Against the Sun

His blue eyes ran over her, but the heat was no longer there. Still, just looking at all that masculinity packaged so nicely made her skin feel warm. She told herself whatever minor attraction she felt to Jake Cantrell was unimportant. And that all of this would be over in just a few days.

Walking away from him, she sat down behind her desk. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Two

The lady was hot, no doubt about it. Jake knew a lot of pretty women, but Sage Dumont had something besides a beautiful face and what appeared to be a spectacular body. No, she wasn’t just pretty. She had a certain presence, a kind of aura about her. In the marines, the guys used to say a woman had It. That inexplicable quality that drew a man when his brain told him to run like hell the opposite way.

Fortunately, Sage was a Dumont, and to Jake that screamed high society, rich and spoiled. The lady might be great for a night or two in bed, but beyond that, he hadn’t the slightest interest.

One thing he knew. She might be engaged, but she wasn’t in love. A woman didn’t look at a man the way she looked at him when she was in love with someone else.

He couldn’t help pitying the unlucky bastard she was going to marry. Jake was just damned glad it wasn’t him.

Settling in one of the two cream leather chairs across from where she sat behind a sleek, black-granite topped desk, he unfolded several printed sheets of instruction.

“Let’s start with some general background,” he said. “I’ll make it short and to the point. If you know this already, stop me.” He glanced at her, saw he had her full attention. “Saudi Arabia is a monarchy bordered by Jordan, Iraq, Kuwait, the Persian Gulf and Qatar.”

“I know where it is.”

“But you’ve never been there.”

“No.”

“Then maybe you don’t know that if you aren’t Muslim, you can’t go to Saudi Arabia without an invitation, nor can you leave without permission.” He checked to see if she was getting bored. “To give you some idea of the kind of people you’ll be dealing with, visitors to Saudi Arabia have to abide by sharia law. You can be imprisoned for possessing alcohol, pornography, drugs or even pork. Thieves still have their hands cut off, and capital crimes are punished by public beheadings.”

Her face went a little pale.

“It’s a different culture,” he went on. “They don’t think the way we do. That’s the first thing you need to know.”

She took a slow breath and started nodding. “All right. What else?”

“Knowing their names isn’t enough. You’ll need to find out how they want you to address them. If they’re members of the royal family—and there are six thousand of those—you’ll address a male as Your Highness. Unless he’s in line for the throne, in which case you would say Your Royal Highness.”

“I’ll get whatever information we need.”

“Saudi men don’t usually shake hands with women. Let them make the first move.”

“All right.”

“Do you own a skirt that comes below your knees?”

Her lips faintly curved. “Not this season.”

“Then buy some. And be sure your arms and shoulders are covered. What you have on is fine, but the skirt needs to be longer.”

“These people are coming to my country—I’m not going to theirs. I don’t see why I should change to please them.”

“How bad do you want to make this deal?”

It meant everything. If she closed this purchase, she could prove to her grandfather that she was the person to take over as president of the company when Michael Curtis resigned next year.

“I’ll take care of it,” she said.

“I need the details of their visit. How long they’ll be staying. Which hotel they’ll be in, what security measures are being taken.”

“We’ve booked them into the presidential suite at the Four Seasons. They’ll have the entire twentieth floor. It’s a five-star hotel and it’s close to the office. I was planning to leave security up to their own people.”

“Bad idea. They don’t know the city or the hotel. I can take a look if you want, see what might need to be done.”

“All right, yes. That sounds like a good idea.”

“And you’ll need to inform the local authorities of the visit.”

“Already done. Everything’s covered.”

They spent the better part of another hour going over the protocols, things like not waving someone forward with your fingers, which an Arab might do to summon a dog. Or making the okay sign, forming a circle with your thumb and forefinger, which meant you were giving the person the evil eye.

Sage was exhausted by the time Cantrell unfolded his tall frame from the chair. Damn, the man was big. He had feet the size of snowshoes and big hands, as well.

She didn’t let her mind wander in the direction that led her.

