Best Man for the Job

Taking her cue, Eryn surged up, flipping the top layer of the cake back and standing tall. For one satisfying moment, Eryn spotted Callan on the other side of the room. The big man stood near the balcony doors, totally fixated on her. At that moment, the suite’s door crashed inward and a group of men wearing ski masks invaded the room. They carried pistols and small machine guns. A masked man grabbed one of the guys at the party and put a pistol to his head. Another masked man fired a burst that punched out glass from the balcony doors.

“Get down on the floor! Do it now and you’ll live!”

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Dear Reader,

The idea for this story came to me in a dream. The mercenary heartthrob looking out for his baby sister is a definite winner for me. An Officer and a Gentleman still gets me. Callan Storm hasn’t had the benefit of that pristine life in the military, though. He’s a behind-the-scenes operator, a member of a Black Ops group, and he doesn’t trust much. I do love those rugged guys who will see a promise through to the end no matter what risks they take.

I wanted to give Callan someone he could trust—eventually. But I didn’t want her to appear totally together and at her best because then the professional side of my school of hard knocks soldier might recognize a kindred spirit. So I stashed security specialist Eryn McAdams inside a cake at a bachelor’s party. And I made her a last-minute change in the lineup. I thought, Callan will never trust anyone like that when something goes wrong. I was right! Join them for the night of their lives when everything changes—at the speed of a bullet.

Happy reading!

Meredith Fletcher

Best Man for the Job

Meredith Fletcher

MEREDITH FLETCHER

lives out west where the skies are big, but still close enough to Los Angeles to slip in for some strategic shopping. She loves old stores with real wooden floors, open-air cafés, comfortable boots, the mountains and old movies like Portrait of Jennie while sipping a cup of hot cocoa on a frosty day. She’s previously written for Silhouette Bombshell and loves action romances with larger-than-life heroes and heroines with pithy repartee. She has pithy repartee herself, but never when she seems to need it most! She’s much more comfortable at the computer writing her books. Please contact her at meredithfletcher@hotmail.com or find her at www.whatmakesmyheartbeatfaster.blogspot.com.

For Montana, a great little mother.

And for Mary-Theresa Hussey,

for all the laughs and guidance.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“You’re not the girl I was expecting.”

Choking down the immediate surge of irritation that raced through her, Eryn McAdams studied the tall man blocking her path into the hotel suite. She’d just come from a day filled with dealing with macho security types treating her like a “girl.” She was only here now as a favor to a friend. It just went to show that no good deed went unpunished. She sheathed a cutting remark and took a breath as she surveyed the guy blocking her way.

At least six foot three or four, he was broad shouldered, narrow waisted and muscular. His physique belonged to an athlete, but the short-cropped blond hair and slate-gray eyes that possessed laser intensity screamed of a military background. The gray suit fit him perfectly and his silk tie was knotted precisely. The soft brown leather shoes held a shine. If he hadn’t come across so blatantly obnoxious, he would have been attractive.

Eryn stood her ground defiantly. “Number one, I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. Number two, I’m the woman you’re getting tonight.”

The man kept his arms folded across his broad chest and didn’t move. “Where’s the other girl? The one we hired?”

Eryn couldn’t believe the guy was being so particular. Renee had told her she’d never had a face-to-face with anyone connected to the bachelor party and had only talked to someone named Toby. “She’s not coming.”

“Why?”

“She’s sick. She called and asked me to cover your party.”

The man’s mouth tightened. “Not my party.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. You don’t seem like the partying type.” Or the marrying kind. But somewhere in the back of Eryn’s mind, that place where she kept foolish thoughts, a bright he’s available light just flashed on. She ignored it. The last thing she needed tonight was man trouble. But ignoring the attractive male in front of her was hard.

The gray eyes narrowed. “Business must be good if you can sass all your customers this way.”

“I’m in a business where I’m not going to take a lot of crap or disrespect. You can’t pay me enough for that.” Eryn hated putting the gig at risk, because Renee was a single mom and needed the money, and she’d said that bachelor parties could pay really well. Only a really good friendship and a godson would get Eryn so close to naked in a roomful of strange men.

