by Tawny Weber
He’d helped rescue a kidnapped politician from a high-level prison, taking out multiple targets in the process.
Lieutenant Spencer Lloyd, former Navy SEAL and all-round fearless guy, had faced it all with confidence and equanimity.
But now, sitting in his superior officer’s office on the Coronado Naval Base for what was quite likely the last time, Spence wondered what he’d got himself into.
“Could you repeat that order, sir?”
A scowl between his bushy brows, Admiral Theodore Cade said, “Lieutenant, I need your help with my daughter.”
Yeah. That’s what Spence thought he’d said.
“Sir, you’re aware that I’m in the middle of out-processing.”
Leaving the military. Ending life as he knew—and loved—it. The Navy might accept an officer with compromised vision, but the SEALs could not. Better to leave with his dignity and his trident intact, he’d decided, than to be demoted off the team.
“The fact that you’re transitioning into civilian life is the reason you’ve been chosen for this mission, Lloyd.”
This must be a personal issue rather than a military issue, Spence realized.
“I’m breaking protocol by informing you of the benefits before I give you the details of this mission.”
“Sir, I have no expectation of benefits or recompense for a favor.”
“Which is why I’m making the offer. That, and because your talents, skills and expertise make you the right man for the job.”
His abilities as a SEAL? As a cryptographer? Spence banished the questions from his head. He’d know soon enough, so forming any ideas beforehand would be a waste of time and energy.
“It’s come to my attention that the position you’re taking upon your release from the Navy is not as opportune as it seemed.”
That was one way to put it. A huge disappointment would be another. There weren’t a bevy of challenging jobs here in the San Diego area that called for the skills of a former SEAL. And obviously Cade knew that already.
“In light of that, and in return for the personal favor I’ll detail, I’m offering you an opportunity, a shot at a future where you utilize the talents and training the finest military experience in the world taught you. An opportunity to employ those skills in civilian life.”
Was he going to sprinkle it with fairy dust and throw in a unicorn that did dishes, too?
“How?” Spence managed.
“A former SEAL of my acquaintance has started a premier security firm. This firm consists exclusively of former Special Ops personnel and handles the types of cases that require military expertise but the government finds itself unable to be involved with.”
Spence had a sudden vision of that dishwashing unicorn doing his laundry, too.
“It sounds like an excellent opportunity,” he said. “It also sounds, as you said yourself, exclusive. To offer that level of service, Special Ops won’t be enough. It’ll require a handpicked team.”
A handpicked team he’d do anything but kill to be a part of. Spence had experienced the sensations often enough before ops and missions to recognize the tingle down his spine, the tightness in his gut. Excitement. Anticipation. And a bone-deep surety that this was something he’d kick ass at.
“I am serving as a liaison between the military, the government and the head of the newly established Aegis Security. As such, my recommendation will carry weight.”
In other words, Cade was his golden ticket to the civilian career of his dreams.
“What do you need me to do?”
Spence would have made the offer even without the once-in-a-lifetime incentive, a fact that Cade knew perfectly well. His men were trained to do anything and everything asked of them. That was duty. But Spence was also acknowledging his acceptance of the confidential nature of the mission.
“It’s come to my wife’s, and therefore my, attention that our daughter is in a dangerous position. To be honest, I first considered Anne’s concerns to be motherly overprotectiveness. But the key to a successful marriage is compromise. So despite my thoughts on the matter, I gave in to her request that I use my resources to access nonclassified information on an individual who’s come into Mia’s life. That research has led me to believe that my wife’s instincts are accurate.”
Cade lifted a manila file from his desk, hesitated, then held it out. Taking it, Spence continued to watch his commander.
Whatever was in the file was backup and details for later.
For now, he waited for his orders.
“I’ve already given orders to expedite your out-processing clearances. Details, such as lodging, transport, etc., are in this file.” Cade handed over the file with the admonishment, “Keep in mind, this is a covert operation. You’ll need to fit into the environment convincingly in order to secure your objective.”
“And the objective is?”
“Gain my daughter’s trust, keep her safe and end her association—on all levels—with Santiago Alcosta, while ensuring that her reputation is not damaged and her business not impacted. There is an event being held in San Francisco in three days. Your mission starts there.”
“How deep is my cover?”
“Use your own name and whatever personal history you feel is necessary to make your role convincing. Your rank, your time in the military and your connection to me are all classified.”
Maybe it was his near-civilian status, but Spence heard himself ask, “You’re ordering me to lie to the target? To your daughter?”
Like any commanding officer giving a morally questionable order, Cade didn’t even blink.
“Affirmative. This mission is and will remain classified. Standard protocols.” Cade gestured to the door. “You have your orders. I expect them to be carried out, Lieutenant.”
Chapter 2
All the best missions included careful planning, the right equipment, good weapons and the potential for danger.
This, sadly, was not one of those.
It’d taken him three days to prepare. Travel and arranging to stay at a buddy’s apartment in San Francisco had been easy enough. Negotiating a concealed weapons permit as a civilian had necessitated pulling a lot of strings, and getting his hands on the main equipment the admiral ordered—a fitted tuxedo—had taken even longer.
