Danger Signs (Delta Force Echo: An Iniquus Action Adventure Romance Book 1)

by Fiona Quinn

  Now, it was Rory and the man against the rottweiler, and the rotti looked uncertain.

  Kira pressed herself against the fence, trying to keep out of their way and not be a distraction. She was trembling as hard as Beatrice.

  The teeth on that dog!

  “Go!” The man shouted and smacked his hands together hard as he leaped forward.

  The rottweiler circled away from him, barking in a low rumble of anger that Kira could feel in her teeth.

  “Go!” He tried again.

  Rory was fearless. Kira thought he was just waiting for the man to give him the directive, and this was going to turn into a full-pitched dog attack. Kira could do nothing to help except pay for vet bills. What a horrific thought. She didn’t want anyone getting injured on account of her.

  Kira focused on Beatrice and realized the pup still had her green ball trapped in her comparably itty-bitty teeth. Kira wrenched the ball from Bea's jaw, held it toward the rotti, and yelled, “Fetch!”

  The rottweiler watched the ball sail over his head and turned to chase it down.

  As he ran to the ball, the old man in his Hawaiian shirt showed up. “Hey, sorry about that,” he called.

  She watched the rotti go over and hand him the ball. He clipped the lead to his dog, tossed the ball back toward her, and they left. Just. Like. That.

  Kira couldn’t believe it. The nerve of that man!

  “Hey, hey, hey.” A warm male voice pulled her head around.

  There he was.

  He was even more gorgeous than yesterday. Kira thought she was going to swoon in the most ridiculous Regency romance way.

  “Hey, you’re squeezing her too tightly.”

  Now Kira could hear the high-pitched rebuke that Beatrice was yipping.

  The man loosened her arms, which was good, because her body had forgotten how to function.

  He set Beatrice gently on the ground.

  Rory came over and sniffed at her.

  A warm hand was on her arm. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

  She didn’t think she was in shock from the dog attack, maybe a little. It was just that…

  “Where are your shoes? This park is full of dog mess.”

  She looked down at her bare feet. She must have run right out of her shoes and hadn’t even noticed.

  Could she not get herself together?

  “Stay put. I’ll find them.”

  Off went Studly in search of her shoes, and Kira let out an exhale. With her hands on her head, Kira leaned back, looking at the sky.

  How could this be happening to her?

  She was gobsmacked. She was over the moon. She was an idiot.

  Kira shook herself to break the spell and walked in the direction the man had headed.

  Just over the rise, there he was with her shoes dangling from his fingers as he made his way back to her.

  It was oddly intimate for him to have his fingers in her shoes.

  He held them up so she could see. “Are you okay?” he asked again as he approached.

  “Thank you.” She looked back at the fence, taking in how high it was. “That was some heroic action. Your dog is…you are…” And for the first time in her life, Kira seemed to have lost her ability to speak the English language.

  Studly stood in front of her, and she looked up into his eyes.

  Beautiful eyes. Sincere, curious, concerned eyes.

  They were a dark chocolatey brown made almost black by the size of his pupils. In them, she could imagine she saw affection and honesty shining back at her.

  “I’m Kira.” Brilliant conversationalist. “Uhm, thank you.” She reached for her shoes.

  “Tyler Newcomb,” he said in return, lightly holding her elbow to steady her while she stooped to brush some of the dirt from her foot and put her shoe back on. She noticed that he had strange bruises on his arms and wondered how he had gotten them.

  “Most everyone calls me Ty.” He turned his head and chuckled. “It’s like Lady and the Tramp.”

  Kira turned to see what had amused him.

  Rory and Beatrice each held the end of a long stick and were running side by side. Beatrice running her little legs off, and Rory trotting gently by her side.

  “Hold the fort?” Kira asked.

  “I’m a K9 handler at Fort Bragg.”

  She nodded.

