Guarding Kinsley: Brotherhood Protectors World (Texas Guardians Book 3)

by Barb Han

  “My name is Alicia and I’ll be your decoy.” Alicia was around Kinsley’s height and weight and had similar-colored hair. The thought of being replaced so easily struck Kinsley as odd. But then the last couple of hours had introduced her into a world that she probably knew existed on some level but she’d only seen it in the movies. Action films weren’t even her cup of tea, so she really felt out of place.

  “I’m Kinsley.” She offered a handshake and was surprised at the strength in Alicia’s grip. Although, she shouldn’t be. The woman might be similarly built to Kinsley, but Alicia had muscle definition. A stab of jealousy struck at thinking Alicia worked with Gabriel. Or maybe it wasn’t Alicia specifically. Maybe it was just beautiful women who clearly made a commitment to the gym.

  Kinsley’s normal outfit might consist of yoga pants but she rarely made time to work out.

  “Can I borrow your blazer?” Alicia asked.

  “Um, sure.” It took a second for the reason to dawn on Kinsley as she shrugged out of her jacket. She held it in her hand. “Hold on. I’m not sure I want to give this to you. I mean, if someone’s out there they might think you’re me.”

  Alicia smiled. She motioned toward one of her colleagues who handed over a thin vest and it dawned on Kinsley that had been the plan all along.

  “I’ll be safe wearing this. It’s made of a special bulletproof material.” Alicia’s warm smile made Kinsley feel guilty for resenting the woman a few seconds ago. Kinsley really was out of her league in every sense of the word and seeing Gabriel again toyed with her emotions. “There’s one for you as well.”

  A second one was produced. Kinsley handed over her navy blazer in exchange for the vest. It was surprisingly light and nothing like what she’d seen on the TV shows featuring police officers. Then again, this was most likely some kind of top-secret material worn only by special agents and spies…spies?

  “What size shoe do you wear?” Alicia asked.

  “Seven. Why?”

  “Mind if we trade shoes?” When Kinsley really thought about it hers were pretty obvious. Besides, it would be hard to run in them. Alicia’s were flats.

  Kinsley took hers off, with some relief, and handed them over. The shoes she slipped on her feet were at least a size too big, but she could make them work. Alicia struggled with the heels but crammed her feet into them anyway.

  “No one will notice from far away as long as I can walk straight.” Alicia demonstrated and Kinsley had to admit the woman pulled it off.

  She must’ve looked at her strangely because Alicia added, “I go undercover all the time and I’ve been in much worse. These aren’t bad.” She took a few more steps as though to prove it.

  It was odd seeing so many people comfortable with guns. Weapons were tucked into shoulder holsters. Kinsley had grown up in the Dallas area and was familiar with a shotgun, at least enough to aim toward a possible intruder but she’d never acquired a comfort with it.

  When she had a minute to collect her thoughts, she had a lot of questions for Gabriel. An annoying little voice picked this time to remind her that she had no right to ask him anything. Her initial shock at him showing up out of seemingly nowhere was fading and the reality that she was going to spend a few uncomfortable days with him settled in.

  It would only take days to sort this out. Right? Kinsley couldn’t even imagine this taking longer than that. She had a home in Maine, a place to get back to.

  Damn the voice reminding her that she’d be an easy target alone in her home.

  Would she ever feel safe again?

  Gabriel excelled at being all-business. He kept his head down and took his work seriously. It had made him the best at what he did.

  He’d sacrificed having a life outside of work in order to maintain laser focus and keep him and his buddies alive during critical missions. He was fine with the choices he’d made. So why was seeing Kinsley again throwing him off kilter?

  The safe house was the pool house of the guy who invented Lasik surgery. The University Park setting was perfect. The place was only a couple of streets away from a university. The SUV carrying Alicia had driven to the east exit. Both vehicles left at the same time and went in opposite directions.

