by Julie Leto
She was collecting information. Nothing personal. Nothing private.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“How do you not know?”
“Have you ever loved anyone?”
“No,” she replied.
“You answered fast.”
“It wasn’t a difficult question.”
“It is for most people.”
“Only for people who haven’t taken the time to examine their lives in fine detail.”
Now he heard her pain. Loud and clear.
“I loved my mother,” she continued, her voice softening as if her admission was somehow scandalous. “She died when I was young. After her, though, I didn’t love anyone.”
“What about your father?”
Brynn laughed humorlessly. “I was enamored of him. For a time, I worshipped him. But in the end, I hated him.”
Sean nodded. He’d hated his father his entire life.
“What about your brother?”
“Ian?” This time, she did stop to think before she answered. “Yeah, I love him. But that’s new. We’re twins, but I grew up barely knowing him, first thanks to separate boarding schools and then because of my father’s head games. I learned not to trust him. Now, I’m relearning. That’s why we went away together for the holidays…we had a lot of baggage to unload.”
“But you’ve let it go.”
“We’ve started.”
“You’ll get there,” he reassured her, but he wasn’t sure where that belief came from, except that if there was one thing he’d learned about Brynn, it was that she could make anything happen if she wanted it badly enough.
“So you loved your mom, and you’re learning to love your brother,” he said, “but you want me to believe that you never once fell for one of your lovers?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
“You wouldn’t,” he reasoned. “Not unless you needed to, which you don’t. It’s just that you’re clearly no stranger to the art of seduction. Your keen appreciation for pleasures of the flesh did not begin with me.”
His teasing tone hit its target. Brynn grinned, and the smile heated him more than the fire crackling in the hearth.
“There were a few men that I might have fallen for if I’d stuck around long enough. But when you’re trying to live up to your father’s legacy and keep hundreds of analysts, agents and specialists employed, you don’t have time to indulge your personal whims.” She shrugged. “Seems like a tactical error now. A couple of broken hearts might have hardened me up. Prepared me.”
“For?”
“You.”
Unable to stop himself, Sean reached out and caressed her cheek. “It wouldn’t have helped. I’ve lost and lost, cher, and that’s not going to make leaving you tomorrow any easier. In fact, I’m pretty certain it’s going to make it worse.”
Brynn said nothing. She snagged the dried tartan blanket and draped it over them before snuggling into his warmth. He nearly suggested they sleep in shifts or do one last recon before they slept, but instead, he drew her a few inches closer and closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but timing his breathing to hers. For the first time in forever, Sean forgot all about responsibility and duty and protocol and simply enjoyed the feel of a woman falling asleep in his arms.
Ten
The crack of gunfire sent Brynn and Sean diving for cover. Sean had suggested they approach Macy’s house at dawn, on foot, in hopes that her security people would recognize him and let them pass to the front gate.
Clearly, he’d miscalculated.
“What exactly did you do to piss her off?” Brynn asked, spitting dried leaves out of her mouth.
Sean drew his weapon. “You’re asking me now?”
Gunfire crackled again, but this time, Brynn registered that the noise was in the distance. A firefight was going on, but it wasn’t aimed in their direction.
Sean rolled out of the brush. Brynn scooted behind him, pressing her back to his in case someone came up from their rear. He tapped her shoulder, forcing her to follow the line he’d drawn with his gun to point at the remnants of a once-hidden security camera hanging in mangled plastic and metal from the branch of a tree.
“Macy’s under attack,” he concluded.
Brynn’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Because of us?”
Sean didn’t reply. As a former operative herself, Macy was likely a perpetual target, as evidenced by the security measures she’d employed to keep her location secret—measures that she and Sean might have undermined by heading to her private French villa.
Sean tugged Brynn into the center of the gravel and dirt road. Her leg seized, protesting her momentum. She was not a soldier. Her feet slipped underneath her, cracking open the tight scab on her thigh. She cried out, then cursed as Sean turned to check on her.
“Keep going. I’ve got your six,” she shouted.
If Macy was at home, she was there with her newborn child. Brynn might not have been trained by Special Forces, but she did not need advanced training to know that her best course of action was to follow Sean’s lead.
She took a deep breath and ran after him, gun drawn. She growled past her pain until her nervous system overloaded and her body numbed. They crossed over the top of the hill and, at the apex, stopped to assess the scene.
The house was massive. Square-shaped and erected in pale stone, the villa stood like an impenetrable fortress, despite the fact that its battlements were being bombarded by bullets fired from a pair of black SUVs parked in the drive. A sniper positioned at a third floor window popped off a few shots, but as Brynn and Sean watched, a split second later, blood splattered the glass beside him and he slumped, dead, over the sill.
The intricately carved front door, ajar and off one hinge, bore the unmistakable marks of an explosion. Whoever had descended onto the villa had used maximum firepower to gain entrance.
“We’re outgunned,” Brynn assessed.
“Macy has at least three security guards on the property at all times,” Sean said.
Brynn frowned. “Now she has two.”
Sean schooled his expression to one of blank indifference, but Brynn could feel the tension radiating off his skin. “She probably has more if Dante is out of the country. And her personal bodyguard won’t leave her side.”
