“One. It’s time for you to face the truth.
“Two. You are not over being dumped.
“Three. You’re not over her moving halfway around the world and never calling you to say goodbye when she left the country.
“Four. You are nowhere near being over Tawnee.
“Five. You’re in love with the woman. Still. To this very day. If she walked into this bakery right now and said she wanted you back, you’d jump for fucking joy. And so would I, because at least you’d have a new fucking story to tell.” Blake bites into his bagel, tearing it with excessive force, and glares at me over his coffee cup.
“That’s ridiculous. How do you get that from what I just told you?”
“Because I’m not a fucking moron, Roman. Unlike you. That’s how.”
“You’re so full of shit. I don’t give second chances, Blake. One and done—that’s how I manage my relationship issues. Plain and simple. No fuss, no muss. No complications. No baggage. No unresolved issues.”
“Yeah, I got it, man. You’re still full of shit, for the record. I stick by my original statement and assessment of you.”
We walk out of the restaurant and stroll down the street, keeping our target in sight without giving away our position.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text, so I fish it out of my pocket and quickly glance at the screen. My attention is on my mark, but when I glance down at the screen, I forget all about my mission.
I forget about my job.
I forget about my mark.
I forget why I’m following him.
After three long years, Tawnee has sent me a message. But it’s not just any message. To anyone else, it appears to be a string of letters and numbers with no discernable pattern. But I know better. I recognize the secret code on sight. With a quick copy and paste into our own software program and our specific key, I decode the message and nearly let my phone slip through my fingers when I read what it says.
Send help immediately. Assassination plot. Extraction needed.
Her life is in imminent danger, and she’s reaching out to me for help…from Dubai.
How can I not answer this call?
“What’s wrong? Did you just see a ghost or what?” Blake looks over his shoulder at where I’ve stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Something like that. Tawnee just texted me using Brad’s secret message system. I haven’t heard from her in three years, Blake.”
“Yeah. Funny how I got that from the conversation we just had not three seconds ago. What did her message say?”
I hand Blake my phone and take his out of his hand. In seconds, I have my CIA partners, Silas Steele and Nick Tucker, on the phone and I’m relaying the message from Tawnee.
“What do you want to do, Roman?” Silas asks.
He knows damn well what I want to do, but he’s testing me in more ways than one. It’s not just my commitment to carrying out my duties as a CIA officer he’s questioning. It’s my commitment to her—someone who once worked alongside me at Steele Security. Someone who slept beside me, almost lived with me, and loved me. And someone I should’ve treated better than I did.
“I want to drop everything and leave a blazing trail on our way out of Dubai with her safely in my arms.” That’s probably the most honest statement I’ve made regarding her in the last three years.
“Have you done any research into what’s going on and why she’s involved in an imminent assassination attempt?” Nick asks, ever the level-headed hero.
“No, Nick. I just got the text and immediately called you two.” I grit my teeth to keep my impatience under wraps.
“So, we could be walking straight into an ambush. It could all be a ruse to get you there for some reason. Or Silas. Or me. Or all three of us, for that matter. You have nothing but a simple text that could be from anyone pretending to be Tawnee.”
“It came through Brad’s encrypted system. Only Tawnee would know what secret key to use so I could decode the message. She sent it to me—not you and not Silas. Me. She needs me, and I’m going with or without you two.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Get your shit together, Roman, and screw your head on straight. If she’s in a volatile situation, what do you think is waiting for us? We have no idea what we’re walking into, so you need to check your emotions at the door and think logically. What is she working on? Who is she working with? Who are their friends and enemies?” Nick has been in so many dangerous situations in his career, this line of questioning has become second nature to him.
He’s right, though. I saw her plea for help, and I was ready to run headlong into the fire, no questions asked.
Maybe Blake is right after all.
“Tell Blake to pack his gear. He’s going along for the ride, too. I’ll contact Langley and get all the intel we have on the situation. There’s a flight leaving Miami today at 5:35. Let’s meet at the airport and prepare for the long-ass flight to Dubai. Leave your guns at home. You’ll never make it through customs with a weapon.” Silas is the most seasoned CIA officer of us all.
Even though we’re assigned to a joint task force with the NSA and CIA, we mostly perform under CIA rules. Meaning, there are none. This should be an interesting trip.
* * *
Tawnee
“Rafael, it’s time to go. We’ve cleared the hallway.” I approach my handsome Latin employer and try to urge him out of the luxury hotel suite for the third time this morning.
“Tawnee, you have to relax. You’re far too pretty to be so stressed all the time.” He finally stands from the overstuffed sofa and slides his sunglasses over his eyes.
“Unfortunately, my looks have no bearing on my stress levels. Ensuring your security does. You not taking your own security seriously also does. Why hire me and make me travel around the world with you if you don’t listen to me?” I turn and walk back to the entrance to check the hallway before letting him pass through the door.
“There’s nothing I have to worry about. I know you’ve already worried about it a thousand times over before I’ve even considered it.”
