Forged in Desire (The Protectors) by Brenda Jackson

Author:Brenda Jackson [Jackson, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-01-31T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MARGO WONDERED WHY Striker was so uptight about his boss arriving with Quasar. She could only assume the security firm had a no-fraternization policy. If they did, the last thing she wanted to do was get Striker in trouble, though what they’d done in the shower had been the kind of trouble she’d enjoyed. He definitely wasn’t out of the woods yet for spying on her. She would have to think of a way to make him pay. Her mind was suddenly filled with a number of ideas. All of them were simply scandalous and all of them made her smile.

“What’s that smile for?”

She glanced over at him as they entered the kitchen. “Want a list?” Before Striker could give her an answer, there was a knock at the back door. “Sounds like our food has arrived,” she said.

She stepped aside, watched as he drew his gun in case her assumption was wrong. “Who is it?” He barked out the question.

“Quasar and Roland.”

Striker moved toward the door and she knew to remain back until he’d verified their visitors. Once he had, he slid his gun back into the holster. Quasar walked in and he shot her a friendly smile, which she returned. “Good morning, Quasar.”

“Good morning, Margo.”

She then looked at the man with Quasar, presumably Roland Summers. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way and immediately reminded her of someone. There was something about the shape of his eyes and mouth.

Margo guessed he was in his late thirties or early forties. It was obvious he was the one in control, although Quasar and Striker seemed relaxed around him, making it quite obvious both men had a close working relationship with their boss.

Striker glanced over at her and said, “Margo, I’d like you to meet Roland Summers.”

Margo crossed the room. Was she imagining it or was he studying her with keen interest? There was nothing sexual about it, but it was as if he was trying to figure her out. She extended her hand. “Mr. Summers.”

He took it and smiled. “Ms. Connelly. And please call me Roland. I take it Striker is doing a good job keeping you safe.”

She smiled. “Yes. I have no complaints. He’s protecting me, and that’s what matters.”

At that moment Striker’s phone went off. Margo was beginning to recognize the specific ringtones and knew it was Stonewall. The intense look that suddenly appeared on his face drew her attention.

Margo’s heart began beating deep in her chest when he clicked off the line. “There’s been another shooting, hasn’t there?”

Her question got everyone’s attention. Margo’s heart almost stopped when a grim-faced Striker nodded. “A news reporter who was at the courthouse that day has been killed.”

* * *

WRAPPING AN ARM around Margo, Striker led her over to the kitchen table to sit down. “You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

She patted his arm as if to assure him that she was. “Yes. I expected to hear what you said, but when you actually said it, I—”

“You looked like you were about to pass out.

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