Sworn to Protect

by Diana Gardin

  SWORN TO PROTECT

  Rescue Ops Book 1

  Diana Gardin

  New York Boston

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Diana Gardin

  Excerpt from Promise to Defend copyright © 2017 by Diana Gardin

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner

  Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever Yours

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

  forever-romance.com

  twitter.com/foreverromance

  First published as an ebook and as a print on demand: June 2017

  Forever Yours is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever Yours name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  ISBNs: 978-1-4555-7153-6 (ebook), 978-1-4555-7154-3 (POD trade edition)

  E3-20170324-DA-NF

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue: Rayne

  1: Jeremy

  2: Rayne

  3: Jeremy

  4: Rayne

  5: Jeremy

  6: Rayne

  7: Jeremy

  8: Wagner

  9: Rayne

  10: Jeremy

  11: Rayne

  12: Jeremy

  13: Rayne

  14: Jeremy

  15: Rayne

  16: Jeremy

  17: Rayne

  18: Jeremy

  19: Rayne

  20: Jeremy

  21: Rayne

  22: Jeremy

  23: Wagner

  24: Rayne

  25: Jeremy

  26: Rayne

  27: Jeremy

  28: Rayne

  29: Jeremy

  30: Rayne

  31: Jeremy

  32: Wagner

  33: Jeremy

  34: Rayne

  35: Jeremy

  36: Rayne

  37: Jeremy

  An Excerpt From PROMISE TO DEFEND

  About the Author

  Also by Diana Gardin

  You Might Also Like…

  Newsletters

  To the Dolls, for being the very best reader group there is. I hope you love Jeremy and Rayne’s story: This one’s for you!

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I’d like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave me the desire and skill to write. Through Him I can do all things!

  My family is always there for me when I put down my computer and unplug from all things writing. I’m so thankful they’re along for this ride with me.

  Thank you to my agent, Stacey Donaghy. You are more than an agent: You are my friend, and I’m so very thankful to have found you. I am even more thankful that you’re always on my side.

  To my fabulous editor on Sworn to Protect, Lexi Smail: Working with you is such an enlightening experience. Your thoughts and ideas on the world of NES are invaluable, and your expertise when it comes to how to make a story take off is something I could never trade. Thank you for everything!

  To the team at Forever Romance: you are all such a well-oiled machine. From editing, to copyediting, to cover design and all of the other inner workings I don’t even get to see, you are all fabulous and I’m lucky to be a part of it all. Thank you for your efforts on my behalf!

  To my favorite sounding board and the girl who has become one of my very best friends, Sybil Bartel: I don’t know how it happened, but you’re like the other half of my writing brain. You’re there at all hours of the day and night, whether I need to get an idea out, or I’m completely out of them. I only hope I help you as much as you help me! Love you, girl.

  To the very best group of writers a girl could ever ask for, the NAC: Ara, Meredith, Kate, Bindu, Sophia, Laura, Missy, Jessica, Amanda, Jamie, Marie, and Marnee—you are my very best source of sanity. Without you, this business would have ended me long ago! Love y’all!

  To the bloggers who have supported me throughout this journey: There are too many of you to name, but you know who you are. You have read every single book, given me great reviews, and shared my work with as many people as you can. I couldn’t do any of this without your help and your enthusiasm. A thousand thank-yous.

  And last but never least, to the readers who find their way to Wilmington, North Carolina, to hang out with the sexy men of Night Eagle Security and the women who are strong enough to love them. I hope you fall in love with this world as much as I have, because without you I’d be nothing. <3

  Prologue

  Rayne

  My heels click on the polished marble floors as I hurry from the inner office back to my desk in the outer suite. The air, chilly in the late evening hour, feels extra frosty as it filters through my silk sleeveless blouse. I throw a glance back over my shoulder, my eyes scanning the empty hallway behind me for any sign of him.

  Just because I don’t see him doesn’t mean he isn’t close. And getting closer.

  A sound echoes somewhere in the giant building, close enough that it ricochets through my body like a gunshot. I jump, my heart leaping into my throat as my pulse skyrockets.

  I go still, listening.

  The sound of insistent footsteps pounding on the same marble I just traversed spurs me into moving again. I skid to a stop at the end of the hallway, looking down the intersecting hall in both directions.

  Which way? Which way?

  Going for the exit would be the long way. The elevator is two halls away, and my movements can be tracked on any security camera. Especially when my boss, who started this multi-million-dollar tech corporation, is the man I’m running from now.

  Oh, my God. I need to get home. I need to get to Decker.

