Stop it, Viktoria. He’s the polar opposite of an appropriate man. He’d never fit into her corporate world. The Heathen tracked dirt everywhere, wore inappropriate clothes, said improper things, and…and he was bossy…
In other words, he refused to let her walk all over him.
Unhooking the charging cord from her phone, she shot to her feet and jabbed redial. She had to get some real work done and stop obsessing about Lee McCallister.
“How are you feeling, Aleta?” Viktoria asked her assistant, crossing her fingers the woman would be well enough to work.
“This dry, California air is helping, I think,” Aleta answered and Viktoria exhaled in relief at how her assistant sounded as healthy as her words claimed.
Without guilt, in Icelandic to ensure the call remained private, Viktoria launched into the list of details she needed Aleta to tackle. Thanks to the conference call and her father’s meetings, Viktoria’s to-do list had grown exponentially, and Aleta had better resources on the ground to handle things even if she was stuck in California.
Stepping from the behind the desk, Viktoria clutched the phone to her ear and began pacing to expend the restless energy spooling inside her. On the second pass in front of her desk, she snatched the mug of coffee she’d fixed earlier and took a sip. Cold liquid crossed her tongue but she drank it anyway. She’d long ago given up worrying about trivialities like enjoying a hot beverage while working.
Her heels barely made a sound on the carpeting as she walked from the bedroom wall to the locked cockpit door, then back as she and Aleta talked. Two other security men filled recliners, and she was embarrassed to admit she barely noticed them. Her focus continued to laser onto Lee and his stupid clean scent every time she passed, though she pretended not to see him at all.
He touched his ear and lifted his gaze off his phone.
“No, Aleta,” she snapped after her assistant’s words penetrated the potency Lee wrapped her body in. “Father is still insisting I stick to the schedule and we remain separated on this trip—”
“Sit down, Viktoria,” Lee interrupted, latching onto her forearm, halting her steps.
“Hold on, Aleta,” Viktoria barked into the phone, then switched to English as she glared at Lee. “I am not a dog you can order to do tricks.”
The Heathen let go of her arm that held the coffee and rose to his full height, shifting to face her directly. A shiver stole over her before she could lock down the lust trying to take over.
“You need to take a seat,” he ordered in that low, icy tone.
“You are living up to those feral eyes,” she shot back.
He leaned forward slightly, those amber irises darkening. “My former Army Ranger unit used to call me Puma. You want to know why?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Partly because of my eye color but mainly because I was a sniper. A solitary killer who patiently hunted his prey just like the lethal, feral cat. Do you want to find out how sharp my claws really are?”
Air seized in her lungs and for a moment she forgot how to swallow. My God, he’s such a beautiful heathen—
The plane rocked, shaking violently enough that her coffee spilled down her dress. Lee grabbed her elbow to stop her from falling head first into the recliner, and she noticed the two other men on the edges of their seats, ready to help. She had forgotten them again. Fury roared through her that had more to do with embarrassment than anything else.
Ripping out of his hold just as the plane leveled out, she barked into the phone, “I’ll call you back, Aleta.” Whirling, she jabbed the phone toward cold liquid seeping into her dress. “Look at this mess. You should have warned me!”
Lee’s eyebrows flew up. “I did warn you. Why the hell do you think I told you to take a seat?”
“Turbulence,” she spat. “That one word would have said it all. Your caveman command to sit explained nothing.”
His expression shuttered and he took the empty mug from her hand. “You should change.” He motioned to the leather and carpeting. “I’ll clean this up.”
Hating to take another order from him, but not seeing a logical argument against the obvious course of action, she stormed into the bedroom. The flight attendant had already unpacked her suitcases, hanging her suits and dresses in the tiny closet before Viktoria dismissed the woman from accompanying them on the flight. Viktoria wasn’t so lofty she couldn’t get her own coffee or make a sandwich when she was hungry. In moments, she donned a purple silk top, a pair of black pants, and appropriately matched heels. Standing, she caught her reflection in the mirror. A flush tinged her skin and her eyes sparked with fire. Lee brought her body to life, and she had to figure out how she should deal with the chemistry flowing between them.
