Knox Page 6

  Take your stance.

  Take aim down your sight.

  Take a breath.

  Hold it one moment.

  Let it out.

  Squeeze the trigger with control.

  Mica thumbed the safety off the gun and held it in both hands, pointed at the floor. She ran back to her kitchen, praying to God she wouldn’t have to discover if she could shoot someone or not.

  The kitchen was empty. Mica rounded the corner to the archway, slowing to a tiptoe as terror wheeled inside her, making her tremble slightly.

  The living room sat empty. The door was still closed, the chair still in position. Mica took a few deep breaths to calm herself as best she could. She stared at the door, trying to think of her next move. Call the police? That would mean she would have to let go of the gun with at least one hand, something she didn’t feel ready to do.

  Mica found the door getting closer and realized she was walking towards it. One part of her mind told her that was a bad idea, the worst idea she could possibly have, while another urged her on. She reached the door, then inched her way around the chair in front of it, and slowly stretched her head to the peephole, her ears straining to hear even the smallest sound.

  Mica pressed her face to the door and looked out the tiny peephole. The hall outside seemed empty. Mica took a step back, not sure what to do. She stepped forward again and pressed her eye to the peephole again, this time looking down.

  A small, wooden box, like a cigar box, sat on her welcome mat. Mica stared at it for a long time.

  After at least ten minutes had passed, Mica let go of the gun with one hand, her eye still pressed to the peephole. She pulled her phone out of her bra.

  She needed help.

  Chapter 11

  Knox

  Knox only had time to type one search term into his computer before the phone in the outer office rang. He should have ignored it. He had an answering service on the weekends who would route any current clients to the proper investigator. The answering service would turn away anyone who wasn’t a current client.

  He didn’t have the staff for new clients right now. His company had recently taken on two of the largest security details they’d ever managed, protecting a wealthy CEO of a prominent tech company, and protecting an oil baron from the Middle East who was vacationing with his children in California for a month. The two details had done a lot for the company’s bottom line, but had put him in a hiring crunch, especially since he never hired anyone off the street or from a resume. He only hired from personal referrals. His only exceptions were former secret service agents or former high-ranking military. He had put out the word weeks ago that he was looking for new guards and investigators, but so far, he’d had very little response. He needed to get more aggressive.

  Without thinking, Knox’s hand reached out and picked up his phone, then pressed the button that would allow him to answer the incoming call.

  “Rosesson,” he growled, his mind far away.

  No one said anything for a moment and Knox almost hung up, thinking the line was empty. As the phone left his ear, a shaky female voice spoke.

  “Ah, Mr. Rosesson, I didn’t … I don’t…What I mean is … Do you… Can you…”

  Knox sat up straight in his chair, something making him listen harder. This woman was obviously scared out of her mind, although that wasn’t what was pulling at him. “Hey now, calm down. Take a deep breath. Start with your name.”

  He heard her take the breath he had advised and then let it out slowly.

  “Mica Nichols.”

  Knox typed it into his search bar as he spoke. “Hello Mrs. Nichols, can I help you with something?”

  Google returned results immediately. Most of them were for a famous but camera-shy fashion designer from Seattle. Probably not who he was talking to. He clicked on the first result anyway. There was one picture on the page but it was small and grainy. He couldn’t tell anything about the woman from it. His eyes scanned the text as he waited for her to answer.

  “Miss. It’s Miss, not Mrs., and yes, I need…a bodyguard or something.”

  She sounded more in control of herself already. Knox liked that. She’d had a scare, but she was processing as best she could.

  “Has someone threatened you?”

  “Yes. Someone has threatened me,” she said, but he could tell by the note in her voice that something about what she said wasn’t true.

  “What were you threatened with, Miss Nichols?”

  She was silent for a moment. “Well, I wasn’t actually threatened with anything, but I know there is a threat there. An implied threat. And he seems to be stalking me. He broke into my garage, and I think he has a key to my house.”

  “Ex-boyfriend?”

  “Oh God no!” she exclaimed. “Look, it’s a long story, can you send someone over to my house and I will explain it all to him? I’m willing to hire someone to be here twenty-four hours a day.”

  Knox chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t have the staff to help this woman right now, but he couldn’t turn her away either. He had two choices. He could pull Rock off of the Rachel case and send him over there, or he could refer her to one of his competitors. None of them were as good as his company, but they were good enough to handle a simple bodyguard case.

  Or. Knox thought furiously. It had been years since he’d been in the field. Most of his work was conducted from behind this desk these days. Last week, when he’d helped out Hawk and Craig, had really made him realize how much he missed the hands-on part of the work. Maybe that was the source of the restlessness he’d been feeling lately.

  Before he realized he had made his decision he heard himself speaking.

  “Give me your address.”

