by Leslie North
“The landlord sent a guy up yesterday afternoon.”
“I have to ask. When most people are shot at, their first inclination is to call the cops. You had your receptionist wait until after I’d checked things out myself. Why?”
“Like I said, I’ve tried by the book and it hasn’t exactly worked. Besides, if I called the police every time I received a threat, they’d have to open a special precinct out in the hallway.”
“You get shot at that often?” He leaned forward, his expression concerned and his posture every inch the bad-ass protector.
“No. It doesn’t usually go that far,” she said, trying her best to resist her insane urge to climb him like a tree and kiss him until they were both breathless with need. “It’s mainly the letters. Or sometimes phone calls, a few texts.”
“Like what you showed me yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever hired anyone else to investigate? There are ways to trace these things, if you know the right people.”
She looked up at him, giving him a pointed stare. “That’s why I hired you.”
Spencer frowned. “I’m just your bodyguard.”
“Given your trained military skills, I believe this would fall under the ‘other duties as required’ clause of your contract.”
He ran a hand through his hair, making her wish she could do the same as she wondered how those soft auburn locks would feel in her hands, gripped tight in her fingers with his head between her thighs as he brought her to a mind-blowing climax with his lips and tongue.
Oh, no. She dropped her pen and covered her eyes. This had to stop. Nothing could happen between them. Ever. He was her employee, her bodyguard, the man paid to keep her safe. Not to mention the fact she’d sworn off relationships after the end of her last affair had been splashed across every tabloid. Besides, she was concentrating on her career and the foundation.
Saving Williams Wishes was all that mattered.
Toni swallowed hard and squared her shoulders, shoving her needs deep beneath layers of obligations. “Our flight to Jubail leaves tomorrow morning at six. I’ve chartered one of my father’s private jets to take us, but I’m sure you’ll want to look at the aircraft and flight plans beforehand, for security reasons.” She struggled to keep her voice steady and her tone even, betraying none of the scorching awareness inside her whenever he was near. “You can use my personal SUV to drive out to the air field this afternoon, if you like.”
Spencer scrubbed his hand over his face then stood at the window, staring outside. “Fine. Thanks. I’ll make sure everything is in order.” Sighing, he dropped his head and lowered his gaze. “There was more in that note yesterday, things I didn’t tell you. Threats against you if you delivered those e-readers as promised.”
Toni smiled, shifting her attention from the desktop to him. “Yes, I know.”
“You do?” His eyes widened, his tone surprised.
“Like I said, I get a lot of threats. It would be pretty idiotic of me not to be able to read them, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, it would.” A slow grin spread across his face. “So, I guess I flunked then, huh?”
“You got the job, didn’t you? I don’t put much stock into those e-reader rumors.”
The humor in his expression drained away. “What makes you think those are rumors?”
“My father’s a powerful man. That makes me a valuable asset. Or target. The press will make up anything to tear me and this foundation down. But the idea that anyone would try to use these donated devices as a way to spread terrorism is ludicrous.”
He stood, his dark expression clearing as if he’d reached some sort of decision, a sexy smile spreading across his firm lips. “So, you have any other tests lined up for me to pass?”
A warm buzz of attraction spread outward from her core to her extremities at the devilish glint in his green eyes. “You never know...” she gave him what she knew was a flirtatious smile. She just couldn’t help herself. “Now help me pack up all this stuff for the press conference.”
“Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff,” the pilot’s voice crackled through the plane’s overhead PA system.
Spencer clicked his seatbelt into place then glanced over at Toni as she did the same. Even at this early hour in the morning, dressed in jeans and a plain pink T-shirt, she looked fantastic. Not that he had any business looking, not really. He was here for the mission, nothing else. Except the more he told himself that, the less it rang true, at least where Toni was concerned.
He liked her, more than was probably wise.
For her part, Toni seemed completely oblivious to his presence today.
She’d met him at the private air field with far less luggage than he’d expected and they’d waited together for nearly an hour in the wind and drizzle with no complaint on her part while their pilot ran through his pre-flight checklist then finally allowed them to board. Now, she sat across from him on a plush leather bench seat with her legs tucked beneath her and her dark hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail, glasses on, lost in whatever she was doing on her laptop. She looked so damned sweet and cute it made his teeth ache. Part of him longed to pull her over into his lap and kiss her silly.
The other part of him wanted to run for the hills. The one who knew these kinds of wham-bam, white-hot relationships rarely worked out. Too fast, too far away, too hot, too cold—he’d run the Goldilocks relationship gamut enough times to know better. Still, that didn’t stop him from checking her out and dreaming. He was a straight, healthy male, after all.
Thankfully, his phone buzzed in his pocket and distracted him. He pulled it out to see a message from Kyle flash onscreen.
Boarding flight at Reagan now.
Arriving in Jubail 17:30.
