Joint Engagement

by Karen Anders

  She lived with Beau in his apartment, just as he’d described it. When Beau had invited her down to the bayou to meet his family, she’d jumped at the chance. His family was huge and didn’t only include his four very handsome brothers and his very pretty, very smart and very sassy sister, but his mother, father, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. Kinley couldn’t keep track of them all. It was so strange to be welcomed so warmly into his family when hers had been so cold. They were loud and spoke in a broken English/French language, listened to a lively music, the joy showing in their eyes so clearly that Kinley soon felt at home.

  Now Beau and his grandfather were taking her craw fishing in the bayou. She was so excited.

  They parked on the shoulder of the road. It was a pretty spot, the stream itself narrow and shallow with low muddy banks and a thick growth of water weeds and flowers. A perfect haven for crawfish, or so she’d been told by Beau.

  A young couple was there trying their luck. They waved as Beau and Kinley and his grand-père got out of the truck. Kinley waved back as Beau handed her a pair of rubber knee boots to wade in while stamping into his own. Grabbing several cotton-mesh dip nets and three folding lawn chairs, he headed down toward the water with the nets tucked under his arm, carrying a cooler of bait in his other hand.

  Beau’s grand-père tucked her arm through the crook of his and they both made their way down the bank. In his heavily accented voice, he said, “You listen to my petit-fils. You’ll be fishin’ like you were born to it. You gonna then eat yourself some crawfish, you. You so little, I could pick you up over my head.”

  “Who you kidding, grand-père?” Beau said, dropping the bait and the nets near the water and turning toward him, giving him an indulgent look. “You could pick me up over your head without any problem.”

  “I will if need be. I might have to show him who’s boss, me.” He chuckled when Beau shivered in fear. “I’ll do it, smart aleck, ha.”

  “I have no doubt,” Beau said with affection in his eyes.

  He motioned her over and she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

  He opened the bait cooler. Reaching in, he baited the nets with shad gizzard and chicken necks. They each took a net out into the water, spacing them a good distance apart. Beau worked quickly and methodically, the ritual obviously second nature to him. Kinley kept stumbling over tangles of alligator weed entwined with delicate yellow flowers and water primrose. The spot she had chosen to drop her net was choked with lavender water hyacinth that kept getting snagged on it.

  “Ah, sugar,” Beau said indulgently, reaching around her, enveloping her in his warm male scent. “You havin’ a bit of the trouble, you,” he said, his accent as thick as his grandfather’s, and Kinley giggled.

  Beau helped her set the net and supported her as she waded back to shore. She lost her balance and Beau caught her against his hard-muscled, solid body. “Getting your sea legs?”

  “Was this part of your craw-fishing plan? Get me to stumble around out here so you could be my hero?”

  “Yeah, what of it?” he said. “It was a solid plan.”

  She set her arm loosely on his shoulders, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. The sounds and smells of the bayou wrapped around her. It was as beautiful as the man it had nurtured.

  When he smiled, his charm, his love for her, was evident in his face. It was evident in everything he did for her, in every moment that they interacted, even when they were arguing. She loved him so much that sometimes she got scared, so scared. Then she’d realize that he was dedicated to her. Committed so fully. Loving him was everything.

  “Yeah.” He leaned forward, setting his forehead against hers. “I love you, too, ma belle.”

  “Is it that evident?”

  “It is, and it makes me feel like the king of the world.”

  “Well, you’re king of mine.”

  He laughed and roared, picking her right up out of the water, carrying her to shore without one stumble. Damn him.

  When they got home and he’d delivered the crawfish to his mother for dinner, he dragged her up to his room under the pretense of showering and changing before dinner.

  As soon as the door closed, his hand slipped heavily down her spine, cupped her rear and meshed her hips to his. She felt his hard, broad erection through his jeans, the heat and pressure. She crossed her arms over her chest and pulled off her shirt, then stripped him of his.

  His gaze was direct, hot and lazy.

  He bent to taste her, pushing down her bra strap and exposing her. “So sexy.”

  His gaze slipped down over her plump breasts, smoothing the roundness with his hand, and then he leaned down. His lips closed warmly over her nipple and he drew her into the warmth of his mouth, watching her expression of pleasure. Her head fell back, her body bending to his. The motion ground her warm center to his erection and she thrust back as he licked and scored his teeth over the soft underside. He held her gaze as he ran a finger inside the edge of her bra cup, then pulled down. Her nipple spilled into his mouth. She gasped and closed her eyes as he devoured her.

