Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
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Lethally Yours
An Omega Team Novella
Denise A. Agnew
To my husband Terry, who supports my writing journey every step of the the way.
Thanks go to Desiree Holt for welcoming me into the Omega Team Kindle World.
Thanks, also, to Megan Parker-Squiers for the fantastic cover.
Contents
The Omega Team
This Navy SEAL will move heaven and earth to protect her…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About the Author
The Omega Team
Grey Holden was raised to believe in honor and duty and the dedication of men to fighting evil. Both his father and grandfather taught him the tradition of the Omega Male, men who carry a resourcefulness, cunning and strength to get a job done with their own skill. They take great pride in what they do without it manifesting as "ego." They differ from the typical Alpha Male who MUST absolutely be perceived by his peers as the toughest, most popular, and smartest. An Omega Male cares little for this recognition...but knows that he is all those things and more. It’s what made him a good soldier and what makes him a good security and covert agent. Athena Madero fits perfectly into his world. They meet when separately they are trying to prove that a wealthy and high profile political figure is actually The Snake, a shadowy arms dealer whose weapons armed the insurgents that Grey was fighting in Afghanistan.
They form The Omega Team, an agency that takes on even the most dangerous cases. They draw as members of the team former military such as Delta Force, SEALs, Force Recon Marines, Coast Guard, Night Stalkers and others, law enforcement and private security who have the same code of conduct and dedication they do. They will also work with similar agencies on some joint ventures. Headquartered in Tampa, Florida, they accept assignments all over the world, no matter how dangerous.
This Navy SEAL will move heaven and earth to protect her…
After leaving the Navy SEALS because of an injury, Nathan “Red” McKay has found some peace working as a bartender and forgetting how useless he sometimes feels not being a part of a team anymore. It doesn’t help that Katie Slane stirs feelings in him he’s tried to resist.
Katie Slane left her stressful nursing job to assist her uncle in running his bar. Months of rubbing shoulders with drop-dead-sexy Nathan McKay has created a secret yearning inside her for the ex-military man that just won’t quit.
When the Omega Team asks for Nathan’s help in discovering if Katie’s uncle is a part of the Irish mafia, Nathan’s loyalties are strained and his growing attraction for Katie is put in jeopardy.
Stakes are high, and now that Katie’s life is in the balance, Nathan discovers he’ll move heaven and earth to keep her safe.
One
Katie Slane struggled with the garbage as she hauled the overstuffed bag out of the back door of Slane’s Watering House. At least she’d managed to prop open the door with a big ass rock. Today had been one exhausting day out of an exhausting week at the pub, but at least two in the morning—closing time—hovered right around the corner. Through the open door, she heard the bee-like buzz of patrons talking, laughing and trying to forget the world beyond their wine, beer and shots. Country music played in the background. The night in front of her seemed suddenly lonely despite the noise coming from the bar.
The back alley lighting sucked, and she hesitated a minute just outside the door. A chill raced over her skin. October in Tampa wasn’t cold, but something uncomfortable and uneasy raced over her body. Her gaze darted about the alleyway, but she didn’t see anything unusual. Well, it was almost Halloween. Perfect way to get in the mood, right? Uncle Malcolm had already broken out the decorations. Katie had volunteered to put them up in the pub.
Hurry up.
The slight prickling of fear guaranteed she wouldn’t linger. She took the few steps to the huge green garbage dumpster and attempted to lift the lid. It resisted her efforts. She’d never had to lift the damn thing before. Still, she quickened her efforts.
“What are you doing out here?”
She almost shrieked, jumping as a man’s form came from behind the other side of the dumpsters. When his big, muscular frame appeared, she put one hand up to her chest. Anger followed.
“God, Nathan. You big goof. You scared the crap out of me,” she said.
Without speaking, Nathan “Red” McKay lifted the dumpster lid like it weighed no more than a paper plate. He glared at her and held his hand out. She tossed the trash bag at him, and he caught it easily. With one smooth move, he heaved the refuse in the dumpster and closed the lid quietly.
He strolled closer to her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Obviously taking out the trash. Why are you here? I thought it was your night off.”
He shifted until his over six-foot tall body edged into her personal space. “Dicky is supposed to take the trash out.”
Determined not to show him how his proximity affected her, she stood her ground and looked up into his blue eyes. “Well, he’s not here.”
He ran a hand through his short, red hair. Those blue eyes flashed once more, his anger clear. “Shit. Again?”
“Again. Uncle Malcolm won’t fire his ass. He’s a good cook. We need him.” She placed her hands on her waist.
He sighed and mimicked her stance. She wished he wouldn’t. It made her too aware of him as a man. A tattoo along his outer forearm was the only mark on his skin. It was some military thing her uncle said, but she hadn’t asked Nathan. His big, strong hands rested on his waist.