Instead, she thought that for a bodyguard he seemed fairly polished and intelligent. His clothes were perfectly tailored to fit his tall, broad-shouldered frame. His suit wasn’t a two-thousand-dollar Armani, but it hadn’t come off the rack at J. C. Penney’s, either.

He glanced down at the heavy watch on his wrist. “Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested. “You haven’t had lunch. We can meet back here in an hour, get started again.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I thought we were finished.”

Cantrell’s mouth edged up, a hard mouth, but sexy. “I hate to disappoint you, but we’re just getting started.”

Sage looked at the stack of notes on her desk, thought of the endless preparations she still needed to complete to get ready for the Saudis. “I’ve got appointments all afternoon. I won’t be finished until at least seven o’clock tonight.”

“All right, I’ll pick you up here at seven. We’ll catch some dinner and continue where we left off.”

She gazed up at him and inwardly groaned. She was exhausted from working the long hours necessary to prepare for the negotiation. Now she had to deal with Jake Cantrell.

To say nothing of the tug of attraction she felt whenever she looked at him. Or worse yet, when she felt him looking at her.

She wouldn’t act on any of it, of course. She was committed to Phillip. Which reminded her to call and tell him she wouldn’t be able to see him tonight. They would have only tomorrow evening to say goodbye before he returned to Edinburgh, where his North Sea drilling operations office was located.

Reluctantly, she returned her attention to Cantrell. “I’ll be ready when you get here,” she said. And wished she’d be going home to get some sleep instead.

* * *

Jake left the office and climbed into his Jeep. He’d bought it two months ago, a replacement for Sassy, the old, beat-up one that had served him so well over the years. The new Jeep was also black, but shiny, and had a canvas top without holes. He’d had it up all summer so he could run the air conditioner, which actually worked.

He cranked the engine, thinking of the evening ahead. What the hell had he been thinking? Yes, he needed to work with Sage as much as he could before the Saudis arrived. He sure as hell didn’t need to take the woman to dinner.

Yet there was something about Sage Dumont that interested him. He tried to think of her as the spoiled rich socialite she undoubtedly was, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit.

He reminded himself that she was engaged, and that cooled his ardor a little. Not enough.

He wondered what kind of man she had chosen to marry, and how she really felt about him, then reminded himself it was none of his damned business. Disgruntled that he had taken the assignment at all, he left downtown Houston and drove to his office in the University District, where he did freelance work for Atlas Security.

Jake shoved open the office door and walked in, passing Annie Mayberry, Trace’s receptionist and office manager, who was seated at the front desk. A small woman in her sixties with frizzy blond hair, Annie ran the place like a dictator. She also mothered the single men who worked there, and though they grumbled about her overprotective nature and salty disposition, everybody loved her.

“So how did it go?” she asked. “You take the job?”

“I’ll probably regret it, but yes, I did.”

One of her penciled eyebrows went up. “She’s a real beauty, that Sage.”

Jake’s steps slowed. He stopped and turned. “You knew Sage was the assignment? Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

Annie just smiled. “’Cause I was afraid you’d say no. You know how you can be when it comes to women.”

Jake frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you think a woman has only one job, and that’s to keep you entertained in bed. You aren’t interested in a female who might stand up to you. Sage Dumont is just as used to being in charge as you are. That has to chap your behind but good.”

Amusement warred with irritation. “She’s used to being in charge, all right. She works for her grandfather. Of course she’s in charge.”

“You might want to do a little checking on that. Sage started at the bottom. She’s good at what she does, and that’s why she’s been promoted so many times over the years.”

“How the hell could you possibly know that?”

“Because, smarty-pants, I read the newspapers. They’ve done a lot of stories about her and her family. Plus I did a little checking on the internet when Trace mentioned he was recommending you for the job.”

“All right, so let’s say she worked her fingers to the bone to get where she is today. Doesn’t change the fact that as long as I’m protecting her, she has do what I say.”

“You told her that? How’d that work out?”

“We talked things over and she agreed to follow my rules.”

Annie snorted as if he was deluding himself. “She’s engaged, you know.”

He scoffed. “That’s pretty hard to miss, with the size of the diamond she’s wearing.”

