Indestructible Read online

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  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright ©2010 by Kimber Chin

  First published in 2010

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Other Books By Kimber Chin

  Indestructible

  About Kimber

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  * * * *

  A Champagne Books Short Story

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  Indestructible

  By

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  Kimber Chin

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  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright (C) 2009 by PKCS Incorporated

  April 2010

  Produced in Canada

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  Champagne Books

  #35069-4604 37 ST SW

  Calgary, AB T3E 7C7

  Canada

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  Other Books By Kimber Chin

  Breach Of Trust

  Invisible

  Flawless

  Released

  Bumped

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  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Indestructible

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  "Tavos is a good boss. He's tough.” The pregnant blonde rubbed her swollen belly with silk covered fingers. “But he's fair."

  For the past ten minutes, Mrs. Santos had been hard-selling Renata on working here. Here, in this idyllic paradise where employees joked, and laughed, and ate banana bread off fine china plates on the back lawn. There was a natural inclination to stare when faced with such absurdity. Renata resisted, instead gazing down at her practical shoes.

  "This has to be stressful, you being so shy.” She patted her hand. “But don't worry, you'll get to know everyone eventually.” Mrs. Santos chattered on, the buzz of the other employees around them. This informal party had been thrown together to welcome her, a lowly maid, to the team.

  Except she wasn't a maid and she wasn't part of the team. Renata curled her toes, digging them into the ugly shoes’ padded insole.

  "Jack,” Mrs. Santos called out, genuine glee adding a syllable to the simple name. “Come meet Renata."

  Jack, the head of security. Her opponent. Renata kept her head down, her shoulders rounded. A shuffling step drew nearer, a slight dragging of the left leg. Weakness. One she could exploit?

  "Renata.” The lilt of laughter in a deep voice.

  "Mr. Jack.” Capitulating to curiosity, she examined him through lowered eyelashes. A dark handsome face, smiling lips, keen eyes. Too keen. She glanced back down again. She had to be careful.

  "Renata is shy.” A gloved hand hugged her close. Hugged her. A complete stranger. Too trusting. She had to fix that. “I expect you, Jack, to take care of her."

  "I'll keep a close eye on Renata, Miss."

  Exactly what she didn't want. The warmth of that all-seeing gaze swept over her body, looking for weakness. In a maid. Renata's lips twitched, amused. He could look all he wanted. He wouldn't find any.

  "Not too close, Jack.” A finger wave. “He's a bit of a lady's man,” Mrs. Santos whispered into her ear.

  That Renata believed. Power attracted women and Jack throbbed with it.

  A chuckle. “Don't believe everything Miss tells you, Renata. I belong to no one lady.” A declaration of his single status.

  That drew a giggle from Mrs. Santos. “You're a bad, bad man, Jack. You'll make Renata blush."

  Blushing was too much for Renata's acting abilities. Instead, she bit the corner of her lip, her best portrayal of innocence. A sharp intake of breath. Jack was interested.

  As was she.

  Mrs. Santos was oblivious to their byplay. “Did you see what Tavos made the baby?” She held out a silver rattle to Jack, a lovingly crafted work of art, for an infant not yet born.

  As she'd been shown the gift already, this was Renata's cue to exit. “If you'll excuse me, Miss.” She ducked away before Jack could ask the questions written on his face.

  "She's shy.” Renata heard Mrs. Santos explain again as she dashed across the lawn.

  Shy, his ass. Jack watched the willowy figure dart along the pathway. There was something not quite right about this Renata person. Like the way she walked, the sway of her hips enticing; that was the siren call of a confident woman, not of the quiet, skittish girl she portrayed.

  "You're not paying attention, Jack.” Miss smiled at him, a knowing glimmer in her violet eyes. “And I can guess why.” Teasing. “She's pretty, isn't she?"

  Jack frowned. “It's not that, Miss.” He didn't want her spinning romantic fairytales. This was a security issue. “What do you know about her?"

  "She hurts.” Empathy. Miss knew hurt. “I like her and she was Tavos’ hire. That's enough for me.” A shrug. “It should be enough for you too."

  It wasn't enough. Because the safety of everyone here, his eyes scanned over the crowd, depended on him. The last time he took that responsibility lightly, loved ones died. Jack put more weight on his left leg, feeling the pain.

  Marie approached them, her attention on the rattle Miss waved around, Carlos following. More baby talk, Jack inwardly groaned. “I'll go see if Renata's okay,” he excused himself.

  "Oh, you do that, Jack.” Mrs. Santos’ laughter followed him.

  He found Renata standing on the front steps, leaning forward at an impossible-to-maintain angle, staring out at the driveway, wind blowing her dark curls back off her face. His breath caught. He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

  "You keeping an eye on me, Mr. Jack?"

  She knew it was him. He made no sound, his tread deliberately soft. She didn't turn her head. Yet she knew. Who was she? “Miss worries about you.” It wasn't an outright lie. Miss worried about everyone.

