by Katie Knight
This whole mission had been a cluster from the start. When his SEAL team was called in to rescue an American woman hiding in a village in Costa Rica, he hadn’t anticipated getting cut off from his team and forced to flee with the woman in tow. But at least she was calm and cooperative. When he’d read her dossier and saw she was the only daughter of notorious and wealthy mob boss Stefan Engel, he’d worried she’d be spoiled. So far though, Sam had been quiet and unassuming, like she preferred to blend into the background instead of shine like a star.
He took another swig of soda and rubbed his eyes, taking the time now to think about her big dark eyes, her soft pink lips, her smooth skin that seemed to beg for his touch…
Whoa. Wait a minute there, cowboy.
Yeah, he wasn’t going there. Things with their current situation were screwed up enough as it was. Sleeping with a target wouldn’t help any of that, no matter how attractive he found her. There was something about the quiet ones that always got him right in the feels.
Shaking off his unwanted attraction, Jack walked into the living room, setting his soda down on the coffee table before walking into the bedroom and searching the drawers for something she could put on after her shower. Unexpected images of Sam—wet and warm and covered in nothing but soap bubbles, floated through his head. Shit. It had been too long since he’d gotten laid. That had to be it. After pulling out an Army green T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, he carried them to the bathroom door and laid them on the floor for her, as he’d promised. They’d be way too big on her petite frame, but at least she’d be covered in something clean.
God. Stefan Engel’s daughter. He slumped down on the couch and scrubbed a hand over his buzz-cut dark hair. As a young kid growing up in Nebraska, he’d sure as hell never pictured himself ending up with a gangster’s daughter under his protection. As he stared at the wall across from him, Jack couldn’t help remembering her father’s ever-growing list of supposed crimes—tied to more than two dozen murders and disappearances, none of which could be proven until his daughter stepped forward. She was supposed to be on a research vessel two hundred miles up the coast studying plankton or whatever it is biology researchers do, not in a village hiding from gunmen.
Jack heard the bathroom door open, but kept his vision firmly on the TV in front of him, not daring to glance at the woman down the hall. Checked his watch. It was close to midnight now. No wonder he was beat. He’d sleep out here, of course, even uncomfortable as it was. Let her have the bedroom.
“Uh, thanks for the stuff,” Sam said, walking into the living room at last, the T-shirt and sweatpants all but engulfing her. Her skin was still dewy from the shower, her cheeks pink and her hair damp, and a pang of lust, sharp and strong, clenched his gut. Jack didn’t think he’d ever seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. Which was stupid, because he’d seen plenty of women—and had done a whole lot more than just look. The fact things never worked out with them had nothing to do with it.
Still, there was something about Sam that held him mesmerized.
She glanced at his soda then back to his eyes again. “Any more of those available?”
“Oh, um, sure.” He got up and walked to the kitchen. She followed. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” she said, tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ear.
“Cool.” He set the oven to high and unwrapped a frozen pepperoni pizza. “This good?”
“Perfect.” She took a seat on a chair at the table. “Anything I can do?”
“Nope.” He shoved the pizza in the oven without waiting for the dinger, feeling more nervous than he could remember being for some reason. With both of them in the room, it seemed even smaller than normal. They both drank their sodas, staring at each other over the rims of their bottles, as awkwardness descended. “Uh, so you study plankton?” he said, for lack of anything better.
Smooth, dumbass.
He didn’t know plankton from pickles. He liked to surf; that was about it when it came to the ocean for him.
She tilted her head to the side. “Yeah. It’s part of my research for my PhD. I want to be a marine biologist someday.”
“Wow. That’s impressive. You must be super smart.”
Sam shrugged and stared down at the tabletop, her shyness making her even more endearing to him, if that were possible. Man, he had it bad for this girl already. “So, what about you? I mean I know you’re a SEAL and all, but did you go to college?”
He swallowed hard and looked away. “I did. Got a bachelor’s degree in education.”
“Really?” She smiled and the night brightened around him a bit. “You want to be a teacher?”
“Someday. Maybe. I don’t know.” He checked the pizza in the oven. Almost done. “I like training people in the military, so we’ll see.”
Minutes later, they’d dished up the food and sat across from each other at the table. He’d finished off his first soda and started on a second. The sugar and caffeine fizzed pleasantly through his system, the familiar, comforting taste enough to loosen his tongue a bit and relax his tight muscles.
“Taste all right?” he asked around a bite of pizza.
“Yep.” She grinned, sucking in a stringy piece of cheese. He did his best not to imagine other things she might use those pretty pink lips on, other things she might suck and lick and… “No one’s cooked for me in a long time.”
And now he felt like a complete ass, sitting here drooling over the woman when she had way too much on her plate as it was, despite the fact she kept giving him those coy little looks that told him she just might be interested in him too.
To distract himself, he asked her more questions about herself. “Didn’t your mom ever cook for you?”
“She did—but then she died of cancer when I was twelve.” Sam gave a sad little sigh and he wanted to kick himself. He knew that from the dossier. He’d just been too discombobulated around her to remember. Idiot. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind talking about it. “After that, my grandparents raised me. But they were always busy at the theme park they ran, so most times I had to fend for myself.”
