Page 8 of Taylor’s Warrior

“It’s going to be hard on Taylor if he isn’t.” Ghost observed.

“You might have to be prepared for that,” Tex warned. “He’s sent all this data to Taylor because he believes they—whoever they are—are coming for him, but it’s like he doesn’t know he’s potentially put her at risk, too.”

Nick frowned. “Doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”

“Thing is,” Tex continued, “what if they manage to find out where he sent the package? Trouble could come knocking on your door—you got enough protection?”

Nick gave a humorless laugh—he wasn’t surprised the former SEAL was on the same wavelength. “That’d be funny if we didn’t, given what we do. Charity’s with Tay right now, explaining why she needs to stay at the ranch for the next few days. However, depending on what we uncover, it might be best if we get her well away from here, maybe even all the way out of Texas.”

“It might be advisable,” Ghost agreed. “Leave it with me. I have some friends who may be able to help.”

“Friends?” Nick queried. “Are you going to tell me who they are?”

“Might be better for all of you if I don’t. Plausible deniability if this op goes sideways. Know what I mean?”

Nick knew only too well. He also knew he could trust Ghost with his life—and, more to the point, with the life of his friend. “Thanks. I’ll leave it with you. Just let me know what you need.”

“Will do.”

After the call, Nick mulled over everything they’d discussed. A plan was coming together, but there was one aspect that made him more than a little uncomfortable. If Taylor did end up traveling out of state, there was no way Nick would allow her to make that trip alone. He wanted one of his own people with her, for the journey and the duration of her stay, wherever she ended up.

And therein lay a small issue—assigning one of his own people to escort her.

Nick groaned. Small issue? Who was he kidding? The only operative he could allocate was the last one he’d ever task with the job. Others were technically available, but had only just finished an intense, physically demanding assignment and needed some downtime in preparation for their next jobs—jobs only they could do.

All of which left that one operative who was champing at the bit for something to do before his next provisionally scheduled job.

Nick would have given his left nut for it to be anyone else.

That man was Rhys Dalton.

Rhys Dalton.

And Taylor Markham.

Rhys Dalton and Taylor Markham living in each other’s pockets for an undefined length of time.

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Possibly even an international incident.

Nick sighed. There was, at least, a tiny glimmer of a silver lining in the thundercloud he was about to unleash on an unsuspecting world—Rhys and Taylor were like oil and water, so there was no way they’d be riding off into the sunset of a happily ever after together.

The idea wasn’t just ridiculous—it was the very definition of impossible.

CHAPTER 4

Considering she wasn’t actually looking in his direction—confirmed by a glance in the long, landscape-oriented mirror in front of him—Rhys Dalton wondered once again how Taylor Markham managed to make him feel as if her eyes were boring into the back of his head with the precision of a laser-guided missile. The sensation had become such a feature of his days since he’d first relocated to the US that he suspected he’d miss it if it went AWOL.

Not that there was much chance of that happening—at least, not while he was working locally and living on site at Spectrum Security Inc.’s Texas-based headquarters. Only his assignments gave him any kind of temporary respite from the waves of not-so-subtle hostility emanating from the stunning woman who was Spectrum’s head of administration, and who was also in charge of managing the ranch’s accommodations.

Leaving aside the bristling hostility, she was also a woman he wouldn’t have minded getting into bed occasionally, had her attitude toward him not made a bulldog chewing a wasp look like the canine epitome of goodwill, bonhomie, and neighborliness. The image was a handy reminder to keep his distance, but there were times he wondered how she might react if he asked her out for a drink, maybe even dinner.

Out of a combination of habit and deeply ingrained training, Rhys scanned the great room again. He was itching to get on with his next assignment. His last job had been short and something of a walk in the park, but the big boss had still insisted he take a break. The break had lasted a little longer than Rhys would have preferred, but it looked like things were moving at last with the job he’d been promised. The summons to the main house had been waiting for him on his return to his quarters after a successful and satisfying session on the company firing range. Although why Taylor was there was anyone’s guess.

No, there was no connection. Couldn’t be. Talk about putting two and two together and getting five. Nick was probably killing two birds with one stone and getting a couple of staff meetings out of the way by inviting them to attend one after the other. That was it. Had to be. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Having completed a three-sixty sweep of his surroundings, Rhys returned his focus to the magnificent mirror above the massive hearth. It allowed him a view of almost everything behind him—that that view included Taylor Markham was a minor detail of little to no consequence.

Yes, you believe that if you want to, bach.