The plain white t-shirt he wore stretched with loving affection across wide shoulders and showed his finely-honed muscular frame. In six months, she’d never seen him without a shirt, but her imagination worked perfectly well. He was ripped. His legs looked muscular in those jeans, and the brown boots on his feet looked like they could take him through a Middle Eastern desert with no problem. All of that was delicious, and any woman with an ounce of red blood cells would acknowledge it. A short red mustache and beard added to his rugged features and made him appear even more ready to kick ass and take names. Something animal inside her always responded to him, and it pissed her off. She hated being out of control, but when he walked in bam that was it. Her body, her mind—every damned thing inside her acted like a teenage girl crushing on the high school football player.
“Doesn’t mean your uncle can’t come down on him,” Nathan said, his voice firm.
“Uncle Malcolm is trying to keep the business alive the best way he can. He trusts Dicky and he trusts me to help and do a good job. He’s not above giving us a little slack.” The mischievous and prickly part of her chimed in with, “As for why he thinks you’re all that and a bag of chips, I don’t know.”
Immediately his eyes narrowed. “Because he’s got an excellent bullshit meter. He knows when people are telling him the truth.”
A challenged leapt into her mind. “Do you?”
Another step closer and oh, my. She could smell his musk or whatever aft
ershave he used. It was subtle, but it always did amazing things to her senses. Unable to resist, she drew in a deep breath.
“Hell, yeah. I think that’s one of the reason’s why your uncle likes me. He knows he can rely on me to work hard, work quickly, and show up on time,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
She hadn’t expected that question. It left her with her mouth hanging open slightly, and her mind blank. Just having him this close did seriously strange things to her ability to stay on an even keel.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t know. After all, what do I really know about you?”
“Everything you need to know.”
That last bit, added in a low voice, made her skin prickle. Not in the way it would if she feared for her safety. She didn’t know a ton about him, even in the six months he’d worked at the pub. Yet for some reason, she knew deep inside she could trust him with her safety. So why couldn’t she trust everything else about him?
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “Katie…you’re not afraid of me, right? I’d never hurt you.”
She crossed her arms. “I know.”
And she did know that. Still, the way he looked at her now, as if he wanted to understand everything possible to know about her, made her switch gears.
“Seriously,” she said around a dry throat. “You didn’t explain why you’re out here on your night off.”
One corner of his mouth tried to smile, then gave up. “Your uncle called me. The birthday crowd in there is getting a little rowdy. He wants me to act as a bouncer. I was coming around the back way because I thought I saw someone down here. Turned out it was you.”
She glanced at her wrist watch. “Closing time is coming up. He waited a little bit late to ask, didn’t he?”
He shrugged. “I was free. I’m happy to help.”
“You must’ve been up already. You don’t look like you were in bed.”
As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Humor filled his eyes, and he cracked a genuine smile. Wow. Every time he smiled, which didn’t happen often, she felt heat track all over her body and pool in her breasts and her lower belly. There was something so damned compelling about him when he broke out a sense of humor. She didn’t like her automatic reaction and didn’t want it. She did like him. He’d proven reliable, her uncle thought the sun rose and set on Nathan because of their mutual military background, she supposed.
“I was in bed, but I’m used to moving quickly when I have to,” he said.
What could she say to that? “Mister military.”
He shrugged. “Not anymore. I’m totally done with all of that.”
“Working in a pub is a step back, isn’t it?”
“Nah. It’s calm. It’s less stress.”
“Back to work, then.” She started to turn away.
“Don’t come out here at night again.”
She didn’t know if she’d heard him right. “What?”
“Don’t come out here at night without me.”
Anger triggered. “Don’t boss me around.”
His eyes sparked a little, and Katie knew she’d hit a nerve. “It’s dangerous.”
“What is it about you, Nathan? You’re always acting like the bogeyman hides around every corner.”
“He does. Looking for women to snack on.”
She sighed. “Don’t patronize me. I’m an adult, I have common sense, and I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself. I’m saying…” Those hard emerald eyes softened a little. “If anything happened to you, your uncle would be devastated.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” Her voice lowered almost to a whisper. She was taken off guard by his gentle tone. “Now I’m going back to work.”
She turned quickly and promptly snagged her athletic shoe on the step into the building. She didn’t have time to squeak before she started to fall. Strong arms snagged her, and a second later, she was pressed against a wall of hard male chest. His arms held her tight. God, he felt amazing. Her palms landed on his broad shoulders. He smelled like a million bucks. She had to look up, because even though she was five seven, he was at least six foot two or three. She expected him to release her right away, but instead their eyes connected, and she couldn’t deny the pure male interest she saw in his gaze. Her nipples tightened and tingled and that treacherous heat pooled low in her belly.
Whoa.
