“Do I need to come round there and punch you in the mouth in order to gain your full attention?” Max bit out from between clenched teeth.

  Darius was seated in the chair facing his brother across the mahogany desk in Max’s office at Kingston Security. His brother was head of the company, since Sinclair stepped down from that role five years ago for personal reasons.

  The six Kingston brothers and their cousin had equal ownership of the company, but being the arrogant arseholes they all were, it would be complete chaos if they all tried to be in charge at the same time.

  Consequently, Darius was here to receive intel from Max on his next protection assignment. But if questioned on the subject, he knew that, as Max had accused, he had no fucking clue who or what that was.

  “You could try,” Darius rasped as he sat up straighter. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  Max scowled. “The client needs your full attention.”

  He nodded. “Which is why you need to hand their protection off to someone else.”

  His brother’s expression softened. “Are things that bad for you right now?”

  The question told Darius he obviously didn’t hide the darkness of his moods as well as he’d thought he did. “Things are no worse than they usually are.” In fact, they’d felt slightly better the past twenty hours or so.

  Since Honey had pressed her trusting warmth against his leg early yesterday evening?

  Maybe.

  Or maybe it was Mia, the bright-eyed pixie—yes, he was still calling her that in his thoughts, and he’d thought about her a lot since they’d parted yesterday—who had calmed the frustration and anger constantly raging inside him.

  All Darius knew for certain about Mia was the information he’d been given this morning when he’d question the two security men manning the desk in the reception area of the apartment building. It included her name—which he already knew—and that she had security clearance from one of the other tenants to come and go to their apartment in the early morning and evening.

  The knowing expressions on the men’s faces when they imparted that information had told Darius they’d decided Mia Smith had to be some sort of sex worker.

  An assumption that made him want to have both of them removed from his building.

  The men denied all knowledge of being aware there was a dog living in any of the apartments.

  The lazy bastards needed a kick up the arse, and if they’d been employed by Kingston Security, Darius would have taken great pleasure in administering that kick himself. Right out the door.

  But when Darius had bought the building five years ago, it’d already had security in place, under contract from Wynter Security, another large family-owned firm in London. In fact, they often vied for the same contracts.

  Darius had decided to leave things as is, rather than muddy the water by taking manpower from Kingston Security to protect his building.

  But if this was the level of security Wynter Security provided, then Darius needed to rethink keeping his contract with them. In fact, he’d made an appointment later this morning to discuss the matter with Rufus Wynter, the head of the company. By the time he left the other man’s office, those two security men would definitely no longer be working in Darius’s building.

  “You seem more distracted today than you usually are.” Max voiced his concern.

  He shrugged. “I have some personal business I’m dealing with right now.”

  “Really?” Max leaned back in his high-backed leather chair to study him through narrowed lids. “My God, I recognize that bemused expression on your face,” he observed slightly incredulously. “There’s a woman involved in this personal business.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Darius scowled, knowing the reason for Max’s incredulity. “You know I don’t do relationships.”

  “Any more than I did. Or Adam. Or Sinclair. Or Malachi, for that matter.” Max chuckled. “Believe me, the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t give a shite whether you’re in agreement with it or ready to bring that turmoil into your life.”

  Just because three of his brothers, along with their cousin, had all married during the past year, didn’t mean that Darius was going to do the same.

  Then why had a pair of mischievous green-and-turquoise eyes occupied his thoughts yesterday evening and haunted his dreams all the previous night?

  Because he hated a mystery, Darius inwardly defended. And with those parting comments that she didn’t live in the apartment building and Honey wasn’t her dog, that’s exactly what Mia Smith had become.

  He’d tried to find a profile of her online or on social media, but there was no information on her on the former and the list of Mia Smiths on social media had been endless. Even putting in London as her place of residence hadn’t helped. Nevertheless, Darius had wasted another half an hour checking those women out before deciding none of them were her.

  What twenty-year-old didn’t have a personal social media presence?

  One who had something to hide, came the obvious answer.

  But not an answer that seemed to be a good fit with the openness and lack of guile he’d seen in Mia’s expression and behavior.

  Damn it, he was the last person to be any sort of judge when it came to discerning whether openness and lack of guile were genuine, and he had the scars to prove it.

  It seemed he would have to talk to his brother Casper, the tech genius in the family, if he wanted to find out more about Mia.

  Which, he realized with a wince, he still did.

  Except he was reluctant to ask Casper to help him with that.

  Oh, he had no doubt that if he asked, his youngest brother would be able to find out what Mia’s weekly food shop consisted of and how much it cost. The problem with asking Casper for help was that Darius would then have to explain to him why he wanted that information.

  Besides, he didn’t want to appear to go full-on stalker where Mia was concerned. Even if not knowing any more about her than he did was driving him insane.

  “Fuck it.” He stood abruptly. “Give the assignment to someone else. I’m going to be busy with stuff of my own for the rest of the day.”

