Big Bad Marine Page 2

  Aw, shit.

  A muscle in West’s jaw ticked. Protesting too much always looked suspicious and he really didn’t want her asking questions about his motivations for this job. He also didn’t want to refuse her when she needed help.

  Christ, he’d still be drinking away his sorrows along with the contents of his wallet if it hadn’t been for her, so really, it was the least he could do.

  How are you going to handle little Miss Panty Status Update then?

  He had no fucking idea. Right now, though, if Duchess needed him to help then help he would.

  “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’ll take her.”

  The set of Duchess’s shoulders relaxed, which in anyone else would have been a full-on sigh of relief. “Thanks West. I’ll owe you.”

  “No, you won’t.” He pushed himself up from the chair, ignoring the coil of what felt horribly like anticipation that settled inside him. “I guess her paperwork’s all in order?”

  “Yes. Got the license last week.”

  “Equipment?”

  “Come on, she’s had the equipment for months already. If not years.”

  That didn’t surprise him. Rose had been eager to start her career as a fugitive recovery agent since the day Duchess had first opened the doors. Unfortunately for Rose – though fortunately for everyone else – the legal age to become an agent was twenty one, so Duchess had given her the delicate and complicated task of skip tracing – which involved tracking bail jumpers via digital records – instead. Luckily for the agency, Rose was crazy good with a computer and she’d proved a natural.

  “Going to be one hell of a long drive,” he muttered, because there was no way they could fly, not if he wanted to bring his weapons with him. “Hope she’s up for that.”

  “She can cope,” Duchess said.

  Yeah, he was pretty sure Rose could. Whether he would was another story altogether.

  Rose sat at her computer and tried to look like she was doing something instead of straining to hear what was going on behind the closed door of her sister’s office.

  Goddamn West. He was going to say no, wasn’t he?

  She stabbed at her return key, glaring sightlessly at the screen and taking absolutely no notice of what was on it.

  For years she’d wanted this, freaking years. And now she was finally old enough and Lily had gotten down off her high horse to let her go, that asshole was going to say no.

  Dammit. It wasn’t like there weren’t other agents at Duchess Bail Bonds. There was Nora, who was a major badass and who Rose secretly aspired to be when she grew up, though she’d never admit it out loud. Or Rhys, who was another major badass and who Rose was in awe of, another thing she’d never admit out loud. Why couldn’t she tag along with them if West was going to be a stupid douche-canoe about it?

  But that was a dumb question. She already knew what Lily would say. That Nora wasn’t experienced enough and that Rhys was a little too dangerous. Annoying when Nora’d had quite a bit of experience in Rose’s humble opinion and Rhys, well, okay, the ex-hitman was dangerous, not to mention scary. But so? Wasn’t that a good thing when it came to hunting skips?

  Whatever, it was a moot point. Lily had already made it plain to Rose that if anyone was going to be a mentor to her, it would be West. Because he’d known them for years, he was experienced, and basically he was the only one Lily would trust with her baby sister.

  Reason number fifty million why being Lily’s baby sister sucked.

  Not that Rose was unhappy about West being a potential mentor – at least, she wouldn’t have been if he’d shown even the slightest sign that he was as into her as she was into him. But he hadn’t and it rankled, and she just couldn’t stop herself from needling at him. Which made things very difficult.

  She didn’t know why she couldn’t leave him alone, because she wanted to. Being constantly treated like a bratty teenager was trying in the best of circumstances and she would have preferred it if she could have ignored him.

  Sadly though, a month earlier as they’d been celebrating Rhys and his girlfriend Vivi getting together at a bar a couple of doors down from the office, she’d seen him chat up the blonde barmaid. Which would have been fine – aggravating and jealousy-making, but fine – if he hadn’t then gone home with her at the end of the night.

  But he had gone home with her and what was worse, had turned up late for work the next morning with a giant hickey on his neck, looking so smug and self-satisfied Rose had wanted to punch him.

