Shadow of Doubt (An SBG Novel Book 2)

by P. A. DePaul

  Years into Victor’s reign of running the Black Ops side of SweetBriar Group, the CEO became twisted and paranoid to the point he viewed everyone as a security risk. More and more operatives were declared Rogues for the smallest infractions (real and perceived), consigning them to a death sentence, and his madness also bled into the civilian world. In the beginning, he’d place the operatives under twenty-four-hour surveillance, and when opportunities for “natural-looking” deaths were presented, they died. In the end, he’d send his Assassin Squad to make the hit with no subtlety.

  But Victor’s no longer in charge. The dangerous thought poked through his memories. Wraith found and got to keep Grady. Life could be different now.

  He couldn’t risk it just to satisfy an itch. An itch? Who you foolin—

  His phone rang. He pushed his squawking conscience to the back of his mind and saw Ted’s name scrolling across the screen. “You all have your flights booked for tomorrow?”

  Ted wearily sighed. “Yeah.”

  “What time do you guys arrive?”

  “Around ten a.m.”

  Cappy grunted. “Fine. Text me the details.”

  A pause, something sounding like paper shuffling, then Ted’s drained voice stated, “I found out a little bit more about your girl.”

  Cappy startled, but before he could make the correction, the genius continued, “In an interesting twist not normally done, the Marshals also placed Michelle’s parents in WITSEC using the last name of Fields. Seems the mother had a near-fatal incident not too long after Michelle returned to the states. Marshals suspected the cartel trying to draw Michelle out. They’re now residing in Virginia.”

  Christ. This family couldn’t catch a break.

  Michelle rolled off the couch. Bam, she smacked the floor. She flopped for a second then sat up with a start.

  “Shit. I gotta go.” He hung up on Ted’s exhausted, “Sure.” A small twinge of remorse niggled at Cappy, but not for long. Ted had to learn quickly that operators didn’t get days off or timeouts for being tired. Life in the field worked on a twenty-four/seven/three-sixty-five rotation. The kid needed to toughen up if he wanted to join Cappy’s team.

  Michelle swiped the hair out of her face and stared at the room blankly. Just as Cappy was about to open the slider, she lifted her hands over her head for a full body stretch. Her full breasts pushed against her uniform top and the bottom rose up to reveal a slim, soft patch of creamy skin on her stomach. His mouth went dry and his cock twitched. Shit. Talon was right. He needed to get the right head back in charge.

  ***

  Romeo crossed the threshold of suite 1410 with Magician right behind him. The investigation commandeered the entire fourteenth floor of the Cerise, the hotel across the street from the Blakely, for the command post and sleeping arrangements, with the FBI and U.S. Marshals taking up the most space.

  When Romeo and Magician debarked from the plane earlier, they were met by none other than FBI Special Agent in Charge Warren Bingham. The man had been on a complete fishing expedition to find out why the Senator would request them specifically. But in dodging questions from such an esteemed chauffer, they had learned the local U.S. Marshals office had identified the woman in the video and supplied the FBI with Michelle Holman’s name, addresses, and photos.

  SAC Bingham also admitted to being frustrated about the Marshals’ refusal to state why Michelle was in WITSEC in the first place. The Marshals would only cop to lending a hand in the investigation due to the potential clusterfuck it could mean for everyone later.

  Romeo nodded appropriately and made all the usual responses but made a mental note: Cappy had some ’splaining to do. What the hell had been his last mission? And who exactly was “everyone” in this scenario?

  He placed his hand on the small of Magician’s back and maneuvered them around the rim of the bustling room, taking in the energy of the space. Grim determination pulsed throughout the junior set while the seasoned veterans were a little more relaxed.

  Every male in the room surreptitiously followed Magician’s progress as she kept pace with Romeo, while the few females allowed in the inner sanctum kept up with his steps. Typical reaction for them. Most times Cappy used their looks as a way to distract their quarry while the rest of the team went in for the strike.

  Romeo snuck a glance at Mag and noted her scarred cheek didn’t face the room. Huh. Had he subconsciously done that on purpose or just the luck of the draw? And when had he become so sensitive to Magician to the point of imagining her pole dancing? An unsettled feeling weighed on his shoulders. Ever since that damn op seven months ago, something had shifted between him and Mag. An undercurrent he couldn’t name now surrounded them. He needed to find out what it was before any more daydreams—day-mares—took hold.

  “Howard, over here,” SAC Bingham bellowed over the din of conversations.

  Could it be? Romeo’s body tightened, restoring the balance in his shallow psyche.

  Over by the kitchen, a wall of badly suited bodies parted and a curvaceous woman with short, spiky blond hair, so pale it was almost white, moved forward. Her red Donna Karan dress molded to her body and the skirt stopped mid-thigh. Walking sex on four-inch heels.

  Just what he needed to wipe away the disturbing images from the club. Maybe this op won’t be so bad after all. He dropped his hand from Mag and adjusted his suit coat.

