CHAPTER ONE
Wednesday, May 24
As she ascended the stairs of the Art Institute, Stazi prayed she wouldn’t trip. A long dress, high heels, and her natural clumsiness were a perfect recipe for a face-plant and that’s not how she wanted to start her evening. The fact that she was walking through the front and not the back door was reason enough to want to make an elegant entrance.
Most of her time at the museum was spent in the basement, not the McKinlock Court, and she wanted to make a good impression on the director that had offered her the complimentary tickets for the evening’s gala. Van Gogh was being celebrated and she looked forward to an evening celebrating one of her favorite artists.
All she had to do in exchange for the ticket was chat up donors and enlighten them on the importance of the project she’d been recently assigned to. Shilling for art was one of her favorite activities, so helping the committee acquire the needed funds for their Modigliani dream wasn’t a hardship.
Glancing over at the bronze lions that guarded the front entrance, she silently asked for their blessing and then lost her footing. Her hands shot out in an attempt to break her fall. But before she tumbled to the ground, she was swept up and cradled against something solid and warm.
“Gotcha,” a deep voice rumbled against her ear.
Adrenaline shot through her body, sharpening her senses as the scent of the Good Samaritan washed over her. A heady masculine aroma called to something deep in her psyche, and she wondered if Prince Charming had finally shown up. Which was ridiculous, considering everyone knew no such thing existed.
In books—yes.
Movies—certainly.
In real life…never.
A large hand slowly grazed across her body along with a shower of awareness as she was set carefully on her feet. Turning slowly, her eyes moved across an impressive chest that was covered in a beautiful snowy-white shirt and tux jacket. And not some off-the-rack rental number either. Her father, the tailor, would be proud to know that she actually recognized the fine fabric and perfect drape of a custom-made suit.
Silly, inconsequential thoughts. Probably just a way to deal with the light-headed feeling she was experiencing. As her gaze moved higher, she saw a thick, corded neck, sharp jaw, full lips, slightly crooked nose, and the most beautiful aquamarine eyes.
No joke.
His eyes were the color of the Aegean Sea. Well, God certainly pulled out all the stops with this one, she thought wryly. His was the face of an ancient warrior in a Rubens painting. Fierce and filled with determination.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as his hand tightened on her hip. “Tripping on stairs is supposed to happen at the end of the evening, not the beginning.”
A deep laugh fell out the man’s mouth and she found herself joining him. Shifting her hips, she tested his hold and found it uncompromising. Okay, the save and shared laughter were nice, but the hold…a bit strange.
Tingly and warm, but strange.
“Can’t imagine trying to navigate the steps in a long dress and…” He lifted the hem of her dress a few inches and shook his head. “High heels.”
The intimacy of the gesture was surprising enough to make her swallow the snappy comeback that would’ve put him in his place and let him know he couldn’t lift her dress and make comments about her footwear. Damn thing had probably been incinerated by the desire that was burning her brain cells.
Clearing her throat, she looked him in the eye and spoke quietly. “Women navigate all kinds of difficult terrain in high heels.” The moment it came out of her mouth, she realized how lame it sounded.
Unfortunately, it’s all her scrambled mind would allow. Which told her she needed to get away from the man and his pheromones because nothing good was going to happen if she stuck around.
That was a lie—a really good thing could happen—but it wasn’t in her schedule, so she needed to make an escape quickly. She placed her hand on his chest, pushed gently, and felt his hand slip slowly away from her hip. “Thanks again.” She was about to turn around when his hand caught hers and held firmly. Raising an eyebrow, she waited.
“Allow me to escort you into the museum.”
He matched her raised eyebrow and added a smile that she found almost impossible to resist. Just as she was about to respond, a group of large men ascended the stairs, and Prince Charming turned as they called out his name.
“Hank, you already accosting the women?” a dark-haired behemoth called out.
It distracted him enough to release his hold and allowed Stazi to step away. As she made her way up the stairs, she firmed her resolve not to get distracted by a pretty face. The evening wasn’t about romance—it was about work—and the last thing she needed was a man who had the face of a fallen angel, the body of a Greek god, and chivalry worthy of a knight to mess with her plans.
Moving quickly, she made it the top of the staircase and strode into the museum, resisting the urge to turn and take one last look.