  Once inside the SUV, Gabriel instructed Kinsley to keep a low profile and she shot him a look that said she didn’t even want to think about what that meant. He’d dealt with plenty of civilians before in emergency situations. He’d seen that same stamp of shock and fear on their faces and it always struck him, brought out his compassionate side. Seeing that look in Kinsley’s eyes was a gut punch.

  Gabriel had years of experience and training at shit-hitting-the-fan scenarios. He handled his adrenaline bursts using techniques honed during fourteen years of field work.

  Kinsley was different. She’d been quiet for the past ten minutes and some of that had to do with her trying to process what she’d seen and experienced. He wasn’t sure how much of her current state of shock had to do with seeing him again. Him showing up out of the blue under the circumstances had to have delivered a blow.

  Seeing the scar that ran along her jawline had hit him like a two-by-four. She ran her finger along its edges looking self-conscious and Gabriel had to suppress the urge to cover her hand with his and tell her how beautiful she was. He didn’t care about the scar. It did nothing to take away from her incredible looks. But the physical aspect wasn’t what he couldn’t forget. Her intelligence and sharp wit, her sense of humor. Those, in addition to her outward appearance, were the real draws.

  Gabriel kept vigilant watch to make sure no one had followed them. Having a five-man team assembled by the time he got to Dallas had been a huge help. The crew had tapped into their resources, which had given them all the support at the Presidential Library they’d needed. He realized just how differently this whole mission could’ve gone if the team hadn’t shown up.

  Within ten minutes the SUV had navigated the tree-lined streets of million-dollar houses and found its way to the gate of the University Park mansion owned by Walter Cobb.

  The driver punched in the temporary code he’d been given. Gabriel had called in a huge favor to pull off this safe house for Kinsley. Having her secure and comfortable would go a long way toward restoring peace in his own mind. An annoying little voice said it was all the things he couldn’t give her years ago. Was it guilt? Maybe. Gabriel didn’t have time to analyze the driving force behind his decisions in the last handful of hours.

  The driver navigated the winding path through the gardens and behind the main house toward the back of the pool house. He parked on the parking pad and hopped out to secure the area. Gabriel had stayed at the Cobb’s pool house once before and knew the layout well. The place was bigger than his cabin which didn’t say much. He lived in one-room cabin in Colorado. His house was secluded and big enough for one. For how little he stayed there it was perfect.

  “What’s taking so long?” Kinsley final asked. Her voice cracked and he realized her throat was probably dry. Stress had a way of depleting the body in every way.

  He leaned forward and pulled a bottled water from his rucksack.

  “Shouldn’t be long now.” He handed the bottle to her.

  She stared at it like it was a bomb about to detonate.

  “Take it. There’s nothing in there but water.” He blew out a frustrated breath. He realized building trust might be difficult under the circumstances, but he didn’t think she’d question a basic gesture. He didn’t want to admit how much that was a knife to the chest.

  It was Kinsley’s turn to blow out a breath, but she took the offering.

  She’d taken a couple of swallows when the driver came back and opened the door.

  “All clear, sir.” Gabriel didn’t bother asking the man’s name. They both knew he wouldn’t give his real one anyway, which made everything easier. Working with professionals was easy. Everyone understood the risks and had accepted them. Civilians were a different story when they were plucked out of their
comfortable world where the most danger they faced was morning rush hour traffic.

  “Thank you,” he said to the man clad in all-black, ushering Kinsley out of the SUV.

  Gabriel put his hand on her shoulder. Kinsley had grown into a knock-out but it was more than her looks that struck him in places he knew weren’t good for him. She had one of the sharpest minds and he could almost see it working while she sat in the SUV. When they were young, she’d had a quick wit and warm smile that had been magnet to steel.

  Part of him wanted to know if time had changed the things about her that he’d fallen in love with. Yeah, he’d been head-over-heels in a puppy-love pit of quicksand all those years ago. He was a grown man now with experience. And a hardened heart, an annoying voice in the back of his head said.

