* * *
Cedar Falls, Michigan
Quinn scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. Still no word from Chris. His phone went straight to voicemail. Tracking wasn’t working and Quinn’s gut told him something was wrong. Christ liked to go off grid when he needed a breather, but never during an op. They all knew the risk of not following the handbook. They’d lost a brother because of it. He’d be damned if he’d lose another one.
He pulled out his cell phone. Time to call in backup. And, somehow do it without alarming the women. He loved his family more than anything, but the addition of girlfriends had made his job harder. It was nearly impossible to hide things from them. They were intuitive and smart and knew how to read him and his brothers better than made him comfortable. He and his brothers needed to operate without scrutiny. Women made that damn difficult.
He tapped in a string of numbers and sat down to wait. Time to go find his brother.
* * *
Kell Wolff slowed to a walk, letting his breathing slow naturally. He’d pushed his body hard today and his muscles were protesting. Felt damn good. After a rough night with Shea he’d needed a good run. Her nightmares were coming more often now. She tried to brush them off as normal, but he knew they bother her more than she admitted. Her past as a CIA agent and the things she’d done in the name of national security was taking its toll now that she’d slowed down. Retirement tended to do that. Gave a person time to think. Not always a good thing. It also brought demons to the surface. God knows he had a few of his own.
Ryan’s face flashed through his head as he pulled out his cell and glanced at the numbers on the screen.
Shit.
Heart pounding for an entirely different reason now, he broke into a run and headed for his truck.
* * *
Evan Wolff landed a solid kick to the punching bag, followed by a flurry of jabs and uppercuts. Sweat rolled down his temple as he put his body through the paces.
The gym owner, Jordan Jones, stuck her head through the door. “Hey, Wolff. Your phone won’t stop making noise. Answer it.”
He turned in time to see nothing but her blonde ponytail swing around the corner. Jordan was always in go mode. She gave the term ‘multitasking’ a whole new meaning. She ran her gym with a firm hand. She knew her stuff and he respected that. He liked how she ran her gym. Kept it clean and organized.
He grabbed his towel and swiped his face with it before looping it around his neck. He’d left his cell at the front desk like always. He didn’t keep a locker here, preferring to carry his stuff with him. More habit from his career than anything else. He was always ready to leave in a split second. His phone remained at the desk with Jordan in case of emergency.
When he approached the desk, Jordan held out his phone while typing on the computer with her other hand and talking to the couple at the desk.
He glanced at the screen, felt his stomach hit the floor, and sprinted out the front door.
* * *
Nate Wolff glided through the cool waters of Blue Lake with long strokes. He’d swam to the island and was now returning home. He and Macy had a dinner date and he wanted to get in a good swim before getting ready.
He lifted his head out of the water to take a breath and got a glimpse of Macy standing on the end of the dock with her arms wrapped around her waist. She waved something in her hand when she saw him.
He sent her a wave and swam toward her with strong stokes. At the dock he braced his hands on the edge and pulled himself out of the water. Dripping, he stood next to Macy, smiling when he saw her feet were bare despite her long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Fall was fast approaching. Soon, the lake would be covered in ice
“You’re going to catch your death swimming in this weather,” Macy said.
He didn’t tell her he’d swam in much colder water for longer periods of time during his career as a Navy SEAL.
She held up his cell. “This won’t stop. There’s some kind of code from Quinn.”
Nate’s stomach dropped. He grabbed the phone, looked at the screen and leans down to kiss Macy’s cheek. “Sorry to do this, but dinner is rescheduled. I have to go.”
He left her standing there, but knew she understood and would forgive him for bailing. He’d caught one hell of a good woman.
* * *
Chris studied a pinpoint on the horizon. Too far to make out what it was. Which made it too far away to see a flare. He couldn’t risk sending up a flare for many reasons. If it was the bad guys a flare would bring them right to their location. If a freighter, the flare would be wasted and they only had two. On the other hand, if it was a ship or freighter, they could be missing an opportunity for rescue.
He heard Layla approach although she made very little sound except for the slight hitch in her stride. She came to stand beside him, her gaze on the horizon.
“It truly is breathtaking here,” she said in a wistful tone.
He found himself looking at her instead of the horizon. The view wasn’t the only breathtaking thing he saw. With her hair flowing free over her shoulders, lifting lightly in the breeze, Layla was gorgeous. Her beauty was natural. Enchanting. And not the type of woman he normally was attracted to. SEAL groupies, one-night stands, fast and hot sex without strings. He didn’t do commitment. Had no desire to settle down like his brothers. They had found their soulmates. Chris wasn’t looking. It was hard enough worrying about his family. God knows he didn’t need to add a wife to the mix.
Why was he thinking this way? He didn’t contemplate relationships. Ever. Hell. He didn’t want one. Save that for his brothers who seemed happier than ever with their significant others.
So, what was it about Layla that made him think unreasonable thoughts? She was a brainiac. She wasn’t a bombshell. Not that she wasn’t beautiful. Her beauty was different. Understated.