Her father’s words after a hard breakup with a boy in college drifted through her mind. One day, you’re going to meet a man who will be strong enough to embrace your fire and spirit. He’ll not only match your intensity, he’ll help lift you until you soar, and you’ll pull him up to fly beside you. You’ll know it when you meet that perfect match, and, honey, I hope you’ll have enough courage to hang on to him with both hands.
The battle of wills with Lee charged forward in her thoughts again, along with every one of their interactions, including him graciously accepting her crowing victory about the background check. Ice filled her veins and she clenched her fists. No way could The Heathen be her perfect match. He couldn’t be the man her father warned her she had to have courage to hang on to. But she never heard her father’s words before when she met a man, and so far, Lee stood alone in the way he had stood up to her without tearing her down…
Phantom amber eyes overlaid her blue ones in the mirror. Puma. An Army Ranger, which if she remembered correctly, meant he’d belonged to an elite Special Forces unit. And a sniper, at that. No wonder he prowled like he had intensive training. He had.
What made him leave the Rangers to become a bodyguard?
The plane hit another patch of turbulence and she clutched the wall to remain upright. She shouldn’t think about any of this now. Now, she needed to walk out the door and forget the last ten minutes. Her to-do list wasn’t going to magically complete itself.
Striding to the desk, she sat primly in the executive chair. Her traitorous gaze found Lee in the galley, pulling a mug out of the Keurig coffee machine, then adding cream and sugar.
He sauntered the length of the plane and set the steaming mug onto the desk’s varnished surface, then rested his weight against his large hands and leaned forward. “There might come a moment when you could be in danger,” he stated softly, no ice, or censorship, or taunt in his tone. “In that moment, you’ll need to follow my orders without asking questions. I’ll be relying on you to do that because I’ll be busy figuring out how to keep you alive and get us away safely. I won’t have time to explain or debate or justify how I say those orders.”
She met his gaze head on. “Just as long as you realize that outside of one of those dangerous moments, I’m not a puppet on your string or a woman without a brain.”
He stilled. After ten heart beats, he dipped his chin. “Fair enough.” He straightened. “Send me the bill for the dry cleaning. I should have said turbulence.” With that, he strolled back to the recliner he claimed earlier.
She couldn’t stop blinking. Wow. That’s twice he’s admitted I was right. Thrown, she took a sip of the coffee. Perfection. Her gaze flew to him and she found him staring at his phone.
How had he gotten it exactly right? Implications of how many details he paid attention to and how much he saw her seeped in.
For the first time in a long time, vulnerability trickled out of the vault she kept shut tight and lingered.
5
Lee swiped at the sweat trickling along his hairline from the ninety-degree afternoon sun baking his head. He scanned the area as he swiftly moved along the side of the hangar toward the front. Roaring engines, country music blasting on a radio, and the banging of mechanics’ tools filled the hot air
. “Hangar Two, clear. I’m going to check out the parked limo.”
“Hangar One, clear,” Mike answered in Lee’s comms.
Viktoria’s white and teal jet came into view, sitting by itself on the tarmac between the two hangars to keep the runway clear. Not that there had been any activity since they’d landed ten minutes ago.
“Jeff?” Lee crossed in front of the massive, open bay door that revealed two Cessnas and a small jet inside, and continued toward the limo parked at the other edge of Hangar Two, closer to the maintenance building. “How’s the ground crew coming with the fuel truck?”
Viktoria's schedule had them stopping for fuel at the small municipal airport east of Wichita, Kansas. The mid-sized charter jet needed the pit stop, and they were in no hurry to arrive in New York City. Having two days to arrive at what they could’ve reached in less than a day meant her father had mapped a lazy route with built-in stops. Lee understood the logic. She’d be well secured in the air, and the stops on the ground shouldn’t be long enough for trouble to find them. This was as safe as her father could make her.
“The truck is pulling out of the garage now,” Jeff answered.
Lee glanced toward the third building and spied Jeff jogging beside the lumbering rig. The poor man had sweat dripping off his face and his gray T-shirt clung to his body. Hopefully Viktoria wouldn’t mind Jeff borrowing the shower after they were back in the air.
