Treasure Me (Alpha Four, Book 1) Read online

  “Sophia.” Her father’s voice held a distinct note of reprimand. “This is Lt. Dagan Caldwell.”

  Thankful for the excuse to touch him, she held out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Caldwell.”

  The moment he took her hand, butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she didn’t need a mirror to see that her cheeks were rosy red.

  “Rebel,” he answered. “My father is Mr. Caldwell and only my mother uses Dagan.”

  Suddenly his appearance made perfect sense and she found herself severely tempted to find out exactly how rebellious he was.

  “Rebel.” She gave his hand a soft squeeze. “Sophie Graystone.”

  While Rebel stood with Sophie’s hand in his, he practiced great self-discipline to keep from yanking her against him and showing her just exactly how nice it was to meet her. Damn, the petite, brunette bombshell stroked his libido with her gentle grip. Unable to help himself, he tightened his hold in an attempt to touch her a few minutes longer.

  He took advantage of the extra time to take in her appearance. Eyes as dark as his favorite chocolate bar stared at him and there was no disputing the arousal in the depths, sparkling back at him. Long, brunette hair hung over her shoulders and teased the tops of her full, tight, breasts with the curled ends. A slim abdomen let to a trim waist and rounded hips upon which his hands could rest perfectly. She was short, he would guess there was about a foot between them, but her legs were shapely, sexy and long enough to wrap his waist.

  Holy God. His cock jumped in the confines of his pants and he shifted to make a discreet adjustment.

  As an act of survival, he gently released her hand. “I hear you’ve had a rough afternoon.”

  “Not one of my best,” she mumbled.

  The woman next to Sophie stood. “Nice to meet you, Rebel, I’m Alana Graystone, Sophie’s mother.

  Rebel took her hand, surprised by her admitted relationship to the Senator’s daughter. He never would’ve believed it if she hadn’t said the words herself. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Graystone.”

  “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to a sofa opposite two chairs. “May I offer you something to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” he said as he sat. The absolute last thing he needed was alcohol to loosen his lips. The Senator would chase him out of the house with a shotgun if his inner thoughts managed to escape.

  As soon as Sophie and her mother sat in the chairs opposite him, he glanced at Sophie. “Tell me what happened.”

  He listened, enthralled by her soft tone and lack of nervousness as she repeated the day’s events. Obviously, the woman had nerves of steel.

  “And I still have the painting,” she finished.

  “Did you get a look at the attacker?”

  “No. He grabbed my shoulders from the back. I managed to raise an arm enough to smack his face and then move it to elbow him between the legs but I didn’t see his face. By the time he released me and I turned around, he was headed away from the parking lot.”

  “Did anyone else see what happened?”

  “No one reported anything and security didn’t see anyone suspicious when they searched the area.”

  “Did you scream?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not a screamer.”

  Rebel bit back a grin. That was a challenge if he’d ever heard one. “You believe he wanted the painting?”

  She nodded.

  He glanced at the Senator. “But you don’t?”

  “No,” the other man said without hesitation. “Sophie’s a celebrity of sorts. I think whoever he was, he knew she would bring more money than the art.”

  “I know you’re concerned, Dad,” Sophie interjected, “but I honestly believe this is all about the painting. Henri DuBois is a modern-day Picasso.”

  Rebel inwardly flinched. Art really wasn’t his thing. “Are the paintings valuable?”

  “Extremely. And very difficult to obtain.”

  “What about today’s painting?”

  “My buyer paid five hundred thousand dollars.”

  He turned back to the Senator. “She may be right, Sir.”

  “Sophie is worth more than five hundred thousand dollars, son.”

  Senator Graystone’s admission didn’t rattle him but did raise one important question. He glanced back at Sophie. “Do you ever take an escort with you?”

  “No.”

  “Any particular reason why you don’t?”

  “Not really. Until today I’ve never had a problem.”

  He grinned, impressed by her obvious independence, while he tossed things around in his brain. With her soft voice and poised demeanor, Sophie reminded him of a gentle curtain of rain, the droplets caressing his skin as they slid across the surface. Was she simply too naïve to consider the possibility of danger? Both the Senator’s daughter and the paintings were valuable. Was it coincidence that the incident occurred at the same time she acquired the painting? Or did the perp simply see an opening and take it?

  “Do you have any idea who would want the merchandise?”

  “Everybody.”

  “Who knew your itinerary?”

  “The buyer, Ellen Vanderbuilt, and my assistant.”

  “What about your friends?”

  She frowned. “What about them?”

  “Would they have any desire for the painting?”

  “None.” Her gaze suddenly caught fire. “My friends had nothing to do with this.”

  He punched his explanation in the gut. It was obvious to see she didn’t want to hear that most times, someone close to the victim was involved.

  “She won’t leave without an escort in the future.”

  As soon as Senator Graystone issued the order, Rebel immediately questioned his earlier analysis. Narrowed eyes warned him of impending danger. Oh. Hell. With her arms still folded under her very nice, very tight, full breasts, he almost heard the machine guns as she tapped her fingers on her arms in rapid succession. Her chest began to rise and fall in a quick rhythm and although he appreciated her cadence, he witnessed the mild-mannered, non-threatening rainstorm morph into a full blown hurricane.

