Sealed with a Kiss by Leeanna Morgan (microsoft ebook reader txt) 📖

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He picked up a pen and signed the contract. “Make sure this leaves here today. I don’t want it getting into the wrong hands.”

Tank slid the document into a brown envelope. “It’s safe with me.”

John didn’t believe anything was safe. He’d learned a long time ago to listen to his instincts, and his instincts were screaming at him to be careful. “Take Connor with you. He knows his way around the Pentagon.”

Tank didn’t bother saying anything. The look he sent him said it all.

“And don’t spend too much time in Virginia. I’ve got another job for you.”

Tank grunted. “Middle East or Europe?”

“Neither. Texas. A senator needs an escort to New York in three days’ time.”

“I’ll call you when I get back. Try and get some sleep tonight.”

Tank left and John sat back in his chair. He turned toward his first-floor window and looked across the garden.

Fletcher Security was based in an historic building on the outskirts of town. It had been built in the 1860s as Montana’s first flour mill. When he’d bought the property, it was derelict and in serious need of repair. Over the following two years, he’d rebuilt most of the interior, keeping as much of the character as he could, and recreating the rest.

No one seeing the red-brick building would know what went on inside the property. He provided high-risk security services for clients around the world. He’d gathered together an elite group of men and women, mostly ex-military, all dedicated to their roles in his company. Their list of clients, past and present, was impressive.

John didn’t advertise—he didn’t need to. Word of mouth traveled faster than an ad in the New York Times. The uber-rich of the world knew how to find him. What most people didn’t know was the other side of his business. The side that had been giving him sleepless nights for the last few weeks.

Developing state-of-the-art surveillance software was a side product of what they did. Out of necessity, they’d had to look at other ways of keeping track of their clients and their property. When Samantha Jones joined his company, she’d quickly slipped into the role of Technical Development Manager. She had a PhD in electrical engineering from one of the most prestigious universities in the world and a mind that was never content with the word ‘no’.

Sam pushed the limits of whatever project she was working on, and the drone was no exception.

The phone on his desk rang and John reluctantly answered it. He’d told his secretary not to put any calls through unless they were urgent. Apart from World War III breaking out or anything to do with his daughter, he was hoping to have a few hours to work on another project.

“What is it, Gloria?”

“Sorry to bother you, but a Rachel McReedy is here to see you. It’s about Bella.”

The hair on the back of John’s neck stood on end. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know.”

He ran through Bella’s schedule for the day. She’d still be at home. Her ballet class didn’t start for another hour and the people looking after her would have contacted him if something was wrong. He’d made sure that nothing concerning his daughter turned into a life or death situation. Ever.

He glanced at the folders on his desk. “Send her through, but warn her that I don’t have a lot of time.”

He walked toward his office door. Whatever his visitor had to say would have to be quick. He had a project plan to work through and clients he needed to contact.

If he finished early, he’d meet Bella at her ballet class. Tutus and pink tights had to be better than worrying about surveillance drones. And a lot less dangerous, too.

Rachel jumped as the big wooden door in front of her opened. Apart from dark hair, the man walking toward her didn’t look anything like Bella. The little girl she’d met had big brown eyes, olive skin and mahogany curls.

She wondered if she’d found the right person. The form she’d seen had definitely been signed by a John Fletcher. There was only one John Fletcher living in Bozeman, and he was standing in front of her.

“Hello, Mr. Fletcher. My name is Rachel McReedy. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

His cool blue eyes held her gaze as he shook her hand. “I’ve got a conference call in five minutes.”

Rachel nodded. Five minutes was better than nothing. For the last few days she’d been trying to make an appointment to see him. The staff at his home had told her he wasn’t available and she couldn’t get through to his secretary. Out of desperation, she’d driven to Fletcher Security’s head office, hoping he’d be able to see her. With only three days left before Annie’s wedding, she was on her own.

John Fletcher held his door open. “Come in.”

She tightened her hold on her bag and moved into his office. “Thank you for seeing me.”

He closed the door and pointed at a chair in front of his desk. “You’re welcome. What exactly did you want to discuss with me, Ms. McReedy?”

“Rachel…you can call me Rachel.”

He sat down and looked closely at her. She wished she’d worn something a little more business-like. Her ‘Welcome to Hawaii’ T-shirt didn’t exactly make her feel confident. She’d pulled it on after she’d been splattered with paint by an over-excited student. But she wasn’t here to make a good impression. She was here to help Bella’s dad understand his daughter a little better.

She cleared her throat and unzipped her bag. “I’m a teacher at Bozeman Elementary School. Your daughter, Bella, spent time with my class last week.”

“Was there a problem?”

Rachel shook her head. “Bella is a wonderful little girl. I enjoyed working with her.”

“Why are you here, then?”

Rachel wondered if the frown plastered across his face was permanent. He didn’t seem like the type of person who smiled a lot. He was completely different from the bubbly, happy, little girl who had visited her school.

“Ms. McReedy?”

She blinked and yanked her mind back to the man sitting in front of her. “Sorry.” She took Bella’s envelope out of her bag. “As well as teaching at Bozeman Elementary School, I help a group of friends who’ve started The Bridesmaids Club. Have you heard of us?”

John Fletcher was beginning to look irritated. “No. I can’t say that I have.”

“We’re sent pre-loved bridesmaids’ dresses from all over the country. Women who need dresses contact us and take them for their own weddings. Everything is free. It’s really rewarding making people’s dreams come true.”

Rachel smiled and John’s frown deepened. She wouldn’t let his grumpiness distract her from what she had to tell him. “About a year ago, The Bridesmaids Club received a letter from a little girl. My friends tried to find her, but they didn’t have much luck.”

“And you think this letter was written by my daughter?”

“It was signed by someone called Bella.”

“You’ve got the wrong person. I can assure you that Bella doesn’t need a bridesmaid’s dress.”

“It wasn’t a dress that she wanted.”

John’s gaze sharpened. “What did she want?”

Rachel had thought long and hard about how she’d break the news to Bella’s dad. She could be incredibly diplomatic when she needed to be, but John Fletcher didn’t seem to have a lot of time for diplomacy. So instead of repeating the words she’d decided to use, she passed him Bella’s envelope.

“It might be better if you read the card yourself.”

John took the envelope out of her hand. He looked at the picture on the outside, then glanced back at her.

She didn’t look down.

He pulled out the card and read the message. “My daughter wants me to get married?”

Rachel had a feeling that the chance of that happening was practically zilch. He might be handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy sort of way, but his personality needed work.

She glanced at the card. It was a whole lot easier than looking into his surprised eyes. “Or she could want a mom. She might be lonely.”

John’s face hardened. “I can assure you, Ms. McReedy, that my daughter isn’t lonely.”

Coming here was a big mistake. “In that case, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Thank you for seeing me. I’m sorry I kept you from your phone call.”

John’s scowl relaxed into an annoyed frown. “Anything to do with my daughter comes before my work.”

“That’s good to know.” Rachel plastered a polite smile on her face and left his office. At least she could tell her friends that Bella was no longer their mystery girl. It was just a pity that John Fletcher didn’t share his daughter’s personality. If Bella was unhappy, there was nothing she could do about it.

Not today, anyway.