  For the second time in a matter of minutes, every male eye tracked a beautiful woman’s progress. The biggest difference was that Magician didn’t let on if she noticed it, but by the faint smile on Howard’s face she not only knew it, she encouraged it. She played the salivating agents like a violin, swaying her hips and lazily sweeping the room. When she spotted Romeo, her eyes widened, then darkened with heat. She altered her path, lifting her chin while giving him a slow, burning grin.

  Magician stiffened and a soft curse fell from her mouth. He had momentarily forgotten the two women didn’t get along. They were like cats fighting over the same territory, though he had no clue where or what it was.

  “Well, well, well,” the woman murmured, pausing in front of him. “You just perked up my day.”

  “As you did mine, Isis,” Romeo replied softly. “Or are you using an alias on this op?”

  The unexpected SBG operative slid her hand beneath his suit jacket and traced a finger over the top edge of his pec, causing his skin to pebble and the muscle to quiver in its wake. “Isis Howard. Figured it was easier since the legend was already built and hadn’t been burned yet. You?” She added a second finger to her exploration.

  He sucked in a breath at how his blood quickened in response to her touch. Their chemistry had always been explosive, and neither missed the opportunity to exploit it whenever their paths crossed. Add the bonus of neither wanting a commitment or strings attached and he had the perfect distraction.

  What had she asked? Magician shifted beside him. Oh, their aliases. “Still using Raymond Stiles and Sonya White.”

  Isis ripped her smoldering gaze away from his and coolly assessed his partner. After an uncomfortable, silent moment she finally said, “Magician.”

  “Isis.” Magician lifted her chin and stared down her nose, which was cute since Isis stood about a foot taller in those fuck-me heels. “Didn’t know the Senator had sent another team in to help. Snowman and the rest of Echo squad here?” Ice dripped off each word.

  Youch. He was going to get frostbit if he stood next to these two any longer.

  “Nope, just me.” Isis dismissively turned away and focused her attention back on him, her fingers picking up the trail to reverse back across his chest. “Happened to already be undercover, finishing an op when this occurred. Heard I missed quite a show in North Carolina last week.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “I’d have liked to jump out of a helicopter to swoop in and save you, lover.”

  “You know I like it when y
ou play soldier,” he rumbled softly, grinning. “Your ass is so cute in those pants.”

  She curled her hand around his tie. “And you know what seeing you in a well-cut suit does to me.”

  Magician gagged theatrically. “Glad we’ve got that covered. But now that Romeo and I are here, I’m sure Snowman wants you back.”

  “Nah. Things just got interesting. I think I’m going to stick around and offer my services in any way I can.”

  His shaft jumped and he knew just how he wanted her help.

  Magician stepped forward, her eyebrows snapping down and her mouth opened to—

  “Howard!”

  Isis winked. “That’s my exit cue.” She flattened her palm on his chest and leaned forward, whispering, “I’m in room—”

  “Stiles,” SAC Bingham bellowed with his hands on his hips. “Escort Howard over here since she can’t seem to find her own way.”

  He grinned at Isis. “Guess that’s my cue, too.”

  Magician stepped forward as if to follow but SAC Bingham pointed toward a small group huddled around a coffee table. “White, need you to brief the Marshals, then help them anticipate Michelle’s next moves.”

  Chapter 18

  Michelle ground the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to clear the gritty gumminess clinging to her lids. She hadn’t cried that hard in a long time. Way to show Jeremy you’re a strong independent woman, not a simpering female. Moron.

  Smashing her hands against her sockets would do nothing to reduce the puffiness, so she stretched and clicked on a table lamp, then grimaced. Perfect. A slew of items were scattered everywhere. The zipper on her purse must have loosened during her episode.

  She rolled to her hands and knees and scooped the crap spread in an impressive arc back into her bag. This episode had been a doozy. She pulled a tube of lip balm from behind the TV stand.

  Where is . . . ? She swept the area again, her gaze catching on the tip of a bright blue package.

  “There you are,” she whispered, climbing under the dining room table. Without a toothbrush, the gum was the next best thing she could do to clear her mouth after her troubled sleep. She chomped down on the small square and felt better when the intense peppermint filled her taste buds.

  Bright light swamped the room just as a deep baritone voice asked, “What are you doing under there?”

  She jerked up at Jeremy’s sudden question. “Ow!” She rubbed her aching head. Dang it. Would she ever be suave or smooth around this man? Or better yet, would there be a time when she didn’t have her butt displayed in front of his face?

  Crawling out from under the table, she held up the package of gum. “Just cleaning up my mess. Want any?”

  Cappy’s lips twitched. “No, thanks.”

  Great. Just as she suspected, she looked like an idiot.

  He held his hand out and she begrudgingly grabbed onto it. She barely registered the zing of electricity for the quick ease he hauled her off the floor. Daggone he was strong.

  Heart pounding at his close proximity, she inhaled and got a nose full of Cappy. Holy crap. She hadn’t felt such a gooey, toe-curling, must-have-him-now reaction since . . . ever. After Colombia, she hadn’t even experienced a flutter.

  Peering over his shoulder to distract her inflamed libido, she asked, “Where’s Talon?”

