by C. J. Miller
From classified secrets to unleashed desires…
Elite hacker Kit Walker expects a safe desk job when the government taps her for a classified project. So when Kit’s captured by a cyberterrorist group, she fears for her life and her work. But when gorgeous Griffin Brooks turns up to save her, it’s not only her life that’s in danger…
Griffin was assigned to Kit’s case, but protecting the bashful beauty soon becomes so much more than a job to him. How can he do his duty to guard her when he couldn’t keep his late wife safe from a nefarious killer? As a lethal threat closes in on them both, Griffin and Kit will have to untangle the deadly web of lies—and their growing attraction—if they want to stop their enemy in his tracks.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Connor about his attraction to Kit.
Griffin could keep it in check. He wasn’t a slave to his hormones. Too much was at stake for him to give in to his feelings. Instead, he made the point that mattered most. “My wife died because I couldn’t protect her. What makes you think I can keep Kit safe?”
“This situation is nothing like what happened with Beth. What could you have done differently? No one blames you for Beth’s death except you.”
At the mention of his wife’s name, disgust for himself and anger at her killer renewed. “I ask myself that every day.”
“The answer eludes you because there is no answer. You couldn’t have done anything. What happened with Beth was a terrible atrocity, but protecting Kit will be different. You will be at her side around the clock. She is your sole mission.”
Griffin didn’t care for his body’s response to hearing that. As a red-blooded man, he wanted to be close to Kit. As an operative, he wasn’t qualified to protect her.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Kit Walker is great with technology. But people—not so much. When her past working on a top secret government project comes back to haunt her, Kit has to rely on Griffin Brooks, an operative for the West Company. Kit doesn’t trust him. Her experiences with men have been rocky and Griffin is far too callous and demanding. Except he’s also drop-dead gorgeous, and Kit finds that hard to ignore and makes it even harder to keep her distance from him.
Tough, competent and cool under fire, Griffin has been sent by the West Company to ensure Kit’s safety. Griffin is unexpectedly drawn to the awkward and unassuming woman he has been assigned to protect. Griffin has something to prove to himself and won’t let anything get in the way of his mission. When the operation goes sideways and Griffin and Kit are forced on the run, Griffin must decide to either protect Kit or his heart.
The characters in this book were inspired by the amazing computer scientists I’ve worked with. I hope my fellow geeks find and enjoy their happy endings!
Best,
C.J. Miller
www.CJ-Miller.com
DELTA FORCE
DESIRE
C.J. Miller
C.J. Miller loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website, cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband and three children. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily-ever-after.
Books by C.J. Miller
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
The Coltons of Texas
Colton’s Texas Stakeout
The Coltons: Return to Wyoming
Colton Holiday Lockdown
Hiding His Witness
Shielding the Suspect
Protecting His Princess
Traitorous Attraction
Under the Sheik’s Protection
Taken by the Con
Capturing the Huntsman
Delta Force Desire
Conspiracy Against the Crown
The Secret King
Guarding His Royal Bride
Visit C.J.’s Author Profile page at Harlequin.com,
or cj-miller.com, for more titles.
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To Noelle, for the light, love and joy
you bring to our lives each day.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Excerpt from A SEAL to Save Her by Karen Anders
Chapter 1
Kaitlyn “Kit” Walker was not rocking the slinky, glittery red dress. On the hanger, it had looked great. On her, it was garish and borderline indecent. Kit had left her bedroom wearing it only because her sister Marissa had insisted she blend with her model friends. One problem with that: Kit wasn’t a model. She didn’t even photograph that well.
Kit felt awkward and uncomfortable. She was certain she looked like a sausage stuffed into a too-tiny casing, bulging in the wrong places. All she needed was for the seams or zipper to pop and make her humiliation complete. At least no one was looking at her. She was about seven inches too short and thirty pounds too heavy for anyone at the party to be staring at her when so much eye candy was prancing around her, giggling and taking selfies.
Kit preferred to fly under the radar of the constant clicking of cameras on smartphones. She wasn’t anything to post about on social media, and she liked it that way. She preferred to remain out of the public eye.
Kit only had to stay at the swanky rooftop party until they sang happy birthday to her sister and cut the cake—the thousand-dollar, perfectly decorated cake Marissa and her friends wouldn’t touch. Some celebrity baker had prepared it. Would he be insulted if no one bothered to eat it?
It was nearly dusk and the terrace was aglow with silver spherical lanterns. The serving bars were illuminated with fluorescent green. The whole party was not Kit’s scene.
At least their brother seemed to be having a good time. He was flirting and talking with the beautiful women. Their mother was in her element. A former Miss California, sipping champagne, wearing a couture gown, and talking to Marissa’s agent, her mother was all toothy smiles.
