A navy SEAL sniper turned bodyguard, he’ll protect his target…at any cost…

The SEAL’s secret assignment had been to protect a certain important doctor. But when the man is murdered, Austin Foley’s mission changes. The navy sniper must now protect the doctor’s protégé, the irresistible Sophia Grant, at any cost. For Sophia has information that could endanger the entire country. There’s only one problem: Sophia has no idea what those secrets are.

With lethal terrorists on their heels, Austin and Sophia must embark on a covert operation. But it will mean placing Sophia even more in harm’s way—a sacrifice not even the steel-hearted SEAL may be able to make.

Red, White and Built

“Thank you. I really don’t know what I would’ve done—or where I’d be now—if you hadn’t appeared.”

He knew where she’d be about now—sitting under some hot light, probably tied up and getting interrogated by some very bad people. He would never allow that to happen to her.

He’d been too late to protect her friend, but not too late to protect Sophia. Now that he’d met the woman with the sad childhood and the hard shell, he’d do anything to keep her safe.

He’d never kept anything from his superiors before, but he just might want to conceal his crazy attraction for Sophia. They didn’t need to know, even though he wouldn’t let his emotions get the better of him.

That had happened only once.

Locked, Loaded and SEALed

Carol Ericson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROL ERICSON is a bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books. She has an eerie fascination for true-crime stories, a love of film noir and a weakness for reality TV, all of which fuel her imagination to create her own tales of murder, mayhem and mystery. To find out more about Carol and her current projects, please visit her website at www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For all the military wives who keep it together

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

A possible target came into view and a bead of sweat rolled down Austin Foley’s face and dripped off his chin. It wasn’t the mission making him sweat, even though technically the SEALs weren’t supposed to be operating in Pakistan; it was the heat rising from his rooftop hideaway, even in the dead of night. The corner of his mouth lifted. He had full confidence in the mission—he always did.

He adjusted his .300 Win Mag slightly to the left, repositioning the target in his crosshairs. The man in his sights had just slipped around the corner of a whitewashed building and stepped around a whirlwind of sand in his path—and his path led to the Jeep parked in front of Dr. Hamid Fazal’s house.

“I have eyes on a suspected target. How’s it looking, Grayson?”

Chip Grayson, his spotter, sucked in a breath. “It’s that guy who just came around the corner, right?”

“That’s our man, and he’s heading for the Jeep and Fazal’s house. Is the doctor out yet?”

“Not yet. Do you see a weapon?”

“Nope, but I don’t see his hands.”

“Movement at the front door. Whaddya got, Foley? Do or die time?”

Austin let out a measured breath, the man in the crosshairs his whole world, the man’s movements determining Austin’s next step and the target’s own fate. The suspect turned his head to the side once. Austin blinked. Another drop of sweat plopped to the gravel on the rooftop.

“Fazal’s at the door, outside, weapons up.”

“The rescue team can’t see our guy yet, which means nobody has a clear shot.”

“Except you.”

“Got that right.”

“Are you gonna take it?”

“Patience, my man. He could be a friend coming to say goodbye to Fazal.”

“Except nobody’s supposed to know he’s leaving, especially not in the company of a navy SEAL team.”

The man hunched forward suddenly and Austin’s finger tightened on the trigger, the action an extension of his brain. The suspect couldn’t have a gun. He wouldn’t be ducking if he wanted to shoot.

The target pulled his hand from a pocket, clutching something dark and pear-shaped. Austin’s jaw tensed as he recognized the object. The man reached for the grenade with his other hand.

Austin took the shot. “Got him.”

The man jerked and fell, the grenade dropping from his hand and rolling away from his body.

Grayson got on the radio to the team now assisting Dr. Fazal into the Jeep. After acknowledging Grayson’s communication, one of the SEALs broke away and approached the dead man on the street.

A movement on top of a building across the way caught Austin’s attention. With his scope, he zeroed in on the sniper raising his rifle and aiming at the SEAL in the street.

Austin took him out...and the fight was on.

Chapter One

Sixteen months later

The soles of Sophia’s sneakers squeaked on the slick cement floor of the parking structure. She hit the key fob and her trunk popped open. As she swung her bag into the car, it fell on its side, scattering the contents across the carpeted trunk.

She huffed out a breath and hunched over to collect her junk—a hastily wrapped leftover sandwich from lunch, a dog-eared paperback...and Dr. Fazal’s files.

“Damn.” She must’ve swept them up by mistake in her rush to leave the office. She checked the time on her cell phone clutched in her hand, and grimaced. She’d planned to leave work a little early so she could get ready for her date tonight, but Dr. Fazal had wanted her to look up something for him and one thing had led to another, which it usually did with Hamid, including a stop at the pharmacy on her way out. Now she had to return these files to him since he was burning the midnight oil and might need them.

She hadn’t disappointed her mentor’s faith in her yet and didn’t plan on starting now. His belief in her these past months had been the highlight of her year—hell, the highlight of her sorry life.

She grabbed the folders, shoved the rest of the stuff back into the canvas bag and slammed the trunk shut. As she turned with the folders pressed to her chest, a car squealed around the corner from the parking level above hers.

She jumped back, coughing on the exhaust the old beater left in its wake. The car had sped past her and was already too far down the aisle for its driver to benefit from a choice hand gesture from her, so she just shook her head.

Grinning, she shoved that hand into the pocket of her sweater. Dr. Fazal had been helping her curb her temper, too. In fact, the doctor had been like the father she’d never had. So, she had no problem going back up to the office to return his files—even if it did make her late for her date.