He nodded. “I get that. It was just my mom and me growing up. With her working to support us, I spent most nights going to work with her and eating there while I did my homework. I still cook when I’m home—but I’m away a lot, so I’ve gotten used to taking whatever comes my way.”
“Hmm,” she said with a smile of agreement. “So where’s home?”
“Small town in Nebraska called Rally.” He washed down another bite of food with a swallow of soda, then grinned. “Great place. No one locks their doors because crime is so low. Everyone knows everyone else and everyone’s friendly. Very safe. When I’m on leave, it’s nice to just kick back and let my guard down, you know?”
“Wow. That sounds amazing.” Her wistful tone tugged at his heart. “Way different from the southside of Chicago, that’s for sure.”
For the next half hour or so, they discussed her hometown and his, discovering that they actually did have more in common than Jack had first thought. He loved baseball and the Cubs were his favorite team. Hers too. She told him about the games she’d been to as a kid. He told her about playing on his little league team back in Nebraska. Turns out she’d played too. She talked about her research on marine animals and he told her about the tropical fish he’d raised when he was ten. By the time they were down to their last slices of pizza, he’d almost forgotten that this was a mission, because it suddenly felt a whole lot more like a date. If her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were any indication, she was feeling the warm, simmering attraction growing between them too.
After they finished eating, Sam helped him clean up. The space was tight, and they kept bumping into each other, the word “sorry” filling the air like oxygen—but despite the apologies, neither one was trying very hard to avoid contact. If anything, they both seemed to be seeking excuses to touch in small ways. Once they were done and everything was put away, they walked out into
the living room. The low murmur of crickets and cicadas from the rainforest filtered in from outside.
“Uh, thanks again for dinner. And for rescuing me.” She bounced on the balls of her bare feet for a moment before rising up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Sam lingered there, her warm breath fanning his face, her dark eyes luminous as she stared at him. Her lips were parted and looked so soft, and before he knew what he was doing, Jack closed the tiny space between them. She tasted of salt from the food and sweet desire. Sam moaned low and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.
Summoning his last vestiges of common sense, Jack pulled back before he couldn’t anymore.
Sam lowered down to flat feet, her expression so lost and sad he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and never let her go. Which was ridiculous. They were virtually strangers. This was a mission. A job. She had her life and he had his. After tonight they’d get back to them, no looking back, no questions asked.
And how is that different from every other one-night stand you’ve had?
Yeah, those thoughts weren’t helpful at all. Not when his pulse was thudding loud in his ears and each time he licked his lips he tasted her there.
“Please,” she said at last, her voice so quiet he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been so attuned to her at that moment. “Please stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”
Maybe if she’d been more brazen, maybe if he’d been stronger, Jack could’ve said no.
As it was, every fiber of his being yearned to be with her, just this one time, just this one night.
Exhaling slow, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let me do a final perimeter check first.”
Her tense posture relaxed slightly and she looked up at him, her smile radiant. “Okay.”
While she headed for the bedroom, he headed outside.
When he returned, Jack saw the bedroom door open a crack, the light streaming out calling to him like a beacon. After a quick shower himself, he grabbed his Bluetooth headset in case his team tried to reach him, then he turned out the lights and padded into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Tomorrow, she’d enter witness protection. He’d never forget her, but he’d never hear from her again.
Tonight, though, she was his.
2
Present day…
Sam slumped in the backseat of the government-issued sedan as they headed down the interstate. The barren land and darkness outside matched the exhaustion inside her. She was being moved again, to another new town, another new life. Her father’s henchmen were relentless, especially now that she had little Glory.
She reached over to fuss with the fuzzy pink blanket wrapped around her six-month-old daughter, who was strapped in beside Sam in her car seat. One of the US marshals in the front seat caught her eye in the rearview mirror. Late forties, dark hair, dark eyes, same drab suit as the rest of the feds she’d encountered over the last year in the program. Meade, he’d said his name was. Most of them were interchangeable, but this dude made her nervous, probably because of the way he kept staring at her. It was weird. And unsettling. Then again, she ought to be used to people staring at her and judging her by now. Guilt by association. Sins of the father must be passed down to the children, right?
Maybe in the case of her older brothers, but not her.
Sam abhorred violence of any kind. That’s why she’d given up the life she knew in order to testify against her family.
And that’s why they were hunting her down.
“Bet you can’t wait until this is all over, huh?” the other agent said to her from behind the wheel. He was younger, maybe thirty-five, with darkish blond hair and glasses. She hadn’t caught his name when he’d said it and didn’t really care to learn it now. Her father’s second trial for bribery and racketeering was about to get underway back in Chicago, so Witness Protection had thought it wise to move Sam and Glory again. She’d be the star witness, given the volatile information she had on him—information that would tie him to the murder of a United States congressman and could put him behind bars for life. Never mind she and Glory had finally just settled in to their latest home in rural Indiana. The feds didn’t care about that, didn’t care that Sam had no stability in her life now, didn’t care that each time she and her daughter were uprooted it took more effort than ever to pretend to be normal.
