Personal Protector

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Martinez.”

“I didn’t ask you to have sex with me,” he said slowly, but the naturally seductive quality of his voice only tempted her all the more, despite his rather flat denial.

The flame that kindled to life in his eyes further belied his words and made her ache in places too long neglected. “Yes, you did.”

He moved a step nearer to her. “I didn’t ask. I won’t ask.” There was no mistaking the added layer of huskiness in his voice.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, though her words were meaningless, since she couldn’t possibly bring herself to move, much less run away.

“Don’t worry, querida, I have no intention of starting anything neither of us wishes to pursue.”

Oh, but she did wish to pursue—that was the whole problem.

Personal Protector
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Piper Ryan—The hottest news reporter in Atlanta. A terrorist organization wants her dead. The word is that they have special plans for her.

Ric Martinez—This is his first big Colby Agency assignment. He has to stay focused, but the beautiful and intriguing Piper makes it difficult.

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency.

Lucas Camp—The deputy director of a highly covert government organization. Piper is his one and only niece.

Jack Raine—A trusted confidant to Victoria and Lucas.

Townsend and Green—FBI agents assigned to Piper Ryan’s security detail.

Dave Sullenger—The news director at WYBN-TV.

Keith—The news desk assistant at WYBN-TV.

Senator Rominski—The president has named him head of the United States’ new antiterrorist organization. He has plans for Piper, as well.

Jacob Watts—Personal assistant to the senator. He wants to make a name for himself.

Alex Preston—One of the Colby Agency’s finest.

Life is what we make it, some say. But in my opinion, life is also about who we are and who we meet along the way. I have been extremely fortunate in my journey, and this book is dedicated to someone who has helped to make my dream of writing come true. She has encouraged me to stretch my imagination and to go where I wasn’t sure I could. This one is for you, Denise O’Sullivan. Thank you so much for your faith and encouragement. You are the very best editor an author could wish for, and a truly wonderful person. It is both my professional and personal privilege to know you.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“I hope you’re not leaving out anything relevant, Lucas.” Victoria leveled her gaze on her oldest and dearest friend. That sprinkling of gray at his temples and the sparkle in those devilish gray eyes wreaked havoc with her usual strict control.

Lucas’s smile widened at the implication. “Don’t you trust me, Victoria?” He propped his cane against the arm of his chair and tilted his head, emphasizing his question. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

In blatant skepticism, Victoria arched one eyebrow a fraction higher than the other. “I don’t trust anyone who has worked for the Company and Special Ops as long as you have.”

“Well,” he offered in that smoky voice that did strange things to her ability to think rationally, “I suppose I can’t blame you there. But you know I would never deceive you, Victoria.”

The sound of her name on his lips sent a rush of warmth through her. Yes, she knew he was telling the truth. Lucas would never do anything to hurt her. He had always been there for her, and now she would have one of those rare opportunities to repay him just a little of what she owed.

“All right, then, I believe I have the perfect man for the job.” Victoria pressed the intercom button. “Mildred, please ask Ric Martinez to join this meeting.”

“Martinez?” Lucas frowned. “I don’t think I know him.”

“He’s fairly new,” Victoria agreed. “But he’s good. And he has the right background for the job.”

“Mind if I perform a little screening test of my own?” All signs of amusement had vanished from his expression. “After all, this is my one-and-only niece we’re talking about.”

Victoria shrugged lightly. “Be my guest.”

The door opened and Ric Martinez stepped into the room. Tall, dark and handsome, the man’s Latin good looks combined with his fountain of charm proved valuable assets in this business. Ric Martinez could charm or con anything out of anyone.

Ric’s gaze darted from Victoria to Lucas and back. “You wanted to see me,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Yes. Please have a seat.” She gestured to the vacant chair in front of her desk. Before Ric could sit, Lucas made his move.

“Close your eyes, Martinez.” Lucas stood next to Ric now, the barrel of his weapon pressed to the younger man’s temple. Despite his physical handicap, Lucas could still move with more stealth than most when it served his purpose.