As far as the potential for danger went, after reading through the file and then doing the basic research any covert op required, Spence had come to the conclusion that while Alcosta came from so much dirt and the man was filthy by association, Alcosta’s own business practices were on the up-and-up. Since plenty of government agencies had reached the same conclusion, he was pretty sure that this mission was on par with a babysitting job.
A babysitting job that paid really well, Spence reminded himself. Besides, if he scored a position with Aegis, providing personal security would quite likely be part of the work description. Hopefully for high-level politicians, notable scientists and other high-risk VIPs, instead of his former commanding officer’s do-gooder daughter.
But an assignment was an assignment, he reminded himself as he strode down the hallway toward the ballroom, his motorcycle boots echoing with each step.
The only problem was, in the week since receiving the admiral’s orders, he hadn’t quite nailed down the specifics of infiltrating the daughter’s world. Maybe something with security. He’d figure it out once he’d assessed the situation. He hadn’t earned the call sign Improv for nothing.
With no plan more solid than making contact, Spence stepped into the sun-drenched ballroom, watching people scramble around like confused ants, arms filled with linens, peacock feathers and, for some weird reason, paintbrushes.
“Mia, half the tablecloths are missing.”
Spence looked around for his objective. Mia Cade.
According to the file, she was a willowy five-ten. Admir
al Cade hadn’t included a photo, so Spence found himself searching for a thinner version of the admiral.
But there didn’t seem to be any white-haired, heavy-jowled women striding through the ballroom, with hands clasped behind their back while scowling at the workers scurrying around.
He did see a very tempting backside, though.
Her long, bare neck emphasized delicate shoulders and a slender back, wrapped in a vivid green tunic that draped over the sweet, tight curves of her butt encased in black leggings. He couldn’t be sure of her actual height since her knee-high boots had heels, but he’d put it close to five-ten.
She was either the target or the woman he’d be making breakfast for.
He angled to the left, wanting a better look.
“Excuse me.”
Spence shifted to one side to let a four-foot urn of flowers with legs pass.
Spence gave an appreciative hum when the sexy woman bent over to lift a cardboard box. Damned if that position didn’t give him a few intriguing ideas. His smile spread as he wondered if she’d do it again, to music.
His mind added a bluesy beat while he watched the woman’s backside as she handed the box off to a curly-haired blonde wearing a walkie-talkie and hoped like hell the sexy rear view didn’t belong to Cade’s daughter.
If luck was with him, the woman with the sexy backside had nothing to do with Mia Cade. Instead, he’d make contact with the target, she’d mention how cool it’d be to have a little security help and hire him, then introduce her sexy, dancing assistant, who’d want him working with her side by side.
Yeah. Spence could see that happening.
“Mia, the crystal is here but the cutlery is missing. Three waiters have called out sick and the, um, cellist? Is that what that says?” Tucking the box under one arm, the blonde held out a note. “Cellist? That’s the big violin, right? The sad-sounding thing?”
Damn. The sexy view was Mia Cade. Lust punctured like a dart in a balloon.
The last time he’d had luck like this, he’d lost his night vision.
“Dude, you’re right in the line of traffic.”
While Spence sidestepped the man wheeling in a dozen cases of wine on a dolly, his fantasy hurried off, leaving the blonde with a box anchored under one arm and a clipboard in the other.
Disappointment piercing his gut like a piece of shrapnel, Spence lasered in on the blonde, figuring her as his best in with his target.
“Excuse me.”
The blonde glanced up from the clipboard and pursed her lips as she got a good look at him. Brows arching, she gave a flirtatious flutter of her lashes.
“What can I do for you?” she purred. “I’m willing to do anything. Anything at all.”
“I’d like to speak with the lady in charge.”
The blonde stopped fluttering.
“You want Mia?” she asked, giving him a suspicious once-over. “Why?”
“I just need a second to talk with her. Why don’t I help you with that?” He gestured to the box.
“You’re here to help? Mia said Karen might send someone over. Great.” Practically tossing the box his way, the blonde gestured with her clipboard. “The way Mia organizes things, these events are usually a walk in the park. But I’ll be impressed if she manages to pull this one off.”
Someone yelled. Spence glanced over as the guy ran his dolly through the puddle of broken glass, mangled flowers and splattered water. He arched a brow when the florist scooped up a handful of bruised posies and whacked the other man with them.
“Things do look a little disorganized.”
“Mia’s usually on top of everything. She has a reputation as the queen of organized. But this is a mondo major event and her latest assistant flaked.” The blonde winced when the dolly guy pushed back. “This one only lasted three days—go figure. You’d think a person could handle a little constructive criticism while they’re learning the ropes of a new job, right?”
“You’d think,” Spence agreed, following her gesture to the small side room already piled high with boxes, and adding his to the stack the blonde gestured toward. “So, what’s the problem?”
“The assistant couldn’t handle a few accidents and mix-ups.”