  Kinsley’s cautious eyes and tentative gaze told him she wasn’t living the life he’d thought she would be by now. He’d already glanced at her ring finger when he’d had time to catch his breath earlier. Relief had washed over him that she wasn’t married. He already knew she hadn’t changed her last name but it would be just like her to want to maintain her independence after marriage, so he couldn’t count on that. Divorced? The vise around his chest had eased its grip slightly when he saw no gold band. It was selfish of him to want her to be single. The idea of his Kinsley with another man would be enough to keep him awake a thousand nights. It was probably the fact that he didn’t have someone waiting back home while on missions that made him revert to the last woman he’d loved when his thoughts wandered.

  Even now he didn’t want to consider the possibility that there was someone special in her life. Aside from the fact that he had no designs on her and she’d made it clear that she thought they were better off apart.

  What did he expect? Her to throw her arms around his neck in that way only she could and beg him to take her home with him?

  His mind really was playing tricks because her wary gaze said she didn’t want to talk to him let alone relive the good old days. Still, he felt a sense of debt toward her that he hadn’t been able to shake in fourteen years. Would helping her now finally give him the release he needed, that he craved?

  Gabriel was all about paying his dues and wiping the slate clean. Saving her just might free him from the fourteen-year nightmare he’d been reliving. The one that mired him in guilt for driving the car off the road in an accident that had nearly taken her life.

  Gabriel let a chuckle rumble up from deep in his chest. Now he was seeking absolution from a woman who’d turned her back on him fourteen years ago, a woman who hadn’t responded to one letter in more than year when he’d shipped off?

  He needed to get his head checked for that one.

  Kinsley walked in the door after he opened it and stepped aside.

  “Should I even ask how you know the person who owns this place?” She sounded tired as she surveyed the space with a careful eye.

  “No. You should, however, be grateful that I found a safe place to bunk for the night and enough security to keep The Russian from a) finding you and b) hurting you.” He didn’t mean to come off as a jerk.

  “I am.” The quietness in her voice struck him like a physical blow.

  “Hey,” he started but her hand came up to stop him.

  Chapter 6

  “I just want to take a hot shower and curl up in a corner somewhere. I really don’t want to have a conversation right now.” Kinsley’s brain was in overdrive and she was too tired to process information, which made for an interesting combination. Her arms practically hung at her sides, an indication of just how exhausted she was. Now that they were safe, she needed time to herself in order to recharge. Being in Gabriel’s presence threw her off balance anyway. There was still so much chemistry pinging between them and she chalked it up to old feelings resurfacing.

  Gabriel pointed toward an adjacent room. “The bathroom’s that way. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  Kinsley walked away into the other room. The pool house looked more like a beach house. The main living room was open concept. A pair of white cloth-covered couches flanked a granite fireplace. White wainscoting covered the space and there were perfectly placed accent pieces in blue. The rooms had a low-key elegant feel.

  The bedroom was separated by a pair of glass doors. The room itself was stunning. A large king size bed centered the elegant space. More white. The bed looked like one of those heavenly beds seen in higher priced hotel rooms.

  Everything about this day had been surreal not the least of which was ending up spending the night in a millionaire—no, billionaire?—’s pool house. So, nothing mattered to her more than a hot shower. It wasn’t lost on her how little she knew about Gabriel as a grown man. She’d been frustrated with him for fourteen years, holding him to the standard of the person she’d known at eighteen.

  Kinsley kicked off the flats that were a size too big and her toes sank into the plush carpeting. They didn’t carry this at one of those DIY chains she’d frequented since buying her small home in Maine. She didn’t mind buying the fixer-upper and putting in some sweat equity. The problem came in the form of time. She had none. So, there was still yellow-ish linoleum from the 1970’s in her kitchen. She’d started a couple of projects and given up when they proved too hard to do by herself no matter how much one those big box stores had promised her that she could do it. The only things running up were her credit cards and list of contractors.