Ric’s gaze, still locked on Victoria, widened, then narrowed with suspicion. “What’s going on, man?” he demanded uncertainly.

“Close your eyes,” Lucas snapped.

Victoria gave Ric a nod and he immediately complied. She had no idea what Lucas had in mind, but whatever it was, it would be harmless yet prove immensely telling.

“Okay, man,” Ric said stiffly. “Just stay cool.”

“Oh, I’m cool, Martinez.” The tip of the weapon bored a little deeper into Ric’s skull. “The question is, are you?”

“I’m anything you need me to be.”

“What did you see when you walked into this room?”

His eyes still closed tight, Ric frowned. “What?”

“Give your boss a profile on the man who might just blow your brains out in the next thirty seconds.”

“Black hair, with a bit of gray,” Ric began, his posture considerably more relaxed now that he had an idea what was expected of him. “Fairly tall, lean build. Fifty years old, maybe.” His brow creased in thought. “You have a small scar on your cheek just beneath your right eye. And you obviously use a cane.”

“Anything else?” Lucas barked impatiently.

“Oh, yeah,” Ric continued, in that cocky tone that set him apart from Victoria’s other investigators. “You’re wearing a knockoff watch, a cheap navy blue suit and loafers just like my abuelo used to wear.”

Victoria watched the smile inch its way across Lucas’s grim mouth. She smiled, as well. Lucas was definitely one of a kind. And so was Ric Martinez, the grandfather remark not withstanding.

“All right, Martinez.” Lucas lowered his weapon. “You can have a seat now.” Lucas’s smile widened to a grin when Ric’s annoyed gaze connected with his. “Unless, of course, you need to go change your shorts.”

“I’m cool,” Ric said, grinding the words out as he took the seat she had offered earlier.

“You’re right, Victoria.” Lucas settled back into his own chair. “He is good.”

“Does anyone mind letting me in on the joke?” Ric demanded, irritation clear in his tone. “I knew there was a certain level of risk involved when I signed on,” he said pointedly as he pinned Victoria with that dark gaze. “I just didn’t expect to find it in your office.”

Victoria reined in her smile and adopted a more businesslike expression. “Ric, this is Lucas Camp. He’s with a highly covert special ops organization of which I’m not at liberty to discuss. And he’s a very dear friend of mine.” Disbelief clouded the younger man’s eyes briefly. He probably wondered how she knew a man like Lucas. She knew a great many things that Ric was entirely too new in this business to even fathom.

Ric felt certain he wouldn’t soon forget this meeting. Just who the hell was this guy anyway? Ric shifted his gaze to the man who had held a gun to his head only moments before. Despite his lingering uneasiness, Ric leaned forward and extended his hand. “I would say that it’s a pleasure, Mr. Camp, but I wouldn’t want to lie.”

Lucas shook Ric’s hand firmly. “If you’d said it was, I’d have to change my opinion of you.”

“Ric, I have an assignment that I feel you are particularly suited for,” Victoria said, drawing his attention back to her and away from the man who had seriously annoyed him.

Ric straightened in his chair. Maybe he was finally going to get a real assignment. “That’s great,” he said with a new sense of anticipation. It was well past time that Victoria recognized his potential.

She passed a manila folder to him. “This is Piper Ryan,” Victoria explained. “She’s a news correspondent for WYBN-TV in Atlanta.”

Ric opened the folder as he listened. His gaze instantly riveted to the glossy head shot of a young and extraordinarily beautiful woman. “Whoa! This is one hot number.”

“Piper is Lucas’s niece,” Victoria added pointedly.

Ric’s gut clenched. Damn. He lifted his gaze to meet the death ray Lucas aimed in his direction. “I meant beautiful in a sisterly kind of way.”

Lucas’s intense gaze cut to Victoria. “And you’re certain he’s the best man for the job?”

Ric tensed. Damn. His first big chance and he screws up by sticking his big foot in his mouth.

“Quite certain,” Victoria affirmed.

Relief rushed through him. Maybe he hadn’t stepped too far out of line. “What’s the deal with Pi—Miss Ryan?” he inquired, doing his level best to ignore the daggers still emanating from Lucas’s deadly glare.