  “The guy who handled Rory before I did was a SEAL who had decided that instead of training his dogs in German or another language, that he’d make up his own words. I had to learn all of Rory’s quirky commands. ‘Hold the fort’ means to not let the enemy approach. Basically, en garde.”

  “Oh, clever. But why is Rory with you? Is the SEAL okay?”

  “That SEAL is now a dog handler for a group called Cerberus K9 at Iniquus. His SEAL days were cut short when he got sick, and it affected his lung capacity.” His voice was so calm. And while he sent tingles up and down her spine with the newness of discovery, she also felt like she’d known him all her life. That he was safe. That she was safe with him. It was uncanny.

  “It’s hard to jump out of planes at high altitude,” Ty said, “or swim long distances like SEALs need to on the job when you have a diminished lung capacity.”

  “Oh, heartbreaking.” Kira turned her hand so that as he held her arm, she could hold him, as well.

  “He’s good. It all works out.”

  Suddenly, this guy felt ill at ease to her. The end of the small talk. Crisis over. Now they were just two strangers in a park.

  She should let him go.

  But she absolutely didn’t want to. “I’ve interrupted your workout. But I’m so grateful.” She stopped and blinked. She wanted to thank him. Two days in a row saving Beatrice and, by extension, her. She owed him something for his rescues, and she couldn’t figure out how to repay him. But she certainly couldn’t let him walk away again.

  “I’m in town because old Rory is getting ready to go out on a personal protection assignment. He’s been in theater—uh, out in the boonies working. And I need to make sure that he’s practiced his good manners. So I’m here in town for the week.”

  Kira nodded. That probably explained his bruises. She couldn’t ask him about that, it was too personal of a question. She needed to think of something to say. “I live a few blocks from here.” Okay, that was something. Kira rolled her eyes at herself. She held an open palm in the direction of her house, thinking she could ask him for a glass of iced tea. But how lame was that?

  They looked at the dogs, still running with their stick. “We don’t eat that well at Fort Bragg. There aren’t a wide variety of restaurants in my area. I was wondering, Kira, if you would keep me company at dinner tonight because I found a place up on the lake that looks like it’s got an interesting fusion going on.”

  “Oh, yes.” She sent him a radiant smile. “I would enjoy that.”

  “I’ll walk you home then because that way I’ll know where to pick you up. Will seven work? My reservation is for seven-thirty.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ty

  When Ty saw White lying on his bed like yesterday, unfamiliar rage filled his system. He slammed the door shut.

  Rory spun to look at him, startled and on guard.

  “You did that, didn’t you?” Ty pointed his finger aggressively at White.

  White yawned and stretched, not giving two shits that he was pissed. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “You had a hundred-twenty-pound rottweiler squaring off with a hundred-and-twenty-pound untrained woman and her twelve-pound spaniel.”

  White pulled up her legs to sit cross-legged, moving her computer to the side. “Surely, you saw the radio collar, and you knew the dog was following commands.”

  “That was a dangerous game you played.” He felt his system expand. That damned scene was too risky, Kira racing to save Beatrice like that, both admirably selfless and naïve. “Rory is trained to kill. Can you imagine what would have happened if Rory ripped the jugular o
ut of that dog’s throat in front of Kira? Or worse, if something had happened to Beatrice? That would be the image Kira saw every time I was near, and she’d run for the woods. It was counterproductive and hazardous as hell—for K9s and humans alike. That could have become a shit show in the blink of an eye. Don’t mess around in things that you obviously know nothing about, like K9 behavior.”

  “You have control over Rory.”

  “Look, I told you, if I hold someone or take care of someone, Rory sees them as part of his pack. He will protect them. Yesterday, at the ice cream place—you saw it on your videos—I picked up Beatrice and gave her licks off Rory’s ice cream. What do you think Rory took away from that? Then I handed Rory’s ice cream and the dog to Kira. Do you know how smart Rory is? Do you think that scene passed by him unnoticed?”

  Rory was sitting by Ty’s side glaring at White, adding his own disapproval, his lip twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should growl at her too.

