Targeted do-1

by Katie Reus

  Wesley said something, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was vaguely aware when he walked past Jack and shut the door, but she had eyes only for Jack. Abruptly she stood, knocking her purse to the floor and spilling the contents, but she didn’t care. “Are you okay?”

  “I think that should be my line.” He didn’t take any steps toward her.

  Okay, she deserved that. She’d accused him of betraying her when he put her first. Even before himself. The frustrating man had been willing to go to jail for her. He’d been protecting her, just like always. His familiar scent was intoxicating, but she forced herself to focus. “I guess you’re not arrested?”

  He shook his head. “No. After what I pulled, Wesley had to bring me in, but with the information we recovered from Chadwick, they’ll probably give me a medal.”

  Relief punched through her. “So you caught that Abu whatever guy?”

  “Not yet, but they’re closing in on him. With Vargas dead and your former assistant in jail, there aren’t any more loose ends.”

  She shifted on her feet as they stared at each other. The last two days without him had been calm and uneventful. Well, with the exception of filling out a novel’s worth of paperwork for the NSA, things had been quiet. She’d also been living in a suspended state of pure hell without Jack. She hadn’t even realized anything was missing from her life until he’d barreled into it. “I’m so sorry for not believing you. I didn’t know what you’d put on the line for me.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets but still didn’t make a move in her direction. That’s when she noticed a light sheen of sweat had formed across his forehead. Under the most intense gunfire, the man barely flinched. Now he was sweating?

  “Why did you come here?” he rasped out.

  “Because I love you.” Saying the words released the pressure around her chest. She’d never said those words to a man before. Not even Sam. She’d loved him but had never found the courage. Saying them now should terrify her, but after everything she’d been through, it was a relief. She’d spent a decade running from anything resembling commitment, and it was time to stop. If any man was worth risking her heart, it was the brave one standing in front of her.

  His lips curled up at the corners in an almost smile, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe she’d made a mistake in coming here. Maybe he was nervous because he didn’t know how to let her down easily. He might have told her that he wanted her forever in the heat of an intense moment, but now that everything had settled down, he could have realized she wasn’t what he wanted. Even if that was true, she wouldn’t let herself regret telling him.

  She averted her gaze and bent to retrieve her fallen purse. Stupid tears stung her eyes, so she kept her head down as she reached for a tube of lip gloss. She stilled when Jack’s strong, callous hand clasped over hers. She hadn’t even heard him move toward her.

  “I love you too, Sophie.” The words were so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “I know we still have stuff to work out. We need to talk about . . . Sam.”

  It was a little weird the way Jack talked about himself in the third person, but she thought she understood it. He’d shed that life and started a new one when he became Jack. Sam had been the old him. The truth was, she didn’t care what name he went by as long as he stayed in her life and let her be a part of his. But before they went any further, she needed to get some more stuff off her chest.

  “When you . . . when I thought you died—in Afghanistan—there was so much I wanted to say to you. I had so many regrets. You were the one real friend I had and . . . I’m so sorry for the hateful things I said. I know what I said, but I never actually hated you. I loved you back then, but I felt dirty, ashamed of what had happened to me. I thought you’d eventually realize I wasn’t good enough and push me away, so I pushed you first. I was just trying to survive.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Jack said, his voice rough with emotion.

  “Yes, I do. You were going to war and I know you had that ring for me and . . . I was horrible. Everything I said to you—” Her voice broke off as a tear escaped.

  “Stop. You were seventeen, hurting, and dealing with being raped. I never held what you said against you. I might have hated myself, but never you.”

  Her throat was tight with so many years of regret, but now it seemed they were getting a second chance. Or she prayed they were. “So what do we do now?”

  A slow, seductive smile spread across Jack’s face. “Whatever we want. I quit my job.”

  Her eyes widened at his admission. “You love what you do.”

  “No. I love you. This is all I’ve ever known, Sophie. I want . . . Hell, I don’t know what I want. I never thought much about it until you were back in my life. The only thing I do know is that I want to come home to you every night and wake up to your face every morning. Everything else, we’ll figure out together.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held a finger to her lips.

  “I’ll give it a year. If I’m miserable, I’ll find a job in some sort of law enforcement, but I’m not going back to this kind of lifestyle.”

  “This is a big decision to make so suddenly.” Despite her protest, joy pulsed through her at the thought of starting a life with him.

  “This is the easiest decision I’ve ever made.”

  The sincerity in his voice slammed through her. Smiling to herself that they’d been lucky enough to get a second chance against all odds, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his.

  The kiss was tentative at first, and then his animalistic side took over. Their lips and tongues collided in a hungry frenzy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair, until a loud slam pulled them apart. They both turned at the sound.

  Wesley shook his head and stepped past them. “I didn’t leave the two of you alone so you could go at it on the floor of my office.”

  Sophie fought the heat she felt creeping up her cheeks. Jack, however, was completely unfazed.