“Phillip’s not the right man for her.”

Jake couldn’t believe this conversation. And yet this was Annie. She had an uncanny ability to know everything that was going on, and she was usually right. “Really. And why is that?”

“Too soft. The guy was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. He’s never done a hard day’s work in his life. You ask me, Phillip Stanton’s a social climber. He wants to be part of the Dumont royalty. Sage is his ticket in.”

Jake mulled that over, wondering if it might be true. “So why is she marrying him?”

Annie’s mouth puckered. “I haven’t quite figured that out. If I do, I’ll let you know.”

“You do that.” With a shake of his head, Jake headed for his desk. Trace wasn’t in today, but Sol Greenway, Trace’s computer whiz kid, was pounding away on his keyboard at the desk in his glass-enclosed office.

Trace employed two other freelancers in the office. Ben Slocum, an ex-Navy SEAL, was off investigating a case, but Alex Justice, also a P.I., was working at the desk next to Jake’s.

“Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” Alex asked. He was a former navy pilot, a jet jockey who was a lot tougher than his blond-haired, blue-eyed appearance made him seem. “Heard you were taking a protection job for Sage Dumont. She is one hot lady.”

Jake grunted. “Why the hell is it everybody in the place knew S. E. Dumont was a woman but me?”

Alex grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Try watching TV sometime.” The guy was a real lady killer. Jake wondered if Sage would rather be working with Justice than with him.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said. But he wasn’t the TV type. He’d far rather be outdoors.

He sat down in front of a stack of messages, calls that needed to be returned, and went to work. All the while, Sage Dumont hovered at the edge of his mind. Maybe it was time he found out some of the things about her everyone else already seemed to know.

Three

Sage had her personal assistant, Will Bailey, reschedule her afternoon appointments. She was buried in work, but the most important thing she had facing her right now was the upcoming deal with the Saudis. Today, Jake Cantrell had caught her unprepared, and that wasn’t going to happen again. She skipped lunch and had Will bring her a ham sandwich off the meal cart that circled the floors every day.

For most of the afternoon, she sat in front of her computer, poring over Middle East business protocols and reading every article she could find on the customs of Saudi Arabia. The more she read, the more she discovered she didn’t know. And the more disturbing she found the information.

She had always been independent. It was hard to imagine living under the oppressive restrictions a Saudi woman was forced to bear.

Sage reminded herself that these people were from another country, another part of the world, and she had to respect their values and lifestyle. They were here as Dumont family guests and she would treat them accordingly.

She finished reading one last article on the screen, feeling even more exhausted than she had before. She had half an hour before Cantrell was due to pick her up. Allowing herself a brief respite to recover a little of her energy, she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

“Napping, Ms. Dumont?”

She shot upright in her chair, nearly launching herself across the desk. She blinked, her gritty eyes focusing on the imposing man standing in front of her.

“I was working. I—I must have nodded off.” Why was it he always caught her off guard? Damn the man for his timing, among other things.

“Maybe eating something will help.”

“I had a sandwich earlier off the cart,” she said a little defensively.

Cantrell looked at her as if sizing her up. “That’s not much. You ready to go?” He wasn’t wearing the suit he’d had on earlier, but a pair of faded jeans that hugged his long, powerful legs, and a dark blue T-shirt. The T-shirt stretched over a chest that was ridiculously wide and banded with muscle. She had to tear her gaze away.

“I need to make a quick trip to the washroom,” she said, “then we can leave.” There was a private bathroom in the office, one of the privileges of being a VP. Grabbing her purse, she darted inside, made a toilet stop, brushed her teeth, applied a little fresh lipstick. She straightened her ivory suit jacket as she walked back out the door.

Cantrell was waiting, taking up far more of her spacious office than most men did. She felt those blue eyes on her, assessing her in some way, and a little curl of heat settled low in her belly. She wondered what those perceptive eyes saw when he looked at her.

He followed her to the door, but it opened before she reached it, and her fiancé walked in. Immaculately dressed in an Italian designer suit, six feet tall and lean, with blond hair, hazel eyes and darkly tanned skin, Phillip looked as if he had just stepped off a Ralph Lauren billboard.