  “Fair enough.” Max nodded. “If you need any of us…”

  “I know where you are,” he acknowledged dryly.

  “…or the wives,” Max continued ruefully. “They’re all much better at this love and emotional stuff than we are.”

  Much as Darius loved his cousin-in-law, Cara, and his three sisters-in-law, Rosie, Remy, and Lara, he had never once thought of discussing his personal life with any of them.

  Probably because, until now, he hadn’t had one.

  He wasn’t sure what he had right now, only that Mia intrigued him as no other woman ever had. As a consequence, he wanted to know more about her.

  Damn it, he would know more about her!

  But first, he had an appointment to keep with Rufus Wynter.

  Mia couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Very Handsome from yesterday. Darius Kingston, as she now knew his name to be.

  Because, once she’d ascertained exactly who owned the apartment building, she’d looked him up online.

  She now knew not only his name, but his age of thirty-six, and that he’d spent eight years in the military before founding Kingston Security with several members of his family. What he’d done, or his rank, during those years in the army or when he left, wasn’t mentioned. He hadn’t reenlisted at the end of those eight years, and he and his brothers and a cousin had instead pooled their abilities and started up Kingston Security. It was now reputed to be one of the most prestigious security companies in the world.

  She also knew from the description of Darius on the Kingston Security website that he had a twin, Felix, but apart from both having dark hair, the brothers looked nothing alike. Darius’s brief bio didn’t mention a wife or a long-term relationship.

  In fact, there had been no information at all on his personal life.

  Probably because, from what Mia had read, he didn’t have one. Darius seemed to spend his time working for the family-owned company, and his down time at his London apartment or the family’s gated estate in Surrey.

  How could a man who looked like he did not have a social life? One that included a line of women waiting for the opportunity to climb into bed with him? Either the bed in London or the one in Surrey.

  The fact that he had two beds, one in a luxury London penthouse apartment he owned, and the other at what looked to be a large family estate in the country, was enough indication that Darius was waaay out of Mia’s league.

  Even if she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

  Or imagining what it would be like to be held in those strong and muscular arms.

  To be kissed by those firm and chiseled lips.

  Or how hot it would be to be desired by a man who was so focused, she didn’t have a single doubt that he would channel all of his considerable attention on ensuring any physical pleasure was mutual.

  A quiver of sexual awareness shivered down Mia’s spine and warmed between her thighs just thinking about doing any of those things with such a darkly intense man.

  Which was surprising, considering she had never thought about any man that way before Darius Kingston.

  Having no idea what her true background was, after being abandoned inside a church in St. Austell in Cornwall as a baby, she had always been wary of becoming involved in an intimate relationship. She’d been out on several dates, but always ended the friendship when the guy hinted that he wanted more from her than a few good-night kisses.

  Which made it all the harder to believe she was a twenty-year-old virgin having sexual fantasies about an older man who was so intense, just thinking about him made her nipples tingle and between her thighs hot!

  “You liked him too, didn’t you, girl,” she defended as she patted Honey on the side of the neck.

  The two of them were walking back from the park after their morning outing.

  “Obviously not in the way I do,” Mia added self-derisively. “But you definitely liked him.”

  Honey looked up at her with warm and intelligent brown eyes, as if she knew exactly what Mia was saying and wholeheartedly agreed with the statement.

  “We’d better get you back home.” It was a little before nine thirty, and Mia’s first class was at ten. “Or I’m going to be late to uni.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Good to see you again,” Rufus Wynter greeted as he stood from behind his wide mahogany desk to shake Darius’s hand.

  The other man was probably aged in his early forties, with shrewd eyes so pale in color, it was difficult to know if they were gray or a very pale green. His dark hair was liberally sprinkled with gray at the temples. He wore a formal three-piece suit that had obviously been expertly tailored to his tall and muscular frame.

  “How’s the family?” Rufus prompted politely as he resumed his seat. “I believe Sinclair recently remarried?”

  Darius remained standing. “The rest of the family is fine. And yes, Sinclair remarried six months ago. He and Remy are expecting their first baby in a few months.”

  Rufus nodded abruptly. “I’m pleased for him.” A nerve pulsed briefly in the other man’s jaw before being brought sternly back under his control.

  Darius didn’t know all the details, but he knew that Rufus had once been married with a child, but that his wife and that child had both perished in a car accident years ago.

  Darius couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt—still feel?—like. He did know that Rufus, despite being attractive and very wealthy, had never remarried.

  He would also take a guess that the photograph on Rufus’s desk, turned toward him so that it wasn’t visible to anyone seated opposite him, was of his deceased wife and child.

  “I was…concerned when my secretary told me you’d telephoned here shortly after nine o’clock this morning and insisted on having an appointment to see me today.” Rufus spoke before Darius had a chance to do so. “I immediately made inquiries of the men I have on duty at your building as to why you might feel the need to come and see me so urgently.”