This evening’s gala was one of the most popular, so the museum was packed, and she hoped to be swallowed by the crowd before Handsome Hank appeared again. The frantic beating of her heart told her that time spent with the man would only distract her from her career. Which wasn’t something she was going to allow.
The upcoming project she’d been lucky enough to land was going to take up all her time, and a romantic entanglement was the last thing she needed. Especially with someone who had mesmerizing eyes and such a sexy smile. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind and pasted a big smile on her face as she moved through Alsdorf Hall.
The Chinese and Sino-Tibetan Buddhist images that filled the cases made her think of the Terracotta Army of Qin Shi Huang found in the tomb of the First Emperor, which the museum had featured last year. The two art forms couldn’t have been more unrelated, and she had no idea why one had made her think of the other. Maybe her earlier encounter had scrambled her brain more than she thought and she was just now feeling the effects.
“Arrggg,” she quietly growled. Clearing Hank’s deadly smile from her mind, she breathed deeply as she stepped into McKinlock Court. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, cocktail tables were set up around the reflecting pool, and the place was packed with some of Chicago’s most enthusiastic art patrons.
Which was why she was here.
Her assignment for the evening was to schmooze as many of them as she could and get them excited about Amedeo Modigliani. The man who was heading up the committee she’d been invited to join waved and she moved quickly in his direction. Opportunities like this didn’t come along very often in a conservator’s life and she meant to make the most of it. And that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t prove her worth. Lifting the bottom of her dress, she filled her mind with images of the most important man in her life: Amedeo Modigliani, visionary, poet, and philosopher.
***
Hank shook his head as his team of men ascended the stairs. When Jason came up and slapped him on the back with a satisfied grin, he felt like clocking him. Which wasn’t right considering they had saved one another’s lives a couple of times. “Looks like you all got cleaned up and combed your hair,” he commented.
“Who was the woman you had in your clutches?” Jason asked as he straightened his tie.
Hank turned toward his partner and frowned. “Not going to find out now, thanks to your interruption.”
Maddox snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go recon the party and find the woman who has the boss’s boxers in a twist.”
“Nothing is twisted,” Hank responded as his phone buzzed. He slid it out of his pocket and checked the display. “Lucky is running late and says she’ll meet us inside.”
“Let’s do this,” Brandon said as he stepped away from the group. “I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible.”
“Right attitude,” Jason replied.
“I have spent the last seventy-two hours with my brother and his family. Max and Rory are not quiet people. Add to that two-year-old twins and a seven-month-old girl…well, let’s just say I’m ready for some downtime.”
“Bet it makes you miss combat,” Maddox commented.
Brandon let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, life as a Ranger was a lot easier than spending three days with Max and his brood.”
“Let’s get inside,” Hank said. “I bought the tickets as a favor to my mom, but the possibility of making contacts shouldn’t be ignored. There are a lot of potential clients in there and I expect you men to use your good manners.”
“So, you want us to chew with our mouths closed?” Maddox asked.
“Yeah, never hurts when out in public,” Hank commented as he moved toward the stairs with his team surrounding him. This wasn’t his idea of a good time, but like most things, it was just a matter of getting through it unscathed. Which seemed pretty much impossible considering the woman who’d been in his arms earlier.
Never before had he had such a visceral reaction to another human being. The few moments they had spent together made him feel like he’d been hit with a tank, which was crazy considering how small she was. Her head didn’t even come up to his shoulder, but she sure had some nice curves, which he was able to discover due to the light fabric of her dress.
He was like a freaking wolf or something with the animalistic need to mark her beating against his rib cage. Rolling his shoulders, he attempted to determine how strong the feelings were and how much work he was going to have to do keep his impulses under control.
Which was a ridiculous thought. Never in his life had he lost control and he bet the moment they spoke again, he would discover that whatever happened out on the steps was a fluke.
Had to be.
After all, he was a thirty-six-year-old man with a successful business, a ton of control, and absolutely no romantic tendencies. Not once had he ever wanted to run after a woman and he didn’t expect to start now. It was clear that whatever crazy thoughts and feelings the woman evoked were probably a result of being overtired.
As he listened to his men talk, he decided that not having a day off in more months than he could count had finally caught up him. His years on the Teams had taught him the importance of taking downtime when you could, and he’d ignored that lesson over the last year as business at SAI skyrocketed.
