Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2)

by Sidney Bristol

  She peered out through the window, mesmerized by the white, fluffy clouds.

  “This is so cool,” she said.

  “Have you never been on a plane before?”

  “Once. When Dad took us to Canada for a thing.” She practically pressed her nose to the glass to get a peek through the clouds at the ground below. The memory of that last flight was so old, she could barely recall how her belly had flip-flopped or the pressure in her ears.

  “Are you serious? You never flew to visit your dad or anything?”

  “No, Dad never let us. He always said it was too dangerous, or we were better off staying home. When he was gone—he was gone and that was it.”

  “What about when he was in Osaka?”

  “He didn’t want us out there.” She’d given up being bitter over the time apart years ago. Her father had reasons, and she didn’t have to agree with them.

  “How long would he be gone for?”

  “Years, months, a lot of time was spent without him.” She shrugged. “It was usually just Mom and me.”

  “Wow.”

  “Considering how alike my dad and I are, it’s probably a good thing we were kept apart.” Hannah shrugged.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Come on, you’ve seen us together.” She leaned on the armrest and sipped her soda.

  “Only once.”

  “What did it remind you of?”

  “Two alley cats screaming at each other.”

  “That’s how it always is. I mean, he’s my dad and I love him, but I can’t stand him, his rules or any of it.”

  “Why’d you never move away?”

  “Mom. When Dad uprooted her from that sleepy little town they grew up in and brought her here, she never really found where she belonged. I can’t leave her. It’s always been mom and me.” Where her father was unyielding, Hannah’s mother was kind and gentle. Hannah had learned more about being a good person simply by watching how her mother treated others than she had at a hundred Sunday school lessons her father conducted. Some people needed a book with rules to tell them how to live. All Hannah needed was her mother.

  “You get that look when you talk about her.”

  “What look?” Hannah’s gaze slid toward Mason.

  “You smile, get this look.” He gestured at her face. “She must be a really great lady.”

  “She is. You should meet her sometime.” Mom would like Mason. Granted, Mom liked everyone, but that was beside the point. Mason was special. “What do you want to do when we land?”

  “Check in, get a lay of the land.” He shrugged.

  “I was able to get the adjoining rooms thing ironed out last night. You sure that’s necessary?” She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed at the separate sleeping arrangement. Yeah, she wanted sex, but she also hadn’t figured out what she should tell Mason. Or if she’d tell him anything at all. Having her own space to retreat to might be a good thing.

  “I’m sure the resort is safe, but I’d prefer to be able to get to you quicker if there is an incident.”

  “What? Like someone’s going to kidnap me?” She rolled her eyes. “The problem with you guys is that you think everyone is out to get you, or someone you know, and we are all in danger. Live a little. Let loose. It’s a vacation, not a job, and you are not my bodyguard.”

  “Hannah...” He stared at the seat in front of him. He had that look...the one where he seemed like he could chew nails.

  “What? You’ve been super quiet this whole time. What gives?” She set her drink down on his tray table and glared at his profile. Was he going back on their talk? Had he changed his mind?

  “I need us to go slow,” he said.

  Who was the virgin here?

  “I didn’t realize anything was moving.”

  “It’s not—yet.” He blew out a breath and shifted, leaning toward her, his gaze latching onto her face. There was a hardness there she hadn’t yet become acquainted with. “I’m going lay it out for you. Your dad is not the most reasonable officer I’ve served under. He can be pretty unhinged at times, but he knows how to use the men he has and where their strengths are. Yes, he threatened me in the past because of you. When your dad finds out I’m here, with you, it’s going to be bad. The question is—how bad?”

  “Seriously?”

  How was it her father could still have a hand in her relationships? She was not a child. It was not his place. It wasn’t fair.

  Rage twisted inside of her. Her dad. Mason would dump her before they’d even had a shot. All because her dad could be a dick.

  “Hannah?” Mason took her hand, his touch cool, a little clammy. “Because of what we do, I have to be careful.”

  “Careful?”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  Mason stared at her.

  What could her dad do? He managed the operational side of Aegis. Which men went where... What jobs they took...

  Oh, God.

  He was kidding, right?

  Her dad was a dick. A grade-A dick, but...that?

  “You think my dad would put you in danger, because of me?” Not just danger—but death. She’d attended the funeral of every man and woman who died as a result of the often dangerous jobs the company was hired to do.

  Mason didn’t respond.

  He didn’t need to.

  Her father wasn’t evil, but where she was concerned, he’d never been rational. She didn’t fall in line. And that made him crazy sometimes.

  “Mason.” She covered her mouth. Why hadn’t she thought of it like that? “We need to go home.”

  “It’s too late.” He squeezed her hand.

  She stared at him.

  He’d known when he said yes that this could happen. That his life could be put in danger. He’d known—and he’d said yes. He could get hurt, or worse, and he’d still come with her. What kind of a selfish bitch was she?

  “Why did you let me talk you into this?” She clung tight to his hand.

  “Because...I couldn’t let you go.”

