Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4)

by Victoria Paige

  “Guys!” Charly jumped up from the couch and strode over to greet them. She gave him a hug and then pulled back to stare at him accusingly. “You disappeared from the taco party. Antonio and I haven’t been able to thank you properly.”

  “No thanks needed. Just doing my job,” he said.

  She gave him a squeeze on the arm, before transferring her attention to Bristow and gave the SEAL a tight hug.

  Antonio strolled over to them. “Garrison, heard you were recent guests at a Ukrainian dungeon.”

  “I’ve had better accommodations,” he deadpanned. “Perfect timing. We could use your muscles to move shit.”

  “So it seems,” Antonio answered absentmindedly. His attention was on his new bride who was still chatting animatedly with Bristow and Roarke. Andrade moved closer to Charly, clasping her shoulder, and drawing her against his chest.

  A move John was familiar with. He’d seen it with Roarke, he’d seen it with Migs, and John remembered a couple of times he’d done it too.

  Possessiveness.

  This burning, intense desire to be the source of your woman’s every joy and the recipient of that expression that depicted said joy.

  Garrison angled his body toward Nadia who gave him a raised brow. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to his side, touching his lips to her brow.

  “I can’t believe it,” Charly gasped, extricating herself from her husband’s hold and walking up to them, eyes wide, gaze transfixed. “Bristow said something was brewing between you two—”

  Bristow coughed. “It’s past brewing—”

  John shot the ginger-haired SEAL a glare. “And Bristow has a big mouth.” He was the only one on the team who knew Nadia was pregnant, but John had a feeling that secret was not going to remain a secret for much longer.

  “So did you grovel?” Charly asked.

  “Why should he grovel?” Nadia leaned away from him and shot him a suspicious look. “Is there something I don’t know that you’ve done?”

  “Minha Linda.” Antonio retrieved his wife, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Are we causing trouble here?”

  “Oh …” Charly laughed. “Not really.” Her eyes dipped to Nadia. “We were wondering where you were when the Z-9 series was happening because Hank was having trouble—”

  “Hey, I managed as best I could,” Bristow protested.

  “You seem to be digging your hole deeper, gatinha,” Antonio drawled. Yet in the way he was gazing fondly at his wife, there was no doubt the bastard was smitten.

  “Soooo,” Charly addressed Nadia. “We asked where you were, and Garrison said you quit. Everyone came to the conclusion that he’d been an asshole to you… which he confirmed.” She paused and glanced at John. “Or was it because you didn’t deny it?”

  “Don’t fucking remember.” John shifted Nadia to the front of him, his arms around her in a full embrace, to keep her from bolting just in case the doctor let her mouth continue to run. Christ, he wasn’t expecting to get roasted. His eyes lifted to Andrade. “Please rein in your wife before I end up sleeping on the couch.”

  Charly grinned and shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “Hey. Any food?” Bristow interjected, and then winked at John in a move to change the subject, ushering the crowd at the entrance further into the house. “We’re starving.”

  Not that he needed saving from the feisty doctor, but John didn’t want to rehash the Mexico thing. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments.

  “Lasagna in the oven,” Nadia said.

  “You cooked?” Roarke asked.

  “No,” Nadia replied. “I reheated. I’m quite impressed. The freezer came fully stocked with food that can feed an army.”

  She was about to follow into the kitchen when John pulled her back.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We’re okay, right?”

  Her brows furrowed. “You’re talking about the Mexico thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  Arguing from the kitchen interrupted her reply. Roarke and Bristow were at odds with Clyde and Antonio on whether the lasagna was ready.

  “The timer says ten minutes more,” Roarke said.

  “The cheese is bubbling, and it’s browned on top,” Antonio said. “It’s done.”

  “What do you know? You have a housekeeper,” Bristow shot back.

  “Antonio has become an expert in reheating food,” Charly defended her husband.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Nadia muttered and made to go to the kitchen again.

