Scotland For Christmas Part 15

"Yes, just one real relationship my entire life, and his name is Alex." She closed her fingers around Jacob's card, but he wasn't releasing it to her.

She tugged it gently. "I'm not here to talk about anyone except you."

"Is that so?" He kept his grip on the card.

She struggled with his card some more. "Are all bodyguards so stubborn?"

Jacob let go of the card abruptly, and she had to step back a pace. But he'd let her have it. She smiled at him, clutching his phone number.

He turned and walked away without a word.

"Pick up the phone when I ring you tonight, please," she called after him.

"I'm not taking you out," he said over his shoulder.

"I don't want you to take me out. My conditions are that we meet in a group. I need to be safe and check you out first, and that means evaluating you by your friends, in the safety of a group setting."

He stopped cold, gaping at her. His mouth was left hanging open, but she turned on her heel without reply.

Jacob had started this. He'd gone into that loo and met her uncle. Now her uncle wanted to see him in Edinburgh for Christmas dinner. She was just doing her due diligence.

JACOB GOT BACK into the SUV and held up his palm before Eddie could say a word. "Don't start."

"You didn't tell me she was smokin' hot," Eddie said.

"I forbid you to look at her."

"She's hot for you, not me. Besides, I'm not looking at anybody." Eddie put the gear into Drive.

Jacob groaned and leaned his head against the seat back.

Eddie laughed as they pulled into traffic. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jacob muttered.

"Uh-huh. She has no idea why you took that job driving her to Vermont, does she?"

Jacob sighed. "Nope."

"You are an idiot, my friend."

Jacob raised his head. "If I tell her the truth, she's gone. If she's gone, then I've lost contact with John Sage, the one guy who can give me the information I need."

"Well, Jake, you won't be dating Isabel for long if you don't tell her the truth about it."

"I'm not dating her, dammit!" Jacob leaned his head back again. "She wants to go out with my friends in a group."

Eddie cracked a smile. "Perfect. I'll call Donna. She lives for this kind of thing."

"Do not make a big deal of it," Jacob insisted.

"Why are you so ruffled?"

Should he tell Eddie? "You haven't heard the worst of it." Jacob slapped his hand on the dash. "Sage wants me to investigate her in exchange for talking to me."

Eddie was silent. "You gotta tell her, man, because she's gonna find out at some point."

Yeah. Yeah, Jacob knew that. But he couldn't do it just yet. He needed to figure out what his plan really was. There had to be a way out of this so that both he and Isabel each got what they wanted.

And she didn't get hurt.

IN THE OFFICE later that morning, Jacob knew he had to go and tell his grizzled, old-school manager, Tony Marshall-just a year away from retirement and therefore very interested in following protocol-that he was doing...what exactly?...with Isabel Sage.

And the reason Jacob had to report his involvement with her was because, technically, Isabel was a foreign national. Jacob's government security clearance was due to be renewed soon, and since he already had major problems with his employee file, he wanted to be sure to head off any other issues.

He was still scratching his head over exactly how to handle his dilemma with Isabel when he got back to his desk, only to find that Eddie and the gang were running Isabel's info through their litany of investigative databases.

Oh, h.e.l.l, no, he was going to say to them, but then he paused. He leaned over the computer screen. This was just basic stuff they were checking into. Everyday due diligence. If done properly, it could satisfy part of what John Sage had asked, but...did Jacob really want to go down this road?

If he wanted to exchange info with John Sage-and he wasn't sure he did-it would probably be best to have something, even a basic sh.e.l.l of nonincriminating "evidence," to show.

For example, did Isabel even have any contacts with magazine or tabloid editors? Jacob thought back. Her suite mates were journalists, weren't they? Maybe there was a connection there.

No, Jacob did not want to investigate her suite mates, too.

He pushed his hands through his hair. While he was still contemplating his role in the whole d.a.m.n thing, he got called into Tony's office.

"I talked with Diane," Tony said.

The department psychologist. Great, Jacob thought.

"She mentioned a reminder about scheduling a follow-up appointment with her. She wants you to set it up ASAP."

Jacob had been working on the paperwork she'd left him with. It had just seemed humiliating considering he was the only person he knew who was required to go through her extra scrutiny. Diane had also wanted him to meet with her every week for an "a.s.sessment," but he'd wanted to get his ducks in a row with Sage before he met with her again.

Maybe he should be worried, though. "Why ASAP? What's happened?"

Tony shook his head. He wasn't meeting Jacob's eyes, and that wasn't a good sign.

"Just get it cleared up, Jake. You need her authorization before you can go on to your next a.s.signment. My endors.e.m.e.nt isn't enough."

"Okay," he said carefully. "You should know that I, ah, need time off to go to Scotland over Christmas. Diane's asking me a lot of questions about, ah, people and events there."

"Good." Tony nodded. "Get it done. Go now, if you'd rather not wait."

Without Isabel? Other than getting to Sage through her, he didn't see how. What else would he do, crash a heavily fortified corporate-headquarters building in downtown Edinburgh and waylay the guy as he left Sage Family Products one evening?

Yeah, right. Even if he avoided being arrested by the local police, he'd know that Isabel would hate him forever because he would've screwed her reputation with her uncle, too.

He never should have kissed her to begin with.

As soon he was back at his desk, Jacob picked up the phone and made his appointment with Diane, dragging out the unfinished paperwork as he did so. Then, as he sat in his mental purgatory over what to do about Isabel, he fiddled with his credit-card-fraud case, which included going out with Eddie and conducting an interview.

