Never Mine by Clare Connelly
Chapter 1
“ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO DAMNED way.”
Maxine Fortescue’s eyes were the most striking shade of green, like the froth of the ocean on the silver sands of the beach on a blustery afternoon. They moved with icy disdain from the figure of her brother, Grayson, to his best friend Noah, an accusation in the line of her features as she shook her head. Her face was pale, her lips rimmed with white as she compressed them in a visible indication of tension.
“You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Noah folded his arms over his chest – a broad chest that, even through the good quality cotton of his button-down shirt showed well-defined pectorals. He was aware of Max’s gaze dropping instinctively, before firing back to his eyes.
“I told her we’d need to change up the arrangements,” Gray responded with an indolent shrug.
“I thought you meant a review of our existing security.” Max reached for a button on her phone and pressed it. A moment later, a woman appeared, dressed in a black pencil skirt and cream silk blouse, her dark hair pinned into a sleek bun at her neck.
The tension lifted for a moment and Maxine smiled. “Good morning, Rachel.”
“Max.” The woman’s nod was the last word in efficiency. “Would you like a coffee?”
“Thirty, actually,” Maxine responded in the same droll tone her brother used when he wanted to deflect attention from the seriousness of his mood. “Or one very, very strong one.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Gray?” Her gaze travelled back to Noah’s face. “And I’m sorry, what did you say your name is?”
He bit back a sarcastic smile, because it was such an obvious play. He knew, from the research he’d conducted on the flight over, that she was far too brilliant, focused and professional to have forgotten his name.
“Noah.”
“Right. Noah Storm,” she drawled his last name with a hint of cynicism, as though he’d made up the moniker.
His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “I’ll take a black coffee,” he turned to face the brunette. “Thank you, Rachel.”
He hadn’t intended to make a point, to show that remembering names was a simple courtesy, but a hint of colour fired in Max’s cheek anyway.
“I know you and my brother are friends,” she softened her tone with obvious effort, apparently trying a different tack. “And if we were meeting under any other circumstances, I’d be delighted to know more about you. But this has been a ridiculously crazy twenty-four hours and I’m tired, and irritated, and frankly sick of being told what to do. I understand you’re worried,” she pivoted back to Gray. “But I’m under control. This guy, whoever he is, hasn’t really got close to me. I know the car thing is…new,” she said, only the way she pressed her fingers into the surface of her desk, so hard the tips of her nails went white, betraying the anxiety behind her casually-delivered explanation. “It just means I have to change things up a bit. I’m in Paris tomorrow, anyway.”
“And so might he be,” Grayson responded flatly. “I’m sorry, Max, this is non-negotiable.”
Anger whipped around the room, unmistakable. “Says who? You don’t get to decide this unilaterally.”
“You need protection, and I can’t do it. I can’t keep you safe.” Gray strode towards the desk, moving around it in three easy steps and putting his hands on Maxine’s forearms, turning her to face him. “I have tried. I have hired different security firms, bought new monitoring equipment, everything I can think of, but the truth is, I just can’t catch this son of a bitch.”
“And he can?” She challenged.
The door opened again as Rachel returned carrying a tray with three coffees and a plate of biscuits. Noah moved towards the door on autopilot, catching it to hold it open for her. Her eyes flicked over him with an obviously assessing glint – a response he was used to. At thirty four years of age, he was familiar with the effect he had on women, an affect he’d started to notice and appreciate as a boy of just sixteen. He knew it would take very little to charm Rachel, to wrap her around his little finger until she was eating out of the palm of his hand. If he were so inclined. But he wasn’t.
This wasn’t a pleasure trip, it was business, and Gray needed Noah to make this work.
He turned back to Max, wishing there was a way he could avoid going for the jugular so soon – if at all. But his initial instincts had only strengthened as he’d familiarized himself with the material Gray’s head of security had emailed over.
“A month ago, you received this postcard from your stalker, right?” Noah asked, as Rachel left the room. He held up a picture from the file, a bright photograph of a butterfly with a chilling message on the back: so much prettier when trapped in glass, not flying free.
Max barely looked at the postcard. “Yes.”
“I see they spent a fair amount of time looking into the Miami connection.”
“Because of the postmark,” she pointed out crisply.
“It’s fake.”
Gray stiffened. “How do you know?”
“Because of the insignia. See?” He pulled his phone out as a point of reference, showcasing the subtle but appreciable differences. “This wasn’t posted from Miami, and given the lack of other postmarks, it wasn’t sent via mail at all. Which means it was hand delivered.”