  Picking her up, he took her to the bed, licking slow heavy circles around her nipple. Kinley was breathless, her body hungering for his. She ran her hands over his sleek sculpted muscles. Then wrapped her hands around him, slid her finger over the moist tip, and laughed softly when he groaned, drew in air through clenched teeth.

  “Damn,” he said and clasped her hands above her head, “I love you.”

  “Prove it,” she said, and for the next hour, he did.

  Later on, after a feast of fresh spicy crawfish, dirty rice and green beans, Beau turned to her. “I have something I wanted to give to you.”

  Her breath backed up in her throat. “What?” she said.

  He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. The tension released in one breath. It wasn’t the ring box she’d expected.

  She opened it and held it up so his family members could see. They started hooting and hollering.

  “He gave her a knife,” one of his brothers said.

  “Yeah, that’s Beau for you,” another said.

  “Means he loves her,” his sister said.

  He looked over at them, then smiled. “I do love her. More than anything.”

  “You got me a folding KA-BAR.”

  He looked back at her. “I do have something else for you.” This time he did pull out a ring box.

  “Ohmigod,” she whispered.

  “Kinley, I don’t need another six months or a year to know what I know now. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. You are my world. Will you marry me?”

  Tears stung her eyes and a soft sob escaped her lips. “Yes, I will. You know I will. I love you, forever.”

  He opened the box and she looked down at the exquisite square-cut diamond.

  “There’s an inscription,” he said.

  She tipped the ring and read it. All in.

  She kissed him as he slipped the ring on her finger. “You and me, chérie. All in. All the time.”

  She breathed a soft sigh against his mouth.

  “All the time. Forever and ever.”

  * * * * *

  If you loved this novel, don’t miss other suspenseful titles by Karen Anders:

  DESIGNATED TARGET

  SPECIAL OPS RENDEZVOUS

  AT HIS COMMAND

  FIVE-ALARM ENCOUNTER

  Available now from Harlequin Romantic Suspense!

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  Prologue

  “Why me? Why the hell does it have to be me?” Trace McKinnon stared at his boss with a touch of belligerence.

  “Because they specifically asked for you,” Cody Walker said reasonably with a faint smile. “And in the spirit of interagency cooperation…”

  Trace scowled. “That’s BS and you know it.”

  “Yeah.” Walker’s smile turned sympathetic. “You know it and I know it. But we have to at least pretend to play nice with the State Department and the Bureau of Diplomatic Security.” His voice took on a conciliatory tone. “This is the first time another federal agency has asked for our help since we teamed with the FBI to take down the New World Militia and Michael Vishenko,” he said, referring to a case that in some respects was still ongoing, at least with regard to testifying at trials. “And look how well that turned out. Weren’t you the one who reminded me two years ago we’re all on the same side?”

  Damned by my own words, Trace thought, frustrated. His boss was right, and on some level he knew it. It was just that he’d recently started on a case that really interested him for the first time in those same two years, and he hated like hell the idea of turning that case over to someone else while he babysat a foreign princess.

  “Why does it have to be me?” he reiterated.

  Persuasively, Walker said, “Considering she’s going to be at the University of Colorado Boulder, at least you don’t have to go far from home. And with your background in the US Marshals Service, who better could they get?”

  “I would have thought female bodyguards would be better, under the circumstances.”

  Walker looked uncomfortable. “Yes…well…you see…the thing is…” He cleared his throat. “The Zakharians are somewhat behind the times. They specifically requested men for this job.”

  Trace snorted. “Don’t let Keira hear you say that. It would drive your wife crazy.”

  “I know. But we can hardly go against their wishes on this, can we?” He glanced at the folder in front of him, sent over from the Diplomatic Security Service—the other name for the Bureau of Diplomatic Security—in an attachment to an email. “Zakhar is a small country, but it’s critically important to the US’s strategic plan for NATO and Europe. We don’t want to piss the Zakharians off on something as simple as this. Especially since they’ll be picking up the entire tab for the cost involved. Yeah,” he said when Trace raised his eyebrows. “She’s a foreign dignitary, but she’s not a diplomat, and technically she doesn’t qualify for DSS protection, not long term like this. Zakhar’s king just wants our expertise guarding his precious sister, and he’s willing to pay for it. State agreed for the reasons I just mentioned, and it won’t cost the US taxpayers a single dime.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that. But why does it have to be me?” Trace asked for the third time. “Isn’t this something the Diplomatic Security Service would normally handle?”