“Then won’t we just be in the way?” she asked, not wanting to sound petulant, but Brynn had to play devil’s advocate. Sean might be able to tell the good guys from the bad guys, but she would be going in blind.
“We have the element of surprise,” he insisted. “Might as well use it.”
An unmistakable gleam lit Sean’s eyes to a brilliant gunmetal gray. Brynn had seen his lust before, but nothing like this. Sean had a weapon in his hand and an enemy to vanquish. With his body at a peak of strength, she knew she couldn’t stop him, even if she wanted to.
She didn’t have time to decide if she was afraid or aroused. “What if I fire on Macy’s men?” she asked.
“Just follow my lead.”
As if those three words outlined a plan worthy of brilliant military strategists, he tore off into the misty morning.
They crouched low as they ran down the drive. No one in the SUVs noticed their approach from behind until it was too late. Sean took down the man firing from behind the driver side door, leaving the second assailant, covered by the bumper of the second vehicle, to Brynn.
With the enemy outside neutralized, Sean stormed into the house. Brynn followed. She noticed the smooth marble floors in the entry way only because her shoes slipped in a pool of blood.
Two security guards, dressed in light gray suits, stood at the top of a grand staircase, partially shielded by thick archways while they fired on three assailants moving upward, protected by Kevlar vests, helmets and what looked like riot shields.
As if from a movie, one of the bodyguards surged forward, screaming as he shot from a weapon in each ha
nd. His sacrifice came to nothing as his body, ripped by gunfire, shook then tumbled to the ground.
Sean went right, slid partially beneath the stairs and fired. Brynn dashed to her left, ducking behind a column before she swung around to aim at the man holding up the rear. Her first two shots went wide, pinging off the decorative vases perched on the ends of the bannisters, but the third hit his thigh. He screamed and flailed, but before his partner ten steps above him could return fire, Sean eliminated him with a perfectly aimed bullet to the neck.
The third attacker had reached the top of the stairs. He spun to confront the unexpected gunfire from below. As Sean had predicted, the bodyguard used the distraction to take him out. Bullets tore through his protective gear, shaking his body like a rag doll before he tumbled halfway down the marble.
Sean broke the bloody silence by shouting, “Jarek, it’s me!” from below.
“Show yourself!” the man ordered.
Brynn tucked herself back behind the column. From the side, she watched Sean come out, his hands high and his chest exposed but his weapon still in his grip.
“Just call me the cavalry, buddy.”
“Devlin?”
The bodyguard took two tentative steps forward, grinning once he fully recognized Sean. He came down the stairs with a grace that belied his tall, bulky body, checking the pulse of the two nearest assailants and giving the bodies a kick once he was sure they were dead.
The third man, the one Brynn had shot, writhed on the ground. Sean kicked his weapon out of reach but otherwise ignored him.
“Where’s Macy?” Sean asked.
“Why are you here?” Jarek demanded.
“To find Dante. What happened?”
Sean took a couple of steps toward Jarek but signaled for Brynn to remain behind.
“Who is with you?” Jarek demanded, raising his weapon so that the barrel was pointed directly at Sean’s head.
“Brynn Blake, the head of Titan International. She was hired to protect me.”
Jarek snorted and lowered his gun. “Who would take that crap job?”
Brynn took the insult as her invitation to emerge. She made a vain attempt to smooth down her hair and brush the dirt from her clothes, but she figured she looked more like the CEO of a society of outdoor enthusiasts than that of a top-level security firm.
As first impressions went, this had to be her worst.
“I was hired by Dante Burke. Or at least, I thought I was.”
Jarek’s piercing black eyes narrowed. If they’d been on even ground, his height would have been intimidating. As it was, he stood halfway up a grand staircase, making him seem like a giant.
“When?”
“Six weeks ago,” Brynn replied.
Jarek shook his head. “Couldn’t have been Dante. He’s been underground for nearly two months.”
“We figured that out a couple of days ago,” Sean said. “That’s why we came to see Macy, to find out what was going on. Where is she?”
Jarek’s gaze drove into the man near Brynn who continued to whimper and grab at his bloodied thigh. A thick, smeared pool of blood surrounded him. She’d hit an artery. He likely didn’t have much longer to live.
Sean reached him first, tearing off the facial shield. Brynn stepped nearer, wincing at his pale, contorted face. When his eyes met Sean’s, they both cursed. The assailant reached for his weapon, but it was long gone.
And a split second later, so was he.
Sean had put a bullet in his brain.
“I could have interrogated him,” Jarek complained.
Sean spat, his saliva landing on the dead man’s face. “This bastard got his jollies attaching electrodes to my ‘nads and zapping me with two hundred and forty volts. He had nothing useful to say.”
Jarek smirked. “We could have repaid the favor.”
Sean turned his back. Brynn didn’t know if he was scanning the house for more threats or if he’d simply seen enough.
“He wouldn’t have lasted that long. Who are these bastards?”
“I was hoping you knew,” Jarek replied. “Sons of bitches just showed up this morning, took out our video feed and descended on us like locusts. I barely had time to get Macy and the baby out of here before they busted through the door.”