In the sunlight he noticed how pink her cheeks were and how pale her skin was. She hadn’t been out here long enough for sunburn or to explain the light sheen of perspiration glistening on her fair skin.
“I would give anything to see a rescue ship on the horizon,” she said, squinting as she stared off in the distance.
She was looking for comfort and he’d never been good at that sort of thing. He’d rather take on bullets than coddle. Most of the time his job ran smoothly with only a few wrinkles here and there. Nothing he couldn’t handle. And nothing that required coddling or comforting.
Not that Layla indicated a need for coddling. Hell, she didn’t even like to be touched.
Which annoyed him.
What the hell?
He should be happy she didn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. Wasn’t she the perfect charge in that sense?
Then why did it bother him so much and make him want to kiss her just to see her reaction.
Annoyed with himself for thinking that way, he said, “There’s nothing there. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
Layla didn’t know what caused Chris’s abrupt change of attitude, but the way he had looked at her made her world tip upside down. Her hormones actually stood up and noticed if the flutter in her belly was any indication. It felt good. Normal. Exhilarating. What if she could have a normal relationship again? The thought of trusting a man made her want to run away and leap in at the same time. What was her bodyguard doing to her?
Maybe she was coming out of her protective shell. Edward hadn’t raped her, but his assault had been enough to send her into a nosedive and retreat inside herself. It was safe there. No one could hurt her in that place. Maybe the time was coming where she could feel normal again. Be a woman again. Not be afraid of someone touching her.
It sounded nice. She so wanted to be a complete woman again.
And Chris just might be the one to help her with that.
A wave of nausea rolled over her and she squeezed her eyes closed. Okay, maybe not.
Deciding to walk it off, she followed in Chris’s footsteps and went to help.
&
nbsp; 12
Chris smothered a groan and mentally counted to one hundred in effort to calm his libido. Layla claimed not to like being touched, but at night that’s all she wanted to do. Freaking touch him. He’d waited to come to bed until she was asleep. As soon as he lay down and got comfortable, she rolled into his side and draped herself over him. He was a man. What did she expect from him? He didn’t think she even knew she did it because it never came up in conversation the next day.
Frustrating, to say the least.
Tonight, however, she felt unnaturally warm. He felt the heat from her body seeping into his. Actually, making him sweat.
Something wasn’t right. She’d looked a little flushed earlier today but she never complained of any ill feelings. Her leg had been awfully red when he changed the bandage. Possible she was running a fever from infection.
First thing in the morning he would redress her wound and take her vitals for signs of infection. They couldn’t afford one in this environment.
Cradling her head with his bicep, he let his eyes close.
Only to be awakened sometime later by the sound of a high-powered hum in the distance. His eyes flew open and he cocked his head to listen. Beside him, Layla mumbled something that sounded like a physics equation.
He listened for the sound again. Could it be…?
The sound grew closer. Hell, yes.
He shook Layla by the shoulders and rolled to a crouch. “Layla. Wake up.”
Her eyes opened and in the bright rays of sunlight poking through the roof he could see her pupils dilated and glossy. He put a hand to her forehead, feeling it burn beneath his palm. Damn. Fever.
“Layla, sweetheart,” he said, giving her another shake.
She blinked a couple times and then focused on him. “What? What’s wrong?”
Her words slurred slightly, but she sounded alert.
“There’s a boat coming—”
She sat up. “What? We’re being rescued?”
“I have to check it out to be sure. I need you to stay here and be quiet.” He met her gaze with a hard one of his own. “I mean it. Not a sound. And do not, for any reason, leave this shelter until I come get you.”
She struggled to focus on his words. “Why is it so hot in here? You want me to stay here?”
“Yes. You’re safe here. No one will see the shelter. It’s hidden.”
She blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. “Okay.”
She’d given in pretty easily. But he didn’t have time to worry about her state of mind right now. He had to go investigate the motor approaching the beach.
“Not a sound,” he warned before leaving the shelter and covering it back up so no one would find her. In case it was the bad guys instead of the good guys coming.
He found his knife and kept low as he crossed into the tree line to duck behind a large trunk, out of sight. The boat came into view. Black. Made for speed. Three men visual. The engine powered down as the vessel drifted into shore. The men jumped out, armed to the teeth. He recognized them immediately as the ones who had attacked them on the catamaran. Except the one who had replaced the dead guy.
The leader with the scar jumped into the water and splashed to shore. He gave orders to the other two men and they split into three directions. One headed straight for Layla.
Chris waited until the other two had disappeared into the trees to leave his hiding spot. He came up silently behind the new guy and slipped an arm around his neck. With controlled pressure he brought the guy to his knees. For a small guy he didn’t go down easy. He slammed an elbow into Chris’s already bruised ribs.
They fell to the sand, exchanging blows. Chris managed to get the AK out of the guys grip and slammed it down on the guy’s head, incapacitating him. He heard a stifled cry from inside the shelter. Otherwise, Layla remained silent.
To his left a shout. Something zinged past his head and he ducked instinctively. The other two must have heard the struggle.