No man could function successfully as a SEAL if he didn’t take time to recharge, and that was true about owning a business as well. Operating at that intense level for long periods of time took its toll on a person’s mind and body, so downtime in between missions was important. Starting up the SAI office hadn’t given him much over the last three years, and clearly, he was operating at a diminished capacity.
If he was having possessive thoughts about a woman he’d spent less than two minutes with, then what other explanation could there be?
Which he knew was a long-ass rationalization for what was probably nothing more than meeting a beautiful woman. And she was…fucking beautiful.
Why, he couldn’t say.
Her features separately were unremarkable, but something about the combination had him enthralled. Which was not a word he’d ever used to describe his reaction to anything. Least of all a woman. Probably the next time he saw her, he’d figure out that she wasn’t anything all that special.
Except the memory of her scent called to something primal in his brain, informing him he’d met his mate. Scraping his hand down his face, he realized some time off needed to happen soon. Because thoughts about how a woman smelled and how she was his other half sure as shit let him know he needed to get himself together.
As the team walked through the entrance of the museum, he noticed the wary looks they received. Put four hardened spec op warriors in suits and it didn’t do much to cover up the true nature of who they were. Sheer size alone would make them a noticeable group. Add to that the way they held themselves and it wasn’t hard to figure out what they were.
They certainly didn’t blend in with the moneyed crowd that packed the hallways, but he didn’t really care. It wasn’t like they were on an op, so going unnoticed wasn’t the objective. Making his mother happy was, and that’s exactly what he’d done when he’d bought a table at tonight’s shindig. If his team had to be dragged along to fill it, then so much the better. The men walking beside him would take a bullet for him and tonight’s gala was the metaphorical bullet the team was taking.
“Think they have beer or are we going to be forced to drink some girly bullshit wine?” Maddox asked.
Jason threw a disapproving glare at the newest member of the team. “Don’t be an asshole.”
Maddox snapped off a quick salute and laughed. “That’s not what you said when I dragged your ass out of the jungle and then humped your shot-up body to the exfil point.”
“That was then and this is now,” Jason responded. “We’re representing the company and you will drink whatever girly-assed shit they’re offering and smile.”
“Yes, sir,” Maddox replied.
“After we’re done here, we can go to the Local Option and I’ll buy you guys a couple of rounds,” Hank said as he looked around.
“Hooyah,” Jason and Maddox responded.
“I’m in,” Brandon added.
Hank looked over at Max Bishop’s baby brother and thought about the founder and CEO of SAI. The man had been not only a teammate but also the person who gave him someplace to go when he’d been medically retired.
After he’d separated from the Navy, he had no idea what his next move was going to be, so when Max offered him a job, he jumped at it. SAI had proven to be his saving grace, and the year he’d spent in San Diego had let him adjust to civilian life and learn a new business. When they had enough clients in Chicago to sustain an office, he’d done the unthinkable and come home.
Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d end up in Illinois, but here he was, living an hour away from where he grew up. And loving it.
Which was damn surprising.
When he’d left for the Naval Academy at eighteen, he never figured he’d return and build a life here in Chicago. Truth was, he never thought much beyond the adventure that was in front of him. And what an adventure it had been. Eleven years in the Navy had allowed him to fulfill every dream he’d ever had. Team life and being a SEAL had been better than he ever imagined and damn satisfying.
But like most things, it couldn’t last forever. A man’s body and psyche could withstand only so much war, and he’d probably gotten out just in time. The nine years he’d spent actively on the Teams had been intense and rewarding. But there was a price that every man paid for being downrange and he was no different.
Direct action missions had not been the exception to his time as a SEAL, but the rule. Terrorism didn’t take a day off and neither did the threats. There was always a hot spot that needed attention and…speaking of hot spots, the woman he’d saved earlier was two feet away. Okay, saved might not be the right word, but he’d certainly helped her not trip and fall on her face.
Just as he was about to move in her direction, a tall older man took her arm and led her across the courtyard. Hank tracked her movements until she disappeared, and then quickly surveyed his response and found his heart beating rapidly, his hands tingling, and crazy thoughts racing around in his head.
Okay, still happening, he thought. A tac plan to get himself in her presence quickly formed, and just as he was about to step away, a large hand landing on his arm stopped him. Looking over, he saw Jason shaking his head. “What?” he barked out.
“Be cool. Stalking across this patio with that look on your face isn’t going to get you what you want.”
