HOT SEAL Target

by Lynn Raye Harris

  She wound down her workout, not as pleased as she usually was, and walked briskly as she started her cooldown. Beside her, Blade was still sprinting, and annoyance flared in her belly. She was just about to end her walk when he punched the button to slow down and ripped the headphones from his ears.

  His breathing was brisk but not labored. Sweat trickled down his brow and over his muscled chest and tattooed forearms. His shirt was wet. Quinn huffed as she walked, determined not to look at him.

  “Morning, Quinn,” he said.

  “Morning.”

  “You sleep all right?”

  “Well enough. You?”

  “Jet lag,” he told her. “But I’m working on it.”

  She didn’t look at him, though she could see his reflection in the window. Which meant he could see hers too.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “DC.”

  “Washington?”

  “You know of another one?”

  “No. Just checking.”

  “I got the call for the assignment and had to hop on a plane within hours. Otherwise I’d have acclimated myself better.”

  “What was your assignment before this one?”

  “The one I can tell you about is this one: rescuing a woman from a human trafficking gang. They kidnapped her and we had to go get her.”

  “We?”

  “Buddies. We all either work for the US government or we go into private contracting. It was a private assignment.”

  “Did you get the woman back?”

  He snorted. “Of course.”

  “And then?”

  He hesitated. “Some stuff I can’t talk about.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just can’t.”

  She drew in a breath. “Okay. How are your parents?”

  “Divorced,” he said without missing a beat.

  Quinn nearly stumbled on the treadmill. But she didn’t. Jeez, Mr. and Mrs. Garrison had seemed so perfect to her. Unlike her parents, who’d argued about everything.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Shit happens.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Five years ago. Dad was having an affair with his secretary. Midlife crisis, I guess. Mom told him to shove it.”

  “My parents divorced too. Mom was the one who cheated.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “It was inevitable. They always argued.”

  “I remember.”

  “Dad went back to Georgia. Mom is still in London. They don’t speak.”

  “Did they come to your wedding?”

  Quinn frowned. It wasn’t a pleasant memory. “They did. Mom with her new husband, Dad all alone and recovering from his cancer. He walked me down the aisle, but Mom was pissed about it. Like she thought I was going to choose her new husband to join him or something.”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.”

  She shrugged as she punched the button to stop. “It’s life, right? It’s what happens.”

  “Yeah, it happens. My dad remarried last year. Mom has a boyfriend. They’re friendly with each other. It’s kind of odd, really. I don’t know why they try. I mean, I’m out of the house and there are no other kids, so why bother?”

  Her heart pinched. Maybe because the Garrisons were decent people? “I don’t know, but thank your lucky stars. It’s far preferable to having them at each other’s throats.”

  He stopped the treadmill. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Bastard. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I spend time with both of them when I can, and they don’t give me a hard time about anything. Hell, we all had Thanksgiving together last year. Me, Dad, his new wife, Mom and her boyfriend. If it was awkward, they didn’t let on.”

  Her heart swelled. “That’s the way it’s should be. You’re lucky.”

  He got off the treadmill and picked up a towel, wrapping it around his neck. “I should shower. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes if you want to discuss your day.”

  She couldn’t help but gape at the muscles of his biceps as he gripped the ends of the towel that hung around his neck. His shirt clung to him, soaked with sweat. She wanted to peel it off and press herself to him.

  Not a good idea, Quinn.

  “I don’t have any plans,” she said. “I’m not allowed to leave the apartment without permission.”

  His eyes went dark and hard for a moment. “As you wish, Mrs. Halliday.”

  Her throat was tight. She didn’t want to be called Mrs. Halliday. She didn’t want to be Mrs. Halliday. But she had no choice. Hunter had made certain of that.

  “It’s not what I wish,” she said in a low voice. “It’s my reality.”

  His eyes flashed. “Tell me where you want to go. I’ll make it happen.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Honestly? Anywhere so long as it’s far away from here. But even you can’t work that kind of miracle.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “But give me time.”

