Ignited (Titanium Security Series) (4 page)

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Authors: Kaylea Cross

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BOOK: Ignited (Titanium Security Series)
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The modern sparkling glass and tile lobby was busy, filled with wealthy tourists and businessmen dressed in suits. A far cry from the places where she’d be staying in a few days once they entered the mountainous tribal region bordering Afghanistan. In light of the circumstances she’d have felt a hell of a lot better if Tom would guard her personally, but that wasn’t going to happen and she had to accept it. In their last conversation before she’d flown here he’d told her he was working on finding a solid team for her and promised to find someone he trusted. That would have to be good enough.

The bar came into view, a polished mahogany expanse tucked away into a cozy corner of the lounge. She spotted a group of six well built men seated on leather sofas set against the far wall. Two she recognized as belonging to Ray’s detail, so she assumed the others must be here for her. The oldest, maybe around forty with reddish-blond hair shaved close to his head, had to be the team leader.

Khalia drew a calming breath to battle her nerves. “That them?” she asked Ray, but the men had spotted her and were already rising from their chairs. To her surprise the redhead didn’t approach her. A slightly shorter man with dark hair broke away from the group and when she got her first good look at him, something inside her stilled. Was this who Tom had sent to lead her detail?

He was way younger than she’d expected. Around the same age as her, in his late twenties if she had to guess. Her palms went damp. Was he experienced enough to lead the group of men charged with keeping her safe over here? When Tom had promised to send her one of his best, someone with a lot of experience, she’d assumed he’d assign someone much older.

The man kept coming, scrutinizing her just as closely. He was around six feet tall or so, with short dark hair and light brown eyes that were a little startling against his tanned complexion. His features were rugged, too harsh to be called handsome, and from the amount of stubble on his face it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days.

His expression remained neutral as he sized her up, but there was something in his gaze that made her insides tighten in reflex. The flat line of his mouth and the hard glint in his eyes made him look cold. Unapproachable. A light gray polo shirt stretched taut over his broad chest and shoulders and showed off his well-defined arms. His build spoke of hard work and discipline. His confident posture, the controlled way he moved told her he’d definitely spent time in the military. But a SEAL?

She’d recently learned the hard truth that not all claims about being a SEAL were legit.

He was almost to her now. The dark caramel of his eyes should have made them seem warm, but instead the look in them sent a chill of unease through her. Now that he was closer she realized he didn’t look at all happy to see her. In fact, it looked like he either never smiled or had forgotten how to. Unless there was yet another problem she was unaware of?

Never let them see you sweat.

Over the years her father had told her that more times than she could count. Easier said than done right now, however. She was totally out of her element here and had to keep reminding herself why she was doing this. Because she
was
doing this. No matter the consequences.

Though having no consequences would be
awesome
.

Ray stood a step or two behind her, offering the silent support of his calming presence. Smoothing her hands against the sides of her dress to wipe away the dampness that had gathered on her palms, Khalia straightened her spine and put on a polite smile as she prepared to meet this hard-edged man who would hold her life in his hands during the next week.

Chapter Three

Given what he’d seen and read about her in her file, Khalia Patterson wasn’t at all what he’d expected. And Hunter wasn’t the kind of man who liked to be surprised. Not in this line of work.

Next time he talked to Tom, he was going to give him hell for this.

Hunter held Khalia’s gaze as he approached and pushed aside his misgivings about the job. First off, she was a hell of a lot prettier than he’d realized. The few pictures he’d seen of her hadn’t been of good quality, and her face had been all puffy and wet from crying at her father’s funeral. She might not be beautiful, but there was definitely something about her that drew his interest. She moved with a smooth, purposeful gait that spoke of a high level of self-esteem and he had to give her points for maintaining eye contact without flinching because right now he wasn’t making an effort to mask his feelings about this detail.

Taking her out to the tribal region while there was a credible threat against her life? Even if he hadn’t read her file earlier, with a single glance Hunter could already tell she didn’t belong here. It was obvious she was greener than green. That would only make his job harder.

With her long dark brown hair pulled up in a pile of curls, wearing a pale pink sleeveless dress that skimmed her rounded curves and ended just below her knees and those fragile high heels that emphasized a very sexy pair of legs, she looked about as tough as Barbie. Her face was too open, her startling light green eyes unique enough to draw attention, and worse, they gave away her every thought. Right now they regarded him with a wary light, probably because he looked less than pleased.

How the hell was she going to make it in the rugged tribal region? Everyone that met her was going to remember her eyes, and that wasn’t a good thing. He drew up a few feet from her. Pulling his professional demeanor around him, he opened his mouth to introduce himself and started to offer a hand when she beat him to it.

“I’m Khalia,” she announced, holding out a hand, a friendly smile in place.

He shook it politely, a bit surprised by the firm grip she used. And her eye contact never wavered. She wasn’t lacking in confidence, that was for sure. He didn’t yet know if that was good or bad though. In his experience, coming from the kind of money she did tended to give people an overinflated opinion of themselves. He hoped she wasn’t like that. “Ma’am. I’m Hunter Phillips.”