  “The State Department explained that. You were an Embassy marine for six months in Zakhar, so you’ve been exposed to their culture, and—”

  “Damn! I knew it. This is because I speak the language, right?”

  Amusement touched the corners of Walker’s mouth. “Right.”

  “I should never have listed that on my agency résumé.”

  “Too late now.”

  Frustrated, Trace took a turn around the room. “I can’t guard her 24/7. Who else is being assigned?”

  “We’ll let the DSS figure it out. But I do have some ideas…”

  Trace groaned at the thought.

  “It won’t be that bad,” Walker insisted. “It’s only for a year, and—”

  “A year! You didn’t tell me I was going to be stuck with this BS assignment for a year!”

  “She’s going to be teaching at the University of Colorado for the next year. Some kind of exchange program. And she’ll have her own retinue with her, including Zakharian security forces.” He hesitated. “But you’re not just being asked to be her bodyguard.”

  Trace froze. “Then what?”

  “The king doesn’t know it, but the State Department wants you to take note of anything she or her entourage might say…in the Zakharian language.”

  “I get it now.” Trace shot his boss a knowing look. “That’s why they want someone who speaks the language. State wants me to spy on her for them.”

  “I told you Zakhar is critically important. State wants to know in advance if anything is going to change with that alliance, and it’s possible you might overhear something.” Walker looked at the cover page of the file, on which he’d jotted a few notes. His mouth curved in an expression of distaste. “I’m afraid there’s a little more to it.”

  Trace felt his forehead tighten in a question.

  “Oh, hell,” Walker said. “There’s no delicate way to put it.” His eyes met Trace’s. “They picked you for a variety of reasons, one of which doesn’t have a damn thing to do with anything other than the fact women find you attractive.”

  Trace uttered a pithy Anglo-Saxon curse. Then he gritted his jaw and pinned his boss with an uncompromising stare, his voice soft but deadly. “I can’t believe you have the stones to say that to me. If State wants some sort of honey trap they’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  “I told them you’d say that,” Walker said with the glimmer of a smile.

  “I’ve done a lot of things for my country,” Trace said fiercely. “Some of those things keep me awake at night. But I’ve never done anything I was ashamed of, and I never will.”

  Walker held up a hand, palm outward. “Calm down, okay?” he said.

  “Damn it, Walker—” Trace growled. His handsome face was a sensitive subject, especially within an agency whose agents prided themselves on fading into the woodwork. And Trace was a damned good agent in every other way. It was just harder for him to avoid standing out in a crowd.

  “Forget it,” Walker said quickly. “I’ll give State your answer, and if they don’t like it I’ll tell them the agency will pass on their request entirely.”

  Trace took a deep breath and expelled it slowly, forcing down his anger at the same time. “Sorry,” he told his boss roughly. “I should have known you’d back me on this.”

  “What about the rest of the request? Will you accept the assignment?”

  Trace hesitated, then nodded. “You’ve convinced me. If State still wants me under the circumstances, I’m on board. When do I start?”

  “The princess will be here in about a month.” Walker stood up and held out his hand. “Thanks, McKinnon. I knew I could count on you.” Trace shook the outstretched hand, and Walker continued in a completely different vein. “So Keira wants to know, are you going to make it to your goddaughter’s first birthday party this Saturday?”

  Trace’s first real smile since he’d walked into this office spread over his face. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve already bought her birthday present—she’ll love it.”

  “You spoil her.”

  Trace laughed. “Like you don’t?” He headed for the door, his mood lightened by the thought of his goddaughter, Alyssa Tracy Walker. He’d been blown away when his former partner asked him to be her daughter’s godfather. He hadn’t had to think twice about accepting. And Alyssa was a darling, just like her mother. She already had all the men in her life wrapped around her baby finger.

  “McKinnon!” Walke
r’s voice stopped him just as he was going through the door. “You’d better take this.” This was the folder that had been sitting on Walker’s desk, the one he’d referred to from time to time as he’d convinced Trace to accept the new assignment. Trace’s thoughts were dragged away from his goddaughter, reminding him of what he didn’t want to think about…not until he had to. He sighed and took the folder, tucking it under his arm.

  A princess, he thought as he walked out. Great. Just what I need.

  Copyright © 2015 by Amelia Autin Lam

  ISBN-13: 9781460379745

  Joint Engagement

  Copyright © 2015 by Karen Alarie

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