“What kind of accidents?”
“Nothing big. One time the ninny forgot to set the emergency brake on Mia’s van and it rolled down a hill into a street sign. She sprained her shoulder when a stack of boxes fell on her in the storeroom. Once she slipped on ice in Mia’s kitchen, landed on her butt while screaming her head off.” The blonde rolled her eyes as if screaming was a stupid way to deal with a fall. “Throw in a minor bout of food poisoning, a broken stair rail and a minor electrical shock, and the gal claimed the job was jinxed.”
“That’s a lot of accidents,” Spence agreed. “This was over what period of time?”
A month? Three?
“Six days.”
“All of that happened in less than a week?” Spence stopped in his tracks. “Did this woman experience all of these accidents when she was with Mia?”
“Mia wasn’t always there. But sure, Roxie was on the clock when they happened.” The blonde gestured for Spence to move out of the storeroom. “Mia even offered hazard pay until this event was over. But no. Despite the fact that Mia has a huge event and a major client on the line, the woman was too much of a weenie to even try.”
“Is that so?” Glancing around the makings of the huge event, Spence wondered if Alcosta was the major client.
“It is definitely so.” With a roll of her eyes, she gestured for Spence to follow her as she skirted around the people mopping up water and mangled flowers. “You look like a talented guy, though. I’m sure that you can handle it.”
He looked around the ballroom, noting the multitude of issues dripping off tables, spilling across the floor and arguing on the carpeted dais.
“I’ve handled worse.” Figuring she could give him the ins and outs of the job, he offered up a friendly smile. “You seem to know a lot about the position and it’s requirements. Do you work for Mia, too?”
“Nope. I’m Clair. I’m Mrs. Perkins’ assistant. She’s the head of the Forever Families Foundation. She hires Mia to coordinate events like this one. Turns out, Mia’s great at finding ways to get rich people to dig deeper and donate more.”
“Speaking of Ms. Cade, any idea where I might find her?”
The blonde gave him another strip-you-naked once-over before gesturing toward a narrow hallway.
“She’s fighting with the chef over tonight’s meal.”
“Fighting? Sounds dangerous,” he murmured. “I’ll go do what I can to make sure she wins.”
He headed for what he assumed was the kitchen, but not before he heard the blonde murmur, “Mmm, I like the way you think.”
Figuring he had a solid handle on both the job itself and the lay of the land, Spence formulated the rest of his cover as he strode into the kitchen. He’d thought the ballroom was chaos, but it had nothing on the bedlam that was the stainless steel monstrosity of a kitchen.
White-clad workers scurried through the cavernous space like confused ants, many of them cowering each time the bulbous man in the center of the room bellowed orders and insults.
Yet over the babbling, bellowing and other kitchen noises, one voice caught his attention. Intrigued by the husky tone, it took a few seconds for the words to sink in.
“I’m so glad you’ll be joining us. Of course I’ll save you a dance, Señor Alcosta.” She paused just long enough for Spence to slip farther into the room. “Yes, absolutely. I’d be happy to meet with you Monday at noon. Your offices? Sounds great.”
Looked like the intel was right.
Spence had never once questioned orders, but he’d figured the admiral was overestimating the seriousness if this particular mission.
But now, given the list of accidents Mia Cade had nearly missed, and that she was definitely in contact with Alcosta, Spence decided those orders might be a little more serious than he’d thought. Prepared to report for duty, Spence strode into the kitchen. His friendly smile froze when he saw the woman pacing, phone in hand, in front of the walk-in freezer.
Damn.
She was even better looking from the front.
Her features were both delicate and sharp, in a triangular face dominated by huge amber eyes, lushly lashed and tilted at the corners. Knife’s-edge cheekbones seemed to point toward a wide mouth currently cajoling the chef with a creative litany of threats, praise and bribes.
Hair so black it reflected the overhead lights was cut almost as short as his but for a long sweep of bangs that swept across one arched eyebrow, curving nearly to her chin.
The front of the tunic crossed in front to gather at her hip, accenting her willowy figure. Throw in that husky voice that made even the mundane argument about lobster presentation sound sexy, and he was pretty sure she was the most tempting woman he’d ever encountered.
This was Cade’s daughter?
Damn, Spence thought again, this time in pure appreciation. He’d give a lot to get a good look at Mrs. Cade.
Even as he thought that, the woman ended her call, slipped her phone into her pocket and gave the chef a friendly smile.
“Now, as we were saying...”
And they were off, arguing over something to do with lobster, arugula and risotto. He watched as, obviously losing the verbal disagreement, the chef opted for physical intimidation. They were about the same height, but the chef had a good two hundred pounds on her, so Spence quickly stepped into the room.
“Look, missy, this is my kitchen,” the bull-shaped man growled. “I run it. I cook in it. I call the shots. You want me to cook this meal tonight, I serve it my way.”
“Actually, Jacques, I appreciate creative license a great deal, but you signed a contract to prepare a very specific meal. A delicious meal I know everyone is looking forward to. That’s what I expect you to serve tonight.”