“Cal, Cal. What are you doing, dude?” Another man, younger than the guy blocking the door, stumbled over and tried to lay an arm around the big man’s shoulders. The effort was wasted because he wasn’t tall enough and he was amicably drunk. He was dressed casually, jeans and sport jacket.

“Callan. Not Cal.” The big man’s voice remained soft but carried definite authority. He was a man used to being obeyed.

“Okay…Callan.” The newcomer drew back his arm. “But, chill, dude. Don’t hassle the stripper. We’re all here for a good time, and I paid good money for her.”

Eryn counted to three. “I’m not a stripper.” She didn’t want Renee or herself to be disrespected. Entertainment was a job, a profession. The audience had to know its place up front. “I’m here as an exotic entertainer. A dancer.”

Back when she’d first arrived in Las Vegas, she’d worked as a dancer for a while. Her career still suffered from that from time to time as coworkers discovered her past, but that history also allowed her to be good at her current profession. During her dancing days, she had always been very clear about the job description.

“And you paid for the performance, not me.” She was also always very clear about what was paid for.

The drunken man smiled and shrugged. “Sure, sure, honey. No foul. Keep your shirt on. At least for now.” He laughed at his own joke and glanced at the bigger man. The big man’s sober expression never wavered and the man’s good humor disappeared.

Callan didn’t take his gaze from Eryn. He had deep, penetrating eyes. “She’s not the entertainer you hired for this.”

At first, Eryn thought the big man had referred to her as an entertainer as sarcasm, but there was no hint of that in his voice. She locked her gaze with his out of stubbornness and tried not to notice how beautiful his eyes were.

“That right?” The man shoved his hand out to Eryn and smiled. From the automatic way he smiled, Eryn felt certain he was a professional salesman. “I’m Toby. Best man. I’m paying for the party.”

Eryn shifted her attention to Toby and put on a high-wattage smile. She could almost hear Renee whispering in her ear. Always be polite to the guy paying the bill. Renee had taught her that when she’d first gotten into the business. Plus, shifting her attention from tall, dark and obnoxious helped dial down the unexpected interest that had flared up.

“I’m Candy.” She shifted her makeup kit and travel bag to her left hand and took Toby’s hand in her right.

“Yes you are.” Toby winked at her.

“But I’m not the entertainer you hired for the evening. My friend ended up sick a couple of hours ago. She asked me to cover for her.”

“The other girl was blonde, right?”

Eryn ignored the gender terminology this time. The guy paying the bills was allowed certain liberties, and they stopped where she said they stopped. “My friend? Yes.”

Toby leered at Callan. “You ask me, we’re trading up. Daniel has a thing for blondes, which should make your sister happy. But I’ve always been partial to brunettes.” He glanced back at Eryn. “And you’re smoking hot, baby.”

“Thanks.” Eryn tried to sound like she meant it as she took her hand back from Toby. She held up her travel bag and makeup kit. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”

“Sure, sure. Right this way.” Toby waved her inside the hotel suite.

Callan didn’t move.

“C’mon, sarge, let the lady through. We don’t have all night.” Toby looked uncomfortable and not even close to being demanding. “After all, how many bachelor parties are we going to throw your future brother-in-law?”

With obvious reluctance, Callan stepped aside. Eryn slid by him with difficulty. Her shoulder brushed against his chest and discovered he was solid as a brick. Before she could completely ease by, he took her bag and kit from her with ease.

“Hey.” Eryn reached for her things.

“Let me help you. Bedroom’s this way.” Somehow Callan turned his body so she couldn’t get her property back, and in one long stride he was beyond her reach.

Eryn glared at Toby. “What’s with this guy?”

“He’s protective of his sister.” Toby scratched the back of his neck and looked embarrassed.

“Is she here?”

