The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(15)

San Francisco, California

Clayton White, still slightly out of breath, ran his hand through Veronica’s hair, relishing the silken sensation against his palm. Not for the first time, he realized he just couldn’t get enough of her. Veronica Hammond made him smile. She made him happy. She made him whole. And by the way she looked at him when they made love, he bet she felt the same way he did. He’d know soon enough if it was indeed the case.

“We’re playing with fire,” Veronica said, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

White searched for her face, but it was buried in his side, her lashes tingling his rib cage. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Your career. Aren’t you worried about it? At least a little?”

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t a tiny bit concerned about the situation. He loved his job. But if forced to make a choice between the Secret Service and Veronica, the decision would be easy. Men with skill sets like his were in high demand. Finding another position with a federal law enforcement agency wouldn’t be much of a challenge, and even if that failed, he had a feeling that the private sector would welcome him with open arms.

“What about you?” White asked. “Where do you see this going?”

“In the shower,” she said, laughing. “Care to join me?”

“I’m serious,” White insisted.

“So am I,” Veronica replied, rolling out of bed. “Your loss.”

White sighed as he watched her walk naked to the bathroom. She glanced back at him, her green eyes sparkling, daring him to make the next move. It took all his willpower not to follow her into the shower. Instead of doing the easy thing and joining Veronica, White arched his spine and stretched his arm toward the bedside table where he had left his cell phone. There was no voicemail.

White had an important decision to make. He checked his phone again. Thirty minutes left before Veronica had to go down to the awards ceremony.

Plenty of time, he thought. He eased out of bed, grabbed one of the plush hotel bathrobes, and wrapped it around himself. He quietly opened the connecting doors linking his suite to hers and slipped into his identical hotel room. He headed toward the closet where, tucked away at the bottom, the room’s safe was hidden. He turned on a table lamp near the closet and entered his six-digit code into the keypad.

There followed the whirl of the locking mechanism, and the safe opened. There were only three items inside: an ankle holster, a snub-nose revolver, and a small blue satin box.



Veronica turned off the shower and grabbed one of the white fluffy towels from the nearby heating rack. She really thought Clay would have joined her in the shower. Maybe they could reconnect after the awards banquet? The possibility made her smile. She dried herself quickly and then wrapped the towel around her head turban-style. Her skin tingled as her mind played back the last hour. Their friendship had turned into a secret love affair. That wasn’t something she had seen coming, or necessarily wanted. Or needed. But damn if it didn’t feel good.

Her brain, though, didn’t necessarily agree with her heart. She had her career. He had his. But here they were, both taking risks as if they were love-starved fools. Admittedly, he had much more to lose than she did. If word of their relationship got out, he would not only be in trouble; it would also give a black eye to the entire Secret Service. And it wouldn’t reflect well on her dad either. So why risk it all?

Deep down she knew. She bit her lip. He loves me.

She used a hand towel to wipe the foggy mirror, but it left too many streaks and smudges to be helpful. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

As good as this is, as fun as it feels, this thing, this relationship . . . it can’t continue like this, she thought, shaking her head. And he knows it too. He has to. She had important work to do. The revamped Drain app was almost ready. They were days away from the beta release, and she just couldn’t wait to get back out there and follow the tips, wherever they might lead.

Of course, there would be quirks to fix and adjustments to make, but she was confident the app would be a success—despite her dad’s constant obstruction. For a man who had always been so supportive of her, his tenacious bitching about how Drain was a waste of her talents was getting irritating. She was frustrated at the amount of energy her father seemed to spend on finding reasons why she shouldn’t launch the new version. As the vice president-elect of the United States, didn’t he have more vital issues to deal with?

She had fantasized about excavating previously undiscovered sites since she was a little girl and saw a documentary about the Nazca Lines in Peru and how some thought they’d been drawn by aliens. She’d quickly found that the evidence disproved that theory, but she’d been left with an enduring fascination with humankind’s efforts to alter the very face of the earth. It was her realization of how much the numerous satellites that constantly orbited the planet could reveal about the past, coupled with her memory of how fascinated the public was by archaeological mysteries, that led her to conceptualize Drain.

There was no way she was going to let her father ruin her dream. His claim that it was too dangerous for her to travel through parts of the world less friendly to Americans didn’t hold water. Weren’t the Secret Service agents the best in the world anyway?

One way or the other, the next two years were going to be busy. She guessed that was why every moment she spent with Clay was so precious. Truth was, she couldn’t picture herself without him. Was this love?