AS A MAN OF ACTION, HE’D NEVER BREAK PROTOCOL. BUT HE’D NEVER BEEN SO TEMPTED…

Although he was trying to crack a global conspiracy, former soldier Jesse Cooper had an even more important mission: keep new hire and girl-next-door Evie Marsh safe. Shocked to learn Evie could be the key to bringing down this secret plot, the head of Cooper Security had to stifle his attraction to her. After all, the case was on the line—and so were their lives. But between dodging bullets and staying one step ahead of the enemy, temptation became impossible to resist. As a man made for danger, Jesse thought sweet Evie had no place in his world. Then, in the heat of the moment, she proved she’d always have his back—or die trying.…

“What happens now?”

His hand lingered a moment, his fingers warm against her jawline. “We’re going to a safe house.”

“We?”

“You and me.”

“Oh.”

He cocked his head. “Is that a problem?”

She shook her head. “No. No problem.”

Except it was. It was a huge problem. It was hard enough getting over her lingering feelings for her boss when she passed him in the hallway at Cooper Security three or four times a week.

How was she supposed to move on with her life stuck in a safe house with him 24/7?

Secret Intentions
Paula Graves

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alabama native Paula Graves wrote her first book, a mystery starring herself and her neighborhood friends, at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When she’s not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. She is a member of Southern Magic Romance Writers, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America.

Paula invites readers to visit her website, www.paulagraves.com .

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

Evie Marsh—Cooper Security’s junior accountant thinks she’s over the secret crush she had on her boss. But when she’s the target of a deadly group of guns-for-hire, and Jesse Cooper deems himself her personal bodyguard, will her resolve be put to the test?

Jesse Cooper—The former marine has dedicated all the resources of Cooper Security to bringing down a conspiracy that threatens countries around the globe. But when Evie Marsh becomes a target, will he risk her life to find the answers he seeks?

The Espera Group—The oil policy group has been pushing for nations across the globe to sign the Wolfsburg Treaty creating a multinational agency to control oil production and profits. But to what lengths will they go to get what they want?

Special Services Unit (SSU)—The ruthless mercenaries are paid well to thwart the Espera Group’s enemies. They’ll stop at nothing to use Evie Marsh against her father, a man whose secrets are putting his whole family at risk.

General Baxter Marsh—The retired Marine Corps general was one of three generals who uncovered a global conspiracy to manipulate the price and production of oil. So why is he determined to keep his secrets?

General Edward Ross—The late army general kept a coded journal during his last few years of service. But he died without revealing his part of a three-layered code key that could unlock the journal’s secrets.

Rita Marsh Kingsley—Evie’s older sister was once engaged to Jesse Cooper. Though recently married, does she still hold the former marine’s heart?

Nolan Cavanaugh—The computer genius knows more than he’s telling—and now he’s in danger. Can Evie and Jesse find him before the SSU does?

For my Aunt Marie, one of my most avid fans. I love you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Have you seen Rita?”

Jesse Cooper peered through the binoculars and wondered if he could avoid answering his sister’s question. He could pretend he hadn’t heard her or fake a reason to get off the phone. But she’d just ask again.

He lowered the binoculars and leaned against the headrest. “Briefly.” He’d spotted Rita Marsh and her mother entering Millwood Presbyterian Church a half hour earlier. Her father, General Baxter Marsh, had arrived a few minutes later alone. No idea where Evie was.

“She didn’t see you, did she?”

“No.” He hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

“You sure we should hang back so far?” Isabel’s voice held a hint of doubt. She hadn’t been the only one of his brothers and sisters to question whether Jesse’s “go it alone” decision had been the right one.

Jesse wasn’t sure he was right either, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t worried. And because Rita’s father had hired his own security for the wedding, Jesse and his Cooper Security agents couldn’t exactly form a perimeter around the church without drawing notice.

“We have to play it this way,” he said. “I’ll call if anything starts to go down.” He said goodbye to his sister and lifted the binoculars again, focusing on a compact car swinging into a parking spot near the side of the church.

Ah, there she is.

He adjusted the lenses to watch Evie Marsh stride toward the side door of the church, muscles flexing beneath her slim-fitting jeans. A long black garment bag draped over her shoulder no doubt held her bridesmaid’s dress. Jesse idly wondered what she’d look like in that dress.

Maybe he’d catch a glimpse after the wedding, when the bride and groom emerged for the rice throwing. At least he hoped it would be his first chance to see Evie in her dress—it would mean the wedding had proceeded as planned. No matter what his family thought, he’d love to see Rita Marsh married to her nice professor without incident. What he and Rita had shared had been over a long time ago.

His cell phone rang. He smiled at the name on the display. “Hi, Evie.”

“Where are you positioned?”

Not much got past Rita’s brainy little sister. “In the side lot of the convenience store across the street from the church.”

“How many agents with you?”

“Just me. I have others ready to move on my order.”

There was a faint rustling sound on the other end of the line. Jesse’s mind wandered into dangerous territory, imagining Evie undressing to put on the bridesmaid dress. He dragged his thoughts back under rigid control as she said, “I told you Dad hired a whole security team for the wedding.”

“That’s why I’m across the street.” He checked his watch. Eleven-thirty. The wedding was at two. Attendees would be arriving soon, making it that much harder to keep an eye out for anything strange.

“I should have asked you as my date,” Evie muttered.

“I don’t think Rita would have appreciated that.” Their relationship might be over, but he wasn’t exactly one of his ex-fiancée’s favorite people. “Or your dad.”

“It’s just stupid you’re sitting over there instead of here where you can see what’s going on.”

“I’m hoping nothing happens and all this worry was for nothing.”

“But you don’t really think that’s true, do you?” Evie asked. Jesse could tell she wanted to hope for the best, but she had never been a cockeyed optimist. Little Evie Marsh had always been a realist, even as a gangly teenager following Jesse and Rita around during their courtship.

“It’s best to prepare for any eventuality,” he answered.

He heard Evie’s soft sigh over the phone. “I’d better check on Mom and Rita. I don’t know who’s more high-strung today.”

“Is she really happy?” he asked before he could stop himself.

There was a long pause on Evie’s end of the line. “Yes, she’s really happy. She loves Andrew a lot.”

Jesse waited for a familiar twinge of pain, but it never came. “Good,” he said, meaning it.

“I’ll check in again before the ceremony,” she said and hung up.

Jesse closed his phone and picked up his binoculars, scanning the area for trouble and praying he’d find none.

* * *

E VIE LAID HER PHONE on the dressing table and eyed the closed door of the bride’s room’s inner dressing room. Rita was in there, talking with their mother as they finished the last touches on her hair and makeup. Evie wondered if her mother was asking the same question of Rita that Jesse had just asked of her.

Was she really happy?

There’d been a time Rita would have answered no. She’d spent a lot of time mourning her breakup with Jesse Cooper, although she’d been the one to end things when Jesse wouldn’t give up his Marine Corps career for her.

Rita shouldn’t have tried to force Jesse to be something he wasn’t. He was a leatherneck through and through, even now, years after leaving the Marine Corps. It was written all over him, from his masculine bearing to his hard-toned body and high-and-tight haircut. It had never made sense to Evie that the same qualities Rita had found so irresistible were the very qualities she’d wanted him to change to be her husband.

She supposed everything worked for the best. Rita had found a man who adored her and treated her like a queen. A woman could do a lot worse than Andrew Kingsley.

Evie eyed her bridesmaid dress. She didn’t relish the idea of squeezing herself into the tight bodice until absolutely necessary, but she didn’t want to mess up her hair again by re-dressing in her T-shirt and jeans just to go take a look at the sanctuary. The florist had delivered the flowers earlier that morning, so she hadn’t been able to get a look at the final decorations during the rehearsal the night before. She knew from her sister’s description that the sanctuary was going to be beautiful. She just wanted to see it for herself.

She compromised by slipping Rita’s white silk bathrobe over her slip before she padded barefoot into the corridor.

The sanctuary was at the far end of the hall, accessible by a double door that opened into the auditorium next to the piano by the altar. Evie stuck her head inside and took a quick look around.

Rita had selected an autumn palette for her wedding, her flower arrangements consisting of gold, russet and burnt-orange roses, lilies and chrysanthemums. The bridesmaid dresses were a rusty red that reminded Evie of dogwood trees in autumn. The pews were adorned with simple copper bows and the unlit unity candles at the front were a soft peach.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Evie turned to find a man in a black tux watching her from the front pew. On the pew beside him sat a large black trumpet case.