  Except she couldn’t punch him, because he wasn’t hers and he never would be, and so she’d settled on making a complete and utter nuisance of herself instead.

  Needling him and acting up to get his attention wasn’t exactly mature and she knew that, but she had no idea how else she could get him to see her as the woman she was now and not the little girl he used to protect.

  God, he was just so…

  “Rose,” a deep, husky voice said from behind her, and like it always did her heart started racing and her breath caught hard in her throat. As if she was a silly teenager in the presence of her favorite Hollywood movie star.

  Man, she hated how gone she was on him.

  Slowly, she spun her chair around.

  There he was, standing right behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. Big and mean and dangerous in faded denim and a black T-shirt, with his buzz-cut dark blond hair and those astonishingly clear, charcoal-gray eyes. Not to mention the big ole Texas drawl that rolled over her like honey.

  There was nothing about him that didn’t turn her on and that was the very essence of the complicated, convoluted, crazy-beautiful problem of West O’Connor: he was just. So. Goddamn. Hot.

  Rose tipped her head back and looked up at him – and it was way up since he was tall. “So are you continuing to bounty-block me, asshole?”

  “Is that what they’re calling wanting to protect your baby sister from being shot in the head by some dick skip these days?”

  “Ha. Ha. For a second your joke was so good I nearly laughed.” She stretched out her legs, placing one sandaled foot on either side of his boots. A deliberately provocative move since her denim mini didn’t exactly cover a lot as it was, and with her legs spread a little, it covered even less.

  West, damn him, didn’t look down. He kept those sharp gray eyes on her face, which had the unfortunate effect of making the need to poke at him even more acute.

  Hell. Why did she have to feel this way about him? Why couldn’t she smile and shrug her shoulders and let it go?

  But she couldn’t, never had. Not since Duchess had hired him to protect them from her asshole ex. Rose had been sixteen at the time and had hated him being constantly around, all hulking and large and cramping her style. Then she’d grown up, had started to see him as a man. Had started to want him and now she wanted him to want her back.

  Glancing up from beneath her lashes, she gave him a wicked grin. “Do I look like anyone’s baby sister to you?”

  West, the complete prick, gave her a detached and very solid once-over, making it completely clear that there was nothing sexual whatsoever in it. “Yeah. Actually you do.”

  Reflexive annoyance shot through her and she was very tempted to give him a kick with the heel of her sandal, not that it would have hurt him since cork wasn’t exactly sharp. And it would mean acknowledging that he’d gotten to her, which she couldn’t do either.

  Also, his reflexes are probably lightning fast and you wouldn’t even be able to kick him anyway.

  This was all true. West was a former Marine and definitely a guy who could take care of himself, and maybe that was why she got such a charge out of needling him the way she did. Like a lamb chewing the end of a lion’s tail just for the thrill of seeing him pounce. Not that he’d ever pounced on her. Not once. Dammit.

  Rose satisfied herself with a glare instead. “So, I guess that’s a ‘no’ then?”

  “It’s not.” West’s battered, handsome face hardened.
“Duchess wants you to come to Vegas with me for your first job and I’ve decided to allow it. As a special favor to her.”

  Rose blinked, speechless for a change.

  She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t wanted to be part of Lily’s team. Right from when Duchess Bail Bonds had opened, Rose had wanted to be one of them. Donning flak jackets and wearing badges and carrying hand guns, busting open doors and detaining criminals. It had all sounded so exciting.

  Lily had tried to encourage her into various other careers back when she’d still been at school, but Rose had never been a kid who’d liked sitting still or studying, and the thought of being a lawyer or a doctor had sounded so boring. She wanted to do stuff, not look at books all day and take exams.

  She’d toyed with the idea of joining the police force or going into the army – both suggestions Lily had looked on with extreme disapproval – but the idea of following orders had never appealed to her either, so she’d discounted both early on.

