HOT SEAL Target

by Lynn Raye Harris

  She was now. She knew she was. She’d worked hard to get there. But being beautiful hadn’t done her any good. It had brought her attention she didn’t know how to handle, and it had brought her Hunter. She definitely hadn’t been prepared for him.

  Quinn unlocked the door and stepped out. Blade was waiting, a silent, hulking shape standing against the wall. He wore a suit, and she knew beneath that suit he’d have a gun. He wasn’t her first bodyguard. The last one had been sent packing when Hunter found out he’d taken her to see an attorney when they were still in Texas. She’d had to beg the man not to report that trip, but someone had. Someone always did.

  “Blade,” a voice said, and she jerked to see Hunter striding toward them, face florid from drink, a smelly cloud of cigar smoke rolling off him. Richard Jenkins, the man he’d brought from Texas to take over the Hong Kong operations, stood a few feet away, waiting for him to return. She liked Richard, but his devotion to Hunter had cost him his marriage not too long ago. “Take Mrs. Halliday home, would you? I’m going to be here a while.”

  “Yes, sir,” Blade said. “Any instructions?”

  “Take her straight home. No stops. No side trips. No phone calls.”

  If Blade found that instruction odd, he didn’t let it show. He simply inclined his head. “Understood.”

  Hunter gripped her arm, put his face down into hers. “Be a good girl, Quinn,” he said, his cigar-drenched breath disgusting in her face. “And I’ll buy you something nice.”

  She refrained from jerking her arm away, but only barely. “I’m always good, Hunter,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  He snorted. “Not always. But you’re learning.” He stepped back, waved at someone on the terrace. “Don’t wait up, darling,” he added before he laughed and walked away.

  “I won’t,” she said under her breath. She tossed her hair and glared at Blade, who was watching her with a neutral expression. “You heard the man. Take me home and lock me up. I prefer it there anyway.”

  He motioned for her to go ahead of him. She made her way to the hostess, the wife of some government official Hunter was schmoozing for his company, and thanked her for the lovely evening. The woman inclined her head politely as Quinn expressed her thanks. When it was over, she headed for the door.

  Blade reached out to stop her before she could open it. “Wait until I call the car, Mrs. Halliday.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and huffed.

  A moment later, he put his phone away and nodded at her. “Let’s go.”

  He opened the door. But instead of letting her go first, he led the way onto the elevator and down to the circular drive in front of the building. The Rolls was there, the chauffeur bounding from the car to open the rear door.

  Blade handed her in and then he got in beside her. She’d expected him to go up front, so it surprised her when he sank onto the seat next to her. But she didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

  The trip back home took nearly half an hour because of traffic, but eventually they reached the building. Still she didn’t say anything—and neither did Blade—as they walked toward the elevator. But once they were inside and the doors slid closed with a soft whoosh, his brows drew down, his expression hardening.

  “Jesus, Quinn—what the fuck did you marry that guy for?”

  Chapter Four

  Blade didn’t understand it. Quinn had been a sensible girl when he knew her—or so he’d thought. And then she’d accomplished so much on her own, before Hunter Halliday came into her life, that it was hard to imagine how the fuck she’d fallen for him in the first place.

  She looked furious, but then her expression collapsed. She didn’t cry, but he thought she might want to. Her nostrils flared, her chest heaving as her breasts pushed against the satin fabric of her dress, emphasizing her cleavage, and Blade clamped down ruthlessly on his reaction. He didn’t have time to get worked up by a pair of tits, no matter how fabulous they might be.

  She tossed her mane of silky red hair and stuck her nose in the air. “I married him for the money. Why else?”

  He wasn’t sure he believed that. It was possible, sure—hell, he’d said so himself back in DC—but she didn’t exactly seem to be enjoying the money and privilege that came with being Mrs. Halliday.

  “And has it been worth the price so far?”

  He could see her trembling. See the tremor running through her, vibrating her body where she stood.

  “Nothing is worth this price,” she said softly.

  The elevator bumped to a halt and the doors whooshed silently open into the Halliday penthouse. Li-Wu stood quietly in the foyer, as if he expected orders of one sort or another.

  Quinn emerged, her heels tapping on the floor. Blade followed. She stopped in front of Li-Wu.

  “Thank you, Li-Wu. I don’t need anything. Please feel free to retire for the evening.”

  Li-Wu gave a formal nod. “Yes, madam.”

  He melted silently away as Quinn strode over to the bar and opened the wine refrigerator. She held up a bottle. “Wine?”

  Blade shook his head. “I’m on the job.”

  She shrugged and reached for a glass with slender, elegant hands, her manicured nails clinking the side of the crystal for a second. She set the glass down, took the stopper out of the bottle, and poured. Then she took a healthy swig.

  “I met Hunter at a party. My fitness blog was gaining in popularity and I’d been doing some modeling. I had a transformation story that people were amazed by. I’d lost a hundred and twenty pounds, and somehow there was a pretty face under all that fat. People were mesmerized.”

  “You were always pretty, Quinn.”

