Not on His Watch

Brushing off his sleeve, he said, “Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’m going to have cameras installed in your office.”

Her reverie of Quint and his ranch vanished as she snapped back to reality. Natalie didn’t like the idea of being under constant surveillance. Most especially, she didn’t want protection dictated by her father. It felt like he was asking for a baby monitor.

“Why in my office?”

“The package you received today—the one you handed over to your friend, Whitney—didn’t come through the mail room. It was hand delivered.”

“The hall cameras must have—”

“Our security men reviewed the tapes. A couple of times, the door to Maria Luisa’s office opened and closed, but they couldn’t identify anyone going in or coming out.”

“Not even after they paused and enhanced the image?” Natalie asked.

“Nothing definite. And, of course, there were people who had legitimate reasons to enter your office. The guy from the mail room. One of your assistants. Gordon Doeller.” He exhaled a slightly ragged sigh. “I’m worried about you.”

Which was exactly why she didn’t want special security measures. All her life, Natalie had struggled with accusations of nepotism. Of course, she’d ascended through the ranks at Quantum more quickly than someone not named Van Buren. She was the youngest vice president and the only female one at corporate headquarters. Still, her job performance justified her position. She worked hard and was more than competent.

She asked, “If someone else—Gordon Doeller, for example—had received these threats, would you insist on a camera in his office?”

Her father’s hesitation provided an answer.

“I thought not,” Natalie said. “Please understand, Henry. I don’t want an office camera. It’s an unnecessary expense, and I need privacy.”

Henry scowled. “What for?”

“Sensitive aspects of public relations. I might leak information to one reporter and not another. My staff meetings need to be confidential. I don’t want a record of everything I do.”

She thought of her confrontation with Quint this morning. Their game of grab-the-package would have made embarrassing viewing for a bored security guard. “Please, Henry. Respect my wishes.”

“We’ll see.”

She and her father moved forward to say their goodbyes to Prince Zahir and his entourage, who were preparing to take their leave. As if she’d needed further confirmation that her position at Quantum was unique, the prince singled her out for his attention.

He clasped her hand, then lifted her fingertips to his lips. His dark eyes devoured her with an embarrassing, lip-smacking lasciviousness.

Though she had to admit that he was impeccably handsome, she wasn’t swept away. The exotic fragrance of his cologne, reminiscent of sandalwood and sage, was too strong for her taste. His features were too perfect. His voice oozed like rancid oil. Also, as Zahir admitted himself, he was engaged. She snatched her hand from his grasp. What a creep!

“Until we meet again, Natalie.”

Crisply, she lied, “I look forward to it.”

As the prince and his companions departed with their uniformed chauffeur, the Quantum employees left behind heaved a collective sigh of relief. This impromptu reception had not been on their agendas.

“Thank you, everyone,” Natalie said. “We’ll have more information on the prince’s visit tomorrow. Be prepared for some extra meetings.”

Jerome Harris, head of Accounting, popped up beside her. He was a rabbity little man who would’ve been irritating if his fussy attention to detail had not saved Quantum hundreds of thousands of dollars.

“Pencil me in for tomorrow, Natalie. I have details you’ll need for the Washington trip.”

“New information?” His prior briefings had seemed utterly complete.

Jerome nodded three times in rapid succession. “I’ve been talking with Quint Crawford. He pointed out a contract clause I might have overlooked in my accounting review.”

Not only was it hard to believe that fidgety little Jerome had allowed any detail to escape his scrutiny, but she was surprised to hear that Quint had been so cleverly precise. “Really?”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Gotta go. I’m late.”

As Jerome bustled toward the exit, Natalie was reminded of the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, running off with his pocket watch and mumbling about being late for a very important date. No such image occurred when she saw Quint sauntering toward her.

“Miss Natalie,” he said, ignoring her instruction to call her only Natalie, “I hate to trouble you, but I have one more request for today.”

Now what? “Yes?”

“I’d like to stretch my legs a bit,” he drawled. “May I walk you home?”

Suspiciously, she asked, “How do you know I live close enough to walk?”

“Your daddy might have mentioned your address.”

She glanced across the room toward Henry, a man she hadn’t called “daddy” since she was a very little girl. It seemed he was pushing her toward Quint who was—apparently—an eligible bachelor. Never mind that he was definitely not her type. Never mind that he was still grieving the loss of his wife. Her “daddy” wanted them to spend time together. “Dear daddy” was doing a lot of pushing lately.

Natalie dug in her heels. She’d spent most of her day with Quint. An after-work assignment was too much. “Sorry, but I planned to stop off at the gym.”

“That’s fine by me,” he said. “I’d enjoy a workout myself.”

An amused grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as she visualized Quint wearing his Stetson, cowboy boots…and jogging shorts. “You work out?”

He flexed his biceps and leaned toward her. “Feel that.”

Oh, good grief! Did he have to be so consistently embarrassing? “I’d rather not.”

“Go ahead,” he urged. “I’m in shape.”

“Well, I’m sure you are.”

Maria Luisa sidled up to him. “I’ll feel it.”

Her long slender fingers reached up to curl around his upper arm, and she exhaled a soft moan. “Very hard.”

“Thank you, Mary Lou,” Quint said.

She purred, “Any other muscles you want me to touch? Maybe your glutes?”

Quint peeked over his shoulder at his buttocks. “Sorry to say, I’ve never had a whole lot of muscle mass back there. My rump gets worn down from too much time in the saddle.”

“Looks fine to me,” Maria Luisa said.

On the verge of a snarl, Natalie looked down her nose at this blatant display of innuendo. Coolly, she suggested, “Perhaps, Quint, you could make sure Maria Luisa gets home safely.”