Even though this was technically Spencer’s mission, the team was coming to Jubail too, in hopes they might find out more about the mysterious disappearance of Toni’s father, Coran, and how this SHEEPSKIN organization might’ve been involved. Plus, Kyle thought those hidden e-reader files and the known terrorist organization were related somehow to his brother’s death, but until they uncovered more information or Hayley unlocked those encrypted files, they couldn’t be sure. After spending the afternoon the day before, going over every inch of the plane and even sneaking in to search Toni’s office when she’d gone to the restroom, he’d still hadn’t found anything to clue him in to Coran Williams current whereabouts. He sent off a quick text back to Kyle:
Sitting on tarmac, waiting for takeoff.
Will message again upon arrival.
He started to put his phone away when it buzzed again. Spencer pulled it back out and snorted at the new text, this one from Scotty, the team’s hand-to-hand combat expert who was flying commercial coach with the rest of the guys.
Private flights are for pussies.
On the heels of that message came another, this time from Gage, their explosives guru.
You owe me fifty bucks.
Spencer sighed and shut off the device before jamming it back into the pocket of his jeans. He and the guys had played poker well into the night the evening before and he’d unwisely bet Gage he couldn’t sneak a C4 pack and his handgun into his carry-on bag past the TSA agents. Honestly, Spencer should’ve known better, especially considering the guy had helped design the new safety protocols the TSA agents were now following, but he’d had one too many beers and his mind was still partially preoccupied with a certain brunette who was strictly off limits.
Besides, needling Gage was fun these days, with all the romance novel covers his girlfriend, Anna, had shot of him finally hitting the virtual shelves this week. Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed as hard as he did when he saw an oiled-up, plastic sword wielding Gage decked out as a Viking marauder.
He chuckled. Talk about pussies.
“What are you laughing at over there?” Toni asked, drawing his attention to her once more, not that it had ever gone far.
“Nothing.” Spencer settled back into his corner of the bench seat for the nearly seven-hour flight ahead. “Funny text from a friend.”
“Hmm.” She closed her laptop and pulled a blanket around herself tight. “Well, you better get some sleep now. Things will be crazy once we arrive.”
“Yes, mother.”
She hurled a pencil at his head and he ducked to avoid it.
“Hey now. I’m pretty sure the tossing of sharp objects within the fuselage is considered a violation of safety laws,” he teased.
Toni stuck her tongue out at him then pummeled her flimsy airplane pillow with more force than was necessary. Given this was Coran Williams’ private plane, he’d half-expected everything in here to be plated in gold and sparkling with diamonds. Instead it was the standard brown leather and all-purpose dark carpet.
Coran Williams wasn’t known as a style maven per se, but the man did love to flaunt his wealth when he could, at least from what Spencer had seen in the tabloids. Homes around the world, an art collection to rival most museums, fancy sports cars galore. Word had it the man hadn’t set foot in a department store himself since Eisenhower was president, as evidenced by the fact the guy dressed like Montgomery Burns from the Simpsons, all creased jeans and Italian loafers. Then again, someone with a net worth greater than many small countries needn’t bother with buying his own clothes, he supposed. Personal shoppers for the rich and famous were a dime a dozen these days.
Spencer closed his eyes, hoping to avoid the dreaded jet lag ahead, only to open them again moments later as Toni cursed and changed positions. He watched her fuss and cuss for several seconds, then quirked a sardonic brow in her direction. “Problem?”
“No. Yes.” She punched the pillow again and scowled. “I can’t get comfortable.”
“So, you think beating up the pillow will help?”
She flipped him off in response.
Every time Spencer thought he might be about to drift off, a muttered oath or a violent pillow punch from Toni would jolt him back to wakefulness. Finally, once they’d taken off and the Fasten Seatbelts sign cleared, he unclicked his belt and waggled his fingers at her. “C’mon.”
“What?” Toni snapped, decidedly cranky.
He patted his shoulder and grinned. He knew he was pushing boundaries, but he had his reasons. “Let’s snuggle.”
“I am not snuggling with you.” She tucked her body into a tight ball. “You’re my employee.”
“Exactly. Meaning you’re paying me to be your pillow.”
“I’m paying you to be my bodyguard.”
“Which I’ll do an even better job at if I get adequate sleep. Which I won’t be able to do with you swearing like a sailor every two seconds and causing a ruckus.”
“I was not causing a ruckus,” her tone sounded as outraged as she looked. Still, with her dark eyes glittering and her cheeks flushed, Spencer couldn’t remember ever seeing a prettier sight. “And I can’t help it if I’m preoccupied.”
“Preoccupied? By what?”
“Everything.” She curled her stockinged toes under and he had the crazy urge to pull off her fuzzy pink socks and suck said toes until she screamed with pleasure. “Flying isn’t exactly my forte, okay?”
“Kind of strange for a gal in your line of work, isn’t it?”
“I can’t help it. Sorry.”
Spencer watched her for a long moment, her whole demeanor tense and scared and something inside him, tight and knotted, unfurled. He took a deep breath and patted his shoulder again. “C’mon.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Right. You’ll be sleeping on me. Nothing untoward, I promise. Women tell me I make a very comfortable pillow. I come highly recommended.”
“How nice for you.” The snark in her tone made him grin.