  “Absolutely not.”

  He raised an eyebrow, fascinated that she issued the denial without raising her voice but with enough conviction that even he hesitated to argue. The Senator however, didn’t hesitate.

  “Although I’d like your cooperation Sophie, it isn’t necessary.”

  Rebel transferred his weight from one foot to the other, ready to run interference. He had a feeling things might just get ugly.

  “Surely you remember how easily I’ve managed to lose a shadow in the past,” she countered.

  Again, he stood morbidly still, both shocked and aroused by her soft but direct response to the Senator’s ultimatum. This woman could play hardball – blindfolded.

  “This is not a game, Sophia.” The Senator’s voice hardened. “You are in danger and I will not let you deny it.”

  “No escort,” she insisted. “I’ll take Robert.”

  Rebel frowned. Who the hell was Robert?

  “Your assistant is hardly a threatening presence,” her father scoffed. “You need a professional bodyguard.”

  “We don’t even know for sure I’m in danger. This is the one and only time I’ve ever been accosted.”

  Rebel cleared his throat and dismissed the thought of Sophie’s male assistant for the moment. “I tend to agree with her, Senator. An escort may only make her a target.”

  “Thank you, Rebel,” she said quickly.

  “However, a tail won’t raise suspicion.”

  “I thought you were on my side,” she mumbled.

  He shrugged. “I nixed the bodyguard.”

  “I’ll compromise with the tail,” the Senator agreed. “I’ll make a call this evening.”

  He continued to hold her gaze with his, stimulated as hell by the fire that crackled in the depths. There was no doubt in his mind that this sexy
, tiny, knockout-of-a-woman could slay giants with one wiggle of a finger.

  “No need, Sir,” he said without moving his gaze from her inquisitive brown eyes. “I’ll accept the assignment.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next morning, inside his midnight blue SUV, complete with blacked-out windows and bullet-proofed panels, Rebel tilted up the steering wheel, eased back against the leather seat, and watched the sidewalk in front of the two-story condo a few feet away. If his suspicions were correct one Miss Sophie Graystone would exit the structure in the next few minutes.

  He glanced at his watch. 0800. Any minute now, the tiny package of dynamite would leave the house, fuse lit and ready to blow. Little did she know, he was locked and loaded – ready to extinguish the fire before it even sparked.

  Behind his Aviators, he glanced around the area, searching for the slightest hint of a threat and knowing he wouldn’t find one. The area had been built to cater to Sophie’s type – professional and wealthy – and although the neighborhood boasted elite inhabitants, the crime rate was almost nil. Apparently, security was tight and criminals knew it.

  The unit sat on a lot just big enough for the structure and mere feet from the neighboring condo. Cut short, the seasonably green grass in front covered the perimeter, the yard surrounded by a black iron fence. On the sidewalk in front, two spandex-clad women he pegged as near the same age as Sophie walked passed with dogs in tow. Obviously the animals were not for protection; the tiny, yapping animals weren’t exactly threatening – except to his eardrums.

  Three men jogged around them, apparently distracted by their deep conversation. Although neither of the woman were his type, they were both attractive. He shook his head. Money had a way of distracting even the most notorious ladies’ man.

  Not one person looked his way and if they even questioned his appearance, they didn’t stop to investigate. Not exactly the picture of neighborhood watch. The lack of interest didn’t bother him though, he fully expected the occupants of this neighborhood to act accordingly.

  He released a heavy breath and moved his thoughts back to his target. He knew with absolute certainty Sophie would not cooperate, it just wasn’t in her nature and the moment he heard her put the Senator in his place proved his point. Yet, he was also willing to bet she had a plan. Her intelligence was evident, even without Intel. It was apparent she loved her parents too much to put herself in danger. Under duress, she’d accepted her father’s assignment of a tail; however, she failed to mention she’d be on the move this morning. He chuckled to himself. She had no idea who she was up against. If she wanted to play hide-and-seek, he was a worthy opponent.

  But he still wouldn’t discount the need for body armor.

  Movement in his peripheral vision then caught his attention, moving his gaze back to the front of the condo. A wide grin split his lips when the door opened and the Senator’s daughter stepped outside and turned her back to him to lock the unit. Without hesitation, he eased open the car door and exited. In seconds, he stood behind her.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?”

  Sophie gasped and spun around, her free fist raised and ready to put up a fight, Rebel standing directly in her line of vision. In the heat of the moment, she wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or extreme fear – not that it mattered which one – but one or the other amped up her adrenaline and pretty much dictated her response. Without warning, her fist connected with his brick wall of a chest.

  Not one word left his lips and he stood stoic, obviously not bothered in the least by her attack. Probably because her fist bounced off like a rubber ball. His lips curved into a smirk.

  “Easy there, tiger.”

  Ignoring his smooth, rich response and thigh-tightening smirk, she stood on her tiptoes, wrapped both hands around his equally-muscled shoulders, and shook him. Never mind that she couldn’t move the mountain in front of her.