“Approaching limo now.” Lee walked the entire perimeter of the black, newer-model, stretch. No rental advertisement stickers adorned the body and it looked well cared for. The tinted windows didn’t allow him to see much, so he pressed the side of his hand against the glass and peered in multiple windows. Nothing. He tried the handles on all the doors as he passed, but they remained locked. “Limo is clear. Must belong to someone renting hangar space.”
Lee quickened his pace as he marched back to the plane. He pulled his phone out and cursed. One missed call. Checking the voicemail log, he saw Boom’s name listed.
Figured. He’d thought he felt the device vibrating in his pocket earlier, but he had been locked in another battle of wills with Viktoria. Keeping her on the jet while his team secured the area had not been easy—
“That is so kind of you.”
Lee snapped his head up at Viktoria’s sultry, accented voice and found the copilot holding his hand out to help her down the steps. Lee rolled his eyes. Of course she’d insist on exiting since he asked her not to. At least she waited until we finished the security sweep.
Jeff’s steps picked up and he veered from the fuel truck to meet Viktoria at the bottom of the stairs. Good man.
Mike shook hands with a man dressed in charcoal overalls outside Hangar One, then trekked toward the jet. Excellent. With both security guys watching Viktoria, Lee could listen to Boom’s call on the plane to cut down on the noise. With any luck, Boom would have a final clearance on the copilot, and the pit in Lee’s stomach could take a break.
A pair of sexy heels clicked smartly on the tarmac as Jeff moved to flank Viktoria’s other side. “Lee,” she beamed, her blue eyes daring him to challenge her. “I needed the fresh air.”
And to thwart my authority. “Ah, yes,” Lee oozed, moving closer. “Nothing like the smell of aviation fuel and motor parts to recharge the body.”
Her smile dipped and her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t move from her side,” Lee directed Jeff as he passed. “I’ll be on board for a few minutes.”
Jogging up the stairs, Lee walked to the office area to get away from the open door without invading her bedroom. Tapping in his code, he pressed play on the voicemail.
“Lee.” Boom’s voice rattled the speakerphone. “Code Red. The copilot’s a ghost. The name’s fake, as well as that background report. We haven’t been able to find his real ID yet.”
Lee’s heart plummeted and adrenaline flooded his veins.
“As soon as you land, get him off the plane.”
Lee’s gaze snapped to the window and his stomach lurched at the scene beyond.
“I’m sorry for telling you to take off. I’m working on a replacement—”
Jeff jerked, then crumbled to the pavement.
NO! Lee jammed the phone into his back pocket and ran for the stairs. Jumping down the steps as fast as he could, Lee ripped his Sig Sauer out of the holster secured at the small of his back.
The copilot was pulling Viktoria by the arm toward the limo. Fuck. He shouldn’t have dismissed the empty vehicle parked on the tarmac instead of the parking lot.
Viktoria screamed something in Icelandic and punched the copilot in the ear.
Yes! Go, warrior woman.
The man’s head rolled to the side and he tripped, but instead of letting go or falling down, he yanked Viktoria closer and wrapped an arm around her.
Lifting his Sig, Lee sighted down the barrel, but he had no shot. With Viktoria’s flailing attempts to break free, he’d more likely hit her than the copilot. DAMN!
Jamming the gun back into the holster, he took off. Mike was only steps from the pair.
“Secure Viktoria,” Lee yelled.
The copilot wheeled, his elbow slamming into Mike’s chest, knocking him back.
Capitalizing on the distraction, Lee ripped Viktoria out of the copilot’s arms and shoved her into Mike’s. “Get her on the plane.”
The copilot lunged after Viktoria. Lee grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him away. Ducking beneath the copilot’s right hook, Lee shot his arm out, nailing the man in his unprotected stomach. The copilot hacked, bending slightly, allowing Lee to straighten, using the momentum to land an upper cut on the man’s chin. The copilot’s head snapped back, but he recovered fast enough to jump to the left, just missing Lee’s kick.