“One month ago Piper and five other reporters were invited to a secret press conference for a terrorist group called the Soldiers of the Sovereign Union, or SSU.”

Ric nodded. Though he hadn’t seen Piper on the news, he had watched some of the highly publicized results of the secret press conference. He remembered that the reporters had been blindfolded and taken to some remote location. The leader of the group had hoped to garner sympathy in the press. But what the media had reported was anything but sympathetic to the terrorists’ cause.

“I saw a couple of the news reports,” he told Victoria.

“Then you know that to date three of the reporters have died violent deaths at the hands of these people. The FBI is investigating and is providing protection for the remaining reporters, including Piper.”

“What role will I be playing?”

“Lucas is going to coordinate that part of the setup,” Victoria told him. “With your videographer expertise, I’m certain you will fit right in as Piper’s new cameraman. Your assignment will be to shadow her every step.”

“What about after work hours?”

“I’ve taken care of that, too,” Lucas answered this time. “I arranged for Piper’s next-door neighbor to win a two-week vacation in Hawaii. He left today. You’ll be apartment-sitting, so to speak, while he’s vacationing.”

Ric cocked an eyebrow. “And your niece won’t be suspicious of my sudden appearance in both her professional as well as her personal life?”

Lucas met Ric’s questioning gaze. “My niece is a very busy young woman. She won’t waste time wondering anything about you.”

Ignoring the blatant attempt to take him down a couple of notches, Ric smiled politely. “Good.” He rubbed at his chin a moment, his gaze lingering on the older man’s. “It does seem rather strange to me though that you don’t trust the FBI to take care of your niece. Any particular reason?”

Victoria cleared her throat in warning. He was pushing it here.

“I didn’t survive so long in this business without taking extra precautions, Martinez. I never leave anything to chance.”

“Does the FBI have anyone inside?” Ric asked, effectively moving past the nerve he had obviously just hit.

“They have a man in the SSU.” Lucas propped his hand on his cane. “And I have someone special waiting to provide you with any backup you may require.”

“Jack Raine has come out of retirement,” Victoria added for clarification. “He’s the best there is. You can count on him.” She glanced at Lucas. “Though I am surprised you talked him into taking time away from his wife and new son.”

Ric remembered Jack Raine well. His case was legendary around here.

“The bottom line, Martinez,” Lucas interjected, “is that I want someone watching my niece who has no political stake in any of this.” He shifted in his chair, looking directly at Ric now. “I want you to eat, sleep and breathe Piper Ryan until I can stop these bastards.”

“I can do that,” Ric assured him.

“I hope so, Martinez.” Lucas leveled a warning gaze on him. “Because I’m counting on you personally to keep my niece safe. Don’t let me down.”

Ric met his lethal glare. “Trust me, Mr. Camp. Keeping Piper Ryan safe will be a walk in the park.”

Chapter One

“I am so late,” Piper Ryan muttered irritably. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she stared at the endless lines of cars sitting bumper-to-bumper in all three lanes going in her direction. She hated morning rush hour.

Especially on Mondays.

Particularly when she was already late.

The never-ending construction in this swiftly growing area of downtown Atlanta only magnified the undesirable situation. The fact that it was nearly ninety degrees at 9:00 a.m. didn’t help. August dog days were as hot as Hades in the good old South. A little much-needed rain would be nice about now. Anything to cool things off. She had to admit that the one saving grace of this time of year was the beautiful blooming crepe myrtles. And the glossy-leafed magnolias, she added on second thought. They were still lovely, too. A few blooms managed to hang on here and there.

She glanced at her rearview mirror in search of a much more unattractive feature of her life these days. The dark, nondescript sedan that shadowed her every move was three cars back and in the right-hand lane. Piper doubted she was the only one complaining about traffic this morning. The two FBI agents assigned as her security detail were likely less than happy at the moment, as well. Knowing they were there was definitely a comfort, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

Puffing out a burst of frustration, she relaxed more fully into her seat and watched the stalled cluster of disorganization in front of her. Life in the big city, she mused. Wasn’t it just the other day that she had boasted on how she thrived on the excitement and energy of living in one of the fastest growing cities in America today?

