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He performed a sweep of both bedrooms and the bathroom, then returned to the door where Danny waited with Nathalie. “Clear.”
“Excuse me.” Nathalie fumbled with the Velcro straps of her bulletproof vest as she brushed past both men and retreated to the bathroom.
“Here.” Danny delved into the rucksack and pulled out a gray t-shirt. He held it up with a grin. Printed in dark blue ink was the trident emblem and the wordsUS Navy SEALs. “Nathalie can sleep in this.”
Ryder didn’t like the idea of Nathalie sleeping in another man’s shirt, but he allowed a brief smile to curve his lips. “Thanks. Even if it’s for a second-rate military unit.”
Danny barked out a laugh, then sobered. He stole a quick glance at the closed bathroom door and lowered his voice. “The shooter wasn’t aiming at Nathalie. I think this guy’s pissed she’s got security. He should have been long gone once he got what he wanted from Williams.”
Ryder agreed. He pictured the photograph Danny snapped of the man who’d tailed them last night.
Who are you?
Taking a shot at him was an unprofessional and reckless move for someone engaged in industrial espionage.
It felt personal now.
This job was starting to piss him off.
Just when he thought he’d gotten what he’d come for, the bloody Indian software designer admitted the program wouldn’t work because Nathalie Williams kept part of the code in her head.
He slammed the steering wheel. The pain didn’t lessen his frustration.
The news might have made him hit the bloke harder on the head than he’d intended. Chaudhary was alive, at least. He’d watched as they carried the guy off to hospital.
No need to start killing. Yet.
He needed to get his hands on Nathalie Williams.
Which meant he needed to get rid of her bodyguard.
He could see how protective Montague was with the woman, and there was nothing professional about the look on the bloke’s face.
When this was over, Lachlan Mackay would have to sack his golden boy for failing to protect his client.
And for fucking her.
The thought made him smile a little. What would Clark Kent do if his reputation as a protector ended up in tatters?
The smile faded. Probably go back and work at his family’s company. Marry a pretty, posh British girl. End up with a fancy title.
Be none the worse for wear in the end.
As for him, he’d busted his bollocks for everything, and what had he gotten? Shite pay and nightmares. Skills that were unseemly in the civilian world.
He’d tried to get a job with the security firm run by Mason Winters, but they turned him down.
Instead of a job offer, he got a recommendation for a counselor who dealt with combat veterans suffering from PTSD.
Fuck that.
His current employer only cared that he had the skills to do the job.
Soon he’d have enough money to do what he pleased.
Maybehe’dstart his own security firm. Plenty of his mates were having trouble adjusting to civilian life.
The smile returned, creasing his face. The shot he’d taken at Montague had been a wee bit of fun. Just a graze. Like the gift he’d left for him.