Undaunted, Lee moved with him, and blocked the right and left strikes thrown his way. He nailed the man’s unprotected gut again, then grabbed the guy’s head and slammed his nose into Lee’s raised knee. Jabbing the sweet spot on the copilot’s skull, he knocked him out, Ranger style.
So much for this being a simple babysitting assignment. Breathing hard, Lee whirled to spy Mike and Viktoria already inside the plane.
Jeff—
The trunk of the limo popped open and a man leapt out.
“What the hell?” Lee ripped his Sig out of its holster.
Trunk Man raised a Glock and Lee veered to the right just as the crack of gunfire echoed.
Sighting down the barrel as best he could while zig-zagging, Lee squeezed off a round, but it slammed into the limo. Shit. He continued running a pattern that led away from the jet and the mobile bomb sitting beside it. If Trunk Man hit that fuel truck just right, he’d blow them all to hell.
Lee fired twice more. Two more rounds dotted the limo and Trunk Man dove, taking cover behind it.
Son of a bitch! This had to end before an innocent got hurt. Lee ran to the limo’s front fender and lined his legs with the wheel. Leaning over, he peered under the car and aimed for the knee resting against the pavement. His first shot missed—fucking eye!—but his second burrowed into flesh and bone.
An unholy howl screeched as a thud hit the tarmac. Lee raced to the other side of the hood and peered around, his Sig at the ready. Trunk Man lay curled in on himself, clutching his knee as he screamed. Lee ran and kicked the Glock beneath the limo to keep anyone from getting to it.
Using the butt of his gun, Lee knocked Trunk Man out and jammed his Sig away. “Call the police,” Lee shouted to the mechanics huddled inside the building.
“Already did—they’re on their way,” one of them responded.
Lee jabbed the mic of his comms on as he ran to Jeff. “Mike, tell the pilot to get the plane ready. We’re taking off now.”
“On it, boss,” Mike responded.
Dropping to his knees, Lee rolled Jeff over, continuing his instructions to Mike. “Don’t let the pilot file a flight plan. Just have him go as far as he can on the fuel we’ve got, then once we’re airborne,
he can work it out with air traffic control where to land.”
“Consider it done. Viktoria’s unharmed. I’ve called Boom. He’ll run interference with the police.”
Lee ran his hands over Jeff’s unconscious body but didn’t find a bullet wound. Relief hit him hard and he exhaled. Hoisting Jeff over his shoulder, Lee grunted at the solid weight and moved as quickly as he could to the plane.
The jet’s engines wound up, hurting Lee’s ears. Huffing up the stairs, he burst into the cabin and set Jeff onto the closest recliner, briskly strapping him in.
“Help the pilot.” Lee clapped Mike on the shoulder, then worked to close and seal the door.
Ten seconds later, the jet jerked as it began rolling forward. Lee kept vigilance at the door’s window. Airport personnel slowly trekked out of their hiding spots and moved closer to the limo, and the downed copilot and Trunk Man. In the distance, flashing red and blue lights filtered through the trees and buildings and Lee willed the plane to move. So far the threat seemed contained, but he wouldn’t trust anything until they were well out of reach.
As if hearing him, the jet picked up speed and then began climbing in the air. Dropping his chin, he inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled to control his pounding heart and let go of the adrenaline.
Viktoria. His eyes snapped open and he turned to check on her. She knelt beside Jeff, her fingers on the pulse in his neck.
“He okay?” Lee asked, moving to stand beside her.
She leapt to her feet and turned on him. Her blue eyes blazed and she poked him in the chest. Hard. “What the hell was that? You’re supposed to protect me from kidnapping. You’re supposed to stop the attempt before it happens.”
Lee’s first instinct was to snap back. To tell her that he ordered the plane grounded in San Diego to safeguard against this very possibility but caught the defensive response before it flew past his lips. Behind the fire raging in her eyes, he spied fear. It tightened the skin around the corners of her mouth, leached the color from her skin, and tensed her muscles as hard as stone. He instantly understood. She used indignation to cover the terror and helplessness claiming her.
Ranger’s Protection: SEAL and Veteran Series: Book Three Page 3