His gaze went to Cantrell, then returned to Sage. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, Phillip. Didn’t you get my message?” She sighed. “Ian hired Mr. Cantrell to help me learn the protocols before the Saudis arrive. We have to work on that tonight.”

“I see.”

“Phillip Stanton, this is Jake Cantrell.”

Phillip extended his hand. Jake shook it and stepped away, clasped his hands in front of him and splayed his legs, going into bodyguard mode. Phillip eyed him sharply. Sage caught a hint of disdain. Clearly, Phillip wasn’t happy that she would be working with Jake.

“Ian mentioned you,” he finally said to Cantrell. “He told me you would be providing protection for Sage while the sheik and his family are here.”

“That’s right.”

“Ian can be ridiculously protective.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just being smart.”

A muscle tightened in Phillip’s lean cheek. He was better-looking than Cantrell, Sage decided, but the bigger man was far more imposing. She tried not to draw a comparison, which Cantrell would surely lose. Phillip held an MBA from Princeton. He knew classical music, appreciated art and ballet. Things they enjoyed together. Cantrell was a marine who knew how to fire a gun.

Which, she noticed as he turned to the side, probably explained the lump in the waistband of his jeans beneath his T-shirt. Surely he didn’t think it was necessary to carry a weapon. She made a mental note to broach the subject as soon as they were alone.

“Are you sure you can’t put this off until tomorrow?” Phillip asked her, positioning himself between her and Jake.

“I wish I could. You know how important it is to me, Phillip.”

“Of course, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, flashed a look at Jake. “Take care of her, Cantrell.”

Jake’s mouth edged up. “I plan to.”

There was something in the way he said it that made her feel like blushing. Phillip cast him a last hard glance and walked out of the office.

Sage waited long enough for Phillip to reach the elevator, hoping to avoid any more of the subtle tension swirling between the men. Then, slinging her leather bag over her shoulder, she started once more for the door.

“There’s a Chinese Express just down the block,” she said. “We can go there.”

“I’ve got a table for us at Bella’s Cusina. It’s only a few blocks farther.”

She glanced back at him. It was a power play, pure and simple, a move to let her know she might be a Dumont, but he was the one in charge.

“You won’t be on the job,” he reminded her.

“So you’re the boss tonight, is that it?”

“Exactly.”

She blew out a breath. What did it matter? It was only dinner. Besides, she had to admit there was a tiny part of her that liked when a man took charge.

It didn’t happen often. And it wouldn’t last long.

“Italian sounds great. If you want to know the truth, I’m starving.”

Cantrell smiled. It was the first real smile she had seen and it made her breath catch. This wasn’t good.

Walking together across the reception area, they stepped into an elevator and headed downstairs. There was a security guard at the desk in the lobby. He came in after closing and stayed until midnight, then someone else took over till the company opened in the morning.

“We’ll be back a little later, Marvin,” she said to the guard, a big, pudgy black man with a kindly face. “By the way, this is Jake Cantrell. He’s providing security for the next few days. It’s all right for him to go in and out whenever he needs to.”

“That’s what Mr. Dumont said.”

She should have known her grandfather would make it easy for Cantrell to do his job. Ian wanted her safe. He was determined.

“Your grandfather gave me a parking pass,” Jake said. “My Jeep’s in the executive lot. With those shoes, maybe you’d better ride.”

She looked down at her Jimmy Choos. Riding would be good. “Might be hard to find a parking space at the restaurant.”

“I don’t think so. Not this time of night.”

He led her to a fancy black Jeep that seemed the perfect fit for him, having big wide tires with chrome rims and a roll bar that would show when the top was down. Which, thankfully, it wasn’t. As hot as it was, she was glad to get in out of the heat.

He helped her climb inside, which wasn’t that easy in a snug skirt and high heels. As she snapped her seat belt into place, Cantrell rounded the car, then slid in behind the wheel and cranked the engine.

