Maggie K. Black - Protective Measures

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Leo shook their hands in turn and exchanged brief introductions. The threat potential of this intel was so high that no one but his own admiral knew of his mission. As far as the gathered guests were concerned Leo was just another delegate. It was a good cover and one that no one would question. Leo was a decorated hero and widower with a picture-perfect family. Not to mention the ability to lock his thoughts and feelings away like a steel trap.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t signed up to take part in the charity auction on Saturday.” Nigel’s voice boomed with a hint of a chuckle that Leo suspected was practiced. “I will be serving as auctioneer and all the money raised will go to an international charity that builds children’s hospitals around the world. I do hope we can count on you.”

“Absolutely,” Leo said. “Put me down for a meal at one of Ottawa’s top restaurants, followed by tickets to the theater.” A quick call to the tourism office should sort that quickly enough.

Nigel seemed satisfied with that and wandered off to the dessert table, leaving Leo alone with the Irish journalist.

“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest something involving your family,” Killian said. “The media are always so eager to get their hands on anything to do with children. Those are your girls, correct?”

Killian gestured to a banner hanging beside the stage. Leo followed his gaze. There alongside banners of the other delegates was a picture of Ivy and Eve, running with him beside the Ottawa River. Blonde and pigtailed, eight-year-old Eve practically bounded off the canvas. But the cautious look in twelve-year-old Ivy’s green eyes mirrored the one Leo could feel seeping into his own.

“Yup, they’re the genuine article,” Leo said. “But I’m afraid the only event they’re taking part in is the parade on Friday.” They’d be on a float beside him, visible but protected. Although if all went according to plan the mission would be over by then and he’d be able to skip the rest of the week’s events. “Enjoy your evening.”

Leo continued across the floor. The curtains billowed slightly. The woman in crimson was still standing on the balcony. She was barely five foot tall, with the lithe build of an athlete and dark, luminous eyes that almost seemed to be looking right at him. Leo felt a hand on his shoulder and realized Killian had followed him.

“Excuse me, Commander,” Killian said. “Apologies for being direct, but I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in.”

“And what situation would that be?”

“Clearly you’re new to the spotlight.” The Irishman’s smile was thin. “But there’s been a lot of media attention on this conference and the delegates. I put out a call on my website for tips and received several requests for stories about you. Some of them raised the issue of your family situation. I’d be happy to share with you what I’ve received and even give you an opportunity to review it for your reaction—”

“I don’t care about rumors, and I don’t read gossip,” Leo cut him off. “Marisa was an incredible mother. She passed away unexpectedly last summer from an invasive, malignant cancer. My daughters miss her terribly. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He turned on his heels and strode off. The sooner this mission was over the better. He wasn’t cut out for the spotlight. While he didn’t know for certain what kind of dirt the man had thought he’d found, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone did the math and realized Ivy had been the result of a teenage pregnancy. Leo had been an emotionally switched off eighteen-year-old, when he’d had a brief relationship with a straight-A student named Marisa, who’d been blinded by a superficial crush on what she imagined might lie beneath his very private shell. The relationship had been a total mistake. Her attraction to him had quickly faded, but not before Ivy was conceived. He’d proposed marriage and joined the navy to support her and the baby. It had been the right decision and one he’d never doubted, even after it had become clear Marisa would never be in love with him. They’d been quietly estranged for years, despite the brief and failed attempt to rekindle a relationship that had resulted in Eve. But the girls had come first. Marisa had been a very protective mother. He wasn’t about to let his past become tabloid fodder now.

Meeting his informant and getting the intel safely was all that mattered.

Leo reached the balcony and slid the door open just in time to see the woman in red hop up onto the balcony railing.

“Stop!” He shut the door quickly behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She turned and looked at him, her stiletto shoes still a hairbreadth away from the ledge. Wind tossed her black hair around her heart-shaped face. A curious smile turned at the corner of her lips. “Don’t worry, Commander. I’m Zoe Dean. It’s only about an eight-foot drop and the lawn is pretty soft, especially after the rain. Please, just go back to the party.”

Everything about this picture was wrong. She said her name like it should mean something to him, but it didn’t, and while he did know someone with the Dean family name, it was the tall, blond linebacker-type who was engaged to Ivy and Eve’s therapist, Theresa. Zoe’s nose wrinkled, like she was listening to someone talking in a hidden earpiece. She raised her wrist to her mouth and spoke into an intricate bracelet that curled against her skin. “One second, bro. I’ve got a situation. It’s Commander Darius. What do I tell him?”

He glanced over his shoulder. The curtains had closed behind him. Who was this woman? He seriously doubted she was his informant. Yet the idea that she wasn’t was even more worrying. If he didn’t return to the event, and get back to mingling, he might miss his opportunity to get the drug-smuggling intel. But if the only other option was letting a strange, armed woman skulk around leaping off of balconies, that wasn’t any better. Guide me, Lord.

“Clearly you know who I am,” he said. He stepped toward her. “Which means you know I’m not about to let you hop off over the balcony. So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get down off that railing and tell me exactly who you are, who you’re talking to and what you’re doing here.”

A gunshot cracked somewhere in the darkness below. Zoe’s head spun toward the sound. A cry escaped her lips, as her feet slipped off the crumbling edge of the balcony.

* * *

Zoe’s hands flailed, grasping at the empty air as she felt her footing give way beneath her. Her body pitched backward. A prayer filled her heart. Then a strong arm slid around her waist, yanking her back onto the balcony. Leo had leaped for her. She clutched at his arm, even as she felt the weight of gravity threatening to pull her from his grasp. A second strong arm went under her knees, as Leo lifted her into his arms and pulled her back against the castle wall, like some kind of knight carrying a damsel to safety. What had just happened? She was a bodyguard, a mixed martial arts specialist and had once been an internationally ranked gymnast. She didn’t need some dashing man in uniform to protect her and rescue her from falling. She never had. Yet, here she was in the commander’s arms, pressed so tightly against his chest she almost couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began. “Put me down.”

His arms held firm. “Not until you tell me who you are, what you’re doing here and why somebody just shot at you.”

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the target,” she said. “Sounded like the shot came from somewhere on the grounds below us.”

They’d better not have shot at her. Ash Private Security thrived on its secrecy. In the dozens of undercover operations she’d been involved with as a private bodyguard, since helping found the company with her stepbrother, Alex, and their friend Josh, her cover had never once been blown.