She hadn’t been having much luck with the guys from that internet dating site anyway, although she had high hopes for Tyler.

The elevator settled on her floor, and she stood to the side as the doors opened in case anyone was coming out, not that she expected people hanging around the office building at this late hour. Dr. Fazal stayed late most nights.

Due to the emptiness of the building, the elevator car sped upward without stopping once. Sophia got off on the fourth floor and almost tripped over Norm’s bucket.

Two doors down from the elevator, Norm looked up from his mop. “Sorry, Sophia. I thought you just left.”

“I left a while ago, but I had to make a stop at the pharmacy downstairs and then got all the way to my car before I realized I forgot something. I’m assuming Dr. Fazal is still here.”

“I just got up to this floor. Heard someone on the stairs a little while ago, and thought it was you. Maybe it was the doc.” He returned to his bucket and dredged the mop in the soapy water. “Make sure you walk where it’s dry.”

“I will.” She jingled her office keys in her hand as she made a wide berth around the wet linoleum.

Maybe Dr. Fazal left early tonight, and since he didn’t call her about the files, he hadn’t missed them. He had seemed distracted all day, for a few days actually, so maybe he’d decided to call it quits.

She strode to the last office on the left, where Dr. Fazal had his orthopedic practice. Leaning into the door, she tried the handle first. He’d locked up since she left.

“Dr. Fazal?” She tapped on the heavy door. Then she inserted her key and pushed it open.

He’d turned off the lights in the reception area, but a glow beyond the front desk area gave her hope. “Hello? I’m back.”

She ducked beside a table where someone had fanned out all the magazines from the rack and stacked them together. Ginny from the front desk usually straightened up the reception area on her way out of the office. Sophia dropped the magazines into different slots on the wall rack and opened the door that led to the offices in the back.

The quiet suddenly unnerved her. Hamid must’ve gone home. She stepped through the door and the toe of her shoe kicked something on the floor. She dropped her gaze and her eyebrows collided over her nose as she nudged the stapler with her foot. Licking her lips, she peered around the corner to the front desk area where Ginny ruled the roost during the day.

Her heart slammed against her chest as she jumped back from the chaos that marred Ginny’s typically orderly work area. Someone had whipped open all the drawers, and the contents of those drawers had spilled over onto the floor. The overhead bins yawned open, discharging their contents in a humble-jumble mess.

The hair on the back of her neck quivered, and she twisted her head over her shoulder, almost giving herself whiplash. Were the thieves still here? If they were looking for drugs, they could’ve targeted a better office.

Swallowing hard, she took one step toward Dr. Fazal’s office and the exam rooms and paused with her head cocked to one side. Silence greeted her. They’d either left already or had heard her come in and were lying in wait, ready to pounce.

Her gaze darted to the front door of the office, which had closed behind her. Her street sense told her the thieves had left the scene of the crime. Her street sense was also sending a shiver up her spine.

She crept down the short hallway, trailing her fingers along the wall. She poked her head into exam room one, her jaw hardening. The intruders had rifled through this room, too...and the next.

She continued her stealthy approach to Dr. Fazal’s office. He’d be devastated by the violence perpetrated against his practice. He’d come here to get away from the violence of his homeland.

Holding her breath, she walked into his office. She released the breath with a sputter. Someone had ransacked the room. Papers were strewn all over, sofa cushions were pulled out and hastily stuffed back in place and the drawers of the credenza behind Dr. Fazal’s big desk stood open and half-empty.

These people must be some stupid junkies to think they were going to find drugs in here—but then weren’t all junkies stupid? A heavy smell in the air made her shudder and close her eyes. Reaching for the phone, she stepped around his desk.

She froze. Then she dropped to her knees beside Dr. Fazal crumpled on the carpet next to his chair.

“Dr. Fazal! Hamid!” She curled her arm under his neck to raise his head and blood soaked the sleeve of her sweater. Blood—her subconscious had recognized the smell. One side of Hamid’s head had been blown away. She choked out a sob and her throat burned.

The smell of gunpowder permeated the air. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? She sat back on her heels and another shock jolted her body—a gun lay next to Dr. Fazal’s hand.

“No, no, no.” She shook her head. He never would’ve taken his own life. Why would he mess up his office first?

She closed her eyes and dragged in a long breath. She didn’t like the police, didn’t trust the police, but right now she needed the police.

* * *

THE BOSTON PD COP, Officer Bailey, scratched his chin with the end of his pencil. “It looks like suicide, ma’am. There’s gunpowder residue on the doctor’s hand, the shot to the temple looks like it was done at close range.”

“And the condition of the office?” Sophia brushed the hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “He ransacked his own office, ran back in here and shot himself because he couldn’t find a pencil? That’s ridiculous. And I already told the detective that his computer’s missing.”

“Had you noticed a change in his demeanor lately? Depressed?”

“He was...” She pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to betray Dr. Fazal, but she didn’t want to withhold any information that might help the investigation into his murder—because this was a murder. “He’d been agitated the past few days, distracted.”

“Was anyone hanging around the office? Disgruntled patients? Problems with the wife?”

“Dr. Fazal was a widower. I already told the detectives.”

“You have my card, Ms. Grant. The detectives on the case will have more questions for you later.” He circled his finger around the reception area where he’d been questioning her. The coroner hadn’t removed Dr. Fazal’s body from the office yet. “We’ll finish up here and barricade it as a crime scene. Are you expecting patients tomorrow?”

