Targeted

Sophie choked out a sound.

“They actually started having sex on his bed with me in the closet. Freak,” she muttered.

“I can’t believe you stayed that long!”

Hannah chuckled, the sound wicked. “Just as he was about to, you know, I walked out and told him never to call me again. His expression was priceless and I could still hear her shrieks by the time I was outside.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d swear you made this stuff up.” Sophie had been listening to these stories since college. If there was a crazy in a ten-mile radius, Hannah would find him. It was as if she had a homing beacon attached to her.

“Now that you’ve heard my horror story, you have to take pity on me and meet me for happy hour after work. If that doesn’t convince you, two-fifty martinis better.”

Under normal circumstances Sophie would have loved to have met her friend. But she couldn’t say yes to anything until she’d talked to her boss. “I can’t tonight. Work is insane right now.” Okay, not exactly a lie.

“Come on, one night off won’t kill you.”

Sophie shut her eyes and massaged her temple. She was desperate to tell someone what she’d seen. It was like a need growing inside her to just get the information off her chest, but she bit it back. There was no way she’d ever put anyone she loved in danger. “I can’t, but I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“You suck, but okay.” There was laughter in Hannah’s voice, so Sophie knew her friend wasn’t actually mad. “By the way, my mom wants to know why you haven’t been over in the past couple of weeks. She thinks you’ve found someone else to cook for you.”

She snorted. “Right. Will you tell her I’ve been busy?” Sophie had met Hannah’s mom during her first spring break in college, and the woman had taken her in as her own. After Sophie’s growing up in foster care, having a real mother figure was a new experience but one she’d embraced.

“You tell her. I talked to her last night and she wanted to know why I haven’t married a rich doctor yet. I’m taking a couple days off from torture.”

Sophie shook her head. “Fine. I’ve got to go but I’ll see you tonight.”

As soon as they disconnected, she pulled the logs she’d been reviewing back onto her screen. Gas charges and mileage weren’t matching up, and after last night she knew why. They were carrying way too much cargo. She clicked her pen up and down as she stared at the screen. Damn it, why wouldn’t Ronald call her back? She wanted to scream. When an e-mail marked urgent from one of their biggest suppliers popped up on the bottom of her screen, she sighed and closed the other file. She could stare at her computer all day or keep herself distracted with work.

After taking care of her client, she made a serious dent in the quarterlies, though images of grenades and guns hovered at the back of her mind. She’d tried buzzing Ronald three more times, but he hadn’t been in his office and no one had been able to find him. Just as she stood, ready to hunt him down, her assistant buzzed her office. “Sophie, Mr. Weller wants to see you in his office. There’s a man from Keane Flight here. He’s yummy.” Mandy whispered the last part before clicking off.

Sophie’s knees weakened for a moment. Someone from Keane Flight? Oh God, what if it was one of those scary men from last night? Maybe they’d figured out she’d been the one to break in. There hadn’t been any video cameras—she’d noticed that Paul had taken them down when she’d been there for her last surprise visit—but maybe they’d seen her car. Sophie swallowed hard and shoved the folder containing the pictures she’d taken into her desk. She’d wanted to bring them to Ronald, but she wouldn’t risk it with someone from Keane Flight in there.

She swallowed hard but found her voice. “Thank you, Mandy.” Mandy had been her intern last year and, when she graduated, had applied for a job. She definitely didn’t have the experience Sophie had been looking for, but the woman was a fast learner.

After straightening her pencil skirt and smoothing on lip gloss, Sophie grabbed a notepad and pen. She had to appear normal when going to Ronald’s office. Plus, holding something felt a bit like having armor. She shut her office door behind her and stopped at Mandy’s desk. “I sent some stuff to the printer. Would you organize everything and put it in a binder for me?”

“No problem.”

“One more thing.” Sophie glanced behind her. Two other administrative assistants shared the open space with Mandy, and she didn’t want them overhearing. “Don’t let anyone into my office while I’m gone. I’ve locked it and you have the only other key.”

A slight frown marred her pretty face. “Is there a problem? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. I’m just working on some stuff right now that Mr. Weller wants to keep private.”

Immediately Mandy’s mouth relaxed into a smile. “Oh, okay.”

Sophie clutched her notebook to her side as she headed down the long hallway toward her boss’s office. In addition to what she’d discovered last night, lately she suspected that things in her own office had been out of place. A paperweight and paper clip holder had been moved on more than one occasion. It was small stuff and maybe she was being paranoid, but she’d learned long ago to trust her gut. Considering what she’d found last night, she was never ignoring her instinct again.

She half knocked as she entered Ronald’s office. She was officially his assistant, but not in the sense that Mandy was her assistant. He didn’t like to deal with anyone but her, which was why Sophie was surprised he’d told Mandy he needed to see her instead of coming to her directly. Maybe he really was ignoring her calls.

“Good morning, Sophie.” Ronald gave her a tired smile as he looked up from his desk. Deep lines etched the grooves around his mouth.

There was no one in his office, so whoever they were meeting with must have stepped out. Which gave her the perfect opportunity to talk to her boss in private. “Ronald, we need to talk. Didn’t you get my calls last night?”

He shook his head, but the guilty flush spreading up his cheeks gave him away. Sophie reeled back as if slapped. He had been ignoring her. What the hell? She gritted her teeth, quickly moving past the hurt. “I discovered something . . . important.” She nearly snorted at that understatement.

His face paled. “Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t.” As she stared at the man in front of her, she tried to find the right words to just come out and say what she’d found. Something about his expression was just off. He looked almost haggard, so unlike the man she’d come to love and trust. She’d been twenty-two and right out of college when he’d given her a job. Not to mention that the company had paid for her master’s degree. She didn’t have any family and he’d always been a father figure to her. Anyone would have been better than the asshole foster fathers she’d endured over the years, but Ronald was truly kind. Even with the panic humming through her, seeing him this way pulled at her heartstrings.

Ronald sighed and his eyes flashed with something she couldn’t define. Pain? “We’ll talk, but not here. Just wait—”

He abruptly stopped talking and his gaze trailed over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. Sophie shifted in her seat and glanced behind her.

She blinked once as she made eye contact with the stranger entering the room. Staring into those eyes made her feel as if she’d been punched in the stomach. A raw sort of awareness stirred inside her, making her throat tighten and somewhere a lot lower heat up completely against her will. Mandy’s description of “yummy” was so very incorrect. A cupcake was yummy. This man was like a decadent triple-chocolate truffle cake with chocolate shavings sprinkled on top. Considering the crap she needed to deal with, noticing someone in such a sexual way—someone she clearly couldn’t trust—was beyond stupid. And definitely not like her. Only one man had ever had this raw effect on her. Though he hadn’t been quite a man. He’d been growing into a very handsome one and—damn it. She shook herself, trying to quash this strange sexual awareness that had erupted inside her.

Almost against her will, Sophie’s eyes trailed over him. The man seemed to make the room shrink just by stepping inside. It wasn’t that he was overly tall. He was maybe six feet, but he had a strong, domineering . . . presence. His shoulders almost appeared to strain against his suit, as if he’d be more comfortable chopping lumber or something else equally and ridiculously masculine. When the sudden—unexpected and definitely absurd—thought of what it might feel like to have those strong arms around her popped into her head, she felt herself blushing furiously. This visceral reaction was too weird and brought up too many unwanted memories.