  In one swoop he gathered the rest of her things, shoved them in her purse, and took her hand before standing. “Don’t worry, we’re getting out of here.”

  With her hand clasped in Jack’s, Sophie’s heart swelled to ridiculous proportions. They were both jobless and she had no clue what the future held, but this was the happiest she’d been in her entire life.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Sophie glanced up as the bell to her and Jack’s shop jingled. A dark-haired man with a full beard and mustache walked in. He wore a Rusty T-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops.

  He looked harmless enough, but she was thankful she had the counter as a barrier between them. “Are you interested in renting a Jet Ski or chartering one of our boats?”

  Glancing around, the man cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Actually I was wondering if you guys were hiring.”

  Instinctively she glanced out the open window. Jack was busy tying up two of the Jet Skis a couple of college students had just returned. “We’re not hiring right now, but in the next three months we’re looking to. Do you want to fill out an application?”

  He nodded enthusiastically, so she pulled out the standard form and slid it across the counter. In any other place it would be inappropriate to wear board shorts while looking for a job, but life was a lot more laid-back in the Keys.

  As the man left the store, the phone rang. She grabbed it on the second ring. “Island Rentals, how can I help you?”

  “Sophie?”

  “Uh, yes?” She pressed a hand to her stomach at Wesley’s voice. They hadn’t heard from him in almost six months. The last time he called, he’d tried to convince Jack to come back to work. She was still pretty pissed about that. “What do you want?”

  He chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m not calling to bug Jack. I’m calling to ask you a favor. My niece is going to the Keys for spring break with a couple friends and I wanted to k
now if you could cut her a deal for some Jet Skis one afternoon.”

  “That won’t be a problem. Does she need a place to stay?” They had a small guesthouse above their garage, as most houses in Key West did. It gave guests, and them, complete privacy. Not that they’d had any guests except Hannah. And she’d stayed in their house.

  “No, she’s staying with friends, but if you could keep an eye out for her, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Just e-mail Jack all the information on her and we’ll watch out for her.”

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as they disconnected, Jack walked in. His face broke into a relaxed smile when they made eye contact. Something he seemed to be doing more and more every day. “You about ready to take lunch, babe?”

  “Yes—I’m starving.” She grabbed her purse and rounded the counter.

  Before she’d taken two steps, Jack grasped her hips and pulled her close, holding on to her as if his life depended on it. Tingles shot down to her toes as he ran his tongue over hers in erotic strokes.

  When he pulled away she immediately missed his touch. “What was that for?”

  “I think we should take lunch at the house.” His words were a seductive growl and let her know exactly what he had in mind for “lunch.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Somehow she managed to rasp out the words, though it was hard to even find her voice. A year later and he still made her knees weak with just one look.

  For the first time in her life she knew exactly where she belonged. In Jack’s arms was the only place she wanted to be.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Even though writing is a solitary profession, getting a book published takes an amazing team and I’m grateful to have so many wonderful people to support me. First, thanks to my editor, Danielle Perez, for pushing me to make this the best book possible. I’d also like to thank Christina Brower, Courtney Landi, Katie Anderson, and the rest of the team at NAL for all their behind-the-scenes work. Publishing a book truly is a team effort. I’m also very thankful to my agent extraordinaire, Jill Marsal, for always being in my corner.

  Kari Walker, Laura Wright, Cynthia Eden, and Carolyn Crane, I’d be lost without you ladies! I’m lucky to call you friends. Another great big thank-you for my husband, sister, and parents, who have always supported my decision to become a writer—long before I actually finished that first book. For my readers, you guys are amazing and I hope you love this new series as much as I do! Your e-mail and kind words mean more than you’ll ever know. Last, but never least, I’m grateful to God for so many wonderful opportunities and never-ending support.

  Don’t miss the next thrilling novel in the

  Deadly Ops series from Katie Reus,

  coming in summer 2014 from Signet Eclipse.

  Maria Cervantes grasped the interior door handle of the SUV limo as her family’s regular driver took what would hopefully be the last sharp turn of the night. Either he’d forgotten how to drive or she was sicker than she’d realized. Every little bump in the road made her afraid she’d puke. After being laid up in bed with flulike symptoms for five days and missing work for a week straight—something she’d never done before—she’d been positive she had kicked the nasty stomach bug this morning. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Nausea roiled in her stomach and she swallowed hard, forcing the sickness back down. Just a few hours, she reminded herself. That was all she had to get through; then she could go back home and pass out.

  As the vehicle straightened, then slowed, she peered through the divider. She’d asked the driver to keep the partition down. If she got so sick she needed him to pull over, she didn’t want to waste precious seconds buzzing him. Still, she was clutching one of the empty silver ice buckets she’d snagged from the minibar in case she didn’t have time to warn him.

  “We’re almost there, Ms. Cervantes.” His voice was ridiculously polite despite the fact that she and Nash had known each other for two years.