“It’s Saturday. No. But I’ll call Ginny Faraday, our receptionist, to let her know what happened. She can start calling our patients.”

The cop tapped his notebook. “That’s the name and number you gave me earlier?”

“That’s right.” She hugged the framed picture she’d taken off the floor next to Dr. Fazal’s body.

Officer Bailey noticed the gesture and pointed to the picture. “What’s that?”

She turned it around to face him. “I-it’s a picture of Dr. Fazal congratulating me on an award I won last year.”

“Was it in his office?”

“On the floor. He must’ve knocked it over when he fell.” She pressed it to her chest again as one tear rolled down her cheek.

“Sorry for your loss, ma’am. You can take that with you.”

Bailey asked her a few more questions, double-checked her contact info and asked her if she wanted an escort to her car.

“I do, thanks.” The cops might think Dr. Fazal had committed suicide, but she knew his killers were on the loose out there somewhere.

Bailey called over another officer on the scene. “Nolan, can you walk Ms. Grant down to her car in the parking structure?”

“Absolutely. Lead the way.”

Sophia took one last look at the office where she’d spent just about the happiest year of her life and sucked in her trembling bottom lip. Dr. Fazal hadn’t killed himself. He wouldn’t have left her like that—not like everyone else had.

When Officer Nolan touched her back, she jumped and then barreled out the office door. A detective was questioning Norm by the elevator.

Sophia stabbed the call button and then turned to Norm. “Did you tell the detective that you heard someone on the stairwell right before I came back, Norm?”

“I sure did, Sophia.”

“They think it was suicide.” She snorted. “No way. You should’ve seen the office.”

“D-do you think that was the doc’s killer on the stairs?” Norm’s eyes bugged out.

The detective questioning Norm raised his eyebrows at Officer Nolan. “I’d like to question the witness in private.”

“Sure, sure.” Nolan’s face turned red up to his hairline and he prodded Sophia into the elevator when the doors opened.

When she got inside, she slumped against the wall, folding her arms over the framed picture. “I just wanted to make sure Norm told the detective about hearing someone on the stairwell. That could’ve been the killer.”

“You’re convinced Dr. Fazal didn’t kill himself?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

To me, the voice inside her head screamed. He wouldn’t do that to me.

She lifted her shoulders and dropped them. “Besides, why would he search his own office like that?”

“Maybe he was looking for something, couldn’t find it and decided to end it all. Did you know he kept a gun in his office?”

“Who said it was his gun? Maybe the killers shot him in the head and planted the gun in his hand.”

“I guess we’ll know more when the homicide detectives look into everything and we get the ballistics report and the autopsy.”

The elevator reached level two of the parking garage and the doors opened on an empty aisle.

Sophia grabbed the officer’s arm. “Wait a minute. When I was returning to the office, a car came careening around the corner, tires screeching and everything. Do you think it might be connected?”

“What kind of car? Did you get a look at the driver?”

“It was an old car, beat-up, midsize and dark. I didn’t see who was driving, but can you tell the detective?”

“I’ll tell him and you can tell him yourself when you talk to him again. This lot is straight in-and-out, right? No attendant?”

“If you’re a visitor, you take a ticket on your way in and pay at a machine before you leave. There should be some record around that time.” She slipped the photo into her purse.

“I’ll pass it on. This your car?”

It was the only car left in the aisle, maybe on the entire level.

“This is it. Thanks.” She hit the key fob, and the officer waited until she got into the car. She waved at him in her rearview mirror as he stepped back into the elevator.

Then she broke down.

Her messy cry lasted a good five minutes. When she got it all out, she bent forward and reached into her glove compartment for some tissues.

As she straightened up, she heard a whisper of movement behind her. Her eyes flew to the rearview mirror and she met the steady gaze of a man in her backseat.

Chapter Two

Austin held his breath. He had to play this right or this emotionally overwrought woman just might go ballistic on him. And he’d deserve it.

He held up both hands. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m a friend of Dr. Fazal’s, and I think I know what happened to him.”

One of her hands was gripping the steering wheel and the other was covering the center where the horn was located. If she drew attention to them, to him, it would be all over.

Her breath came out in short spurts and her gaze never left his in the mirror. “Do you have a gun on me?”

He could tell her he did and she’d probably do whatever he asked, but he didn’t want to frighten her any more than he had—any more than she had been by tonight’s events.

“I don’t have a gun on you. You can lay on that horn and I’ll hightail it out of your car, out of your life, but you may never know what happened to Hamid... And your own life may be in danger.”

Her dark eyes, beautiful even with makeup smudged all around them, narrowed—not exactly the reaction he’d expected.

She blew her nose with the tissue and tossed it on the floor of the car. Turning slightly in the driver’s seat, she asked, “If you know so much, how come you’re not up there right now talking to the Boston PD?”

“For the same reason I didn’t come and knock on your front door or give you a call. I’m trying to keep a low profile—for reasons I may not be able to tell you.”

“Because you killed him?”

“I didn’t kill him, and I won’t harm you.”

“How do I know that?”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” He relaxed in the backseat, his hands on his knees in full view. “You already know I’m no threat to you. You sense it. In fact, you’re a street-savvy woman, aren’t you, Sophia Grant?”

She spun around to face him. “Who the hell are you? How do you know me? Dr. Fazal?”

He splayed his fingers in front of him. “I’m going to reach into my front pocket.”

Nodding, she curled her hands into fists as if ready to take him on.

He slipped his military ID from his pocket and held it in front of her face. “That’s me. I’m US military, and I’m on an assignment.”