Discounting traffic, she should have qualified.

Maybe she would finally get to inch forward when the flagman snapped out of his trance. Assuming he ever did. Piper was relatively certain it was past time for this side of the street to have a turn at moving forward. Anytime now, horns would start blowing and angry shouts would erupt among the sweltering, impatient drivers. Engines weren’t the only things heating up on days like these.

The sound of someone attempting to open her car door jerked Piper’s attention to the driver’s side window. Her gaze collided with the black barrel of a pistol. She blinked, uncertain for a moment that she was actually seeing what her brain told her she was. Seemingly in slow motion she lifted her gaze up to the cold, determined eyes of a man who stared at her with complete, unadulterated hatred.

Before the scream could rip from her throat, a big body, unidentifiable but decidedly male, slammed into the man holding the gun. The loud report of the weapon and the shattering of glass echoed around Piper. Fear wrapped around her and squeezed the air out of her lungs.

“Go!” a male voice commanded.

Without thought, her foot slammed onto the accelerator and her car lurched forward. Expecting to hear the crunch of metal as she plowed into the next vehicle, Piper snapped her attention to the cars in front of her. They were moving. Thank God.

Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly catch her breath. Blood roared in her ears. She glanced down at her side mirror and saw the two men struggling on the pavement’s center line between the two lanes of moving traffic. What if the man who saved her was hit by a car? And who the hell was he? He definitely wasn’t one of the Feds who shadowed her. Just as she reached for her cell phone to call 9-1-1, a charcoal-gray sedan screeched to a sideways halt a couple of cars behind her, stopping the flow of traffic in the two inside lanes.

The FBI agents, easily recognized by their trademark dark suits and sunglasses, bounded out of the car and moved in on the men still rolling around on the pavement.

It was okay now. Piper released a long, shaky breath. You’re okay, she told herself as she drove on. Damn, that was too close. Her uncle Lucas would have a cow when he heard about this.

She wanted to scream. She couldn’t even drive to work without someone approaching her. Of course, if there hadn’t been so much construction and such a lack of organization, she wouldn’t have been stalled in that spot long enough for the incident to occur.

The image of the flagman who’d held up her side of the street so long, and the possibility that he’d been a part of it broadsided her.

“Stay calm, girl,” she said aloud, reaching for any remaining inner strength she could find. But the last month had taken its toll on her ability to face this insanity. There was no way to recognize her enemy. It could be anyone. She shivered. “Don’t let them win,” she murmured fiercely, and clenched her teeth against the fear. She would not fall apart now. Later, when she was at home and alone she would let it out. But not now. She had a job to do.

As she slowed to turn into WYBN-TV’s lot, Piper felt the rage begin to boil inside her, temporarily burning away her gripping terror. She would not let them win. She would not be a prisoner in her own home or in some safe house the way her uncle wanted.

No one was going to take her life away from her.

No one.

The blistering anger fueling her shaky bravado, Piper parked in the secure parking garage beneath the station and emerged from her car. She sighed, disgusted, at the shattered window. She did love her little red sports car. Calling the insurance company and a repair shop would be the first order of business this morning. But at least she wasn’t in an ambulance on her way to the emergency room. The memory of her unknown savior filled her mind. She hoped he wasn’t hurt.

Now, if only there was a way to keep this harrowing event from her uncle and her boss, she considered as she strode toward the stairwell and the security guard waiting there.

But there was no point in trying to keep it a secret. One of her relentless FBI agents had likely already called in the incident to her uncle. Dave probably already knew, as well, considering the guard waiting patiently for her.

Smiling, the man politely opened the door and then followed her in. Defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders as she climbed the stairs leading into the newsroom. Three of the reporters who had attended the doomed press conference were dead already; she and two others remained. Maybe Uncle Lucas was right. The image of that long black barrel flickered before her eyes. Maybe she should go into hiding until it was over.

