Billionaire Bodyguard
Page 31
On that count, he was a master. Combine that with flawless business instincts, he was unstoppable. “Okay. So we need to create impending doom before we offer salvation from it.”
His eyes sparkled like autumn sunlight. “Exactly.”
“How should we start?”
“We give them a real-life scenario.” He swept a hand through the air like an artist envisioning his completed canvass. “It’s all about targeting what they want most. What every person wants. Security. Knowing he can live his life without worry, without problems or interruptions. These people are used to perfection. They make millions and that guarantees them cushion from life’s typical strife.”
“They expect the best. And they’re willing to pay for it.”
“Right. I’ll ensure their happy lives are eternally preserved.” He peered at her. “But it’s more than that. If I can get my system integrated with the highest-level security networks in the world, I can save more than one family, more than one government. I can impact nations.”
Allison was enraptured by his passion for preserving the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The values he’d fought for, put his life on the line for, as a Special Forces commander. She’d never been more attracted to a man. She felt a personal duty to encourage his momentum. “There are millions less fortunate who’ll benefit.”
“Absolutely.”
“Can you describe how?”
“Once my system is synced with international government intel, we’ll have a technological edge each government couldn’t command on its own. I’m the bridge. That’s why I created this system. There are too many loopholes. Too many bastards seep through the cracks. I’m going to seal those cracks. We’re talking a full-blown referendum on terrorists, drug dealers, sex trade exploiters, sickos who spread child porn, and the rest of the morally inept gene pool. I will track them down. Just give me the chance.” His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Allison hadn’t understood true passion until now. Sexual passion, with him, oh yes. But deep-seated, ferocious desire… “You want to save them all.”
A severe look arrested his features. “Yes.”
“You know that’s not realistic.”
“Yeah, damn it. I know.” Irritation sizzled from him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”
“I’ll write you a great letter of recommendation,” she offered brightly.
Tension ebbed from his features. They shared a smile. “I may take you up on that.”
After the limo ride, she couldn’t imagine a greater luxury. Logan lived by a totally different set of expectations. She hesitated in front of the steps up to a sleek private jet. Without conscious thought, her hand went to the tiny swell of her abdomen.
“It’s safe,” Logan stated. “Private jets fly at a slightly lower altitude, faster and more precise than a typical aircraft carrier. The baby will be fine.”
“Oh. Okay.” The glimmer of instinct that had hit her made her blink. Followed by a blossoming sense of hope.
In that moment her world opened up to the possibility she might have the elusive maternal instinct she’d feared she lacked like her own mother. Maybe it skipped a generation.
Floating in a bubble of awe, she ascended the steps into the plane. The interior smelled new, like lemon oil and furniture polish. Real wood paneling added a sheen of graceful elegance.
“Do you always fly private?” she wondered.
“Depends. In the states, yes. For international travel, I go the traditional route.”
There was nothing “traditional” about the way Logan lived or traveled. She decided to focus on the presentation. And the exciting possibility that she might actually possess the ability to bring a baby into the world and take care of it properly. The responsibility was still overwhelming to grasp. Could her saving grace be that she knew how not to raise a child?
That didn’t exactly sound promising. Her shoulders slumped.
She took her seat on the right side of the plane, second row. Logan settled across the aisle from her. Despite the narrow space, he seemed far away. She’d sort of hoped he’d sit beside her. Something about his nearness eased her nerves, made intimidating situations more bearable.
From his laptop bag, he withdrew a daunting sheaf of papers and flipped through the stack. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A steaming pile of…boring.”
Gripping her armrests, she needed to concentrate on something other than the speed of the jet and the bump of liftoff. “Like what?”
“Legal red tape. International codes of conduct. Information I’ve been researching for years. I need to have it down when I give my spiel, so I can talk their language.”
“You read that cover to cover?”
“Memorized it.”
“The entire thing?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged. “A refresher never hurts.”
For the next hour he scanned the pages as fast as a world-class speed reader. He appeared to absorb information lightning quick. No surprise. Before accepting his offer, she’d done her own research on him. Besides his dual bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering and U.S. history, his community of peers regarded him with a mix of jealousy, amazement and respect. Some called him lucky, others said genius. Beyond his degree, he must’ve honed his engineering skills in the military to have created the Elite System.
She, on the other hand, had acquired only an associate’s degree—liberal arts, with a concentration in graphic design—but for how long it took and what she’d gone through to acquire it, she treasured it like a Ph.D. She grimaced, recalling how she’d pursued her education in secret. She’d attempted to do it openly, until Trevor went on a tirade about how no wife of his needed college. He’d educate her on what he wanted her to know.
An unacceptable answer, so she’d taken classes sporadically. Some online when available, a full load when he was out of the country on assignment. She’d also taken a job on the military base as a facilitator instructing new recruits on social aspects of military life, which Trevor grudgingly permitted. If he’d known she could translate that into a well-paying career as a corporate trainer, he never would’ve allowed it. She’d used those part-time funds to pay for courses in cash and rented a mailbox at the community college so no paper trail led to her. When she finally completed her degree, the sense of accomplishment was indescribable.
