Chapter 5
Doc swore under his breath. His meeting with the other Delta team had gone on for over four hours.
Everyone had agreed that the security seemed too lax at the sports venues.
There hadn’t been any specific threats made, but the Delta teams knew better than most that any kind of huge worldwide event like the Olympics was bound to attract terrorists.
The teams had mapped out the venues and identified the most vulnerable areas—agreeing there could also be more security at the entrance gates to the Olympic Village—then did their best to come up with plans to mitigate danger, should it arise.
Trigger and the other team leader would be meeting with the other heads of security and police to see if they could ferret out any specific threats, as well as add to the security numbers.
Doc was uneasy for a reason he couldn’t name, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, but there was nothing more they could do tonight.
Everyone agreed that the athletes were safe while inside the village.
Everyone had to present credentials to get in, then show them again to get into the dorms. But when the athletes ventured out tomorrow to the various venues, they’d be fair game.
As would be the workers, volunteers, spectators, and fans.
A terrorist group could strike at any time, and they all needed to stay on their toes.
Doc looked at his watch and sighed. It was eleven-thirty, and Ember was probably sound asleep in her own room by now.
He stopped by the reception desk and got another key to his room before heading upstairs.
He’d been looking forward to talking with her some more.
Getting to know her better. What he’d learned about her so far, he liked.
A lot. The uneasiness he’d felt when he’d first seen her hadn’t gone away, but it was now only a distant throbbing, instead of an uncomfortable beating in his head.
Nothing had changed…she was still famous.
Still in the limelight. And if—no, when she won a medal in the next two days, she’d be even more in the spotlight.
But even that thought couldn’t keep his interest at bay.
Though she’d been raised in Beverly Hills by wealthy parents who’d done everything in their power to make her into the woman she was today, he could see she was itching to break out of their control.
He wanted to help her in any way he could.
But that was stupid. She didn’t need his help. Who was he? No one. Just another admirer. She could literally have any man she wanted. Why would she want him?
Still, if he could help her by letting her use his window to look up at the sky, he would. He’d do what he could to keep her safe and relaxed so she could perform up to her potential. Then she’d forget about him as soon as she got home.
The dorm was quieter tonight than it had been other nights, which Doc was glad about. He wanted Ember, and her teammates, to have every advantage possible to be at the top of their game tomorrow for the first round of fencing.
He stuck his key card into the slot of his room, stepped inside—then froze for a second. He immediately realized he wasn’t alone, but even as his hand went to his weapon in the hidden holster at the small of his back, he realized who was in the dark room with him.
Ember.
She was lying on his bed, fast asleep.
Doc laid his weapon on the desk without a sound and silently walked farther into the room.
He was glad he hadn’t flicked on the light, as that would’ve surely woken her up.
She’d left the curtains open, and he noticed she’d pushed the bed closer to the window.
He figured she could probably see the stars from where she’d lain her head.
The absolute last thing Doc wanted to do was disturb her. At rest, she fascinated him even more. He couldn’t deny it. She looked completely relaxed, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
He’d done an internet search on Ember Maxwell earlier that day, and he’d seen picture after picture of her completely made up, smiling, laughing.
Most of the pictures were obviously posed.
And while she was beautiful in each and every one of them, Doc much preferred her like this.
Her face scrubbed clean, her hair in disarray on his pillow. Wearing sweats and a T-shirt.
He recalled the few candid pictures he’d uncovered in his search. They’d all seemed incredibly intrusive. In one, she was sitting against the wall in a gym, probably where she worked out, her shoulders slumped as if she was tired or upset. The caption had said, “Ebony Princess Loses.”
Some of the comments were mean, demeaning, or racist, but the majority were positive and encouraging. It was obvious most of Ember’s fans loved her and didn’t hesitate to stand up for her.
Another candid picture featured Ember wearing a beautiful green dress at some formal event.
She’d been shot from a distance, standing off by herself while clusters of other pretty women were nearby, seemingly excluding her.
He didn’t remember the caption exactly, only that it was something petty and spiteful about Ember thinking she was too good for the crowd she was with.
He’d closed his browser after seeing a few more pictures with hateful captions and comments. Yes, she had her supporters, but it was obvious some people hated her as well.
Doc understood that kind of hate all too well.
He’d lived amongst Black friends and family long enough to see the effects of discrimination up close and personal.
It bothered him then, and it bothered him now.
He never understood why skin color was a factor in deciding what kind of person someone was.
He’d met assholes of every race. He’d learned from a young age to judge people by their actions and words, not the color of their skin.
But he was very aware plenty of people in his country—and around the world—still thought like should stick to like.
Black people should date and marry Black people.
White people should date and marry white people.
Asian people should only be with people of Asian descent.
It went on and on, no matter where someone lived, or what their culture and religion was, the belief that people should stick with those who looked and thought the same as them would remain.
Discrimination was rampant everywhere, and was a major factor behind wars.
Why teams like the Delta Force were necessary.
Reading some of the comments on Ember’s Instagram account made him equal parts happy and pissed off. Happy that so many people supported her, pissed at the hate people spewed as they hid behind their keyboard.
Putting his back to the wall, Doc slid down silently, keeping his eyes on a sleeping Ember as he admitted to himself what he wasn’t ready to say out loud.
He wanted her. It was that simple…and that complicated.
He knew she was out of his league, but that didn’t make the want go away.
He wanted to see her smile and make her happy.
He wanted to give her everything she longed for…
but what could he give her that she didn’t already have or couldn’t get for herself?
She was smart, successful, and an amazing athlete.
She had more money than he could even imagine.
She was beautiful and popular and was an inspiration to a lot of people.
She deserved to live in the light. To shine bright and inspire as many people as possible. He was like a mole to her eagle. She soared high, and he lived in the underbelly of the world. Slinking around in the dead of night.
But Doc couldn’t make himself stay away from her.
He’d soak up her light for as long as he could.
Ember stirred but didn’t open her eyes. She rolled to her side, facing him, and Doc couldn’t take his eyes from her.
He should wake her up and get her back to her room.
But she had to compete tomorrow, and if she was asleep now, he didn’t want to risk her feeling awkward and not being able to go back to sleep in her own bed.
So he sat there. His back against the wall, watching over her as she slumbered.
His eyes eventually drooped, and Doc rested his head on the hard concrete behind him.
It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he’d slept in worse places in his life.
He wasn’t in the mud and rain, and he was ninety-nine percent sure he wasn’t going to be ambushed in the middle of the night. It was enough to let him doze off.
Ember rolled over onto her back and took a deep breath. She’d always been a morning person; it came with all those five a.m. swim practices she’d had growing up. Her room was still dark, but she’d left the bathroom light on and it gave the space a dim glow.
Peering at her watch, she saw it was almost time for her to get up. Today was competition day. The thought made her smile.
Turning her head, she froze.
She wasn’t in her room at the Olympic Village dorm.
Craig was lying on the floor—the floor—across from her. There wasn’t even a damn rug on the hard tile. He was on his back, with one hand under his head. He was fully dressed and sound asleep.
Ember remembered immediately what had happened. She’d been watching the stars and had gotten drowsy. Figuring he’d be back any minute, she pushed his bed closer to the window and had lain down, intending on taking a cat nap until Craig returned.
But she’d obviously been more tired than she thought and had fallen into a deep sleep. So deep, she hadn’t even heard Craig enter his room. And he obviously didn’t want to wake her.
She felt incredibly weird about the whole thing. So many emotions welled up inside her. Gratitude. Embarrassment. Concern for him. Affection.
Ember sighed. She was already falling for him…a man she barely knew…despite the fact it would be almost impossible for anything to happen between them.