His head was
pounding. Too much Jack Daniels last night. When Ben Slocum pulled
his big black SUV into the driveway in front of his garage, the only
thing on his mind was getting a couple hours of sleep.
Reaching up to hit the garage door opener on his visor, his gaze
swung to the porch and he spotted a woman in a conservative yellow
business suit, rapping on his door.
Still dressed in the black tuxedo he’d been wearing last night, Ben
shoved the Denali into park and turned off the engine, cracked open
the door and slid out from behind the wheel. His slacks were
wrinkled, his white pleated shirt haphazardly buttoned and opened
halfway down the front. His black bow-tie hung loose around his
Company this morning was the last thing he wanted.
He took a long look at the woman whose attention was now fixed on
him as he crossed the front lawn. She was tall and slender, with
dark brown hair clipped back at the nape of her neck, and a very
pretty face. High cheek bones, a heart-shaped face, and full lips.
Too bad they were currently thinned in a disapproving line.
He wondered what she was selling. Whatever it was, he wasn’t
buying. He just wanted to hit the sheets.
Ben strode up on the porch. “’Fraid nobody’s home,” he said, hoping
she would just go away. He wasn’t in the mood for another female,
no matter how good she looked.
“I can see that,” she said. “I’m looking for Benjamin Slocum. I
presume that’s you.”
He lifted a black eyebrow. “And you would be?”
“My name is Claire Chastain. I need to speak to you, Mr. Slocum, on
a matter of extreme importance.”
“I’ll be in my office this afternoon. We can talk about anything
“This can’t wait.”
Of course not. She was a woman. Everything was a matter of
critical meltdown. “Is this business or personal?”
He let his gaze drift over her, taking in the soft curves. “Do we
know each other, Ms. Chastain?” As in have we spent the night
together, maybe I drank too much and don’t recall? But he hadn’t
done that since he’d left the SEALs. Since then he had pretty much
behaved himself. Well, more or less.
“No, we’ve never met. Please, Mr. Slocum. This is important and I
would rather not discuss it out on your front porch.”
Irritation filtered through him. Who the hell did she thinks she
was? “Angel, this had better be good.”