Hard Justice

Rather than dwell on opportunities lost, he cleared his throat and glanced at Fallon, his lecture mentally prepared.

She was fast asleep. Deep, even breaths lifted her breasts. Her lips were slightly parted, her hands limp at her sides, her head lolling back against the seat.

Justice should have been disgruntled with her.

Instead, he spent the rest of the drive to her house with a stupid smile on his face.

* * *

“WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD.”

From far away, Fallon heard the words. Too tired to care, she snuggled into her seat and sighed.

“Fallon, c’mon, girl. Up and at ’em.”

That gruff voice teased her senses. She pulled the blanket up higher and frowned, trying to refuse.

Rough fingers stroked her cheek, and she heard, “Damn, you are so soft.”

Well, that was nice. In fact, this might be the nicest dream she’d ever had.

A second later, a hard hand shook her shoulder. “Knock off the sappy smile and wake up. Lights are coming on inside and I expect your dad to charge out here any minute.”

Her dad? Fallon lifted her lashes—and found Justice staring into her face. She blinked to bring him into focus.

“Hello,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You with me, Fallon?”

“Oh.” She sat up, felt her head swim and closed her eyes again. “Yes. Sorry.”

She heard his car door open and close again, then hers opened. “Let’s go.” He unhooked her seat belt for her and practically lifted her out.

More drunk than she’d realized, Fallon fell against him, and the security lights flashed on around them.

Justice groaned. “Now we’re in for it.”

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Shielding her eyes from the lights, Fallon straightened away from Justice, but kept a hand on his arm for necessary support. “Dad?”

Wrapped in his housecoat and wearing slippers, her father did indeed charge. The clothes, or lack thereof, and disheveled hair didn’t diminish his stately presence. With haughty disgruntlement, he looked her over, then turned to glare at Justice with concentrated disapproval.

“You should know,” Justice said fast, “I was all kinds of avuncular. But she drank a little too much and—”

Fallon gasped. “You big tattletale! I wasn’t going to tell him I drank!”

With a roll of his eyes, Justice said, “It’s not something you could have hidden from him when you can’t even stand up straight.”

“I can stand.” She attempted to and teetered to the left. Both Justice and her father reached out. She caught her balance, lifted her chin in triumph...and slowly tipped over.

Justice got to her first, holding her steady. “Just hush now and let me explain.”

Feeling very accusatory, Fallon demanded, “Are you going to tell him about the fight, too?”

This time Justice groaned. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Fight?” her father rasped, his face going ashen. He grabbed her shoulders, turned her this way and that to check her over. “Dear God, are you all right?”

“No one was hurt,” Justice rushed to explain. “Fallon’s fine.”

Her father took that in, let out a shaky breath, then drilled them both with his patented stare. “There was a fight?”

“Skirmish,” Justice soothed. “Nothing serious.”

Well, since her father knew anyway... “He was amazing,” Fallon gushed. Justice had impressed her and she was dying to share. “He kicked one guy in the face and put him down.”

“One guy?” More apoplectic by the second, her father barked, “There was more than one?”

Justice squeezed her when she started to explain, then he took over. “Three knuckleheads wanted to take her purse, that’s all. It wasn’t a big deal.”

A flush of anger replaced the pale disbelief. Through clenched teeth, her dad said, “I don’t know where you took her, but you quite obviously used poor judgment.”

When Justice started to speak, Fallon fell into him. “I need to sit down.”

“Let’s take you in, then your father and I can talk.” He put an arm around her and led her forward.

She took one step and tripped over her own feet. The concrete drive rushed up at her face.

Before she made impact, Justice scooped her up into his arms. “Make a note, Fallon. You are not a beer drinker.” He walked past her silently outraged dad.

Her mother, often more reasonable, stood at the door. “Fallon, what in the world have you done?”

“Two beers,” Fallon explained. “I swear.”

“Close to the truth,” Justice said, stepping inside when her mother held the door open. “Add another half a beer to be exact.”

Fallon looked at the long stairs, then at Justice. “I don’t suppose you could carry me on up?” Her legs felt ridiculously wobbly, and besides, she liked being in his arms. He didn’t look the least bit strained.

