by KaLyn Cooper
“I didn’t shoot him,” Hannah corrected. “I… All I did… Oh, hell. It’s a long story.”
Isaac rolled his head to look down the couch at her. “I’m listening.”
No. She’d already said too much. He knew ISIS was after her and it was his job to keep her safe. He didn’t really need to know what an immature idiot she’d been. How easily she had been deceived and, without knowing it, had put thousands of others in danger.
“Maybe some other time.” She downed the last of her bourbon, loving the burn from her throat to her stomach. She could almost feel the alcohol move throughout her body, warming and relaxing her at the same time. Suddenly she was tired. “I’m going to bed.”
Isaac tossed back the last few drops in his glass. “I’m going to do a perimeter check.” He stood, snatching the gun from the table, and stared at her. “Don’t shoot me.”
She couldn’t stand the way he looked down at her, so she stood and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She walked away. Without glancing back, she called out to him, “You promised to make breakfast. I like my coffee with two sugars. The real stuff, not that imitation shit.”
When she turned into her bedroom, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rinse their glasses and place them in the dishwasher.
Some woman had trained him well.
Chapter 5
Isaac didn’t want anyone else to ride up the four-seat chairlift with them. He placed his pole so the woman next to him tilted over, falling into her friend.
“Come on, we can still make it.” He and Hannah slid onto the loading platform, each reaching back to grab the rapidly approaching seat. Expertly dropping into position, Hannah pulled down the security bar.
“That wasn’t very nice,” she chastised, but then grinned. “I’m not sure I could’ve handled listening to Chatty Cathy and Ditzy Dottie another minute.”
Isaac had to agree. The two women hadn’t shut up since they’d skied into the long lift line seconds behind Hannah and him. If he had to listen to another word about designer purses, he was going to pull the gun from his back and give everyone around them relief from their high-pitched voices. Obviously, no one had taught those women skiing etiquette because they constantly ran their rental skis over the top of his brand-new Völkls. He had never been able to own such a fine pair of skis and would not have these if it weren’t for his Guardian Security expense account.
The chair lifted them fifty feet above the ground. They were now completely alone and headed to the top of the mountain. Hannah had proven herself by dodging beginners on the novice slope, then again by gracefully handling an easy intermediate run. This time they would tackle a short black diamond before taking one of the more difficult intermediate slopes to the bottom. His confidence in her abilities had grown with each trip down.
Jumping right into what he needed to know, Isaac asked, “Do your parents own the house we’re staying in?”
“Yes, and no.” Hannah went on to explain. “When we were little, my parents and several other doctors went in together to buy the house under a corporation name. Eventually, my parents bought the others out. About two years ago, while my sister was clerking for a law office, she convinced my parents to reconfigure the corporation removing their names.” Hannah shrugged. “It all has to do with taxes, investments, and stuff I don’t really care to learn. It’s my parents’ money. They can do whatever they want with it.”
Clarifying, Isaac asked, “So there’s no way this house could be traced to your parents?”
“As far as I know, it will appear as though my parents sold the house over a year ago. At least that’s what my sister said when she suggested I come here.” Her lips drew in straight line. “They wanted to protect me and felt this was the safest place for me to be. That’s when they contacted your Atlanta office. They also stepped up security for all of us.”
Isaac looked at her for a long time. There was much more to that story, and he needed to know what specifically had happened. Something had forced her into hiding. “Tell me why.”
Hannah looked down on the treetops as the lift bumped over several towers. “I’m sure you know about my mom’s attack.”
He nodded. “That was in the file.”
“A few days after that, my dad disappeared. We were all concerned that he had gone after the men who had hurt Mom.” She shook her head. “The opposite had happened. Dad had been jerked from his car in the parking lot at CDC, beaten severely then thrown in our front yard the next morning.” She swallowed hard. “There was…they’d nailed a warning to his chest.” Her voice broke.
Isaac wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that he would protect her with his life. But he couldn’t do that. She was a client, and he had to remain professional, even though the look in her eyes was hot and needy the night before when he’d walked out of the shower.
Refocusing, he had to know what the note said. “Go on.”
She took a deep breath of the frigid air and let it out slowly, a white stream condensing in front of her. “It was written in Arabic. Turn over the Syrian whore or next time he’s dead.”
“What did the police say about your father’s assault and murder threat?” Isaac was furious. He had spent years fighting overseas to protect people back home, yet the threat to American lives had made it to the United States.
Hannah sniffed. “We never called the police. They didn’t do shit when my mom was attacked, why should we expect anything different because it was my dad?”
The Guardian Security report hadn’t included that incident. He’d have to add it when they got back to the house.
She watched a skier pass underneath them. “I had to leave to protect my family. Homeland Security wanted to put me into the Witness Protection Program, but my mother wouldn’t allow it. Even while I was in Syria, we talked all the time. At least once a week we’d Skype just so we could see each other.”
Isaac had a lot more questions but they were almost to the end of the ride. Hannah lifted the safety bar and they scooted to the edge of the seat.
“You ready to hit Stillwater Bowl?” he asked.
