Code Name: Genesis (Jameson Force Security #1)(13)

I take in a few deep breaths, willing myself to accept I’m safe and secure in a Pittsburgh hotel. I’ve got a man who was trained by the Special Forces in the other bedroom of this suite—one who is well armed. Besides, my stalker is most likely still on the West Coast. No matter how good he might be with computers, it’s unlikely he’s tracked me here given the private flight we took and registering under Kynan’s name.

“You’re safe, Joslyn,” I murmur into the darkness right as my belly rumbles.

And hungry, apparently. I’d barely picked at the room service meal I’d ordered and eaten alone. Kynan had dinner down in the hotel restaurant as he had another potential employee to interview, but he assured me I was safe during his absence with an armed guard standing in the hallway outside the suite door. I didn’t bother asking who. I just assumed it was one of his Jameson employees from Vegas or maybe even someone local. Regardless, the cost would be added to my bill, but that was okay.

I can afford to throw unlimited funds at securing my safety, which is exactly what I intend to do. I’ve hired the best, and I’ve got no doubt Kynan will get the situation resolved for me.

My stomach gurgles again, and I roll off the bed. I pad quietly across the thick carpet, then open the door that leads into the main living area. It’s dark with a few rays of moonlight slashing diagonally across the room. My gaze goes to Kynan’s bedroom door, directly across from mine. It’s opened several inches, but it’s too dark to see anything inside. I assume he’s sleeping, but something tells me probably not soundly. On my tiptoes, I make every effort to move in silence toward the refrigerator. I saw some trail mix in there earlier when I’d gotten a bottle of water.

I slide past the couch, around the end table, and make it to the fridge as quiet as a mouse. When I pull it open, it makes a slight hiss. Through the dim light that glows, I make out the glass cannister of trail mix. I barely have my fingers around it when I hear Kynan say from behind me, “Grab me a bottle of water, will you?”

Jumping, I squeak in surprise as my hand goes to my heart. I whip around to see him lying on the couch. Two rays of moonlight cut across his body, illuminating the black gun he has on his chest. He’s fully clothed, even wearing his shoes.

“What are you doing? And why do you have your gun out?” I ask, scanning the darkened room before coming to rest on him.

Sighing, Kynan reaches an arm behind him to the lamp on the side table. The room floods with light, causing me to blink against the brightness. When I’m able to focus again, Kynan is rolling off the couch. He places the gun on the coffee table.

“Decided to sleep out here,” he says to answer my question. Then he just stops and stares, his eyes running boldly down my body and moving up twice as slowly.

I blush from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair when I remember what I’m wearing. I’ve got on a soft cotton camisole and a tiny pair of matching shorts. My nipples are hard as rocks and pushing against the fabric, and the fire in Kynan’s eyes says he appreciates every bit of it.

I cross my arms quickly over my chest and Kynan brings his gaze back to my face. He’s neither embarrassed nor chagrined to have been caught blatantly checking me out, but he also doesn’t seem affected anymore. His tone is bland and uninterested. “Just doing my duty to protect you, Joslyn. If I’d been in that room with the door closed, wouldn’t have done much good if someone had come sneaking in here, now would it?”

“You really think that’s going to happen? Here in Pittsburgh?” I ask.

“Unlikely, but not impossible.” Kynan nods toward the fridge, which is still open. “Hand me a water, would you?”

“Sure,” I mumble, then turn to grab two bottles before closing the door.

When I hand one off to him, he moves to the couch, taking a seat on one edge. He twists the cap off and takes a sip before asking, “Why are you up?”

“Bad dream,” I reply quietly, moving to take a seat on the other end of the couch. I hunch my shoulders inward, hoping to alleviate the pull of my camisole over my breasts, but Kynan’s not paying them any attention anymore. His eyes are locked with mine.

“About your attack?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I admit as I trace my finger down the edge of the water bottle. “The part where he was choking me and I was on the verge of passing out.”

I don’t expect sympathy from Kynan. He doesn’t give it to me, either, but he does offer assurance. “That will never happen again, Joslyn. I promise you. You’re safe.”

I nod, thankful for his words. I trust him, but it still doesn’t remove all the fear. “He said something to me… right before the police pulled into my driveway with the sirens blaring.”

“What’s that?”

“He said I’d been his favorite.” I shudder as I force the words out.

Kynan blinks in surprise. “As if he’d done it before?”

“That’s the way I took it.”

His eyebrows, much darker than the blond hair on his head, rise. “I’m assuming you told the police that.”

“Of course,” I reply, a little incensed he’d think I wouldn’t. “I told them everything. Hell… I’ve been telling them everything. I’ve reported every creepy letter, flower arrangement, and dead squirrel he’s ever left for me.”