“Beautiful,” she agreed.

“I’m a little early. Or the rest of the orchestra is late.” He shrugged.

He was nice-looking. Early thirties, pleasant features, trim and masculine. Also friendly and uncomplicated. She’d had about all she could take of complicated, she thought, her mind wandering to the oh-so-complicated man watching for trouble from a convenience-store parking lot.

“You’re in the wedding?” the musician asked.

“Sister of the bride.” She smiled. “Guess I’d better go get dressed.”

She backed out of the sanctuary and started down the hall toward the bride’s room. She’d gone about ten feet when she saw a rush of movement through the windows facing the church’s side parking lot.

Security guards, she recognized, though the men her father had hired were in plain clothes rather than uniforms. They shared a fierceness of purpose as they streamed toward the door at the end of the corridor.

Panic tightened Evie’s gut. Had something happened?

As she started sprinting toward the bride’s room, someone grabbed her from behind in a strong, rough grip. She tried to struggle free, but her captor sprayed her in the face with something that stung on contact.

Pepper spray, she realized with shock, gagging as she tried to breathe. Her eyes slammed shut, burning as if on fire, and when she tried to scream, her voice came out in a tortured croak. She tried to remember the evasion methods she’d learned during her Cooper Security orientation training, but the pain in her eyes and her lungs overwhelmed her so that it was all she could do to draw her next breath.

A second captor grabbed her feet and lifted, turning her sideways and sending the world around her spinning off its axis. Blinded, gasping for air and disoriented, she landed on something solid and clawed for a foothold before realizing she was lying on her side rather than standing. She heard a solid thud of something closing, and what little light had been able to seep through her streaming eyes disappeared, plunging her into utter darkness.

The smell of pepper spray remained strong, and the skin around her face burned. She needed water, something to rinse off the residue of the spray remaining on her skin and around her eyes, but when she tried to move, she found herself confined.

She was in some sort of box. Feeling around the tiny confines of her cage, she felt the nubby texture of hard vinyl—like a case, similar to the trumpet case that had sat on the pew next to the musician in the sanctuary. But she was too large to fit into any sort of musical-instrument case. It had to be something else.

A sudden shift of position sent her sliding upside down. She put out her hands to keep her head from hitting the side of the box.

She was being moved.

* * *

A SUDDEN RUSH OF MOVEMENT across the church parking lot caught Jesse’s eye. He focused his binoculars on several men racing toward the side entrance.

He dialed Evie’s number. It rang three times before someone answered. “Hello?”

Not Evie, he realized with dismay. “Rita?”

There was a long pause. “Jesse?”

“I was calling Evie.”

“She’s not in here.”

Damn. He needed to know what was going on, but he could hardly ask Rita. She’d know he was there watching the church, which would make him look like a stalker. He compromised. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Rita sounded unexpectedly vulnerable. “I’m in the bloody bride’s room at the church, trying to prepare for the most important day of my life, and there’s an intruder supposedly prowling around the church. Now the bodyguards Daddy hired to cover the wedding have converged on the room, and I don’t even have my hair done yet. The wedding is only two hours away.”

Jesse frowned. An intruder?

He picked up his binoculars and scanned the area, looking for the unexpected. A few more people had arrived while he watched, bridesmaids and groomsmen either dressed for the wedding already or carrying their clothes. Parked near the sanctuary was a white panel truck with a black logo that read Audiovisual Assets—someone filming the wedding? Probably.

As he was about to look away from the truck, a couple of men came out of a side entrance carrying a large black, hard case. Frowning, he focused the binoculars on the case, which was large enough to hold a couple of oversize audio speakers. But that made no sense. Why would they be returning the speakers to the truck when the wedding hadn’t happened yet?

Increasing the zoom as the men shoved the case into the truck, he spotted a scrap of white silk peeking through the narrow space between the case and its hinged cover. His internal radar pinged loudly.

“Jesse?” Rita’s voice buzzed in his ear.

“What was Evie wearing the last time you saw her?” he asked.

“A slip, I think. Her dress is still hanging in here on a hook.” Rita paused. “My robe is missing—she may have borrowed it to go take a look at the sanctuary. She said she wanted to take a peek before the ceremony.”

That scrap of silk he saw might have been from a robe, Jesse realized, alarms sounding like a Klaxon in his brain. “I’ve got to go. If you see Evie, have her call me.” He hung up the phone and started the car, pulling out of the parking slot and easing to the edge of the road.

The truck was on the move as well, rolling slowly toward the exit drive of the church parking lot. It paused to let passing traffic go by, then pulled onto the road, crossing in front of Jesse.

He looked at the driver. Didn’t recognize him, but there was something about the man that rang all of Jesse’s warning bells.

He looked like a mercenary, he realized. Military haircut, hardened expression, cold, focused eyes. There was a second man in the passenger seat of the truck cab, although Jesse didn’t get a good look at him.

He pulled out his phone and called Isabel. “I’m on the move.” He explained his hunch tersely. “Rita said someone tipped off the guards. It could be a decoy.”

“And you think someone’s kidnapped Evie?”

“I hope to hell not.” He wanted to believe that any second now Evie would call him on the phone and make him feel like an idiot. A relieved idiot. But he couldn’t risk staying put. “I need you to cover the church until I get back.”

“Do you want anyone else to back you up?”

“No time for that. Just cover the church in case I’m wrong.”

“On my way,” Isabel said.

Jesse pulled onto the road, keeping a careful distance from the truck. If the driver and his comrade were indeed mercenaries, they’d know how to spot a tail. So he had to be better at tailing than they were at spotting.

He glanced at his cell phone, willing it to ring. He’d love nothing more than to be wrong about his hunch.

But the phone remained stubbornly silent.

* * *

T HE RUSH OF SECURITY toward the bride’s room must have been part of a diversion, Evie thought, pushing hard against the confines of her makeshift coffin. Her eyes still burned, and she was breathing with a distinct wheeze, but enough of the pain had subsided for her to shove it aside and concentrate on the bigger problem.

The box was almost as wide as it was long, which made moving around inside easier than it might have been, but it wasn’t quite long enough for her to straighten out completely. If she had to stay in this position much longer, her limbs would start to cramp up.

The sensation of movement and the engine noise rumbling in her ears confirmed she was on the move. Probably in the back of a truck. So her kidnappers didn’t want her dead.

At least, not yet.

SSU, she thought. Has to be SSU. Since joining Cooper Security a few months earlier, she’d learned a lot about the former Special Services Unit of MacLear Security. For over a year, Jesse and the rest of the Coopers had been involved in several run-ins with the ruthless group of guns for hire who’d survived to reunite after MacLear had collapsed under the weight of scandal. Evie wasn’t sure what they called themselves now, but thanks to the Coopers, she did know their activities were funded by a limited-liability company called AfterAssets.

And she knew they were after her father’s secrets. They must be planning to use her as leverage against her father.

Oh, Jesse, she thought. You were right. They did crash the wedding.

She had to find a way out. But from the inside of a box, there wasn’t a lot she could do to free herself. The borrowed robe confined her movements, especially with a piece of the hem stuck between the hinged pieces of the case. She tried tugging it free but it was firmly wedged, so she wriggled out of the robe, giving herself more mobility.

Think, Evie. What does the box look like on the outside?

It had to have latches, didn’t it? She could see almost nothing inside the closed box, but by running her hands along the walls of the box, she discovered what felt like the inner workings of hinge hardware on one side, which meant there were probably latches on the other side. If she could find something to slide between the body of the box and the lid, she might be able to nudge the hasps open.

Panicked laughter bubbled in her throat. If only she’d followed Megan Cooper’s suggestion to keep a knife in her bra at all times! But she wasn’t a Cooper, and cloak-and-dagger shenanigans didn’t come naturally to her. She had been a Cooper Security employee for just four months now, barely long enough to get through her orientation training and learn the ropes of working for a high-octane security company.

She made herself focus. No knife in her bra, but did she have something else she could use to slide through the narrow slit between the box and the lid? Maybe her earrings? They were made of copper, long and dangly, but flat and thin as well, as thin as the blade of a knife. She wasn’t sure they were substantial enough to give her the leverage she needed, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?

She took off one of her earrings, found the narrow crack between the lid and the box, and slid the copper bangle carefully into the space, moving it along until it hit resistance. Repositioning the earring, she pushed and felt something give.