Max did an excellent job of maintaining an unruffled expression, but again, it was her hands that gave her away. They lifted to a necklace she wore, a diamond shaped more like a crystal, long and angular; she ran it over the chain from side to side, her lips pursed.
Beside her, Gray swore.
“We already knew he had my home address,” she responded quietly, the words brave when he could tell she was terrified. “It’s no worse than that.”
“He was in your damned street, Max, completely undetected. Another way he’s evaded our security. Surveillance. Who the hell is this?”
“And what does he want?” Noah responded, his eyes narrowing as he studied Max. She met his gaze fiercely, her chin angled with a determination he admired.
“If the way he slashed my car up is any indication, I’d say he wants to kill me.”
Noah was no longer aware of Gray in the room. He saw her fear, her acceptance of the fact she was a hunted animal, and he knew the time was right to throw her a lifeline, to offer her a way to escape – but he also knew that the decision to take it had to be hers.
“I will help you, Maxine. I will keep you safe. But only if you let me.”
“I have security,” she responded, the words firm even when her voice was quiet.
“I’m not like normal security. For the next month, or as long as it takes to apprehend your stalker, I will be your shadow. You will hate the sight of me. At the end of it, I will hate the sight of you. But you’ll be alive, safe, and he’ll be behind bars. Is that what you want?”
Her lips parted, the brutal description of what their working relationship would be obviously jarring.
“I presume you’re exaggerating for effect,” she said after a beat.
“I never exaggerate.”
“I don’t want a shadow.”
“That’s the way this works.”
“Max, listen to him,” Gray interrupted, but Noah shot his friend a warning look. This had to be a deal struck between Maxine and himself. He couldn’t protect a person if they resented his presence, if they tried to lose him or confuse him. This required total cooperation.
“I am listening,” she responded, taking a long drink of her coffee then turning, moving to the windows that framed a picture-perfect view of London, the Thames a glittering snake slithering with lazy indolence through its center. In profile, Maxine was, somehow, even more striking than in photographs, her beauty ethereal and compelling, her slender body stirring every masculine instinct Noah possessed to life.
“Your life will be an open book to me for as long as I protect you.” His voice was deep and gruff. “Every email, every call, every interaction I will know about.”
She whirled around, the look of being hunted growing stronger. “So I’m trading in one stalker for another?”
“I have no interest in killing you,” Noah said with firm honesty.
“And you agree he does?”
“Yes.”
She shivered, taking another sip of coffee. “Are those measures really necessary?”
“Yes.”
“So you have to know everything about me and my life?”
“I have to know what will keep you safe. I have to be able to evaluate threats. I presume you want this matter concluded as swiftly as possible?”
She nodded stiffly. “Obviously.”
“It’s not obvious, actually,” he responded, mentally forcing himself to tone down the sarcasm in his voice. “If anything, your lifestyle over the last six months has been a flagrant invitation –,”
“How dare you?”
“You stick to the same routine when you are in London. Every morning, the same run, the same route, the same coffee shop at almost exactly the same time. If you were attempting to give someone a roadmap to stalking you, then you’ve done it.”
“So we’re victim blaming now?”
“Of course not. But given the threat, I can’t believe no one has advised you on the basic steps you could take to improve your personal safety. All I can conclude is that you get a thrill out of taunting this guy.”
The sound of her sucking in air filled the room.
“Noah,” Gray’s voice held a warning. “It’s been a tough day. Maybe you could check the fire-breathing dragon act at the door for now?”
Noah turned to his friend, only in that moment, they were no longer friends, but client and bodyguard, and his principal concern was delivering the hard facts so that both of them were shaken awake. “You hired me knowing what that would mean. If you’ve changed your mind, say so now and I’ll leave. If you want me to stay, then this is the way it is. There is no compromise here – compromises get people killed.”
Gray’s green eyes were locked with Noah’s silver, a silent battle raging between them until finally, Gray nodded, then turned to Max. “We’re hiring him. That’s final.” He moved to her, pressing his thumb to her chin and staring into her eyes. “I can’t lose you. Okay?”
She opened her mouth to argue but something passed between them, an understanding that years of being twins had fostered in their souls.
“For one week,” she agreed finally. “And only on a trial. If, after seven days, I don’t want to do this anymore, you have to let me fire him.”
“You won’t need to fire me,” Noah promised. “If you’re not convinced you need me after seven days, then I’ll walk out of your life without a backwards glance. Deal?”
She strode towards the desk, innately elegant, placing her coffee cup on the edge then closing the distance between them. Two feet from Noah, she stopped walking and extended her hand.
