Sweat dripped into Hamilton's eyes. His angry breaths came in short spurts as he sent a left hook, then a right uppercut to the hundred-pound punching bag that hung from a wood beam on the ceiling. He didn't bother wiping his face. All he could do was keep sticking his punches and moving his feet.
The last person he had expected to see today was Wesley Bradford. Hell, he hadn't even planned to run into Dakota, but the pleasant surprise hadn’t thrown him off-kilter as much as the shock of seeing her father.
Her father.
Damn.
His jaw tightened and the rhythm of his punches increased, sending shock waves through his arms each time his fists connected with the bag. Hatred descended on him like a three-ton boulder at the maddening realization that the two were related.
How could that be?
How had he not known that Wesley had a daughter?
Hamilton grunted and growled, putting his full weight behind each strike he threw. He hadn’t bothered putting on boxing gloves, wanting to feel the burn. Now his knuckles were probably close to bleeding and his fists and arms throbbed as his punches came faster and harder. He didn’t care.
He’d been in the company’s fitness center for the past half-hour, finding little peace in pummeling the punching bag. The workout was supposed to tamp down the hate and anger pulsing through him. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working. But each time he made contact with the bag, he imagined he was connecting with Wesley Bradford’s face. The man who had almost destroyed him.
“Rough day?”
Hamilton heard Mason before he saw him. It wasn’t until his friend stood on the other side of the bag, holding it in place did Hamilton lighten up on his jabs. But he kept moving.
“I don’t hate many people. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of anyone I hate more than Wesley,” Hamilton said, his punches growing harder again. Mason could take it. Former marine sniper, the guy was fit and built like a damn truck. Hamilton was no slacker, but the body conditioning Mason had done in the military was still a part of his routine. The guy worked out daily as if his life depended on it.
“What’s up with you and Wes? I can’t ever remember seeing you snap like that before,” Mason said, his voice rattling each time Hamilton’s fist connected to the bag.
Hamilton knew the questions were coming, but he wasn’t ready to discuss that time in his life. A time that had rocked his whole world. A time he wished he could wipe from his memory. A time that had almost cost him his son.
His heart raced and he fought the urge to scream with rage. Instead of responding, he kicked the bag, one long kick after another until his legs felt like limp noodles.
Mason laughed and stepped away from the bag. “Hmm…now I’m really intrigued. You know, as your boss, I could threaten to fire your ass if you don’t come clean.”
“You won’t fire me,” Hamilton breathed, still unable to stop moving, though he did stop the kicks.
Mason pulled one of his gourmet lollipops from his pocket. A big man over six feet tall and two hundred and thirty pounds sucking on a lollipop looked crazy, but Hamilton figured it was better than smoking. Mason had been trying to stop indulging in them for years, especially now that he had a wife and children. After he left the military, the sweet treat had been like a crutch, a source of comfort for him. Now, four years later, he was down to only one a day instead of three.
Hamilton softened his punches against the bag. He and Mason had been friends a long time. He knew it would take a lot more than keeping quiet for Mason to fire him. However, as his boss, his friend deserved an explanation.
“You know, we all have things in our past we’d rather not discuss,” Mason started, “and I respect your privacy, but I have to ask. Will whatever transpired between you and Wesley hinder you from doing your job? Will it bring negative attention to Supreme Security?”
“No,” Hamilton said after a short hesitation. He had vowed years ago when he told the story that took place late in his career with Atlanta PD, that it would be the last time. Yet, he felt obligated to give Mason something.
“You know me better than most. You know my character and what I’m capable of. Let’s just say Wesley, years ago, accused me of something so heinous, I almost got fired from Atlanta PD. Actually, the backlash of what went down had a lot to do with my decision to quit the force.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It was beyond serious. I will never forgive that asshole for what he did. As for his daughter, I don’t know her well and if she’s anything like her father, I want nothing to do with her.”
Mason narrowed his eyes, removed the lollipop from his mouth and pointed it at Hamilton. “I’m usually the cynic. I’m the one who is hard on people whether I know them or not. But this doesn’t sound like you.”
Between the two of them, Hamilton had always been considered the patient and understanding one. But when it came to Wesley, there had been times when Hamilton hadn’t even recognized himself. He behaved out of character every time the guy was around.
“So, what happened between you and Dakota Sherrod?”
That stopped Hamilton, and he placed his hand against the boxing bag to stop it from moving. His head hung low as he struggled to get air into his lungs.
“What do you mean, what happened between her and I? I barely know the woman. Considering who her father is, she’s probably some privileged spoiled liar who takes advantage of people.”
“Maybe, but that’s not how I read her. She seems nothing like Wesley. But that’s beside the point. Her life might be in serious danger, and she’s refusing a bodyguard.”
Hamilton, still breathing hard, grabbed a towel that he had set on a weight bench nearby. Running it over his upper body haphazardly, he dropped it back down on the bench and snatched up his discarded T-shirt.