“No,” her dad snapped. “He most definitely cannot. In fact, you will unhand her this instant.”

“Clayton,” her mother chastised. Then to Justice, “Put her right here.”

He strode across the foyer to the small settee her mother had indicated and carefully lowered her to the seat.

Behind them, her father seethed. “You’re fired. Leave and do not return.”

Going stiff in the neck, Justice said, “She had a terrific time tonight. You know she’s not done, and she’s already familiar with me and—”

“Fired! Now get out.”

“Dad!” No, no, no, Fallon thought. It couldn’t end like this. “You can’t blame him for—”

“If he doesn’t leave this instant, I’ll call the police and have him removed.”

Justice stiffened. “Fine.”

As he turned to go, Fallon panicked. “Justice?”

He paused only a second, sent her a look of frustrated regret, then kept on going...right out of her life.

“Shh,” her mother told her before she could make a single sound of protest. “Pick your battles, honey, and time them well. Now is definitely not the time.”

“But—”

“Come along. I’ll help you upstairs.”

The night had been so nice. How could she go from happy to devastated in a matter of minutes?

“You need to sleep it off,” her mother whispered, “then we’ll talk in the morning, I promise.”

Behind them, her father glared. Never before had she seen him enraged like this. Certainly she’d never seen him enraged at her.

“Clayton will be fine,” her mom assured her. “He’s struggling with his own demons, and like you, he needs a little time. Morning will be soon enough to sort it all out.”

God, she hoped so. Halfway up the stairs, Fallon said, “I had a nice time.”

“I’m glad.”

“Even though no one would dance with me.”

Smiling, her mother said, “Perhaps Mr. Wallington wouldn’t allow it?”

“Maybe,” Fallon said. “He has this crazy death stare, way worse than dad’s, and it terrified everyone. I don’t think Justice knew that I noticed, but I did.”

“Of course you did.”

Thinking about the way Justice had watched her, Fallon admitted, “He was wonderful, Mom.”

“Was he, now?” Supporting her, her mother kept her walking, up and up that never-ending staircase.

Tonight the stairs seemed a particular challenge. Fallon knew she’d never before overimbibed because this out-of-control feeling was entirely new. She couldn’t get her limbs to coordinate, and worse, she felt like bawling.

Once in her room, her mother got out her nightgown and folded down her covers.

Feeling far too clumsy, Fallon finally got her clothes changed and didn’t protest when her mother put them away. More than anything, she wanted to drop into bed. However, old habits died hard, so she first went into her bathroom to halfheartedly brush her teeth and wash her face.

When she stepped out, she found her mother sitting on the side of the bed. Knowing that probably meant a talk, Fallon groaned, but dutifully got into bed.

“How do you feel?”

“Exhausted.” And melancholy and excited and...too many emotions for her to differentiate. The night had been fun, but at times scary. Peaceful and exhilarating. And until she’d blundered, she’d felt so incredibly free.

She should never have given up on life, limited as it might be. Now that she’d had a small taste, she wanted more. God, she craved more. With new conviction, she decided that if she couldn’t have it all, she’d at least take what she could get.

Her mother smiled, then said carefully, “Mr. Wallington is an interesting character.”

He fascinated her. “Yes.” Interesting, funny, strong, an unbelievable fighter, unique and so protective and gentle without smothering her as her parents often did.

After tucking the covers up around her, her mother smiled. “You know, I met with Ms. Silver and went over all the profiles before selecting Mr. Wallington as your guard.”

That was news to Fallon. “You did?” She knew her mother and Ms. Silver had met via their social circles, but she’d assumed her father had made all the arrangements for the protection.

“Yes. Your father was put off by his appearance, but I specifically choose him because, well, I assumed you’d find him unattractive?”

With her mother watching her so closely, Fallon tried not to show any reaction, but inside, she scoffed.

The truth was that she found Justice almost too attractive to bear. But her mother waited for a reply, so Fallon said, “He’s okay.”

“Yes.” Her mother smiled. “Anyway, whether you’d find him handsome or not, I decided his casual manner and dress would make him less obvious as a bodyguard.”

Working up what she hoped would be a convincing smile, Fallon said, “I’m glad you did.” In the end, it didn’t matter how sinfully gorgeous Justice might be: she understood her own limitations.

