by Susan Stoker
As he watched the last of the fire burn out, he recanted the latest to his boss. Unease settled deep. The perpetrator was still here. Watching. He studied every face, but they all appeared suspicious.
“Between you and Remy, you’ve pissed off more than your fair share of criminals,” Knight remarked after he’d mentioned the bomb. “You think it’s one of the trainees?”
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yes. Has to be. Even though Remy said the incidents started before the groups came in.”
His boss grunted. “Probably to throw you off. How many trainees are you talking?”
“Four man S.W.A.T. team from Phoenix,” he replied. “And a six person security team from a Miami shipping company. We spent the last two days going through the files, but found no personal connections.”
“Brooke can fly Sam there in four hours—”
“No,” he cut Knight off. “Thanks. But, we’ll figure this out. Besides, Sam’s place is with his very pregnant wife. How is Lisa?”
He hoped shifting the focus to Knight’s oldest daughter would put an end to sending another agent. They’d stand out. Besides, he could take care of himself. And even though Remy was injured, his brother was still deadly.
“Good, but antsy.” Knight’s chuckle filled his ear.
A grin tugged Rook’s lips at the thought of his tough former SEAL buddy becoming a dad. The guy had bigger balls than Rook thought. Not only had Sam secretly courted the commander’s oldest daughter, he’d gotten her pregnant. Technically, the courting happened years ago, and they split up. But after reuniting on a case last year, the two hooked up again, right under the commander’s nose. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
“Another month,” Knight replied. “Listen, you sure you’re okay?”
He should’ve known better. The commander was un-sidetrack-able. “Yes.” He strode toward his brother who was directing two of the trainers to photograph the debris. Time to change the subject again. “Why did you call, sir?”
Hesitation on the line was never a good sign. “I was going to ask for your help, but you’ve got your hands full.”
“My help?” He stopped dead.
“Yes. As we discussed, Sam and Lisa are out of the rotation. Brooke and the other girls are out on assignments. And Nikki is recovering with her fiancé down in Florida.”
He stilled at the mention of his friend’s name. “She’s engaged to Cage again?”
His brother met his gaze from across the twisted rubble.
“Yes.”
A full smile spread across his lips, gaining a frown from his brother. “That’s good news.”
Great news, actually. Sam had introduced him to Nikki Locke last year. The woman was beautiful, smart, courageous as hell…and broken. Rook could never resist helping a warrior. She had trust and intimacy issues, and he had been her friend, which later turned into more. But he knew their companionship would never go further, and he was fine with that. She was in love with her ex-fiancé Cage, and Rook was a SEAL. He didn’t do relationships. Been there. Done that. Disaster happened.
“Yes,” Knight replied. “The two of them might open up a satellite office in Jacksonville.”
“That’s great, sir,” he replied, and meant it. “So, what did you need from me?” He turned from the debris and headed back toward the porch.
“To protect a witness for a week or two while you’re at your ranch.”
Damn.
He didn’t want to turn his boss down. Could he even afford to? He’d only done one job. Hell, he was still in the probation period with the agency. Rook pinched the bridge of his nose and released a breath. How hard could the detail be? He could keep the mark sequestered in the house. But would the guy be safe from the threats on the ranch?
He was a SEAL. Of course he could.
“I can do that, sir.” Rook stepped onto the porch and leaned against a rail, crossing his booted feet at the ankles as his brother joined him. With a slight shake of his head, he held Remy’s questioning gaze. “Who am I protecting, and when?”
“We’re calling her Ms. Swanson. She’s a schoolteacher who witnessed a mob hit. I need to get her out of Virginia as soon as possible.”
A woman? Damn. Remy wasn’t going to be thrilled.
“I’ll pull Brooke from her case long enough to fly your mark out to you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? He glanced at the sun sloping in the sky and swallowed a curse. Then another. That only gave him a few hours until sunset to gather evidence from what was left of his new truck.
He had a late night ahead.