  Chapter Five

  What the fuck had he said that for? He wasn’t here to promise her the moon. He was simply here to find out what her husband was up to. And if she was involved. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He couldn’t get involved in Quinn Halliday’s drama, no matter how much he might want to rescue her. And yet the hope flaring in her eyes made his heart swell with determination.

  Goddammit, stop.

  Her gaze dropped. Her face was red with exertion. Her russet hair was wound up in a messy bun on top of her head, and beads of sweat glistened on her skin. His gaze dropped to the neon-turquoise workout bra covering her breasts, the smooth flat plane of her abdomen, and the formfitting black workout pants that clung to her shapely ass. Geez, Quinn had changed.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said softly. “I appreciate the sentiment, really. But Hunter has too much money and too many resources. I shouldn’t have said I wanted to go far away. It’s not up to you to make it happen, so don’t worry that I expect it.”

  He wanted to tip her chin up and force her to look at him. But there was a camera, and he hadn’t yet gotten what he needed in order to redirect them. So he stood there like an asshole with his hands gripping the towel, staring down at the top of her head.

  “If it can be done, I’ll do it. I promise you that,” he said before turning on his heel and striding from the room.

  He didn’t look back in case Hunter viewed the footage, and he didn’t break stride until he was in his quarters, stripping the wet workout clothes and dropping them on the floor. He’d cased his room until he found the camera hidden behind the mirror of the dresser, then he’d unplugged the fucker. If Halliday didn’t like that he’d done that, Blade didn’t care. There were some things he wasn’t going to accept, and someone watching him dress and sleep was over the line.

  Blade went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Then he stepped under the hot spray and stood there with it pounding down on his back for long minutes. He kept hearing the resignation in Quinn’s voice when she’d said she was never getting free. Halliday was one of those rich assholes who thought he could buy and sell people. He’d bought Quinn, and he intended to keep her.

  Well, fuck him. Blade was going to find a way to break Hunter’s hold on her. First he had to figure out what the man was up to, and then he had to find a way to take him down. Only then would Quinn be free.

  Blade finished showering, pulled on jeans and a button-down shirt, slipped his Glocks into their respective holsters, then went to find something to eat. Li-Wu had asked this morning if he had specific requirements. The man had been shocked when Blade answered in Cantonese and told him that whatever the household ate was fine with him.

  There was a buffet in the dining room. Blade grabbed a plate and pulled off the cover of the closest chafing dish. There were fluffy scrambled eggs, so he took a heap of them. Next were sausages. He only took two. After that, potatoes. He grabbed a big scoop of those, continuing down the line with fruit and a big gl
ass of milk.

  He sat at the table and began to eat. Copies of the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, and the South China Morning Post lay folded neatly, presumably for Hunter or Quinn. Blade didn’t touch them. Instead, he asked Li-Wu for a copy of the Headline Daily, a Chinese language paper. Li-Wu brought it with a smile on his face.

  “Where did you learn to speak Chinese?”

  “I grew up in Hong Kong,” he answered. “My parents were in international finance.”

  Li-Wu nodded. “You speak without an accent. I wondered how that was possible.”

  “I was three when they took the job here. I had a Chinese nanny. She taught me both Cantonese and Mandarin.”

  “You live in Hong Kong now?”

  “Not anymore. Not for many years. But it’s good to be back.”

  Li-Wu nodded. “Yes, it is a wonderful place to live.”

  Blade ate a bite of eggs while Li-Wu busied himself at the buffet. “How long have you worked for the Hallidays?”

  Li-Wu looked up. “I don’t actually work for them. I am with a service that sends staff when required. I work for many different part-time residents. But this is my second stint working for the Hallidays while they are in town.”

  Which meant Li-Wu probably didn’t know anything about Hunter or his business. Blade nodded. “It must be interesting to work for different clients.”

  “Yes. There is never a chance to get very bored. People are so different.”

