bad, truly awful. Catastrophic, even. A chill snaked up her spine. As long as she could get Leigh and Micheline to consider her as part of their inner circle, she stood a chance to stop the AAG.
Overexaggerating a yawn, which she covered with her hand, Fiona sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a crazy, long day. Though I’d love to stay and chat longer, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take myself to my room and get ready for bed.”
“Sure, go ahead and get some rest.” Still smiling, Leigh poured herself a generous second glass of red wine. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
As she walked back to her room, Fiona wondered if it was too late to stop by Jake’s room and warn him. Her heart skipped a beat as she pictured him getting up from his bed, wearing only a pair of boxers low on his hips, his hair mussed and his sleepy eyes warming with heat at the sight of her.
Professional, she reminded herself. She needed to maintain her distance.
Though her steps slowed in the hall outside her room, with his right across the way, she forced herself to continue on inside her own space and close the door.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror, flushed and breathing fast. Turned on. “Not now, Evans,” she cautioned herself, sotto voce. Continuing on into the bathroom, she washed the makeup off her face and brushed her teeth. She rummaged around in her dresser drawer, pulling out the old, soft T-shirt she often slept in.
Finally, she crawled between her sheets and clicked off the light.
The next morning, she got up early and meditated for her usual twenty minutes before showering. After drying her hair, she made a valid attempt to duplicate the makeup style that Leigh had used, but finally scrubbed it all off and redid her face in her usual, understated way.
In the cafeteria, she had her usual yogurt and fruit, along with a cup of strong coffee. She liked getting up this early, as it often turned out to be the only time she had to herself. Neither Leigh nor Micheline ever showed their face before eight. Fiona imagined they were still asleep at five thirty. She’d always been a morning person and, despite not having a concrete agenda, she liked to be ready for whatever tasks they might throw at her.
She poured herself a second cup of coffee and carried it outside to the front porch. Her favorite time of the day, no matter the season, was before sunrise, when the birds gradually came awake and the nighttime creatures went silent.
Peaceful. In a career like hers, she needed to steal small, steadying moments when she could. She took a sip of her coffee before heading over to one of the large rocking chairs.
About to sit, a sound, a blur of motion to her right had her swinging around, almost too late. A large shape launched itself at her, sending her coffee cup flying. It shattered on the wood porch.
At least her hands were free. She crouched, instinctively taking a defensive position. Large man, clumsy. Familiar, too. She launched herself forward. The top of her head caught her attacker in his large stomach, hard enough to knock the breath from him. The guy from yesterday, she realized. Ron Underhill.
Wheezing as he rasped for air, he stumbled, nearly going down. He grabbed the porch railing to pull himself up, still trying to get air. If she followed through right now, she could take him out quickly.
Instead, for some reason, she hesitated a bit too long. Long enough for him to catch a second wind. He pushed himself up, rounding on her, gulping in air. “Bitch,” he snarled, still panting. “You’re going to pay for what you cost me.”
Damn, she wished she had her firearm. Since she didn’t—couldn’t, since packing heat would completely blow her cover—she’d have to take t
his guy down with her bare hands. Which might also blow her cover, though she had no choice.
Moving fairly fast for a guy with so much bulk, Underhill tried to rush her again. Too slow, though. Right before he reached her, she twisted, just enough to use her shoulder to knock him off balance. A swift kick took his legs out from under him, sending him crashing hard into the rail. He yelped in pain.
“Stay down,” she ordered. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“What the hell?” a voice said from the doorway. Jake, his voice as hard as his gaze. He stepped forward, eyeing her as if she’d donned a superhero costume. He might have been able to convince himself that what he saw her do yesterday had been a fluke, but twice would really be stretching it.
Several other men pushed their way out behind him, crowding around her, forming a protective circle between her and Underhill. At first, she thought they were protecting him from her, but then she realized they believed they were doing the opposite.
As if she needed their help. Since she needed to stay in character, undercover, she managed to arrange her face in what she hoped was a terrified expression. “Don’t let him get away,” she urged. “He attacked another new member yesterday, too.”
Bart Akers pushed his way through the group. “Fiona?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
She simpered up at the brawny blond security man. “I’m better now that you’re here.”
Bart grabbed Underhill and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. “You’re coming with me.”
“Not to the cells,” Underhill pleaded. “Let me go and I promise I’ll clear out of here. You have my word that you’ll never see me again.”