Wyn Security

by Dana Volney

  “I don’t know what you want from me. I needed a job for now. This is a good one. And the timing was right.”

  “It’s the timing I’m most concerned about.”

  “It’s not the chemistry we had earlier?” She had a lot of balls bouncing in her mind, but the kiss from earlier kept creeping in. Like light blue in a sea of gray terror. She was running scared; she knew that. The kiss had grounded her though, which ticked off part of her. Dammit. She didn’t need to fly halfway round the globe to kiss a man to feel like she was going to live to see next week. Right?

  She could be her own hope.

  He blinked his soft blue eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually used that term with anyone but you.”

  “Term?”

  “Wife.” His voice softened and the “f” stayed on his lips long enough to catch her attention.

  “Oh.”

  Warmth spread from her cheeks to her belly, and flashes of their wedding made her mouth dry. They’d flown back to the States to get married. Felix was from Seattle, and she’d spent most of her time in the United States on the East Coast. They’d discussed visiting a remote area different from the desert they’d just spent six months in. She’d never seen Wyoming, so they’d ended up in Buffalo in a charming bed and breakfast that, along with horse rides, offered weddings as well. They’d said their vows near a waterfall surrounded by pine trees and rolling hills. The smell of a babbling brook still brought her back to the moment she promised to love Felix forever.

  When they were first married, they called each other husband and wife nonstop, and every time it turned her on like crazy. She knew it did for him, too—or at least it used to.

  No one who wanted to hurt them would ever think to look in Wyoming for a marriage license for either of them. She never wanted to give anyone an edge over her, and letting people know who you were attached to was a big sign that told them just where to go.

  Besides, that kind of secret had been hot.

  She stepped closer to him, just enough to get a whiff of his woodsy musk. “Come back to the hotel with me and say it again.”

  She could be brazen because she knew the odds of him taking her up on her offer were low. Felix had always had way more self-control. It used to be a game to break him and exhilarating when she did, but tonight it was annoying. What would one more night hurt? Holy hell, she was all over the place—she needed to settle down and focus. She wasn’t in Seattle to win back Felix. She was there to save herself from the consequences of a job gone bad.

  He stepped forward and she swallowed. Heat radiated off his perfectly muscle-defined body, even though the night had a dewy bite. His gaze roamed over her face, and she barely breathed, waiting for an answer.

  “I want a divorce.”

  She stopped breathing. She needed him by her side for this. Their past was all she had at her disposal to persuade him to help her. He was her ace—she was out of all other cards to play.

  “Some other time then.” She winked and pivoted to get into her rental.

  She watched him walk away—a broad-shouldered, tanned, handsome man who could do anything he set his mind to. One tall, sexy as all get out, best kisser in the world, decent guy. Why would he ask her for a divorce? They’d never even talked about it before. And times had been much worse than this. Technically their sixth wedding anniversary was right around the corner. And he wasn’t seeing anyone—not with the way he’d kissed her.

  “Oh, and Arabella?” he called out from his Hummer. “I will find out what’s going on, and for both of our sakes, you better make sure it’s tomorrow.”

  She’d tell him tomorrow—after she came up with a story tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Felix hadn’t slept a wink. There were too many unknowns—which were getting cleared up today whether Arabella liked it or not.

  He hauled his ass out of his Hummer in the new morning light, the bite to the air fully waking him up. He’d beat Arabella to the office but not Winter. Good. He wanted to ask her a few questions too.

  “Good morning.” She was in her office that was positioned straight back off the main entrance on the second floor. She set her pen down, clearly also ready for their overdue conversation. “I did my homework. Your name never came up.”

  It wouldn’t have. The work they’d done, both separate and together, was sensitive in nature, and details of team members and missions weren’t readily dispersed. “Since when do we hire people without consulting the team?” Or me.

  “You’ve been . . . checked out for a while. I didn’t want to add to your plate.”

  “My plate has room for hiring decisions.”

  He’d admit he’d been a tad preoccupied dwelling on the fact that his life sucked and nothing felt quite right these days, but, shit, that didn’t make him incapable of doing all parts of his job.

  “She came very highly recommended.”

  “I’m sure she did. She’s good at what she does. But I doubt you got the full picture of what she’s capable of.” Even he still wasn’t sure what lengths Arabella would go to for what she thought was right or to complete an assignment.

  “Enlighten me.” Winter leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, daring him to make her regret her decision.

  He couldn’t do that. Arabella was a fine operator—one he’d depended on countless times. What he questioned was her motivation for seeking out Winter. For showing up at all.

  “She has dual citizenship, so she works for the United States and Italy. Spying mostly. But she’s also trained in explosives and combat. Most of her missions, like mine, are classified counterintelligence.”

  “Is that how you met?”

  “I was in with this warlord, Andre, in South Africa, and she came in and nearly blew my entire operation.”

  The first time he’d seen Arabella, she’d been in a creamy ruffle dress—like a country goddess.