Excitement bubbling in her chest, she pushed on the top of the box, testing its give. Was it her imagination or did it actually shift upward?

She wriggled down the box, probing with the earring until she met another point of resistance around the middle of the box. She repeated her earlier action, cursing when the copper earring snapped into two pieces, one remaining in her hand while the other slid through the crack and disappeared.

Sending up a prayer, she pulled the other earring from her ear and slipped it through the crack. This time, the obstruction gave way. She tested the box again. Definitely more give—through the blurry tears still burning her eyes, she saw gloomy half-light filter through the widening crack.

She had to completely shift positions to get to the final latch, wriggling until her head ended up where her feet had been. After a brief pause to catch her breath, she took care as she probed the third latch, acutely aware that if the earring broke this time, she was out of tools. The copper earring found the obstruction and she pushed against it cautiously. It gave, finally, and she laid her head back, shaking from nerves and the burning pain of pepper spray still stinging her eyes and skin.

If she’d indeed opened the final latch, the top of the box should swing open fully. All she had to do was make it happen.

Her heart pounding like a timpani in her ears, she reached up and gave the top of the box a sharp push. It opened more quickly than she anticipated, the lid swinging back and banging hard against the floor of the truck.

She froze in place, wondering if her captors had heard the noise. But the engine sound didn’t change. They were still moving.

She sat up slowly, peering through the film of tears streaming from her eyes. She could make out just enough to see that the interior of the truck was nearly as dark as the interior of the box had been. With shaking hands, she pushed herself up to her feet, alarmed by the violent trembling in her legs. The truck hit a bump and she fell out of the box, landing so hard on her side that she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.

Finally able to suck air into her burning lungs, she pushed herself to her hands and knees and crawled around the truck, trying to get an idea of how large her moving prison was. She seemed to be in a vehicle about the size of a small moving truck—large enough to haul furniture or other large items but considerably smaller than a big rig. At the back was a pair of double doors, the narrow space between them delineated by a faint strip of light. On the right side of the truck, there was the outline of another door.

She felt along the flat surface of the door, her heart sinking. There was no handle on this side of the door. She checked the other door and found no handle there either. And even if there had been, she realized, her captors would have firmly latched the door on the outside to keep her from escaping.

There was no way out.

Chapter Two

About a hundred yards ahead, the Audiovisual Assets truck pulled off the road into a gas station and parked in front of one of the pumps. In his ear, Jesse heard Evie’s cell phone ring once before a deep voice came on the line. “Cooper?”

Great. Evie’s father, General Baxter Marsh. Not one of Jesse’s biggest fans. “Yes, sir. I was hoping Evie had turned up.” He slowed near the gas station, watching the truck’s driver and passenger disembark from the cab and walk into the food mart. Jesse parked on the other side of the gas pump.

“No sign of her.” Marsh sounded worried. “What’s going on, Cooper?”

“I told you the wedding was targeted.”

“I hired security.”

“Sir, I have to go. I’ll call back.” He hung up, aware his abrupt goodbye would hardly endear him to the general, and stepped out of the car. The truck blocked his view of the food mart, which meant it also hid him from view of anyone inside.

This might be his only chance to look inside that truck.

He eyed the cab, making sure there wasn’t anyone else inside before he shifted his attention to the trailer part of the truck. On the passenger side facing him was a door set into the side of the trailer box. No padlock, just a sliding latch with a metal screw threaded through the latch to prevent it from being opened from the inside.

Interesting.

He pulled his SIG SAUER P220 from his hip holster and darted a quick look around the cab of the truck, trying to catch a glimpse of the truck’s passengers inside the store. But the plate-glass windows were a mirror, bouncing his own reflection back at him. He scooted behind the cover of the truck again and took a deep breath as he eased the screw from the latch.

He swung the door open, wincing as it made a creaking noise. He listened for sound from inside, but anything he might have heard was masked by the traffic noise behind him. He was going to have to risk taking a look. Edging closer, he stuck his head inside the truck.

Out of the darkness, a foot slammed against his forehead, knocking him backward into the gas pump. As he struggled to keep his feet, a small, half-naked figure leaped from the truck and tried to dart away.

He caught a slender bare arm and held his assailant in place, despite her fierce struggle. She was small, curvy and deliciously hot, and for a second, all sensible thought leaked out of his head as his body reacted to finding her soft body pressed so intimately to his.

The flailing, red-faced creature was Evie Marsh. Her eyes were swollen nearly shut, but that didn’t keep her from pounding him with her fists and feet as she tried to escape his grasp.

He shook her. “Evie, it’s Jesse.”

She froze, her body flattening against his, sending his head reeling again. “Jesse?” Her voice was a painful rasp.

He stared at her streaming eyes and dragged his mind out of his jeans. “What did they do to you?”

“Pepper spray,” she growled. “Get me out of here now!”

He darted another quick look around the cab of the truck. The door to the food mart was open, the two men from the truck emerging with large cups of coffee. The driver locked eyes with Jesse and went instantly on alert.

“Go!” Jesse half carried Evie across the gas-pump island to his car and shoved her into the passenger seat. Driven by the sound of pounding footsteps racing across the gas station lot toward him, he slid across the hood and half dived behind the steering wheel.

So much for a clean getaway.

He jammed the key into the ignition, bracing himself for gunshots that didn’t come. Leaving the gas station in a hurry, he turned in front of an oncoming car, barely escaping a collision in a flurry of squealing brakes and a few choice gestures from the other driver.

In the rearview mirror, he spotted the truck fifty yards back, barreling toward them. He slammed the accelerator to the floor.

“Are they behind us?” Evie turned in the passenger seat, squinting.

“No way can that truck catch us.” The extra weight of the truck would give Jesse the advantage, but if he didn’t keep other vehicles between him and the truck, a high-powered rifle could quickly even the playing field.

He also had the advantage of knowing the back roads of Chickasaw County better than their pursuers, whipping the Ford Taurus down a pothole-pocked blacktop road. The road cut past Mill Pond, where he’d caught one of the biggest bluegills he’d ever seen, and twisted up the southern face of Gossamer Mountain. Over the hill lay Gossamer Lake and home.

He checked the rearview mirror frequently. No sign of the truck.

“Do you have any water?” Evie tried to stifle a cough.

Jesse reached into the backseat to retrieve the bag of supplies he’d packed for his stakeout. He handed Evie a bottle of water from the bag, and she flushed her face and eyes. “Someone grabbed me at the church. Sprayed me right in the face with pepper spray. I couldn’t even catch my breath long enough to yell for help.”

“How about now? You breathing okay?”

“Mostly.” She coughed again. “I’m better.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed his brother Rick’s cell number.

Rick answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

Jesse caught his brother up on what had happened. “I’ve got Evie, but I’m not sure I should take her back to the church. Can you call Evie’s cell number? Someone will answer and you can tell them Evie’s safe.”

“I’m not ruining Rita’s wedding!” Evie protested.

Jesse slanted a quick look at her. “That can’t be a consideration, Evie. You know that.”

“Am I your prisoner?” she shot back, her glare lethal even through swollen eyelids.

“You think putting yourself and the rest of your family at greater risk is going to make her happier?” Jesse argued.

“Take me back to the church, Jesse.”

“Take her to the church,” Rick said. “We’ll meet you there.”

Jesse pressed his lips into a thin line, every instinct telling him to stash Evie in the nearest safe house. But was he letting his affection for Rita’s kid sister get in the way of his good sense? He needed Baxter Marsh’s cooperation now more than ever. Spiriting his daughter away without even consulting him was hardly going to win him over.

“Okay,” he said aloud, ignoring the twisting sensation in his gut. “We’ll go back to the church.”

* * *

“Y OU CAN ’ T POSTPONE the wedding.” Evie looked at her sister in dismay. “All that money going to waste? It’s ridiculous.”

Rita’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Trust you to look at it from an accounting perspective.”

“Rita, please. If you postpone it now, we let those creeps win.”

“You can’t walk down the aisle when you can barely see, Evie.” Rita winced as she looked at Evie’s face. “And I know you were looking forward to being my maid of honor.”

“I was looking forward to your getting married to a man who makes you happy,” Evie answered, even though her sister was right. She had been looking forward to being her sister’s maid of honor.

Their relationship over the years hadn’t always been close, especially during the teenage years when Rita had resented her younger sister’s constant tagging along, and Evie had been jealous of Rita’s being first to do everything. But they’d forged a strong bond over the past few years, and being her sister’s chosen attendant had been a big deal to Evie.