Even then, Isabel slipped into his thoughts. He was being driven crazy. He would see a blonde walk past on the street, and he was immediately turning to check if it was her. The whole situation was nuts.

After lunch, Eddie called Jacob over to his desk. Three of the guys from the Counter a.s.sault Team were huddled around Eddie's screen, chortling. Eddie had brought up a photo of Isabel with Alex, in evening dress. The kicker was they were accompanying some of the royal family at a charity event in London.

Jacob felt two inches high. "Turn that d.a.m.n thing off," he snapped.

"These are the kinds of people she's used to socializing with. Jake, you can't be a schmuck to her."

"She must be slumming with you," one of the CAT guys said.

Jacob walked away. This sucked. It was a mess.

But nothing was as bad as the kick in the gut when Tony came out of his office to address them directly. It was the coup de grce.

"Listen up, people. The call came in. We have some transfers to announce. I'm just gonna do it now rather than prolong the agony."

Jacob got a very bad feeling.

"Eddie, you're going to Washington, D.C."

Jacob sat and waited for his name to be announced, too, but the announcement didn't come. Jacob's longtime pal had been chosen for the Presidential Protective Division, not him.

The irony was, Eddie had only quit the NYPD and moved over to the Secret Service because of Jacob. Presidential Protective Division hadn't been his dream the way it had been for Jacob.

Jacob felt as if a freight train had run him over. But he went through the motions, giving his congratulations to his best friend. Eddie was over the moon because Donna really wanted to move back to the Washington, D.C. area.

Afterward, Jacob sat at his desk in front of the doc.u.ments for the fraud case he'd been a.s.signed to investigate-not even a particularly interesting scam at that-and he put his head in his hands.

Eddie strolled over to his desk. "I'll do what I can to get you down there with me, pal."

"Thanks." Jacob closed his laptop and stood. "Go out and celebrate," he said, suddenly feeling tired. "You and Donna deserve it."

"Funny you should say that. Donna is planning something special for all of us to celebrate tomorrow night."

By the tone of Eddie's voice, Jacob was sure the event involved Isabel, as well. Great, he had a splitting headache already.

He leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll call her. That's what you want me to do, isn't it?"

"You really like her, Jacob, you know you do."

His problems were bigger than that. It was painfully apparent that Jacob needed to get serious. He couldn't stay in the New York field office, stagnant and alone. His goal always had been to work on a presidential protective detail. That's where he needed to be. That's where he needed to focus his efforts, even if it involved interacting with Isabel for the next five weeks until she left for Christmas break.

If he didn't go home with her to see her uncle, then he was left doing financial fraud investigations, or the occasional small-time diplomatic-bodyguard a.s.signment while Eddie worked the job Jacob wanted. This standoff with Isabel had to stop.

Bottom line, it looked as if he was going to Scotland for Christmas with her.

And investigating the h.e.l.l out of her until then.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

ISABEL DIDN'T HEAR from Jacob, and she didn't call him, either. She did, however, receive a phone call from Donna Walsh-Eddie's wife-with an invitation to a get-together on Friday night. Isabel accepted for one reason: to check out Jacob. It would also be fun to keep him on his toes.

When the day came, Isabel wrapped up the afternoon session where she'd been playing tour guide to a visiting university speaker who was also a friend of her uncle's. She raced home from campus and took a shower, then dressed in a short blue dress with trendy tights and her favorite tall zip-up boots. She dried her hair, applied her makeup and put on some fun, artsy jewelry and a leather jacket.

"Are you sure you don't need me to walk with you?" Rajesh asked as she headed for the lift outside her residence suite.

"No, thank you, I'd like to walk to the subway station myself. It's only three blocks away."

"Once you're inside, remember to choose the Downtown platform," Rajesh instructed. "Not Uptown. Downtown. And count the stops."

"I'll remember. Thank you, Rajesh."

"You have my number in your phone. Call me if you need a.s.sistance."

Philip snickered at her. Yes, Isabel had actually been in New York City for all this time, and she'd never before ridden the busy city subway system.

Since she'd met Jacob, it seemed, she'd been stretched far out of her usual sphere of habit.

"Go, Braveheart," Rajesh whispered. "Freedom," he added with a fist pump, as the lift doors closed between them.

Rajesh's instructions were good and Isabel easily merged with the flow of the crowd to ride the rattling subway car to the station one block from the address Donna had given her.

Actually, Isabel was having fun already. She had one major purpose tonight, and that was to question the women in the group about Jacob's character.

The night was cool and the street was lit so brightly there were hardly any shadows to threaten her. Shifting her shoulder bag beneath her arm, she pushed open the doors to the venue where the party was to be held.

The impromptu celebration for Eddie's promotion was held in a private room above a midtown Manhattan bar, with bra.s.s railings and sh.e.l.lacked wood and mirrors with rows of bottles in front.

The jostling, talkative crowd packed inside the main floor reminded Isabel of the traditional bar haunts near Edinburgh Castle. For a moment, she felt homesick, but then remembered she only needed to last a few more weeks in New York before she would be flying home.

Inside the pub, she climbed the creaking, winding staircase to a function room with high ceilings and a smaller, separate bar area.

"You must be Isabel," said a woman with an infant in her arms. She followed Isabel's gaze to the baby's sweet face and said, "Sorry, I couldn't get my usual sitter for him."

"He's precious," Isabel cooed.