Authors: Lindsay McKenna
“Yes, we’re completely immune to any unwanted invasion by electronic device, drone, laser, infrared, heat sensors, or satellite snooping with their facilities. The walls are made of the latest composite material. They won’t find us from the sky or by using their ground-search instruments.”
“Good,” Wyatt murmured. “I want you safe, darlin’.”
Tal saw her father open the door to her office. He was dressed in casual, dark green chinos, a white shirt, and a dark brown corduroy blazer. That was dressing down for him. “Dad, he’s here,” Tal said with a smile, standing and gesturing toward Wyatt.
Robert Culver’s peppered brows rose as he saw him. “You beat us to the punch, Lockwood.” He stepped forward, offering his hand. “Good to have you home, son.”
“Thank you, sir,” Wyatt said, standing and shaking his hand.
“Got jet lag?” Robert asked.
“A little, not much. I had to spend a week in Coronado getting my platoon settled in, so I’m good to go. Hungry, though.”
Robert smiled. “We’ve got a nice little family-owned inn down the road, a favorite of ours. How about I take you and Tal to lunch?”
Wyatt looked to Tal, and she nodded. “Sounds good to me, sir.”
“You can drop the ‘sir,’ Wyatt. I’m not wearing my uniform.” Robert gazed warmly over at Tal. “Right now, I’m unofficially known as dad-in-chief of Artemis, helping Tal bring it online.”
Chuckling, Tal opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out her black leather purse, sliding it over her left shoulder. “I like that. Maybe we should use it as a new call sign, Dad?” She limped over, sliding her arm around her father’s waist, giving him a strong hug of hello.
Wyatt liked the warmth between father and daughter. It was clear that Robert Culver adored his daughter as they drove to the Pheasant Inn, a few miles from the farmhouse. The black SUV had an assigned driver and Robert Culver sat in the passenger seat while Wyatt sat in the rear seat with Tal, who was quiet.
She was the serious child, the responsible one who had grown up taking care of her siblings and realizing her place as firstborn in the family. Wyatt had met Alexa several times since Tal had left Bagram. And while Alexa may have been sunlight, Wyatt thought of Tal as a new moon on a starry night, mysterious, exotic, and sensual.
At the inn, they were taken to a roomy, red leather U-shaped booth with a view of everyone in the small but cozy restaurant. It was 1130 and the patrons were starting to drift in. Wyatt’s mouth watered as he picked up the delicious fragrances from the kitchen. It appeared the owner, Julie Townsend, a red-haired young woman in her midtwenties with dancing green eyes, knew the Culver family very well. She hugged father and daughter, and then Tal introduced her to Wyatt, who received a hug, too.
“Friendly place,” he drawled, enjoying the warm welcome.
“It is,” Tal said. “Family-owned. Our kind of people. Welcome to civilian life.”
“Are you enjoying it?” Wyatt asked as he perused the menu.
“Very much so. Here, no one’s shooting at me.”
Robert added, “Thank God.”
Wyatt took her statement seriously, understanding very clearly its implications. He knew Tal was still recovering from what had happened to her out on that slope in the Hindu Kush. PTSD was guaranteed. Hell, he had some himself, not that he went around admitting it to anyone.
Right now, he wanted to build good memories, and on this thirty-day leave, he wanted the woman who had claimed him, heart and soul. She looked incredibly sophisticated in her new garb, a far cry from cammies, weapons carried on her body, and her Win-Mag sniper rifle. The change was startling—no, wonderful! He was glad to have her far away from enemy bullets.
“Wyatt,” Robert said after they turned in their orders to the waitress, “I’m very interested in your mission software. Tal’s been telling me a lot about it and how it helped her with her mission planning. By any chance, did you bring it with you?”
Wyatt nodded. “Yes, I did. I thought I’d let Tal give it a trial run at Artemis. Do you mind?”
Shrugging, Robert gave his oldest daughter a warm look. “Tal’s the CEO, so it’s her call, not mine. All I do is provide consulting services when asked, and military connections behind the scenes when needed.”
“I’d love to use it, Wyatt,” she said, sipping water with a slice of lime in it. “We’ve just gotten the briefing rooms down on B2 finished. There are all kinds of computer equipment in them, big wall screens and communication gear set up. Jay has been doing a wonderful job of getting it all wired and put in and working.”
