Just One Night (Sex, Love & Stiletto 3)

Chase stretched out his long legs across the interior of the limo. “Some of our jobs come from government agencies that need off-the-record help. But as I said, some come from private citizens. I’ve known General Wunder a long time.”

Which couldn’t be that long, considering the guy was in his late twenties, like Risk, maybe early thirties at the most. “Does this involve military matters, then?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about sticking his nose in anything military. To be fair, his team had taken on the covert mission knowing full well that if they failed, the government would deny any knowledge of their infiltration; elected officials certainly would not admit to sending in a SEAL team to assassinate the leader of an organization aiming to shut down the violent cartels in Mexico. Nevertheless, anything military still left a bitter taste in Risk’s mouth.

“Not at all. The general’s retired. This is a private security detail assignment.”

“So I’m guarding some retired military brass. Is he going overseas, consulting in Afghanistan or something?” His blood heated at the prospect of danger. Lurking assassins. Clearing vehicles of explosives, maybe even detonating one. His mouth actually watered. Damn, he’d been out of the action for way too long.

“You’re guarding his daughter here in Virginia. He thinks her safety is being threatened.”

Risk stared at Chase for several seconds. “I’m a babysitter?” he pushed out at last, trying not to sound too indignant. “You do recall my years of experience with weapons, interrogation? Running into buildings on moonlit nights, knowing there could be fighters waiting with guns? Tracking down tangos in the frigid desert? You don’t need to ease me in, if that’s why you’re giving me this gig.”

Chase slid him a sly smile. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

Risk held back the hmph that wanted to escape. How hard could guarding a woman be? Unless she was a diplomat in a volatile foreign country, but Chase had said it was domestic. “What does this assignment have to do with the ‘justice for all, no matter the cost’ credo?”

“You’ll see.”

Color me skeptical.

The last time he trusted his commander, the mission screwed up his life. But Risk held his tongue and mustered as much trust as he could. He wanted this job to work out. After all, it wasn’t like Chase was asking him to assassinate someone.

The limo left the private airfield that Chase’s jet had flown him into. Risk had spent some time with his brother and his family in Pekin, Illinois, while awaiting his first assignment.

Some time later, they entered an exclusive neighborhood with massive brick homes set on large parcels of land. The limo pulled down a curved drive to a house with columns that reminded Risk of a government building, all square and landscaped with military precision. Risk hailed from an Illinois farming community where he’d worked until his muscles burned and his skin was leathery from the sun. This kind of money was a foreign concept.

Risk followed Chase up the steps, and a few seconds after chimes echoed inside the house, a man opened the door. The expression on his hard, square face transformed to relief when he took in Chase.

“Good to see you, son.” He pumped Chase’s hand, then pulled him in for one of those guy hugs. Chase didn’t buckle under the ham-sized hand slapping his back so hard that Risk expected him to cough up something.

“Glad we can help.” Chase gestured for Risk to step up beside him and introduced the two men.

Risk knew the general was sizing him up as he crushed his hand in what was more like an arm-wrestling hold than a handshake. “Pleasure,” Risk gritted out, gripping the man’s hand just as hard.

The general gave him an approving nod and gestured for them to follow him. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Chase said, “I briefed him on the job but figured we would cover the specifics here.”

Briefed. Yeah, like a sentence.

The general nodded for them to take the two leather seats in front of his desk, sinking down in his chair on the other side. “Someone tried to run down my daughter, Adeline, a week ago.” He slid a folder across the desk. “Here’s the police report. There was no proof that it was intentional. It could have been a drunk driver. Altho

ugh that’s what Adeline wants to think, even she admits she’s made some enemies.” He interlaced his fingers so tightly that they turned red. “I’ve included the detective’s contact information in the paperwork. He hasn’t turned up anything yet. And while he’s a friend, he can only spend so much time on a dead-end investigation.

“In the meantime, whoever tried will no doubt try again. I insisted she move in here for a while, but with her comes a menagerie of animals she’s rehabilitating, and they’re driving me crazy. She’s just as unhappy being here, so you’re our compromise.” That he directed to Risk. “I need someone who can not only protect her but keep her out of trouble. No protests, no investigations. She needs to sit tight and safe until we know who wants her dead or we can be sure that it was indeed an accident.”

Risk’s gaze went to the bookshelf behind the general and a collection of framed pictures of a blond girl at various ages. On a pony at maybe her sixth birthday party. Riding a horse at an equestrian event as a teen. Probably spoiled rotten. Great. Frickin’ great. And Risk was a compromise, which meant she was going to be as cooperative as any tango—terrorist—he’d tried to wheedle information out of.

“Who’d she piss off?” Risk asked, then added, “Sir.”

“There are several possibilities.”

Risk nearly choked. “Several? How can one woman make that many people angry enough to potentially try killing her? Is she a liberal? Does she use racial slurs? Was she caught trying to drown puppies?”

The general sat back in his chair with a long-suffering sigh. “She’s an animal hugger. You know, like a tree hugger. It started when she was a kid, saving baby birds that had fallen out of nests, finding homes for stray kittens. I figured her desire to help came from watching her mother work with her various charities. After her mother died—when Addie was twelve—that desire turned into a drive. First she kidnapped a neglected horse from a farm. Then she stole hound pups that she thought were being abused and found them homes. She went looking for animals to save as though her life depended on it.”

“Maybe she was trying to fill that empty hole you feel when your parent dies young,” Risk found himself saying.

“I thought so, too. But I overheard her talking to her mother up in heaven, telling her about the puppies she’d saved and how she hoped that would make it up to her. When I asked her what she meant, she wouldn’t say.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t always consider the law—or common sense—when she’s got an abused or neglected animal in her sights.” He handed a folder to Risk. “The lead suspect is a guy who runs one of these traveling zoos. She’s been launching protests against him for the last few weeks, and he made some threats. Nothing so obvious as ‘I’m going to run you down.’ More like ‘You crazy animal people need to be hog-tied and trampled by the elephants you’re trying to save!’ He even filed a restraining order.”