Dana Marton - My Bodyguard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With many thanks to Allison Lyons, Maggie Scillia and

Monica Reider for all their support and generous help.

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

Quantico, Virginia

FBI agent Brant Law pointed to the screen that showed the dark outline of a man’s profile. “Your target is someone who has managed to elude law enforcement for the last twenty years. He has no known picture. We haven’t been able to narrow his location to as much as a country. We don’t know his first name, or exactly how old he is.”

David Moretti, the team’s gorgeous lawyer, and Nick Tarasov, the commando guy who had seen to the four women’s training at Quantico, flanked him on either side.

Samantha Hanley watched the men with distrust, much like the three other women sitting around her.

In exchange for signing up for a top-secret mission, they were let out of Brighton Federal Correctional Institute. If they succeeded, their sentences would be canceled and their records cleared. She didn’t expect much to come of it—her luck didn’t usually work that way—but she’d been willing to take the risk.

Got her out of that cell, didn’t it?

“So what do you know?” Gina Torno, the excop who’d slipped and killed a man, spoke up.

“We know him as Tsernyakov. But we’re not sure if that’s his real name. He is one of the biggest illegal-weapons dealers in the world. We suspect he might have had some position in the old communist government in the USSR, might have been in the military—his access to large amounts of decommissioned weaponry points that way. He has ‘ears’ in every branch of law enforcement of just about every country. He has unlimited access to money. He is ruthless. If he thinks someone crossed him, he doesn’t wait for proof. He kills on first suspicion.”

“You want us to do what? Take him out?” Gina asked.

The air stuck in Sam’s lungs, the question making her realize what a small-timer, a thief that’s all, she was compared to some of the other women.

But Law said, “Getting a location on him would be enough.”

And she let herself relax a little.

The questions and answers flew back and forth.

“Your cover will be a consulting company that facilitates entrepreneurs in setting up small businesses. Miss Caballo will handle accounting, Miss Jones will do IT, Miss Torno will take care of security, including background checks on employees and Miss Hanley is the support person for the team.”

“I’m the freakin’ secretary? No way.” So what if she’d come from the streets? It didn’t mean the rest were better.

“You’re an undercover agent in a top-secret operation.” Law appeared sincere.

Didn’t sound that horrid when he put it like that. If she didn’t like how things unfolded, she could always take off. They would never find her. She was good at running.

Law showed them another slide, mission statement and other information on their made-up company.

“What else do you want us to do? A start-up consulting outfit isn’t going to attract much attention from the type Tsernyakov would hang with,” Gina challenged him again.

“Correct. Savall, Ltd. is your cover. What you’ll really be involved in is money laundering.”

“Are you asking us to engage in illegal activities?” Anita looked as stunned and morally outraged as a Girl Scout asked to kick puppies. A good actress, that one.

“You need to move in the same circles Tsernyakov’s associates move in. You’re authorized by the FBI and CIA to use any means necessary to get close to the man.”

Sam tugged at the silver rings in her eyebrow.

“This is not gonna come back to bite us, no matter what?” Gina asked.

“Correct.”

“You need us, people with authentic backgrounds instead of existing agents, because if we get lucky enough to catch this guy’s attention he’ll have us checked out and he knows people in the right places.” Gina kept pushing.

“Yes.”

“I’m guessing something like this would be a last-ditch effort. You tried before with your own men and didn’t succeed. Did he have them killed?” Gina shot back again.

“We lost a number of operatives.” Law moved on to the next slide, an explanation on what Savall, Ltd. did and the business in general.

“Miss Caballo was convicted for the embezzlement of nearly four million dollars that was never recovered. Your operations will imply that she had that money safely stashed away, met up with the rest of you in prison and decided to start a company that would grow her nest egg outside the United States.”

Way to go. Sam grinned at Anita, who was looking at Law with a tight-lipped expression.

“So what’s going to keep us from taking off once you cut us loose?”

Gina’s question claimed Sam’s full attention. This she wanted to hear.

“You’ll be under constant surveillance. For your own safety.” Law indicated Tarasov.

Commando-guy was going to babysit? Well, that was his burden. He was good, but he hadn’t seen Sam in action yet. She had evaded drunks and druggies and gangs and cops for too many years on the street to be held down by anyone.

“Any questions about this part?” Law asked.

Anita raised her hand. Raised her hand. Like, where were they, in middle school? She had to be faking all that ladylike respect for authority. Anyone who’d made off with four million couldn’t really be like that. “Has anyone managed to get close to this man and come back alive?”

The FBI agent looked at Moretti and Tarasov before addressing the women. “None so far,” he said.

Sam stared into the sudden silence in the room.

Either this was a chance to start over, or the biggest mistake she’d ever made in her life. And yet she was desperate to give it a try. Because she did want to start over. She was scared to death of always being thought of as a former street kid turned petty criminal. Would society ever let her climb out of that box?

And the most terrifying question of all: what if they did and she wasn’t capable?

Georgetown, Grand Cayman Island, three months later

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Sam Hanley said, standing by her desk in the middle of Savall, Ltd.’s office on Grand Cayman Island with David, Anita, Gina and Carly around her. “I don’t mind going alone.”

Going undercover at a week-long beach party at the closely guarded compound of a known criminal sounded scary, sure, but she was forever falling over her own feet near David Moretti and his mile-wide charisma. If she slipped at Cavanaugh’s, she could mess up everything. It would be better to go alone and be able to focus.

“Let’s keep in mind that David is an attorney and has no training for a situation like this,” Brant Law said over the speaker. “Cavanaugh is the only link to Tsernyakov that we’ve been able to turn up. There is no margin for error.”

He was patched in via phone, along with Nick Tarasov. Now that they were getting close to their target, the men had stepped back and were careful not to show themselves in the company of the four women. No sense arousing any suspicions and risk blowing their cover.

“David’s not the rough-and-tough type,” Nick said. “No offense.”

“None taken. I’m smooth. That’s what I do.” David smiled, clearly at ease with who he was and wasn’t, a trait Sam envied.