Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“He was a bloody commando, Daisy,” her da pointed out, also proving he was not in the cool and calm “we” she’d talked about.
Men could be emotional creatures. “I’m sure he’s excellent on a battlefield, but traffic is a whole other story. It can be brutal, Da. We have to make allowances.”
Devi stood there looking at her, shaking her head. “This might be the Daisiest thing you’ve ever done.”
Aunt Erin leaned against the doorjamb next to her not so mini me. “Nah, calling Liam in the middle of a gunfight and asking him if he’s had breakfast this morning before mentioning the whole ‘we’re being shot at’ thing—that’s the Daisiest thing she’s done today.”
“Well, he gets cranky if he doesn’t have his breakfast.” Her aunt should know that, and when had they started using her name as an adjective? Maybe she should stuff a couple of bangers down her da’s throat. He was better when he wasn’t hangry.
“My darling girl was being her sweet self and trying to look out for her old man, but I think Nathan has a few things to answer for,” her da proclaimed. “He seems to have a mistaken impression of how we handle clients at this company. He’s a McKay-Taggart bodyguard, and the minute he agreed to take her to work, she became his client. I’m going to talk to Tessa about her training protocols.”
“Oh, I think he’s treating her exactly like a client,” Uncle Ian said under his breath.
“Hypocrite.” Aunt Erin managed to say the word on a cough.
Daisy wasn’t sure what was going on, but she needed to get the older generation off this particular topic as quickly as possible. “I am not Nate’s client. We’re coworkers.”
“That’s right,” her da said with a firm nod. “There’s no way I’m letting that youngster anywhere close to my Daisy. He doesn’t have the right experience, and it’s obvious to me he’s got some hormones to deal with. We’ve got a proper guard for you. A married, stable man.”
“Mae, I got your email. Brighton’s on his way in,” Uncle Ian said, stopping in front of Mae’s desk. “Alex is downstairs dealing with the uniforms. Call down and give them a plate. I’m sure the feds will be here soon. It’s going to be a fun day.”
“Devi, love, would you run downstairs and ask Brian to join us in the conference room?” her da asked. “And bring Tessa up, too. We need a twenty-four-seven watch on Daisy. We might need to bring in some more people. Ian, I’m going to move her to a safe house.”
That sounded terrible. “I don’t need a safe house. I want to stay at my place.”
Her father’s head shook. “Not happening. I’ll be honest, I’m thinking about shipping you straight to Damon. They can watch you at The Garden.”
“Hey, Ian,” a masculine voice called out. “I was hoping to talk to you this morning.”
Liam sighed in obvious relief as Brian Langton walked in, saving Devi the trip downstairs. “Thank the heavens. Brian, let’s go to my office and we’ll talk about what we need to keep my Daisy safe.”
Langton was in his mid-forties, and he was about as basic as a guy his age got. He had a seemingly never-ending supply of khakis and polo shirts, all in neutral colors. He turned to her father, his face falling as though this was exactly the situation he’d been trying to avoid. “I was… I was… Damn it. Liam, I’m not taking the assignment.” He looked Daisy’s way, an apologetic expression on his face. “It’s nothing against you, Daisy. You’re a very nice young lady, but I have three kids. My wife is a stay-at-home mom and honestly, the insurance we have isn’t enough if… Well, if the inevitable happens.”
What was he trying to say? “What does insurance have to do with it? And what’s inevitable?”
Devi leaned in, whispering. “I think he thinks he’s going to die.”
Brian frowned and turned to Ian. “Look, boss, I like my job, but I like my life more. Daisy O’Donnell is trouble. Send me to protect like a mobster or something. Anyone but her.”
Rude. No one had ever died around her. Well, there had been one time, but it hadn’t been her fault.
Her father stepped up to her side, his eyes narrow. “It’s good to know that now, ain’t it? I’ll protect her myself. I’ll have us on a plane to London in no time. We’ll hole up at The Garden, you and me and your mum.”
“For how long?” Aunt Erin asked. “Because I don’t know if you’re aware, but the wheels of the American justice system can grind slowly, my friend. Should I pack up your house? Let Serena know she’s losing her assistant?”
Her mother loved her job. She ran the business portion of Serena Dean-Miles’s publishing company. It only published Serena’s books, but there was a lot of work to do. And the conference season was about to start.