Letting out a breath, he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”
“I’d say by the looks of it, a small woman is what’s wrong with you.”
Before Jason could say more, Lucky came up to the group in her usual frantic motion. The woman’s movements always reflected her fast-moving mind, and being around her often felt like being in the middle of a small hurricane. Hank noticed that she’d gotten herself gussied up and appreciated that she had made the effort. Her usual attire of jeans and hoodies had been retired for a dress and she looked great. “Thanks for showing, Lucky.”
“No problem. My best friend is here and, as soon as I get a drink, I’m going to find her.”
Maddox slung his arm over Lucky’s shoulder and gave her a doubtful look. “Your best friend runs in this moneyed crowd?”
“Yes. For your information, my best friend is a highly-respected conservator. She actually got asked to be a part of the committee that is authenticating all the Modiglianis the museum owns.”
“Speak English,” Brandon said.
“Stazi is an art conservator and a restorer. Which means she researches, documents, and tries to prevent further damage to art. Her specialty is paintings, particularly those from the twentieth century. Being invited to join the committee is a huge honor.”
“Is she cute and does she like big, handsome, bearded men?” Maddox asked.
Lucky slid her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Yes, she’s beautiful, but there’s no way I’d let you get your paws on her.”
“I’m wounded,” he replied with a smile.
“Doubt it,” Lucky responded. “You’re a numbers man, not one interested in quality.”
The group erupted in laughter and then moved in the direction of one of the bars set up next to the reflecting pool.
Hank adjusted his tie and stood in line as he looked out over the crowd. Hearing a squeal, he turned and saw Lucky open her arms as the woman who had him half-crazy walked into them. This was Lucky’s best friend?
Watching the women hug and then start speaking to one other in rapid-fire Italian made him chuckle. Which made the woman look up, and when their gazes caught, he was locked in. The sounds of the gathering disappeared and all he could hear was his heart thudding against his chest. Her chocolate eyes held him captive, and when her lush mouth formed a smile, he knew he was going to enjoy ravaging the hell out it when the time came.
Which could take a day or a month, even a year to accomplish. Didn’t much matter to him because whatever was happening wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Taking a step forward, he put himself in her personal space. “It’s nice to see you again. I never got a chance to introduce myself earlier.” He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her soft, warm skin. When her eyes grew large and her pulse quickened, he knew she felt something too. “I’m Hank Coleman.” He heard Lucky snort and decided to ignore it. Didn’t matter if everyone in the place thought he was an idiot.
“Hank, this is Anastasia Ivanov…my best friend.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Anastasia Ivanov.” When she slipped her hand away, he noticed it was shaking.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hank,” she replied quietly.
Someone called her name, and Hank looked up and gave the older man who wanted her attention a hard gaze. When she started to move away, he felt like pulling her back. “Anastasia…”
“I have to go,” she responded before giving him a small smile. After she spoke to Lucky, she walked away.
Watching her disappear into the crowd made him feel uncomfortable, and his urge to follow her almost had his feet moving. When a hand landed on his shoulder—again—he knew one of the guys was telling him subtly that it wouldn’t be his best move. He let out a long breath and pulled himself together. “Let’s all get a drink and find our table.” Lucky stared at him like he’d just sprouted five horns and he decided to ignore it. It wasn’t like he could explain what was happening, so he wasn’t going to try.
Maddox handed him a glass of scotch. Hank took a healthy slug and waited for the burn to hit the back of his throat. When it did, he reminded himself that he was a gifted tactician and Anastasia Ivanov would soon realize that. They would eventually spend time together, no matter what Lucky’s opinion was on the whole thing. And Lord knew she’d have a ton of them. Just like she did on every other subject that came up.
“That’s my best friend, Hank. So, whatever is whirling around in your mind better be about hearts and cupids and not some bullshit one-night thing.”
He lifted his glass of scotch and took another slug. “The moment I get ahold of her, I’m not letting go. So, don’t worry about my intentions.”
When she gave him a hard glare and motioned between her eyes and his, he let out a laugh. Lucky could keep as close an eye on him as she wanted. Didn’t change his plans. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he planned on holding on, because as far as he could tell that was going to be the only solution to his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. Straightening his shoulders, he looked around the garden and tried to get another glimpse of her before everyone went in for dinner. When he came up empty, he decided not to be disappointed because eventually, he would have her to himself and be able to look his fill.
No other outcome was acceptable.