“Have you found anything?”
“Not really. No more than what we already knew.”
“That he was a cop who just decided he’d rather work for a private agency half a country away?”
Sam nodded, as though agreeing with me. “That seems odd.”
“There’s something not right about him, and I’m worried what’ll happen to Megan when she learns the truth.”
“Me too.”
“Let me help you. Let me help figure out what this guy’s up to.”
She studied my face again, her beautiful eyes uncovered by her glasses today. I found myself wondering if I lived up to her expectations, if I was the man she thought I was. Or better, maybe. I wanted to be better; I wanted to be everything a girl like Sam deserved. I wanted to get her attention, to sweep her off her feet. But there was something, some fear deep inside of me, that made it impossible for me to even make the first move. I’d never had that problem with other women.
“Okay. But we keep it out of the office. I can’t lie to Megan, and if she caught us whispering behind her back, I’d have to tell her everything.”
I smiled, thinking how absolutely naive and sweet that really was.
“Deal.” I shook her hand. “Now how about a dance?”
She groaned as I dragged her out into the living room, but she melted against my chest as we began to dance to the slow, steady rhythm of some old pop song.
I could really get used to this.
Chapter 25
Dominic
“I feel like a kept man,” I said, as the bellboy left the room and I turned to survey the suite Megan had arranged for us at a local hotel. Tomorrow we were boarding a flight early in the morning to Italy, a honeymoon among the ruins of Rome. Amy was so excited about it that she’d hardly been able to keep the surprise to herself.
“I hope so,” she said, coming up to press herself against my body. “That was the idea.”
“To make me feel cheap and used?”
“No. To make you feel pampered.”
“Oh, well, I guess that is another way to look at it.”
I lifted her chin and kissed her, drawing her closer against me.
“You look amazing in this dress.”
“You don’t look too bad in your suit.”
“True, true. But I’m ready to get out of it.”
She giggled, turning and running to the bedroom, her train of her dress draped over one arm. I followed, groaning when the bathroom door slammed before I could reach it.
“Come on, babe. It’s not like I haven’t see you naked before.”
“Not on our wedding night!”
I groaned again, crossing the room to pull the blankets back on the bed. There was a bottle of champagne in a chiller in the living room. I went and got it, popping the top and drinking directly out of the bottle. It was one of the most amazing wines I’d ever tasted.
I undressed, hanging the suit because I’d insisted on paying for it and was determined to find another venue to wear it to. But I was certainly looking forward to spending the next week in jeans and t-shirts.
I was sitting on the side of the bed in nothing but my boxer briefs when Amy came out of the bathroom. She was dressed in a white lace baby doll with these delicate little panties peeking out at the bottom. I groaned for a third time, this time because I couldn’t believe how lucky I really was.
“Come here, wife,” I said, my voice much deeper than usual.
She came to me and wrapped her arms around my neck as she stared into my eyes.
“We’re really married, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
She ran her hand over the side of my face, her fingers lingering on my jaw. And then she touched the tattoo that marked a date important enough that I wanted it always on my skin.
“When did you do this?”
“On leave just after Paris.”
“After we broke up?”
I shrugged. “I’d intended to get it done for a long time.”
“But after we broke up. You got the date of our first meeting tattooed to your chest after we broke up?”
“I didn’t believe it as the end. And it wasn’t.”
“But two years is a long time, Dom.”
“I know. But I would have waited twenty for you.”
“Just twenty?” She laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “Not thirty or fifty?”
“I would have waited a lifetime.”
She climbed into my lap, and we kissed, soft, gentle kisses that were almost painful. I wrapped my arms around her and tugged her hips tight against mine. She moved and…was it possible to want someone so much more every time you touched?
I lifted the baby doll and pulled it off of her, buried my mouth against her throat.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I never stopped loving you.”
She ran her fingers through my hair, then lifted my chin so she could see my face.
“Ditto,” she whispered.
~END of DOMINIC~
Epilogue
Megan
Back to business. I sat at my desk early Monday morning, staring at a screen filled with emails. Business emails related to the running of the company. Client emails, some from our basic security clients, some from those requesting information on bodyguard services or undercover investigative services. It was like swimming through a sea of Jell-O, weeding out the bullshit and mining out the diamonds.
I’d spoken to a man twice over the weekend who wanted to hire a bodyguard for his surrogate mother-to-be. She’d been assaulted in a public parking lot, and he was worried that someone knew she was his surrogate and was trying to either extort money or cause a miscarriage. I guess that was one danger of a celebrity trying to have a kid with some stranger.
I filled out a client form and got up, sticking my head out into the bullpen to find someone to assign the case to. Dominic was on his honeymoon. Cole was wrapped up in his own wedding plans—and he really wasn’t an official asset for Dragon, anyway—and Vincent was on leave for personal issues. Dante was sitting at a desk, working on paperwork that never seemed to get done. And Hayden wasn’t in yet. That just left Marcus.
Marcus was new. I’d only hired him a month or so ago. Like Vincent, I’d teamed him up with the others several times, but never sent him off on a case of his own.