“Oh, Evie,” Rita murmured, her eyes filling with tears.

“I want you to marry Andrew and be disgustingly happy for the rest of your life. That’s all that matters.”

Rita’s gaze slanted to her left, where Jesse Cooper stood near the wall of the bride’s room, a silent sentinel. Evie wondered what her sister was thinking about her ex’s presence. She had tried to warn Jesse that coming into the bride’s room with her might not be the best idea, but he’d refused to let her out of his sight. Apparently he’d assigned himself to be her personal bodyguard, and he took the job very seriously.

“I should thank him,” Rita said, reluctance thick in her voice.

“It’s not necessary. He lives for this kind of thing.”

Rita’s lips curled upward again. “I know.”

Evie supposed she did. Jesse Cooper hadn’t changed much in the past ten years, despite his change of careers. The same strong sense of honor, duty and ethics he’d learned in the Marine Corps had traveled with him to his new job as head of Cooper Security.

“I’m glad he came.” Rita kept her voice low so that it wouldn’t carry to where Jesse stood watch. Evie suspected it was a futile effort; knowing Jesse, he could probably read lips.

“Why’s that?” she asked Rita.

“Because it helped me be absolutely sure I’m over him.”

“You didn’t know that before you said yes to Andrew?” Evie tried to arch an eyebrow, but the stinging pain of her swollen eyes wouldn’t allow it.

“I thought I knew. I was pretty sure I knew.” Rita smiled. “But now I know for certain.”

Evie darted a quick look at Jesse, wondering if he was over Rita, as well. Their courtship had been intense and passionate, their breakup equally explosive. Even now, Jesse couldn’t hide his reaction whenever Rita’s name came up in conversation.

“Are you sure, Evie? About our going ahead with the wedding?”

“Positive,” she answered. “And who knows? I have an hour to recover. If I’m feeling better, I can put a little extra makeup on to cover the redness and swelling. Besides, everyone will be looking at you anyway.”

Rita took a deep breath before she spoke. “Okay, then. We’ll go ahead with the wedding. Try putting cold compresses on your eyes. I want you up there with me.” She gave Evie a quick, fierce hug.

As Rita followed their mother back to the private chamber to finish her preparations for the wedding, Evie dropped wearily on the nearby bench, pressing her hands to her throbbing forehead. The stinging burn of the pepper spray had mostly subsided, and her vision had cleared up considerably, but those irritations had been replaced by the beginning of a brain-pounding headache. She hoped it would ease off soon because she was going to do everything she could to stand at the altar as her sister’s maid of honor, headache or not.

“You okay?”

She looked up at Jesse’s gravel-voiced query. “Yeah. Just working on a headache. All the stress, I guess.”

Evie’s father crossed to her side, subtly positioning himself between her and Jesse. “Do you need ibuprofen?”

“That would be great.”

Her father pulled a small pillbox from his pocket and fished out a couple of pain relievers. He slanted a pointed look at Jesse. “There’s a water fountain in the hall with a paper-cup dispenser.”

Jesse frowned, clearly not happy about leaving Evie alone, even with her father, but he’d been a Marine long enough to balk at disobeying an order from a general. He disappeared through the door.

“We need to call the police,” her father said. “They should be looking for the truck.”

“Jesse thinks the local police aren’t equipped to handle the men who kidnapped me.”

“Jesse thinks.” Her father grimaced. “Jesse thinks a lot of things.”

“He’s right about this. You know he is.”

“He thinks the men who took you were SSU agents.” There was little skepticism in her father’s voice, despite his obvious dislike for Jesse. He knew as well as anyone just how ruthless the mercenaries who’d once worked for MacLear Security could be. One of his most trusted colleagues had already died at their hands, and another had spent nearly a month as a captive of the deadly soldiers of fortune, along with his wife and daughter.

“I’m pretty sure Jesse’s right about that, too.”

Her father touched her face, his fingers gentle. “You’re not keeping anything from me, are you? They didn’t hurt you more than you’ve said—”

“No, they didn’t. But given time, they would have.”

Her father met her gaze for a long, electric moment, then looked away.

“You need to talk to Jesse about General Ross’s journal.”

Her father’s mouth tightened but he didn’t answer.

Evie gave a little growl of frustration. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this, Dad. Look what happened today—you think they won’t go after us again? Maybe Rita this time, or Mom. And Jesse Cooper won’t be there to save them.”

His gaze snapped up to meet hers, pain vibrating in his blue eyes. “I’m doing what I can to protect us all.”

“By staying silent? That’s not enough for these people. You have to know it’s not. I don’t understand why you don’t just tell people what you do know, even if you don’t have proof.”

“I’ll increase our security team,” her father said, ignoring her last comment.

“Are you going to make them aware of the level of the threat against us?” She shook her head. “If you put the average security guard up against the SSU, he’ll lose every time.”

She knew her father couldn’t argue. He’d been around for the downfall of MacLear Security, a once well-respected private security firm that had done business with the Pentagon for years. MacLear Security’s training corps had been made up of top-notch former military and law-enforcement personnel. Even the company’s legitimate agents had possessed the knowledge and skills of elite soldiers. And the Special Services Unit, MacLear’s secret unit of guns for hire, had layered those skills in with an utter lack of a moral compass.

Ruthless and violent, the SSU had been a wickedly efficient private army for a corrupt State Department official named Barton Reid. Their work for Reid had eventually led to the company’s downfall, thanks to Jesse’s cousins, who’d thwarted the secret soldiers’ plans to abduct a child as leverage. The Coopers had exposed MacLear’s seamy underbelly and brought the company down, but not before several of the SSU operatives had made their escape and formed a new alliance.

Funded by a mysterious company called AfterAssets, LLC, the dirty operatives had recently been involved in at least one assassination and another assassination attempt. They’d kidnapped an Air Force general and his family and now had tried to kidnap Evie, as well.

“They want General Ross’s journal,” she said.

“Do you know where it is?” her father asked.

She shook her head. “But they think you do.”

“I don’t know where it went after Cooper took it from Lydia Ross,” the general murmured, glancing toward the door. “I bet he knows.”

“Probably so. But it’s important nobody else knows where it is, because you seem determined not to tell us what you know.”

He bent toward her, as if he was going to tell her something, but a soft knock on the door interrupted. Evie crossed to the door. “Yes?”

“It’s me,” Jesse said from the other side of the door.

She let him in. He slipped inside, handing her a cup of water.

“Thanks.” She downed the two ibuprofen tablets her father had given her. “That took longer than I thought—did you get a call? Any news?”

He glanced at her father briefly, then looked back at her. “Rick and Megan found the truck abandoned on the side of the road two miles up from the gas station where I found you. We’re processing it for prints, but it’s not likely we’ll find anything.”

“You should bring the real police into this,” Evie’s father said with a grimace. “You’re screwing up any chance of a court case against these guys.”

“A court isn’t going to stop these guys. Half of them were already indicted along with Barton Reid, and you see how well that stopped them,” Evie told her father. “The bigger picture is what matters. We need to stop whoever’s funneling money to them to pull these jobs.”

“I know you think the Espera Group may have something to do with it.” Jesse looked at her father. “I know you want to expose their real agenda. But to do that, you have to let me help you.”

Evie winced as her father’s expression grew stony. “I don’t have to do anything,” he snapped. “Except make sure my daughter gets married today to a fine man who treats her like a queen.”

Jesse didn’t flinch outwardly, but Evie didn’t miss the slight flicker of anger that darkened his eyes. “Very well.” He turned to Evie. “I’ll wait outside until you’re dressed, then I’ll escort you to the chapel.”

“That won’t be necessary,” her father said. “I’ve already assigned one of my security guards to stick with Evie wherever she goes today.”

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Because they did such a good job before?”

Evie put her hand on her father’s arm. His muscles were hard with tension, but he remained silent as she looked at Jesse.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she was right. But having Jesse around today of all days was too stressful for everyone. Despite her earlier reassurances, Rita couldn’t be happy about Jesse crashing her wedding, however good his reasons.

“I’ll just go back to what I was doing earlier today, then,” he said.

She hid a smile. Back to the convenience-store parking lot, then. Watching over the wedding from afar.