In the short time he’d known Dakota, he could already tell she had a stubborn streak. As for her refusing a bodyguard, that probably had more to do with her adventurous nature. Maybe she could protect herself, but her ability to leap tall buildings wouldn’t help in a gun fight.
“What does her refusal have to do with me?”
“I doubt it has anything to do with you, but she’s not taking the threats against her father seriously. She seems to be under the impression that it’s just another day in Wesley’s drama-filled world.”
Hamilton cringed each time he heard the man’s name, but the thought of Dakota getting caught up in her father’s mess didn’t sit well with him.
“Do you need me to talk to her? Tell her how important it is to take threats seriously?”
“No. I want you to take the assignment of guarding her, should it come to that. Besides, she said you’re the only person she wants.”
Hamilton’s brows lifted.
“Needless to say, that didn’t go over well with Wes, who refused our services by the way.”
“No surprise there since he has a low opinion of me.”
Mason shrugged. “His loss. I had only offered our services as a favor to my brother, despite knowing what an ass Wes is. Now that I know you and he have a bad history, we won’t be able to work with him.”
Hamilton shook his head. “Just because I won’t work with him doesn’t mean you can’t assign someone else.”
“Nah, I’m done with him. As for Dakota, I figured you must’ve put that famous Crosby charm on her. Clearly you said or did something to make her feel like you’re the shit.” Mason’s mouth twitched as if trying to fight a smile.
Hamilton grunted. Instead of commenting on Mason’s observation, he said, “Do you really think she’s in danger?”
Hamilton took long gulps of water from his water bottle while Mason recapped the brief meeting, including Dakota and Wesley’s disagreement. It sounded like the two didn’t get along well, but that didn’t change his mind about her. He was staying clear. It didn’t matter that she had dominated most of his thoughts since meeting her the other day.
Even as he thought that last part, he couldn’t deny the sizzling connection each time he was in her presence. And maybe he was crazy, but listening to Mason rattle off the threats had Hamilton’s protective instincts kicking in. Could he guard Dakota without letting his attraction to the tempting beauty get in the way?
He hoped he didn’t have to make that decision. If luck was on his side, she’d be right about Wesley’s threats being nothing at all.
“Whether or not she’s really in danger,” Mason continued, “is hard to say. But Wesley seems to think she might be a target. That they might use her to get to him. Hopefully, he's being overprotective, but better safe than sorry. If that is the case, this could be an easy assignment for you. Then again, Dakota is a very beautiful woman. Keeping a professional distance from her might prove to be your hardest assignment to date.”
“I'm always professional.”
“Yeah, you are, but the stuntwoman seems to have a thing for you. You might have your hands full and I mean that literally.”
Hamilton chuckled. “Duly noted, but I don’t think I’m your man.” He didn’t want anything to happen to her, but he’d rather keep his distance and not tempt fate. “We have plenty of others who can guard her. You don’t need me.”
“Well, when Wesley called me earlier this afternoon about his situation, he had mentioned that he wanted the best security specialist we had to protect his daughter. You’re the best.”
Hamilton would admit that he had a lot of experience in security and protection detail, but he wouldn’t kid himself in assuming that he was the best.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Get someone else.”
“Oh, so you’ll think about it. Great,” Mason said, as if not hearing Hamilton. He headed to the door. “I’ll let you go ahead and get cleaned up. Egypt told me to remind you that you have an appointment at four-thirty.”
As the door closed behind his friend, Hamilton glanced at the clock on the wall. He had an hour to get himself together. His workout and the talk with Mason had calmed him some, but it would probably take a stiff drink and a good night’s sleep to help him forget Wesley. And it would take a lot more than that to get Dakota out of his mind.
* * *
Days later, Hamilton approached his assistant’s desk waving a yellow sticky note she had left for him. “Hey, Egypt. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, can you do me a favor?”
“Anything for you.” He balled up the slip of paper and tossed it into the trash can next to her desk.
“You're such a sweetie, but you might change your tune when you find out what I want.”
Hamilton glanced at the jacket she was holding up and shrugged. “What?” And then it dawned on him.
Brown leather.
Dakota.
“Ms. Sherrod left this here the other day. I hadn’t realized it because we haven't used that room since then. Anyway, I told her someone would drop it off before the day was over.”
Hamilton just stared at their assistant, knowing what she was up to. Anyone could have dropped that jacket off, or Dakota could’ve picked it up herself.
Egypt had been trying to fix him up with some of her single friends for the past year, but Hamilton always shot her down. Not that he wasn’t interested in dating, he just hadn't been interested in dating any of her friends. The last thing he needed was for something to go wrong in the relationship, and then their friendship would be trashed.
“Before you say no,” she continued, “I think you owe Ms. Sherrod an apology.”
Hamilton leaned back and frown. “For what?”
“For snapping. I heard you all the way down the hall that day, and then you walked out.”
“Come on, Egypt.” Hamilton moved from the desk, feeling like a kid being reprimanded. “You weren’t in there, and you—”
“Here’s the jacket, her telephone number and address. Go. Oh, and Ham…give her a chance. I like her.”