  Chapter 12

  Mica

  Mica watched out her window, her body fairly calm and relaxed, now that she had someone coming over to help her. She wondered who it would be. She’d been surprised and almost panicked when Knox Rosesson himself had answered the phone on a Saturday morning. Maybe it was one of his brothers, an unruly voice in her mind whispered. Mica slanted her lips in a frown. She didn’t think so. There was no mistaking that low, growly voice, even though she hadn’t heard it for years. She hoped that Mr. Rosesson sent just a normal guard and not one of his brothers. She knew two of them worked for him but she didn’t want to deal with either of them.

  A large, black, double-cab pickup truck pulled up in front of her townhome and stopped. Mica watched it curiously. A truck like that would be murder to park in San Francisco. She watched it sit there, imagining the driver looking up and down the road for a parking spot. She couldn’t see any from her vantage point. She wondered if this was her bodyguard.

  The truck pulled forward and disappeared from her sight. Mica sighed and continued her watch. She didn’t expect someone for at least another ten minutes, but if traffic was light and he was quick, he could be there soon. She would feel better when someone was on her case. Someone big and mean-looking, with a gun. Maybe two guns. She hoped Bailey would see she wasn’t just going to let him terrorize her and then maybe he would go away.

  What if he does go away? What if you hire a bodyguard for a month and you don’t hear a peep from him? Then what? Do you think he’s just going to give up?

  Anxiety welled up inside Mica at the thought. She pushed it away. She would deal with that when she came to it. Right now she just didn’t want to feel scared out of her mind anymore.

  A buzz in Mica’s kitchen sounded. Her muffin. She’d popped a frozen muffin into the oven, hoping to entice herself to eat something. She ran in and pulled it out, placing it on the counter to cool for a moment. Mica eyed the gun safe next to her coffee pot. She had moved it out to the kitchen and put the gun back in it. She couldn’t stand the thought of having the gun just laying out on the counter or on a table. It wasn’t right.

  The door buzzer sounded, startling Mica out of her thoughts. She jumped slightly and felt her heart pick up speed. This had to
be her bodyguard.

  Mica walked swiftly to her door to press the button that would allow her to speak to whoever it was. Her finger hovered an inch above it. She didn’t want to go by someone’s voice. She wanted to see him. Maybe ask him to hold up his identification before she let him into her building. Mica knew paranoia was getting the better of her but she didn’t care. Just like everything else, she’d deal with it later.

  Mica pressed her eye to her peephole and looked out. The hallway stood seemingly empty. The buzzer sounded again. Slowly, she moved the chair from in front of the door and stretched her hand out to turn the knob. She would go downstairs where she could see whoever was at the door.

  Mica grabbed her keys from next to the door, suddenly sick to her stomach at the thought of leaving her apartment. There was nowhere for Bailey to hide in the hallway, but what if he were on the third floor? He could sneak down while Mica was on the first floor, then hide himself in her apartment somewhere. He obviously had some sort of a key to her door, and maybe one to the deadbolt too.

  Mica stood where she was, caught in indecision. Her buzzer sounded again, for longer this time. Mica stared at it.

  What if she walked to the head of the stairs, made sure it wasn’t Bailey at the door, then ran back to her apartment and pressed the button to let the bodyguard in? She knew it was stupid, but she didn’t know what else to do. She pulled the door open quickly and took a step into the hall, all of her senses on high alert. She avoided stepping on the wooden box that still sat on her welcome mat. She wouldn’t touch it till the bodyguard was there.

  The noise of a door opening sounded on the first floor and she froze. It was Bailey! He’d been messing with her!

  The sound of another door opening reached her ears, then a voice she recognized as Darryl, from downstairs. “Who are you?”

  A different man’s voice, some of the words muffled. “…. Rosesson with … … Security.”

  Caught, Mica did the only thing she could think of. She fled back into her apartment and slammed the door shut, engaging all the locks. She pressed her eye to the peephole and waited.

  Dimly, she could hear heavy tread on the floor outside. She took several deep breaths, trying to quiet her racing heart. A tall man entered her view and Mica felt denial spurt through her brain.

  Knox Rosesson stood in front of her door, his hand raised to knock. His eyes seemed to look right in the peephole, right through it to where she stood on the other side, heart racing, palms suddenly moist with sweat.

  He’d come himself! The president and CEO of Alpha Private Security had come to her house himself to take her case. How could that be? He was a billionaire. A busy man. He didn’t take cases himself anymore, just ran the company. Everything she’d ever read said so.

  Her eyes devoured him even as her mind screamed he couldn’t possibly be standing in front of her. He stood tall, six foot two, wearing jeans and an open sport jacket over a t-shirt. His rugged, handsome face was set in a polite, expectant expression as he knocked on the door.

  Mica’s hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. She never imagined she would see Knox Rosesson again, and certainly not like this. Her fear of Dick Bailey was pushed momentarily to the back of her mind, where fear of Knox Rosesson’s reaction to her replaced it.