“Are you sure about this, Rook?” Knight asked.
Shit. He didn’t want his boss doubting him. “Yes, of course, sir.”
“All right. And it’s probably best if you tell your brother and Burly so they don’t pressure you to send her away. I know you can trust them.”
“Yes, sir.” They’d certainly question his sanity for bringing a woman to the ranch with threats going on.
“I’m emailing you the file now,” Knight stated. “I’ll text you the arrival specifics in the morning.”
His phone dinged at the same time the call ended.
“Did you seriously just accept a job?” Remy’s eyebrow disappeared under his hair.
Rook eyed the activity on the side of the house, making sure no one was within earshot. Might as well get it all out. He glanced back at his brother and nodded. “Yes. Protection detail. I’m watching her here.”
“Her?” Remy’s voice rose. “Ah, hell, Rook. Don’t we have enough trouble without bringing some scared chick to the ranch?”
“It’s my job, Remy. You told me not to stop working.”
“Yeah, but that was before I knew you’d bring your work home with you.”
Rook couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Sorry, dear, didn’t know the ranch was off limits.”
Remy flipped him the bird exactly when Burly stepped onto the porch.
“You two playing nice?” The cook grinned.
“My idiot brother just told his boss he’d protect a witness at this ranch.”
Burly’s thick white eyebrows lifted, along with his shoulder. “I’ll admit the timing’s off, but it is his job, Remy.”
Rook folded his arms across his chest and stared Remy down. “Yes, and I gave my word, so there’s no pulling out.”
“I’d feel better if it were a guy.” His disgruntled sibling dropped into an Adirondack chair and scowled out at the pasture.
He couldn’t agree more. “Me too.”
“You’re watching a lady?” Burly’s smile widened. “Now I see the problem. Remy’s afraid she’ll fall in love with him, like they all do.”
Anger tightened his brother’s jaw and thinned his lips.
Rook grinned. “You’re irresistible, bro. What can I say?”
It was true. His brother’s concern wasn’t unfounded. On more than one occasion, the women Remy had worked with, protected, or lately, trained, fell for him without provocation. But Remy was still too shattered over losing Celine to open himself up.
Burly eased into another chair and faced Remy. “One of these days, the right one will come along and make you enjoy life again. Mark my words, boy. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Watch me,” Remy muttered, his white-knuckled grip on the chair as tight as his jaw.
The signs were there. His brother was about to take flight.
Rook decided to cut him a break. “Not all women want to jump your bones, bro. So relax. This one’s a schoolteacher. Maybe even a married one.” Although, he knew marital status had never stopped women from making passes at his brother in the past. He lifted his phone and opened his email to stare at a picture of his mark.
“Damn.”
His heart rocked in his chest.
Hard.
The photo of a stunning woman with brown hair, delicate features, and the most incredible light blue eyes filled his screen.
“That can’t
be good,” Remy drawled. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Beautiful. The woman was damn beautiful.
Rook cleared his dry throat and nodded. “Yeah.” He knew he should twist the phone around and show his brother, but he hesitated, wanting to keep the beauty to himself a bit longer.
Which was a damn stupid notion. He didn’t want to get attached to his mark any more than his brother wanted the mark to get attached to him. He turned his cell toward Remy and Burly.
His brother cursed. “Is she married?”
Rook twisted the phone back around and continued to skim the email. “No.” The small shaft of warmth filling his chest was purely due to the fact he didn’t have to worry about her trying to sneak a call to a loved one. He glanced at the rest of her history. “She’s twenty-eight, one brother, parents are deceased.”
Burly’s clap echoed down the porch. “She sounds perfect. Just what this place needs.”
“Yeah, just what Rook needs. Not me.” Remy shook his head and rose to his feet. “I’ll worry about the ranch. Good luck protecting her, bro. I’ve the feeling you’re going to need it.”
A protest shot up Rook’s throat, but died on his lips as her photo regained his attention. He had a sinking feeling his damn brother was right.