Maybe it was time.
“Marcus?”
Marcus Hanson. He was a Marine, the same branch of the military I’d served with. He’d seen some action in Afghanistan, two tours. He was honorably discharged six months ago. He was born and raised in Illinois, but moved to Texas for reasons we hadn’t yet discussed. I liked to know all I could about the people who worked for me, but I tried not to pry. Like Vincent, Marcus was a quiet guy who kept mostly to himself. That would have to change if either of them planned to stick with Dragon for long.
He followed me into my office.
“I have a case. But before I give it to you, I want your assurances that you’re prepared to handle a case on your own.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
My eyebrows rose. “I need to know that you’ll follow our protocols and you’ll restrain yourself from becoming involved with the young target.”
“I’m highly professional, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you are. But this case involves highly sensitive information. Our clients trust that we won’t betray their privacy.”
“I would never do that.”
I studied his face for a long minute, wondering if I should put Dante on this one. But the idea of sending Dante off to protect a pretty young girl simply didn’t set well with me. Another reason why I shouldn’t become involved with an employee.
This was my business. And my business was built on trust. I had to trust him.
“Okay. Have you ever heard of Blake Zimmerman?”
“The football player?”
“Yes.
Marcus’ eyes lit up in a way I’d never seen bef
ore. Again I questioned my choice, but realized I had little choice.
I had to trust him.
~~~
MARCUS
Prologue
Cadence
I walked out of the lawyer’s office, my head spinning. This was it. I’d signed my life away. For the next nine months, or however long it took, my life belonged to the Zimmermans. I wondered what my grandma would think if she could see me now. She’d wanted me to change the world, to make a real difference. But I’m not sure she meant by giving a childless couple a child. I think she meant by becoming a doctor or a lawyer or something important like that.
And I was. I was a nurse. But I wanted to do more.
When I met Blake Zimmerman and his wife, Annie, I just couldn’t help myself. I’d never considered being a surrogate before. But when he mentioned that they’d tried everything else and a surrogate was their last option, the words fell from my lips before I could stop myself.
I thought Dr. Martinez might fall over when I spoke up. It was, after all, a sports medicine office, not an infertility office. To his credit, he saw that Mr. Zimmerman—Blake—was excited by the idea and he let it go. But he wasn’t terribly pleasant when he yelled at me later for breaking office protocol by speaking to a patient about a personal matter. I was lucky I didn’t lose my job.
Blake called me the next day and told me that he and Annie had been trying desperately to get pregnant for five years and nothing they did helped—infertility treatments, holistic treatments—they even went to a shaman at some point, but that didn’t help. The doctors told them that the problem was with Annie. She had scars in her fallopian tubes that prevented her eggs from traveling through them. Blake thought a surrogate would be perfect. But, so far, they hadn’t been able to find one that Annie liked.
She apparently liked me.
The contract was signed. Now I was headed to the hospital for my physical. If everything panned out, they’d try implanting a couple of embryos by the end of the month. It was sort of crazy, thinking that within the next two weeks, I could be carrying another couple’s baby. It was exciting.
And the money didn’t hurt. Blake didn’t want me to work while I was pregnant. He said all that stress could be detrimental for the baby. So he was paying me enough that I could take time off and not suffer financially. Not that I would have. When my grandmother died, she left me well off. I tried to explain that to him, but he insisted. He didn’t want me stressing over anything.
I wished I could find a boyfriend who was that considerate!
I stepped off the curb, and suddenly I was flying backward. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me off the street just as a car swerved, nearly hitting me.
“Careful,” a tall man said, letting go of my arm.
“Thanks.”
I looked both ways before I stepped off the curb this time. It wouldn’t do to have an accident now.
Chapter 1
Marcus
Megan was watching me as if she thought she could see something on my face that would tell her if I was trustworthy enough to handle a case on my own. If she knew that I was only here because it was the best cover I could come up with at the time, she’d probably throw me out of her office. Or give me all the best jobs; I’m not quite sure which.
“I need to know that you’ll follow our protocols before I offer you this job,” she said after a long silence. “And you’ll restrain yourself from becoming involved with the target.”
Who’d she think I was? Just because Vincent couldn’t keep his hands to himself…
“I am highly professional, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you are.” She looked me over again. “But this case involves highly sensitive information. Our clients trust that we won’t betray their privacy.”
“I would never do that.”
She hesitated a moment longer, her eyes moving over me like my drill sergeant in the Marines had done on the first day of boot camp. Then she sighed, picking up a file folder that’d been sitting on her desk.
“Have you ever heard of Blake Zimmerman?”
“The football player?”
“He was, I believe. But now he owns a bunch of car lots here and in Dallas.”
I nodded, more aware of who Blake was than she could imagine. He was part of the reason I’d left my home in Illinois—the only home I’d ever known beyond the Marines. Again, if Megan knew the truth about me, she wouldn’t even consider putting me on this case. But she didn’t know.
“He and his wife are on their way here. They want to hire a bodyguard.”