She squinted at the laminated card and shifted her eyes to compare his face to the picture on the ID.

He asked, “Can we go somewhere and talk? You might feel more comfortable in a public place.”

“I might feel more comfortable if you sit in the front seat where I can see your hands.”

He held up his hands again, pinching his ID between his fingers. “They’re right here. I’d rather stay in the back for now. I don’t want to be seen in your car in case...”

“In case someone’s watching me, following me?” She started the car’s engine. “Why would someone be interested in me?”

Why wouldn’t they be? Austin dragged his gaze from her luscious lips and met her eyes. “Because you worked with Dr. Fazal.”

“It wasn’t suicide. He didn’t kill himself.” Her chin jutted forward as if daring him to disagree with her.

“He may have killed himself, but only because he had no choice. The men after him would’ve killed him anyway—and probably after hours or days of torture.”

She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand.

A twinge of guilt needled his belly. He’d gone too far. Just because she hadn’t screamed and hit the horn or fainted didn’t mean she had a hard shell impervious to pain.

“I’m sorry, and you’re right. Dr. Fazal was not suicidal, but I would like a better idea of what was going on with him. Can you help me out?”

“I knew it.” She smacked the steering wheel. “Those idiots were trying to tell me he killed himself when the office had obviously been searched.”

“Searched?” His pulse sped up. “Was anything taken?”

“Just his computer as far as I could tell. The cops had me look around, but I was too rattled to see straight.” She put the car in Reverse and backed out of the space. “I know a place in Cambridge, not too far from here—dark, not too crowded, but crowded enough so that we won’t be noticed.”

“Sounds good.” He ducked down and lay across the backseat. “I’m going to stay down. I want you to check your mirrors when you drive out of the parking structure to make sure you’re not being followed. Keep an eye out. Slow down and let cars pass you, take a few turns if you think someone’s tailing you.”

“You’re not making me feel any better.”

“You’ll be safe—with me.” The same couldn’t be said for Dr. Fazal, and Austin felt the failure of showing up too late to protect him gnaw at his gut.

The tires squealed and the car bounced as she pulled out of the parking structure. Austin’s forehead hit the back of the driver’s seat. “Did you see someone?”

“All clear so far. Why?”

“You stepped on that gas like you had the devil himself on your tail.”

“To get out of that parking structure, you gotta move or you’ll be waiting there all night.”

Apparently, every intersection she blew through had the same problem as the car sped up, lurched around corners and jerked to a stop every once in a while. If Fazal’s killers didn’t end him, Sophia’s driving would.

“No headlights behind you?”

“Not for any length of time. Don’t worry. I got this. I’m no stranger to losing a tail.”

“Should that concern me?”

“It should make you happy. We’re almost there.”

Rubbing his forehead, Austin sat up and peered out the window. They’d already crossed Longfellow Bridge and were speeding into Cambridge.

A few minutes later, the car crawled along a street lined with bars and restaurants as Sophia searched for a parking space.

He tapped on the window. “There’s a public lot with space.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not paying twenty-four bucks to park my car.”

“I’ll spring for the parking. We could be driving around here all night looking for a place.”

“Your call, but it’s a rip-off.” She made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street and swung into the lot, buzzing down her window.

He pulled a crumpled twenty and a five from his pocket and handed them to her.

The attendant met the car. “That’s twenty-four dollars, please.”

She gave him the money, and then pinched the one dollar bill he gave her between two fingers and held it over her shoulder. “Here you go.”

When they got out of the car, Sophia crossed her arms, gripping her biceps and hunching her shoulders.

“You don’t have a jacket? It’s cold out here for just a long-sleeved shirt.”

“I had a sweater.” She slammed the car door and locked it. “It has Dr. Fazal’s blood all over it.”

“I’m sorry. Take my jacket.” He shrugged out of his blue peacoat and draped it over her shoulders, his hands lingering for a few seconds.

She hugged the coat around her body and sniffed. “Thanks.”

They joined the Friday night crowd on the sidewalk—students, professors, young professionals, a few tourists. They could fit in with this bunch, even though Sophia still wore a dazed expression on her pale face.

She led him to one of the many bars, crowded but not jammed, a duo at one end singing a folk song.

“We can probably still get a booth, but we’ll have to order some bar food.”

“That’s okay.” He tipped his chin toward a booth in the back of the long room that three people had just left. “There’s one.”

He followed her as she wended her way through the tables scattered along the perimeter of the bar. Her black hair gleamed under the low lights, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and smooth his fingers along the silky strands. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

A waitress swooped in just as they reached the table. “I’ll clear this up for you.”

When the waitress finished clearing the glasses from the previous customers, Sophia slid onto the bench seat and he sat down across from her.

Hunching forward, she buried her chin in her hand and the small diamond on the side of her nose sparkled. “Tell me who you are and what the hell is going on.”

“My name’s Austin Foley, and I’m in the US Navy.”

She blinked her lashes, still long and dark even though her mascara had run down her face. “How do you know Dr. Fazal?”

He massaged his temple. How could he explain things to her without compromising classified information?

Of course, the rescue of Dr. Fazal was no longer classified, and if anyone had a right to know about Dr. Fazal’s past, Sophia did. Maybe she already knew. All their intel on Fazal and Sophia indicated that the two had grown close.

“What did Fazal tell you about his past before coming to the US?”

Sophia bit her bottom lip as the waitress approached the table. “Now, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have a beer—whatever you have on tap.”

“Club soda with lime for me.”