“I want you to be happy, Fallon.”

Fallon sighed. Her mother had her hair loose, no makeup on her face, and still Fallon thought she looked very pretty. She also looked to be fishing.

“I am happy.”

“Oh, honey.” Her smile went sad. “You know you don’t ever need to lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t.” Yes, she could be happier, but she understood her lot. She had parents who loved her, financial security, a custom-made job that she enjoyed and all the comforts she wanted. “Just because I’m...”

“Expanding your horizons?”

Fallon nodded. That was a good way to put it. “It doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.” She hoped she could clear out the cobwebs sufficiently to reassure her mom.

Teasing, her mother mused aloud, “Now that I’ve met him in person, I’ll admit that Mr. Wallington has a certain rugged appeal.”

Rather than admit anything else inflammatory, Fallon pressed her lips together and shrugged.

“And, my Lord, the man is enormous, all of it brute strength. I imagine any young lady would find him striking on a very basic level.”

Pretty much on any level, but Fallon said only, “Yes, so?”

“So he’s your guard. It’s not only your father he has to answer to, but also his employer. You’re a beautiful woman, Fallon, but understand that Mr. Wallington could be completely discredited if he crossed the line while on the job.”

“Mom.” Heat rushed into her face. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I’m all for you dating again,” her mother continued. “If Marcus doesn’t suit—”

“Marcus most definitely does not.” She’d see Marcus again, of course. They moved in the same social circle. But she’d never again be alone with him—and she’d never again trust him.

“If you want to talk about it—”

“No.” Her mother didn’t know the soul-crushing rejection Marcus had delivered, and Fallon hoped to keep it that way. Her way of dealing? Get out there and live without expectations. “I’m fine. Please don’t worry.”

“I’m a mother. I’m allowed to worry and I imagine I’ll be doing so the rest of my life.” She softened that with a hug. “Now, about Mr. Wallington.”

Fallon would never again delude herself. A strong, confident man like Justice Wallington wouldn’t give a woman like her a second look, except as an assignment.

And as a mere assignment, he’d never know her secrets.

“I have no illusions there.”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying,” her mother corrected. “Mr. Wallington would be lucky to have you, and since he seems like a smart man, he probably realizes it. But Fallon, getting drunk and allowing the man to carry you in will only make it more difficult for him to resist you.”

Fallon almost laughed. Her mother would be forever biased, no matter what. Justice had resisted her easily enough. “I know. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Expression curious, her mother asked, “You think he’ll suit as your protection?”

“Yes. He was really terrific, sticking close like Dad asked, but not once getting too familiar.” Okay, that was stretching the truth just a tiny bit. She’d had guards before; none of them had been as familiar as Justice.

In fact, none of them had been anything at all like him.

Because of the circumstances, she assumed, as well as his manner, Justice was totally unique. He was far more rough-hewn than any other man she knew, and it showed in his speech, his expressions, his big gorgeous body and his naturally protective nature.

Her mother gave her a knowing look. “I would say carrying you in like an old-fashioned knight went a wee bit beyond familiar.”

“That,” Fallon assured her, “was entirely my fault.” She twisted her mouth to the side. “Apparently two beers are far more potent than a single glass of wine.” If she hadn’t been so tipsy, she’d never have let him do that, most especially not in front of her father.

“It’s late,” her mother said with a laugh. “Get some sleep and in the morning you can tell me everything.”

“Okay.” She turned to her side and burrowed into her pillow. Tomorrow she’d work it out with her dad. She had to. She wasn’t ready to let go of her new personal guard so soon. “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

Fallon closed her eyes. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” her mother said, “we know.”

CHAPTER THREE

JUSTICE CALLED LEESE PHELPS on his drive home. He knew he shouldn’t; it was the middle of the night and his buddy would be sleeping, but damn it, he needed to unload. Since Leese was the one who’d gotten him involved with Body Armor, was in fact the one who’d mostly trained him, he seemed the likely person to pester now.

Proving he’d checked the caller ID, Leese answered with, “Everything okay, Justice?”

“Yeah. Sorry for waking you.”

