by Dawn Ryder
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About the Author
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For Monique Patterson and the Team at St. Martin’s. Thanks for believing in me and all the help along the way.
CHAPTER ONE
“Do I need to remind you that your father considers this man a friend?” Colonel Decains asked.
Bram Magnus stared straight back at the colonel. “I’ve grown up with him as an uncle.”
Pain crept into his tone, despite his efforts to remain poised in front of his superior officer.
The colonel leaned back in his chair, but he took an eight-by-ten picture of a downed helicopter with him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the charred remains of three servicemen.
“That intel was sent through my passcode,” Bram said.
“You were hacked, son,” the colonel said. He frowned at his own use of a familiar term and tossed the picture down. “We’ll have the culprit tracked down soon enough. No one gets off this post unless I clear them.”
“That’s only half the problem,” Bram argued. “I’ve traced the intel to my sister’s house.”
“Which means she might be the buyer.”
Bram tightened his fingers until his knuckles popped. His superior officer didn’t miss it, either. Decains flattened his hand on the desktop.
“I appreciate your feelings, Captain, but we need to maintain our perceptive.” Decains tapped the picture. “Your father’s record and yours are both impressive. I don’t doubt that your sister comes from the same stock, which is why we’re going to do this by the book.”
“Zoe will check out,” Bram said firmly. “It’s got to be Tim. He’s the only other person who has access to my sister’s house.”
“Sure about that?” the colonel asked. “She’s plenty old enough for a boyfriend.”
“Check her out all you want,” Bram stated firmly. “Zoe will stand up to your worst.”
The colonel’s face tightened. “Glad to hear it. Your father is a friend of mine. I’d hate to have to tell him your sister is going to disappear.”
“You won’t have to,” Bram answered. “Zoe is no traitor, and she certainly wants both me and my dad home safely. I could have been on that helo.”
Decains looked back at the picture. “These men deserve justice.”
Bram nodded.
“I’m turning this over to a special branch of intelligence. Completely off the radar. They’ll send in a team to get evidence. They specialize in catching their prey with their hands on the smoking gun. We’ll back off on our leak here and give him a little bait intel to pass along. I’m going to leave your old access code active, no need to let him know we’re on to him. Besides, we can’t be outdone by one of the stateside teams. I want to catch this traitor with his hands on the cheese.”
Bram drew in a stiff breath but didn’t argue. It had to be done the way the colonel was doing it. His insides were knotted and he was half afraid he was going to puke from the knowledge of what his sister was going to endure. But he kept his composure and cut the colonel a salute before making his way out of the man’s office.
He itched to pick up the phone and call his sister.
He couldn’t.
Which pissed him off. Tim had been his father’s buddy longer than Bram had been alive but there was no doubt in Bram’s mind who was responsible. And it pissed him off knowing he couldn’t get his hands locked around Tim’s neck. At least not personally. Still, part of him was enjoying knowing Decains was setting a team on Tim’s ass that was going to tear him apart, bit by bit.
Exactly what a traitor deserved.
* * *
“The Magnus family has a good reputation,” Kagan said.
“They do,” Colonel Decains confirmed. The connection was scratchy, the distance between Afghanistan and the States showing up as background noise. It was the most detailed thing about the moment. The office Kagan sat in was stripped of anything that might be considered personal. The phone he was using was a landline that would be disconnected the moment the operation was finished. “That’s why I’m calling you. Make sure your team does a good job. When it gets to mopping up, there is going to be a full-bird colonel looking mighty close at the details.”
“You know my men are going to see the daughter as a possible suspect,” Kagan advised Decains.
“No way around it,” Decains agreed. “I’ll handle the heat over that point.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Kagan cut the connection.
There was little else to say. He lived in a world of shadows because that’s where he was most effective at catching the scum who did business there. The information was spread out over his desk. He considered it before picking up his phone and selecting a contact to reach out to. Agent Tyler Martin answered on the second ring.
“I have an assignment for you.” Kagan didn’t waste any time.
* * *
Tyler Martin liked his job.
In fact, it was his life.
Which was why he was going to make sure his future was a bright one. One thing about working shadow operations, it left a stink on a man. Once you were in deep, there really was no leaving, so it was best to ensure a long, profitable career. Sometimes, that meant doing some dirty work for powerful people.
Tyler considered the case Kagan had just assigned him. It was a gift really. A perfect little present dropped in front of him. One he’d been waiting for. That was another thing about shadow operations: the hard fact that just when you thought you were safe, fate would circle back around and bite you in the ass. He’d been waiting a long time to get in some payback. But today, that wait was over. Saxon and Vitus Hale were about to get a king-sized serving of it. It was going to be Tyler’s pleasure to dish it out. He’d been waiting for just the right case to take them down. Tyler looked over the details of the information Kagan had sent over and grinned.
