LITMIR.BIZ

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father rarely jokes.”

      She flattened her hands on the tabletop. “You already called the agency?”

      “And spoke with Ms. Silver herself. She, too, sends her apologies and offered a full refund.”

      Fallon shoved back her seat. “Call her back!”

      “I’ll do no such thing.” Throwing down his napkin, her father pushed back his chair and he, too, stood.

      Her mother quickly circled the table and positioned herself between them. “I know Sahara Silver quite well. Lovely lady. Very shrewd. I’m sure she’ll give the situation time to cool down before actually acting—”

      “I told her my decision was final.” Her father’s expression pinched. “I also told her that her man had gotten you drunk to the point that he had to carry you in, and that he’d engaged in violence in your presence.”

      Fallon saw red. “The bar was my idea. I picked the place. I chose to drink. And Justice did exactly as you asked—he kept every other person a mile away.” Hoping for a smidge of understanding, Fallon snapped, “I even had to dance alone! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

      Her father ignored most of what she’d said to focus on one thing. “Justice?” he repeated with a scowl. “Now you’re on a first-name basis with the man?”

      “Clayton,” her mother reprimanded. “Of course they’re on a first-name basis. This is a more casual assignment—”

      “An assignment the two of you insisted on!” Fallon said, more than ready to fight her own battles. “I didn’t need a bodyguard to be a normal person.”

      “Fallon...” Her father reached for her, but she stepped back.

      “The fight wasn’t his fault either. He was the perfect protection. I didn’t even see what happened, it was over with so quickly. I only know that no one got near me because he didn’t let them.”

      Not budging an inch, her father said, “What’s done is done.”

      Giving up, Fallon realized that she wouldn’t be able to reason with him. Whenever challenged, the inimitable Mr. Wade dug in. “Fine,” Fallon said. “You don’t want to hire him, then don’t. I’ll take care of it myself.”

      “Oh, dear,” her mother whispered. “Fallon, honey, he’s quite expensive.”

      “I have more than enough of my own money.” Breathing harder, Fallon said, “I’m twenty-four and it’s time I lived my own life.”

      “I forbid it!”

      Her eyes flared at her father’s vehemence. “Why? Because then you won’t have control?”

      Silence fell around them. After several tense seconds, her father removed his reading glasses and rubbed at his forehead. “I’ve never yelled at you before. Not in anger.”

      Fallon saw his remorse. “I’ve never yelled at you either.”

      Using that as an opening, her mother said, “This is important to her, Clayton. Surely you see that.”

      Once again, the silence stretched out...until Fallon couldn’t take it anymore.

      “Dad, I understand how you feel. I really do.” But she’d let that understanding isolate her to the point that her parents thought she needed a bodyguard just to go out. “The thing is, I’m doing this with or without your blessing.” She clasped his hand. “I’d prefer it with.”

      Defeated, he nodded, and even managed a dim smile. “And I’d prefer to be the one who hires him.”

      Fallon almost groaned. Somehow, some way, she needed to gain her independence. “Dad—”

      “I’ll go call the agency now.”

      * * *

      DISGRUNTLED AFTER A sleepless night filled with regret, Justice slouched in a seat in his boss’s office at the posh Body Armor Agency. He’d only been on the job for four months. First he’d worked part of a case with Leese—a case that ended with Leese getting engaged. Then he’d had a longer stint with a movie star cast in an MMA movie roll. The duties of that job had been twofold: protect the client from rabid fans during the local shoots and teach him how to portray a fighter during the action scenes.

      The first part was a piece of cake compared to the second. The dude, talented at acting but not so much at throwing punches, had a hell of a time catching on. He’d been too arrogant to really learn, determined to think he could overcome the physical aspect of the role—the right stance, the proper moves—with added drama. Justice dreaded seeing the movie, since he knew the actor was going to end up looking like a fool.

      Or maybe, he hoped, selective editing and a more athletic stand-in could make it all work. The upside of that job had been the groupies who, when shot down by the star, were more than happy to spend time with a bodyguard. He grinned, remembering how in awe they’d been of his résumé. Not many fighters turned to protection, but for him, so far, it fit.

      That is, until Fallon Wade.

      His boss’s number-one man, Enoch, delivered a tray of much needed coffee and Sahara’s favorite pastries.

      Less tired and therefore more upright, Leese sat across from Justice. Apparently the late-night call hadn’t kept him up. Since getting engaged, Leese looked satisfied more often than not.

      Leese accepted coffee but, forever the fitness buff, passed on the sweets. Leese might have left the fight world, but he’d yet to abandon the training.

      Sahara Silver, best boss ever, propped her very shapely rear on the edge of her massive desk and, looking orgasmic, bit into a jelly-filled doughnut. She’d dressed as classy as ever in a silky blouse, skinny skirt and crazy-high heels.

      He liked Sahara a lot and respected her even more. She was a shark in business, a high-maintenance woman and a loyal friend. After licking her lips and washing down the sugar with a big drink of her coffee, Sahara turned to him, grinned and said, “Buck up, buttercup.”

      “I got fired,” Justice grouched back. “Don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

      “True, you did.” She swung one foot. “But I’m guessing someone had a fit, because just as I was headed in to this little meeting, Mr. Wade called to say he’d had a change of heart. You are to report to their home at six this evening.”

      Very slowly, Justice straightened. “You’re shi—” he quickly censored himself and corrected “—kidding me?”

      Sahara feigned an absurd look of innocence. “Would I do that?”

      “You think the daughter forced it?” Leese asked.

      “Why else? When Mr. Wade called—at the crack of dawn, by the way—he was most adamant that Justice was through. I do believe he wanted me to hang him by his toenails...or some other more vulnerable body part.” She bobbed her eyebrows while giving a pointed look at his crotch. “The man was entirely enraged and I only soothed him by telling him I’d give Justice a strict reprimand.”

      Justice scowled.

      “Consider yourself severely reprimanded, by the way.” Sahara made him wait while she took another bite of her doughnut. “Funny thing, though, when Mr. Wade called back, he was subdued to the point of being sullen. He snarled that he’d reconsidered and the contract should stand.”

      Justice didn’t know what to think. Had Fallon had a hissy? That’d fit the princess role, but she hadn’t seemed like the hissy type to him.

      Still, it wasn’t like he knew her well. Shortly after meeting, she’d gotten drunk and people could be very different then.

      “None of this makes sense,” Justice said. “I’m not even sure why she needs protection.”

      While sipping coffee, Sahara shrugged. “Her father

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