“No way,” she muttered. Piper lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “No damn way.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE,” Piper instructed as she studied the images on the monitor. “Now go to the skyline and fade.”

“You got it.” Ned’s nimble fingers flew over the keys and the scene ended just as Piper had envisioned it, complete with her voice-over. The story was timed and ready for broadcast.

“Perfect.” She pushed out of her seat, satisfaction sighing through her. “Dave wants to run that package at noon today. Kind of as a teaser for tonight’s prime-time spot.”

“I’ll get it to him ASAP.” Ned smiled up at her. “Great job, Piper. The audience is going to eat it up.”

“Thanks.” She gave Ned an appreciative pat on the shoulder. “I’ll tell Jones you approve. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Jones is definitely top-notch,” Ned agreed. “And so are you.”

Pride welled in Piper as she strode across the WYBN-TV newsroom. Jones was the best cameraman, videographer, he would remind her, in the business. They had worked as a team since her first day as a naive but hungry reporter almost four years ago. Dave, the news director, had made a good choice when he’d teamed the two of them, and Piper would be forever grateful. No matter how hard a good reporter worked, if she and her cameraman weren’t in synch or if they simply didn’t mesh, the results could be disastrous for a fledgling media career.

If this piece on the problems with the ever-growing local gangs garnered the attention she felt certain it would, Piper would owe Jones dinner at Ray’s. She smiled. A table at Ray’s with a view of the Chattahoochee River would be a far cry from the drive-through cuisine they usually grabbed on the run to a breaking news scene. There was never time to waste in this business. Dave’s motto was News Happens Now, and he was a firm believer in not allowing the moment to pass.

Ringing telephones and the buzz of conversation underscored the steady hum of newsroom activity. Several twenty-four-hour news shows were currently showing on the overhead monitors. The new desk assistant raced around with his notepad delivering phone messages and instructions from the news director. Reporters shuffled papers around on their desks to find a clean space on which to write the passed-on information. Piper felt herself smiling again. This was the heart of the station. No matter what the prime-time anchor would say, or anyone in any other department, the lifeblood of WYBN flowed right here in this room with the beat reporters.

And Piper Ryan was incredibly grateful to be a part of it. According to her agent, her recent notoriety beyond the local viewing area was the first step in moving up the ladder. Dave wouldn’t be able to keep her much longer. And she would surely miss this place. Her agent was already feeling out larger markets. But she would not go anywhere that Jones couldn’t go with her. They were a package deal. She might be Atlanta’s “sweetheart,” but Jones was the one who captured it all on film for the world to see. Dave Sullenger would just have to be prepared to lose them both.

No two ways about it.

“Piper!”

Speak of the devil, Piper glanced toward the news director’s office. He waved from the open door, motioning for her to join him. They’d already had their Monday-morning staff meeting; surely nothing had changed in the last hour. She hadn’t mentioned why she’d been late, and was more than a little surprised he hadn’t questioned her. She supposed that the Feds had decided to follow their own chain of command. And she could see no point in sending Dave’s blood pressure into the red this early in the morning. He’d hear about it soon enough, she felt certain. As soon as the Feds had relayed the event to Lucas, he would call Dave and rant at him again for allowing Piper to continue working the territory.

She pushed the thought away. She had to find Jones and head out. She had an interview set up with several families residing in Hope Place, the area currently suffering from serious gang problems. Next week it would be another block near that same area. It was an ever-evolving situation. But this time someone was trying to make a difference, trying to break that never-ending cycle.

Thus, a serious, in-depth look into the increasing gang problems in Atlanta’s less fortunate areas had been born. Piper planned for the story to include about five segments. And hopefully, call enough official attention to the issue to get something done. In an effort to help themselves, the families in the area now hit with the most strife had formed a neighborhood watch, which was good, but they needed far more help from local law enforcement. If telling the ugly truth on the news would get the residents that attention, Piper would take it as far as she could.

“What’s up?” Piper paused at her boss’s door and waited expectantly for whatever it was he wanted to say.

