Under Pressure. Lori Foster

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Under Pressure

      Lori Foster

CHAPTER ONE

      LEESE PHELPS STOOD in the cold early evening air, his breath frosting in front of him. Lights at the nearby bus station blinked in an annoying mismatched pattern. A cascade of foil Valentine’s Day hearts hung loose, almost touching the ground. Not exactly romantic, but then, he wasn’t in a romantic mood.

      Behind him, completely hidden in the shadows, his friend Justice complained, “My balls are freezing.”

      Still watching the surrounding area, Leese said, “You should try wearing underwear.”

      “The ladies would complain. They like me commando.”

      Leese started to smile, until a shadow shifted from the right side of an alley that bisected the station from a cheap hotel. He said, “Shh.”

      “This is it?” Justice whispered. “You see her?”

      “Quiet.” Leese pressed farther back into the darkness, his gaze alert, his senses zinging.

      A woman, small in stature, emerged dragging an enormous suitcase with a broken wheel. As it tried to pull her sideways, she relentlessly forced it through slush and blackened snow. Her narrowed gaze scanned the area with nervous awareness.

      Leese didn’t move, but still her attention shot back in his direction. She stared, watchful and wary, until he stepped out.

      Trying not to look threatening, Leese propped a shoulder on the brick facade of the vacated building. He glanced at her, then away, as if dismissing her.

      She continued to stare.

      Now what to do?

      “What’s happening?” Justice whispered.

      “Nothing. Be quiet.”

      The girl wore jeans with snow boots, a puffy coat that covered her to her knees and a black stocking cap pulled down to her eyebrows. Straight brown hair stuck out from the bottom.

      When she finally looked away, it was to drop the suitcase and whip around, facing the way she’d come.

      Two men stepped out, followed by a third.

      The third smiled at her. “Going somewhere, Cat? Without saying goodbye?”

      Suspicions confirmed, Leese watched Catalina Nicholson take a defiant stance. That didn’t surprise him. As soon as he’d been given this assignment, he’d learned what he could of her.

      She came from a wealthy family of lawyers and CEOs, people with far-reaching political and business connections. They were the movers and shakers of the world, influencing other powerful people effortlessly.

      But Catalina had bucked convention by becoming an elementary school art teacher, something her family hadn’t liked. She clearly enjoyed her luxuries, but wanted to earn them herself. Some inheritances helped to pave the way on that, but from all reports, she’d proven herself to be headstrong and independent. Small in size but not in attitude.

      Here, in the slums of Danbrook, Ohio, she was far away from her usual routine of dealing with middle-class families and their grade-school children.

      “That’s right, Wayne,” she said, her voice strong. “I’m leaving.”

      “I don’t think so,” the man called Wayne said, and his two cronies moved to surround her. “Not just yet. Not until you pay up on all those promises you made.”

      Strangely enough, Catalina looked back at Leese again, her expression a touch desperate.

      Even from a distance, he felt her silent request for help.

      “Stay put unless you see that I need you,” Leese told Justice. He was pretty sure he could handle things without drawing his gun, but there was always a chance he’d cause a ruckus and then, to protect her, they’d need to make a run for it. “Be ready with the car.”

      Justice grumbled, “I miss all the fun.”

      His boots crunching in the frozen snow, Leese headed toward her in a casual stride.

      Relief took the starch out of her shoulders. If he could defuse things without violence, that’d be for the best. Right now, the bus station was all but empty. But if a brawl broke out, for sure it’d draw attention from somewhere.

      As he approached, the men all went still, watchful, before deciding he didn’t matter.

      Idiots.

      Leese stepped up in front of her, blocking the pushiest guy, forcing him back a step.

      “Hey!”

      “Excuse me.” Insinuating himself between her and the big goon, Leese insulated her from trouble, then turned to face her. Catalina was probably a foot shorter than him, and even in the thick coat she seemed slim all over. She tipped back her head and stared up at him with big blue eyes that were both wary and defiant.

      By silent agreement, she trusted him, when that was the very last thing she should have done. No wonder he’d been sent to her.

      Leese hefted her bag, which weighed a ton, and maintaining the casual vibe said, “This way,” indicating where he’d been standing watch.

      Without bothering to look at the other men, she drew a careful breath, braced herself and nodded in agreement.