Her grin was cocky. “Think you can keep up with me?”
“Anywhere, anytime.” He shoved off the seat and glided down the ramp and to the side where they lowered their goggles. Snow had started falling on top of the mountain. He wove his thick mittens through the loops on his poles. He was good to go. He glanced over Hannah from the top of her helmet to her boots securely clamped into the bindings.
“Ready?” She called from behind the scarf that covered her nose and mouth and wound around her neck.
“After you,” Isaac gestured toward the double black diamond sign.
She was as good as her word. Knees bent, skis nearly touching, she planted her poles like a pro and swung the tails of her skis side-to-side, controlling her descent down the steep sides.
As they crested the top, Hannah moved toward a copse of trees. He skidded to a stop to join her.
She tucked her scarf under her chin and lifted her goggles. Her radiant smile said everything. “That was awesome, but I’m getting hungry. Besides, after this morning’s work out, I’m going to need a few minutes rest. How about we head to the lodge for some lunch?”
“Sounds good to me.” Isaac was always hungry, or so it seemed. “You want to take it easy on the way down?”
“Hell, no.” She lowered her goggles once again and turned the tips of her skis toward the black diamond slope next to them.
Damn, what a woman!
Hannah had stopped a hundred feet from the lodge so Isaac skied around to face her. She kept scanning the crowd.
“What’s wrong?” He turned his head to see what she was looking at. He automatically swept the area for threats. There were so many people. Presumably, many were removing skis to head inside for some lunch while others were destined for the slopes.
“Can we eat somewhere else?” Hannah’s eyes looked worried.
>
Isaac turned back to check the mass. The back of his neck was not prickling, though, like it had too many times overseas when he was in danger. “Certainly, but I need to know what’s making you nervous?”
“I just don’t like big crowds.”
He understood. Making a quick decision, he pointed toward the backside of the rental building. “Follow me.”
Pushing off hard with his poles, he headed to the familiar employees exit. Hidden from nearly everyone, he stepped out of his bindings and bent to lift his skis. He grabbed Hannah’s also. “My truck is on the other side of this fence.”
They exited through an almost secret gate into the employee parking lot. Clomping along, stiff footed in ski boots, they crossed to his truck and shucked off the nylon outer shells protecting their coats and pants.
Fifteen minutes later, they were in a small bistro enjoying hot chili.
“The crowd bothered you.” It was a statement, not a question. Isaac couldn’t get the fear in her eyes out of his mind.
“There are too many people to watch out for in a crowd.” Hannah sipped her sweet tea.
He completely agreed. “Then it’s a good thing we’re going to go cross-country skiing this afternoon.”
Hannah’s warm smile did something to him deep inside. “Thank you.” Her words were simple, but he could tell they were heartfelt.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet. This isn’t your typical cross-country ski area.” One side of his mouth kicked up.
She set her glass down on the table. “Exactly what do you have in mind?”
“Are you familiar with the Olympic winter sport, biathlon?”
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, staring at him for a long minute. She gave him a wicked smile. “So now I’m going to be tested not only for my cross-country endurance, but also for my rifle skills. Care to place a wager on who shoots better?”
“I’m pretty deadly at fifty yards,” he warned.
She leaned in. “I’m still lethal at 1,500 yards.” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “I have over one hundred confirmed ISIS kills. How many bad guys have you killed?”
No way. She was pulling his leg. He knew several SEALs who had double-digit confirmed kills, and everyone in the world knew Chris Kyle had over 160 confirmed kills, but Hannah? The small-framed woman sitting across the table from him did not look like the cool warrior persona of a sniper. She looked like the daughter of American doctors who enjoyed a good life of skiing at high-end resorts.
He didn’t know whether to believe her not. One thing was sure, he’d know how well she shot soon enough.
Hannah had insisted they stop by the house so she could pick up her weapons. Isaac got his own and checked in with Guardian Security. Her family was safe, their personal protection was checking in every four hours. The operations center hadn’t noticed any unusual activity around the house. Feeling confident, they headed toward the training course for the Winter Olympics biathlon.
After the third shooting station, Isaac was beginning to believe Hannah had told him the truth. The woman could shoot. No matter the position, her bullets hit bull’s-eyes. Some snipers he’d known shut out the whole world around him and focused only on the target in the crosshairs. Hannah seemed extremely aware of everything around her as she took aim and released bullets downrange.
The woman was fucking amazing.
Isaac was no sniper, but he had always shot expert. He’d practically been raised with a gun in his hand. His father had taken him hunting since he was old enough to walk. He’d spent hours shooting soda cans off fence posts with the .22 his father had given him for his eighth birthday. A pang of sadness bounced off his heart. That had been the year his mother had died. Two years later, his father didn’t have time for him anymore. He’d been too busy trying to keep his new wife happy.
“Isaac, you’re up.” Hannah’s voice broke through the rough path down memory lane. Thank God.
Isaac kneeled and positioned the rifle to his shoulder. He wasn’t using the .22 long rifle the competition mandated, but instead he had chosen his M4 a wounded veteran had built for him. Checking the slight wind, he moved the crosshairs a fraction to the left.