The waitress left, and Sophia leaned toward him over the table. “I only know that his wife and two daughters died in a terrorist bombing in Islamabad. The US government resettled him here for safety, but then you know that already. You claim to know more than I do, so you’d better start spilling or I’m calling my new best friends at the Boston PD.”

Austin squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d thought handling Sophia Grant would be easy, he’d been completely mistaken. She’d probably catch him out in a lie in about two seconds, too. Were there any girls back home like this? If so, he’d never run into one, and given the size of White Bluff, Wyoming, he’d run into all of the women.

“Okay.” He ran a hand across the top of his head, his hair still short from active duty. “Dr. Fazal helped out the US military, helped us nail a wanted terrorist hiding in the area. His life wasn’t worth much in Islamabad after that, so we hustled him out of Pakistan.”

She nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I figured there was more to his story.”

Nothing seemed to surprise this surprising woman. “We settled him in Boston. You know he went to medical school here?”

“Yes.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Were you one of the guys who helped rescue him?”

“Uh-huh.”

The waitress delivered their drinks and Austin held his up. “To Dr. Fazal.”

Sophia clinked her glass with his. “To Dr. Fazal.”

She took a sip of her drink and laced her fingers around the glass mug. “What were you doing here at the precise moment he got murdered?”

Austin ground his back teeth together and took a bigger swig of beer than he’d intended. He gulped it down. “He’d contacted us a few weeks back, said he was being watched, followed.”

“So that’s why he’d been agitated.”

“Was he?”

“For the past several days—distracted, even curt with me, which was unusual.”

“After his initial contact, we didn’t hear from him again. I guess he thought we could help him, but I was too late.” His hand curled into a fist on the table.

“D-do you think that’s it? The people he betrayed in Pakistan wanted revenge?”

“That’s what it looks like on the surface, but it’s hard for me to swallow that they’d go to all this trouble to get to him. The main guy he betrayed is dead. Were his followers that loyal to track Fazal to the US and murder him here? That’s taking a huge chance on their part, and how did they even get into the country if they’re on a no-fly list?”

“You’re asking me? I’m just a physical therapist in training. You’re the—” she waved her hand at him “—navy guy. What is a US military man doing operating on domestic soil, anyway?”

“This is strictly under the radar.”

“That’s the reason for all the cloak-and-dagger stuff? You’re lucky I didn’t scream bloody murder and run back to tell the cops a man had broken into my car and had been lying in wait for me.”

“Some of it’s luck.”

“Some?” She raised her dark brows as she took a drink from her glass.

He shrugged. “We had a little intel on you. I didn’t figure you for the screaming type.”

“That’s creepy.” She swallowed. “The government can just spy on anyone these days. Is that it?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying.”

“I would.” She flipped her black hair over one shoulder. “So, what do you want from me? I can’t give you any more information about Dr. Fazal than I gave the police.”

“The Boston PD thinks he may have committed suicide. Now I just gave you this other info about Dr. Fazal. Does this change your view of what was going on with him?”

“He never said anything to me about it, but his killers were definitely searching for something in the office.”

“That worries me, makes me think this is about more than revenge.”

“What could they have been looking for? Dr. Fazal already gave up what he knew about the terrorist in Islamabad, right?”

“Maybe he had more information that he didn’t even tell us.” He grabbed a plastic menu from the end of the table. “Are you hungry? The waitress didn’t make us order anything, but you probably haven’t had dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “My date.”

“You had a date tonight?” Of course she did. An attractive, vibrant woman like Sophia Grant wouldn’t be sitting at home alone on Friday night.

“I did. I was supposed to meet him downtown.”

“Give him a call. Is there still time?”

“I don’t have his phone number, and he doesn’t have mine, thank goodness, or he would’ve been calling me.”

“That’s a weird date.” He drew his brows together. At least this guy wasn’t her fiancé or the love of her life if they didn’t even have each other’s phone numbers.

“It was a date on Spark.”

“Spark?”

“Where’ve you been, Islamabad?” She tapped her cell phone. “It’s a dating app.”

“Is that safe?”

“Safer than this.” She drew a circle in the air above their table.

“Got me there.” He shoved the menu aside and finished his beer. “You’ll let me know if anything unusual happens, won’t you?”

“Yes, but shouldn’t I tell the police, too?”

“Of course, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention our meeting. I’m not supposed to be here, not supposed to be investigating this.”

“My lips are sealed.” She dragged her fingertip across the seam of her mouth. “Where should I drop you off?”

“I’m at a hotel downtown, but since you’re in the other direction I can catch the T back to the hotel—unless you want to head downtown to meet your Spark date.”

“You know where I live?” She pushed her half-full glass away from her. “Forget the date. It was just our second. He probably figured I got cold feet.”

“Does that happen a lot? I mean, with Spark dates.”

“Quite common.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet.

“I’ll get this. I can call it a business meeting.”

“Ah, but you’re not supposed to be here, remember?”

“Somebody somewhere has to reimburse me.” He dropped a ten on the table. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I really don’t mind dropping you off.” She scooted from the booth, hugging his coat to her chest.

“That’s okay, as long as you keep a lookout when you drive home, just like you did on the way over here.”

She jerked her head up. “Do you think I might still be in danger?”

“Not if Dr. Fazal’s killers found what they were looking for tonight.”

“And if they didn’t?”

“They might be at his house right now. Hopefully, the police got there first, but Fazal’s killers will return. They might return to the office, too, if they got spooked the first time.”

“They might’ve heard Norm—he’s the nighttime janitor.”