“There’s a situation we need to discuss that I didn’t want to bring up in this morning’s staff meeting.”

Dave looked too serious. He had that you’re-not-going-to-like-what-I’m-about-to-tell-you air about him. Tension raced up Piper’s spine. “What kind of situation?”

“Jones had to take an emergency leave. He’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks.”

Piper blinked, taken aback. “But I just talked to Jones last night. He didn’t mention anything to me then.”

“He didn’t know until this morning. It’s a personal family issue that he didn’t want to discuss at length. So he left for Detroit on the first available flight this morning.”

It must have been really urgent for Jones to leave without so much as a quick call to Piper. She couldn’t remember him ever doing that before. They were more than co-workers. They were friends. “I should call and see if there’s anything I can do,” she said more to herself than to Dave.

“I’m—I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” Dave hemmed and hawed. “Jones gave me the impression that it was a very private matter and that he would call us when he could.”

Piper flared her hands in a gesture of bewilderment. The whole thing sounded entirely too clandestine and made absolutely no sense at all. “Well, okay, if that’s the way it has to be.”

“In the meantime I’ve got a new cameraman for you,” Dave went on. At Piper’s distressed expression, he added, “Don’t worry. He’s only temporary until Jones gets back.”

“I didn’t know we had any new temps.” Piper tried to stay on top of personnel changes at the station. It made life easier when you needed something in a hurry. And she was relatively certain that no new faces had appeared recently. Well, other than the desk assistant, but he’d been there a couple of weeks already. Tech support personnel were usually replaced by temps who had understudied to the point that their ability to do the job could be counted on. It was the first rule of the station’s manager.

“I interviewed the guy just a few minutes ago,” Dave explained. “Here he is now.” The news director shifted his gaze beyond Piper. “Martinez, I’d like to introduce you to Piper Ryan.”

Great, just what she needed, some hotshot off the street. Piper turned to greet WYBN’s newest staff member. She felt her mouth drop open the moment her gaze lit on the guy in question, but she was too stunned to snap it shut again. A tall, extraordinarily handsome man walked slowly toward her. His hair was short and raven’s-wing black. A square jaw and chiseled features lent masculinity to a face that was most accurately described by the word perfection. And then there was that body. Piper felt the air rush out of her lungs as her gaze moved over that awesome body. Broad, broad shoulders were covered in one of those black silk shirts that wasn’t tucked into his black, loose-fitting trousers, the cutting edge of fashion. The man looked as if he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ.

He definitely did not look anything like any cameraman Piper had ever met. To make matters worse, the closer he came to her, the more convinced she grew that he knew just exactly how handsome he was, too. Confidence screamed in every move that lithe, muscular frame made. His walk, his posture, every part of him exuded blatant, cocky male attitude and a kind of smooth rhythm that made her mouth go dry. But it wasn’t until he stopped directly in front of her that Piper was certain of her assumption. It was right there in those dark, devastatingly alluring eyes that said, Close your mouth, baby, ’cause I already know just how good I look.

This man didn’t belong behind a camera, Piper protested silently. He belonged in front of one decked out in Ralph Lauren’s latest. Either that or on MTV belting out a Latin pop song and showing off that to-die-for body and the seductive moves he could no doubt execute. But he damned sure didn’t look like a cameraman Piper wanted to drag around Atlanta for the next two weeks. And if his ego in any way compared to the attitude that emanated from every square inch of his unbelievable body, she wasn’t sure it would fit into the WYBN-TV news van.

“Ric Martinez,” the Latin hunk said smoothly, then extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ryan.” Just a hint of south-of-the-border flavor accented his rich baritone.

Several seconds passed before Piper had the presence of mind to place her hand in his, and when she did, she lost whatever ground she had gained. Long fingers curled around her hand, sending a shiver through her, followed immediately by a flash of heat.

“Could you excuse me, please, Mr. Martinez?” she said abruptly, yanking her hand back with equal suddenness. Swiping her tingling palm against her hip, Piper rounded on her boss and ushered him backward into his office. She waited for the door to close behind them before she spoke.