Kit’s phone was tucked in her clutch. Her fingers stretched toward it. She had promised Marissa she would socialize and not type on her phone the entire time, but no one was speaking to her, and it was unlikely anyone would. She had nothing in common with actors and models and photographers. She was probably the only woman on the roof who wasn’t regularly featured in the gossip columns. She couldn’t be in the gossip columns; her life depended on it. If someone saw her picture and recognized her as anyone other than Kit Walker, she was screwed.
Kit swirled the lemon-lime cola in her wineglass. She would have drunk it straight from the can, but the bartender had given her such a look when she requested it, she decided she would use a glass.
A light breeze blew, and Kit shivered. Was being cold an excuse to leave? It was July in Southern California and no one else seemed uncomfortable, but Kit wasn’t accustomed to being half-naked. Her legs were bare. Her arms were bare. Her shoulders were bare. How did people relax when they were dressed like this?
Goose bumps formed on her arms, and
she turned, sensing someone watching her. She pasted on a smile in case it was her sister. Kit could pretend she was enjoying people-watching. Watching beautiful people seducing and flattering each other was an activity that didn’t involve her phone. After the party was over, these beautiful people would go home with companions as attractive as they were.
Kit would go home alone, water her plants and go to bed. That was okay. She didn’t want someone coming home with her.
She didn’t see her sister, but a man was watching Kit drink her soda. A good-looking man. Was he trying to place her? Wondering why she was at this party? He had the smoldering, sexy look down pat. He must be a model or an actor. His hair was longer, reaching to the tops of his ears, and he was dressed in a black T-shirt, dark blue jeans and boots. Though his expression was serious, he almost seemed amused. Her defenses heightened. She wasn’t in the mood to be teased. She’d heard every joke in the world about being the ugly sister to supermodel Marissa.
She was aware she wasn’t as gorgeous as her sister. Since she had been a baby, she’d been compared to her sister, and Kit did not rank on any magazine’s list as hot or tempting. At some point, looks wouldn’t matter as much, and someone would recognize her genius. But in this space and at this time, looks mattered; brains didn’t. Maybe when she and Marissa were in their sixties, someone would finally stop snapping pictures of Marissa long enough to realize that Kit was smart.
Kit didn’t blame her sister. Marissa was a good person with a warm heart, but the media cared only how she looked, what she wore and where she partied. Kit and her sister were both underestimated.
The man started toward her. Kit slid off the stool. She checked that her dress was pulled down in the back and tried to flee. It was juvenile, but she didn’t want to have an actual conversation with a handsome man or fend off a joke about her.
Kit didn’t get far. With her ridiculous borrowed shoes, she had to walk like a clopping horse. The roof was too jam-packed, and unlike her sister, who strode through a room and parted the crowd, Kit had no such effect on the people around her.
The man reached her and smiled. The smile shifted his looks from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. Her knees locked and her breasts tightened and she cursed her body’s complete overreaction. Maybe this was how men felt when they looked at her sister. If so, she understood their obsession with Marissa a bit more. Standing in front of this man, it was hard to look away.
“You’re Kit Walker, right?” he asked.
Kit blinked at him and then looked behind her. He’d said her name, but was he actually looking for her? She could think of only one reason why he would. “If you are trying to meet my sister through me, Marissa doesn’t make a mockery of me by allowing men to use me to get to her.” It had happened at least five times in the past. It was humiliating for Kit, having a man pretend to like her only to flat-out ignore her once he was in Marissa’s presence. Marissa hated it. Kit wasn’t a fan, either.
“I have no interest in your sister,” the man said. His voice was deep and slightly gravelly. Like the voice of a man who was used to being in charge and in control. Maybe an actor, then. Or a director.
“You’d be the first and only man on the planet.” She laughed so she didn’t sound completely bitter, but it wasn’t funny. It was true and painful. When she was younger, she used to imagine a man would come into their lives and see something in her that made her more attractive than Marissa.
“Is there a place we could speak in private?” he asked.
“I don’t sneak off to closets with strangers,” she said.
He frowned, and she mourned the loss of his amazing smile. His eyes were flat and serious. “I have no plans to put you in a closet. I do have something important to speak with you about. It’s a sensitive matter. I am familiar with your work.”
Her stomach dropped. His voice gave away he wasn’t referring to her job at the florist. It had been four years since she had worked as a computer scientist, and she had put the past behind her. Though she sometimes woke in the night in a cold sweat, nightmares about her previous work hounding her, Kit had built a safe life for herself.
Kit held up her hands and backed away. “Stay away from me.” How had anyone found her? She had been exceedingly careful.