  He’d been working Andre for two months—three if you counted the research and prep that had gone into setting up the initial meeting. Felix was close to setting up Andre’s take out by his enemies—who, coincidentally, happened to be friendlies to the United States and who’d been deemed less a threat. Then one morning, in walked a golden-skinned beauty with piercing brown eyes he’d never forget.

  He’d swear to all things holy there’d been a white light behind her when she’d looked him dead in the eye. A torch had been lit deep in his belly, and there’d been no way that he’d felt such a strong connection and she’d felt nothing. Then she batted her eyes at Andre, and all the fucking guy wanted to do was show her around and tell her anything she wanted to know. Felix couldn’t even remember the lame-ass reason she’d given for being in Andre’s camp, but it hadn’t mattered. Andre was notorious for his womanizing, and he’d taken a quick liking to Arabella’s physical appearance. And she’d been into Andre’s, which made Felix suspicious. He didn’t often compare himself to other men, but hell, he was way better looking and built than the other guy and she hadn’t looked twice at him.

  He’d worked back channels to find out if anyone else was running an op in the area—lo and behold, Arabella’s handler hadn’t been informed of Felix’s mission. Andre being a top priority in the area, she’d been sent in. Felix had rolled with the punches, and she’d been in and out with the information it had taken him ninety days to get close to. Talk about a kick in the nuts to his ego.

  “And you still became friends?” Winter studied him closely, disbelief clear in her eyes.

  They’d worked together for five-plus years already counting their time in the Middle East and she knew he didn’t get off on people crowding his territory. The mission came first—it always had—but he’d been known to put people in their place when they were out of line.

  “We became more than that.”

  Winter was like a sister. It didn’t feel all that weird telling her more than he told others. Even so, there were still some details he’d keep to himself.

&
nbsp; “I see.” Her brow arched. She could fill in the blanks on her own.

  “She’s in town for more than this job. She hasn’t been to this side of the country in years.” He took a deep breath. If there really was a powerful man with resources out to kill him, he didn’t want his team to be ambushed. “There’s one more thing.”

  “Oh-kay.”

  “I haven’t confirmed it yet, but there might be some people after me. To kill me. So be more vigilant in case they decide to go after innocents.”

  Winter sat up straight. “Who and why?”

  “Darek. A sheikh who lost a lot of money and uranium because of me.”

  “When?”

  “Four years ago. Remember when I would leave for periods of time and not tell anyone where I was? I was undercover in the Arabian Peninsula. Part of the reason I was in Louis’s unit was for cover and access to the area.” He shook his head. “If that cocky bastard Darek just would’ve listened, he’d have been able to keep most of the money that was confiscated.”

  “How do you know he’s after you?”

  “Arabella told me last night before I followed her here.”

  “How would she know?”

  “I’m not sure it’s true yet. But she does have her hands in a lot of pots.”

  The woman was good at what she did—her specialty was keeping her contacts intact and bountiful. People loved to love her.

  “Can I look into anything for you?”

  “I could use help seeing if he’s in town, or his men. I don’t know who he hired.”

  She scribbled down a name and location on a notepad. “You guys are meeting with a Mr. Parsa Bahman, who,” she checked her cell phone, “hails from Oman. Be careful. This might not be a coincidence.”

  The country of Oman bordered Saudi Arabia, and Darek had many contacts in the vicinity. “Few things are.”

  She handed him a folder with the particulars on Mr. Bahman—photo, where he was staying, why he was in town, places he needed to go, and any known threats.

  There had been a Bahman on Darek’s payroll in the finance arena, but Felix had never gotten a look at the guy or a first name. Darek liked to keep business segmented as much as possible. Not much intel from the United States or any of its allies had ever been collected on the man who dealt in dirty money, weapons, and uranium, so Felix had submitted his findings, and they’d probably been put in a file somewhere—one he’d never been able to see. After his mission concluded and his debriefing wrapped up, his commanding officer had sent him back to Louis’s unit, and he’d never heard more about it.

  He stood to leave just as Arabella came through the front door. Great. He definitely wasn’t waking up from this nightmare any time soon, and she looked fantastic. Hair up in a ponytail, an army green version of the same cargo pants from last night, long-sleeved shirt to match, and boots. She was one stylish she-devil. And those curves—why he hadn’t indulged last night was beyond him. The sex was always mind-blowing. But what he really missed was waking up to her—her long hair covering his arm and shoulder and her naked body curled into him. She’d look up at him with her innocent, brown-orange, sleepy stare and lazy smile . . . It’s hard to hide emotions when you’re waking up from a deep sleep, and in those few seconds, no matter what had happened or what the future held, he’d found a calmness he had never experienced anywhere else. Knowing that someone really and truly was in your corner changed a man. At least it had for him. He’d thought about the future, a family, and growing old. Fate or life or bad fucking luck had had other ideas and royally screwed up everything he’d dared to dream about.

  “Good morning.” Arabella’s gaze now was not so innocent. Not so innocent at all.

  He didn’t bother stopping to exchange pleasantries—he had none to give. They could do their talking on the road. “Let’s go.”

  She pivoted and followed. “Where are we going?”