  Quinn entered the room then, dressed in a pair of black trousers and a silky tank top. She had on low heels, and her hair fell in a silky curtain to her ass. Blade had to work to keep his jaw from dropping. Li-Wu poured a cup of coffee and brought it to her.

  “The usual, madam?”

  “I can get it, Li-Wu,” she said softly.

  “It is my pleasure to serve, madam,” he said, smiling.

  Quinn shot Blade a look as if he would judge her for allowing Li-Wu to serve her, but then nodded. “Thank you, Li-Wu. That is very kind.”

  She took a seat and Li-Wu went to fix her a plate. He returned with a small helping of eggs and two slices of plain wheat toast with a side of jam. Then he brought her a glass of water.

  “Is there anything else, madam?”

  “No. Thank you again, Li-Wu.”

  He brought over a pot of coffee and set it nearby, then bowed and retreated from the room. Quinn put her fork into her eggs and took a dainty bite. Blade kept eating too. But he also watched Quinn. She took measured bites of everything, sipping her water and her coffee frequently, as if filling herself with liquid so she wouldn’t eat too much.

  “How’s your jet lag?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure it’ll kick my ass again soon. But I’ll power through it.”

  “I’m sure you will. I doubt Hunter will return for a few hours, so you’ve got time to nap if you need to.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He took a drink of his milk. “Does he often stay out all night?”

  Her eyes flashed as she met his. “He sleeps elsewhere whenever the mood strikes.”

  “Does it strike often?”

  “Often enough.” She set her coffee down. “He has a suite at the Peninsula Hotel. He thinks I don’t know about it.”

  “What’s he doing there that he can’t do here?”

  Quinn snorted. “Fucking whores, I imagine.”

  Blade nearly choked on a potato. He took a drink to dislodge it. “Jesus, Quinn.”

  She shrugged. “It’s true. Why hide it? My husband likes blind adoration. I’ve stopped giving it to him.”

  “And he won’t let you leave?” Blade shook his head. “That doesn’t make a lot of fucking sense.”

  “It does to Hunter. He doesn’t like to lose. If he lets me leave, it’s losing of a sort.”

  “Not if he’s the one to initiate it.”

  “He won’t. He likes his life just the way it is. A trophy wife at home and whores and groupies everywhere else.”

  “I don’t think I like your husband.”

  “Welcome to the club,” she said with a fake smile. “There are a lot of people who don’t like Hunter. It’s a wonder nobody’s taken a shot at him yet.”

  Blade’s gut tightened. “Don’t say stuff like that, Quinn.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  “Because if it ever does happen, you’ll be on the suspect list. Best not to have shit like that floating around. Somebody will know you said it and they won’t keep quiet.”

  She frowned. “That’s kind of a stretch, isn’t it? You’re assuming that it won’t be obvious who did it, if it were to happen.”

  He couldn’t tell her that in his world he was trained to think of all possibilities, no matter how unlikely. It was a big part of being prepared.

  “Might be a stretch, sure, but just keep those kinds of comments to yourself, okay? You never know.”

  She sighed. “Look, I despise him but I’d never hurt him—or anyone. I would hope most people who know me know that.”

  “If your husband ever ends up dead under suspicious circumstances, it won’t matter what people think they know about you. They’ll be quick to imagine they didn’t know you nearly as well as they thought they did.”

  She didn’t break eye contact. “Do we ever really know anyone?”

  “No, I don’t think we do.”

  Hunter returned around noon. He had his phone to his ear, as he always did, giving somebody on the other end hell. When he hung up, he turned his ire on Quinn. She was sitting on one of the overstuffed couches in the living room, reading a novel, her mind still on Blade and how her body sizzled with energy whenever he was near. Just having someone to talk to, someone she knew from before, made her life more exciting. It was sad, but she didn’t care so long as he was here.

  Hunter glared at her. “Why are you lounging around doing nothing?”