  John held her back. “Let them handle it.”

  She blew out a breath and relented.

  “It is ready.” Clyde put in his two cents. “I wouldn’t trust the timer because Nadia set it. She can’t cook, much less reheat stuff.”

  “Hey, I can reheat stuff,” Nadia protested. “Some.” She added under her breath.

  John waited patiently for her attention to return to him. Somehow, he had a feeling Nadia was doing it on purpose to mess with him.

  He was right. When she glanced up at him, there was a mischievous glint in her eyes and her mouth curved coyly. “Maybe Charly has a point. You were pretty mean. I need to make you grovel.”

  He looped an arm around her and murmured into her ear. “As long as you don’t deny me access to this body. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  John grinned when she shuddered against him.

  The noise around them seemed to have died down, and when both of them looked around, all eyes were riveted on them.

  Stephen had risen from the couch, but a faint smile was playing on his lips. Arthur and Clyde were looking on like indulgent uncles. Declan, Bristow, and Antonio were smirking. And Charly? Charly was staring at them with a goofy smile on her face as if she’d witnessed the most romantic scene.

  Fuck.

  For the first time ever, heat rose up his cheeks.

  “Oh my god, I’m swooning,” Charly called from the kitchen.

  Declan said something about taking a video for Gabby to see.

  Bristow said something about Roarke’s wife already knowing that Garrison’s had the moves.

  “Fuck,” John muttered.

  “John, are you blushing?” the woman in his arms beamed at him, flashing her genuine Nadia smile.

  He grinned. “I believe I am.”

  28

  Nadia opened the door to Gabby and Kelso.

  “You’re late for the moving-in party,” she told them. The guys had worked efficiently to unload the U-Haul, and they were lounging around the backyard patio, drinking beer. Her dad still got tired easily, so Nadia made sure he was comfortable in the bedroom before she continued unpacking items in the kitchen.

  “We come bearing pizza,” Kelso said, his biceps bulging from the weight of the boxes. Gabby was carrying two smaller ones.

  “Hurry in before you drop them.” Nadia waved them through. She closed the door and followed them to the dining room. “Are you done with your shredding phase?”

  Kelso lowered the pizza on the dining table. “No. Just taking a cheat day.”

  “I’m taking one with him,” Gabby winked.

  Declan took that moment to stride in probably getting a heads-up text from his wife. He went directly to Gabby and reeled her in for a kiss. “How was your day?” he asked.

  Awww, Nadia swooned.

  “Evan Wagner has been a drag,” Gabby declared, wrapping her arms around Declan’s torso. “I need a hug.”

  Her husband dutifully obliged. “Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

  “I wish. But I don’t want to get you into trouble,” she pouted. The dynamics between them were cute. Gabby could be a no-nonsense cop but had no problem giving up control to seek comfort from her hot and protective hubby when they were among close friends.

  Kelso said, “Wagner denied knowledge specifically about any device. He said since the Vovks were close business associates he didn’t see any problem with their request to use the office spa
ces beside the Club Sochi basement.”

  “How did the search of the premises go?” Nadia asked.

  John, Bristow, Antonio, and Charly took that moment to walk into the house from the patio.

  “Still looking for clues that may lead to Sally’s whereabouts. She hasn’t returned to her house for sure,” Kelso said, and then he smiled. “Don’t worry. Your place is with your dad. Let us worry about finding her.”

  She blew out a breath. “How’s her mother?”

  “We have a man undercover at the hospital just in case she shows up.”

  “So far, bills are getting paid,” Nadia said. “Any hopes of her coming out of a coma?”

  “I can dig deeper,” Bristow offered. “I know John has given you the access, but we agreed it might be better for plausible deniability if anyone questions how you came into the medical information.”

  “Oh.” Kelso slipped out a phone and handed it to Nadia. “You may need this. I’ve sent Sally several messages encouraging her to turn herself in. That we can help her.”

  “No response?” She asked it more as a statement than a question.