  She knew why, though. He was annoyed with her for going to this party when she was sick. “I swear to God, if you call me Ms. Cervantes again, I’m going to crawl up there and puke on you. We’re the same age, Nash.”

  “Damn it, Maria—”

  She let out a raspy laugh, loving that she’d gotten Nash Larson to curse, since it was a rarity. He’d been working for her parents for two years. Before he started working for them he’d done private security work for a year, and for eight years before that he’d been in the Army. Maria’s father, Riel, had needed an outside security company to oversee one of his projects in Mexico two years ago and Nash had been assigned. After witnessing the man at work, her father had snatched Nash away with a hefty pay raise and better benefits. Now he was more or less a personal bodyguard/driver/fix-all man for her parents. While her dad often used Nash as extra security when traveling on business, he hadn’t for his current trip since it was so short.

  Nash let out a growl of frustration as the vehicle slowed to stop. Maria barely paid attention as she heard him talking to one of the security personnel outside the gated mansion, where a very exclusive party was going on. She didn’t need to listen because she knew he was showing them her elegant gold and cream embossed invitation. If it were any other event, she would have bailed, but Bayside Community Center, where she worked, needed the donations that would come in from tonight. And there was one potential donor in particular Maria desperately wanted to talk to.

  Maria had grown up with incredibly wealthy parents and they’d taught her to give back. They weren’t exactly happy with her chosen profession, but they supported her career as a counselor. After getting a bachelor’s degree in behavioral psychology and a master’s in counseling, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She was also the acting director of the community center, since her predecessor had suddenly retired a couple of months ago. Until they found a replacement, she was in charge. She’d thought the added responsibility would be overwhelming, but Maria found she liked the challenge.

  Since there was no way her parents would have let her arrive at the Westwood gala driving her Prius, she had a chauffeur. Any other night it would have been annoying, but there was no way she could operate heavy machinery right now. She’d stopped taking her over-the-counter antinausea medicine so she wouldn’t be drowsy but the side effect was that she was now nauseated. She was just impressed she’d managed to get dressed on her own.

  The Westwood family wasn’t originally from Miami, but California. They liked to do things over the top and a bit garish, but Maria didn’t care. They were friendly, donated to local charities, and in addition to three food banks and another community center in Miami, Bayside was one of the recipients of the donations from tonight. Which meant Maria had to be here. She was the public face for Bayside and she took her position very seriously. Though it wasn’t the only reason she was here. She also had to meet Joann Hood, an insanely wealthy woman who wanted to “talk numbers” in regard to donating money to Bayside. And this was the only time the well-known, eccentric woman could meet Maria. So here she was.

  “You look like shit, Maria. As soon as we stop I’m texting your mother to let her know I’m taking you home.” Nash’s expression in the rearview mirror was almost scolding.

  Despite their both being twenty-nine, he sometimes seemed light-years older. She put a hand to her unsettled stomach before saying, “One hour. That’s all I need.” Or she hoped it was. “And I’ll be fine. Just don’t take me through the main entrance.” There would be a silly red carpet and photographers hoping to snap shots of some of the politicians and celebrities who might come. She definitely wasn’t newsworthy, but there would be an extra crush of people there and she knew there was another entrance.

  “I wasn’t planning to,” he growled. “And I’m not letting the valet take the SUV. I’ll be waiting in the parking area. Call or text when you’re ready and I’ll pick you up.” The driveway leading to the main house was long and winding. Instead of following the drive to the left, where it c
urved, Nash continued straight until they reached one of the service entrances. There was more security there, but after a quick conversation with someone Nash clearly knew, they were allowed past.

  “You know him?” she asked, glad her voice sounded stronger. If she could get some decent face time tonight, it meant she’d get an invite to next year’s party and Bayside would be on the list to continue receiving donations. Since it was the first year she’d received an invitation, she wasn’t taking any chances of insulting the Westwoods by not showing up. With the economy the way it was, Maria had to look out for her kids. That community center was the only form of family some of them had and she refused to let them down.

  “Yeah, when I heard you were sick I called the security team and found out who was on duty. I still don’t think you should be here.”

  Maria sighed, not bothering to respond to Nash’s comment as he pulled up next to a catering van and parked. “Didn’t you used to work for the same security company as that guy?” Even though the man at the front gate wore a suit, the one who’d just stopped them had been wearing a black polo shirt with a familiar security logo and cargo pants. He’d also had a gun strapped to his belt, much like the police wore. Definitely not trying to hide what his job was for the evening.

  “You know I did. Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Argue all you want. It’s a battle you’ll lose.”

  He muttered something under his breath as he got out of the vehicle. She straightened her long, violet gown and glanced down at herself. While she hadn’t been able to do much with her hair other than curl it and leave it loose around her shoulders, her dress was so gorgeous it wouldn’t matter. Before she could open the door, it swung open and Nash held out a hand for her.