“Cat and I went to bed late after a movie. We’ve only been asleep for a few hours.”

Cat, short for Catalina, was Leese’s new fiancée and a real peach. “Give her my apologies.”

“It’s fine. What’s up?”

“I got fired.”

There was a pause, then Leese asked, “She didn’t like you?”

He honestly didn’t know what Fallon thought or, once she got sober, if she’d mind that he was canned. “Was her dad who cut me loose.” Justice’s thoughts churned, interrupted only by the hiss of the tires over wet pavement. There were few people out this late on such a stormy night. “And maybe,” Justice admitted, “he had good reason.”

As he drove, Justice shared everything that had happened, including the skirmish in the parking lot that he hadn’t reported.

When he finished, he waited for Leese to tell him the various ways he’d fucked up the assignment.

Instead, Leese said, “Sounds like it was out of your control.”

It took Justice a second to soak that in. “You think?”

“Reporting an attempting mugging is routine, but if the client insists otherwise... I’d have done the same as you. Every so often, things go sideways and you just have to roll with it.”

Justice grinned. He knew his friend had gone off script more than a few times where Catalina was concerned. She’d been a pretty damned challenging assignment.

“I have to be at the office tomorrow,” Leese said. “Why don’t you come on in and we’ll talk with Sahara.”

“You think Mr. Wade will ask Sahara to assign someone new?” Justice hated the idea of any other guy being Fallon’s bodyguard, but still he asked Leese, “Maybe you?”

“Nah,” Leese said. “I’m already on detail at the convention center for the outdoor show. Besides, if her dad was that pissed, odds are he’ll not only switch guards, but agencies.”

Justice winced. Sahara wouldn’t be too happy about that. She prided herself on keeping clients happy. “I guess you’re right.” Having the whole agency lose out was even worse. Body Armor offered the best protection around. If Fallon’s dad switched, Fallon would have to settle for second best.

“You should get a new assignment right away,” Leese said. “Meet me tomorrow at nine and we’ll work it out with Sahara. Another job will help you put this one behind you.”

“Yeah, all right.” Justice said his farewells and disconnected the call. Hopefully the new assignment would be something easier, maybe a dignitary dodging death threats. That, Justice thought, he could handle.

Hell, anything would easier than a nearly impossible to resist, far too innocent, curious and sexy girl...who looked at him with awe. So why did he already miss her?

* * *

FALLON WOKE EARLY with a sinking sensation in her stomach.

Not from the alcohol.

Awareness of how badly she’d blundered had her pulling the covers over her head. Good God, she’d gotten smashed and played the fool. When she thought of how carefree she’d been on the dance floor, her face heated.

When she remembered how many times she’d tried to coerce Justice into joining her, each time without success, humiliation made her groan.

He, at least, had behaved with decorum. What must he think of her now? Likely nothing good.

She’d compromised him. Rather than cower, she had to set things right.

The second Fallon left the bed, she realized she’d put her nightgown on backward. Grumbling to herself, she showered and dressed in record time, then entered the breakfast room, anxious to make amends.

Her father was already at the table, his tablet open in front of him as he read the morning news, a cup of hot tea at his elbow. Her mother, dressed in a pretty spring dress and her hair now up, nibbled on toast while typing in email replies for her insanely busy social calendar.

When Fallon cleared her throat, her mother looked up.

Her father did not.

“Fallon? Good morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

Awkward. And anxious. Hopeful to the point of desperation. Fallon said only, “I’m fine, Mom. Thanks.” She helped herself to tea, cautiously watching her father.

“No residual effects?”

“No. Except that I’m hungry.”

Her mom laughed, but her father continued to ignore her.

Fallon let out a sigh. “Dad.”

“Good morning,” he said, his gaze still on the tablet.

“Dad,” she complained as she took a seat beside him.

Frustration visible, he finally looked up. And waited.

Put on the spot, Fallon cleared her throat again. “I’m sorry about last night.”

He nodded, and went back to reading.

“Really?” Fallon narrowed her eyes. “That’s all you have to say?” She waited for his reciprocal apology.

