Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,14
can you take care of one more thing for me?” Priscilla asked her assistant.
Drew went through his checklist for the day, marking off everything he'd managed to do in nine hours time. Priscilla McClaren was nothing if not demanding. “What do you need?”
“You're a hunter, aren't you?” she asked.
“Deer, mostly,” he answered, thrown by a question in no way related to his workday.
“I need you to hunt something else for me.”
He thought through the calendar, coming up with September gamebird season. “Do you need a goose?”
She laughed. A goose indeed. “No, I need you to take care of a Kat.”
“A cat? If you have a stray or feral cat on your property, you need to call the ASPCA, not a hunter, Priscilla.” Did his boss really just ask him to kill a pet? “I only hunt for food, and only during the correct season,” he added for emphasis.
Priscilla poked out her bottom lip. “C'mon, Drew, you don't think I'd really ask you to kill a furry little animal, do you?” She stood then, putting a little extra swing in her step as she walked toward her young assistant. “I need you to take care a problem for me, but it's not an animal.”
He felt the need to run out of the office, but held his ground, hoping she wasn't asking what he was afraid she was asking. “I'm flattered, Ms. McClaren, and you're a beautiful woman, but I've got a girlfriend.”
She stopped inches from touching him. This was not going as she envisioned. Dammit. She'd have to convince someone else to help her, Drew had too much integrity anyway. “I'm sorry, Drew. Please just go home. I'll lock up.”
He left as quickly as possible, not quite running, but coming close to setting a speed-walking world record. She sighed. She'd be willing to bet his resignation would be on her desk in the morning. Dammit. He was a great assistant, too.
She waited until she heard the door slam behind him before throwing everything on her desk at the wall. She had chosen Drew because she knew he could shoot, had been prepared to convince him by any means necessary, but she wasn't a monster. She just needed to fix her problem and bring Mason home. Was that really asking too much?
~*~
Kat had never been more bored in her life. She was stuck inside on what the weather report promised would be a beautiful day made to stay away from windows. A woman could only watch so many cooking shows and repeated primetime dramas. Lordy, she needed to dance. Making the decision, she gathered her shoes and made her way downstairs. The living room had hardwood floors and fewer windows than the kitchen. She cursed Mason's good taste when he built the house. Windows and French doors were beautiful, but they weren't safe when one was trying to avoid being shot.
“Hey, Gorgeous,” Mason greeted as she descended the polished staircase.
She smiled at the love of her life, never slowing from her mission. “I need to dance.” She moved toward the couch, grabbing one side. “Help me move the furniture.”
“Wait. There are three men in the house. You don't need to do that.” Mason replaced her at the end of the leather couch, Alec appearing on the other. She marveled at the bodyguard's ability to disappear into shadow. She hadn't even noticed him in the room when she'd come down the stairs, yet he couldn't have been far from her direct view.
They made quick work of clearing the room, pushing all the furniture to the windowed side, providing as much a barrier as possible. Alec was sure the perimeter was secure, but they were unable to protect against long-range snipers short of holing her up underground. The idea wasn't off the table, but given the intel from Jamieson and Everett regarding Priscilla McClaren, an attempt on Katerina was more likely to be personal than professional.
Kat threw herself into the dance, her nervousness and restlessness coming out in the steps. What had started as a need to move became more and more cathartic as she flew across the floor. Just a few days ago she had almost given up on her studio, on Mason, on life in general. Yesterday had begun behind bars, and today she had two men in the house paid to keep her alive. In her dance, she let it all fall away, let the music move through her. When the final notes played, she was panting with exertion and oblivious