  Quinn’s belly tightened into a knot. “Because you haven’t approved any outings and my new bodyguard refuses to take me anywhere until you do.”

  Hunter looked mollified for a second. But then he got angry again. “We’re having an important function here in three days. Do you think you could do something about that?”

  Quinn’s heart raced, but she forced herself to be calm. To speak slow and measured. Like soothing a damned bull. “Li-Wu has arranged the caterers. I’ve approved the menu. If you allow me to go out for a bit, I’ll shop for the flower arrangements and decorations.”

  Hunter’s expression didn’t ease, but he waved a hand as if to dismiss her. “Fine. Go. Where’s your bodyguard?”

  “I believe he’s in his room, though I don’t know for certain. I can send Li-Wu to get him.”

  “I’ll do it,” Hunter growled before stalking off down the hallway.

  Quinn sat quietly, listening for any sound. She heard a distant pounding as Hunter rapped on Blade’s door in the staff quarters. She didn’t hear anything else for a very long while but finally Hunter returned, looking pleased with himself. He went to the bar and poured a whiskey, then sank onto a chair and picked up his phone again. Soon he was on a call, barking orders at Richard Jenkins.

  Fifteen minutes later, Blade emerged. His expression was carefully neutral, but she could feel the hostile energy rolling from him.

  Hunter didn’t notice as he ended his call with a terse “Get it done, Jenkins” and waved absently in Blade’s direction. “Take Mrs. Halliday shopping. Have her back in two hours.”

  “It will take longer than that,” Quinn interrupted. “Traffic.”

  Hunter dragged in a breath and then blew it out. “Fine.” He slanted his gaze to Blade. “Can I trust you to keep her out of trouble?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed. He liked to intimidate people, and that’s all this was. He’d done it with every single staff member they’d ever had and all the protection people he’d hired. Her last bodyguard hadn’t taken it very well, which was part of why he was no longer
here.

  Blade didn’t bat an eyelash. He simply stood and waited. Finally Hunter turned away and made a new call.

  Quinn stood and smoothed her trousers. “I’ll get my purse.”

  Blade tipped his head. “I’ll arrange for the car.”

  Quinn strode to the bedroom, her heart racing at the idea she would be alone with Blade for the next few hours. No cameras. No one watching or listening. She could talk freely. Laugh if she felt like it. Touch him, though she’d have to be careful about that since there was no reason for her to do so.

  The thrill ricocheting through her at the idea of a free afternoon was no surprise. But worry followed hard on its heels, threatening to steal any joy she might find in the outing. If she wasn’t careful, Hunter would fire Blade and then she’d be right back where she’d been before his arrival.

  Alone.

  Chapter Six

  Blade was having a harder time dealing with this assignment than he’d expected. He’d been here just about twenty-four hours now, and he despised Hunter Halliday in a way he usually reserved for proven traitors and terrorists. But the man was a walking piece of shit. A bully who took pleasure in browbeating those around him.

  When Blade had answered his door earlier, he’d been catching up on sleep. Hunter had been standing there, puffed up like a rooster. Without missing a beat, the man had started berating him. Then he’d ordered Blade to get dressed and get out to the living room.

  Blade thought that when he got Ian Black on the phone again, he was going to cuss that motherfucker up one side and down the other. And maybe Colonel Mendez too. They’d specifically chosen him because he spoke Chinese and he knew Quinn. But they hadn’t warned him strongly enough that Hunter Halliday was a major fucking dick.

  Yeah, he’d read the dossier on the man. But it didn’t go into a lot of detail about the way Hunter treated his wife—or his subordinates. Total dick.

  Blade waited for Quinn at the elevator. She strode toward him, wearing a pale yellow jacket over her silk tank and carrying a small purse. She had a pair of sunglasses in her hand and she slipped them on, hiding her eyes. They stepped into the elevator. Hunter walked up and down, his attention on his phone, gesticulating wildly as he yelled at someone named Jenkins on the other end.