A part of her wished she could believe his concern was specifically for her and not her family in general. Like Rita, she’d never been immune to Jesse Cooper’s sexy strength and leatherneck sense of honor. But unlike Rita, Evie didn’t find his hard-driving, adrenaline-soaked lifestyle a deal breaker. In fact, she craved the sort of meaning and purpose he seemed to find in risking his neck to help people. It was one reason why she’d taken him up on the offer of a job at Cooper Security.

But not the only reason.

Unfortunately, Jesse clearly saw her as Rita’s little sister and nothing more. So that was that. Time to get over her schoolgirl crush on Jesse and move on.

Still, her gaze remained on the bride’s room door long after he’d closed it behind him.

Chapter Three

The bride and groom emerged from the back of the church to a cheering crowd of well-wishers tossing birdseed. Jesse couldn’t resist the urge to raise his binoculars for a closer look, focusing on the pink cheeks and bright eyes of the bride.

Rita was stunning. At thirty-two, she looked nearly a decade younger, her fair skin unlined. Her cornflower-blue eyes glowed with a joy he could see even through the impersonal lenses of the binoculars.

She was happy. It radiated from her like sunshine, warming him from a distance. There had been a time when he’d have resented her finding someone else who could make her happy, but those days were long gone. Maturity and experience had softened the edges of his jealous nature and time had taught him that real love was unselfish.

He would always love Rita and want the best for her, but that didn’t mean he had to be the one to give it to her. If he’d been able to do that—and if she’d been able to make him happy as well—they would still be together.

Suit-clad men surrounded the bride and groom, guiding them down the sidewalk toward a limousine parked nearby. The reception would take place at The Lodge on Gossamer Lake, a sprawling resort on a scenic overlook with a stunning view of the lake. Jesse already had agents positioned there to augment General Marsh’s security contingent.

He watched the limousine move with a stately lack of urgency, the bride and groom waving at their well-wishers as they passed near the front of the church on their way out.

Jesse’s phone rang. Isabel. “You got the limo?”

“I’m on it,” she said. “You’re going to keep an eye on Evie and her parents?”

He spotted Evie waving at the passing limousine. Her face was still a little puffy and red, but her makeup job had hidden the worst of it, and her small, compact body looked amazing in the dark red gown she’d worn as her sister’s maid of honor.

Sometime in the past ten years, Rita’s gangly little sister had grown into a woman. She wasn’t tall and willowy like Rita, but what she lacked in height, she made up in lush curves in all the right places.

She’d been working out at the Cooper Security gym; Jesse had spotted her there a few times when he’d been working out himself. She’d taken the fitness ethic of Cooper Security seriously, even though her work was confined to the accounting department, and he’d seen the results of her efforts a few weeks ago when she’d been caught in a late-night ambush at the office.

She’d held her own, despite being injured and drugged by an SSU operative who’d been part of a siege on the building. Jesse had been impressed.

So why hadn’t he told her so?

Evie followed her parents to a black SUV driven by one of the security guards Jesse had seen earlier outside the bride’s room. But she didn’t get inside, shaking her head as her father clearly tried to coax her to join them. Finally, he stopped arguing and joined her mother in the SUV.

Frowning, Jesse watched the SUV drive away, his chest tightening with alarm. What the hell was she thinking? He sent a quick text to his brother Rick, who was parked nearby.

General and wife in black SUV. Follow.

He adjusted the binoculars and saw Evie was holding her cell phone in her hand. She punched a button and lifted the phone to her ear. A second later, Jesse’s phone rang.

He didn’t bother with a greeting. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Stop worrying.”

“Where’s your bodyguard?”

“On his way.” She pointed to a lanky man approaching from her left. “I just thought it would be better if we didn’t all go in the same vehicle to the reception. I keep thinking about what happened to the Harlowes.”

She had a point. General Emmett Harlowe, his wife and his daughter had all been kidnapped together from the north Georgia vacation cabin they owned. Spreading the Marsh family into different vehicles would make it hard for the SSU to get to them all.

“Be careful, okay?”

“You going to join us at the lodge?” she asked, falling into step with the guard as they walked toward a navy SUV parked nearby.

“That’s the plan.”

“There’s not a convenience store across the street where you can lurk.”

He smiled at the humor in her voice. “That’s okay. I know that area about as well as I know any place in the world. I’ll figure out something.”

“My guard is giving me the stink eye. I guess I need to get off the phone.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too.” She sounded serious.

He hung up and lifted the binoculars again, watching until she was safely inside the SUV. He started his car and pulled up to the road, waiting for Evie and her guard to pass. He didn’t bother trying to keep his distance. If the guard spotted him, Evie could explain his presence.

No way was he letting Evie out of his sight this time.

* * *

“H E ’ S NOT A DANGER,” Evie told the guard in the driver’s seat, a lanky, quiet man in his early forties. Her father had introduced him as Alan Wilson, a former Jefferson County prison guard. “He’s my boss.”

“Jesse Cooper?” Wilson asked.

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Everyone in the security business has heard of him.”

She felt a surge of pride and had to remind herself that she had little right to feel flattered by any praise for Cooper Security. She’d worked there less than half a year as an accountant, and she certainly had no right to take pride in any of Jesse Cooper’s accomplishments.

He was just her boss. Not even her direct boss—there were a couple of layers of middle management between them at least. And any personal connection between them had been severed completely less than an hour ago when her sister had married someone else.

She turned to look behind them, spotting Jesse’s car only forty yards back. She couldn’t see him through the glare on the windshield, but she took comfort knowing he was there. They started around a curve, temporarily hiding Jesse’s car from view. With a sigh, Evie turned back to face front.

And gasped as she spotted two cars sprawled across the road ahead.

Wilson spat out a couple of quick profanities, slamming on the brakes. Only the seat belt and her feet planted on the floorboard kept Evie from pitching through the windshield.

The brakes shrieked, the chassis shuddered as the SUV’s wheels struggled for traction, eating up a terrifying amount of the narrow distance between them and the cars ahead. Evie braced herself for a collision.

They stopped a few yards short of impact. Wilson’s hands trembled on the steering wheel.

Evie pressed her hand to her pounding heart. “My God.”

She looked behind them, expecting to find Jesse’s car right on their bumper. But he’d stopped well short. Of course. Nothing ever seemed to catch Jesse Cooper by surprise.

A cracking sound, incredibly close, drew her attention away from the car behind her. She felt something warm and wet splash her and looked at Wilson for an explanation.

For a moment, she couldn’t process what she was seeing. He was still upright, still facing forward, just as he’d been a moment before. But where his head met the headrest, blood and brain tissue splattered the upholstery.

Another cracking sound made her duck behind the dashboard. The window beside her disintegrated, pebbles of glass falling around her. In rapid succession, two more shots rang in the air.

Oh God oh God oh God!

She was still in her bridesmaid dress, shackled by the tight bodice and long skirt. Her feet tangled in the folds of satin as she unbuckled her seat belt and tried to crawl onto the floorboard to protect herself from more gunfire.

She needed a weapon. Some way to fight back.

She eyed the butt of the Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol peeking out from beneath Wilson’s bloodstained jacket. Tamping down a flood of nausea, she grabbed the weapon, grappling with the holster until she’d tugged it free.

She dared a quick peek over the dashboard. The two cars remained where they were, blocking the road. She could see a couple of men crouched behind the cars, the tops of their heads barely visible. Another gunshot rang out and they disappeared from sight.

Jesse, she realized. He was giving her cover fire.

If she could get back to his car, she had a chance. He’d get her out of here, away from the ambush. He’d take her somewhere safe.

But only if she could get to him.

The dress was a liability. She couldn’t run in the long skirt and didn’t have time or room to undress without putting herself in the line of fire. But if she could get rid of the skirt, she might have a chance.

She grabbed the fabric at the seam where the bodice met the skirt, took a deep breath and pulled as hard as she could. The satin tore away with a satisfying rip. She found the tear and pulled harder, separating the skirt from the bodice until it fell away completely. Wriggling free of the skirt, she grabbed the Smith & Wesson and took another peek over the dashboard just in time to see one of the assailants take another shot.

The bullet thudded against the frame of the car, shaking the whole vehicle. She swallowed a fresh flood of nausea and ducked again.

Okay, think. You’ve got to get back to Jesse. That means you may have to do a little shooting of your own.

She wasn’t a great shot, but thanks to her recent orientation training at Cooper Security, she knew how to lay down cover fire. Of course, doing that while running was a whole other thing altogether, but what choice did she have? Wait for Jesse to run to her rescue? That would just put him in the line of fire, too. And if she didn’t make her move soon, that was exactly what Jesse would do.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d hang back and let the situation unfold.