*
Tarah Lynch was having a bad week.
Six days ago, there had been an attempt on the life of a former stripper under her protection from one of the East Coast mafia families. Her mission as an agent for the Knight Agency was simple. Protect the young woman at all costs.
Done.
Except, when the guy shot at Tarah, she shot back. She didn’t have a choice. It was self-defense. Her bullets just happened to hit her target. Her stint in the army, plus her KA training, sealed that deal.
With a disheartened breath, she blew a strand of hair from her face and grimaced. Too bad the gunman was the mob boss’s son. Usually, higher ups in the family hired a hitman, or sent a soldier or a captain to do their dirty work. It wasn’t her fault he chose to take care of business himself.
Or that she was a crack shot.
She eyed the coffee mugs in the breakroom sink at Camelot, the Knight Agency headquarters, then fished a hair tie from her pocket. Good. Work. Tarah cleaned when she was nervous. And, yeah, she was nervous. Washing the two cups wouldn’t keep her busy for long, but at least it was something to do while she waited for her boss, Jameson Knight, to come out of his office and explain why he’d called her in to Camelot.
The ordinary building in the middle of a row of Alexandria factories served as headquarters. It was bigger than their old place up in Georgetown. Which was good, considering they were growing, adding more knights to infiltrate, protect, retrieve, and investigate non-government sanctioned assignments. She and the other agents loved that congressional committees, politics, none of that affected KA. Her boss did try to cooperate with the government agencies whenever possible, though. Her protection detail had been in direct relationship with the FBI.
Swallowing a sigh, she filled the sink with water and squeezed the soap bottle a little too hard. Bubbles multiplied at an alarming rate over the water’s surface. She cut the tap, but it was too late, they were out of hand.
Like her life.
No matter how hard Tarah tried to fix her mistakes, she tended to make them worse. Yanking the plug on the drain, she scoffed at the water disappearing with a swirl of suds. Too bad she couldn’t pull the plug on her bad luck. She wouldn’t mind removing some of that from her life.
The Feds weren’t happy with her. She’d killed their suspect. Thirteen months of undercover work had died with Salvatore Serrano, Junior. They’d had their sights on the aficionado’s father, but without young Sal, their pipeline to papa was gone.
At least her boss wasn’t upset. Much.
“Hi, sis.” Her brother TJ emerged from his “den” of computers off to the side to pull her in for a hug.
Three years younger than her, he was blessed with red hair—like the grandmother they never knew—a brain like Einstein, and enough good luck for them both. Except for when the MIT graduate got caught hacking into the Pentagon’s mainframe and faced Federal prison a few years back.
Tarah figured that had to be her fault, too. Somehow.
Thankfully, Jameson Knight had stepped in, had the Federal sentence wiped out, and put her brother to work. Which was good, since their parents were dead, and she had been overseas playing army and not around to help.
“Didn’t know you were coming in today.”
She returned the hug. “I wasn’t supposed to, until Knight called me in.” With a quick squeeze, she moved out of the embrace to finish washing the cups.
“Don’t sweat it.” TJ leaned against the counter, folded his arms, and winked. “Bossman already declared your shoot righteous.”
Nodding, she rinsed and dried the mugs. If only there was a wash-rinse-repeat for agents. Although, she wouldn’t do anything different with young Sal. He’d drawn on her, she fired back. It had been him or her.
She chose her.
After setting the mugs in the cupboard, she worked on ridding the sink of bubbles in an attempt to clean up her mess. With any luck, the boss would hand her a shit job, desk duty, anything other than calling her in to be fired.
“Ah, good, Tarah, you’re here.” Jameson Knight exited his office in his normal brisk, precise gait.
Tall, broad, fit, he was a force to be reckoned with, and his shrewd blue gaze could draw a confession from even the most hardened criminal. She’d witnessed it countless times over her two years with the agency. She’d also witnessed how those same blue eyes, and his graying temples, rendered women stupid. It was quite comical to watch. No one would ever guess he was about to be a grandfather next month.