  She pried her hand from his and sat back in her seat, clutching the armrests until her knuckles hurt. Her father wasn’t evil, he wasn’t a terrible person. His only crime was being a stubborn ass and loving her too much. They had their problems. They fought. But those arguments had never spilled over onto anyone else—until now.

  Mason’s life wasn’t worth proving a point to her father.

  Mason yanked the connecting door open and stalked into his room, Hannah haunting his every step.

  “We can go home. No one would know we even left.” Her voice was strained, and his mind filled in the pinched, anxious cast of her features. It was the same way she’d stared at him for the last hour of the flight.

  Was it seriously news to her that her old man was completely unhinged when it came to his daughter? Stevens wasn’t a bad commanding officer, though his official title was Director of Operations, or some other corporate-sounding bullshit. All the guys knew that in their rank of command, the only two people who could overrule Stevens were the Admiral and Mama Dean, who ran their medical needs. No one crossed the retired surgeon, not even the Admiral, and Mama Dean didn’t interfere until someone had holes punched in them.

  Mason walked his room, which was a mirror image of the one Hannah would be in. The resort wasn’t in Cancun, which was a hundred miles away, but in a newer tourist trap. The reviews had the normal range from glowing to shit-hole. What bothered Mason was the relatively clean bill of health given by the city’s police. He wasn’t buying that report. Not even the big vacation spots had such glowing statements of safety from the cops.

  “Hannah. Stop.” Mason didn’t mean to snap, but he couldn’t take another minute of her spit-balling ideas for how to get home and pretend yesterday had never happened.

  They’d kissed, and damn it, he wanted to kiss her again. But he had to be sure it was what they both wanted.

  He turned around and stopped. Hannah had a white knuckle grip o
n her other hand. God, he was an ass. She was more worried about him than anything else, and here he was practically yelling at her.

  “Come here.” He wrapped her in his arms, rubbing at the tension in her back. She was so tall he could actually rest his cheek against the top of her head.

  Bit by bit, the tightness in her shoulders relaxed and her arms curled around his waist.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of her hair, the shampoo she used, and whatever fruity, spicy scent she’d sprayed herself with. Neither spoke. The only sound in the suite was the whoosh-crash of the waves outside and the faint tunes of a radio somewhere.

  “Too many people know we left today. There’s no point denying we’re here,” he said.

  Thanks to Hannah’s roommate, they’d scored earlier flights, too, so the day wasn’t wasted.

  “Then what do we do?” Her voice broke, the sound yanking at his heart. “I can’t talk to Dad about this. It’ll just make it worse. But if he hears about it from someone else, he’ll be angry, too.”

  “Zain had a few ideas for how to spin me being here to look like a protection detail.” Though Mason had come up with the idea, it was a hollow lie. Maybe Zain would have better luck spinning a truth out of that lie. Because they both knew what would happen if Mason and Hannah were left alone together. He wasn’t going to stop it from happening, and judging by the way she’d locked lips with him, her sense of control was pretty thin, too.

  “So we just—what?” Hannah pulled back, squinting up at him. “Hang out for a couple days and go home?”

  “Pretty much.” Then he’d have to figure out how to pack up all these feelings and ship them off to some far-flung corner of his mind and hope he could forget about the way she kissed, the marks her nails had left in his shoulders... Yeah, he was fucked.

  “That seems like a long, drawn-out, miserable goodbye.” The frown lines around her mouth deepened.

  Salt meet wound.

  Hannah turned away, walked a couple steps toward the adjoining door. She pivoted to face him, eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t want goodbyes, Mason. I can accept that for your safety, we need to stay away from each other. But here? It’s just us. No one else.”

  “What did you think was going to happen when we got here?” He prowled closer, closing the distance between them. Hell, it was all he’d been able to think about on the plane.

  They had five days. Five days in Mexico without anyone else around.

  He hooked a finger under the thin strap of her tank top and tugged. She rocked forward on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with stubborn tension.

  “Five days, Hannah.” He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. The zing of awareness had his cock straining against his zipper. He lifted his head, refusing to allow himself get lost in her just quite yet. “I need to check in with Zain.”

  If possible, the heat behind her glare intensified until he wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack him or fuck him.

  Hannah pushed him back and slammed the adjoining door closed. He didn’t stop her. They’d been sandwiched together for the last five hours, maybe what they needed was a little space. Perhaps when she got a moment to breathe she’d come to her senses and realize he was too much effort, too much like her father, and change her mind. If not, they were going to have five glorious days spent in bed. Hell, maybe they should have stayed home. It wasn’t like he had plans to let her out from under him for long.

  Mason grabbed his bag from where he’d tossed it through the door earlier and dropped it on the bed. He jammed his phone between his ear and shoulder while it rang.

  “Sit rep?” Zain said.

  “Hello to you, too,” Mason grumbled. He adjusted his aching dick and pushed thoughts of Hannah out of his mind.

  “You guys get there okay?”

  “Yeah, place looks good. Spotted a dozen resort security on my way in so I’d say we’re fine. We’ll just stay on the resort.”

  “Bit of bad news for you.”

  “Yeah?” Mason’s gut tightened.