“Deal, Mr Storm. Shall we shake on it?”
His eyes held hers, and something deep within him answered the silent, compelling challenge in her gaze, the promise of her parted lips and gently undulating breasts. The stirring of desire, unmistakable and fierce, should have been enough to warn him. This was a bad idea. He couldn’t protect someone he was attracted to. He couldn’t allow any form of distraction.
But Noah Gray had never met a situation he couldn’t triumph over; this would be just the same.
He held out his hand, curving his fingers over hers and pulling ever so slightly, just enough to draw her body nearer to his so a hint of her vanilla and lemon blossom fragrance reached him, imprinting on him in a way that spelled disaster.
It tookevery ounce of Max’s focus to keep a neutral expression locked on her face. The last twenty four hours had scuttled her composure, but she suspected that had nothing to do with the raging fever in her pulse, nor the way her nipples were tingling and taut inside the lace of her bra. Noah’s hand, so much larger than hers, wrapped around hers, his thumb moving rhythmically over the skin of her hand until flames seemed to be licking the soles of her feet. She pulled her hand away hard, her eyes flashing a warning she hoped he’d heed. Or did she?
She pushed the traitorous thought away. He might be hotter than hades, deliciously handsome and the embodiment of alpha-male strength, but she wasn’t the kind of woman to be impressed by stupid superficial traits. She refused to be impressed by his looks and physical strength. That was just dumb luck.
“I presume you’ll need to take a day to catch up? You must be tired from your flight.”
His lips quirked in a smile that made her stomach ache. Beautiful, yes, but he was also laughing at her, mocking her, and she hated that. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. I’m shadowing you. Effective immediately.”
A throb of pleasure radiated from her belly. She spun away, swallowing hard.
“I’ll have Rachel send you my calendar. I have a busy few days planned, Mr Storm. I hope you don’t suffer jetlag.”
“I’ll cope.”
Why was she baiting him? It was clear he wouldn’t rise to it. He was too cool, too professional. It would be better for all of them if she simply accepted this arrangement. She steeled herself then turned to face him. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Noah nodded and she held her nerves together, assuring herself she’d be alone, soon, sure that Gray would walk out with his friend. Only it was Gray that moved to the door, offering one last ‘thank you’ in Noah’s direction before disappearing, leaving the two of them alone.
If she’d thought he was attractive before, seeing him like this, just the two of them in her office, was more than overwhelming. The air around them seemed to grow thick, and she was conscious of every breath, every movement. While outwardly doing all that she could to appear natural and poised, she felt clunky and wrong, completely out of place. His scrutiny didn’t help matters.
“You can’t mean to stay in my office and stare at me?” She asked, cursing the unsteadiness of her voice.
“I’ll start with an inspection of your space,” he said curtly. “Then, I’d like to take a look at your phone, laptop, ipad, any other communication devices. I’ll need access to your digital diary, your calendar of past events, and I’d like to interview your executive staff, as well as anyone who has access to this floor of the building.”
“Is that all?” She asked, incredulous.
“I will need to interview you as well,” he responded, setting her pulse going all over again. She gripped the back of her office chair, hoping it sent a message of calm when actually she was using it for support.
“What about?”
“Any detail you might have forgotten to mention to your security detail in the past. These incidents began twelve months ago. That’s a long time for someone to have stalked you without slipping up.”
“You think he’s made a mistake and I just haven’t noticed?”
“Why would you have noticed?” Noah brushed aside her concerns. “You’re not a security professional. I presume you don’t have much experience with stalkers?”
“None whatsoever,” she responded with a shiver.
“Then relax. I’m not accusing you of covering this up. I’d like to evaluate the investigations to date, that’s all.”
“What exactly is your experience with stalking?”
She’d hit a nerve. Fascination burst through her. She wanted to press on it, to press him, to make him uncomfortable and uncertain, to shake some of his arrogance from his handsome face. But a second later, he was himself again, so she almost wondered if she’d imagined his response.
“I’ve worked private security for over six years. In that time, I’ve had many clients engage me for purposes similar to this.”
“And do you always catch the bad guy, Mr Storm?”
“I intend to catch this bad guy.”
It was a deflection. She analysed that, him, her eyes probing his face, his eyes, even when she knew, somehow, that he wished to remain closed off to her. Yet he didn’t look away. He stared back unflinchingly, and her heart sped up, crashing hard against her ribcage.
“Well, our tete a tete will have to wait. I have a jam-packed day of meetings. I’m afraid your shadowing is going to be a little boring.”