She took a deep breath and visualized her next moves. Open the door. Use it for cover as she fired off a couple of rounds, forcing the men behind the cars to duck. Then run like hell to Jesse’s car and hope she could get out of the line of fire before the ambushers got a chance to shoot back.

She tugged the door handle but nothing happened. It was locked.

She swallowed a frustrated curse and shoved the lock open. Gunfire split the air, making her flinch, but it seemed to come from behind her, so she made her move, swinging the door open.

Scrambling out, she kept her body behind the door and rose just long enough to fire a couple of shots through the shattered window. Then she whipped around and started running.

She spotted Jesse crouched behind his car door, his gun already firing a rapid fusillade of cover fire. Reaching the passenger door, she jerked it open and dived inside, hunkering on the floorboard.

Jesse fired three more rounds, already sliding behind the steering wheel. He fired a final shot as he turned the key in the ignition and slammed into Reverse.

Evie curled into a knot on the floorboard as they rocketed backward for a few endless seconds. Then the car whipped around, flinging her sideways into the door, and shot suddenly forward.

“Stay down!” Jesse barked.

She did as he asked, her pulse thundering in her ears, drowning out the roar of the car’s engine and the squeal of tires as Jesse navigated the winding mountain road at breakneck speed.

After what seemed like hours, the car slowed to a normal speed, and Jesse spoke again, his voice hard and tense. “You can get in the seat now. Buckle up in case we have to make another run for it.”

Slowly, she pushed herself up into the passenger seat, her leg muscles trembling as if she’d been running for miles. With shaking hands, she buckled her seat belt and stared at Jesse’s set profile, her breath coming in short, harsh gasps.

“Are you okay?” he asked without looking away from the road.

“Yeah,” she answered.

He slanted a quick look at her, a hint of amusement in his dark eyes as he took in her state of undress. “You’re rough on clothes, Marsh.”

She managed a shaky laugh that faded quickly as she saw the blood on her arms. “What do you think they’ll do with Mr. Wilson’s body?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. They might dispose of it to get rid of evidence.”

She blinked back tears. “Damn it.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a speed-dial number. “We’ve got trouble,” he told whoever answered.

Evie laid her head against the headrest and closed her eyes, trying not to give in to a sudden assault of nausea. The last seconds of Alan Wilson’s life played in her head like a skipping record, repeating the horror until she wanted to scream.

She heard the engine downshift, felt the forward motion of Jesse’s car slow and opened her eyes. Jesse had pulled off the main road and headed down a narrow dirt track that seemed to lead right into the middle of the woods. He put the car in Park, killing the engine.

“Do you need to throw up?” he asked flatly.

She looked at him. “No.” She swallowed hard and regained control over her rebellious stomach.

“It’s okay if you do.” He bent toward her, his body brushing hers as he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small canvas bag. He handed it to her. “It’s a first-aid kit, but there are some wet wipes inside. Clean up—you’ll feel better.”

She found the wipes and cleaned off the sticky evidence of Alan Wilson’s murder. “They’re fearless.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ruthless.”

“They’re not afraid of the police. They’re not afraid of being caught.”

“They don’t want to be caught. But they’re willing to take chances.”

She struggled with tears, hating herself for her weakness. “We have to stop those sons of bitches. Whatever it takes.”

Jesse turned to face her, reaching out one big hand to cup her chin. He made her look at him. “We will.”

A horrifying thought occurred to her. “What if someone ambushed Rita or my parents?”

“Rick’s following your parents. I just talked to him—they made it to the reception just fine. And Rita was already there, so she’s safe, too.”

“Unless they go after them at the reception.”

“I’m not sure they’ll want to take on that many people at once,” Jesse said. “But I’ve already called in reinforcements to cover the perimeter. Rick’s going to tell your family what’s going on.”

“What happens now?”

His hand lingered a moment, his fingers warm against her jawline. “We’re going to a safe house.”

“We?”

“You and me.”

“Oh.”

He cocked his head. “Is that a problem?”

She shook her head. “No. No problem.”

Except it was. It was a huge problem. It was hard enough getting over her lingering feelings for her boss when she passed him in the hallway at Cooper Security three or four times a week.

How was she supposed to move on with her life stuck in a safe house with him 24/7?

* * *

T HE SAFE HOUSE TURNED OUT to be a modest A-frame house on the western shore of Gossamer Lake, miles across the water from Cooper Cove Marina, the marina and fishing camp run by Jesse’s uncle and cousins. “Cooper Security bought it last year through a third party so it can’t be easily traced to us,” Jesse had explained as he led Evie inside.

There were three bedrooms. Jesse let her pick the one she wanted. She selected one of the two corner rooms, a surprisingly large and airy room with pleasant blue walls and simple navy curtains that blocked out the afternoon sunlight, sparing her still-aching eyes.

There was a bathroom at one end of the room, well stocked with plain, soft towels, washcloths, and a selection of soaps and shampoos. She tugged off her bloodstained clothes quickly and took a long, hot shower, trying to scrub out the horrors of the afternoon.

But only the blood washed away.

In the bedroom closet, she found clothes and shoes. Looking through them, she discovered they were mostly women’s clothes, in a variety of sizes ranging from petite to tall. The shoes spanned several sizes as well—apparently Cooper Security liked to cover all its bases.

She found a pair of jeans and a charcoal-gray T-shirt to replace her slip and half a bridesmaid dress. A pair of slip-on sandals replaced the rust-colored pumps that were making her feet hurt. She twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head, anchoring it with a pencil she found on the writing desk by the bed.

She checked her reflection in the dresser mirror. She looked a wreck, her red-rimmed eyes wide and haunted.

Get control, Marsh. You can handle this.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, she wiped the shell-shocked look from her face and went back to the front room to look for Jesse.

She found him on his cell phone, talking to his brother. “Rick, tell Aaron we’ll both give him a statement as soon as we feel safe, but first, he has to find the shooters. I gave you the description.” Jesse looked up as she entered, his dark-eyed gaze typically inscrutable. Jesse was a cipher. Always had been, even as a young Marine recruit madly in love with a general’s daughter. Evie wasn’t sure Rita had realized just how complicated a man she’d fallen for, but Evie had known all along.

It was one of the most irresistible things about him. Who didn’t love a mystery?

“Make sure her parents and sister know she’s okay,” he said into the phone. “They’ll probably want to see her—”

“And I want to see them,” she said firmly.

He held up one finger, annoying her. She clamped her mouth closed and sat on the sofa opposite his chair.

“Tell them it’s not safe.” Jesse shot her a pointed look. She pressed her lips together more tightly and held her tongue, waiting until he finished with his brother. When he finally hung up the phone, he turned to look at her, preempting her next words. “Your parents will be calling from a secure phone in about twenty minutes.”

“I want to see them, not just talk to them.”

“Evie, someone just tried to kidnap you a second time. We’re damned lucky we’re both still alive.”

She knew he was right, but she didn’t have to like it. “I can’t imagine my father will be happy about this situation.”

Jesse’s eyebrow ticked upward. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“What are you going to tell him when he calls?”

“That you need protection.”

“He’ll want his own people to guard me.”

Jesse’s mouth set in a grim line. “Too bad.”

“Don’t goad him about it.”

“I won’t. But he’s being stubborn. He’s not going to find a security crew better equipped to handle the threat than Cooper Security. We know more about the SSU and AfterAssets than anyone out there. We have an entire section dedicated to bringing them down. He should let us help him protect not just you but the rest of your family, as well.”

“I’m on your side, Jesse. You don’t have to convince me.”

“I know.” His gaze shifted slightly, and she looked down to see that the T-shirt she’d selected was stretched tight across her breasts.

Self-consciously, she crossed her arms in front of her. “I could use some clothes that fit better.”

“I know. Tell me your size and I’ll have someone do some shopping at the thrift store in Gossamer Ridge for you.” Jesse leaned closer, his gaze narrowed as he searched her face. “Your eyes still look pretty red and swollen. Do they hurt?”

“They’re better.” They weren’t stinging anymore, although the sensitive skin around her eyes felt tender and raw. “The blurry vision has gone away.”

To her surprise, he reached out and touched her cheek. “I’m so sorry about what you’ve been through today. I know it had to be terrifying.”

