Escorted by the Ranger Read online

  They said their goodbyes and focused on the menu.

  As the courses were served and they ate, Jack seemed to relax. He followed the conversation and appeared interested in the topic even when she and Ambrose had been speaking about fabric for ten minutes.

  “Tell me, Jack, do you have an interest in fashion?” Ambrose asked.

  “Only as it relates to Marissa and this job,” Jack said.

  He meant nothing by it, but Marissa felt a tingle. What was his interest in her? Long ago, she had understood that sleeping with a man didn’t translate into genuine emotions. With Jack, sleeping with him had been an expression of her feelings. Desire and lust for him were her constant companions.

  “I am working on some new designs and I have an outfit that would look great on you,” Ambrose said to Jack. He delved into details about the outfit and Jack listened, nodding along.

  Marissa watched Jack, taking in his strong jawline and perfect cheekbones. His hair, though not styled with precision, was tousled in a just-got-out-of-bed manner that was sexy and masculine. His tuxedo wasn’t designer label, but fit him well.

  Her skin heated thinking of the night they had spent together and imagining peeling his jacket off his body and examining his tattoos. Jack had been caring and attentive in bed and out. He had looked at her in a way that had made her feel like he could see who she was beneath the makeup and the clothes and the hairstyles. The woman she was behind the pictures, a side of herself few people knew well.

  Jack then abruptly turned, stood on the bench seat and launched himself behind her.

  Marissa whirled. Jack was on the ground grappling with another man. In the man’s hand was a knife.

  Jack slammed the man’s hand against the ground and the knife popped free. The man flipped Jack onto his back as the two struggled. Two of Marissa’s bodyguards and men from the casino security swarmed close to help. Within seconds, Jack had subdued the man. Marissa’s bodyguards pulled the man to his feet.

  The knife-wielding stranger glared at Marissa.

  “Who are you?” Jack asked. He took a step back. His shirt was torn, but he seemed otherwise unscathed.

  The man answered in a language Marissa didn’t recognize.

  “Who hired you?” Jack asked.

  The man answered again, shaking his head with his statement. Jack was staring at the man as if trying to understand.

  Casino security boxed out passersby and photographers, but they were snapping pictures, lifting their cameras over their heads aiming them at her. This would be in the paper. Those photographs would be worth a ton and would reignite interest in Avery’s murder. Marissa’s heart clenched. She had wondered if she could put the murder behind her for a few hours. It was still haunting her and without Jack at her side, it would kill her.

  Chapter 7

  The man who had tried to attack Marissa in the Lucky Strike’s VIP restaurant had been questioned for five hours by the local police. He had spoken to Jack in German, but Jack only knew a few words in the language and hadn’t understood him. A German translator had been brought in, and suddenly, the assailant didn’t speak German. He was utterly silent. He wasn’t giving his name or any information about who had hired him or why he was after Marissa. A specialist from the West Company who lived locally had been brought in to observe the questioning and he was frustrated with the assailant’s silence, as well. Video and audio recordings from hotel security were being reviewed. The assailant’s photo and fingerprints were being run through criminal databases looking for a match.

  Marissa was in her hotel room with her other bodyguards. Jack hated leaving her alone for even a few minutes, worried there would be another attack. But he needed to meet with his contact at the West Company and brief them on the situation. Two assailants and neither was admitting to killing Avery, so they may be looking for a third. The two in custody were silent on the matter. They were loyal to someone. Unbroken silence meant they were afraid to talk or knew they’d be taken care of in the legal system if they stayed quiet.

  Jack returned to Marissa’s hotel, churning over various theories of the case. Two of her bodyguards were waiting at the elevator.

  “Is she okay?” he asked.

  The guards nodded and one pointed to the master bedroom. Jack was eager to see Marissa, anxious to see for himself that she was safe. Hired assassins didn’t give up and pursued until the target was dead. The meeting with the West Company had made it abundantly clear Jack should anticipate more problems.

  Jack knocked once on the door and entered.

  Marissa was lying on a massage table, her lower body draped in white sheets, receiving a massage from a pretty brunette. The room smelled of spices and flowers. Soft music was playing.

  A second table was next to hers. Another woman dressed in white gestured to the identical, empty table. “Marissa has requested a couple’s massage.”

  Jack looked from the woman to the table. “For me?” He hadn’t before had a massage.

  “Relax. We’re alone,” Marissa said from the table, her voice sounding muffled.

  Jack’s knee twanged where he had been shot as if in reminder. A stranger’s hand all over him didn’t appeal. “No, thank you, though.”

  “Jack.” Marissa’s voice was filled with a protest. “I want you to relax. You saved my life today. Again. Get a massage. For me.”

  “I don’t see how getting a massage helps you,” Jack said. He had theories running through his head and wanted to write everything down and draw connections. This had gone on long enough. Professional assassins were harder to find and stop than run-of-the-mill thugs, but the West Company had provided more intel he could use.

  “Your being tense makes me tense,” Marissa said.

  “I don’t have time for a massage,” Jack said.