“No, of course not. What kind of bachelor party would that be?” Bemused, Toby shook his head. “Callan’s okay. Just…intense. Protective of his sister, protective of his future brother-in-law, I guess. Jenny, his sister, told me he was a control freak.” He held up his hands. “But look, don’t worry about things. You’re going to come out of this okay. I’m a big tipper. So are the rest of Daniel’s friends. This’ll be fun.”

You better hope so. Eryn wanted nothing more than to get her things back and leave, but Renee was counting on her.

Raising a child alone was expensive. Eryn walked through the expensive suite into the bedroom where Callan had disappeared.

When he reached the bedroom, Callan tossed the travel bag and makeup kit onto the bed. He didn’t like surprises and he didn’t like changes. Ops, even bachelor parties, were supposed to run smoothly. When things didn’t run efficiently, situations got difficult. Or dangerous.

And the woman was definitely a surprise. She was just too competent, unafraid. Normally he liked that in a woman, but tonight she irritated him because he hadn’t known she was coming and she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would come out of a cake in a roomful of horny, inebriated men she didn’t know.

The makeup kit wasn’t locked and he went through it quickly. He’d just picked up the locked travel bag when the woman walked in. She stopped in the doorway and gazed at the open makeup kit.

“I don’t like people going through my things.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

She was beautiful. At least five-ten with long legs, a trim build with generous curves, and a headful of curly dark brown hair. Her eyes were blue-green, as watchful as a cat’s. Her mouth was a little too wide, but it looked fine on her. She wore a simple black dress that allowed her to fit in anywhere in Las Vegas’s night scene.

Callan swallowed with difficulty and tried to drag his gaze from her, finally managing it with difficulty.

She crossed her arms. “The travel bag’s locked.”

“I noticed.”

“Want me to open it for you?”

“Not necessary.” Callan took out a lock pick set he’d already palmed and worked both locks. They popped open in seconds. Then he searched through the bag’s contents. Panties, G-strings and an array of neon-colored sexy underthings filled the bag. Just to be sure, he felt the bag’s lining as well. Lingering perfume and body powder filled his nose and made him think of how little flesh those lacy things covered.

He forced himself to think of the party as a security op. You’re in no man’s land here, soldier. In enemy territory. Don’t drop your guard.

“I keep an inventory of everything in that bag, so don’t think of taking any souvenirs.”

The woman spoke calmly, but Callan knew she was angry. If he’d been in her shoes—stilettos, and expensive from the look of them—he’d have been angry, too. He shut down the trickle of guilt he was feeling. “Alphabetical or color-coded?”

“What?”

“The list. Is it alphabetical or color-coded?” She wasn’t the only one that could be hard-nosed.

“Topographical. Based on how much they cover.”

Despite his caution, the comment caught Callan off guard and made him smile. The brunette was quick. Then he scowled. He’d learned that quick-witted women could get a soldier dead in a heartbeat. He stepped away from the bed. “Okay, you can suit up.” He headed for the door, but this time she blocked him. He looked down at her. “Either I can go and let you change, or I can stay and watch. Doesn’t make any difference to me.” But he was lying. He would have loved to have watched.

“It makes a difference to me.” The woman stepped aside dismissively and entered the room. “You can leave.”

Callan went out and headed for the big room where the party was going to take place. Daniel Steadman, his future brother-in-law, stood in the center of a dozen guys all getting happily plotzed at a wet bar set up in the corner of the big room.

Daniel was a nice guy. From the few times Callan had met him, Daniel was likable enough. But he wasn’t the kind of man Callan generally associated with. All of the men in the room were involved in big business, and that made Callan feel awkward.

He reminded himself that he was doing this for Jenny. His little sister had asked him to keep an eye out for Daniel, in case Toby and his friends got too wild. Jenny wasn’t worried about other women, strippers or entertainers, but she was worried about everyone being in Las Vegas and so far from Dallas. Accidents happened. She’d wanted Callan to shepherd the group.

“Hey, Callan. You want a drink?” Daniel, tall and good-looking, his blond hair carefully cut and styled, waved at the bar.