  An odd thought struck. Would she ever be able to go home again?

  Did the fact that The Russian had planned to target her in front of the presidential library play into anything? Or was that the first place he knew where she’d be? Why not just set up camp at her home in Virginia and pick her off through her kitchen window?

  That was a morbid thought.

  The first part was worth considering. Maybe there was something to the fact that the person targeting her had scheduled the hit in that location.

  Kinsley showered and put on the white cotton bathrobe. She tied the belt tight and walked into the adjacent room, needing a caffeine boost. No matter how tired her body was her mind wouldn’t calm down enough to sleep.

  Immediately, she was struck by Gabriel’s size. He stood over the round kitchen table, intently studying papers and—she looked closer—a copy of her book. Seeing him in action earlier had been impressive. He was commanding, serious, focused. His body reflected his disciplined approach to training, to life.

  If she’d met him today for the first time, she would’ve wanted to get to know him better. Even though they’d been close as teens—as close as they could be because she’d always felt him hold back even then—she was looking at a stranger. It was such an odd feeling to realize that she knew someone but didn’t.

  He must’ve looked up because he said, “Coffee’s ready if you want a cup.”

  “That sounds like heaven actually,” she said.

  “You want to take a seat?” His gaze locked onto hers and it was the first time she’d seen a hint of uncertainty.

  “Okay.” She moved to the table ever aware that she was completely naked underneath the bathrobe. Granted, it fell below her calves and she’d tightened it all the way up to her neck. But still.

  “You like cream and sugar?” he asked. She tried not to watch the athletic grace with which he moved. His muscles chorded and released, stretching the cotton fabric of his T-shirt across his back as he reached for cups.

  “Two sugars,” she said.

  “At least one thing hasn’t changed.” He said it so low she almost didn’t hear. Did he remember how she took her coffee after all these years?

  When everyone else went crazy over those poured-on sugar lattes with caramel and any number of other sweet things poured in, she’d always been a strong coffee with a little cream and two sugars girl.

  He turned and caught her staring. She immediately dropped her gaze to the Birchwood flooring.

  “I’m sure you have questions.”
He walked to her, standing so close she could feel his body heat. He handed over the mug. Their fingers grazed and pure fire scorched from contact like it had been simmering, ready to strike.

  She nodded and took a sip of the warm brew without making eye contact. The coffee was perfect. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  He stepped away from her and reclaimed his earlier spot. He planted his hands on the table and leaned over the paper. This close, she could see that he’d been scribbling some notes. “I have a guy who is poring over your book to see what could possibly have brought this on. Your friend said you had no idea what was going on, but he was helpful in providing details of threats.”

  “You spoke to Blake?” she quickly asked.

  “Not directly, no.” He looked up at her and he was devastatingly handsome. “He fielded the threats. He’s already read the book and we wanted first impressions. My guy will hopefully find something. As far as Justified goes we don’t know much about them. You know your book better than anyone. What’s in there that could upset a terror cell?”

  She blew out a breath. “I’m a European History teacher. I don’t write about politics, at least, not as in current events. I racked my brain in the shower trying to think what could cause some terrorist group to come after me, to try to silence me but I came up empty. I’m sorry that I’m not more help.”

  “We have a team of people used to dealing with groups like these who are on the job and none of them have discovered a connection yet, either.” He glanced up at her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Kinsley took another sip of coffee. “The location today. I’m assuming that means something to The Russian.”

  Gabriel nodded. “It makes a statement.”

  “They already got my attention. Who else would care?” she asked.

  “The country. A professor is killed on the steps of the presidential library where the nation’s foremost exhibit on terrorism is housed and that doesn’t say we can get you any time, anywhere?” The question was rhetorical. “It’s not The Russian’s typical style. He doesn’t normally do high-profile, which makes me wonder if anything else is at play here.”