“I don’t doubt that’s true. Not even for a second. Which makes me even more stressed since, again, you don’t take your own safety seriously. We’re caught in a vicious cycle, you and I. So I need you to help me out here and don’t make me old before my time. Stay close to your security team, be vigilant about watching your surroundings, and do exactly as you’re told to do.”
“I love it when you’re bossy like that. It’s so sexy.”
“I’m serious, Raf.”
“So am I. And your ass looks awesome in those pants. You should wear those every day.”
I stop and turn to look him dead in the eyes. “Rafael, I do wear the same style of pants every single day that I’m with you. They’re basically my work uniform. And you can’t possibly watch your surroundings if you’re watching my ass.”
His dark chuckle makes me smile. He knows he drives me crazy—that’s why he does it on purpose. He’s a shameless flirt, but he’s also harmless. If he thought for one second his comments offended me or made me uncomfortable, he’d apologize profusely and buy me a mega yacht to make up for it. But then, he can afford to be so lavish since he’s one of the richest men in the world. As the owner of a very profitable holding company, he controls the majority of shares in a lot of very high-powered, high-profile companies. Those businesses have made him an extraordinary amount of money, but he’s still the same down-to-earth man he was before the cash starting rolling in.
All the money he has made is why I have a job today, albeit one that makes me crazy more than anything else in my life at the moment. Buying the controlling shares in companies whose owners aren’t ready to give up control hasn’t made him the most popular man on the Forbes Top 100 list. Corporate enemies can be ruthless. Kidnapping is a real threat for someone who is worth so much. Then there’s the matter of his life insurance policy—it requires him to have private security
in most circumstances…like when he leaves his house for any length of time, goes out on dates with unvetted partners, or when he’s traveling to Dubai for both business and pleasure.
We’re in the UAE for both reasons on this trip.
He’s taking a tour of a recently built high-rise condo building as he considers expanding his interests. Not that he needs more income, but he’s bored with managing his life against where the stock market closes or how a company performs. Expanding into real estate in one of the most popular destinations in the world makes good business sense to him.
Buying the entire building in this destination mecca isn’t something many people would be able to afford.
But Rafael Cruz isn’t just anyone.
We finally make it to the waiting car and get him inside without incident. On the way to tour the high-rise, Raf makes another business call while I watch our surroundings.
“Tony, change lanes abruptly.” Our driver, Tony, is used to my obsessive behavior by now, so he does as I ask without question.
All the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. I speak into the comms, alerting the rest of the team in the other cars. “We have a possible tail. White Nissan Altima. Two males. Two cars behind and speeding up fast to catch up with us. Tony, make an unexpected turn, but not down a dead-end street. Make sure there’s an easy out.”
Tony’s more alert now. His eyes are glued to the rearview mirror when he identifies the turn he’ll make. Rafael, on the other hand, continues his conversation for a few more seconds before disconnecting the call as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening around him. The other car is traveling too fast in an attempt to catch up with us, so they’re unable to make the same turn. They slam on their brakes, and the tires screech against the asphalt. Then they turn, and the front wheel jumps the curb before they speed up again, racing toward us.
“Tony, get us out of here. Now.”
We race through the crowded city, drawing way too much attention in a culture that doesn’t appreciate such outrageous behavior. But these guys aren’t stopping. If anything, they’re becoming more aggressive.
“Raf, you need to get down out of sight.”
“Don’t you have your gun? Shoot their tires out.” He slides down in the seat, snatches his shades off his face, and looks at me with fear in his eyes for the first time since this chase started.
“Do I have a gun in Dubai? No, Raf, we’re not residents here. We can’t carry firearms without a special invitation from the sheik himself. Even you don’t have that kind of clout here.”
“Then how exactly do you plan to protect me?”
“By losing them and getting you to a safe place until we can work with the police to identify the owner of the car and the men inside.”
Suddenly, another car appears out of nowhere and rams us from a side street. While we were watching the car behind us for the last several miles, they coordinated a sneak attack. Our car spins around in the middle of the street and slams into the side of a building. The initial shock of the crash takes me a few precious seconds to clear my mind, then I check on Rafael to make sure he isn’t hurt.
He assures me he’s fine, so I immediately survey our surroundings to get my bearings. Tony and the second car of security guys surround our car, ready to fight off our attackers. Raf’s door is pinned against the building, so I turn and shield him with my body since there’s no way out and nowhere to run. The ruckus outside the car is fierce, with aggressive yelling in Arabic and English. The men start to scuffle, leaving me exposed inside the car. Arms reach in, grabbing at me, trying to pull me out. But I plant my feet against the side of the vehicle and push with all my might, staying between them and Rafael.
Tony dispatches the man who had distracted him then rushes back to help me. Two other members of our detail soon join him, effectively beating back the attack with fists and brawn. The entire scene lasts mere seconds, but it feels like it takes forever. The next thing I see, the attackers run back to their cars. One turns to look at me again before he slides into the passenger seat. He angrily yells something in Arabic…but I distinctly hear my name right in the middle of his rant.