Callan picked up his Diet Coke from the small table by the balcony doors. “I’m good. Thanks.”

“Why don’t you come over here and join us?”

“I’m gonna catch a breath of fresh air.”

“Okay, bro. I just want you to have fun tonight. I promised Jenny I’d get you to loosen up. I’m kind of big on keeping promises to her.” Callan nodded. Me, too. He opened the balcony door, and went out into the night. He stared out at Las Vegas from the fourth floor. Standing there, he breathed in the stink of the city. Filth and raw sewage he was inured to, but he’d forgotten what smog and privileged pollutions were like. He’d been years from civilized areas, except for the few visits to check on Jenny. He’d come home for her high school graduation, college graduation, a handful of holidays and every now and then when he’d been out of action and recovering from wounds. Or planning a retaliatory move.

He sipped his drink and wondered why he was so on edge. Part of it had to do with Jenny marrying and the fact that he didn’t know Daniel as well as he wanted to. But the biggest part of it was that he felt off his game, out of his terrain.

Despite that, he thought about the beautiful woman getting dressed in one of those sexy outfits he’d discovered in the travel bag. He’d liked the way she’d stood up to him and didn’t back down, and he’d liked how she’d handled things when she’d found him going through her bags. She was cool and calm.

She was also unexpected, and that bothered him most of all. If there was one thing Callan had learned to hate, it was the unexpected.

“Look, I’m really sorry about that. Callan had no reason to treat you like that or go through your stuff.”

“It’s okay.” Eryn made herself say that even though it wasn’t okay. She was used to the wide gulf that separated the whales and major players in Las Vegas from everyone else. Her job at CyberStealth Security put her in that no man’s land every day. High rollers or not, though, she didn’t show up to get treated like garbage.

“He didn’t mean anything by it.” Toby looked uncomfortable.

Eryn looked at him and cocked a challenging eyebrow.

“He’s just a careful guy.”

“You mean, paranoid.” Eryn had recognized it because that was how she played the game when she was on the job.

Toby shrugged. “Maybe. Tell you the truth, the guy creeps me out a little. I mean, I don’t know him. He’s Jenny’s brother, but I haven’t ever seen him until tonight.”

“So what’s his story?” Eryn refolded her underwear and placed them back in the bag.

“Don’t know. He’s some kind of soldier. He’s been in Africa and the Middle East the past few years. I’ve heard he’s a mercenary or something. You ask me, he’s wired too tight.” Toby looked at her. “He won’t be a problem, though. One call to Jenny and she’ll gentle him down.”

“His sister can do that?” Personally, Eryn had her doubts. She would have bet that Callan was the kind of man no one could tame.

“That’s what Daniel says.”

“Ever seen her do it?”

“Nope.”

Eryn nodded. “If he gets out of hand, hotel security is just a phone call away.” She held up her cell. “I’ve got them on speed dial and I won’t hesitate, bachelor party or not.” She wiggled the phone. “Just so we’re clear.”

“It won’t be a problem.” Toby checked his watch. “I should probably let you get dressed.” He hesitated a second, and Eryn knew he was contemplating adding a wisecrack, like or help you get undressed, but decided against it. Lucky him.

“That would be great.”

“The cake’s supposed to arrive in a few minutes.” Toby pointed in the direction of the hallway. “Meet me outside when you’re ready?”

“I will.”

“Cool.” Toby turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Eryn focused on her costumes. Calling the wispy bits of cloth costumes was more dignified than simply thinking of them as underwear. Calling them costumes made her feel more clothed. She wasn’t overly conscientious of her body. Working this kind of job, she couldn’t afford to be conscientious any more than she could afford to take her eyes off a principal, which was what CyberStealth called the clients they protected.

But as she surveyed her inventory, she couldn’t forget about the big man. He’d thrown her with his casual disregard, and she hated that she was reacting to it as if he was a challenge. The problem was, he reminded her way too much of the jerks she had to put up with at CS Sec. She knew that a bachelor party wasn’t going to require much in the way of dressing. The less, the better, in fact. But now she wanted something that would blow Callan’s mind. Or at least his cool.