  No, she’d set her heart on bounty hunting and nothing had dissuaded her from it. Not even a couple of years sitting behind a computer screen doing skip-tracing – which she kind of enjoyed since it kept her brain occupied, yet hated at the same time because it meant sitting behind a desk – had changed her views.

  She wanted to be a fugitive recovery agent and yeah, pretty much for the fun and the excitement. But there was also another part to it that she kept on the down-low, mainly because of Lily. She wanted to learn about the business, she wanted to be part of all of it for the simple fact that her sister worked too damn hard and Rose wanted to be able to take some of that burden off her.

  But Lily was a control freak and so independent that if her house was burning down, she’d try and put it out herself, even if the whole goddamn fire department was standing right next to her. ‘Help’ was in not her vocabulary. Which meant that if Rose wanted to do something for her, she had to do it sneakily. And getting in a bit of bounty hunting practice in preparation for getting Lily to take some time off was as sneaky as it got.

  Except she couldn’t get that practice if no one took her on for a job and she’d been starting to worry it would never happen.

  No longer.

  Rose stared at West for what felt like a whole minute. Then she shoved herself out of her chair and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck without thinking. “Oh my God, thank you!” she exclaimed breathlessly, squeezing him tight out of genuine thankfulness rather than anything flirtatious.

  West stiffened, his big, hard body going rigid. Then before she could react, his large hands were on her hips and he was pushing her away, not gently. “What the hell are you doing?” His dark gold brows were drawn down into a scowl, his mouth with its full, oddly sensual under-lip in a firm line. “I’m not doing this for you, remember?”

  Yeah, what are you doing hugging him? And without even copping a feel?

  Rose tried to ignore the sting of hurt at how quickly he’d pulled her away, refusing to let it get to her. “What? I can’t even show you my appreciation with a little hug?” She backed away to the desk and pushed herself up on top of it, letting her legs swing. “I’m beginning to think you can’t handle women.”

  West shoved his hands into his pockets and eyed her. “Oh, I can handle women, darlin’. It’s little girls I have problems with.”

  Asshole. If there was one thing she hated it was the way he kept up with the ‘little girl’ and most especially the ‘darlin’’, spoken in his husky, deep, delicious drawl. The former made her want to hiss like an offended cat, while the latter made her toes curl and her skin get all hot and prickly and tight.

  God, her physical reactions to him were all so predictable and cliched she wanted to scream.

  More than a few times since she’d turned twenty one, she’d gone out to a bar, looking for a guy who might do it for her the way West did, but she hadn’t managed to find one. They all seemed so…bland in comparison to him. So dull and unexciting. They didn’t even seem like men at all, with their perfectly done hair, nicely manicured hands and perfectly pressed suits. And some of them…God, with their quiet manners and non-aggressive attitudes. Waiting for her to take the lead.

  Nope, she didn’t want that. She wanted to be challenged. To be thrilled. To be excited. She wanted a man who wouldn’t put up with bullshit, who had a will as strong as her own. A man who liked a fight as much as she did and who liked to win. A dangerous man.

  West Damn O’Connor in other words.

  “I don’t see any little girls around here.” She tilted her head as she swung her legs. “Though if you can’t handle them, then seriously, you have a problem.”

  West didn’t blink. He merely stared straight at her. “If you want to come with me, you’re gonna to have to rethink your attitude. Are we clear?”

  Her fingers tightened on the edge of her desk, a thrill chasing down her spine. “Ooh, I do like it when you get all tough and commanding. Let me guess, no talking back to the boss man, huh? Or what? I get a spanking?”

  A flare of pure silver sparked in West’s gaze, but then it was gone so fast she wondered if she’d even seen it at all. “Meet me in my office at the end of the day,” he said shortly. “We’ll go through it then.”

  Rose pursed her lips. “Hmmm. Not sure my schedule’s free. I might have to—”

  “Be there or don’t come.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, heading toward his office.

  Rose glared at his powerful, retreating back, only just mastering the urge to raise a middle finger in his direction.