It was perfect. Classified intel. Dead servicemen. All the components needed to blacken someone’s name forever. Since the leak was already plugged, there was no reason not to twist the operation to suit his own agenda. All he had to do was find the man on this side before anyone else did.
He didn’t spare a thought for the Magnus family. They had friends for certain but no other family, which made them an even stronger candidate for what he needed. They could be buried. They’d end up with full military honors or branded as traitors. He really didn’t care so long as they were dead and silenced. Tyler had his future to secure and it wasn’t going to come cheap. He’d always known that. But it was his blood or someone else’s, because the men he was negotiating with played for keeps. He couldn’t afford to get picky about the means. The opportunities would be few and far between. His own future had a price tag on it, one he had to pay if he didn’t want to end up dead himself. It was a dog-eat-dog world.
He selected a contact from among his teams and punched it. Time to assign Saxon Hale to the last case of his career.
And life.
Tyler didn’t let his conscience ge
t in the way. Congressman Jeb Ryland might be a whack job of an overprotective father but the man was in the right position to offer Tyler a secure future. So if Jeb wanted the Hale brothers taken out for pissing on his turf, Tyler planned to make it happen. A nice little treason case was the perfect answer. As for the Magnus family, well, it wasn’t personal.
* * *
“Now, he is hot.”
Roni rolled her words and ended up sounding like she was purring. Zoe glanced over to the man in question and wished she hadn’t.
Hot was an understatement.
She’d never known his equal, much less experienced what it must be like to have such a prime animal in her bed. Sensation prickled along her skin instantly, deep, carnal awareness twisting through her belly. The swiftness of the response sent her looking away with a shrug designed to protect her emotions from being spotted.
Roni was a master at sniffing out Zoe’s true feelings. It made her a great friend and major pain in the ass when life decided to deliver a punch to her solar plexus. Which was the perfect definition of a best friend. Zoe nodded, earning a husky chuckle from her pal.
“Lickable,” she agreed.
The guy really was a double shot of whiskey. The kind you wanted to take straight up then slam down the empty glass while you felt the burn smoking your insides.
Mega hot.
She looked down at her drink suspiciously. Maybe the bartender was just doubling up in the hope his bar would get a reputation as a great pickup joint.
“Oh Lord.” Roni jabbed her with an elbow. “What’s the point of hanging out at a bar if we don’t do a little window-shopping?”
“Point taken.”
Zoe lifted her drink and watched the man in question over the salted rim of the glass. He was wrapped in black leather, which made him doubly delectable. The jacket hung open, giving her a glimpse of a T-shirt that hugged a torso defined and tight. Dark hair and eyes gave him a slightly sinful, badass look, and combined with the black leather, he was like dark chocolate.
Premium window-shopping, for sure.
“I’m going to ask him to dance.” Roni slid off her bar stool with a click of her heels. “Wish me luck.”
“He’s not a dance-floor kind of animal.” Zoe wasn’t sure where the justification for her opinion came from, only that she was firmly sure of it. The guy was suited to shadows and thrived there. The only thing capable of scaring him was being predictable. Confidence radiated from him so thickly, it felt like he just might be worthy of the arrogance his stony expression declared.
“He’ll turn you down,” she muttered while setting her glass down. She was no longer interested in numbing her wits. Not when there was such a feast standing near enough to enjoy. Nope, she was going to enjoy the moment. Completely.
Roni fingered the strand of silver beads hanging around her neck. “You might be right; you’re definitely spot-on about the fact that he’s an animal … One I’d like to let play with me, no taming required. He can run wild … anywhere he wants to go.” Roni made a sweeping gesture with one hand up and down her body.
Zoe laughed at her friend. “You’re not normally the ‘toy’ type. Sure your modern woman can handle the hit to your pride? That man isn’t going to let you walk him on a leash.”
“Never let it be said I backed down from a challenge,” she declared in a husky whisper. “Besides, I fully intend to play as good as I get played with.”
“Matching collars, is it?”
Roni made a low sound in the back of her throat. “If I’m lucky.”
With a wink her friend made her way across the worn planks of the barroom floor, drawing stares from the shadowy booths lining the walls of the place with the sultry sway of her hips. It was really a whole-body thing, one that Zoe admired as much as she detested. Her friend’s ability to mesmerize the male population fit nicely with her flirtatious persona but tonight, Roni was focused on the man leaning back against the bar. He’d bought a longneck beer of some sort but had only taken a single sip of it. It sat next to him, forgotten as he scanned the room.
Another prickle of sensation went down Zoe’s back. The beer remained on the bar while those dark eyes landed on every single soul in the place. He looked like he was assessing them, cataloging them; like nothing was more important than sizing up the occupants of the room.
He sure wasn’t interested in the beer.