  Kelso shook his head. “We put out news of the apartment home invasion. Stated that your dad and Dugal were hurt.”

  “Trying to guilt her?” Nadia sighed.

  “Yep.”

  She crossed her arms. “I have complicated feelings about Sally.”

  “We may have an insight of what’s going on,” John said. “We’ve noticed the influx of high-ranking mob bosses coming into the country. Dmitry Vovk was spotted in LA just last night, and he wasn’t hiding his movements.”

  “Sicilian crime families were seen in Vegas,” Bristow added. ”And Levi said Russian Bratva lieutenants were seen crawling the clubs on Spring Street.”

  “First I’ve heard of this,” Kelso said, face turning concerned. “Any idea why?”

  John and Bristow’s attention cut to Antonio.

  “Something big is happening in LA,” the businessman said. “I’ve heard noise about it from my associates inside the cartel and the Sicilian mafia.”

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Gabby said.

  “A mob convention,” Antonio said.

  Nadia’s eyes widened. “A mob convention?”

  John nodded. “The disks we retrieved from Ukraine yielded interesting business dealings between Wagner and the Vovks. Revenant Films refused to work with the mob, and we’re thinking Maxim and Wagner originally hatched up a plan to cause an incident at StreamCon and derail the production company”—he looked at Gabby—“your production company.”

  “The board has discussed this,” Gabby replied. “We refused to work with the Vovks.”

  “But with Maxim dead, Morris was left in charge of the Crown-Key,” Nadia speculated. “The traffic incident was meant to be a test of its capability. StreamCon is going to be held in the convention center which is located in Sequoia Global City … and, oh crap!” SGC was a high concept urban development where the utilities and banking were computerized and highly interlinked. “This is bad. The Key can potentially shut down that city with just one malware.”

  “Not to mention if we’re looking for persons of interest, they’ll be in costumes,” Gabby pointed out.

  “Fuck,” Kelso muttered. “They could dress as a mobster and say they’re emulating that mob film that won the Oscar last year. These sons of bitches are going to use StreamCon to hide their activities since many of the participants are associates. They’re going to blend.” The detective studied Nadia. “Fancy going undercover? This gig would be right up your alley.”

  Excitement pulsed through her veins. The idea that she would be doing what she loved in the line of duty seemed to be the perfect storm.

  But when John clasped her shoulders and gently turned her toward him with an apology in his eyes, she held her breath, knowing she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

  “I think you should sit this one out.”

  Nadia threw up her arms and broke his hold, putting some distance between them. John wanted to yank her back in his arms and keep her there as he wrestled between his emotions and the job that needed to get done. It was a murky path, and one that blindsided him.

  “Oh hell no,” she snarled. “You do not get to make that choice for me.”

  Gabby got in between them, more in John’s face, eyes shooting warning sparks. “She’s right. Not your decision. She works for me and Kelso. It’s an LAPD op. Don’t fucking overstep.”

  His mouth flattened, and two simple words forced through clenched teeth. “She’s pregnant.”

  The air around the room stilled, and Gabby’s mouth gaped. “What?” Her brows shot up, and a look of incredulity crossed her face.

  “Holy fuck,” Declan chuckled, clapping Bristow on the shoulder. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  The SEAL was just grinning his shit-eating grin.

  “You’re pregnant?” Charly exclaimed while Antonio had a smirk plastered on his face.

  John closed his eyes briefly. Fucking fantastic.

  Kelso folded his arms and stared at Nadia. “I’m kinda hurt you didn’t tell me, nerd girl.”

  Gabby wheeled around and glared at her partner. “Lay off. It’s her prerogative when to share.” She glanced back over her shoulder and smirked at John. “Although the baby daddy jumped the gun.”

  “More like he should’ve holstered the gun,” Kelso coughed.

  Everyone started laughing.

  Roarke had tears in his eyes and couldn’t hide his mirth. Fucker.

