Both men replied with military precision and fervor, and he allowed himself a faint smile. “Good,” he said approvingly. “You will be met upon your arrival, and your contact will provide you with cash, documents and everything else you need to maintain your cover. Cars have been arranged that will be nearly impossible to trace, but do not let yourself be spotted. Changing vehicles often will help, so rotate at least twice a day.”
He flipped open a file, turned it around so it was facing his men, and spread the contents out on the desk in front of them. He pointed to the picture of a handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed man only a few years older than he was. “This is your target. He is always armed, and I have it on good authority he has lightning-fast reflexes, so be wary.”
He paused for questions and got none. “I want daily reports. Your contact will provide you with the cameras, encrypted computer, virtual private network and internet access account you will need to do this.” His eyes narrowed. “Stay in the shadows. Watch him carefully from a distance. Photograph him. But do not kill him. Let me repeat, do not kill him. Not yet. He dies only on my direct command. I say if and when. Understood?”
Affirmation came with the same military promptness. “Good,” he repeated softly. “Very good. I am depending on you. Do not fail me in this. You are dismissed.”
* * *
October slid into November. The days grew colder and shorter, and several times it snowed, although the snow melted after a few days. Now when Mara and whichever bodyguard was on duty left for work the sun was barely up, and when they returned the sun had already set. Trace refused to let Mara ride Suleiman in the dark, so she was restricted to riding him only on the weekends. But Trace rode with her every weekend now, whether or not he was on duty.
And although they did nothing else, they talked. Since that afternoon in his cabin when they’d shared their darkest secrets, it was as if a dam had been breached for both of them. Mara confided in Trace as she had once confided only in her brother. And Trace...Trace did the same—hesitantly at first, but as day followed day and week melted into week, he opened up to her in ways she’d never imagined.
The taciturn man she’d first fallen for was replaced by a man who shared his thoughts, and to a lesser extent his emotions. Not what he was feeling where she was concerned, but other, deep-rooted emotions that played across his handsome features as she watched and listened, enthralled.
“...I was on the bomb squad in Afghanistan—disarming them. A futile effort in a futile war. But someone had to do it. If you’ve ever seen a child maimed or killed by a roadside bomb, you’ll understand why I volunteered for that duty. Why I’m still alive is a mystery—a little bit of skill, I guess, and a hell of a lot of luck. Not everyone was as lucky. But at least the civilians were protected...
“...I’d worked for D’Arcy as a US marshal ever since I got out of the marines. When he was recruited into a new agency and asked me to join him I couldn’t tell him no. I respect him more than any man I’ve ever known. Don’t get me wrong, Walker’s a great boss—he’s brilliant and his instincts are always right on target. But D’Arcy’s in a class by himself, and yeah, there are times I miss working for him...
“...No man likes to admit failure. So when my marriage failed, I refused to admit it for the longest time. I kept thinking if I just tried harder, Janet would realize her suspicions were groundless. I’m no saint, Princess, but I never cheated on her. Never. I can’t help it if women find me attractive, but I took my marriage vows seriously. The bottom line was she just couldn’t bring herself to trust me, and that defeated me...
“...Keira’s special. She was my partner for three years, and we closed some tough cases together. She’s a whiz at research and analysis. Except for D’Arcy, I’ve never known anyone better at solving a puzzle no one else can solve. I was glad for her when she and Walker got married—I really was. But I lost the best partner I’d ever had when she gave up being a field agent and took a research-and-analysis job with the agency, answering directly to D’Arcy—and that still hurts. Not even being Alyssa’s godfather quite makes up for it...
“...I saw Keira lying in a pool of her own blood, Walker beside her, desperately trying to save her life. And I knew in that instant I had never really loved my wife, not the way a man should love the woman he marries. Not the way Cody loves Keira. He would have taken that bullet for her in a heartbeat, the same way I—”
Trace never completed that sentence, but Mara knew what he was thinking. As her bodyguard it was his job to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing his own life. But she wasn’t just a job to him, not anymore. He loved her the way Cody loved Keira, and he would take a bullet for her in a heartbeat. It was in his voice when he called her Princess when they were alone—tender and loving now, not mocking. It was in his eyes when she turned around suddenly and caught him watching her with that deep longing and a hunger she was just beginning to understand. He never let anyone else see, but she knew in her heart no man could look at a woman that way and not love her.