  “At the time, I thought your plan was a good thing,” Ty said. “It would make introducing Rory to Kira and Beatrice that much simpler. I had no idea you were going to pull that crap in the dog park. That could have gone FUBAR in an instant.” He snapped his fingers.

  “But it didn’t.”

  “This isn’t a game, lady.”

  “Oh, of that, I am very aware, thank you, First Sergeant Newcomb.” She turned and punched up her pillows, shifting them around behind her until she was more comfortable, taking a moment, Ty assumed, to think.

  “He had a zap collar, a radio collar, and a handler,” she offered.

  “Have you ever seen a Malinois train a takedown?” His bladed hands came to rest on his hips.

  “Yes.”

  He held out the flat of his left hand and stabbed his index finger into his palm to punctuate each of his points. “Speed. Force of will. Single-minded focus. Your buddy with his shock collar and voice command would have zero—and hear me when I say this, White—he would have had zero shot of breaking up two dogs as powerful and as tenacious as those dog breeds are. Rory was guarding his pack—me, Kira, and Beatrice.”

  Rory decided he needed to add his two cents. A growl rumbled in his chest, then he gave two sharp warning barks.

  Ty put his hand on Rory’s head, and he quieted but not without a stomp of his foot to show he was displeased with what was happening.

  “I hear you. Okay?” White said. “I’m sorry. I should have passed that by you. My thinking was that you would be more natural if you didn’t know.”

  “But you did it on purpose.”

  “Ty.” She tipped her head to the side and sent him a patient smile. “Look, you have to remember we are tasked with pulling a magic rabbit out of a hat. You have to go from complete stranger to trusted, comfortable, wonderful person with only two more days to go. By Thursday night, you must be invited by Kira onto the Davidson’s jet and fly to the boogieman on Friday. There are more than the normal hurdles to get you there.”

  “Name one.”

  “You’re a man, and she’s a woman. She will be traveling to a Muslim part of the country. It’s indiscreet. That has ramifications to her honor.”

  Ty tipped his head back as he processed. He’d worked in a half-dozen Muslim countries. He knew that there could be backlash against a woman who was seen with, let alone traveled with, a man who was not her relative.

  “Kira is stressed. She’s overwhelmed. She’s imbued in her personal crisis. You have to puncture through that with such a force that she can’t ignore you. It will take every manipulation I can conjure up to get you invited onto that plane. And that moment of fear was necessary.”

  “How exactly?”

  When Ty pushed his hips back against the lowboy and crossed his arms over his chest, Rory looked up at him, read the change of mood, sent one more suspicious glance toward White, then laid down at Ty’s feet.

  “It’s a play on social science that indicates that one of the brain systems that affect falling in love is stimulated by adrenaline and norepinephrine. Typically couples stimulate those hormones while they date by trying exciting and novel things together. Let’s try this new restaurant. Let’s go…wherever. It’s the doing of novel things while depending on each other that gets the job done.”

  “And that’s your idea of exciting?”

  “Sure, well, she had an adrenaline dump.”

  “So did I.”

  “Yeah, sorry. Are you taking the antidepressants?”

  Ty tipped his head.

  “I’m pretty certain Kira has never been center stage at a dog fight before. That checks two boxes. And I was able to check a third one from a different study. That one says that when things went well, Kira—and you, again, sorry—would produce dopamine. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter that is secreted when falling in love. Oh!”

  She clambered off the bed and went to the kitchen cabinet, where she pointed at a white box with a deep rose-colored satin ribbon. It was the same-colored ribbon as the dress and shoes Kira was wearing earlier.

  “You said you weren’t going to video us.”

  White opened her eyes wide. “I didn’t.”

  “How’d you choose this color of ribbon?”

  “Oh, well, I had a watcher photographing Kira at the coffee shop, so I could cue my helpers to be in place at the dog park.”

  “Chocolate and love?”

  “Chocolate produces dopamine and endorphins.” She waggled her brow. “And so does good sex.”