  Thinking of my sweet boy triggers a new surge of adrenaline inside me, and I leap forward, choosing to head right, toward the stairs. At least if I’m in the stairwell, I can hear anything coming above me or below me. All I’ll have to do is get down fourteen floors to the lobby, and then I’m free.

  Free. Free. Free.

  Kicking off my shoes, I grasp them in one hand and break into a run. Crossing the short distance to the large double doors marked STAIRS, I push through them and allow them to latch silently behind me. Sucking in a deep breath, I start down the steps.

  One flight at a time, Rayne. You can do this. You have to do this.

  If Wagner Horton takes time to scan the security footage, that’s even better for me. That gives me time to get out of this damn building, and get to my kid. The heel of my palm pounds against my head as I hurry downward. Over and over again. As if I could thump away the memory of the sight that got me into this mess in the first place.

  Just work, the sam
e work I’ve done every day for the past eight months. Only this time, being Wagner Horton’s executive assistant gave me access to information I never wanted and wasn’t supposed to see.

  A sound from somewhere above me jars me back into awareness, back to the here and now. Step by step, I rush down the stairs. When I’m crossing the threshold to the seventh floor, the stairwell door below me opens and closes.

  I freeze, holding my breath.

  “Rayne? I know you’re here.”

  Wagner’s voice has never, ever scared me.

  Until now.

  I mean, he’s a tech geek turned billionaire. I never considered him to be dangerous. But the look in his eyes tonight when he discovered me in the building after hours, working late…I shudder, remembering.

  I close my eyes, willing him to just go away.

  Silence from one floor below me.

  Brrrrrrrrrrng.

  In my pocket, my cell phone rings.

  Wagner’s laugh floats toward me. “There you are.”

  The sound of his feet pounding up the stairs mingles with the quiet thump of my bare feet turning and heading up one more floor. Moving faster than I’ve moved ever, I throw myself through the eighth-floor stairwell door and into the hallway.

  The only option I have now is to hide, or to get to the elevator before he gets to me.

  I choose the elevator. Sprinting around the corner and into the hall where those heavenly golden doors lay waiting for me.

  “Come, on, come on, dammit!” Stabbing at the button repeatedly, I glance over my shoulder again and again.

  The elevator doors slide open as Wagner rounds the corner all the way down the hall.

  “Rayne!” he screams.

  The desperate sound reaches into my chest and squeezes my heart, stuttering the beats.

  Frantic, I push the CLOSE button over and over again, jabbing it with such violence I’m sure to feel the pain later.

  OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

  Please…close! Close!

  My voice is silent as I yell at the elevator doors. They begin to slide shut and I sag against the back wall of the box, letting out the breath I’d been holding

  And then Wagner appears, looming right there.

  With a yelp, I press against the back wall of the elevator.

  His face is a mask of hatred and fury. He goes to stick a hand between the doors, but it’s too late. The doors slide shut.

  With my heart in my throat, I ride the eight floors down to the parking garage. I know for a fact that, since only one elevator goes up to our offices, Wagner would have had to take the stairs. I have a decent head start, but I run anyway as soon as the elevator opens.

  Straight to my car.

  Police. I need to go to the police.

  But the memory of a photo I saw on the wall in Wagner’s office every day for eight months flashes in my brain. It’s a picture of him and the chief of the Phoenix police department, smiling and shaking hands for the camera after Wagner’s money built the department a brand-new, state-of-the-art headquarters.

  I’ve never thought that having a chief of police in your pocket was a real thing, but that picture sends me reeling. There’s no way I’m going there. Not until I know who I can trust.

  Yanking the door open and thanking the heavens for key fobs, I start the thing and peel out of my spot. Pressing the car’s Bluetooth button, I order the vehicle to call my babysitter.

  “Payton? Yeah, I’m leaving work now. I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to grab Decker, get in your car, and drive to the airport. Don’t hesitate, Payton. Do it now.”

  I’ll mourn the loss of my belongings later. Maybe I can send for them.

  But right now? I have to get out of Phoenix. Maybe forever. I know now that what I saw was important.

  Maybe important enough for him to kill me.

  I’m going to have to do the one thing I never wanted to do.

  For the first time in nearly nine years, it’s time for my son and me to go home.

  1

  Jeremy

  When my fellow team member Grisham Abbot strolls into the Night Eagle Security conference room a few minutes after I do, I lean back in my big, leather chair.

  The seriousness and tension of the undercover mission I just led siphons off me, being replaced by the relaxed comfort of being home.

  It’s like I’m two different Jeremy Teagues: the one who kicks ass during a security or black ops mission or the laid-back jokester I tend to be when I’m not working. Sometimes they get in each other’s way.

  Sometimes they fight for supremacy.

