Chapter 1
Vince cursed Fiona and her dramatics as he stomped up Ortiz’s front steps to make sure the door was locked. Ortiz, a fellow teammate and his best friend, had called him that morning, telling him Fiona, his baby sister, had gone missing and he’d had to leave so quickly to find her that he didn’t remember locking his house door. Leave it to Fiona to send everyone into a panic. She had been no better when they rescued her in the Congo a few weeks back. Clinging to her brother like a lifeline, endangering them.
Vinceexpelled a deep breath. He was being unfair. Fiona had always been a sheltered girl. The youngest of twelve girls with a protective mother and a horde of aunts and older sisters that would kill for her.He still didn’t know how Ortiz survived it growing up, being the only male besides his father.Vincehad met his family once and that had been scary as hell.The women had tried cutting up his food, mothering him like he was a child.It was no wonder Fiona didn’t know how to survive on her own. You couldn’t sneeze in her house without one of the women hovering over you, seeing if you had a cold.
And the yelling. Oh my god, the yelling. It was never-ending, over nothing sometimes. Two of his sisters Marcia and Elena argued for half an hour straight about the right way to fold socks. Socks. I mean, come on. It was either roll them or fold them. Who cared who did it what way? But to those women, it was like watching World War III break out. Everyone else in the house seemed oblivious to it, like it was a common occurrence. It probably was.
Which brought up the next concern, what would possess Fiona to run away? She didn’t have anywhere to go but her home. The Congo was the furthest she’d ever been away. Not that he was keeping track, just a casual observation.
Could it be something to do with the Congo? It was a pretty traumatic experience for a newbie. Lord knew her family wouldn’t be very helpful. They would give her all the love and support she needed, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Look at Tony, another teammate of his, the man had to finally go to Dr. Grace to get his head on straight. She was young but the military, fire department, and even the police department, used her a lot.
Maybethat’swhat Fiona needed. A therapist. She wasn’t allowed to talk about what happened in the Congo due to the sensitivity of the mission, but maybe talking to a therapist about her experience, leaving some details out, would help.
He didn’t know why he should care. Just being helpful. It wasn’t any of his business. Fiona meant nothing to him.
Liar.
He couldn’t even lie to his subconscious. He had wanted Fiona since the moment he met her. Long, curly dark chocolate hair that cascaded down her back. A trim waist, legs for miles. He liked a tall woman for whom he didn’t have to bend in half to kiss. Fiona was just the perfect height. The top of her head just coming to his lips.She’d only have to tilt back and he’d only have to lean forward for them to kiss,but she was off limits. She was Ortiz’s little sister. A major no-no. It was a line he would never cross. Well, again. He had kissed her once. Years ago. A kiss that was still burned in his brain. She’d tasted so sweet and innocent. He wouldn’t be surprised if that had been her first kiss. But it would be the last for them. Damn, but he wanted more.
For the first time in his life, he wanted more. He didn’t want to sleep with just another nameless partner. He wanted her but knew he could never have her. He’d taken advantage of her innocence and told her things he would never forgive himself for and left. It was the only way to keep his distance. It had worked until recently. The Congo had been torture. Even dirty and disheveled, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Her bright golden eyes, though afraid, still captivated.
So many times, he had wished it was him to comfort her instead of Savannah or Ortiz, even though he didn’t have a right to. Any time she looked at him, it was with hurt and anger. He couldn’t blame her. He’d put that wedge between them. It was his fault. He’d said things that were unforgivable. All because he was too much of a coward to admit what he felt for her. He came with up with all kinds of excuses why it would never work. Her family, his job, their ages, her brother. They were all legit excuses that he stood by.
He just needed to forget about her. She was somewhere in Florida and Ortiz would find her. He would check Ortiz’s door and go to the gym afterward to burn off some energy.
He was sure Ortiz had locked it, the man was too OCD to forget, but he’d promised to check.Vincerattled the doorknob. Sure enough, the door was locked.Vincerolled his eyes, thinking it had been a wasted trip.