She turned to flee and he grabbed her wrist, preventing her escape. The party went on around her as if no one was aware of what was happening to her. Being socially invisible might get her killed. “If you don’t let me go, I will scream. My sister has a security team here. They will...tackle you.” Kit had seen her sister’s bodyguards grapple with or hit men who lunged at her sister either trying to cop a feel or take a picture up her dress. It was comical how easily her bodyguards kept pests away.
But this man was more than a pervert with a mission. This man was a threat. He wouldn’t be flicked to the side.
He released her. “Shade sent me.”
The words came on a whisper, carrying a heavy message. Shade, a name from her past, ancient history. Shade was known for being ridiculously principled and scrupulously ethical. Shade was a topnotch hacker and a class act. “Is she in trouble?” Kit’s question confirmed she knew Shade. But if he knew about Shade, he knew too much already. Theirs was a small and discreet community.
“She’s safe, but she sent me because she is worried about you. Problems are coming your way.”
Kit wasn’t interested in a cloak-and-dagger routine. “I don’t do that type of work anymore. I work for a florist. If Shade was worried about me, she would have sent me a message directly.” Online. Over the phone. Sending a messenger did not seem like Shade’s style.
“You’ve been hard to find.”
Her pride flooded through her. At least she hadn’t made it painfully easy for her enemies to locate her. Shade was a friend, but to keep herself safe, she’d had to hide from everyone, and that had meant creating a new online identity. “Yet here you are,” Kit said, wondering how he had located her. If he had found her, then her enemies could, as well.
“I went through a lot of trouble to locate you. Thousands in bribes, hours on stakeouts and hacking the United States’ civilian records,” he said.
The records the government kept to allow them to track almost anyone. Library cards, credit card bills and facial recognition from streaming video feeds made hiding next to impossible. Kit had believed knowing how the government could track her meant she could be untraceable. She had been mistaken.
“Coming for you in person allows us to protect you.”
“Us?” She looked around. She could spot a military man from fifty paces. This man had the look of someone with service experience, but no one else jumped out at her.
“I work with a team, but I am here alone.”
“You work for Shade?” she asked.
“With her,” he said.
He didn’t like to be submissive. Definitely military. “I’m fine here. My family is close, and if you haven’t noticed, my sister hired a dozen security guards for this party.”
The man arched a brow. “Your family and some guards for hire can’t protect you. You have dangerous enemies.”
“Maybe you’re one of them,” she said. She lifted her phone to snap his picture. He snatched it from her hands before she could capture his image and send it with an SOS to her safety net, a list of computer hackers who would take his picture to the authorities if anything happened to her.
“I’ve heard a computer in your hands is as dangerous as a weapon.”
A compliment. “You heard right. I’ll do what’s needed to protect myself and my family.”
“Like calling in an air strike?” he asked, sounding amused.
“That was a joke,” she said. When she had been on the project years ago, she had ordered an air strike against a general who had pissed her off. She’d known the military had safeguards to
prevent friendly fire, but it had been a clear warning not to screw with her.
“Not everyone is amused by your sense of humor,” he said.
“I’ve been told it’s a little warped. Give me my phone.”
He handed it to her. “I need to take you somewhere safe.”
He could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. If he had found her and knew about Shade, he could be masquerading as friendly but working with her enemies. “I can protect myself.” Or at least, she could run and disappear.
The music stopped dead, and the lanterns and bar lights on the rooftop flickered before going out completely. Kit glanced at her phone, confused to see the red warning icon that she had no cell service. Panic flared, and she sensed something bad was unfolding.
He said, “Not from—”
The rat-tat-tat of gunfire cut him off. The man grabbed Kit and held her against him, sheltering her with his body and forcing her to the ground.
Screaming and the sound of glass breaking filled the air. The gunfire meant that her life, and the lives of her family and people around her, were in danger. The strength and power of the stranger holding her against him was weirdly comforting. She felt a gun at his side. And another one. And a knife in a leather sheath.
“Please stop that,” he said.
She stilled her hands. “Are you wearing a vest?”
“Of course I am,” he said, reaching for one of his weapons and shoving her behind him. He pivoted on his heels while staying in a squat.
Lights from adjacent buildings, the moon and the city below were the only illumination.
A man with a large gun swung it in a wide circle around him, eliciting more squeals of fear and pleading. Two others were at his sides. They wore clear plastic masks, distorting their faces, and black clothes. Between their disguises and the darkness, Kit couldn’t tell anything about these men.
“We’re looking for a woman. If you stay calm, no one will be hurt. Kit Walker, come forward or we’ll kill every person on this roof.”