The way he looked at her sent her into a spiral of confusion. She’d always wondered if those glances she got from him contained anger or attraction. In his case it was hard to tell. She’d always considered him the bartender, sometimes bouncer, ex-military dude with mystery written all over him. Strong. Silent. Independent. Right at this moment, he was so alive, so warm, so hard. So…sexy, that her toes wanted to curl. His gaze dropped to her mouth, stayed there for a breath.
“You’re right. We’d better get back to work,” he said softly. He released her quickly.
Trembling inside, she entered the bar and went straight to the ladies room. She wandered through a gambit of people. Her uncle cut off the drinks an hour ahead of time, hoping a lot of them would sober up before they left. So far none of their patrons had died in DUI related accidents in the thirty years he’d owned the bar. A remarkable feat. She entered the bathroom and looked around. No one else was in the four stalls, thank goodness. She needed a few seconds to find her balance and to manage her emotions better. Nathan seemed to manipulate them so easily. Correction. Nathan didn’t toy with her emotions. She just let him matter more than he should. She could never be around Nathan without feeling that undeniable combination of pissed off and panty-melting attraction.
She straightened her spine and determined it was time to return to the bar, even if she had to work with crazy-making Nathan all night.
Nathan stood near the bar and surveyed the pub with the eagle-eye that had served him well in the Navy. He crossed his arms and braced his feet. Tonight he paid particular attention to the way people walked, talked and looked. He might not be in Afghanistan or Iraq or any other war torn country, but his need to protect his own six and everyone else’s hadn’t diminished. Irish music had replaced country, and the change seemed to pump people up rather than calm them.
Tonight Malcolm Slane bartended—he liked to keep fresh. Owning a bar wasn’t enough for the old Irishman. Hell, Malcolm was the pub. Without him it wouldn’t be the same. In the six months Nathan had worked as a bartender and sometimes bouncer at Slane’s Watering House, he’d discovered the sixty-something man had integrity, honesty, and an incredible work ethic Nathan admired. Malcolm had once worked in the steel industry in Chicago, and when opportunities dried up, he decided to work for himself. At least he knew what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.
Nathan didn’t know what he’d do for the rest of his.
One day at a time. One step at a time.
Nathan’s gaze wandered away from the busy, noisy tables to the female form gliding with incredible grace through the crowd. His breath caught. His body tightened, his cock hardening a little as he remembered how Katie had felt pressed against him. Oh. Hell. Yeah. Every inch of that lush, delicious body had touched him. He’d almost…yeah, almost kissed her. Then he’d chickened out.
Way to go SEAL.
In another time, he would’ve taken the kiss. Not that he ever kissed a woman against her will. Fuck no. He wasn’t an asshole. He grinned. Okay, he could be an asshole in the right circumstances. Just not with women.
This particular woman…holy crap. Katie defined classy. Smart, stubborn and willing to do whatever it took to get the job done. He loved that in a woman. He hadn’t met a female like her in a long time, primarily because his work as a Navy SEAL made maintaining a full time relationship difficult.
Former work, dude. Former work as a SEAL.
Still, he couldn’t stop watching her tonight, and that made him wary. He’d lost his edge, his ability to detect trouble when Katie was
around…yeah, that was in jeopardy. Months working here hadn’t diminished his admiration for her.
Watching Katie move about the pub with single-minded efficiency five to six days a week made Nathan crazy. Everything about the tall, black haired, slim woman screamed competent, self-contained and endlessly energetic. Tonight she’d defied him, challenged him as she always did. He didn’t like that she’d been outside in the dark by herself. It scared him how much he wanted to protect her even though he knew she could handle herself.
He knew that she liked him. That she considered him a friend. Still, there was something prickly in her demeanor when she was around him that he didn’t understand. He wanted to peel back all her layers one by one.
A dish crashed to the floor, and he jerked to attention, on line and ready. He scanned the room. Someone had dropped a beer bottle and glass had gone flying. Katie was warning people away from a spill. She smiled at the older couple sitting at the table where the bottle mishap occurred. She waved away something they said, and he knew it had to be paying for another drink. She’d get them another without charge. He sprang into action, ready to help. He went for the cleanup supplies and arrived at the table with a towel, broom and dustpan. Katie threw him a brilliant smile, and his heart picked up speed as he helped clean the mess. Her grin held no sarcasm or animosity, only genuine appreciation. God, he loved it when she was happy with him. Hell, he loved it even when she wasn’t.
That freaked him out most of all.
A twenty-something woman stumbled out of Slane’s Watering House in Tampa, Florida that night without a care in the world. She didn’t care because she could barely feel herself walking, could hardly detect her heartbeat, her fingers, her legs, her toes. She had a general idea where her car might be in the packed full parking lot next to the building. She’d lost her sense of direction for some crazy reason and found herself wandering down the alley past the dumpsters. She didn’t know why.
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