Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Roman had a death grip on his glass of water as he sat in the narrow leather booth at the hotel’s restaurant alongside Finn. “I don’t like this.” His gaze slipped to the two assignments they were protecting, Harper and a CIA officer.
“So, if you don’t like it, then why aren’t you the one posing as Harper’s date instead of the dead ringer for Elon Musk?” Finn kept his tone low to avoid being overheard.
“I didn’t say I—”
“Twenty bucks says Roman kills him before the end of the night,” A.J. said over comms from where he was positioned in the hotel lobby. Roman rolled his eyes when A.J. continued to blab. “Let me guess, our tech billionaire look-alike has his hand on her ass.”
Roman released his hold of the glass and settled his palm on his thigh, hiding the curl of his fingers that tightened into a fist at that exact sight. The CIA officer, Zack, did have his hand on the small of Harper’s back, far too close to her ass, and yes, it did make Roman want to kill the guy.
“Yeah, based on the way he’s clenching that jaw of his, I’d say you’d win that bet,” Finn commented with a laugh.
Roman could feel Finn’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t steal his focus away from Harper.
“And now that I’m taking a long, hard look at you—damn, brother, you have the kind of chiseled jaw women wax poetic about.
Don’t get me started about that head of hair you have, too. ”
Roman slowly pivoted his attention at his buddy, who never missed a chance to joke, even while working an op. But Finn never forgot the stakes of a mission.
They were in Spain because a former asset of Harper’s from when she was CIA had reached out to the Agency claiming to have intel on an impending attack against the U.S., but he would only speak to Harper.
And like hell would Echo Team allow the CIA to scoop Harper back into their clutches and refuse authorization for their people to go along on the mission.
Finn shrugged under the scrutiny of Roman’s dark stare, his eyes flashing with humor, then he dug into the tapas sitting on the table. Zack had ordered the food to keep up with appearances before he’d pulled Harper away and over to the bar at the center of the room.
Char-grilled octopus, Iberian pork shoulder, and mushroom carpaccio with a wasabi vinaigrette. At least Zack had good taste. But if he made a move on Harper after the op, and not for the sake of appearances, Roman would have a “friendly” word with the man.
The real kicker was that Roman liked Zack, at least as far as he’d gotten to know him in the last two days they’d been in Barcelona.
And that was a rarity. Over the years, he and the guys had only liked a handful of spooks, and three of the former officers were now part of their team: Harper, Jessica, and Natasha.
Jessica Scott Hayes was one of the reasons Bravo and Echo Teams existed.
She left the CIA to form the teams with her brother, Luke.
And Natasha Chandler, still in the CIA but now a liaison between POTUS and their teams was married to Echo One, Wyatt.
That extra layer of protection was necessary with Bravo Five’s father as the President.
But Harper.
Harper was . . .
Everything to Roman.
The guys on both Bravo and Echo knew that, but they didn’t realize he and Harper had already given in to their attraction last year. They’d crossed the line for five months. Stealing every non-operational moment in bed together. Or in other places.
He should’ve chalked up those five months as a lapse in judgment, a mistake.
At least he’d tried to feel that way because he’d known better than to get involved with her.
Yet, when they’d made the mutual decision to go back to being just friends, it was hard to regret anything other than the fact they couldn’t be together.
“I mean,” Finn said while popping a bite of food into his mouth, “this location sure as hell beats sitting in a trench with only a coffee can to piss in like the old days in Gan.” Gan was Finn’s code for Afghanistan. “So, you think she ever dated him?”
What is this? Were the guys purposely trying to goad Roman into losing hold of his emotions, emotions he’d worked so hard to keep in check? Although, when it came to Harper, he was failing since they could obviously see right through him. “She wouldn’t date someone she worked with.”
Finn coughed on whatever he’d just eaten and whispered, “Sure,” as if he knew something about Roman and Harper’s secret past. But as far as Roman knew, Finn had never witnessed them in any compromising situations last year.
Roman’s eyes returned to Harper. Her dark hair fell in soft waves over her back, a beautiful contrast to the gold silk top she wore.
Her height of five-seven had been boosted a few inches by her black strappy heels, elongating her already long, gorgeous legs, which were hidden beneath fitted black pants.