Vinceshook his head, walking back down the steps when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The flowering bushes on the side of the walkway were bent and broken flowers were scattered on the ground. There hadn’t been any wind last night, so the only plausible reason he could think of was someone had walked through them, and it wasn’t likely it was Ortiz. A burglar?
Vincewalked along the side of the house, finding foot impressions in the dirt, confirming his theory. Judging by the size of the impressions, it was a tall person.Vincepulled his knife out of his boot and kept it at his side, just in case. Too many years of sneak attacks had taught him to always keep a weapon on hand. He followed the tracks to the back of the house.Vincemade a mental note to tell Ortiz to get a fence. With as often as they were gone, it wouldn’t hurt to add another measure of security.
Vinceapproached the back door carefully; all the blinds were drawn, so he couldn’t see in. He would be going in blind. Good thing he knew the layout of the house. A glance at the doorknob showed there were scratches on the door lock, a sign of forced entry. Whoever it was, knew how to pick a lock, but not proficiently, and obviously wasn’t a friendly or they would know where the hide-a-key was and didn’t need to pick the lock to begin with.
Ortiz would have noticed the scratched lock when he left not too long ago and made mention of it, which meant this was recent.Sometime since Ortiz left. The foot impressions in the ground supported that. There were tracks going in but not out, which meant the burglar was most likely still inside.
Vinceretrieved the key from the false brick under the back window and opened the door before putting the key back. He entered the house quietly, avoiding the squeaky floorboards as he made his way through the house. A quick sweep showed no one downstairs. Nothing had even been disturbed. Whoever it was that broke in wasn’t looking for things to steal and later sell. So why break in? Wasn’t that the purpose of breaking in? Steal things to make a quick buck?
He still had the upstairs to check.
There were only two bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. It wouldn’t take long. He would make sure the perp wasn’t still there before calling Ortiz to see if he wanted the police involved or not. Then he was going to the hardware store and getting new locks installed.
Vincechecked Ortiz’s bedroom and bathroom first. Nothing. He checked the spare bath and noticed the sink had been used. The water was still dripping even.The shower was also wet, with a damp towel hanging on a hook near it.Ortiz was the biggest playboyVincehad ever met, and that was saying a lot considering his own track record, but he never invited women over to his home and he hadn’t had any guests over recently. Had the perp used the bathroom? Nothing about this situation was adding up.
There was only one place left to check. The guest bedroom.
Vinceheld his knife at chest level as he approached the bedroom expecting anything. He slowed his breathing, only breathing in and out of his nose so he didn’t give his position away. His hand was steady as he held his knife at the ready in case someone came out of the shadows attacking him.
His ears perked up for any different sound. A creak on the floor, breathing. The movement of fabric. It had taken him years to hone all of those skills. Skills that had saved his life more times than he cared to remember. So far all was silent.
The bedroom door was cracked open. Another thing out of place, indicating someone else was there.Vincegently pushed the door open enough that he could slip in. The room was dark, except for a small ray of light coming from below the curtains across the room. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark as he looked around the room. When no one jumped out at him, he focused on the bed.
The blankets were kicked to the foot of the bed with a body lying in the middle of it.Vinceraised his knife up as he stood at the edge of the bed. He couldn’t make out more than a slim figure in a shirt and shorts that looked too large for them. The form stirred as if knowing he stood above them, when suddenly an ear-piercing screech rang out before something connected with his crotch.
Vincewas momentarily blinded by hot piercing pain and dropped his knife and hunched over, groaning in agony. Damn, he should have seen that coming. He just hadn’t expected a female to be in the bed.Or to respond in such a brutal way.
The woman punched him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground as she scrambled over him, running for the door. He couldn’t let her get away. She obviously didn’t belong there. Why was she hiding in Ortiz’s house? How did she know he was gone? So many questions that would go unanswered if he let her get away.
Hobbling to his feet and choking back bile,Vinceleapt at the woman, catching her around the legs and bringing her down to the ground. She tried crawling out of his grip as he climbed over her. He caught a tantalizing scent that seemed familiar to him but he couldn’t quite place it. Then an elbow came back toward his face and all he could think about was protecting his assets.