Bam.
He’d shot just to the left of center on the first of the five targets. He was dead center by the fifth.
He glanced over at Hannah’s. Her first one was a little tiny bit high and to the right, but each one after that was perfect.
Instead of his normal competitive streak rearing its ugly head, Isaac was proud of her. He wanted to go over and sling his arm around her shoulders and tell her how pleased he was, honored even to be shooting was someone of her caliber.
Instead, he simply told her, “Good job.” He stood. “It’s about a kilometer to the next one.” Good job. That’s the kind of thing you said your dog. He certainly wasn’t scoring any points with her. But, in truth, he didn’t need to score points with Hannah. This wasn’t a date, and she wasn’t his girlfriend, nor could she ever be. This was work. He was simply testing the skills of the woman in the stretchy pants that hugged that perfect ass and those long curvaceous legs.
Isaac slung his gun onto his back and stretched his stride to catch up with Hannah who was already twenty feet in front. He glanced around the shooting area, relatively sure they hadn’t been followed at all that day. They’d been making decisions spontaneously so it wasn’t like anyone could get ahead of them and set up an ambush.
After hours of fighting temperatures in the high twenties, pushing their bodies to stay vertical while skiing downhill, then competing in their own mini-biathlon, Isaac was ready to call it a day. Hannah had performed far beyond his expectations. She was incredible. Strong. Focused. Yet pleasantly feminine. He had no doubt she would be able to handle a few hours of backcountry tomorrow.
Taking out his phone, Isaac suggested, “Let’s get some burgers and fries to go. Would you be okay with watching a movie tonight?”
Hannah yawned. “That sounds absolutely perfect. I don’t feel like dealing with people right now.”
Neither did Isaac. He called the little bistro located in the village. It was a few blocks out of the way, but worth the trip according to his local friends. They weren’t wrong.
He and Hannah had entered the house through the lower level equipment room and put their gear away, wiping everything dry before properly stowing it. In silence, they had wolfed down the burgers at the dining table before Hannah had announced she was taking a shower.
Isaac took the opportunity to call in to his office. Only one vehicle had concerned them, making three or four passes very slowly. The license plate had checked out okay, though. Erring on the safe side, he rechecked every door and every window.
When Hannah emerged from the master bedroom, long wet strands of hair dripped onto the silky tank top she wore over nothing but magnificent breasts. The water had made the material nearly see-through as it clung to her dark nipples.
His mouth went dry as he tried to swallow.
He hoped the baggie ski pants hid his erection that grew and hardened with every step she took toward him. Thank goodness she hadn’t even looked up to see him standing at the end of the hallway.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever known such a beautiful woman.
The fact that he liked her, respected her, made this attraction even worse.
Of their own volition, his legs started to move toward her.
She abruptly turned and stepped into the small bathroom in the hall. His bathroom. Where his shaving kit sat open on the granite counter. Where Karl, his best friend from the Atlanta Center, had tossed in a box of condoms while he packed for Montana. What if she saw them?
So what? He was a twenty-six-year-old healthy male…who hadn’t had sex in over a year. But she didn’t need to know that.
He reached the door about the same time she did.
“Sorry.” She held up a hair dryer. “I needed this.”
Coconut hit him like a sledgehammer.
She smelled good enough to eat. At that moment, he felt as though he could devour every inch of Hannah, starting at her neck and ending between her legs.
She looked up at him with a self-deprecating smile that made him want to lean down and kiss her.
He couldn’t do that. He was there to protect her, not to make her come around his tongue, then again around his cock. Although having her in his bed would be the ultimate way of keeping her close, but she was also a distraction. He couldn’t keep her safe if his brain was more focused on sliding into her wet, moist heat than external threats.
He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach up and touch her.
“I need to take a shower.” And take care of the insistent bulge in his pants. “The operations center is watching the outside and will call me if they see anything suspicious.” Atlanta also had eyes on the inside of the house, a fact he didn’t dare forget.
“Okay.” She turned and walked back toward the master bedroom.
Isaac stared as her tight butt cheeks rose and fell. He wanted to grasp them, one in each hand, feeling them tighten and release as she rode his cock, taking them both to a place no bodyguard and client should ever go.
Stepping into the bathroom, he turned on the water and stripped. With the heat washing over him, he moaned his release for the first time in the year. He wasn’t sure whether to rejoice knowing his dick still worked, or chastise himself for wanting a woman he couldn’t have.
A knock on the door preceded her muffled voice. “Since you lost the biathlon, I’m picking the movie.”
“Go right ahead.” He’d sit through a chick flick if it meant being near her.
Chapter 6
Hannah hadn’t missed Isaac’s impressive hard on when she’d gone to get the hairdryer. It wasn’t until she looked in the mirror in the master bathroom that she realized she looked like a candidate in a wet T-shirt contest.
She was thrilled he liked her body. She worked hard to stay in shape. Someday, hopefully soon, she would return to Syria and her position with the YPJ. There was so much left to do, and she had the skills to make a difference.