His to Defend - Em Petrova Page 0,4
her forehead. “Moreau, I swear you are the most infuriating man. You better walk out of that meeting with Brun with enough money to give me a pay raise.”
He chuckled and gave her a small bow of his head as the elevator doors opened. She followed him to the restaurant and put on her nicest smile for Monsieur Brun as he rose to greet them. Pierre swept in and took over with his apologies.
Assured their discussion could continue without her, she slipped away and returned to her hotel room and work. For long moments she stared at her laptop and the list of people to return calls to. She needed to focus. She enjoyed the work. And while Pierre drove her crazy sometimes, she did enjoy handling his publicity.
When her phone rang, she breezed across the room to the desk set up as her personal office. She took the call from a smaller sponsor who wanted Pierre to sport their brand logo on the side of his car. The request came as a bit last minute, but they wanted a prominent position on the car, highly visible when he went into the turns, and one that would cost the sponsor a pretty penny.
By the time she ended the call, she felt a little warmer toward her client and this business. Not to pat her own back, but she did a good job for Pierre. One way or another, she’d be getting that raise in pay. Then she could pack the money away for a life of leisure in the French countryside.
Chapter Two
“Brother.” Oz Morgon reached out and pulled Lars into his embrace. He thumped a fist on his back, and Lars returned the gesture.
“It feels good to walk through those doors without being accused of anything.” Lars drew back and smiled at his boss. The founder of the organization known as The Guard believed in Lars through the worst of the treason charges he faced months ago.
Oz’s stare drilled into him. “She found you then.”
Lars nodded. “Was it your idea to send such a beauty to give me information?”
A grin hooked the corner of Oz’s mouth. “Believe it or not, Madeline set all that up.”
“Maybe she’s trying to apologize for agreeing with the others in accusing me of being a Russian spy.”
They started walking through the big cathedral that housed their operation. The dim light of a foggy day barely cut through the already dark space. Shadows clung to the walls and might create a scary atmosphere to anybody who didn’t know their organization, The Guard, also known as the Church, stood for light and freedom. Its members worked for the good of the people and saved many. Now the time had come for Lars to protect a famous racecar driver.
As they moved through the large space, Lars focused on questions concerning the task ahead. The Guard would back him up in all ways, providing everything he required to do his job and do it to perfection. They never failed.
Oz stepped up onto the altar and crossed before the scene of Heaven on the back wall. Lars spent many an hour studying that artwork and wondering if a room existed in paradise for men like him who committed acts of violence and even took lives in order to save others.
He glanced at Oz’s arm, and though he could not see the backward roman numeral seven tattooed on his arm, he knew his friend bore it in ink just as they all did on their souls. The angel number of seven turned backward, because these guardian angels did wrong in order to save their wards.
Oz stepped through the door of the private chamber that a priest would use and now provided a conference space for members of the Church.
Oz moved to the side table and picked up a bottle of vodka. “Drink?” he asked Lars.
“Yes, Father.”
A rough laugh emitted from Oz as he poured two glasses of spirits. “I thought our friendship was beyond you teasing me with that term. Now what do you know of your mission?”
“That I’m guarding a driver who will race in 24 Heures du Mans.”
Oz raised his glass in salute. “As always, your French is impeccable. Do you practice?”
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall in a dismissive shrug. “We all know languages here. My ability is no more than others.”
“But your skill at handling a vehicle is.”
Lars sipped his vodka, the burn welcome as they discussed more details about his upcoming mission. “So I