“Nice to meet you.” She released his hand and folded her arms across the firm-looking breasts he was trying not to notice beneath the conservative yet nonetheless enticing bodice of that dress. “So, Tom sent you?”

He thought he detected a hint of suspicion in her tone, but having never met her before, he couldn’t be sure. “That’s right.”

“And I understand you were a SEAL?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded once. Those pale green eyes, made even more vivid by her tasteful makeup and thick black lashes, swept over him in thorough assessment. And not in an appreciative way. His admission didn’t get him the reaction he usually got from women when they found out he’d been a SEAL. Not even close.

Instead, when she met his gaze again her expression gave him the foreign feeling that she’d measured him against some unknown yard stick and found him lacking. “If you don’t mind me asking, what Team were you with?” This time he was sure he wasn’t imagining the skepticism buried in her polite tone.

A bit taken aback, he eyed her guardedly as he responded. “A few different ones over the years.”

Apparently his evasive answer didn’t earn him any more points. Her gaze hardened, became almost cool. “Ah. And where did you go through BUD/S?”

Okay, this was getting flat out weird and the edge to her tone made it clear she wasn’t asking all these questions out of mere curiosity. Being grilled like this was the last thing he’d expected from her. Tom had told him she was kind and easygoing, and nothing in the dossier he’d read about her suggested she might be difficult to work with. Easygoing wasn’t exactly how she was coming across at the moment, however.

He glanced over her shoulder at her co-worker Ray for some indication of what the hell was going on, but the man seemed to be fighting back a smile and didn’t say anything as he spun around and walked away.

Turning his attention back to Khalia, Hunter set his hands on his hips and fought down his impatience. What the hell did it matter to her what Team he’d been with and where he’d done his initial training? He fought to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Little Creek, Virginia.”

Another nod, and that assessing look that made him feel like she had him under a magnifying glass. Did she think he was lying? His spine stiffened. “And what rank were you when you left the Navy?” she continued.

“I made it to Lieutenant.”
And that probably doesn’t impress you either, does it?
Jesus, maybe he should have brought his fucking resume and a list of references with him for her to double check.

A frown creased her forehead, as though what he’d told her wasn’t adding up in her head. Or maybe she couldn’t envision him as being capable of leading a platoon of men. “How old are you? If that’s not too personal.”

He arched an eyebrow.
“Thirty one.” He swore he could read the dread in her eyes as she came to the realization that he was only three years older than her.
Believe me, sweetheart, I’m plenty old enough to guard your pretty little tail for the next week.
“Anything else?”

His crisp tone made her lose some of her bravado. A faint tinge of pink hit her cheeks, as though she’d only just realized that she’d been interrogating him in the middle of the lobby. “You’re just…not what I expected after talking to Tom, that’s all.” She flashed a tight, uncomfortable smile.

Yeah, that makes two of us.
He’d be damned if he would apologize for who he was though. “He hired me for this detail on short notice.”

That seemed to make her even more uneasy. She eyed him again, trailing her gaze over his torso and back up to his face as if searching for clues to a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.

He wanted to ask her if he passed inspection, but instinct told him there was more to this than disappointment or even dislike on her part. And as he stood there trying to understand the disquiet in her eyes, realization finally hit him.

She didn’t believe him.

Didn’t believe he’d ever been a SEAL, much less served as an officer in the Teams.

Seriously? He fought the urge to laugh. The last thing he’d thought he’d be doing this morning was having to prove himself to the woman he’d been assigned to protect. What proof could he offer her right now, other than his word? Did she expect a demonstration of his skills before she decided if he was qualified to be her head of security?

He doubted it would ease her mind to know that he could tell her exactly how many people stood in the lobby at that very moment, where they were positioned, where each exit was and the location and make of the vehicles parked under the porte-cochere outside the revolving front doors. Or that he had a pistol tucked away at the small of his back and a spare magazine of ammo in his pocket.

Those pale eyes flicked up to his once more. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long were you with the Teams?”

Why would he mind that one after everything else? “Six years.” Frustrated, he folded his arms across his chest. He knew the move was intimidating because it emphasized his size, but he didn’t give a shit if he intimidated her at the moment. He cocked an eyebrow in silent challenge when she continued to stare at him. “You want my BUD/S class number so you can check up on me? Call up NAVSOC headquarters and have them run my records?”

Her gaze snapped up to his, a hint of steel entering her expression at his acidic tone. “And how would I know if you gave me the real one?”

Okay, to hell with this.
He whipped his cell phone out of his pocket and thrust it toward her. “Call Tom and ask him yourself about my credentials.”

Flushing, she waved his hand away and lowered her eyes. “I’m sure that’s not necessary,” she murmured, clearly embarrassed at being called out.

No? For her it seemed pretty goddamn necessary. “Maybe you’d rather speak to my former commander at Little Creek instead. I’ve got his number programmed in here too.”

That intelligent gaze lifted to his once more, and he felt a shock in his gut as the underlying hint of vulnerability in her eyes finally registered. He’d seen that look enough to know what it meant. Whatever was going on for her, it was based on fear, not rudeness.

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