“I didn’t have time to think about it,” she admitted. “Not then.”

He dropped his hand to cover hers. His palm was warm and dry, driving home how cold her own hands were.

With a look of apology, he said, “I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the last few hours.”

Chapter Four

Evie eased her hands away from Jesse’s grasp and sat up straighter. “You know they grabbed me outside the sanctuary. I told you that, right?”

He nodded. “They put you in that box I saw them carrying.”

“Right. I think it was one of those big cases large audio speakers go in.”

Jesse nodded. “That makes sense. The truck had a logo on the side—Audiovisual Assets.”

“Assets.” The word clicked into focus. “As in AfterAssets?”

He looked surprised. “I hadn’t thought about that. But because we’re pretty sure those guys were former SSU operatives, it makes sense.”

“They definitely gave off the stench of the SSU. All business. I was out of commission and stuck in that box before I had time to think.”

“How did you get out?”

She managed a grin. “I used my earrings to slide through the space between the box and the lid to push the latches open.”

He smiled. “Everybody always underestimates you, don’t they?”

She felt ridiculously pleased at the indirect compliment. “At their peril,” she said with a bright bravado she didn’t quite feel. The full impact of what had happened to her had begun to sink in. Jesse was right—she’d been lucky today. Twice. “How did you know to follow the truck anyway?”

“A hunch,” he admitted. He told her about seeing the silk sticking out of the box. “When I called your phone and got Rita, I couldn’t shake the feeling that you were inside that box.”

She tamped down a shiver. “Thank God for your hunches.”

He got up from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa, sliding his arm around her shoulder. She fought the urge to sink into his arms, acutely aware of the danger that lay behind that desire.

Beyond the fact that he was her boss, he was also about as off-limits as a man came. He’d been her sister’s fiancé, and she was pretty sure he still harbored feelings for Rita that would never go away. She’d already spent her whole life coming in second to her brilliant, beautiful sister. She wasn’t going to do that with Jesse Cooper. It was long past time to let go of her girlhood crush on him.

Jesse’s cell phone rang, giving her an excuse to ease out of his grasp. He looked at the display, frowning a little as he answered. “Hello?”

After a pause, he held out the phone to her. “Your father.”

She took the phone, dismayed at how her hand was shaking. “Daddy?”

Her father’s deep growl rumbled over the phone line. “Kitten, are you okay? Cooper’s brother told me what happened to you.”

“I’m fine.” She blinked back the unexpected tears stinging her eyes. It had been a long time since her father had used his old pet name for her. Their relationship had been difficult for the past few months, ever since she’d told him she was taking the accounting job at Cooper Security. It was good to hear him speak to her without the strain of disapproval.

“You don’t sound fine. What happened exactly?”

She told her father about the ambush, trying to make it sound less scary than it had been at the time. “Jesse helped me get away. I was lucky.”

“You tell Cooper you want to come home.”

“Daddy—”

“I’ll hire extra security.”

“Hire Cooper Security,” she said. “We’re all still in danger. And the security team you’ve hired isn’t capable of dealing with these people.”

“You think I can’t protect you?”

“I know you’d do everything you could. But this is big, Dad. You know that better than any of us.”

He was silent a moment.

“Daddy, please talk to Jesse. Tell him everything you know about the Espera Group. Give him your part of the code to the journal.”

“Evie, none of this concerns you.”

“It all concerns me. They’re trying to use us against you because of what you know.”

“And flapping my jaws about what I know will only make things that much worse. I’m trying to protect you girls and your mama.”

“It’s not working.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

She bit back a retort she knew would only hurt her father. “I do, too. Jesse and the Coopers know what we’re up against. I trust them to protect me. And maybe it’s smarter if we’re not all together in one place.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence on the phone line between them. She broke it a moment later by asking, “How’s Mom? How are Rita and Andrew?”

“Rita and Andrew just left for the hotel.”

Rita and her new husband were flying to Spain for their honeymoon the next morning, but they’d made plans to spend the night at a hotel in Birmingham. “You should hire Cooper Security to provide them with protection. Spain isn’t unreachable. And the hotel is probably vulnerable.”

“I’m taking care of it,” her father said flatly. “Your mother wants to talk to you.”

After a brief pause, her mother came on the line, her voice tight with tears. “Baby girl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured her. “Really.”

“I can’t believe all of this is happening.” Her mother’s voice was dark with dismay. “First Edward Ross, then what happened to the Harlowes and now all this—”

“We’re going to figure it all out,” Evie said firmly.

“Here’s your father again.”

Her father came back on the line. “Let me speak to Cooper.”

Evie held out the phone to Jesse. “He wants to speak to you.”

Jesse took the phone, looking unperturbed. “General.” He listened a moment, glancing at Evie. “I can’t do that, sir.” He hung up the phone.

“Did you hang up on him?”

“He ordered me to take you home to him.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Ordered you?”

“He’s worried about you. And probably feeling guilty about the danger you’re in.” Jesse shot her a considering look. “He should feel guilty. I know he’s trying to protect you all, but he’s going about it the wrong way. I wish he’d let us provide protection for your family.”

“He’s never going to do that. It would be like admitting he was wrong about you, and you know how he hates to admit he’s wrong.” As Jesse started to move toward the sofa where she sat, she pushed to her feet, putting distance between them. She felt vulnerable and needy at the moment, and letting Jesse Cooper anywhere near her when she was in that condition was asking for a disaster. “I think I’d like to lie down awhile. You probably have more calls to make, right?”

His dark eyes narrowed as if he were seeing right past her excuses to discern the motives behind them. She crossed her arms in front of her, feeling suddenly naked.

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need me.”

“Will do,” she said over her shoulder as she retreated to the bedroom.

But she wouldn’t call him. Because the last thing she ever intended to do again was need Jesse Cooper.

* * *

T HE SAFE HOUSE was eerily silent, offering no distraction from the maelstrom of images racing through Jesse’s mind. He was a twelve-year veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps, had seen combat on three different continents and had killed more than one enemy soldier during his time in uniform. He’d made peace with what he’d been called upon to do by remembering his sacred duty to protect not only his countrymen at home but his brothers-in-arms fighting in the trenches with him.

So why couldn’t he get the chaotic sounds and images of the recent ambush out of his head?

Because it was Evie Marsh they’d been gunning for.

Jesse rubbed his jaw, his mind fixed on the sight of her pushing open the door of the dead security guard’s SUV and racing through the hail of bullets to reach Jesse’s position. Her blue eyes had been wide and scared, but she’d run without hesitation, trusting him to lay down cover fire to get her safely out of harm’s way.

As vulnerable as she’d looked, barely clad in the ruins of her rust-colored dress with her fancy hairdo falling around her face in a messy cloud, her courage had been a sucker punch right to his gut.

Hearing a door open in the back of the house, his hand went automatically to the pistol holstered at his hip. He relaxed when, a moment later, Evie emerged from the hallway looking soft and sleepy-eyed.

“What time is it?” she asked.

He glanced at his watch. “Around nine forty-five. You slept awhile. You hungry? Not much here except canned stuff, but I could heat up some soup or something.” He’d had soup and crackers for his own dinner.

She shook her head and sat on the sofa beside him, her body radiating warmth. “Any news while I was playing Rip van Winkle?”

“All quiet.”

She pulled her bare feet up to the sofa, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “I suppose it was too much to hope they’d nab those guys trying to leave the state.”

“I doubt they’ve tried to leave the state.”

Evie’s gaze slanted up to meet his. “No, they’re not exactly the type to retreat when their mission doesn’t go right the first time, are they?”

“They’re probably already ticked off about losing the Harlowes last month. Especially without getting the general’s part of the code out of any of them. They need a win.” Jesse tried to study Evie’s appearance without her noticing his scrutiny. She looked tired but the swelling and redness around her eyes and nose had gone down considerably. By morning she’d have few signs of her run-in with the pepper spray.

There was a faint purple bruise on her cheekbone, however, that might look worse the next day. He brushed his fingertips against the blemish before he could stop himself. Her gaze snapped up to his.

“You have a bruise.”

She backed away from his touch. “Must have banged my face on that box when they were pushing me inside.”

“Are you sure that’s all it was?”

“Nobody hit me. Believe me, I’d have told you.” Her lips curved in a wry, humorless grin. “Though I’d take getting socked in the face three times a day over being shot at.”

Something in the tone of her voice made his gut ache. “Did you have a nightmare about it? While you were asleep?”