  “You scared me to death!”

  With little effort, he peeled her fingers from his muscle, placed a hand to the small of her back and then led her to an annoying familiar vehicle parked at the curb; so much for avoiding a bodyguard. As if he’d done it a thousand times before, he opened the passenger door and then gestured at the seat.

  “In.”

  Although still somewhat shocked by the whole ordeal, she managed to find a tiny bit of resistance. She planted her feet on the curb and raised an eyebrow.

  For a few seconds, they both stood stoic, engaged in a silent battle of wills. She had no idea just how stubborn he could be, but she knew her own stamina and had no intention of giving in.

  “Get in the car, Sophie.”

  Still, she stood immobile, her eyes narrowed, determined to wait him out. For several seconds, they simply stared at each other, gazes locked, each issuing a silent dare. Sophie didn’t care if her eyes caught fire, she would win this showdown. Finally, he released a hard breath.

  “Please.”

  She gave him what she intended to be a cheeky smile and entered the vehicle. He shook his head, closed the door, and then entered the driver’s side several seconds later.

  “Are you always this difficult?”

  “Always.”

  He chuckled as he drove away from the curb and into traffic. “Where were you headed?”

  “To my studio.”

  “Normally, the tail needs that information.”

  She shrugged. “Normally.”

  “Good thing I was up early.”

  “Luck.”

  “You wish. I knew you wouldn’t follow instructions.”

  “Really? What gave you that impression?”

  “Your father didn’t tell you much about me, did he?”

  “No.”

  “Good thing.”

  “Why?”

  “If the Senator had told you even half of what he knows about me, you wouldn’t have gotten in the truck.”

  She swallowed hard – not out of fear like she probably should have, but to keep the twenty or so questions from escaping out of sheer intrigue. Apparently this man had deep dark secrets – ones she wanted very much for him to expose.

  “That still doesn’t explain how you claim to have known I wouldn’t follow instructions.”

  He moved his head toward the rearview mirror and then turned it to the front windshield. “I was an Army Ranger, a tracker to be exact. I’m trained to read people.” He turned and grinned. “I knew what you planned before you did.”

  “Is that so?”

  He simply nodded without hesitation, confidence oozing from every pore in his body. Oddly, the arrogance didn’t offend her. Instead, her mouth watered and her breasts tightened to the extent that she was sure her nipples might poke a hole in her blouse. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her tongue. No sense letting him see her slobber all over him like a rabid dog.

  “Okay then, O wise one, what do you suppose I’ll do next?”

  He released another of those knee-weakening smirks and suddenly she wanted to kiss it off his face. Press her lips against his and nibble her way all around them until she literally swallowed him whole. As strong as she knew this man to be, there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that his kisses would be hard and dominating. In an attempt at self-control, she folded her arms across her chest and attempted to appear smug.

  In what she dubbed an I’m-so-smooth manner, he changed lanes and then parked the vehicle next to a curb. “Now you’ll go inside your studio and explain to your assistant – Robert, if I remember correctly – why Mrs. Vanderbuilt’s painting wasn’t returned to your studio last night as planned.”

  She turned and glanced out the passenger window at the scripted lettering on the building there. Treasure Me. Okay so he was exactly right.

  She turned and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you coming along?”

  “I was under the impression you didn’t want a bodyguard.”

  “I don’t.” She reached for the door handle and pulled, annoyed when the door would
n’t budge.

  When she lifted her gaze to his and frowned, he snickered and then the click of the locks sounded in the silence.

  “Five minutes,” he said.

  She opened the door, stepped out and then glanced back at him. “Ten,” she said as she slammed the door on any further response.

  Sophie squared her shoulders and grinned as she walked the few steps to the studio. She might not have avoided her shadow but at least she let him know that she wouldn’t allow him to dictate to her. And, to prove her point, she may wait fifteen minutes to return.

  Once again confident in her independence, she opened the door and stepped inside. She’d barely released the doorknob before a pale, wide-eyed Robert nearly knocked her over as he approached at light speed. She grasped the doorknob to steady herself.

  “Good morning to you,” she said as she closed the door.

  “Sophie,” he said with a seriously straight face, “there’s a problem.”

  Although her assistant tended to have a flair for drama, his pallor somewhat concerned her. She fought the urge to groan. The last twelve hours of her life had been a problem. “A big one?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to sit down.” She took several deep breaths to keep her anxiety at bay as she walked the distance across the room and took a vacant chair beside Robert’s desk. “What’s happened?”

  “Did you leave Mrs. Vanderbuilt’s painting here last night?”

  “No. My plans were changed.”

  “Changed?” Robert frowned as he sat behind his desk.

  She nodded. “There was an incident at the auction.”

  “What happened?”

  For the third time, Sophie relayed the particulars of the incident.

  Robert’s eyes widened even further. “Did you call the police?”

  “No. The guy was long gone by the time I recovered. I headed straight for the appraiser and he made arrangements for a courier to deliver it to Mrs. Vanderbuilt.”

  “Were you hurt?”

  “No. I used some strategic self-defense moves on him.”