  “Sure you do. You work for me. This is next on your task list,” Marissa said.

  Jack sighed. “You won’t let this go, will you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Jack was too tired to fight her. A quiet massage would give him time to organize his thoughts. “How do I do this?”

  “I will turn around. You may remove your clothing and lie down. I will drape this sheet over you,” the masseuse said, holding up a sheet.

  No chance of that. Being naked in the same room with Marissa, even if they weren’t touching was a position he wouldn’t put himself in again. “The clothes stay on.”

  The masseuse frowned. “Will you remove your suit jacket? And take off your shoes.”

  That was as far as it went. This was odd to him. People couldn’t find being naked and rubbed by strangers relaxing. “Okay.” So much reluctance, it was hard to force out the agreement.

  He did as she asked and lay on the table. He felt ridiculous. Then the masseuse went to work and Jack felt like he was melting into the table.

  “Do you like it?” Marissa asked.

  He wouldn’t lie. “It’s good.” As the masseuse moved down his body, he tensed when she came close to his knee. “Skip the knees.” He didn’t want her pressing on his injury.

  The masseuse did as he asked without comment. It was nice to have someone listen to him without question. He let his mind wander.

  The West Company was looking into connections between the assassin and motives for the attacks. Striking out at two of the most well-known models in the world threw suspicion to other models, businesses they’d had relationships with and men they had dated. Rob was high on Jack’s list, although Rob struck him as impulsive and out of control of his emotions. Hiring two assassins, although not two good ones, took time and effort. It wasn’t like Rob could open a web browser and search for them by trade. He’d need connections and money and patience. Jack wasn’t convinced Rob had any of that.

  When the massage was over, Jack rolled off th
e table. His back felt loose and limber.

  Marissa was sipping a glass of water with lemons and limes floating in it, reclining on a settee under the large window. She wore a white robe.

  “How do you feel? Like you wasted an hour?” she asked.

  “That was an hour?” he asked. It hadn’t seemed that long.

  “Goes by fast.”

  The masseuses were packing their tables. Jack tipped them both as they left the room.

  “You look less tense,” Marissa said.

  “I feel less tense,” Jack said.

  “Was that your first massage?” Marissa asked.

  “Was I that obvious?” he asked.

  “Painfully so. What’s wrong with your knee? Did you hurt it today?”

  “Not today. Old injury that bothers me sometimes,” Jack said. He did not want to discuss this. Bianca’s betrayal was a topic he hated revisiting.

  “Sometimes?” Marissa asked.

  “Yes, but I’m okay,” Jack said. He enjoyed her curiosity except for now when he wanted her to let this go.

  “Want to tell me about it?” Marissa asked.

  Jack shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “The top secret work at the car dealership.”

  He let the comment pass. “I want to talk to you about this evening and what happened in the restaurant. That was pretty scary.” He wanted the observation to draw her out, for her to confide in him how she felt. They had grown closer since they’d met the day of Avery’s death. He could help her with this, help her put her head around it. She could have a detail locked away that she either didn’t know was important or she was subconsciously afraid to confront.

  “It was intense. I thought hotel security had everything locked down,” Marissa said.

  “They’re reviewing their security procedures and trying to figure out how he came into the VIP area because only approved names were to be permitted in the area.”

  Marissa stood and crossed the room to a silver tea cart. She poured more water into her glass. “Modeling is competitive. I’ve been stabbed in the back. Betrayed. Nothing compared to this.”

  “It’s unsettling,” Jack said.

  “If Kit hadn’t called you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Jack considered telling Marissa some of the truth about what he did for a living. Letting her into his confidence might encourage her to do the same. He sensed she was deeply upset about recent events yet she hadn’t opened up to him.

  “You know I don’t work for a car company. I work for a firm that specializes in providing help to those who need it. The help is often special skills. Odd skills.”

  “And what odd skills do you have aside from being an army ranger?” Marissa asked.

  She had remembered that detail from their first meeting. “The skills I learned in the service come in handy in difficult situations. I carry the promise of working hard, tirelessly and energetically into my current role.”

  Marissa poured him a glass of water. He took a sip.

  “Does that mean you’ll stay with me? You won’t give up?” Marissa asked.

  He sensed she was asking about their future, not just about this case. The minute he had touched her, kissed her and held her, he had opened the door to it. How could he make her understand that his life was ever changing? Leaving the country on an hour’s notice, working in hostile territories, going long weeks where he was out of communication. That wasn’t a life many women would accept in their partner. “I will find the person who wants to hurt you and I will shut him down.”

  She stared at him, her gaze unwavering. “And then what about us?”

  “Tell me how you see the future.” He didn’t want to hurt her by telling her the best he could offer was a weekend now and then, and that he would miss more time than he would be with her. The truth might be better. But he was afraid the truth would break them apart.

