Men In Uniform: Taken By The Soldier. Jo Leigh

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      Only the good ones. He took a series of deep breaths and tuned in to her animated answer.

      ‘…and you might consider moving the counter, too. It’s perfectly positioned to watch the door but terrible for watching the whole store. Deter, detect, delay.’ Her entire demeanour changed when she was problem solving. That brightness in her eyes, the way she leaned forwards slightly, the tilt of her head to the left as she was reasoning. She rattled on for another sixty seconds. She certainly didn’t seem to have an agenda, other than showing him how crap WildSprings’s security had become while he wasn’t on point.

      She reined in her galloping enthusiasm long enough to note his expression. ‘What?’

      ‘You noticed all of this in the few minutes you were in the store?’ Clint asked her. She shrugged. ‘Tell me why I should hire you, Ms Carvell.’

      She measured him with her eyes. ‘I have immediate experience in a wildlife setting and I specialise in perimeter control. A park this size is going to be difficult to manage if you can’t secure your boundaries. I’ve also worked on retail security and I have outstanding networks in state enforcement, customs and—’

      He thrust up a hand. ‘Plenty of people have the background for this job. Tell me why I should hire you.’

      One perfectly shaped brow rose as he cut her off and she took a deep breath. ‘Because I’m hungry for the job. I don’t come with baggage or an agenda or some kind of burning desire to run the place. I enjoy what I do and I thrive on challenge but you won’t lose me the moment I get comfortable in the job. I’m loyal and I’m honest…’

      He tried not to glance at the array of stolen items on the desktop.

      ‘…and I’m very good at what I do,’ she finished up, sitting high in her chair, leaning towards him intently. It would be so easy to trust those steady eyes. Except trust was a stranger around here.

      ‘You haven’t been very honest today,’ he said.

      ‘Neither have you.’

      Clint sat back. She had a point. ‘So what aren’t you good at? What are your weaknesses?’ Anxiety flared and faded in those grey eyes in a heartbeat. But not so fast he didn’t see it.

      ‘I’m not brilliant at adhering to routine. It isn’t in my nature. I realise that might be a sticking point given your…’ She faltered. ‘Given where you’re from.’

      Mental sirens started wailing. She’d looked into his past? His voice was dangerously cool as he asked her, ‘And where’s that?’

      She cleared her throat. ‘Your military background.’

      Only a dozen civilians knew he was a Taipan. Every hair on his body stood erect. He leaned forwards, his voice subzero. ‘What military background?’

      She stared him down. ‘Every inch of you is military. Special Forces, I’m guessing, by the way you like to intimidate people. I understand if you prefer not to discuss it but please do me the courtesy of not treating me like an idiot.’

      He reined in his heartbeat and sheer willpower forced the tension out of his body. ‘You don’t look intimidated.’

      She straightened until he thought she might snap. ‘I grew out of the habit. It takes a lot more than arrogance to get under my skin these days, Mr McLeish.’

      Thoughts tumbled through his mind in quick succession. First, that he’d really like to discover what did get under her skin. Second, it had to be her ex who’d been in the military; he’d never got a clearer anti-forces vibe from anyone. Third, she was the first person to call him arrogant to his face without even blinking. And, most pressing, that he really wanted to hear his name on her lips.

       Justin was going to be so pissed.

      ‘Call me Clint, Ms Carvell. Since we’re going to be working together.’

      She watched him, warily. ‘You’re hiring me?’

      The harder she tried to mask her excitement the more colour stained her cheeks. He wondered if she’d intentionally hit every one of his weak points. The kid. The eyes. The virginal blush.

      ‘It takes guts to pull off what you did today, and also a keen understanding of operational vulnerabilities. That tells me you know your stuff and you’re prepared to take risks.’

      Her body language changed in a flash and the colour drained out of her. ‘I can’t afford to take risks, Mr McLeish. I have a son to think about. If this job represents any kind of danger, then I’ll have to pass.’

      ‘Clint. And there is no danger—it was a figure of speech. But young boys will always find trouble if they’re looking for it. We have electric fences, deep stretches of bush between our luxury chalets.’ He paused and swallowed hard. ‘Dams. A wilderness property still has plenty of potential danger.’

      She watched him warily. ‘No more than the city, I imagine. But it offers one thing the city can’t for an eight-year-old nature freak. Wildlife. Leighton will die when he hears we get to stay.’

      She’s doing this for her son. The realisation hit him like a mortar. For all her extremely convincing claims to be seeking challenge, a role to get her teeth into, she was really looking for a safe place to bring up her son.

      A sanctuary.

      He was hardly in a position to judge since he’d come to WildSprings for precisely the same reason…

      ‘Are you aware accommodation is part of the deal?’ he asked. If young Leighton wanted wildlife he wouldn’t be disappointed. The mile between his house and theirs was packed with all manner of creatures. One mile. The closest anyone had come to being a neighbour in…forever. Three years at WildSprings and eleven years in the Defence Force before that. No fixed address. What the hell was he going to do with a neighbour? Apart from the obvious…

      Avoid them.

      ‘I wasn’t, no. But it makes sense to have security on-site this far from town.’

      ‘Can’t imagine yourself in all this tranquillity?’

      ‘On the contrary.’ Her stare bored into him. ‘I look forward to the solitary existence very much.’

      He straightened. Message sent and received.

      Well, that was fine with him. He had no interest in playing happy neighbours no matter who her son reminded him of. The more space Romy Carvell gave him, the happier he’d be regardless of whatever this was arcing between them. There was no chance she’d let him close enough to form any kind of friendship and he had no interest in one.

      Plus, he was now her boss, which put a really fat bullet in any possible chance of anything ever starting up between them. Not that she’d be seeing him again; in precisely twelve minutes he’d be returning to the privacy of his forest cabin, his massive DVD collection, his rapidly expanding library and his blessed MIA status.

      Little Miss Snarky was now officially his brother’s problem. He looked at all five foot three of СКАЧАТЬ