  She waved the glass as if to shush him. “No, I wasn’t. But I appreciate your saying so.” She took a sip of her wine. “Hunter blew me away. He was larger than life, so successful, and he seemed to know just what to do and say. He quite literally swept me off my feet. I’d never met anyone like him before. And he was good to my parents. My dad had cancer and Hunter paid for an experimental treatment. Dad made a full recovery, by the way.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  “I owed him so much.” She swiped at her eyes. “I married him happily. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive.”

  “So what happened?” Blade asked, thinking back to the way she’d cringed at the sight of her husband earlier. And the way Hunter referred to her as a possession. There was no caring in their relationship, not anymore.

  “Hunter likes to win,” she said. “And once he’s won something, he loses interest.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why he took it as far as marriage, but once we walked down the aisle… things changed.”

  Blade tried to process it all. There was so much he wanted to know, but he didn’t want to push her too far. “So why don’t you leave?”

  She snorted softly. “He won’t let me. I’ve tried.”

  “He can’t force you to stay,” Blade ground out, even while a part of him knew he was wrong. Rich people? They didn’t always play by the same rules as everyone else. Not to mention the fact Hunter was involved in criminal operations. If he’d do that, he’d have no qualms about doing whatever it took to keep a woman by his side.

  Quinn shook her head. “You don’t know Hunter.” She took another gulp of wine. “You have no idea how glad I was to see you today. Or how shocked. But once I got over that—well, I felt like maybe God had answered my prayers somehow.”

  His throat was tight. “What prayers were those?”

  She didn’t speak for a long moment. When she did, her voice was low and measured. “I’m tired of being alone. A friend would be nice, but Hunter won’t let me have any of those. And then you showed up, and he has no idea.” A small smile curled the corners of her lips. “I’m not alone now that you’re here.”

  Fuck. He didn’t know how long he’d be here, not really. He had an assignment, one that didn’t concern her at all except as a way to get him into this house. That made him fe
el like a shithead, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Aren’t you worried he’s recording this conversation?” Because Halliday seemed like the type of man who would do such a thing.

  “He has cameras, but they don’t pick up sound. Not here anyway. He’s afraid of foreign governments listening in on his conversations, so as much as he might like to record what I’m saying, he doesn’t. For fear they’ll pick up something he says that he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  Blade’s senses prickled. “What kind of things?”

  “You think I know?”

  “You might have heard something.”

  “I hear things occasionally. I don’t know how important they are.”

  He wanted to urge her to tell him, but he couldn’t be too eager. He’d give away the game if he did that. And what if she was playing him? What if this whole thing was an elaborate act?

  His gut clenched at that thought while his instincts told him it wasn’t the case. There was no way she was happy with Halliday. No way she’d protect his ass if she thought something she knew could get him locked up.

  But that didn’t mean Blade didn’t need to proceed carefully with her.

  “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool,” he said. “But if you do, I’m here.”

  She studied him. “Why do you care?”

  Be cool. “About what he’s doing? I don’t. I only care if you’re upset about it.”

  She chewed her lip. “Did you know when you took this job that it was me?”

  Fuck. “Not at first, no. But when I did—well, I couldn’t say no.”

  “Why not? We aren’t friends anymore.”

  “That’s my fault,” he told her truthfully. “I dropped off the face of the earth. But I still think of you as a friend. So, yeah, I took the job because it was you.”

  Her brows drew low. She swigged her wine and seemed to be thinking. And then she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they lanced into him. “I don’t really know anything. Mostly he goes outside to talk. Or he spends his time in meetings elsewhere. He’s always focused on the business, but right now he’s more uptight than usual. He’s got a deal with the US government to supply computer terminals to the military. He’s not as happy about that as he should be. I don’t know why.”

  She twirled the wineglass in her hand, her gaze fixed on the red liquid. “A man came here three days ago. He wasn’t anyone I recognized. He and Hunter went into the study and didn’t come out for an hour. When the man left, Hunter seemed shaken. He poured whiskey and drank it all at once, which isn’t like him. He’s a sipper, not a gulper. He drank another after that, the same way. Then he called for the car and I didn’t see him again until the next day. He was back to being his usual self by then.”

  Blade thought back to the dossier he’d read. Ian Black was having Halliday watched and they knew that a man who was reputed to be an enforcer for a Hong Kong triad, or mafia gang, had come to see him. The triad was involved in drug trafficking as well as counterfeiting money and goods. What they wanted with Hunter Halliday was a bit of a mystery, though clearly there was something going on if Halliday had been rattled by the meeting. But did it have anything to do with the microchips in his computers, or was it peripheral?

  “What do you think it means?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. Probably that he’s made a bad investment somewhere and he’s worried he’ll lose money. That’s the only thing he cares about.” She glanced up at the ceiling. He didn’t follow her gaze because he knew she was looking at a camera. He’d pegged them all when he’d entered earlier today. There was one in each room he’d been in, though he didn’t yet know where the control room was or what the cameras recorded. Except she’d told him they didn’t record sound, though he’d have to verify that for himself.