“Are you going back to the office next week?” He held the door of the bar open for her as she huddled inside his coat.

“Just to wrap up business. All of my patients were Dr. Fazal’s patients. We worked together and he referred his patients to me after their surgery, so I could rehabilitate them. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen to Ginny our receptionist and the two nurses who worked with him.” A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and she dashed it away.

“You’re going to miss him. He was a good man.”

“The best.”

Austin tipped his head toward the parking lot down the street. “I’ll walk you to your car, and you can drop me at the nearest T station.”

The attendant manning the parking lot had called it quits for the night and the entrance was chained off. The exit had spikes to make sure nobody sneaked in that way.

Austin put his hand on Sophia’s back as they made their way through the cars.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed movement and his reflexes jumped into action. He spun around just in time to see the dull glint of a .45 in the moonlight.

Chapter Three

The mysterious stranger walking beside her shoved her to the ground. She thrust out her hands as she fell to her knees, her palms shredding against the asphalt.

Her instincts had failed her. The guy was turning on her, attacking her. She coiled her body into a crouch. She whipped her head to the side, ready to launch herself at his legs—but which legs were his?

Austin had one arm wrapped around another man as they staggered back and forth under a circle of light from the parking lot. Austin had his right arm thrust in the air at a weird angle, grasping the other man’s wrist.

Sophia froze as her gaze focused on the gun clutched in the man’s hand, pointing at the sky. How long would it be pointing upward?

As she scrambled toward the other side of the car, someone grunted. Gunfire ripped above her head. She flattened her body against the asphalt, the smell of oil invading her nose. The smell of gunpowder replaced it.

“Hey, hey!”

The male voice came from a distance but Sophia didn’t dare lift her head.

A rough hand grabbed her arm, and Austin’s harsh whisper grated close to her ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. What...?”

He practically yanked her to her feet. “Let’s go. Now.”

“But...”

He snatched the keys still clutched in her hand and herded her into the car from the driver’s side, coming in right behind her. She crawled over the console as Austin made it clear he was taking the wheel. He started the car, and she turned her head toward the passenger window.

A dark figure limped away between the remaining cars as a cop came running up the sidewalk, shining his flashlight into the parking lot.

Without turning on the headlights to the car, Austin pulled out of the lot on the other side of the officer’s probing flashlight. When he hit the street, he kept his speed slow and steady until he turned the corner. Then he accelerated until he reached the next major thoroughfare when he put on the lights and reduced his speed to the limit.

That’s when Sophia realized she was breathing in short spurts. The whole attack had gone down in a manner of seconds and she still couldn’t quite believe it had happened—except for her stinging palms...and the gun in the cup holder.

She rubbed her hands together, loosening bits of gravel into her lap. “What the hell just happened?”

“Are you absolutely sure you weren’t followed when you left the medical building?”

If she hadn’t fully absorbed the terror of the altercation in the parking lot before, it now hit her like a wall of water.

She gripped the edge of the seat, digging her fingernails into the nubbed fabric. “D-do you think that man had something to do with Dr. Fazal’s murder?”

“Of course. Could you have been followed?”

“I don’t think so.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I watched, just like you said.”

He made a sharp right turn and her head bumped the glass of the window.

“Sorry.” He pulled the car to a stop along a side street near the MIT campus and jumped out.

With her head spinning, she tumbled out of the car after him. He was already on the ground, scooting backward beneath the car, propelling himself with the heels of his boots—cowboy boots. What kind of navy guy wore cowboy boots?

“What are you doing?” She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging Austin’s jacket around her body, noticing for the first time the fresh, masculine scent in its folds.

He swore and rolled out from beneath the car, clutching something in his fist. Hopping to his feet, he uncurled his hand. “They were tracking you already.”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the black quarter-size device cupped in his palm. “Why? What do they want from me?”

“I don’t know.” He tipped his hand and the object fell to the pavement, where he crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. “I don’t know what they wanted from Fazal. If it was just revenge they were after, they got that. They didn’t have to search his office. And why come after you?”

“Come after?” She fell against the back door of the car.

“I’m sorry, Sophia. Let’s get you home.”

“Home?” She shuffled away from him. “If they already put a tracker on my car, won’t they know where I live?”

“Not if they placed the bug at the office.” He kicked the pieces of the tracking device with his toe, scattering them into the gutter.

“Was that man in the parking lot going to shoot me?”

“I don’t think so.” He cocked his head to one side and scuffed the bristle on his chin with the pad of his thumb. “He could’ve taken the shot from farther away. When I saw the gun out of the corner of my eye, the guy didn’t have it raised and ready to shoot.”

“I suppose that’s something to be thankful for.”

“He could’ve wanted info from you.”

“But he wasn’t expecting you—or at least wasn’t expecting my date to be a trained...whatever you are.” She waved her hand up and down his body.

“SEAL.” He rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “I’m a navy SEAL.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a long way from foreign soil where you usually do your thing, aren’t you?”

“I thought I explained to you that’s why I can’t come in contact with the police. It’s—” he shrugged “—unorthodox for us to operate stateside.”

“Unorthodox or illegal?”

“Depends on who you’re asking.”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “And that’s why we sneaked away under the cover of darkness and extinguished our headlights back there when the cop showed up?”

“I don’t want to have to explain anything. That’s not my mission.”

“This is a mission?”

“Did you think I was just dropping in on my old friend Dr. Fazal?”

Her nose stung with tears and she squeezed her eyes shut. “He was my friend...and so much more.”

He dropped his hand where it lay like a weight on her shoulder. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“Will I be safe there?”

