Christmas Guardian

Jordan was a ruthless businessman, along with being a rich player who enjoyed the company of lots of women. He would have taken care of her son, but she seriously doubted he would ever think of himself as a father.

“Who’s taking care of him?” Kinley asked.

She waited.

And waited.

He opened his mouth, and she thought she might finally learn an answer to one of her many questions, but before he could say anything, his phone rang.

Jordan didn’t waste any time answering it. “Cody,” he said after glancing at the screen. He took the turn toward his neighborhood. The street switched from four lanes to two, and though it was well lit with a line of streetlights, it felt isolated because the lots were so spacious.

She couldn’t hear Cody’s side of the conversation, but she could see Jordan’s reaction. She noticed his grip tighten on the wheel. Saw the muscles flicker in his jaw.

“You’re sure?” Jordan asked. Then he paused. “No. I’ll take it from here.” Another pause. “I need to ask you to keep this between us.”

A moment later, Jordan ended the call.

“What happened?” Kinley wanted to know when he didn’t offer any information.

“Do you know a guy named Anderson Walker?”

Kinley thought a moment. “No. That name doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”

“He’s the one following us.”

She glanced in the mirror. He was still following them. “What does he want?”

Jordan shrugged, but there was nothing casual about his body language. “He’s a P.I. who works for Burke Securities.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Burke Securities as in the Burke Dennison who bought your company?”

“The very one.”

Kinley shook her head. “Why does Burke have someone following us?”

Another muscle went to work in his jaw. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not being very subtle. And he knows we’re on to him. If I just keep driving, it might send him the wrong message—that we have something to hide.” Jordan took his foot off the accelerator. “Get down now.”

Jordan spun the steering wheel around, causing his Porsche to do a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. It was precise. As if he’d choreographed it, he bumped into the rear side of the black car and sent it into a spin.

Before Kinley could stop him, Jordan drew his gun and threw open the door.

Chapter Four (#ulink_63a1672b-e08f-5715-852d-dadbcc56c211)

The black car screeched to a stop.

Jordan hadn’t given the driver much of a choice, since he’d angled his Porsche so that the guy couldn’t get around him. That was the plan, anyway.

It was time to confront this bozo.

Jordan didn’t get out, but he aimed his gun. And he waited. Since this was Burke’s man, Jordan was counting heavily on the fact that the P.I. didn’t have orders to kill. His gut told him this was strictly surveillance. Too bad his gut didn’t tell him why Burke had put a tail on him.

Thankfully, there were no other vehicles on the street. There probably wouldn’t be, either. The street was private, leading only to his neighborhood, and this time of night, there weren’t many residents out and about. Jordan wanted that privacy in case this took an ugly turn.

“Should I call the police?” Kinley asked. Her breath was jagged, and she had her purse in a white-knuckle grip.

“No.” Not yet anyway. If he phoned anyone, it’d be Burke to find out what the devil was going on. That call would still happen, but first he wanted answers from the guy who’d tailed them.

“Anderson Walker!” Jordan called out, and he made sure it didn’t sound like a question.

The man still didn’t budge, and Jordan wondered if he’d made a mistake by jumping into this confrontation.

Especially with Kinley in the car.

Maybe he should have waited, but he really just wanted to end this here and now. He didn’t want anyone following him, especially when he didn’t know their intentions and when they were being so obvious about following Kinley and him.

“Walker!” Jordan shouted.

That did it. The door to the black car opened, and the sandy-haired guy stepped out. Anderson was what Jordan called a muscle man. Bulky shoulders. Young. He looked physically capable of pulverizing someone with his bare hands. Jordan had a few P.I.s like that on the Sentron staff because there were times when a strong arm was needed.

So, why had Burke or Anderson thought he needed some intimidation?

Anderson held his gun in his right hand. Not aimed. He had his index finger through the trigger loop, but the gun dangled upside down in a nonthreatening position.

Jordan went for the threat. He pointed his Sig Sauer right at the man.

“You plan to shoot me?” Anderson challenged. He had cocky written all over him.

“That depends on your answer to my question. Why are you following me?”

Anderson started to shift his gun, as if getting ready to aim. Jordan stepped forward and put his Sig Sauer at the guy’s head. “Don’t,” Jordan warned.

Anderson froze. And Jordan said a silent prayer of thanks. He didn’t want to start a gunfight, and he didn’t want to put Kinley in danger. She apparently had enough danger after her without his adding more.

“Toss your gun into your car,” Jordan instructed.

Anderson looked at his gun. At Jordan’s. Then at Jordan himself. Jordan put on his best scowl, which he didn’t have to fake. There was plenty to scowl about. Anderson finally relented and put the gun inside his car. That didn’t mean they were safe because Jordan figured the guy was carrying at least one other backup pistol. Heck, he might even have actual backup in the form of another P.I. or security agent.

“Why are you following me?” Jordan repeated.

“It’s not personal.”

Jordan arched his left eyebrow and gave him a flat look. “And that’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I can give you. My employer didn’t say why he wanted you followed, only that I was to report where you went tonight and who went with you.”