  "Does she?” She looked back over her shoulder. Blue eyes. His good knee faltered. With her dark coloring, that was near impossible. She smiled slightly, amusement making those unusual eyes sparkle before turning back to study the driveway.

  "You wear contacts?” Why would she bring attention to herself in that way? When the dowdy way she dressed screamed ‘ignore me'?

  Another smile. “I usually do because of...,” She waved her hand at him. “But that wasn't allowed so...,"

  Allowed? By whom? “So?"

  "So, the eyes are mine.” She positioned her legs with her heels together, toes sticking out, feet in a straight line, and bent her knees. A difficult move done without thought. “If that's what you're asking. I'm a freak of nature, Mr. Jack, like black panthers and albino gorillas."

  No, she was rare and beautiful like scorpionfish found on Belize's reefs. And as with the deadly scorpionfish, Jack would exercise caution handling Renata. “Not Mr. Jack, Jack,” he corrected.

  "Jack.” She glowed. “No need for Miss to worry. I'll be alright. You can g
o back to the party,” she dismissed him. Like he wasn't the head of security.

  "Why are you here, Renata?” She was no maid.

  He caught the admiration in her eyes before her gaze flew downwards. Why would his direct question impress her? And why did that please him?

  "I need money, of course.” She was back to talking to her feet, her sudden submissiveness not fooling him.

  "No one works here for the money.” Tavos Santos required more loyalty from his staff, salary was too flimsy a bond.

  "I needed a change.” A vague answer as she balanced on her toes.

  "From what?” Her resume had been unrealistically sparse. A list of short term cleaning placements at private homes backed up with references. With the baby coming, the Boss had completed the detailed reference check himself, Jack merely confirming their existence with a brief follow up call. A decision he now regretted.

  "We should return to the party,” she changed the subject, spinning around, her movement fluid, graceful.

  Like a dancer... or an assassin. “Renata."

  "Yes, Jack?” Those sensuous blue eyes met his.

  "I'll be watching you.” He gave her a half smile to soften his words, in case he was mistaken.

  Renata laughed. Laughed! “You do that.” And she skipped away.

  Cameras in the staff bedrooms. Jack was thorough. Renata crouched by her door, a body shaped pile of clothing left beneath her bed sheets. Her amateurish trick good enough to fool a quick glance. Nothing more. To pull this off, speed was necessary.

  She pressed her ear against the wood, listening. Silence. No one in the hallway. She bit back a sense of disappointment. Jack, after following her all day, had given

  up.

  A mistake she'd take advantage of. Tonight. If she waited, she might not get another chance. Jack already suspected her. He'd poke and pry and, eventually, find a hole in her story.

  Because he was good. A shiver of excitement rippled her skin. Her greatest challenge yet. No blunders could be made.

  Renata slipped in tabs to fool the security sensors before exiting, opened the door only wide enough to fit through, and closed it behind her. She flattened her body, the door frame shielding her from the cameras.

  She scanned the hallway. Although it was two in the morning, every light was on. There wasn't a single shadow to hide in. The sensors were there, and there, and there. There were gaps in the coverage. Small, but enough. She counted as the cameras swept the area. A timing error. Right... there.

  She smiled. She could do this. She'd done this before. She counted, waiting for the camera to rotate, contracted her body, and—

  "Don't even think about it.” A deep voice, a door frame away.

  Renata relaxed against the door. Jack must have been standing there the entire time, she hadn't heard him approach. Tenacious, determined. She smiled. Like her. She would have done the same.

  What to do now? He killed the plan for tonight, but she might be able to buy herself another opportunity. If she used all the weapons in her arsenal.

  "Jack.” The deep throaty sexiness was no act. He was the best and she wanted him. When this was done, she would have him. “You waited up for me."

  "I told you I'd be watching you.” He stepped out into the hall, large and lean and very, very angry.

  "Are you?” She ran her fingers down her neck, over her chest, his gaze following. “Watching? Do you like what you see?"

  He stood so close, she felt his body heat. She could reach out and— “I called your references, Renata."

  Damn. Right when she thought she couldn't want him more, he had to smite her with his intelligence. “They said

  good things, I hope.” She licked her bottom lip.

  His brown eyes darkened. “I pulled their credit reports."

  Luckily she had ensured they had credit reports. “They have big houses, fancy cars.” Everything a maid would know. She arched against the door, hands spread on the wood.

  "I asked them questions.” He grasped the frame, trapping her in between himself and the door. “They didn't remember their own birthdays, Renata."

  She should have paid for more brain cells. “They're older, they get confused.” She tilted her face up to his, opening her mouth slightly.

  "Are they? Not according to their birth dates.” He leaned in closer. He smelled of citrus, sandalwood, man and vengeance. “You're coming with me.” His hand lashed out, lightning fast.

  Not fast enough. Renata dodged, ducking under his arm. “I'm not going with you, Jack. Not yet.” Later, he could take her anywhere he wanted. “This is between me and your boss."