He spun around and returned fire. He dodged for cover, drawing the bullets away from Layla’s direction. If she got hit by a stray bullet, he’d never forgive himself. No one was dying on his watch.
One of the men crumpled to the ground while the other advanced on him. Chris dropped down on a knee, aimed and fired. The guy dropped like a ton of bricks.
He lowered his weapon, quickly dispatched the other man and went to check the boat for others in case someone lay in wait.
* * *
Layla pressed a first to her lips to keep in the screams threatening to escape. The grunts and thuds coming from outside the shelter scared the crap out of her. But, not as much as the shots she heard fired. They sounded like they were right outside.
What if Chris had been hurt? Shot? What if he never came to get her?
So many scenarios raced through her head she almost left her safe place to go see who she had heard outside. But Chris had told her to stay put until he came to get her. He trusted her to do that. What would she do if she did find a bad guy out there anyway? She didn’t know self-defense.
God, she hated this. Hated how her stomach churned and her head pounded. It was so hot in this shelter she could barely breathe. Her body felt overheated. A stress reaction.
God, she hated this. Hated not knowing what was going on. She normally didn’t mind sitting on the sidelines. Letting others do the hands-on stuff suited her just fine. She was much happier on her own and working behind the scenes. This, however, tested her resolve.
In a very short time, she’d come to rely on Chris for many things. Her safety, her survival, their rescue. He was so confident it was hard not to. He inspired confidence. And it was incredibly attractive. Despite her past, she felt a draw towards the man she never thought she’d feel again. Or be able to feel.
Not really the time for such thoughts. She’d been having them a little too frequently lately. Could be their situation. Could be her reawakening. Her healing. Could Chris be the one to renew her faith in men?
Before Edward and his assault, she had one pretty serious relationship. Mark had been a member of her father’s marketing team. He’d ticked many of her boxes. They connected on several levels. Both were workaholics with a passion for numbers. They understood each other’s busy schedules. Didn’t mind the shared long hours. She’d been able to talk to him about her work and for the most part, he’d understood, which was so hard to find in a mate. What she did was complicated and, honestly, boring to most people. Mark had listened to her talk about her work, but not with a ton of enthusiasm. She’d been okay with that. What she hadn’t been okay with was the sex. For a brilliant man he’d been an incredibly inept lover. He tried to please her but she’d never been able to orgasm with him. Not while making love and not orally. Most times she let him finish and ducked into the shower to take care of herself.
It may not have been all Mark’s fault. She wasn’t very good at communicating her feelings. She didn’t know how to express herself face to face. She’d much rather be behind a computer screen. She could write anything. Ask her to express it in person and she clammed up.
She’d never been able to tell Mark what he was doing wrong or what she liked. Obviously, her silent cues didn’t work because he never picked up on them. So, maybe she’d been the bad lover. It wasn’t like she’d been very inclined to please him and it had left her feeling inadequate. Not a fun way to feel. Really did a number on her self-esteem so she steered clear of relationships of any kind. Less blows to her ego that way.
Then Edward happened which drove her even deeper inside her shell.
Something thumped outside her door. Layla jumped, stifling a scream. Silently, she prayed it was Chris and not the bad guys.
She stopped to listen, waiting for more movement. How she wished Chris had taught her some moves. Then she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable. Or scared.
One of the leaves was torn away from the opening. She couldn’t stifle her scream this time. It flew from her throat and split the air. S
he lashed out, prepared to fight off her intruder.
Her wrists were snagged in a vice-like grip.
“Layla. It’s me.”
She froze. “Chris?”
“Yes.”
She launched herself at him, holding him tight. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t know if you’d come back.”
His arm came around her and crushed her to his chest. She didn’t get the urge to pull away or cower against his touch. Quite the opposite. She felt safe. Protected. And it felt so good she wanted to weep.
“We have to go,” Chris said against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
As much as she didn’t want to, she let go of him and pulled back. Her head spun. Stress?
“I’ll get our supples.”
“No time.”
He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
She let him help her out of the shelter and to her feet. It was then she saw the red stain on his shirt sleeve. “You’re bleeding.”
She had to practically run to keep up with him and it made her leg ache. It ended up being more of a fast limp.
“It’s nothing.” He splashed through the water to the speed boat bobbing there. At the ladder he stopped. “Wait here.”
She did as instructed, and stood beside the boat, water lapping past her calves. All she could think about was the blood on Chris’s shirt and the bad guys they’d passed on the beach. Were they dead? She’d heard gunshots. Heck, it had sounded like an all-out war. Terrifying to say the least.
A shudder ran through her. She was reaching her limit on how much she could endure. She’d be seeing those bloody bodies in her nightmares for years to come. She’d probably need therapy.
Chris popped his head over the edge of the boat and reached out a hand. “Come on up.”
She grabbed the sides of the ladder and hoisted herself up. Chris helped her over the edge and onto the boat. Water dripped from her feet onto the deck. She didn’t know much about speedboats but this one seemed very basic. No bells and whistles. Big, double engines on the back but other than that, not much to write home about. It didn’t even look like it had a second level.
Necessary Risk: Wolff Securities Book 4 Page 6