There were days Sam feared nothing would ever be normal again.
The agent driving turned on his blinker and passed a slower moving vehicle, then switched back to the driving lane again. “Well, don’t worry. Soon you’ll be able to put this all behind you.”
Sam didn’t respond, just stared out at the shadowy cornfields and occasional lights in the distance as the miles flew by and twilight gathered. They were moving her to Nebraska this time. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It was March, and small piles of leftover snow still dotted the empty farm fields here and there. The weather was a bit all over the place too. One day sunny and warm, the next cold and icy. Not that it mattered much. Sam didn’t get outside much these days.
Honestly, she would’ve been happy to move to Mars if it meant keeping her daughter safe from her father and all his evil deeds. God, the man really was insane. She couldn’t wait until he was sentenced and she could finally, truly move on with her life. Until then, she spent most days checking over her shoulder, making sure she hadn’t been followed. Even with a new identity and trained agents protecting her, she didn’t feel truly safe.
But it was a hell of a lot better than being on her own.
So yeah. Witness Protection was the way to go, even if it meant riding around with two strange dudes in the dark in the heartland of America.
“Hey, there’s a rest stop ahead. Pull over,” Agent Meade said, his gaze still locked on Sam in the mirror. Creep. “I need to take a shit.”
Charming.
“Sorry, man. Not a designated stop,” the agent driving said. “Can’t you hold it?”
“I had two chili dogs back in Des Moines. What do you think?”
With a curse, the first marshal signaled again and swerved off onto an exit ramp. They parked in front of a squat cinder block building surrounded by yellowish street lights.
“Thanks. Be right back,” Agent Meade said, getting out and slamming the car door behind him. Glory stirred, but thankfully didn’t awaken.
Sam sat back and watched as the guy walked into the building beneath a sign marked Mens.
Minutes ticked by with no sign of Agent Meade at all. Either he’d fallen in or something else was wrong. Marshal One kept checking his watch, then glancing around the empty parking lot. A low roar filled the air from the interstate behind them, interspersed with the sound of crickets chirping. A slight breeze rustled through the dead wild grasses near the edge of the lawn. Those chili dogs must’ve really done a number on that guy, Sam thought, rolling her eyes.
Finally, the other agent’s patience was at an end. He mumbled something Sam didn’t quite catch then unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. He got out, then leaned back in to gaze at her over the back of the seat. “Stay here. Don’t even think about getting out. I’ll be right back.”
Sam sighed and watched him walk away too. Where the hell did he think she was going to go? There was nothing around here but corn. Another few minutes ticked by. Drowsiness overtook Sam and her eyes started to slide closed. Then…
Bang!
She jolted awake, as did Glory. Between trying to comfort her now squalling daughter and attempting to figure out what the hell had caused that sound, Sam was disoriented. Through the windshield, she saw a man stagger backwards out of the small building. With the glow of those yellowish lights it was hard to tell which marshal it was, the polite one or the creepy one.
Time slowed as Agent Meade appeared, gun in hand to fire once more on his compatriot, this time at point-blank range, putting a bullet right between the other man’s eyes.
Jesus! Shit,
shit, shit!
Fueled by pure panic and adrenaline, Sam scrambled over the seat and behind the wheel, grateful beyond words that the poor driver had left the keys in the ignition. Seeing as how he was dead, she almost wished she’d learned his name now. That thought quickly fled though as Agent Meade turned to run toward her. Sam peeled out of the parking lot and swerved down the entrance ramp onto the interstate, narrowly avoiding smashing into an oncoming semi in the passing lane. The trucker honked and flipped her off, but she couldn’t care about that now. She needed to get the hell out of there, get away, save her baby and herself. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the silhouette of Agent Meade in her rearview mirror, haloed by yellow light watching her flee.
Think, think, think.
Somehow, her father had groomed a turncoat in the marshal’s office. It shouldn’t surprise her, with all his power and connections, and yet it still did. She wasn’t safe. Not here. Maybe not anywhere.
Hands shaking, she fumbled around on the front seat looking for a phone or GPS unit. She found neither.
Of course, the federal government wouldn’t splurge for onboard GPS, and the agents had probably had their cell phones on them. Unfortunately, at this stage in witness protection, Sam’s communication options were strictly limited. She wasn’t allowed a phone of her own. She was barely allowed much of anything, aside from the absolute necessities for herself and Glory…who was still crying at the top of her lungs. Her daughter fed off Sam’s emotions, so she did her best to calm herself, hoping it would eventually calm Glory too. Not easy though, when she kept checking every so many miles to see if they were being followed. Sounded nuts, but hey—so did one US marshal shooting another and that had happened…
Her gut clenched with tension and she punched the accelerator harder. She needed to get off this main thoroughfare and find a safe place to hide for the night. Figure out what to do from here. A green reflective sign shown in the distance, proclaiming the next exit was for a place called Rally. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but with her mind racing from nerves and fear, she couldn’t place from where she’d heard it before. Welp, Rally sounded as good a stop as any at this point.