Taming the Lone Wolff(4)

                When she returned to his side, she laid a piece of paper on the table at his elbow. His jaw dropped. Though his own personal financial portfolio was in the high seven-figure range (and that was not counting the portion of Wolff Enterprises that would be his in the future), it wasn’t every day that someone tossed a check at him for half a million dollars. Though Winnie had signed the document, the pay to line was blank.

                He picked it up gingerly. “What’s this?”

                She sat back down, this time crossing her legs and kicking one foot lazily. “That should cover everything I need from you. But I have to know that I am buying your utmost discretion. Nothing you learn about me or my estate can be shared.”

                There it was again, that tingling Spidey sense. He dropped the check. “I’m not a priest, a doctor, a shrink or, thank God, a lawyer,” he said gruffly. “If you’re involved in something illegal, I’ll go straight to the police. You can buy my loyalty and discretion, but not a blind eye. Sorry.”

                She blinked, her pale lashes only a shade darker than her hair. “Wow. You shoot from the hip, don’t you?”

                “I won’t take your money under false pretenses.”

                * * *

                Winnie was not threatened by Larkin Wolff’s displeasure. Instead, she was fascinated. When it was his turn to stand and prowl, she studied him. He was built like a baseball player, long and lean and athletic. Though his looks were pleasing, he wouldn’t be called handsome. There was too much of a permanent frown line between his eyebrows and an unmistakable bump on the bridge of his nose that indicated a past break.

                His eyes were a shade of steel-blue that could burn or chill given his mood. The man’s body was a walking testament to working out, his biceps flexing beneath a thin dress T-shirt. He had removed a navy sport coat, and clad only in the oatmeal-colored knit, he looked powerful and intensely masculine. His short wiry hair was mostly black with a few strands of premature gray.

                She knew from her files that he was barely thirty. But his visage and demeanor made him seem much older. “Sit down, Larkin. I can assure you that I am a law-abiding citizen.” She was shocked to hear herself ordering him around—shocked even more when he obeyed.

                His gaze locked with hers in unspoken challenge.

                She sighed. “Since that article came out, I have been inundated with phone calls, packages and more than a few unwanted visitors. At one point, we even had to call in the bomb squad. Fortunately, it was a false alarm, but I can’t endanger my staff’s safety and well-being. I’ve received no less than six proposals of marriage, one of those from a convicted sex offender serving prison time. My personal email account was hacked last week, and the perpetrator sent pornographic images to everyone in my contact list. This has to stop…and soon.”

                Larkin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I can take care of all of that for a fraction of your big check. Why so urgent? What aren’t you telling me? Stuff like this blows over in a matter of weeks. New gossip arrives, fresh meat scents the air. In a month or two, I’m pretty sure you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

                Swallowing the lump in her throat, she clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. “Even if I am overreacting, I have the right to hire you and ask for certain things…correct?”

                There was that scowl again. “Of course you do. But part of my job is to advise you. And throwing away your money isn’t necessary.”

                “I won’t be throwing away a cent,” she said, her throat raw with emotion. “For starters, I need you to do the obvious. Install whatever we need to guard our perimeter. And I want you to contract your people to be on duty 24/7 for an indefinite period of time.”