  “I want to retire from this life. Not because of what happened to Avery. Not because of what’s happening to me now. Because I’ve been thinking for the last year that I’m tired. I’ve been on a diet since I was twelve. I work out every day. My personal life is on display. I’ve traveled the world and missed holidays with my family. Now that my brother will have a child, I want to be an aunt. Not just an aunt in name. I want to be there. I want to be an artist, take some classes and explore that part of my talents.”

  Not what he was expecting from her. He was impressed. “Art school?”

  “I want to study various media. I’ve played around with paints, but I’m interested in more than painting.”

  “You should follow those dreams. You’ve proven you know how to chase them down. Do it again.”

  Marissa smiled at him, her eyes wide. “You’re the first person who has ever said that to me. Everyone else thinks I should be happy to have money and I should spend the day sunning myself poolside.” Marissa set her water on the windowsill. She pushed on his shoulders and he sat on the settee. She knelt over him and brought her mouth to his.

  Their mouths met in an explosion of passion. He’d had the internal dialogue. He should slow this down. He should stop.

  But she was in his head, silencing his protests and when her hands slipped beneath his shirt, he was lost to her.

  * * *

  Marissa’s phone rang. Her manager Tobin’s name splashed on the screen. Marissa wanted to crawl beneath the soft pale blue bedding and ignore the world. Just a day away, where no one spoke to her, called her or demanded her attention. A day with Jack. She answered, hoping for a quick call and knowing she couldn’t avoid her life.

  “Are you with Jack?” Tobin asked.

  Marissa glanced at Jack. He had been sleeping, but now his eyes were open. “Yes. Why?”

  Tobin sighed. “I received another letter. It was forwarded by our PR department. Usually, we toss a signed picture into an envelope or throw out jealous messages, but this is more disturbing than the other ones. I needed to call and warn you and Jack.”

  Tobin wasn’t dramatic. For the purposes of his job, he was calm and cool under pressure.

  “In what way was it disturbing?” Marissa asked, a chill going down her spine.

  “Maybe I should talk to Jack about this. I wasn’t sure...”

  Jack’s gray eyes watched her. He could likely hear what Tobin was saying. “You can talk to me about it. Just tell me,” Marissa said.

  “It was a picture of you from the photo shoot you did for San Terese shoes.”

  The photos from that shoot were scheduled to run in a campaign starting in a few months. “From the photo shoot?” she asked, needing to confirm. Marissa’s mind flipped into overdrive as she thought about who had been on the set. Someone could have hacked the photographer’s computer or snapped a picture themselves.

  “There are several. Each has a warning written on the back. It’s upsetting.”

  “I’m not upset about it,” Marissa said. “I’ve received hate mail before. People send me all types of letters. They think I’m a sellout, that I promote body issues and eating disorders for young girls. I’ve heard and read it all.”

  “This isn’t like those. It’s certainly filled with vitriol and I’m sure the person is unbalanced. But this is over-the-top,” Tobin said.

  Marissa wasn’t sure she wanted to know the specifics. While she had been through years of negativity and her skin was thick, it bothered her. If it was that disturbing that Tobin had to call her at seven in the morning, it would weigh on her and she would have nightmares about it. “I can mention it to Jack.”

  Jack’s hand went to her lower back in a supportive gesture.

  “Tobin, let me talk to Jack and call you back. I’m sure he’ll have questions.” She disconnected and faced Jack. “I received more hate mail. My manager seems to believe i
t is more disturbing because the messages are scrawled on the back of photos from the San Terese footwear shoot I did recently.”

  A muscle in Jack’s jaw jumped. “That might narrow down who is sending the threats. We have the list of people on the set. We can look into them.”

  “The person responsible wasn’t necessarily on the set. Someone from the photographer’s office could be responsible. A hacker. Someone from the designer who ordered the shoot. Graphic designer in the ad department. At this point, hundreds of people could have had access to the photographs.”

  “I’ll call Tobin and talk to him.” Jack opened his arms and she moved into his embrace. She wanted the warm comfort of him. She closed her eyes, shutting out the world.

  Jack’s nose traced along the back of her neck. “I know you have a booked calendar over the next few months, but maybe you should consider dropping out of sight for a few weeks. Lie low. Let us look into this matter further. You could rent a villa far away from this and relax. I’ll arrange for a masseuse to come a few times a week to help keep your tension low.”

  Marissa heard the wisdom in his words and she appreciated he was trying to help her, but she couldn’t stop living her life. “It might start that way. A couple of weeks. And then what? What if this person still isn’t caught? If I go off the reservation, he won’t be able to find me and your leads might dry up. As long as I stay in the public eye, he’ll keep reaching out to contact me, and every time he does, he risks revealing something about himself.”

  Jack’s armed tensed around her. “I don’t like this. He’s getting closer.”

  She hated it, too. But the person threatening her would make a mistake. Kit and Jack were involved. The police were investigating the matter. Casino security had resources on it. Someone would uncover a mistake and out this person. “My idea is the opposite. I am supposed to go to the Daytime Show Awards tomorrow in New York. Anyone who wanted to would know that I am scheduled to attend. Why don’t you come with me? Something might happen. If he comes at me, you’ll be there, like you’ve been every time.”