  "Like hell it is.” Jack glowered at the woman poised on the tiled floor, hating himself, and her, for what he had to do. There was no choice. She was a security risk and he'd deal with her. The only way an assassin such as her could be dealt with. “There's no escape, Renata. You'll never get off the compound alive but if you cooperate, I'll make this painless."

  "Painless?” Those rare, beautiful eyes glittered.

  She'd have to die. He knew that. She knew that. Jack didn't bother answering.

  "You think you can kill me, Jack,” she taunted, a blade now in each hand, erasing any lingering doubt that she had come here to kill.

  "No thinking about it.” His gun was in his hand. He was good with a knife but he wouldn't risk lives to prove that skill. “I know I can."

  She moved, a blur of motion. His finger tightened on the trigger. A sting high on his cheek. She bounced back. He touched his skin in disbelief. Sticky. Wet. Blood. The devil woman had cut him. “Renata,” he growled.

  She laughed, unscathed and not at all repentant. “I

  like you, Jack.” She circled him, in constant motion. “So tell you what. I won't kill you. I'll only cut you up a little."

  "In thirty seconds, a dozen guns will be on you.” He heard them coming.

  "That's all it'd take.” Knives spun in her hand. “To kill you."

  "No fuckin’ killing, Renata.” An amused voice from the entrance. Piss. The Boss. “That was our agreement."

  Agreement? Jack didn't have time to ask. The men arrived, skidding on the tile. Carlos first, his bare chest heaving, breathing hard, his gun on Renata, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. “Boss?” Jack asked. It was his call.

  "Your response time blows.” The Boss leveled a hard look on the growing crowd. “As soon as she fuckin’ pulls a knife, you be here.” Another pissed off perusal making grown men tremble. “Now go away.” He turned his back to his security team. “Eighteen fuckin’ hours, Jack. She could have killed us all."

  "She was never out of my sight, Boss.” All day long he had watched her stretch and bend and twist, thinking her the enemy, outside his touch.

  She wasn't the enemy. And he was so frustrated, he didn't care what else she was. Once the Boss dealt with him, he would deal with her.

  "Did she or did she not touch my fuckin’ wife?” Normally dead eyes blazed. The Boss swung that skewering gaze on Renata. “Could you have killed her?"

  A tilt of her head. “Without dying, no.” Then she hopped on one foot, along a grout line, as though this was a game. “You have the tightest security I've ever seen.” Ever seen?

  "And those other assholes whose security you saw? Where are they now?"

  The hopping stopped. Her wounded blue eyes snapped up and held Jack's. “Dead."

  Jack didn't blink. He wasn't shocked she killed them. He knew what she was. What shocked him was how much he wanted her.

  As she wanted him, her slow smile conveyed that before Renata twirled and hopped back the other way.

  "Dead. Fuck. Exactly.” Mr. Santos’ grim mouth

  twisted. “You didn't reach my bedroom so you fucked up the grand prize but you did last eighteen fuckin’ hours. That earns you a week. At the end of that, Jack decides if you stay or if you go. Understand?"

  Dark curls bounced.

  "Stay?” Jack struggled to concentrate on business as Renat
a positioned herself into a bridge. “As what?"

  "As a bodyguard, Jack. What the fuck do you think?” The Boss stared pointedly at his bloody cheek.

  A bodyguard. This graceful creature. “We always hire men.” Brutes no sane person would mess with.

  "Newsflash, jackass, I'm married. Got a wife now.” As though reminded, the Boss turned and stalked back in the direction of his bedroom. “Likely have a fuckin’ fit.” Jack heard him mutter.

  Leaving Jack alone with Renata. He leaned to the right, relieving the stress on his left knee, and crossed his arms.

  That defensive move seemed to amuse her. She laughed, straightening. “Looks like I'm working for you now, Boss.” Renata walked towards him, hips swaying.

  He watched her approach, painfully aware of her. “For the week."

  "For forever.” She circled him.

  He pivoted on his good leg, keeping her in sight. “We'll see."

  "You don't think I can do it?” Her face grew even more animated.

  That she thrived on a challenge was reflected in her sparkling eyes, but this wasn't merely a challenge, it was impossible. “No.” There were very few trained bodyguards he'd add to the team. Renata was unseasoned. She didn't stand a chance.

  She leapt forward and the cut on his cheek smarted with wet warmth. Hell. He caught her, his hand circling a tiny wrist. She'd licked him. The devil woman had licked the blood off him.

  It was too much. “Come here.” He yanked her out of view of the cameras. He bent her over, ignoring the pain in his knee, ignoring everything except her, warm and vividly alive in his arms. He devoured her lips, using his mouth to communicate his frustration. She met him kiss for kiss, leaning into him, a death grip on the back of his neck, pressing him further into her.

  When they broke away, both were panting. “This won't influence my decision,” he warned her. He'd never allow passion to affect safety.

  "Good.” She slid out of his embrace, softly laughing as, kiss drunk, he tried to catch her. “I don't want it to. I don't need it to. I'll earn my spot. Fair and square."