His eyes sparkled like autumn sunlight. “Exactly.”
“How should we start?”
“We give them a real-life scenario.” He swept a hand through the air like an artist envisioning his completed canvass. “It’s all about targeting what they want most. What every person wants. Security. Knowing he can live his life without worry, without problems or interruptions. These people are used to perfection. They make millions and that guarantees them cushion from life’s typical strife.”
“They expect the best. And they’re willing to pay for it.”
“Right. I’ll ensure their happy lives are eternally preserved.” He peered at her. “But it’s more than that. If I can get my system integrated with the highest-level security networks in the world, I can save more than one family, more than one government. I can impact nations.”
Allison was enraptured by his passion for preserving the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The values he’d fought for, put his life on the line for, as a Special Forces commander. She’d never been more attracted to a man. She felt a personal duty to encourage his momentum. “There are millions less fortunate who’ll benefit.”
“Absolutely.”
“Can you describe how?”
“Once my system is synced with international government intel, we’ll have a technological edge each government couldn’t command on its own. I’m the bridge. That’s why I created this system. There are too many loopholes. Too many bastards seep through the cracks. I’m going to seal those cracks. We’re talking a full-blown referendum on terrorists, drug dealers, sex trade exploiters, sickos who spread child porn, and the rest of the morally inept gene pool. I will track them down. Just give me the chance.” His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Allison hadn’t understood true passion until now. Sexual passion, with him, oh yes. But deep-seated, ferocious desire… “You want to save them all.”
A severe look arrested his features. “Yes.”
“You know that’s not realistic.”
“Yeah, damn it. I know.” Irritation sizzled from him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”
“I’ll write you a great letter of recommendation,” she offered brightly.
Tension ebbed from his features. They shared a smile. “I may take you up on that.”
After the limo ride, she couldn’t imagine a greater luxury. Logan lived by a totally different set of expectations. She hesitated in front of the steps up to a sleek private jet. Without conscious thought, her hand went to the tiny swell of her abdomen.
“It’s safe,” Logan stated. “Private jets fly at a slightly lower altitude, faster and more precise than a typical aircraft carrier. The baby will be fine.”
“Oh. Okay.” The glimmer of instinct that had hit her made her blink. Followed by a blossoming sense of hope.
In that moment her world opened up to the possibility she might have the elusive maternal instinct she’d feared she lacked like her own mother. Maybe it skipped a generation.
Floating in a bubble of awe, she ascended the steps into the plane. The interior smelled new, like lemon oil and furniture polish. Real wood paneling added a sheen of graceful elegance.
“Do you always fly private?” she wondered.
“Depends. In the states, yes. For international travel, I go the traditional route.”
There was nothing “traditional” about the way Logan lived or traveled. She decided to focus on the presentation. And the exciting possibility that she might actually possess the ability to bring a baby into the world and take care of it properly. The responsibility was still overwhelming to grasp. Could her saving grace be that she knew how not to raise a child?
That didn’t exactly sound promising. Her shoulders slumped.
She took her seat on the right side of the plane, second row. Logan settled across the aisle from her. Despite the narrow space, he seemed far away. She’d sort of hoped he’d sit beside her. Something about his nearness eased her nerves, made intimidating situations more bearable.
From his laptop bag, he withdrew a daunting sheaf of papers and flipped through the stack. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A steaming pile of…boring.”
Gripping her armrests, she needed to concentrate on something other than the speed of the jet and the bump of liftoff. “Like what?”
“Legal red tape. International codes of conduct. Information I’ve been researching for years. I need to have it down when I give my spiel, so I can talk their language.”
“You read that cover to cover?”
“Memorized it.”
“The entire thing?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged. “A refresher never hurts.”
For the next hour he scanned the pages as fast as a world-class speed reader. He appeared to absorb information lightning quick. No surprise. Before accepting his offer, she’d done her own research on him. Besides his dual bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering and U.S. history, his community of peers regarded him with a mix of jealousy, amazement and respect. Some called him lucky, others said genius. Beyond his degree, he must’ve honed his engineering skills in the military to have created the Elite System.
She, on the other hand, had acquired only an associate’s degree—liberal arts, with a concentration in graphic design—but for how long it took and what she’d gone through to acquire it, she treasured it like a Ph.D. She grimaced, recalling how she’d pursued her education in secret. She’d attempted to do it openly, until Trevor went on a tirade about how no wife of his needed college. He’d educate her on what he wanted her to know.
An unacceptable answer, so she’d taken classes sporadically. Some online when available, a full load when he was out of the country on assignment. She’d also taken a job on the military base as a facilitator instructing new recruits on social aspects of military life, which Trevor grudgingly permitted. If he’d known she could translate that into a well-paying career as a corporate trainer, he never would’ve allowed it. She’d used those part-time funds to pay for courses in cash and rented a mailbox at the community college so no paper trail led to her. When she finally completed her degree, the sense of accomplishment was indescribable.