It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, and since most people in the downtown area went home after work, there were parking places in the lot. The maître d’, a little man with slicked-back black hair, greeted them effusively. Clearly, he knew Cantrell.

Or maybe he was just afraid of him. Sage hid a grin.

“Mr. Cantrell, it’s good to see you. I have your table ready, if you’ll come this way?”

“Thanks, Mario.” A big hand settled at her waist as Jake guided her to a table with a red-checked cloth and a little red candle in the middle. Typical Italian, but the place seemed downright homey. Sage liked it right away.

She sat down and picked up a menu. When the waiter arrived, she ordered the pasta primavera with extra vegetables.

“I’ll have the lasagna, and bring us a couple glasses of Chianti.” Jake glanced over at her. “Unless you’d like something else?”

“I’d love a glass, but I wasn’t planning to drink. I need to have my wits about me.”

“You don’t have to finish it.” He nodded at the waiter and the man disappeared, returning a few minutes later with the wine.

Sage took a sip, glad Jake had ordered it, after all. She felt suddenly nervous as she looked across the table at the handsome man.

“So you’re going to marry Phillip Stanton,” he said, taking a drink of his wine.

“That’s right. We thought maybe sometime next year.”

“But you don’t live together. Your grandfather mentioned that when we discussed some of the security issues.”

“No. Phillip spends a great deal of time out of the country. In fact, the day after tomorrow he’s returning to his office in Edinburgh.”

“Makes things a lot easier.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, especially when she noticed the way those blue eyes slid over her.

Cantrell turned his attention to business, pulling folded sheets of paper out of his back pocket. “First, I’ve got a couple of questions.”

“Fire away.”

“How long will the Saudis be here?”

“The trip is open-ended. I’m hoping not more than a week. They arrive on Tuesday. I figure we should give them Wednesday to relax, then bring them into the office on Thursday and begin the negotiations.”

With a faint smile, Cantrell started shaking his head.

Sage knew right then it was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Jake leaned back in his chair. He had a nice view of a very pretty woman, all smooth skin, golden eyes and softly curling dark brown hair. For several long moments he allowed himself to enjoy it, didn’t even fight the hardening of his body beneath the table. Unfortunately, his relationship with Sage Dumont was strictly business. He intended to remind himself of that on a daily basis.

“To start with, Thursday and Friday are going to pose a problem,” he said. “That’s more or less a Saudi’s weekend. They’ll expect you to entertain them on Thursday, then Friday is a day of relaxation and meditation. Like our Saturdays and Sundays.”

Jake caught Sage’s exasperated sigh as she set her wineglass on the table. “The office is closed on the weekend. That means we’ll have to wait until Monday before we even start.”

“You might as well resign yourself. The Saudis take everything slowly. They’ll need to get to know you before they even begin to think about negotiations.”

“I read that, but I didn’t think it would mean losing almost a week.”

The waiter arrived just then with their food. Jake let the conversation drift while they dug into their meals. The lasagna was damn good, as always. Bella’s was a personal favorite of his in the area. From the look of pure pleasure on Sage’s pretty face, he figured she was enjoying it, too.

“This is wonderful,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I can’t remember when I’ve had a chance to do more than grab a snack here and there.”

Jake was beginning to think maybe Annie was right, and Sage had climbed the corporate ladder with a lot of hard work. Not that being a Dumont hadn’t opened the door.

“Okay, what else?” she asked.

“You’ll need someone you work with to attend the meetings with you. He’ll be the one who asks most of the questions.”

“But I can handle that.”

“If you do, they’ll think you’re a lackey. They’ll figure they should be speaking to someone else, someone who has the actual authority.”

Sage shook her head. “I spent half the day reading up on all this, and I still don’t have a clue. I hate to say it, but I’m glad you’re here to help.”

Jake’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t expected to hear those words, at least not so soon.

“There is one thing,” she said.

He swallowed the bite of lasagna he had taken. “Which is…?”

“I don’t like the idea of you carrying a gun. I assume that’s what you’ve got clipped to your belt. Do you think it’s really necessary? I mean, as big as you are, and with the training you’ve had, surely you can handle any problem that might come up without shooting someone.”