“Well, it’s your loss.” He relaxed back into his corner and closed his eyes, the weight of her stare making him want to pull her closer despite his resolve to steer clear. After several seconds, he peeked one eye open to see her scooting a tiny bit nearer. “I don’t bite,” he said. “Unless you like that sort of thing.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” The fact he liked a bit of pain with his pleasure wasn’t something he was really ready to share with her. He didn’t know why he’d even let that slip. Instead of answering, he closed his eyes again. “See you in Jubail.”
She waited to make her move until he was almost asleep, until he’d managed to get his mind quiet, to push away every thought of just how close she sat beside him and how much he wanted her pressed into him again. He just barely registered her saying, “Dammit,” under her breath and then, a millisecond later, her warmth moved in alongside him, her head slowly coming to rest on his chest.
He made himself stay still, forced his breathing to stay low, though he was certain she could hear his heart pounding, especially when she clutched the front of his shirt.
It took every ounce of willpower he had not to pull Toni across him and stroke every inch of her luscious curves. Instead, he let her settle in and kept his hands to himself as his body tightened involuntary. Okay. Perhaps this hadn’t been his most brilliant idea ever after all.
“I’m only doing this because I need my rest too,” she whispered. “I’ve never slept well alone.”
“Of course,” he rasped. The smell of roses from her perfume and the citrusy fragrance of her shampoo blended into an intoxicating cocktail. Eyes squeezed shut, he did his best to snooze. It had been too long since he’d had a woman. That had to be it. Totally explained his complete overreactions to her. Toni Williams was his target, his job, his employer. Not to mention the fact Kyle would have Spencer’s ass in a sling if he got personally involved with her.
Still, as she snuggled closer and his arms somehow found their way around her and they both drifted off to dreamtime, all Spencer could see in his mind was the two of them together, entwined in satin sheets of the deepest scarlet, her dark hair curling down her back as she rode him hard to orgasm after orgasm.
Chapter 3
“Get your lazy ass up and help me load this gear…”
Nick’s wide grin loomed over Spencer’s face, the hot desert sun beating down.
Spencer groaned then yawned and stretched as Nick kicked his booted feet hard. “Fine. I’m up. I’m up.”
He scrubbed a hand through his buzz-cut red hair and swung the nearest bundle of supplies over his shoulder toward the awaiting transport truck. “Bet you can’t wait to get home, eh, buddy?”
“Got that right.” Nick glanced at Spencer over his shoulder before facing front again. “Can’t wait to hold my Natalie. Marriage is the best thing ever, bud. You should try it.”
“Yeah, right,” Spencer said, skeptical. “And maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass too.”
Gage snorted from behind him. “Give me a heads up before that happens dude, so I can get the hell out of the way.”
“If you ladies are done yapping, let’s get this shit loaded so we can get on the road.” Kyle stood in the back of the truck, hands on hips, grinning down at his brother. “That okay with you, team leader?”
“Sounds like a pl—”
The shot came out of nowhere, clipping Gage’s right earlobe then whizzing past Spencer before he even knew what was going on. Next thing there was blood and who knows what else everywhere and Nick was lying face down at his feet. Kyle cursed as Gage tackled Spencer to the ground and the world tilted on its axis.
There was something warm and sticky on his hands.
Blood. Nick’s blood, mixed with chunks of—Spencer’s stomach rioted.
Fuck. Oh, fuck…
Spencer snapped awake, blinked into the bright afternoon sun streaming in through the airplane windows. It took him a moment to realize where he was, who he was, and that the warm weight of Toni resting against him was gone. He squinted around the cabin trying to locate her, the drone of the jet engines humming loud. She couldn’t have gone far,
he knew. They were airborne after all, and the only parachutes were in the locked front cabin with the pilot, as his comprehensive search the day before had shown. So, yeah. Straightening, he rolled his stiff neck and shook off the painful images of his buddy’s death.
Truth was, he hadn’t been sleeping all that well since that bogus article about him had made front page news in Coran’s tabloid and dredged up memories best left buried. Hell, he’d loved Nick like a brother. All the guys felt the same. In fact, the guy was Kyle’s flesh and blood younger brother. To be accused of his murder, even by some trashy news outlets that no one believed anyway, hurt. Big time.
Not as much as the intense scrutiny of the Navy they’d had to endure after the murder, of course. Nor was it worse than being forced to sit through congressional hearings and law enforcement inquisitions, each man on the team made to relive the excruciating moment when their beloved team leader, Nick, had taken a bullet to the back of his head, his skull exploding right before their eyes, over and over and over again.
Thank God, Commander Brighton had assigned them on the down low to search for Nick’s killer themselves. Staying busy had been their salvation, keeping them focused and preventing them from drowning in the sorrow they all felt from the loss of their friend.
Still, the dreams had never been quite this vivid before.
Hoping to take his mind off the horrible images still circulating in his head, Spencer sat up and grabbed Toni’s e-reader from the seat beside him, flicking on the screen and staring at the pages of the same romance book his teammate Gage had gone undercover at Williams Publishing to find. Too bad they’d discovered afterward that the dumb book came pre-loaded on all of Coran Williams’ donated devices and this story written by Nick’s widow under her pen name, N.T. Smalls, had already been distributed to countless readers worldwide. The same story Hayley was working on, trying to crack the encryption and find the secret SHEEPSKIN network codes.