Now I’m not so sure Rafael was the intended target after all.
* * *
Haven’t read Nick Tucker’s story yet? Get it now in Fine Line.
Roman’s story is coming soon in Hard Line.
Want more of Nick Tucker? Read Her Dom and Her Dom’s Lesson!
Want more of Nick, Silas, Roman, Reaper, Bull, Rebel, and Shadow? Find them and more the Steele Security series: Wicked Games, Wicked Ties, Wicked Nights, Wicked Intentions, and Wicked Shadows!
* * *
About the Author
A.D. Justice is the award-winning USA Today bestselling author of the Steele Security Series (Wicked Games, Wicked Ties, Wicked Nights, Wicked Intentions, Wicked Shadows), the Crazy Series (Crazy Maybe, Crazy Baby), the Dominic Powers series (Her Dom, Her Dom’s Lesson), the Immortal Obsessions series (Immortal Envy), and a few stand-alone romance novels, such as Saving Grace, Completely Captivated, Just One Summer, Intent, and Mistletoe Not Required.
When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with her own alpha male character in their North Georgia mountain home. She is also an avid reader of romance novels, a master at procrastination, a chocolate sommelier, a twister of words, and speaks fluent sarcasm. An avid animal lover, A.D. Justice has two horses, three cats, and two very spoiled dogs.
While the primary focus of her books has been romantic suspense, she has expanded into different sub-genres of romance. Stay tuned to read what she has in store for you!
Connect with her online!
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Website
Books By A.D. Justice
Steele Security Series
Wicked Games (Book 1)
Wicked Ties (Book 2)
Wicked Nights (Book 3)
Wicked Intentions (Book 4)
Wicked Shadows (Book 5)
The Crazy Series
Crazy Maybe (Book 1)
Crazy Baby (Book 2)
Crazy Love (FREE Short Story)
Dominic Powers Series
Her Dom (Book 1)
Her Dom’s Lesson (Book 2)
The Vault
Warning, Part One
Warning, Part Two
Warning, Part Three
Crossing Lines
Fine Line
Blurred Line
Hard Line
Immortal Obsession
Immortal Envy (Book 1)
Stand-alone Romance Novels
Saving Grace
Completely Captivated
Intent
Just One Summer (Novella)
Mistletoe Not Required (Novella)
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is much harder than one would think. The finished product only takes a few hours to read, but months to agonize over every single word, plot point, and character action. Only speaking for myself, I can honestly say I put my heart and soul into the story, taking time away from family and friends (and cleaning house….oh, the messy house!) to write just one more chapter.
When I finally reach those two little magical words, a weight is lifted from my shoulders and I’m able to breathe again. Until I start the next book. Which is usually while my editor works on the recently completed one.
My writing journey includes chatting with several people I trust and admire to give feedback and suggestions. There are also people who encourage and support me along the way, taking a chance on a new type of book or a storyline outside the norm. Those who aren’t afraid to step outside the box and give “different” a chance. These are my people—my tribe—whether they realize it or not.
Acknowledgments are hard to write because I never want to leave anyone out or make anyone feel their place in my life isn’t important. If you’ve ever read my books, you hold a special place in my heart. There are a few special pe
ople I want to recognize for helping make this book special to me.
First and foremost, I thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for his unending love, mercy, and forgiveness of a sinner like me. Without Him, I am nothing. Yes, when I say I fall short, I realize I fall way short, but thankfully, there’s no such thing as being too far from Him. He knows my heart. Someone recently called me a hypocrite for adding this to my acknowledgments. Since I openly admit I’m a sinner, I don’t see it the same way she does. To me, a hypocrite implies someone denies any wrongdoing WHILE actually doing wrong. Adding this is my way of sharing my belief and thanking Him for the many blessings in my life, even though I’m well aware I don’t deserve them.
Michelle Dare, you’ve been with me since the beginning of this crazy journey. All these years later, it’s very clear that you’re stuck with me. FOR.EV.A. Sorry for your bad luck. ;)
Victoria Renteria, you are an AWESOME alpha reader! Thank you for your time, feedback, and belief that I could actually finish this book. Silas was quite the PITA, but you made it feel much easier with you wittiness and awesomeness!
Lisa A. Hollett with Silently Correcting Your Grammar, my editor and my friend, thank you once again for working through this book with me and polishing it until it’s as perfect as possible.
Wander Aguiar, the photographer for the covers in this series, is always wonderful to work with—although he does make choosing one photo very difficult. Fortunately, I was able to find three that perfectly fit this series.
Sommer Stein with Perfect Pear Creative Covers, thank you for creating these awesome covers. I’m always in awe of your amazing talent.
To the readers, whether you love, like, or hate this book, thank you for taking your time to read it. Thank you for your reviews, even if all you say is you liked it or not. Thank you for your support—you have no idea how much every little bit means to me. You are the best!
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