His eldest daughter Lisa, a Knight agent, and her husband Sam Gentry, also an agent, were expecting their first baby in four weeks.
“TJ, come on, join us. Brooke is on her way in.” Knight motioned toward the round table in the middle of the warehouse where they traditionally held meetings.
Tarah took her seat, breathing a little easier at the mention of Brooke. If the lead agent was coming in, then it meant this meeting was about a mission. Not a firing. Although, Jameson Knight had more class than to fire someone in public. If he was going to let her go, he would’ve called her into his office.
“Isn’t Brooke still in Florida finishing up her assignment with that Detective Delaney?” her brother asked, dropping into his seat, full grin showing his pearly whites.
The goof.
Knight, Brooke, Sam, Lisa, and her brother had all been in Florida at Nikki’s bedside where she was recovering from a near fatal gunshot wound—until Tarah had called with her dilemma. Brooke had stayed behind for some down time while the rest had returned to Virginia.
Because of her. And her mess.
Until this last assignment, Tarah had carried out her orders clean and without incident, despite spurts of bad luck. She always completed her jobs, and Knight had never once complained about her performance.
But, this time, she deserved a reprimand. She should’ve been prepared for the attack, and should’ve recognized the gunman. Hell, Junior’s photo was in her files. But, he’d grown a beard, and his hair hadn’t been slicked ba—
“What’s done is done, Tarah,” Knight cut into her thoughts with a sharp tone. “D.C. is in the past. FBI will handle it from here.” He stared at her from across the table, his gaze intense and unwavering, silently demanding a response.
She hooked her feet around the chair legs and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He gave a brisk nod as he glanced from her to her brother, then back again. “Now, let’s get down to business.”
Here it comes. Desk-duty.
Chapter Two
‡
“I’ve got another job for you.”
Tarah’s head jerked back. Knight was sending her back out into the field?
Steel b
lue eyes narrowed briefly, but he passed her and TJ a file without acknowledging her surprise. “Brooke is coming in to fly you to Texas to help Rook.”
Rook?
She frowned. “I thought he was on leave or something.”
A former SEAL, Rook was a buddy of Sam’s who’d recently joined the agency, but, so far, he and Tarah had yet to cross paths. Last she’d heard, the cowboy had headed back to Texas to help his brother.
“Sort of.” TJ drummed his fingers on the file. “He went home because his brother took an unexpected swan dive off the barn. Right, bossman?”
Knight nodded. “Yes. The two of them own a ranch that trains agents from all walks of law enforcement. His brother Remy runs the place, and last week, he suffered a broken shoulder and concussion when someone knocked a ladder out from under him.”
That would explain her brother’s unexpected remark. She flipped open the file and stared at a snapshot of a handsome man with brown hair and an easy grin that never reached his brown eyes.
Remy Lawe.
Former Green Beret. Former CIA. Thirty. Single. His features were almost chiseled. He’d obviously been through hell. She flipped to the next page, and breath caught in her throat at the photo of the Knight agent she had yet to meet.
Callahan “Rook” Lawe.
Damn, Rook was handsome. Jet black hair, high cheekbones, gorgeous blue eyes, and a strong jaw she’d wager always needed a shave. Former SEAL. Thirty-two. Single.
A fact she’s already known, but it still sent warmth to her heart.
Stupid heart.
He was her coworker. And judging by the width of his shoulders and set jaw, he was a force to be reckoned with.
If someone was targeting Remy, then Rook was more than qualified to protect his brother. The former SEAL’s presence, even in a photo, was imposing. It didn’t quite make sense why Knight was sending her, unless…there was more.
“What else has happened, sir?” She raised her chin.
A slight twitch to Knight’s lips was an indication he appreciated her astuteness. “Besides missing mail, power outages, and kittens mysteriously showing up at the ranch, yesterday, Rook’s truck blew up.”