She looked away. “I don’t remember.”

She did remember. Vividly. He could tell by the look on her face, the tense set of her shoulders and the white-knuckled grip of her clasped hands.

“I used to have combat-related nightmares all the time. Still do sometimes.”

“So they don’t go away?” Despair tinged her voice.

“They usually soften with time. Sharp edges dull, sounds mute.” Blood didn’t run as freely or as crimson-dark after a while.

“I don’t know if Wilson had a family,” she murmured after a moment of tense silence. “I don’t even remember if he wore a wedding ring.”

“You didn’t get him killed, Evie.”

“He wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t been guarding me.”

“He wouldn’t be dead if those men hadn’t shot him. That wasn’t your doing.” He slid his arm across the back of the sofa, letting his fingers brush against the curve of her shoulder. “First rule of engagement—remember who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy.”

“No, the first rule of engagement is to be courteous to everyone but friendly to no one,” she countered.

He smiled. Should have known he wouldn’t get that one past the daughter of a Marine Corps general. “You’d have been a good Marine.”

The wistful look she gave him caught him off guard. “I wanted to be a Marine. Did you know that?”

He shook his head, surprised. “No. Why didn’t you?”

“Mother didn’t want another Marine to have to worry about. And Dad agreed.” She rested her cheek on her knee, still looking up at him. “I could have defied them. Hell, maybe I should have. But I couldn’t put my mother through another twenty years of anxiety, especially so close to my father’s retirement date.”

He tried to imagine Evie in uniform. She was small but physically strong, as he’d experienced when she’d kicked him in the face earlier that day. He’d watched enough of her Cooper Security training sessions to know she was agile and skillful. She had a decent record at the shooting range, and her thinking skills were top-notch.

The only disadvantage she’d have had as a Marine was her size, and she could have made up much of that deficit with her courage and intellect. He wouldn’t mind having her covering his backside in a fight.

“Do you regret not becoming a Marine?”

“Not as much since you hired me. I get to hone my skills at the office training center, and recently, I’ve had plenty of brushes with death to keep me on top of my game.” She shot him another wry smile. “Always something hopping when you Coopers are around.”

“You have no idea,” he said, thinking about all his family had been through over the past few years. “We used to be such a calm, quiet family.”

She shook her head. “I doubt that.”

Jesse’s cell phone rang, giving them both a start. He fished the phone from his pocket. It was his brother Rick.

“Turn on the television,” Rick ordered tersely.

“What channel?”

“Any of ’em.”

Jesse picked up the TV remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. It was already tuned to a news channel.

“That’s my father,” Evie said, her voice tinted by surprise.

A pretty black television reporter out of Birmingham stood in the live shot next to the general, holding the microphone toward him as he spoke.

The general’s tone was grim. “My daughter Rita and my wife are safe, but I’m worried about my younger daughter, Evelyn.”

Evie grimaced at her father’s use of her given name.

“What is he doing?” Jesse asked Rick.

“Just watch.”

“She’s gone missing and I have no idea where she is.” Her father’s voice trembled with despair.

“What is he doing?” Evie echoed Jesse’s words. “He knows where I am. He just talked to me.”

“Technically, he doesn’t,” Jesse murmured, his heart sinking into the pit of his gut. “And this is a way to put the world on notice to keep an eye out for you.”

So much for flying under the radar.

“Why would he put me in danger this way?” Evie asked.

Jesse didn’t like the only answer that made sense, but she had a right to know what they were up against.

“Someone’s gotten to him,” he said.

* * *

E VIE PACED in front of the sofa, her stomach in knots. To her right, the television played on, the volume muted. The news broadcasters had moved on to a new story, but Jesse had left the television on in case there were any new developments.

“Does your father know who’s been hiring the SSU?” he asked.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure,” she admitted. “But I think not. He hasn’t told me much at all, but from what he’s let slip, I think General Ross is the one who knew the most.”

Jesse nodded. “That’s what Emmett Harlowe told us.”

Evie made herself sit down on the coffee table in front of Jesse, folding her hands in her lap. She willed herself to mimic Jesse’s serene confidence, even if she couldn’t feel it. “Even if we were able to talk my father into sharing his part of the code, we still don’t have General Ross’s.”

“Shannon and Gideon have been working with Lydia Ross to figure out who might have his copy of the code.” Jesse’s sister Shannon had spent a week with General Ross’s widow almost two months earlier, helping her archive the general’s possessions in anticipation of Lydia’s move away from the private Gulf Coast island that had been in her family for generations.

Shannon’s discovery of the coded journal had been an accident, although Jesse had admitted afterward that he’d sent his sister to Nightshade Island in hope that she’d discover why the three generals were of such interest to the SSU.

“Have they had any luck?” Evie asked.

“Not yet,” Jesse admitted. “There weren’t many people the general trusted. General Harlowe and your father, of course, and his wife. The only other person who seems a likely prospect is Gideon, but he swears the general didn’t give him any sort of code.”

Evie didn’t know the big, quiet ex-Marine very well, but the Coopers seemed to trust him, mostly because he’d helped Shannon escape a trio of SSU mercenaries determined to use her as leverage to get their hands on General Ross’s journal. Formerly the Nightshade Island caretaker, Gideon had been in need of a job, with skills well-suited to Cooper Security. Plus, Shannon Cooper was clearly nuts about him. It hadn’t taken much coaxing to convince Jesse that Gideon would be an asset to the company.

“And Mrs. Ross doesn’t have any idea who else her husband would have trusted with the code?” she asked.

“She says he became suspicious of almost everyone in the weeks before his death. Maybe he knew someone had gotten wind of his investigations. If anyone can figure it out, Shannon can. She’s like a dog with a bone.”

Evie smiled. “I won’t tell her you used that particular description.”

“Thank you.” His return smile was uncharacteristically warm, charming enough to make her stomach turn a couple of flips.

Jesse leaned close to pick up the television remote control, his shoulder brushing against hers. Her heart jumped, and it took most of her control to keep from reacting to his accidental touch.

“They’re repeating your father’s interview.” He clicked the mute button to turn up the volume again.

“She’s gone missing and I have no idea where she is,” her father was saying to the reporter. “She left with a bodyguard after the wedding and failed to show up for the reception. Now the bodyguard has disappeared.”

“Do you think that’s true?” she asked Jesse. “Do you think those men disposed of Wilson’s body?”

“Maybe,” Jesse answered, his gaze fixed on the television as if trying to read her father’s mind.

“General,” the reporter said, “you’re the second retired military commander to make the news in the last three months. As viewers will remember, General Emmett Harlowe, a retired Air Force general, went missing in late August, along with his wife and daughter. All three were safely recovered but remain under protection, their abduction as yet unsolved. Do you believe your daughter’s disappearance could be connected?”

“I’m hoping my daughter is safe somewhere.” Her father gazed directly into the camera. “Evie, if you’re watching, remember how much your mother and I love you.”

“I still don’t understand what he’s doing here,” she admitted aloud.

“He’s talking directly to you,” Jesse answered. “What’s he telling you?”

She frowned, listening to her father’s words more carefully.

“Do you remember that Christmas in Falls Church, when you rode your bicycle up and down Oak Street? You loved that bike, but you had so much trouble learning to ride. Remember?”

She glanced at Jesse, grimacing. “So I was a little klutzy at age six.”

“But you never gave up,” her father continued. “And I don’t want you to give up now. Trust yourself—you know how to find the answers.”

“That seems really specific,” Jesse murmured.

“It does.” She looked at her father’s serious expression, trying to figure out why something about his demeanor seemed off-kilter. “He’s blinking a lot. Like he’s fighting tears. But his eyes are dry.”

Jesse watched for a second as her father looked into the camera, even as the reporter wrapped up the interview. “You’re right.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a recorder connected to that TV?”

“There is, actually. After your father’s interview aired the first time, I set the DVR to record the rest of this cable network’s news shows for the night. I thought we might want to see it again.”

“Can we replay it? I want to watch it again.”

“Sure.” Jesse bent close again, his shoulder brushing hers once more as he pulled a second remote from the coffee-table drawer. He pushed a few buttons and her father’s interview started replaying.

“See the blinks?” she asked. “It’s odd. They seemed almost—”

“Deliberate,” he finished for her.

“You see it, too?”

He nodded, his lips curving slightly. “The wily old leatherneck.”

“What?’

“He’s blinking in Morse code.”

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