Looking over the selection, she wished she’d put in more thought about the event. But this had been such a no-brainer she hadn’t thought about it. Reluctantly, she pulled out a white camisole with matching underthings and downy wings, and a scarlet two-piece ensemble with horns that left little to the imagination.

So which would fluster Callan more? Angel or devil? She pulled them up against her body in the full-length mirror on the wall, trying first one, then the other.

Toby was leaning against the wall in the hallway when Eryn found him. He had a beer bottle in one hand and was talking casually to a couple of hotel staff manning a pink and white cake on wheels. All three men stopped talking as Eryn stepped out into the hallway. She kept a satisfied smile from her face with effort. The other bodyguards and investigators at CyberStealth couldn’t generate that effect. Her looks were part of the package that repeat customers asked for, and it irritated the men she worked with.

“Wow.” Toby’s voice was hoarse. “And I do mean, wow.”

“Thank you.” Eryn looked at the cake and saw that it had been outfitted with a selection of real cakes and desserts. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah.” Toby gestured at the cake and the two hotel staff unlatched and opened it. There was plenty of room inside for her.

Eryn stepped forward. “I assume you’re not going to simply unlatch the cake inside the suite. How do I get out?”

“Here.” One of the men showed her how to unlatch the top and fold down a section of the cake. “Makes a step so you can get out without breaking your neck.”

“Even in these heels?” Eryn lifted one of the deep red stilettos she wore.

“Don’t know about heels.”

Personally, Eryn didn’t think the staff guy had even noticed she was wearing shoes. She’d chosen the red outfit, and it worked its magic on Toby and the hotel crew. “I’ll manage.” She stepped up and scrunched down inside the cake and adjusted her horns. “What’s the groom-to-be’s name?”

“Daniel. Daniel Steadman.”

For the first time, the name sank into Eryn’s mind. She’d been focused on tall, dark and distracting. “Daniel Steadman? As in Steadman Pharmaceuticals?”

The company was located in Dallas, which explained Toby’s Texas accent. Steadman Pharmaceuticals had also been in the news lately as one of those companies making money when so many others were losing their shirts. They backed a NASCAR driver that had taken a couple of recent cups.

“Yeah. Just say the word. I’ll introduce you inside, then you can come out of the cake.”

“I’m ready.” Eryn remained crouched inside the cake as she pulled the top down. A moment later, they were in motion, banging briefly against the door. Then she rolled to a stop.

“Hey, people, how about some entertainment?” Toby’s voice boomed out over a PA system in the suite.

Eryn crouched inside the cake and felt her nervousness and reluctance melt away as adrenaline spilled through her body. Years of dance and gymnastics had trained away any performance anxiety she might have had, and she’d been just about as clothed. Martial arts and learning to deal with the whales and high rollers had sharpened her people skills.

“Let me present, the lovely Candy!”

Taking her cue, Eryn surged up, flipping the top layer of the cake back and standing tall. The second layer hit her almost across the knees. She threw her arms up and out as rock music with a heavy bass beat thundered from the suite’s surround-sound system.

For one satisfying moment, Eryn spotted Callan on the other side of the room. The big man stood near the balcony doors, totally fixated on her, drinking in the devil costume with its high-collared vest that did nothing to cover the lacy pushup bra.

Then the cake detonated. Explosions ripped through the suite, accompanied by bright fireworks that spat sparks in all directions. Some of them singed Eryn’s skin and she cried out in pain. Almost deaf, nearly blind and definitely disoriented, she held on to the sides of the cake in order to keep from falling.

At that moment, the suite’s door crashed inward and a group of men wearing dark coveralls and ski masks invaded the room. They carried pistols and small machine guns.

A masked man grabbed one of the guys at the party and put a pistol to his head. Another masked man stepped forward and fired a burst that raked three of the walls and punched out glass from the balcony doors. The sound of the shots barely penetrated the cottony deafness that filled Eryn’s ears.