“I’m staying with you—for now.”

She studied his strong, handsome face, and the question echoed in her head. Will I be safe there?

He blinked. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

Sighing, she hoisted herself off the car. “I suppose I don’t have much choice. I have to go home at some point, might as well be now.”

When they got back into the car, Austin turned to her. “You can call the Boston PD right now and let them know you feel threatened—that you think you’re being followed. They might step up patrols around your house.”

She chewed her bottom lip and traced the scratches on her palm. Have this navy SEAL, who’d already taken out a guy with a gun, watching over her or the Boston PD, who’d made her life a living hell when she was a teen—easy choice.

“Let’s see how it goes before I call in the big guns.”

Austin started the car. “Where to? I know you live in Jamaica Plain, but I don’t know how to get there without a GPS.”

“Back across the bridge. I’ll be the GPS.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Should I look out for a tail?”

“I think I solved the problem, but it’s not a bad idea.”

She called out directions as she shifted her attention between the side mirror and the mirror on the visor, watching for headlights and suspicious cars.

Her life growing up had hardly been rainbows and unicorns, but it had just shifted into a strange kind of nightmare that didn’t quite seem real. And the man next to her? The most unreal part of it all. He’d literally popped up in the backseat of her car, spouting crazy theories and scaring the spit out of her.

She slid a gaze at his profile. Pretty much everything that had happened tonight, except for Dr. Fazal’s murder, had originated with this man.

Yes, she’d seen the stranger with the gun, but had never seen that gun pointed at her. Maybe he was a cop trying to rescue her from Austin. Of course, he had run away, too.

The tracking device on her car? That could’ve been anything. What did she know about tracking devices?

If Austin had never appeared in her rearview mirror, would she be home snug in her bed, oblivious of gun-wielding assailants and bugged cars? She scooted closer to the door and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window.

With or without Austin, she still couldn’t escape the reality of Dr. Fazal’s death. He’d seen so much in his life but had gotten to a place where he could appreciate the simple pleasures...and he’d been teaching her to do the same.

A sob escaped her lips and fogged the glass of the window.

Austin touched her knee. “Are you thinking about Dr. Fazal? He was a good man—honorable, courageous. We were both lucky to have known him.”

The sincere tone of Austin’s voice washed over her like a soothing balm, and a tear welled up in one eye. Only Dr. Fazal had been able to make her cry. Now if she let herself go, she’d never stop—and she already knew tears did nothing but signal your weakness to the world.

She clenched her teeth and dragged in a breath through her nose. Rubbing the condensation from the window with her fist, she said, “He was a great guy...and I’m going to have to find another job.”

She could feel Austin’s gaze boring into her, and then he removed his hand from her knee.

She tossed back her hair. Let him think she was a cold bitch. She’d opened herself to Dr. Fazal and he’d left her...just like everyone else had. Not that it was his fault. He never would’ve abandoned her.

“Next?”

“What?”

“Right or left?”

She jerked her head up. She hadn’t even been checking the mirrors. She bolted up and grabbed the visor.

“It’s okay. I’ve been watching.”

“Left.”

She trapped her cold hands between her knees and took a deep breath. “Why are you here? You were responsible for getting Dr. Fazal out of Pakistan and, what? You kept tabs on him?”

“Me personally? No.” He cranked up the heat in the car. “US intelligence? Yes.”

“CIA?”

“Sort of. There are intelligence organizations under the umbrella of the CIA that are deep undercover.”

“You work for one of these organizations?”

“I’m a United States Navy SEAL.”

“But one of these organizations contacted you, right?”

He nodded once.

She hunched forward, stretching her fingers out toward the warm air seeping from the vent. “Are you revealing too much? You’re not going to have to kill me now, are you?”

He raised one eyebrow without cracking a smile at her clichéd joke. “You’re in the middle of this. You deserve to know.”

“Am I? In the middle of this?”

“Fazal’s killers put a tracking device on your car and tried to pull a gun on you. What do you think?”

The warm air blowing from the vent couldn’t melt the chill stealing across her body. She snuggled into Austin’s jacket and the comforting scent from its folds. “I think I’m in the middle of it. These intelligence agencies must’ve known Dr. Fazal was in danger since you showed up at the precise time he was murdered.”

Austin’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I failed him.”

“Had you been watching him?”

“I just got to Boston this morning. I read the file on the plane. I read about you, your job, your car, even your address.”

Checking the mirrors again, she slumped in her seat. “So much for privacy.”

Her paranoia about authority hadn’t been misplaced all those years. They really were out to get her. Did Austin also know about her messed-up past?

He snorted. “There is no privacy.”

“You knew all that, but you hadn’t seen Dr. Fazal yet?”

“I showed up at the office building minutes after the first responders did. Then I located your car in the parking structure and waited for you.”

“You were supposed to protect Dr. Fazal?”

“I was.” His jaw formed a hard line.

“Those intelligence organizations don’t sound very intelligent. They should’ve called you in sooner. You could’ve done something then.”

She didn’t know why she wanted to make this supremely confident man feel better. Maybe it was the clenched jaw showing that he was human after all. He clearly felt as if he’d failed Dr. Fazal—and she knew all too well what failure felt like.

“Maybe. Or maybe his killers made their move today because they knew we were on to them.”

“Who are they? Who killed Dr. Fazal?” She tapped on the window. “Turn right.”

“It depends on the motive. If it was revenge for working with us to capture the terrorist we’d been tracking, then we know it’s that terrorist group, but if it’s something else...” He shrugged.