  “I need to talk to you, Rose.”

  Rose tore her gaze from West and turned to find her sister standing in the doorway of her office, her icy blue eyes measuring.

  “West said he was taking me on the job. Is that true?”

  “Yes.” Lily stood aside from the door. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  Great. So she was up for two lectures in one day. One from her sister and one from West. Awesome.

  Stifling a sigh, Rose pushed herself off the desk and sauntered into Lily’s office, finding a perch on her sister’s desk instead.

  Lily shut the door behind her then stood there for a second, her arms folded in a posture that was very West-like. Her gaze was direct and made Rose uncomfortable.

  “You have to stop this,” Lily said levelly. “And before you say ‘stop what’, you know what I mean.”

  Rose opened her mouth. Then shut it. No points for guessing what it was Lily meant. Her sister wasn’t stupid – unfortunately – nor was she blind. She knew what was going on. Once, a couple of years ago, Rose had made the mistake of telling Lily she had a crush on West and Lily had told her very, very firmly that it was completely wrong, not to mention inappropriate. West was a family friend nearly fifteen years older than her, and apart from anything else, it was a crush that would be forever unrequited since West didn’t feel that way about Rose.

  Her sister was fiercely protective and considering Lily’s own horrible relationship with the disgusting Mason, her ex, Rose could see where she’d been coming from. But her reaction had been crushing enough that Rose had never mentioned it again. Though unfortunately, her secret longing for West had remained unabated.

  Except, apparently it wasn’t so secret after all.

  Rose worked very hard to not let herself get embarrassed by stuff and so she fought the urge to blush, picking up one of Lily’s pens and playing with it instead. “Are we going to have a talk about how inappropriate I am?” she asked carefully, turning the pen over and over between her fingers. “Because West’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Rose.” Lily’s tone was uncompromising. “It’s not about what West can handle. It’s about you making an idiot of yourself. And that’s not what you want to do on your first job.”

  She’s right.

  Rose scowled at the pen, feeling sulky and bad-tempered. Yeah, she had a problem with
West, but the problem wasn’t his, it was hers. “Okay, okay,” she said, knowing she sounded petulant and not being able to help it. “I hear you.”

  “This job is a big deal,” Lily went on, because she always did when she was in a lecturing mood. “And we need all the successes we can get right now. We can’t afford to screw up because you’re not mature enough to handle being in one man’s company for a few days.”

  Stung, Rose dropped the pen back on the desk and looked at her sister. “Hey, I get it, okay?”

  “Do you, Rose?” Lily’s expression was hard, which made Rose feel a little sick to be honest. Not that Lily had ever been the gentle, loving type, but hell, even a couple of years ago she’d smiled more. Been less of a hard-ass. “Because this is serious. We’re in a cutthroat business and we can’t afford to lose a skip.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with the business?”

  But Lily only shook her head. “Nothing. I’m only reminding you that this isn’t a game, okay?”

  And that was a crock right there. She could tell. There were shadows under Lily’s eyes and a certain pallor to her skin. Her sister was worried about something, no doubt about it.

  “Lil?” Rose narrowed her gaze, ignoring the game jibe. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Lily said dismissively. “Now, there’s a few things I’m going to need to go over with—”

  At that moment the door opened and a man stepped into the office. Tall. Dark. With the greenest eyes Rose had ever seen.

  “Asshole alert,” she muttered under her breath. “Quinn Redmond at two o’clock.”

  Lily turned around and Rose didn’t miss the sudden gleam in her eyes, or the way a pretty flush of pink got rid of the pallor in her cheeks. As if she’d been a watercolor portrait and was now being repainted in oils.

  Quinn didn’t even look at Rose, his intense stare focusing on Lily as if she was the only thing worth looking at in the entire room. “Sorry,” he said in his gritty, rough voice, sounding in no way apologetic. “No one was at the desk, so I walked straight in.”