Mission: Out of Control Read Online Free PDF Page B

did.
    Although Miss Ronyika hadn’t seen anything yet.
    But why was a girl who’d been stalked—in and out of the tabloids—uninterested in having a bodyguard?
    More intrigue.
    He’d kept his distance this week as he conducted his background checks, went over the accommodations—he’d changed them to decent hotels, thank you very much—and scoured the itinerary. If she wanted to be treated like the pop sensation she was becoming, she needed to start thinking about more upscale lodging, venues…perhaps even attire. But he wasn’t touching that.
    He’d conceded, also, to the fact he’d have to involve the rest of the Stryker International crew—Artyom and Luke—if he wanted to prepare for contingencies at the concert venues. Thankfully, the Stryker staff jumped at the work, also bored with their mandatory R & R.
    Now if he could just figure out Vonya’s mind. It was not unlike trying to get a firm grip on Jell-O.
    â€œYou know she did two years in Harvard’s MBA program for international business, right? And can speak four languages? She’s a genius with this stuff.”
    Really? Because how much genius did it take to sing “Your love gives me wings, makes me sing, on a swing”?
    Still, four languages? Could one of those possibly be Klingon?
    â€œI have to admit, she looks like she could just about fly if she wanted to.” He winced, however, at how high she swung. Hopefully the grips would make sure the trapeze was secure, or he would. She might be hard to catch.
    â€œThe wings are her design, as is the swing act. It’ll be a hit.” Tommy patted him on the arm as the director stopped the scene. The recorded music died in the speakers.
    An air-conditioned chill collected in the warehouse, despite the tepid June air outside. Vonya must be freezing in her light blue leotard and tights. However, she seemed the consummate professional, hitting every cue. And, if someone put him under the bright lights, he might even admit that she exuded a sort of Marilyn Monroe beauty that wasn’t completely unlikable.
    Tommy clapped as she finished her song, the stage crew lowering the swing so she could hop off. “But you’re right, no one can pull off the wings like Vonya. We’ll add in the special effects for the video and sweep at this year’s MTV Awards.” He turned to Brody, white teeth showing. “You’re the lucky one—you get to watch her premiere the live act as part of the tour.”
    Oh, yes, lucky him.
    â€œShe won two awards last year, you know. One for a music video, and she was up for best album, too. A real coup for an indie band. But she’s headed toward the big-time—even international stardom with this tour.” Tommy D shook his wrist, checking his diamond-encrusted watch, shiny under the spotlights. “I just hope you’re up to this.”
    Brody raised an eyebrow.
    â€œI mean, the last bodyguard her father hired ended up in the hospital. Heart attack.”
    Really? Brody nearly put his own hand to his chest watching her swing in the air.
    â€œHeart attack, huh?”
    â€œThe first time we were in Zimbala. She had just walked into a refugee camp. Of course, the man spent more time at the craft table than in her shadow, but yes. Heart attack. Could have been much worse.” Tommy patted him again, a habit that just might cause him to lose a hand. “But she’s not on any goodwill trips this tour, so probably you’re okay.”
    â€œGoodwill trip?”
    â€œOh, it’s Ronie’s weakness—she’s got the heart of Mother Theresa. Can’t pass up a child in need. We have to visit every refugee camp, every orphanage. But I told her, no bleeding-heart stunts this time.”
    Yes, he’d read that, but honestly, he thought it more publicity than fact. She intrigued him, this woman of numerous personalities—and, apparently,