“What else could it be?”

“You tell me. Why’d his killers search his office? Why’d they come after you?”

She turned to him, her mouth gaping open. “You expect me to know that?”

“You worked with him. You were close to him. He treated you like a daughter. We know that.”

Her throat felt heavy and she cleared it. “He told me very little about his life before. He always emphasized looking forward.”

“You said you noticed something different about him in the past few weeks. Was he nervous? Jumpy?”

“Yes.” They’d had a dinner planned and he’d cancelled it. He never canceled plans with her because he knew how much stability meant to her.

“How so?”

“He was secretive. He took a few phone calls behind closed doors. He also saw some mysterious patient. He gave me his file, but he never included the person’s information in the regular patient database.”

“Is this your street?”

“The apartment building at the end of the block on the right.”

“That behavior was unusual for him?”

“It was in retrospect. If he hadn’t been murdered today, I probably wouldn’t have thought much about it—except for the dinner.”

“What dinner?” He pulled the car alongside the curb in front of her apartment building and left the engine running.

Did he expect her to hop out and go up to her apartment by herself while he left her car at the curb and loped off into the night? Hadn’t he assured her he’d keep watch tonight? Of course, he owed her nothing.

She coughed into the sleeve of his jacket. “We had dinner at least once a month, and he canceled this month.”

“He never canceled before?”

“Never. I mean, I did once or twice, but once Dr. Fazal made plans he kept them.”

“If they’d just killed him, that would’ve been the end of it. But why the search?”

This time she knew it was a rhetorical question, as Austin stared out the window at nothing.

He reached for the ignition. “Should I park here or do you have a parking spot?”

She released a breath. He wasn’t ditching her—yet. “If you go up ten feet, there’s an entrance to our underground parking garage. I’ll direct you to my spot.”

They rolled into the garage and she pointed out her parking space, which she’d left what seemed like a lifetime ago but had only been that morning.

“I’ll go up with you just to make sure everything’s okay, and then I can check your security and monitor the front of your building and watch the elevators.”

“A-all night?”

“Whatever it takes.”

He said those three words with such conviction, she had a feeling Austin would always do whatever it took.

“Thanks.” Was that enough? What did you say to someone who’d just saved your life? She hadn’t even thanked him for that. “A-and thanks for saving me from the man with the gun back in Cambridge.”

“Of course.”

She slipped out of the car and he was beside her in a second. When they got into the elevator, she pushed the button for her floor. “I’m on the third floor.”

As they passed the second floor, Austin pulled a gun from his waistband and crowded her to the back of the car. He raised his weapon and the door opened—on her empty floor.

She huffed out a breath, feeling dizzy with relief. “My place is on the left, smack in the middle of the floor.”

She held out her hand for her key chain but he shook his head.

When they reached her door, he tucked her behind his body and dangled the keys from one finger. “Which one?”

She tapped her front door key and he inserted it into the deadbolt lock above the door handle and unlocked it. Then he opened the door, and stepped inside, leading with his gun.

“Wait outside the door for a minute.”

She held her breath as he stepped inside, continuing to lead with his gun.

He disappeared inside and her heart skipped a beat. “Everything look okay?”

“Just a minute.”

His voice sounded muffled, and a picture flashed in her head of Austin going through her closet and personal effects. Gripping the doorjamb, she leaned into her small living room. “Nothing looks out of place in the living room.”

Austin emerged from the hallway, his gun still out but dangling at his side. “I wanted to make sure no one was hiding in the back.”

“First time I’ve ever felt good about my small apartment.”

“Nothing’s out of place?” His eyes flicked over the sparse room, devoid of personal photos and treasured mementos.

She pulled back her shoulders and marched to the console that housed her TV and a few books and placed the cracked photo of her and Dr. Fazal, which had been stashed in her purse since she’d left the office, on a shelf.

“Everything looks fine in here. Nobody under the bed?”

“Or in the closets or hiding in the tub behind the shower curtain, but only you can determine if anything’s messed up.”

Again that quick glance around her sterile living room. Could she help it if she traveled light? She’d always had to pick up and go at the drop of a hat, so she kept her possessions at a minimum.

“I’ll check the bedroom and bathroom—good thing there’s only one of each.”

Austin trailed her as she took a few steps down the short hallway and turned into her bathroom. A small row of bottles stood at attention on the right-hand side of the vanity, her electric toothbrush claiming the left. She tugged open the mirrored medicine chest that contained toiletries, no medicine. She didn’t believe in drugs.

When she closed the cabinet, she met Austin’s green eyes in the mirror. How had she missed those eyes before? Probably because this was the first time she’d seen him in full light. Even the bar in Cambridge had been dark.

“All good.”

She pointed to the shower curtain dotted with blue seahorses. “You moved that, right?”

“I swept it aside and back again.”

“Next room.”

She kept her distance as Austin awkwardly backed out of the bathroom. His presence overwhelmed the small space—overwhelmed her.

He stood aside, flattened against the wall as she brushed past him on her way to the bedroom.

She walked into her room and surveyed the matching bed, nightstand and dresser, and a little smile curled her lips. She’d just bought the matching set two months ago—her very first matching furniture, her very first new furniture.

She passed by the bed and ran her fingertips along the green-patterned bedspread. Then she tripped to a stop as a wave of adrenaline washed through her body and a strangled cry twisted in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Austin placed his hand on the small of her back.

She turned toward him and had the strongest desire to throw herself against his solid chest. Instead she dragged in a long breath and whispered, “Someone was here.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.