After a deep breath, he pressed a button on the tablet to shut it down and gave her his undivided attention. “There’s no reason to apologize, Fallon, and no reason to discuss it. Your mother and I talked and we both understand that you haven’t had much opportunity to spread your wings. Last night was an aberration, better forgotten.” He smiled. “We’ll put it behind us as a lesson learned.”

Incredulous and insulted, Fallon sucked in a breath. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.” He reached out and patted her hand. “I officially dismissed Mr. Wallington first thing this morning. You don’t need to worry.”

Fury gathered as Fallon stared at her father. “Now I know you’re joking.”

Her mother interjected, “Unfortunately, Fallon, you know your father rarely jokes.”

She flattened her hands on the tabletop. “You already called the agency?”

“And spoke with Ms. Silver herself. She, too, sends her apologies and offered a full refund.”

Fallon shoved back her seat. “Call her back!”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Throwing down his napkin, her father pushed back his chair and he, too, stood.

Her mother quickly circled the table and positioned herself between them. “I know Sahara Silver quite well. Lovely lady. Very shrewd. I’m sure she’ll give the situation time to cool down before actually acting—”

“I told her my decision was final.” Her father’s expression pinched. “I also told her that her man had gotten you drunk to the point that he had to carry you in, and that he’d engaged in violence in your presence.”

Fallon saw red. “The bar was my idea. I picked the place. I chose to drink. And Justice did exactly as you asked—he kept every other person a mile away.” Hoping for a smidge of understanding, Fallon snapped, “I even had to dance alone! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Her father ignored most of what she’d said to focus on one thing. “Justice?” he repeated with a scowl. “Now you’re on a first-name basis with the man?”

“Clayton,” her mother reprimanded. “Of course they’re on a first-name basis. This is a more casual assignment—”

“An assignment the two of you insisted on!” Fallon said, more than ready to fight her own battles. “I didn’t need a bodyguard to be a normal person.”

“Fallon...” Her father reached for her, but she stepped back.

“The fight wasn’t his fault either. He was the perfect protection. I didn’t even see what happened, it was over with so quickly. I only know that no one got near me because he didn’t let them.”

Not budging an inch, her father said, “What’s done is done.”

Giving up, Fallon realized that she wouldn’t be able to reason with him. Whenever challenged, the inimitable Mr. Wade dug in. “Fine,” Fallon said. “You don’t want to hire him, then don’t. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Oh, dear,” her mother whispered. “Fallon, honey, he’s quite expensive.”

“I have more than enough of my own money.” Breathing harder, Fallon said, “I’m twenty-four and it’s time I lived my own life.”

“I forbid it!”

Her eyes flared at her father’s vehemence. “Why? Because then you won’t have control?”

Silence fell around them. After several tense seconds, her father removed his reading glasses and rubbed at his forehead. “I’ve never yelled at you before. Not in anger.”

Fallon saw his remorse. “I’ve never yelled at you either.”

Using that as an opening, her mother said, “This is important to her, Clayton. Surely you see that.”

Once again, the silence stretched out...until Fallon couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dad, I understand how you feel. I really do.” But she’d let that understanding isolate her to the point that her parents thought she needed a bodyguard just to go out. “The thing is, I’m doing this with or without your blessing.” She clasped his hand. “I’d prefer it with.”

Defeated, he nodded, and even managed a dim smile. “And I’d prefer to be the one who hires him.”

Fallon almost groaned. Somehow, some way, she needed to gain her independence. “Dad—”

“I’ll go call the agency now.”

* * *

DISGRUNTLED AFTER A sleepless night filled with regret, Justice slouched in a seat in his boss’s office at the posh Body Armor Agency. He’d only been on the job for four months. First he’d worked part of a case with Leese—a case that ended with Leese getting engaged. Then he’d had a longer stint with a movie star cast in an MMA movie roll. The duties of that job had been twofold: protect the client from rabid fans during the local shoots and teach him how to portray a fighter during the action scenes.

The first part was a piece of cake compared to the second. The dude, talented at acting but not so much at throwing punches, had a hell of a time catching on. He’d been too arrogant to really learn, determined to think he could overcome the physical aspect of the role—the right stance, the proper moves—with added drama. Justice dreaded seeing the movie, since he knew the actor was going to end up looking like a fool.