  She stood and grabbed the wine bottle. “I need to go to bed now. If I talk to you for too long… Well, Hunter will have questions. Good night, Adam—Blade. I’m glad for whatever remarkable set of circumstances brought you here. You make me feel safe, even if it isn’t true.”

  “You are safe. That much I promise you.” He didn’t want to let her walk away just yet. But he couldn’t endanger his mission here by doing anything Hunter would find suspicious. And talking to Quinn for an hour would be super suspicious. “Good night, Quinn. It’s good to see you again. I’m stoked as hell that you reached your goal, by the way. You look amazing—but you were always an amazing girl to me.”

  It was true, though he’d probably never told her that before. He’d always been amazed by her spirit in the face of so much adversity. Yeah, he’d stood up for her back then—but she’d endured so much before he’d even arrived and she hadn’t caved.

  She smiled. “But not a pretty girl to you. Which was too damned bad because I seriously wanted you back then. If only you’d been into fat chicks.”

  His heart throbbed. Yeah, he knew what this sounded like. And what his attraction to her now said about him back then. “I was a bit of an idiot.”

  “Yes, you definitely were. I’m the same person I was, though I find that most people like this package better than the previous one.”

  “I’d apologize for being shallow, but there is no excuse.”

  She tipped her head. “No, there’s not. Night, Blade.”

  He watched her tight ass sashay away from him until the hallway swallowed her up. Then he slanted a glance at the camera out of the corner of his eye. He was going to need to find a way to disable those motherfuckers if he wanted to get a good look at the apartment. But first he had to make contact with Black’s outfit and get some surveillance gear to smuggle inside. Then he’d go after Halliday’s spy cameras. He owed Quinn that much.

  Quinn woke the next morning alone. She hadn’t expected otherwise, but there was always the possibility that Hunter would return in the night and come to their room. Just because he hadn’t in months didn’t mean he wouldn’t one of these nights.

  She showered and dressed and then went to the dining room, knowing that Li-Wu would have breakfast ready. Her heart was lighter than usual as she contemplated the fact that Blade would be there.

  Blade. It suited him. In high school, he’d been deadly with his hands and legs. He’d been a blade, striking with precision and lethal skill. When he’d beat those bullies up for harassing her—well, it had been a thing of beauty. She’d watched as he’d cut his way through them, arms and legs moving so fast she couldn’t tell what he’d done until none were left standing.

  He’d gotten in trouble for it, but he hadn’t been repentant. She’d asked him about it. About what he’d done. He’d told her he’d grown up in Hong Kong, learning martial arts and fighting in street gangs. She’d thought he was the baddest man she’d known.

  It was incredible that he was here now, but it wasn’t unbelievable. He’d gone into the US Navy. She remembered that from the messages she’d gotten before they’d ended. That he was in private security now, and that Hunter would hire him from a firm, wasn’t as surprising as it was amazing.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d been to Hong Kong, and it wasn’t the first time she’d thought of Blade. She’d gone to the markets and shops, and she’d wondered if he’d been to the same places. She’d been kind of homesick, and she’d wondered where he was. If he was still alive, if he ever thought of her the way she thought of him.

  She’d searched on Facebook, but the only Adam Garrisons that were there looked nothing like him. So she’d imagined him living somewhere with a wife and kids, too busy and too happy to be on Facebook. She’d been glad for him.

  And then he’d turned up here, in her living room, shocking the absolute hell out of her. Now she couldn’t imagine him doing anything but working as a bodyguard.

  She dressed in her gym clothes and headed for the dedicated workout room she’d talked Hunter into putting into the apartment. It wasn’t large, but there were a couple of treadmills and a we
ight machine as well as a bench and some free weights. It was enough to get in a good workout. She was kind of obsessive about it, in fact. She never wanted to be so out of control of herself that she let the weight creep back on. She’d briefly considered letting herself gain weight again as an escape mechanism, but she’d realized that Hunter wouldn’t let her get away with it so easily. The moment he thought she was getting too plump, he’d hire some insane exercise guru to work her to exhaustion.

  Didn’t matter that he could stand to lose a few pounds himself. He was a hypocrite when it came to weight, and he’d ride her into the ground if that’s what it took to keep her at trophy weight.

  Well, it wasn’t going to take that. Quinn was in charge of her body and she was going to stay in shape for her own satisfaction, not his. She grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and then went into the gym, expecting to find herself alone.

  She wasn’t.

  Blade jogged steadily on a treadmill, his gaze fixed on the fog wreathing the mountains surrounding Hong Kong. He glanced over as she approached, but he didn’t break his stride. She got up on the machine, set her water in the slot, queued up her audiobook about a woman finding love with a military man, and started walking briskly.

  After five minutes, she broke into a slow jog. It was all she could do to jog at a steady pace for thirty minutes while beside her Blade sprinted as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. She cut her glance at him a few times, admiring the hardness of his physique. His breathing was deep and steady but not labored. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his skin as he ran. He wore headphones, so she couldn’t talk to him—as if she could find the breath anyway.