  Darius snorted. “I’m guessing from your expression they told you.”

  The other man’s jaw tightened. “I want to offer you my sincere apologies for the shoddy service of my twenty-four-seven security team working in your building.” He scowled his displeasure. “The six men responsible have had their employment with us terminated.” He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “Another team took over fifteen minutes ago. But if you feel that’s too little too late and you want to use your own men in future, we’ll just tear up the contract between us, hopefully with no hard feelings.”

  “You’re very efficient,” Darius said appreciatively.

  Rufus’s mouth twisted ruefully. “Unfortunately, my men weren’t, which is why we have this current situation. As part of my apology, please accept this.” He pushed a file across the desktop.

  A file with the heading “Mia Smith” on the front cover.

  Darius’s eyes narrowed. “You had Mia Smith investigated?” Even the thought of this man not only delving into Mia’s private life, but also knowing more about her than Darius did, annoyed him intensely.

  The other man shrugged. “Belatedly, yes. It’s the routine security check that should have been done before anyone was allowed to regularly go anywhere unaccompanied inside your apartment building.” He scowled. “Miss Smith seems to have been coming and going to a particular apartment for the past month, purely on the say-so of the tenant.” He opened the file. “One Giles Fletcher, who has an apartment on the eleventh floor. Mr. Fletcher, when questioned early this morning, claims she’s a paid dog walker and has been walking a dog for him every morning and evening for the past month.”

  That was already more than Darius knew about her. “And is she? Just walking the dog,” he added when Rufus raised an inquiring brow.

  Rufus nodded. “A dog that shouldn’t be resident in the building.” He shrugged. “I think you’ll find the file on Miss Smith quite interesting.”

  “Oh?” Darius tried to sound only mildly curious, but knew he’d failed when the other man gave him a knowing glance.

  “Mia Smith doesn’t have, and has never had, a driving license or a passport. There’s no photograph of her on her offered dog-walking service online. The header is of happy-looking dogs running about a park. The only recent photograph we could find of her on file was the one on her student card. It’s grainy at best. I doubt even her mother would be able to recognize her from it. If she had a mother, which apparently, she doesn’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Darius demanded.

  Rufus nodded toward the file. “What we have is all in there. You can make your own decision, on both Miss Smith and the dog situation, after you’ve read it. I understand the dog’s previous owner, a Gloria Fletcher, died recently, and that her son, your tenant, has been left with a dog he doesn’t know what to do with, but is reluctant to give away or have put down because of a request in his mother’s will that he not do so.”

  Darius knew about the death of the dog’s previous owner. Also, the security men this morning had confirmed that it was Giles Fletcher who had given Mia Smith permission to come in and out of the building morning and night. But those men had misjudged completely the reason for her doing so.

  How much more than he’d already told him had Rufus managed to find out about Mia in the short time he’d had since Darius’s phone call this morning? The file looked thin, but there were still at least a dozen pieces of paper inside.

  Much as Darius wanted to know what those pieces of paper said, wouldn’t his reading them be a gross intrusion on Mia’s privacy?

  Hell, yes, but no more so than his own efforts last night to find out more about her.

  It was curious, though, that besides having no personal online presence, she also had no passport or driving license.

  The two security men who should have been on the reception desk in the lobby of the apartment building were, as was usually the case, missing when Mia returned with Honey. They seemed to spend most of their time sitting in the private room behind the desk, giving the appearance of watching the security camera feeds throughout the building. Except Mia was pretty sure she’d heard the sound of daytime television playing more often than not.

  Honey’s paws had the usual trouble navigating the marble floor of the reception area, but thankfully, there was a carpet in the elevator. The hallway on the eleventh floor where Honey’s owner lived was also carpeted.

  Temporary owner, Mia reminded herself, because she was pretty sure Darius Kingston was going to point out to Mr. Fletcher, sooner rather than later, that he was in violation of his tenant contract by having a dog in his apartment. No doubt Darius would give the other man the choice to either remove Honey from the building, or he would insist, as he had instructed Mia when he thought Honey was hers, that both the dog and Giles Fletcher find somewhere else to live.

  Giles Fletcher was single, probably aged thirty-fiveish, moderately handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was also gay and had told Mia he had no real interest in keeping Honey, as her presence interfered with his private life. Apparently, he’d only taken custody of the dog because he hadn’t known what else to do with her after his mother’s recent death. Those circumstances probably meant that once he got over the shock of losing his mother, he would choose to remain living in his apartment and Honey would end up in an animal shelter.

  Which made Mia sad. Not because she would no longer be paid to walk Honey, but because she’d become genuinely fond of the Golden Labrador. She knew she wasn’t supposed to let her emotions rule her head—God knows she should be well aware of that after the years of emotional barrenness she’d spent in the orphanage—but there was just something so endearing about Honey.