“For personal security?”
“No. To follow their surrogate around.”
I tilted my head slightly. “A surrogate?”
“To have their baby. She’s their maternal surrogate.”
“People still do that?”
Megan’s eyebrows rose. “It’s not ours to judge. We just provide security.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She handed over the file folder she’d been holding.
“The target’s name is Cadence Price. She’s a twenty-five-year-old nurse. She works for Dr. Martinez, a sports medicine doctor downtown. From what the Zimmermans have told me, she recently quit her job in anticipation of the pregnancy. Her address and known friends are in the file along with a brief bio. Memorize it. You’ll find her at the Zimmerman home this evening at seven. You can pick her up there. Follow her. Don’t let her know you’re following her. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The Zimmermans don’t want her to know they’ve hired us. They’re afraid it will put her under unnecessary stress during the medical part of her surrogacy.”
I inclined my head, wondering if that was really the reason.
“Is there a specific reason why they want her protected?”
“Someone tried to run her down with their car three days ago. She thinks it was just a random accident, but the Zimmermans want to make sure it wasn’t something more than that.”
“Does anyone know who she is?”
“Not as far as the Zimmermans know, but it’s almost impossible for people like them to keep their private lives private. It’s possible someone in the doctor’s office or their lawyer’s office leaked the information to someone.”
“Okay. Anything else I need to know?”
Megan studied my face for a long second, and then shook her head. “Your code name will be grosbeak. Whenever you call in, give your code name first so that your call can be routed to the appropriate place.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turned to go, but the door burst open and Sam, the office manager, stuck her head in.
“Dante needs you, Megan.”
A blush flashed across Megan’s pretty face at Dante’s name. Another asset, he was hired not long before I was. I saw the way he looked at her sometimes, the longing looks that he shot her when he thought no one—not even she—was looking. She lectured us about sleeping with our targets, but she was sleeping with one of her own assets. Very unprofessional. And hypocritical.
Then there was Sam. She was also beautiful—I was beginning to think that was something of a criterion around here—average height, but that was all that was average about her. She had long, silky auburn hair and green eyes that were often magnified behind prescription glasses. Her features were delicate, her body curvy, but also delicate in some strange way, and always hidden under frumpy, church-lady clothing. She had this aura about her of a woman who needed to be protected, but whenever Hayden pissed her off, this wildcat came out that was clearly part of a strong, independent woman who would resent a man trying to take care of her.
I liked her the moment I met her. If I wasn’t convinced that she and Hayden had something going on outside the office, I might have asked her out weeks ago.
And Megan. Tall, blonde, model-like…she appeared to be the opposite of what she really was. She looked like the kind of woman who’d be comfortable in a ball gown, the kind who spent h
er childhood flitting from party to party. But she’d been a Marine, and that came out in the way she ran her business. I respected Megan…until the thing with Dante became obvious.
“Morning, Marcus,” Sam said with a quick smile.
“Morning.” I flashed a charming smile, then tilted my head in Megan’s direction. “I’ll get right on this.”
I could feel them watching me leave the room. Neither of them knew quite what to think of me. And that’s the way I wanted it.
Chapter 2
Cadence
“Annie went out,” Blake said as he welcomed me into the living room of his home. “But she wanted me to tell you how happy she is you’re doing this for us.”
I sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, self-consciously pulling my skirt down over my knees. My grandma always told me that a lady should always be a lady, no matter the circumstances. Dress modestly. Always say thank you. Smile as often as possible.
Blake brought me a cold bottle of water and I smiled, “thank you” slipping from my lips without thought. I wasn’t even thirsty.
“The doctor’s office called and said all the tests came back perfect. They said you’d be ready to begin the procedure in a few days.”
“Yes. They called me, too.”
“The nurse said they’d already given you a prescription for the hormone shots?”
“They did. I’ll get it filled in the morning.”
“Are you okay with giving the shots to yourself?”
I smiled again. “I am a nurse.”
He smiled, too, and when he did, this dimple appeared in his cheek that made him look like a little boy trying to please his mother.
“I realize that. But I’ve also heard that medical professionals tend to be the worst patients.”
“I’ve heard that, too. But you don’t have to worry. It doesn’t apply to me.”
“Good.”
He sat on the edge of the coffee table and leaned forward, his fingers intertwined between his legs. He studied my face, his dark eyes full of curiosity and other things that I didn’t know him well enough to define. I tried to imagine what the child I would soon be carrying in my belly would look like. He was a handsome man—which explained the multiple endorsement deals he had during his football career—and that charming smile was enough to make most girls melt when he focused it in their direction. I fully believed that was part of the reason I volunteered to do this thing even though the idea had never crossed my mind before. Mix his impressive looks with my genetics—they normally used the wife’s eggs or donor eggs for these things, but Annie apparently had some issue with her eggs, and they didn’t want to involve another party—and the result would probably be an intensely beautiful child. Not that I thought I was all that pretty, but I figure that his pluses would far outweigh my weaknesses.
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