When they’d first exited the hotel suite thirty minutes ago, he’d nearly croaked out a request for her to change her top. The deep neckline drew too much attention to her breasts, but he’d clamped down on his teeth and refrained from barking out the order.
Harper peeked back at him from where she stood at the bar as if she felt his eyes trailing over every inch of her. He’d love to take her into his arms right there. Let everyone know she was his. Not Zack’s. Not anyone else’s, but . . . he couldn’t.
So, he let his mind explore her body since he couldn’t physically touch her.
The dozen thin, gold bracelets adorning her wrist would be all she wore while they made love—the musical jingling of the bracelets and her moans the only sounds in the bedroom.
Harper’s brown eyes tightened on him as if she realized he was fantasizing and not focusing on the op.
Shit, I need to get a grip. But every chance he had, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her.
October was the last time their mouths had touched, and that’d been an accident. When they’d had to sleep in the same room together in Puerto Rico, they’d slipped up and almost had sex. Nearly plowed through that recently restored friend wall.
Harper quickly returned her attention to Zack and whatever he was saying to her in the name of their cover story.
Zack had no idea what Roman and his teammates did for a living, and it was important they kept it that way. It was always a bit tricky working alongside someone within the alphabet soup of agencies, pretending they were civilians when in reality, they were far from it.
When Jessica, Luke, and a former SEAL, Will Hobbs, recruited Roman back in 2013 to join Echo Team, he hadn’t been eager to leave his platoon, but they’d made a rather convincing argument, and now here they were in February of 2022 and working for a second president.
The teams had lasted longer than Roman had expected without having their identities blown.
He didn’t regret his decision, even though Will Hobbs, the original liaison between their team and POTUS, wound up betraying the country.
Chills coasted over his skin just thinking about that traitor and how Harper nearly died because of him.
If Roman was allowed to drink tonight, he’d be kicking back something strong to try and handle the stress of this evening. To say he was on edge would be an understatement.
Posing as bodyguards to Harper and her fake date wasn’t ideal. And the job also meant he had to wear a suit: black dress pants, a white pressed shirt, and a black tie. The only purpose of the jacket was to hide his SIG P239. He wouldn’t have worn it otherwise. Too restrictive and not his style.
Since they were in Spain, Roman had to go as himself, a former sailor now working in the private sector for Scott & Scott Securities, which was why they didn’t need to use their typical Echo call signs over comms tonight.
Roman’s father’s family was well-known and recognizable in Spain, and Roman looked strikingly similar to his now-deceased cousin, Thiago.
So as much as he’d prefer to distance himself from being a Riviera, he couldn’t pretend to be anyone other than himself, a member of the wealthiest family in the Catalan capital of Spain.
Besides, Scott & Scott Securities was designed to be a legitimate and believable alias.
They had staff working actual cases there, so when Bravo and Echo Teams went out on an op, Scott & Scott was their fallback.
If a mission went sideways, the teams used the guise of their cover when dealing with authorities.
And no one was wiser to the fact they’d never truly retired as SEALs and worked off-the-books ops for the President of the United States.
The world wanted dangerous adversaries taken down, but most people preferred to be blissfully unaware of the hazardous details involved in that work.
Roman’s team was simply a cog in a much bigger machine known as the U.S.
government. They were often what kept the dark truth of the world from making the front-page news.
“Still no movement out here,” Wyatt’s voice popped over comms. He was in the prone position on the building across from their hotel, his eye behind the scope of his long gun, and Chris, Echo Three, was there alongside him. “Anything on your end?”
“No text yet,” Roman answered. “Keep you posted.”
Where was their mark? According to Zack, their source said he’d be there at ten p.m., the typical dinner rush hour in Barcelona.
“Roger that,” Wyatt answered.
Like Wyatt, Roman had also gone to sniper school, and although he rotated as the team’s sniper every so often and had excellent marksman skills, Wyatt was a surgeon with bullets. He’d rather Wyatt be on overwatch tonight.
On most ops, Harper didn’t leave their tactical operations center. She was usually at a safe distance a few klicks away, not thrust into the danger. But the CIA needed her out there, which meant Roman insisted he was within arm’s reach of her. Another reason he preferred Wyatt on the long gun.