  “Should be at the hospital by now.”

  A lance of remorse punched through her growing yearning. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “No need. Just a precaution. He says he’s had a broken nose before and doesn’t think it is this time.”

  Michelle snorted. “I’m not surprised, but it still doesn’t excuse my actions.”

  “You don’t need to explain PTSD to me. Seen it plenty of times.”

  “Yeah, but have you experienced it?”

  Cappy frowned. “Not really. I mean every soldier experiences nightmares after . . . but—”

  “You’re lucky,” she said, not meaning to make him uncomfortable. “Until you lose all concept of when and where you are, you won’t truly know how frightening it is.”

  “I’ll give you that, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “Yet, I still am.”

  “At the risk of setting off an argument, I was there, remember? I know the hell you were in.”

  She swallowed, choking at the way the gum shot down her throat. Trying not to let on she couldn’t even handle chewing gum, she thumped her chest once, cleared her throat, then stated (though it came out more wheezy then she’d have liked), “Don’t think I’m not going to get answers to my growing list of questions, but I have something I need to say first.”

  He stiffened and his face grew wary.

  Clearing her throat, she said simply, “Thank you.”

  Cappy jerked, his eyebrows slammed down and his frown deepened. “You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t join the Green Berets for praise or glory.”

  “Spoken like a true patriot.”

  He grunted and looked away, the fierce reaction receding from his handsome face. “Listen, it’s been a long day, and I suspect you’re still recovering from a wicked hangover. I promise, you’re safe here. How about we get into what happened last night first thing in the morning?”

  A giant weight lifted off her shoulders. Sure, that meant she wouldn’t get her answers either, but for the next twelve hours, she’d get to live in her fantasy world with a real, live Jeremy.

  “Again, thank you,” she whispered, cocking her head and openly studying him. Deep creases lined his forehead and his tanned skin appeared weathered and thick. Faint lines radiated from the corners of his eyes, giving him an air of wisdom and experience. Masculinity poured out of him, defying anyone to call him anything other than a soldier. All that made him truly breathtaking.

  Their gazes locked and her mouth dried as she fell into the trance of his deep rich eyes. She tried to plumb the depths, but he wouldn’t show her much. What she did find had her breath quickening. Desire constricted his pupils and darkened his irises.

  The package of gum slid from her hands as her eyes drifted to the succulent lips that had fueled her fantasies for years. What would he do if she acted on her longing and threw her arms around him, kissing him with all the pent-up passion she harbored for him but never thought she’d get to pursue?

  The tips of his fingers whitened as the grip on his hips contracted.

  Stubborn man with his rigid control.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs as she considered her options. She could back down and wait on him or she could take the initiative and turn a fantasy into reality. Her hands shook and a thin layer of sweat coated her palm. She had never attempted to seduce a man. With her scarred body and flashbacks at the most inopportune times, she just took care of her own needs.

  She closed the small space between them and lifted a hand.

  His expression froze. “What are you doing?”

  She gently traced one of the deep creases to his temple then smoothed the area with her thumb.

  His posture stiffened and he captured her hand. The rough calluses electrifying every nerve in her skin.

  “This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We need to focus on something else.” His thumb traced circles against her palm, causing her blood to boil. “When Talon calls, what do you want him to pick up for you? Toothbrush, pajamas—”

  “I sleep in the nude,” she lied without a thought, so focused on the sensations he elicited, probably projecting what she hoped to happen.

  He swallowed audibly and his eyes glazed. “Nude?”

  She lifted her other hand to caress his cheek.

  “Unfair,” he replied roughly. “Below the belt.”

  “Not yet, but it could be,” her saucy mouth retorted, surprising her.

  “We can’t do th
is, Michelle.” His eyes lasered in on her lips, belying his words.

  Her lips tingled and she could actually feel his gaze roving over her mouth. Her heart pumped a harsher, heavier rhythm, increasing the urgency coursing through her. She moved closer, blocked by his holding her hand between them like a defensive wall.

  “I’ve been dying to kiss you since the second you cradled me in your arms six years ago,” she admitted softly, stroking his cheek, reveling in the freeing recklessness of stating the truth.

  His hand constricted around hers. “There’re too many reasons—”

  “Later.” She pressed closer, running her fingers through his short hair. The soft spikes felt glorious against her fingertips.

  “I’m too old for you.”

  She flattened her hand against the back of his head and pulled. “Nonsense.”

  “This is not healthy,” he protested, though he allowed her to inch him forward, slowly. “What those men did. You don’t really want me—”

  “Want to bet?”

  He froze and she tightened her hand. Was he going to pull away?

  “You want this too, Cappy,” she whispered, a breath away from his mouth. “Just as badly as I do. No more excuses. One kiss. If it sucks we’ll never speak of it or repeat it again.” Her fingers caressed the stubbly hair at the base of his neck. “But if it doesn’t . . .”

  He groaned. “The Fates hate me right now.” His eyes burned with fire. “It’s going to be a mind-blowing, life-altering event. I just know it.” He dropped her hand and grasped both sides of her head, closing the distance.