He reminded her of her brother, every motion controlled and his position selected for the best angle of defense. He was military-trained. No doubt about it, the guy had served time in something more than general ranks, if she was any good at judging body language.
Nosy …
The word floated through her mind, but she shrugged it off. Hell, if she was going to read anyone’s body, his was infinitely top-grade. Besides, she wasn’t up for a quick hookup. The main point of the evening was to ride shotgun for Roni and indulge in girlfriend time.
She wasn’t being nosy. He’d come into the bar, and bars were places to be seen.
Right … Now I’m justifying my spying.
True. But that didn’t make her thinking wrong. Zoe took a slow sip from her drink and peered over the rim of the glass at the subject of her thoughts. Her lips curved as she took another sip.
This guy’s body language said a lot more, too. Her eyes narrowed, the lids feeling heavy as she watched the way his hips worked when he moved. The sight set off something deeply sexual inside her. Heat was spreading gently across her skin and it was just too enjoyable to resist a few more moments of indulgence.
So what if he caught her staring?
It was a bar after all. Everyone in the place was there with sex on their minds. Maybe that was a blunt way to put it, but it was still true. Really, really true. One look at the tight jeans and short skirts was all you needed to confirm that fact. The groups of people crowded around the tables were there to connect with someone else, the drinks in their hands nothing but liquid courage. Even Military Man, animal that he was, had to be looking for companionship in some form. He’d be off on his own if he wasn’t in the mood for company. Loneliness had a way of reducing everyone to pitiful piles of need. Of course a man like him wouldn’t have to work very hard to gain a little company.
I wouldn’t mind being your choice tonight …
Her inner animal wanted loose. She felt her cheeks heat because normally she had better control over her impulses. Knowing that everyone else had the same urges didn’t keep her blush from deepening, either. She felt like he could read her thoughts. He had a demeanor that suggested he was more perceptive than the average guy. Definitely in more control than most. A ripple of sensation moved across her skin and she smiled, enjoying the response because it was so intense. There was something about the guy that just made her want to fling the rule book aside. No worrying about repercussions or anything lurking in his past.
He glanced at her, sending a jolt of awareness down her spine before Roni reached him, angling his head to look down from his six-and-a-half-foot frame. A bare half inch of black hair covered his head, the lights above him shining off the neatly sheared surface.
Yup … military. She’d bet on it. Lust teased her again, so she decided to bask in the glow of the heat. Window-shopping did need to be enjoyed, after all, especially if she wasn’t willing to lay down the price of making a try at touching the merchandise.
Why not? Why let Roni have all the fun?
Her inner voice was becoming more daring by the second, the heat gripping her body and urging her to abandon her common sense.
Yeah, well, impulsive sex came with too many risks for her peace of mind. It was a fun idea to toy with but that was as far as she was going. She needed to stick to her ideals because the leather-clad god across the room wouldn’t be the staying kind.
Oh, but the things I could enjoy while he was around …
Which would be followed by a guilt trip that would cost her too much self-confidence for her comfort. Besides, she wanted mor
e than just hot sex.
Ha! Not at the moment I don’t …
Zoe lifted her margarita and took a long drink, but the fruity taste didn’t mix with the sight of Mr. Untamed Temptation. She set her glass down, craving the hard bite of whiskey.
Yeah, I want hard … that’s for sure.
Roni did her best to get him onto the dance floor. He shook his head and reached for his beer instead. Roni propped one hand on her hip and pouted at him but he only tipped the bottle up, using the beverage like a shield. Roni didn’t give up; she continued to talk to him in a tone that was too low for Zoe to hear over the band.
Zoe reached for the bowl of peanuts sitting on the table and broke one open. She was bored. The music was good but the bar scene just wasn’t her thing. Roni thrived on the fishbowl experience. Her friend was turned out in a miniskirt and loose tank top, looking like she belonged up on the stage. She fit next to the brawn king, looking relaxed as she flirted with him. Another man leaned over and a moment later Roni was on her way to the dance floor with him.
Zoe grinned. Roni began dancing with a flair that made Zoe envious. Her body curved and moved with the skill of a belly dancer, only with a much more modern rhythm. Roni turned around and shot Biker Boy a look that made it clear she was performing for his enjoyment.
“Looks like you’ve been abandoned.”
Zoe got a glimpse of blue eyes and short-cut blond hair before the stool next to her was occupied. The guy set his whiskey tumbler down and considered her.
“I’m a big girl,” she responded while fighting the urge to look back at Mr. Untamed. The guy sitting across from her wasn’t second-class by any means. In fact, he was clean-cut, wearing a buttondown shirt with the collar unbuttoned and the cuffs rolled up.
“I noticed,” he said as he contemplated her. He reached for his whiskey and took a sip but almost as an afterthought, because his blue eyes were fixed on her.
“Saxon.” He offered her his hand across the small pub-style table.