“Good,” he murmured. Wyatt had run into Jay Caldwell earlier on the third floor elevator, and they’d patted one another heartily on the back. The kid had never looked happier, and Wyatt knew he’d deserved a break like this. He drank his steaming coffee. “Maybe in a couple of days we can give it a go. Right now, I just need some downtime, lots of sleep, and to get off that cliff called Afghanistan.”
Tal gave him a faint smile. “You’ll get your wish.”
“Maybe we’ll fire up your software in, say, three days, Wyatt?” Robert asked.
“Sure, we can do that.”
Wyatt saw how happy Tal was, and that made
him
happy. He’d never realized until now how much stress had shown on her face. Now it was gone.
“Could this software be used on any kind of mission?” Robert probed. He took a freshly made biscuit from the woven wooden basket that Julie had just placed on the table for them, slathering it with butter.
“Right now,” Wyatt said, “I’ve written it for combat missions, police SWAT teams, but it could be tweaked for other types of missions that might not be SEAL-DA oriented.”
Tal pressed her lips together in thought. “Alexa’s department is the Safe House arm of Artemis, and we’re looking at several scenarios. Some cases may involve a foreign father stealing his child and running back to his country of origin. The American wife is left without her child and has no way to find her husband or her child ever again. It’s a heartbreaking situation. We could use mission software on those types of cases.”
“In that scenario,” Wyatt said, “it would take me time to understand the backstory of what happened in order to write software that could respond to that type of situation.”
“But it could be done?” Robert asked, pressing him intently.
“Yes,” Wyatt assured him.
Tal picked up a hot biscuit, opening it up, watching the steam drift upward from it. “What about KNR cases?”
“Same strategy applies, but KNR is more like combat conditions and scenarios, so it would be faster and easier to adapt my software to it.”
Robert nodded, studying Wyatt. “Son, you’re a damn smart fellow, and I think that, judging by what Tal has told us, I’d really like to have Artemis Security own what you’ve created. After watching it work, I think you, Tal, and I should go to her office and talk seriously about it. Are you interested?”
Wyatt saw Tal relax in the chair, fondly gazing at her father. “Sure, we can talk about it.”
“We’d want exclusivity,” Robert said, his growing excitement evident in his voice.
“Dad . . . ,” Tal pleaded, knowing her father was gung-ho on getting their hands on Wyatt’s one-of-a-kind software.
Robert grinned apologetically, chastened. “Okay, honey, I’ll be good. No more business talk at lunch. Got it.”
T
AL THREW HER
car keys into a red glass bowl in the foyer of her third-story condo. Wyatt shut the door and followed her down the teak hall, which shone in rich golds and browns. The condo was large and airy and had two bedrooms. He enjoyed the view from the rear, watching Tal’s feminine hip movements, despite her limp.
He wanted to massage that stiffened ankle, give her some relief from the pain he saw when she slowly put partial weight on it. She had to wear that special boot that supported it. But it didn’t ruin the glamorous image he always held of her.
“Hey, nice digs,” he murmured, sauntering into the living room. It was an open-concept layout, and the kitchen sparkled with steel appliances, a red and gold granite countertop, and five black leather-covered stools halfway around the long rectangular island.
He sniffed. “Hey, you’ve been cooking,” he said, giving her a big smile.
Tal pulled off her black wool blazer and draped it over the burnt-orange corduroy sofa. “I promised you Greek and Turkish food when you got here. Remember?”
Wyatt turned to her. Tal was resting her hips against the back of the huge U-shaped sofa. The colors were warm in here, reminding him of the Mediterranean, but why wouldn’t they be? Half her heritage was from that part of the world. He placed his hands on either side of her hips, holding her sultry green gaze.
“So what are you hungry for, darlin’?” he asked, taking her mouth slowly, tasting her, feeling her respond, her arms sliding around his shoulders. It was like a dream to have Tal in his embrace, her breasts resting against his chest, her hips moving against his, letting him know just how much she wanted him. She was feline indeed, an alpha-female Anatolian leopard on the prowl for her mate. He smiled as he drew away, teasing. “Tell me . . .”
She sighed and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m not in very romantic circumstances, Wyatt, much as I wish I could be . . .”
“Everything can be an act of love,” he growled, kissing the tip of her nose. It was exactly what he needed—having time with Tal, just the two of them, to touch and kiss and . . .