“Where’s Macy now?”
A horn blared from outside. Sean ordered Brynn to stay behind him, but Jarek tore out through the front entry and around the twin SUVs without raising his weapon. A sleek, navy Landrover screeched to a stop just short of the assailant’s cars, kicking up gravel and dust and obscuring the view of the driver.
Jarek tore open the passenger side door, revealing a cool brunette with piercing blue eyes behind the wheel.
“Get in,” she ordered.
Brynn had to assume the woman was the indomitable Macy Burke—especially when Sean, instead of following her orders, grabbed the top of the door and leaned against it casually, exuding the full store of his roguish charm.
“Hey, Mace,” he said. “Great morning for a gunfight, don’t you think?”
Macy shook her head, immune. “As if my morning couldn’t get any worse. Sean Devlin, you are a pain in my—” She stopped herself then glanced into the backseat. Brynn caught the curve of what looked like a baby seat. “Assuming you aren’t enjoying the blood and guts, too,” Macy said, calling over Sean to Brynn, “I don’t suppose you’d like to get out of here before any more gunmen show up?”
Brynn yanked Sean out of her way and took the shotgun seat beside Macy.
She held out her hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Macy returned her handshake and then nodded so that Jarek ran around to the back and folded himself into the hatch, an area that would fit a standard refrigerator but had trouble accommodating Macy’s bodyguard.
Sean had no choice but take the seat on the other side of the sleeping child. He could face down his torturers with no compunction, but a baby sucking noisily on a pacifier? His face paled.
Macy threw the car into gear. Brynn stretched to look at the baby in the rear-facing car seat and cooed at her sinfully long lashes and china-doll cheeks.
“She’s beautiful,” she said.
Despite the lines of fatigue that grew visible as the car drove through a swatch of sunlight, Macy’s smile was soft and proud. “I never thought I was cut out for breaking the maternal instinct code, but it ends up that the baby comes with a secret cipher to your heart. At least, this one did.”
Brynn glanced back at Sean, who was turned halfway in his seat, as if he couldn’t put enough distance between him and the child. Outwardly, he seemed to be checking the landscape for any signs of danger. Inwardly, however, Brynn suspected Sean simply didn’t want to get caught making goo-goo eyes.
Macy, on the other hand, adjusted the rearview mirror and snorted. “She won’t bite.”
Sean’s expression was doubtful. “Only because she doesn’t have teeth.”
“Who were those men who attacked you?” Brynn asked, changing the subject. Theoretically, she liked children. A good portion of Titan’s business revolved around retrieving kidnapping victims from non-custodial parents. But as she had very little contact with her youngest clients, she wasn’t sure if her feelings toward them were any less terrified than Sean’s.
Macy drove straight for a thick bank of trees. From a distance, there appeared to be no break in the trunk line, but just before they crashed, Macy swung the steering wheel hard to the right, spinning the high-performance vehicle into a space that seemed designed precisely for the width of her vehicle. In an instant, they were doused in darkness. The headlights flared, but their dim beam barely extended ten feet.
Macy seemed to drive from memory, skillfully swerving around a jutting rock as she turned to say to Sean, “Funny, but I was hoping you would tell me.”
Eleven
The old wine cellar was built into the side of a mountain, just deep enough into the stone that even Sean accepted the parka Jarek offered a
fter they’d parked the Landrover. Macy hit a switch that closed a pair of twelve-foot wooden doors behind them, and after expertly bundling the baby, she flipped a switch and flooded the cave with dim but adequate light.
“There’s a tunnel that leads from the house to this cavern,” she told them as she grabbed the diaper bag and directed them toward an interior room. “When the perimeter was breached, I brought the baby here and watched on the monitors until it was safe to go back. Where’s Kyle?”
Jarek’s face was stone. “Gone.”
Macy grabbed his arm. Their shared grief was quick but powerful.
Brynn looked away. She knew the unique agony of losing someone who’d been following her orders.
“I shouldn’t have sent Nino and Foster to the south wall. It was a diversion.”
Jarek stalked to the other side of the cavern, pushed a key into the lock of a fortified gun safe and retrieved ammunition for his gun.
“They might still be alive,” he said.
“No,” Macy ordered, her voice devoid of the sadness Brynn could see welling in her eyes. “Boot up the communication center first. Try to contact them via radio. I don’t want you walking into a trap.”
She took the baby out of her carrier and held her close. She’d started to fuss, probably from being trussed up like an Eskimo papoose.
Macy led Sean and Brynn into a safe room where she had them help her unpack supplies like powdered baby formula and instant coffee. Jarek slid behind a keyboard set beneath a series of monitors, tapping until, one after the other, various views of the property came online. Heat poured from an electric heater. Sean helped Macy set up a portable crib far enough from the device to be safe but close enough so that the child, who Brynn now held, would be warm.
“What’s her name?” Brynn asked, jiggling the baby a little, which helped to settle the restlessness of not being in her mother’s arms.
“Abby,” Macy replied. She dug a blanket out of the diaper bag, spread it across the bottom of the crib and then reached out for her child. “She’s named after my mentor, Abercrombie Marshall. Did you know him, Sean?”