  He skipped over the sex comment and pointed at the box. “Take that with the rose? It feels like I’m trying too hard.”

  “Nope, you’re right. Rose tonight, chocolates are for the next step.”

  “Which is?” Ty turned to get Rory’s dinner together. He had just enough time to feed and walk Rory, get Rory settled in his crate, and get himself spiffed up and down the road to show up at exactly nineteen hundred hours for Kira.

  His heart started pounding at the thought.

  “Tonight, let the conversation be warm and comfortable, basic get to know you banter. Remembering you just met her and know nothing about her. Also, remember to spend most of the time listening. Ask questions that you’re genuinely interested in hearing about. Kira can read you like a book. And she has a Ph.D. in book reading.”

  Rory was watching Ty’s preparations with intensity.

  “I’m okay with not speaking.” He cracked the spoon on the side of the metal bowl to dislodge the meat then rinsed the spoon under the faucet. “Chow now.” He set the bowl on the sliver of kitchen tile flooring.

  Rory came over and sat in front of his bowl.

  “Say grace,” Ty commanded.

  Rory wrapped his paws around his snout. Ty counted to three then said, “Okay, buddy. Dig in.”

  “To further trigger Kira’s brain to see you as trustworthy and connected, you’ll have to uphold your side of the conversation. I’m not worried about that. But I’d like you to be aware of your body. Humans tend to mirror each other—it’s a natural inclination. You need to do it consciously. It’s believed to help make strong social bonds.”

  “You don’t think that will make her feel…odd?” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

  He saw landmines ahead. Danger signs.

  While there was a lot more that White was obviously not sharing, Ty thought she was giving him an extra slice of the need-to-know pie. White surely had her reasons. And it probably had to do with her setting him up to fall in love with a Qatari princess—royal, whatever. He had to understand, and he needed to own this as fact: Kira was not for him.

  She could never be for him.

  And if he were to fall in love with her—and boy could he see that as a real possibility—his love would be a burden to bear and nothing else.

  He turned and washed his hands at the sink.

  Yeah, given his druthers, he’d rather parachute into a tree, run from rebel rifle strafe, throw himself into a helicopter that might or might not be flyabl
e any day rather than be given this particular mission. He’d never been ordered into anything like this position. His job was about intellectual and physical challenges. Emotions had little space on the battlefield.

  Ty had been thinking about Kira non-stop since the ice cream scheme. He couldn’t wait for his next task so he could spend more time just being near her.

  Man, this was going to hurt bad.

  “Get dressed,” White said. “Outfit four.”

  Ty went to the closet. There, he pulled out a pair of dark grey trousers and a long-sleeved light blue silk shirt. Belt. Shoes. Quality. Simple. The pants looked small…

  He started toward the bathroom.

  “Hey, undershorts and socks. Number four.”

  “Seriously?”

  “In case you get lucky.”

  “Your job sucks.”

  “At least you understand it’s my job and not me.” She smiled warmly. “Just like I know, you’re not a stone-cold psychopath who enjoys killing people. I know that killing people is your day job, and you come home at night and focus on other things.”

  “Fair, I guess. I’m going to hop in the shower.” He pulled the drawer open and gathered the items.

  A lot was riding on his ability to pull this off. And—who was he kidding—this was middle school girl jitters. Kira made him nervous in a way that hadn’t been part of his world since he was twelve and had a crush on his sister Molly’s dance friend Nina.

  After he dried off, he opened the door again so they could talk.

  “So I don’t know what happened from the point you left the dog park until you came back here. Want to catch me up?” White asked.

  “She was shaky. I walked her home. She invited me in for a glass of iced tea, showed me the project she’s working on, and I left.”

  “Oh good! You quite literally got your foot in the door. That’s an important persuasion technique.”

  “Do I want to hear this? Sounds like something about vampires.”

  “I’m…not following.”

  “Isn’t that part of vampire lore? That a vampire can’t come into your house and suck your blood unless the person invited you into their home?”