  “Downtown.”

  “Any specific place in mind?”

  He stopped short and she nearly bumped into him. “Your hotel.”

  “And why is that?”

  Her brow arched, and a smile tugged at her lips, clearly goading him. He swore under his breath. If he’d wanted to, he’d have taken her last night when she’d been naked and offering in his bed. He was not going to get sucked into her web again. They were done. When whatever the fuck this was was over, she was definitely signing divorce papers. He didn’t need their commitment and strings controlling his future—he needed to let her go once and for all.

  “It’s where our new client is.” He kept his expression devoid of emotion. “One that I’m sure you’ll be very interested in.”

  They loaded up, grabbing bulletproof vests from the back of his vehicle and extra clips for their weapons. He had a small armory at his disposal like any good operator would—some Wyn Security had provided, but most of the hardware was his own private collection. What wasn’t surprising was that Arabella came prepared with a set of knifes, two handguns, and a taser strapped and hidden around her body. The taser was new to her arsenal since the last time he’d seen her gear up. He hated those fucking things, but they could get the job done in close quarters.

  “You drive around with all of this out in the open?” She put on a black windbreaker with block lettering on the back that read: WYN SECURITY.

  “It’s hidden, and my windows are tinted.”

  “You could take down a small country.”

  He re-holstered his favorite Beretta underneath his jacket. “Get in.”

  Why the hell did she have to be as beautiful as she was dangerous? He should’ve cut all ties with her a long time ago. They hadn’t had a conventional marriage, not since the first year, but it had been what worked for them. Sort of. If you counted barely seeing each other or not getting along most of the time a success. Which he didn’t. And especially not now. Now was his chance to let her go.

  Saying the word divorce out loud last night had been cleansing to his system, the start of moving on. Fuck. They weren’t the same people who’d fallen helplessly in love all those years ago.

  He drove over the bridge and headed north on the interstate.

  “Tell me the story you concocted so we can start getting to the truth.” He was going to stay calm and collected today. He was not going to yell—he’d promised himself.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Have you decided what you’re going to do about Darek’s men?”

  “I haven’t decided if he’s a real threat.”

  “You seriously aren’t going to listen to me?”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then no.” He side glanced her way. She was looking at him like he was a defiant child. “I’m looking into it on my own.”

  Silence covered a very long two miles. Nope. There’s more to it. There has to be.

  “I know what you said last night. And I know you’re sticking to your story today.” He didn’t bother to look at her—she was going to tell him whatever she had planned. His only hope was that she messed up or gave him more than she wanted to. “What’s not working for me is that you show up warning me of Darek when I’ve heard no other chatter from sources I had set up for that very reason, and then I catch you going behind my back and getting a job where I work, for which you also have no good reason. You’re banking up a lot of ideas and lies, Nox.”

  “What? I’m not allowed to care about you?” Her voice was a little muffled because her head was turned toward her window. He couldn’t tell if her tone was sincere or sarcastic.

  “I didn’t say that.” He exited the freeway into downtown heading for the Westin.

  “Sure sounded like it.”

  “You know very well these events are suspicious.” Great. Now he was on the offense. “Answer me this one question: Is it just me who is in trouble, or is it you, too?”

  He’d done the math in his head and gone over countless reasons she would’ve knocked on his door—picked the lock
rather. There were only two. He didn’t think her entire story was a lie; he just didn’t think it was the whole truth either. Not after she got a job through Winter and not him. Really, the whole job thing was bizarre—what in the hell was her angle with that move?

  He stopped at a light and turned in his seat to face her.

  “It’s you.” She leveled her gaze dead into his eyes.

  Eye twitch. Shit. He kept his stare on her for a few more seconds before nodding once and facing the road again. He gritted his teeth. She was in trouble and not willing to tell him about it.

  “Tell me about the client downtown.” She shifted in her seat toward him and crossed her legs. Now he had her full attention.

  “He needs extra security for a couple of meetings today and tomorrow, and then he’s heading back home.”

  “And why is he interesting to me?”

  “He’s from Oman and his name is Parsa Bahman.”

  She nodded, her expression steady. He couldn’t tell if the name registered with her. Dammit. He gripped the steering wheel harder and drove into the underground parking lot. Her ordeal could have nothing to do with Darek—that name could’ve been merely to get his attention.

  He parked and grabbed the client folder Winter had given him. He leafed through it, handing Arabella a couple of sheets on locations she’d have to check out tonight while he took others. That would also give him time to follow her again. Whatever she did in her off time he needed to know.

  The amber and floral scent that followed her everywhere had spread to his vehicle. He’d probably never get rid of the smell now, even when she was long gone. And she would leave, whether she gave him a divorce or not.

  He already couldn’t eat vanilla ice cream because it held a faint reminder. Now he was going to have to trade in his Hummer.

  “Follow my lead. No going off on your own.” He reached for his door handle.

  “Sure thing. Boss.”

  She fell in step with him as they made their way to the conference room the client had reserved. Apparently he liked a home base besides his personal room.