“My ankle. It’s killing me. I don’t normally do so much walking every day. Today, it’s pretty swollen and I need to get in a tub of hot water and soak it.”
“Okay,” he said helpfully, “let me draw it for you.”
“How very kind.” She grinned.
“And”—he kissed her temple and then her delicate ear—“after you soak it, I’ll help you get in bed and massage it for you.”
She groaned with pleasure. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
Wyatt cocked his head. “What part of me loving you did you miss, darlin’?” He saw laughter shining in her eyes.
“I guess I had that coming.”
“And a lot more,” he promised. “I’m going to spoil you absolutely rotten, woman. I can see how much pain you’re in. You’re real good at covering it up, though, I’ll give you that. But remember, I can spot your pain a mile away, so quit trying to hide it from me. It’s not gonna work, Tal.”
She sighed as he helped her stand on her own two feet, his hand cupping her elbow. “That’s the SEAL sniper in you, Wyatt. I guess I can’t escape it.”
“No, you can’t, darlin’,” he assured her smugly, allowing her to lead him down the hall toward the bathroom. “I don’t miss
any
details.”
Tal halted at her bedroom, pushing the door open wider. “Want to come in?”
“You have to ask? In a heartbeat,” he said, noting that the filmy curtains over the huge window on one side of the bed allowed the last of the dusk light in. The curtains were a deep marine blue. The spread across the king-size bed was clearly Greek in design and bursting with bright colors. He saw a small replica of a sailing ship on her tiger-maple dresser.
“Whose ship is this?” he asked.
“Cousin Angelo’s yacht, the
Diana
.” Tal sat down on one of the fabric-covered chairs near the bed. “Diana was the goddess of the hunt. In Turkey, she’s known as Artemis. My mom’s Turkish family has the largest global shipping concern called Artemis Shipping. Angelo’s is the second-largest container shipping company in the world, and it’s called Delos Shipping.” She shook her head. “I find the synchronicity wild because in Greek myths, it’s said that the sun god, Apollo, and Artemis were born on the isle of Delos.” Tal started to lean over to begin the process of removing the lightweight boot on her right foot.
“Let me,” Wyatt coaxed, kneeling down on one knee. “I’ll be gentle,” he said, his fingers quickly beginning to deftly open the Velcro straps.
“You really are going to spoil me,” Tal whispered, leaning back, closing her eyes, a soft smile on her lips.
“Every second, darlin’,” Wyatt promised, easing the boot open very slowly. He saw a lot of swelling around her ankle and scowled. “Tal,” he muttered, “you need to use that cane. Your ankle looks like a fat piece of sausage right now.”
She opened her eyes and sat up, making a face as she studied it. “Yes, it’s worse than usual tonight.”
“You should have saved showing me around the security building for some other time,” he said, giving her a chastising look. Slipping off the boot, he rolled her gray sock off and set it aside. “Lie back on the bed and relax. I’m going to do a little lymphatic massage and get some of that swelling reduced. You’ll feel a lot better when I’m done.”
“Promise?” She lay down, closing her eyes.
“I promise.” Wyatt swept his fingers as light as a feather across her purplish swollen flesh. The ankle was twice the size it should have been. He knew that crushed bones often caused a lot of capillary damage in the tissue around them, so fluids collected and didn’t move through like they should. He heard Tal groan and then utterly relax beneath his skilled and gentle ministrations.
“Whatever you’re doing, it feels wonderful, Wyatt,” she murmured.
“I’ll do this at least two or three times a day. It’s going to help relieve all that stiffness.”
“You’re the best,” Tal said, her words barely a whisper.
He glanced up at her, realizing the toll that the pain took on her daily. “Aren’t you taking a pain med to help you get through the day?”
She lifted her hand, fingers graceful. “I hate medications. I hated being on that damned morphine drip, Wyatt. And the meds the doc here gave me made me feel like my head was in the clouds. I have to think clearly and be able to focus.”
He grunted but understood her logic. “What I’d like to do this coming week is to go over your medical records and look at what your doc is prescribing for you. Then we’ll go have a chat with him.”
“Good, because I’m a paramedic and I know drugs. He tried to put me on a muscle relaxant, and I turned him down. My mind would be missing in action if I took that kind of drug.”
“For sure,” he agreed. He already saw the fluids reducing, her skin getting less tight. The warm roughness of his hands was gently easing the collected fluid away from her ankle. “Feel a little better?”