  Grisham eyes me, one hand shoving through his short blond hair as he comes to a stop across the table beside his usual seat. “You recover from whatever it is you think you saw at the airport this morning?”

  Inhaling, I try not to flip back to that moment in the airport. But the memory creeps in anyway, regardless of how hard I try to fight it…

  We’re just passing under the decorative model of a single-engine plane hanging overhead into the baggage claim area when a mane of long, raven hair catches my eye. My stomach flips, my muscles tighten, and my back teeth grind together.

  Fucking hell. That hair.

  She turns, her profile facing me, and everything inside me stills.

  My steps stutter to a stop, and I’m pretty sure the air in my lungs does, too. Everything around me, the airport crowd, the noise, fades away, and it’s like I’m staring through a tunnel of mist and fog and the only thing I can see at the end of it is her.

  Because, swear on my dog, it’s her.

  I’d scoured the airport after that, my head swiveling left and right, my eyes roving. Searching.

  There’d been rows of taxis lined up in front of the terminal, and that ghost could have disappeared into any one of them.

  Or I could have just been losing my fucking mind. More likely.

  Because I exorcised that ghost a long time ago. I don’t need it to start haunting me again.

  I snap back to the here and now as Grisham begins to lower himself into his chair. I ignore his question and lean forward. “Let’s grab a beer after we debrief.” I lift my brows, hoping he’ll accept the invitation. I’m still feeling the need to unwind, let loose a little after our op.

  He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Man, I’ve been away from my fiancée for almost a week. There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere but home after we give Jacob the rundown.”

  I feign a heavy sigh, but I knew his answer before he’d said it.

  “Whipped,” I mutter.

  “Damn right.” Grisham’s statement comes with a proud smile.

  Jacob Owen strides into the room. “Let’s debrief, gentlemen.” His tone is wry as he sends me a pointed stare.

  He leans over the low, rectangular table where, as a team, we use painstaking research to plan our missions. Clasping his hands together, he looks at Grisham and me in turn, holding our gazes as he assesses our reaction. His blue eyes, webbed with lines that are the only indicator of his middle age, stop on me.

  “First black ops government contract. First time leading a Night Eagle mission. A lot of firsts for you in the last few weeks, and for the firm. Right, Brains?”

  I nod my head and hold steady under his scrutiny. I’d give my left nut for Jacob Owen, pretty sure the whole team would. Adjusting to normal life again after Special Forces is difficult. For some of us, it’s impossible. But Jacob gets it. And when he brings one of us into the fold at Night Eagle Security, we thrive.

  Finally, he speaks again, this time addressing both Grisham and me. “You did good, boys.”

  Letting out a breath, I lean back in my seat and listen while Jacob fires questions at us about the intel we received that will bring down not just the Miami part of the arms ring, but the South American branch as well. He informs us that in a few months’ time, we’ll be leaving for Costa Rica on a second mission to first infiltrate, and then help the CIA eliminate, this
nasty operation for good.

  When our debriefing comes to an end, Jacob shakes both of our hands and glances at Grisham.

  “Ghost,” he barks.

  Grisham “Ghost” Abbot leans forward, his elbows connecting with his knees as he locks eyes with his future father-in-law. The ex-SEAL earned his nickname with his uncanny ability to sneak up on enemy forces in the field. Grisham Abbot is the strategist of our group. He’s a planner, an analyzer by nature, and that skill works to our advantage when it comes to nailing down the nitty-gritty details of a potential operation.

  “Sir.”

  “Get home to my daughter. She’s missed you.” Jacob’s lips twitch.

  As we leave Jacob’s office, I want to pump my fist in the air. I want to shout “Hell Yeah” now that I know for a fact that we’re going black ops again.

  I’ve been with NES for a little over a year. In that time, we’ve specialized in personal security for clients who can afford to pay the price for the best protection out there. In the past six months or so, Jacob has been in talks with some government agencies. His connections there have asked us multiple times to protect foreign dignitaries, their families, and other important international people who are working or vacationing close by, and we’ve excelled at every single one of those assignments.

  This last mission, sending us to infiltrate the illegal arms organization in Miami, was not only the first time I’ve taken the lead on an op, but also the first time we’ve had an official “black ops” contract with Uncle Sam as a private contractor.

  Deep cover, secret mission…everything that comes with it is my element. I fucking love it. The reason they call me Brains is because I have an obsession with techy gadgets for the field. I have a whole room dedicated to storing all of the tools and equipment we may need for a mission or an assignment, and I love stocking it up and keeping it up-to-date with everything current in the world of tech and gear. This job is in my blood, and I could never imagine doing anything different.

  My adrenaline is still pumping from everything we accomplished, and I know when I get back to my house, the first thing I’ll need to do is run.