  “Hannah’s roommate tagged her in some post about leaving on a jet plane—”

  “And Stevens has already called you, wanting to know where she is?”

  Zain blew out a breath.

  “It’s okay.” Mason could feel the proverbial noose tightening around his neck.

  “I’m putting him off until tomorrow morning, but expect a phone call. Or a unit.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Man, have a little fun while you’re there, okay?”

  “This coming from the man who plays with dolls for fun?”

  “Action figures—and I don’t play with them. I collect them, fuck you very much.”

  “No thanks, I’m not into dudes or family.”

  Mason and Zain’s laughter mingled over the airwaves.

  “Seriously, there’s nothing you can do about Stevens finding out, so you might as well have fun. Maybe not the kind of fun he thinks you’re having, but at least drink a cocktail or whatever it is you do down there.”

  “Coming from the man who never takes a vacation...”

  “I’ve seen them in movies. Looks boring. Gotta go.”

  “Later, man, thanks.”

  Mason hung up and tossed the phone on the bed.

  Shit.

  He scrubbed a hand across his face and grabbed his toiletry bag. Brushing his teeth never ceased to knock at least one idea loose. He squirted paste on the brush and stared at his reflection while working the bristles over his teeth.

  It wasn’t a question of right and wrong. There was nothing wrong about him and Hannah being together—there was just her father. Mason’s future. And where the two intersected. If he had other skills, some other way of supporting himself, he could live with saying goodbye to Aegis, but he had nothing. Just the stuff he learned in the SEALs, and the Navy didn’t want him. Not after what had happened. So where did that leave him?

  With a hard-on and an empty bed, that was where.

  The adjoining door jiggled. He stuck his head out of the bathroom and watched it open.

  Hannah stood in the doorway in some kind of see-through, loose dress thing. He had to do a double take to realize she was actually wearing some kind of peach-colored bikini under the cover-up.

  Fuck him sideways.

  The only reason a woman wore an outfit like that was to get laid.

  He was screwed no matter how he split this. The only question was, did he want to regret what he’d never had, or not being able to keep it?

  4.

  Dylan kicked off his flip-flops and left them under a deck chair on the resort boardwalk. The sun was setting, throwing brilliant shades of orange and purple against the clouds, and the music was cranking up. Soon the vacationing guests would flock to the sound and booze it up on the beach, ready to live it up Mexico style. Whatever that was.

  He’d only been to the resort a handful of times, usually for Cruz’s business meetings, as he liked to call them. Never for actual business. More like sampling the merchandise.

  Dylan meandered around the pool and toward the sand. Tonight the bar would experience a liquor shortage, planned of course, which would result in only one of the three beach bars being open. This meant that every guest had to see the same bartenders and order from the same register.

  The biggest bar sat where sand met concrete, a construction of palm fronds and worn boards. At least on the outside. Inside was a different story. But the patrons paid for the beach feel, so that’s what they got.

  Dylan leaned on the bar and scrolled through his phone, waiting out a couple chatting and sipping their drinks. Eventually they wandered off, leaving Dylan alone with the two on duty bartenders.

  “Luis?” he asked without glancing up.

  The man at the far end paused in wiping down the counter top. The other bartender, frozen in the action of stocking clean glasses, glanced from Luis to Dylan, then turned on his heel and disappeared arou
nd the back of the bar.

  Cruz didn’t own the resort, but he might as well.

  Luis edged closer, until they were directly across from each other. Luis was young, maybe late twenties, with symmetrical features and gelled hair. He had to be popular with the ladies. No wonder Cruz used this one. A smile and Luis could probably serve up whatever he wanted to unsuspecting patrons.

  “Can you remember faces?” Dylan turned his phone to face Luis.

  The man nodded.

  “Three girls. These two? Christine and Natalie. Then this one, Hannah. Can you remember them?”

  “Yes,” Luis snapped. He glanced around, scanning the beach.

  “Good. This one? The blonde? She’s very importante. Remember her before the others.” Dylan slid an envelope over the bar.

  It wasn’t money. This guy got paid by Cruz the same way as everyone else. No, the drugs were Dylan’s own cocktail, designed to hit slow and last long. With any luck the girls would never know something was wrong until they woke up tomorrow morning, safely in custody. Cruz hated it when the merchandize got bruised in transit.

  Luis nodded and pocketed the envelope without further comment. He knew the drill.

  Dylan slid his sunglasses low on his face and strode back toward the side entrance. He couldn’t hang around to enjoy the show. Hannah was too sharp to not notice him, and there weren’t enough guests to get lost in the crowd. He’d have to go back to his hotel and wait for the appointed pick-up time later.

  He jammed his feet back in his flip-flops and tabbed through the notifications on his phone. At the rate his business was picking up, he’d have a couple more special deliveries for Cruz in the next four weeks. It was about time something started going right for him.

  “Hey—watch where you’re going.” Dylan skidded to a stop, barely missing some dude in all black. He blinked at the guys face. “Rogelio. What are you doing here?”

  “Making sure you don’t fuck up.” Rogelio’s smile carried no warmth.