  The unruly voice in her mind spoke up again.

  Relax. Play it cool. He won’t recognize you with all of the changes you’ve made. Just open the door, tell him it was a mistake, and send him away. You can call another company to protect you.

  Mica thought that voice was probably right. He wouldn’t recognize her at first glance.

  But she didn’t know if she could do it. She didn’t know if she could send him away, run from him a second time in her life. There’d been something between them once, something fleeting and fragile, but she had never forgotten it. Never forgotten him. What if he hadn’t either? She’d fantasized about this moment dozens of times over the years, the moment when she’d see him face to face again, have a chance to explain her side of things, maybe see if the instant attraction and fiery passion they’d once shared still existed.

  Mica tried to make her decision, knowing no matter what she did, her life was about to change forever. She would open the door, and the words she would say would either shut the lid on this part of her past for good, or blow the lid off completely.

  Either way, she wasn’t ready.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Knox’s story continues in The Billionaire’s Secret Kink 2, tentative release date scheduled for October 26th, 2015. To get an email when it is released, sign up for my list here http://www.lisaladew.com/

  Love sexy books? Keep reading for a sneak peak of The Billionaire’s Empire by Bella LoveWins.

  If you haven’t read my Edge of the Heat Series yet, Knox was in book 7, helping Craig and Hawk save their families.

  The BILLIONAIRE’S Empire

  Part 1 of 2

  A Dark, Steamy Romance Series

  By

  Bella LoveWins

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  The Billionaire’s Empire Part One

  Third edition. October, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Bella LoveWins.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Written by Bella LoveWins.

  They say with enough money, you can buy anything, but can money buy silence for the billionaire’s crimes of passion?

  They say with enough money, you can buy anything. But can money buy silence for the billionaire’s crimes of passion?

  Join the Reader List

  You are just one click away.

  Follow the link below and enter your email address to get notified of updates, promotions and new releases by Bella LoveWins.

  >>>Click here for Bella LoveWins updates and promotions<<<

  Thank you, and enjoy it!

  Sincerely,

  Bella LoveWins

  Website: http://bellalovewins.com/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BellaLoveWins

  Prologue

  The valet looks on in horror as he catches sight of a young woman on the floor of the luxury condo parking elevator. It’s the end of his first shift. He’s damned if this gets him in trouble. It’s the best gig he’s had since he left his trailer park in Arkansas and hopped on the bus to New York City.

  He looks down. He studies her for a moment. She’s dressed in a skin tight blue dress, and stilettos that can kill. There’s a needle in her arm. She’s in a pool of her own blood, eyes rolled back in her head. He takes out his cell phone and calls the concierge desk.

  “Hey man, I think there’s a dead body down here in the green elevator on the P three.”

  “Man or woman?”

  “Woman. Pretty. Young, maybe 19 or 20.”

  “Do you recognize her from the building?”

  “Never seen her before.”

  “Call 911 from your phone.”

  “Why from my phone?”

  “Because you fucking found her. I’ll get the security manager to come down. He’ll probably pull the security tapes for the cops…and Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Next time, call the cops yourself and don’t fucking get me involved. Got that?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  Nick hears the phone slam down on the other end, and calls 9-1-1 next.

  Chapter One

  Jonathan

  My dad only calls me for three reasons. First, when he’s sick of the board of directors giving him hell for some crap decision he makes that bleeds money out of Sloan Sports and Entertainment. Second, when it’s my birthday. The man loves to celebrate shit. He’d probably celebrate waking up in the morning if he could. Third, when he’s in a bind.

  It’s Saturday morning, and I’m getting ready to hit the gym when I see his number come up on my phone. That only means one thing—he’s with a call girl or one of his eclec
tic, artsy girlfriends who lives in the village on Friday night, and something goes wrong. I don’t know why he can’t find some other poor fuck, and have them clean up his mess. But no, I’m his kid. That’s what I was born to do. I know where I stand. So I brace myself and pick up the phone, because it’s some shit going down.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “I need you over here at the Fifth Street condo now.”

  “What Fifth Street condo?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Jonathan.”

  I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I let him stew a little. Sloan Sports and Entertainment, contrary to the company name, has many real estate holdings. The one on Fifth Street is an entire floor of seven luxury condos he set aside for visiting executives and other guests. There’s a special one he keeps for MMA sparring with his top guys, or his play time with the call girls.

  “Okay, what do you need me there for?”

  “There was another accident. I need you to cover for me.”

  “What kind of accident, Dad? A harder than expected beat-down kind of accident, or a dead hooker?”

  “Call girl, Jonathan. You know I don’t mess with hookers. Anyway, she’s really young, and probably dead, except she got away and might be in the building bleeding out somewhere.”

  “What? So what do you need from me?”

  “Alibi. Maybe a cleanup if no one’s found her yet.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, Dad, can’t you hire someone for this shit? I thought you said that redhead was the last one?”