Keeping Her Close. Carol Ross

He’s probably already sent it—I haven’t checked. I figured I would have time to review it all in the morning.”

      Kyle nodded. “Obviously, I messed that up. I was driving right by here anyway, so I decided to drop in and introduce myself. I thought you might be feeling anxious after the attempted attack on your dad. And, honestly, I didn’t know how you’d feel about hiring me? Specifically. Because of Owen.”

      Jaw tight, mouth a hard, flat line, his eyes blazed with intensity as they searched her face, his expression saying so much, and revealing so little at the same time. She chose to ignore the question because she couldn’t answer it. Not yet. Not until he answered a few of her questions first. Her attention was drawn to the news story still on her tablet. Shifting her focus to the headline, she read it again: “BEST CEO Bellaire Attacked.” Her father had called it “an incident.” Lately, episodes like this had been happening more and more, where some extremist got in his face screaming about dams or salmon—depending on which side of the issue they stood.

      That much, at least, she could explain. “Yeah, he downplayed the incident significantly. That’s what he called it—an incident. He never said ‘attack,’ or even ‘attempted attack.’”

      “I doubt he did. More likely, the news is overdramatizing. I’d call it an incident. The guy didn’t even touch your dad.”

      “Because of you.” This person undoubtedly had intentions to hurt her dad. You could see the anger all over his face, the hatred in his body language. Gratitude and appreciation mingled with her shock. She wanted to hug the man standing before her, except he was the opposite of huggable. So not warm and fuzzy. More than once, Owen had said that he’d never seen a better soldier than his friend Kyle. Nor had he ever had a better friend. He worshipped the ground this guy walked on.

      If there was one positive thing she could say about Owen, it was that he’d been good at his job. Thanks to his navy training and experience, he knew how to move people and supplies and keep them safe. And other things, she thought distastefully, like he’d done in Africa. If Owen thought Kyle was the best, then he probably was. But that still didn’t answer her question.

      “But why you? I mean, why were you there? And how did you—? I have…” So many questions. She glanced up at Kyle and felt her pulse accelerate again. What she had were too many feelings. Could she handle having this living and breathing reminder of Owen in her life every day for the next however-many weeks?

      But Kyle had seemed to anticipate her emotional quagmire, and he sought to untangle it. “I was in your dad’s building because I had an interview with Dahlia International.”

      At the mention of Dahlia, Harper tensed, a familiar feeling of frustration stealing over her. She may have scowled, but thankfully Kyle didn’t seem to notice.

      He went on, “I’d met your dad twice with Owen. Had lunch in Seattle and spent some time with him in Amsterdam. You’re really lucky. He’s an extraordinary guy. Anyway, I saw him in the lobby, and he’d just walked over to say hi when this guy went after him. And I… I helped out. Afterward, your dad and I talked some more. He expressed his concerns about your safety, I gave him some advice and he offered me this job. I don’t start with Dahlia for another month or so. So, here I am.”

      Harper exhaled a breath. This all made sense. In the way that cosmic jokes, or colliding fates, or whatever this encounter might be made sense anyway. Inexplicably, she felt herself both repelled by and drawn to Kyle Frasier. More proof that her own judgment was not to be trusted. In this case, she supposed only time would tell. If she chose to hire him, that is… Time. Oh, jeez, she’d forgotten all about Mikhail!

      Snagging her phone off the counter, she pointed it at him as she sidestepped toward the doorway. “You know what? We’ll talk about this later.” She picked up her bag from the floor where she’d placed it earlier and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Tomorrow morning, okay? When you come for your interview, we’ll figure all of this out and—”

      “Harper, I think we should talk about it now,” Kyle countered smoothly. “The sooner we work out some of these details, the better.” That voice. Deep and low with just enough compassion that Harper found herself wanting to comply. Or maybe the compassion part was her imagination, her hope, that this guy was only like Owen in the good ways. That he might be as willing to help her as he’d been to help her dad. But how likely was that? Like brothers, she’d heard Owen say countless times about himself and Kyle. Just because birds had similar feathers didn’t mean they always flocked together, right? Or maybe they did. See? Clearly, she needed to sort this through.

      “Okay, tonight, then. After my date.” She gestured toward the front door. “I’ve kept the poor guy waiting and confused long enough. We’ll skip the bungee jumping, go and have a quiet dinner somewhere, and then I’ll come back, and you and I can have a proper interview.”

      “Oh. Your date is gone.”

      “Gone? Where is he?”

      Kyle shrugged. “In his car cruising down Highway 101, I’m guessing.”

      “What did you tell him?”

      “That you’d call him later.”

      “I don’t have his number.”

      “You don’t—” He broke off with a sigh of frustration. “What do you know about him? Did you have him checked out?”

      “He’s a friend of a friend,” she answered evasively and yes, a little defensively. At the flicker of disapproval that crossed his face, she added, “I agreed to the date a week ago.” Somehow, she needed to explain her rationale. But how uncomfortable and awkward to admit that she’d been excited (sort of) to go on the first date she’d had since she’d been involved with his deceased best friend. Where they’d been in a relationship based on deception that had ended very badly. This was insane. What was she doing? What was he doing here agreeing to babysit his best friend’s ex, anyway? Who did that? Why would he do that?

      “Well, from now on, you’re not going out with Mikhail or anyone else until they’ve been vetted. That includes a background check and all the accompanying intel. And an…assessment.”

      “An assessment?” Her voice went high and a little shrill.

      His expression seemed to thaw slightly. “Yes, I’ll want to meet them. But don’t worry, they won’t know they’re being assessed.” Kyle offered up a hand in a placating gesture. “No one has to know you have a…security consultant working for you. As far as your friends, and dates, know I’m an old family friend staying in your guesthouse and helping with some maintenance. Your dad, if you agree, has hired me temporarily with the hope that this will quickly blow over. In the meantime, I’m going to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

      “Take care of myself?” she repeated, taking advantage of the unintentional gaffe. “Are there cooking lessons involved? What about laundry?” He went wide-eyed, and Harper almost laughed.

      “No, I meant… I mean security-wise. I’m going to help you be more aware of your surroundings and potential threats and what to do if you are threatened. I’m going to teach you how to use every feature of your security system and—”

      “Kyle, I know what you meant. I was joking. I’m sorry, I’m a bit stressed, and I tend to…” She cut herself off because she didn’t need to point out her habit of making bad jokes under duress. She’d already provided him with ample evidence when she thought he was her date. “Let’s, um, do you want to sit down?” Harper gestured toward the living room.

      “Sure.”

      Harper watched him walk into the next room. As much as she didn’t want to, it was impossible not to compare the two men. On the surface, they had similar features, brown hair, brown eyes, same olive complexion. But everything about Kyle, including his expression, was darker. Kyle didn’t possess Owen’s extreme good looks, but he’d be plenty handsome if he weren’t so…severe. His thick brown hair