  “I’m sorry,” Roarke wheezed, and John hoped he choked on his next breath. “I mean, you’re the most hardcore, mission-oriented operative among all of us.” He wiped the corners of his eyes.

  “Wait a minute,” Kelso interjected. “You’re not with him because of this, right? Because—”

  “Stop right there, fucker—”

  “All right, everyone calm down,” Bristow stepped in. “We have a case to discuss.”

  “I agree,” Nadia said, but John didn’t like the cloudiness that descended on her face or the way she was staring at him. “We have several issues here and it seems it’s more yours than mine because I trust you to do your work. Question is, do you trust me to do mine?”

  “That’s not a fair question,” John growled.

  “Oh, is it because I’m pregnant?” Nadia challenged. “Because, as far as I know, women have been pregnant since the beginning of time, and they’re quite capable of working.” She flared her arms down her sides. “I’m not even showing yet.”

  “How far along are you?” Kelso asked.

  “Almost five weeks,” Nadia replied.

  “There are things we need to consider,” Kelso’s eyes shifted to John. “But it’s up to Nadia if she wants to do it. Clear?”

  His jaw clenched tight, as he bit back the urge to roar at everyone. He reined in the urge to lock Nadia away in a room, but judging from the stubborn set of her jaw, it was a losing battle. He gave a tight nod.

  Everyone moved to the patio area, and the fire pit was lit for another chilly evening. The pizza seemed to mellow Nadia’s mood to a point that John was able to sit by her side without a glare coming his way. He’d always been high-handed, more so after hearing the plan. His outburst asking her not to go on the mission bothered him, but he was slowly accepting how Nadia had become the center of his universe. Wasn’t this what he wanted—her confident in her skills? But it was her skill to run an op safe in a room far away from danger, not in the middle of one.

  Turnabout was fair play, apparently.

  He stared at her profile, her features basking in the firelight. She was beautiful beyond words and vulnerable. The mother of his child. He was coming to terms with each tumultuous emotion that was wrenched out of him each time he worried about her safety. Was he in love? An emotion he’d scorned, that he’d promised he’d never feel for a woman. Was this what it was? He’d damn everyone else, every other mission object
ive to protect Nadia. He would always choose her. He would find a way to do his job, but fuck, he would always choose her. And that was the main directive he’d assigned to all the compartments of his brain. He glanced around the men who’d gathered around the fire—Roarke and Andrade. They would do ruthless things to protect the women they loved. He understood Walker now too.

  “It’s Walker’s wedding today,” John murmured.

  “I thought the man was already married,” Gabby said.

  “It was a Vegas wedding the first time,” Andrade smirked.

  Charly slapped him across the chest with the back of her hand and told everyone, “I find this reaffirmation of their vows very romantic.”

  Andrade gathered her in his arms. “More romantic than the wedding I gave you?”

  His new bride leaned away and smiled at him. “No one can be more romantic than you.”

  Bristow coughed. “Challenge thrown.”

  “Why weren’t any of you invited to Migs and Ariana’s wedding?” Nadia asked.

  “They wanted to keep it in the family,” Bristow said. “Man, but I do like Mexican food.”

  Roarke shot him a look. “You like all kinds of food.”

  “I concur,” Antonio said dryly.

  “Bristow needs a woman who can cook,” Nadia teased.

  “Don’t need one or the headache.” He winked. “There’s always takeout.”

  “Don’t let Dad hear you about takeout,” Nadia warned. “Or you’ll never hear the end of it. Finish the pizza. Let’s hide the boxes. Though I think I’ll save a few pieces for Clyde.”

  “Where are the MoMoS?” Kelso asked.

  “MoMoS?” Charly asked.

  “The merry old men of SkyeLark,” everyone who knew the acronym chorused in unison.

  “Stephen retired early,” John said. “Arthur and Clyde turned in after the first beer. It’s been a long day for them …” He frowned when more than a few heads tilted his way in a baffled look. “What?”