Nightfire Read Online Free PDF

due to the drinking last night. She stood looking at him, swaying slightly, and for a second he wondered how badly she might be injured. Man, if someone had injured her so badly she could hardly stand, he was going to find out who and quietly, privately, beat the shit out of him.
    “Ms. Mason?” he repeated, keeping his voice gentle.
    She ducked her head. “Yes, of course. I do apologize. I’ve—been under some stress lately.”
    It was the first time he heard her voice. It was as soft as the rest of her, with a musical quality. And a faint British accent.
    She was English? Mike dropped his hand when she sat down, then rounded Harry’s huge desk again.
    She sat perched on the edge of the client chair, one of the most comfortable chairs in the world. By definition, RBK clients were in trouble, and the company wanted them to be comfortable while they talked it out. Chloe Mason didn’t look comfortable in that chair, she looked tense as hell.
    Silence. Harry was still . . . frozen. Goddammit. What the fuck was wrong with him?
    Mike waited a beat, two. Finally, he broke the silence.
    “Ms. Mason. Welcome to RBK Security. My name is Mike Keillor and this is my partner, Harry Bolt.” He shot a glance at the silent statue that was his partner and refrained from rolling his eyes. Had Harry gone back to his pattern of sleeplessness with his little daughter? Was he in a waking coma, or what? “I know you asked for an appointment with Mr. Bolt, but we often work on . . . cases together. Before we begin, can we offer you something, a cup of coffee? Or tea?” Thinking of that accent.
    “Yes, thank you so much.” Her words came out in the rush of loosened tension. “I’d love a cup of tea.”
    Right call.
    Mike waited a second for Harry to move, to wake up, to fucking get with the program. Finally, he pushed the button to Marisa, their receptionist. “Marisa, do you think we could get a cup of tea in here?”
    Ordinarily, Mike wouldn’t ask Marisa to do refreshment detail, but she was the mother hen of their Lost Ones. Marisa’d been a Lost One herself, and had the scars to prove it. She was a fabulous employee, hardworking and loyal. But for the battered women who made their way to the offices of RBK, Marisa went all out. She pampered them and mothered them and protected them fiercely.
    “Yes, sir, right away.”
    The little interlude relaxed Chloe Mason.
    Telling their story was a real ordeal for some women. They were all somehow ashamed, though how they could possibly be ashamed of ending up as someone’s punching bag was beyond Mike. This moment out of time was a respite for Chloe. Her breathing pattern evened out. A little color came back to her pretty face.
    The door to Harry’s office slid open and Marisa walked in with a tray. She’d done them proud. A big teapot, three cups, milk and home-baked cookies brought in by Sam’s wife, Nicole, baked by their housekeeper.
    “Harry.” Mike looked at his brother, barely refraining from poking him in the side with his elbow again. “You want to pour?”
    Harry started slightly, as if he’d actually been asleep and had suddenly woken up. “Sure, ah. Sure.” His gaze locked onto the woman’s face. “How do you take your tea, Ms. Mason?”
    She smiled gently. “Dash of milk, one teaspoon of sugar, thank you.”
    It was the first time Mike had seen her smile. She was clearly under enormous stress, probably terrified, and yet the smile was genuine, blinding. And transformed her face from quietly lovely to otherworldly beauty. A real looker. She didn’t catch your attention the first time or maybe not even the second time, but when she did catch your attention—watch out.
    Mike felt a tug somewhere in his chest he didn’t ever remember feeling, like someone was pulling at a hook.
    They were going to take care of this lovely woman. Keep her safe, take her away from danger.
    And then, well—forget about beating the guy up. Mike was going to find the fuckhead