He was going to make her crazy. Phoebe watched Jesse as he moved through the ballroom. He was dressed in a tux and looked so predatory she almost didn’t recognize him. She’d only seen him in the building when they were working before. This was Jesse in the field, and he was a gorgeous beast.

“Ms. Graham, is it?” A man in an expensive tux approached her, his silver hair slicked back. He was at least six foot two and lean, obviously a man who cared about his appearance.

She glanced at his nametag. Dale Albertson, assistant to US Senator McDonald. Now she was intrigued. She put on her game face. In this place, she wasn’t a woman trying to figure out how to let go of the best man she’d ever met. God, she included Jamie in that list. Jesse Murdoch was the best person she’d met. But here she wasn’t Jesse’s or Jamie’s. She belonged to the Agency, to the United States of America, and she was deeply interested in why a senator was here without the backing of the Agency.

She smiled at Mr. Dale Albertson and gave him her best British accent. She’d traveled on a British passport, and according to all of her security paperwork was a marketing consultant from London specializing in the energy industry. “Yes. Phoebe Graham. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Her British accent was perfect, of course.

Dale held out a hand and she took it, fighting to hide her distaste when he moved past professional. He covered her hand with both of his, holding it just a moment too long to be anything but a come-on. “You’re with the crazy king, aren’t you? I have to say, we’re all curious about Kamdar.”

Which meant her cover was holding and her brother had been the paranoid son of a bitch she loved him for being. She was proud to be his sister, but for now she was another woman entirely. “The king is a brilliant man. He’s put his whole country to work with his initiatives. If he’s correct about his potential output, he could fundamentally change the way people use energy in his part of the world.”

“If he’s correct. I seem to remember he claimed he was close once and then there was that terrible explosion. I guess that kind of thing is really better left to the First World.”

She studied him for a moment. His lips had curled up slightly as though he knew something he thought she didn’t. “I’m not concerned about a repeat of that particular incident. The king learned a lot from it. It hasn’t taken him long at all to get his lab working again.”

The explosion in Loa Mali hadn’t been about worker error. It had been an act of corporate sabotage perpetrated by an ex-CIA operative. Eli Nelson had been turned years before by the shadowy group known as The Collective. They were the elite of the elite, the wealthiest men in the world, and they hadn’t taken kindly to the king of Loa Mali potentially killing their oil revenues.

Eli Nelson was dead thanks to the Taggarts, but someone would quickly take his place.

The thing they’d been missing was the government tie. Phoebe had been able to tie The Collective to various criminal organizations and foreign countries, but she knew they would also have a group of US politicians under their sway. She had to wonder if she wasn’t looking at one. Well, at his assistant anyway.

“We’ll see about that. Why is a man who is determined to change the world over to solar and wind power here at an oil conference?” He leaned in, just a little flirty. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure.” A little flirtation might help. She wanted information, too. “I’d love some champagne.”

He held up a hand and immediately a tuxedoed waiter turned to bring them glasses of champagne. She took hers and held it to her chest. She wore a designer black dress that Jesse had claimed should be illegal, but then he was the gorgeous pervert who had promised to fig her if she didn’t behave. Yes, she knew what that was. She read. A lot, lately. And every damn hero turned into a blond hottie with a Western accent. She pretended she was looking at Dale and let her chest thrust out. Jesse watched her from across the room, and the minute she turned his way, his eyes flared. Because Jesse liked her boobs. A lot. “This is an energy conference, Mr. Albertson. The king has every right to be here.”

“Energy in this part of the world means oil.”

“It doesn’t have to. Not if my boss has his way.”

He tipped back his champagne, swallowing the whole glass in quick order and grabbing another before the waiter could move away. “There are a few people who think he shouldn’t be here.”

There had been more than a subtle hint of threat in those words. “Really? Do you think he’s in danger?”

Albertson glanced around the room, his eyes shifting until they found Kamdar. The king was holding court, his bevy of gorgeous ladies surrounding him and laughing at his very horrible jokes. She was a little surprised to see Erin was hovering around the king. “I think Kamdar needs to play ball if he wants to keep his position.”

“His position is hereditary and they don’t play ball there. Cricket is really more popular in Loa Mali.” She was starting to feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. He was more inebriated than she’d counted on, and she couldn’t take him out with a quick uppercut. She was supposed to be a marketing consultant, and women in this part of the world weren’t exactly smiled on for kicking ass.

Albertson nodded. “Funny girl. What do you say we go back to my room? I would do just about anything to get out of this hotel, but apparently it’s the only place where we can get a damn drink in this country.”

She was tempted to lead him out into the city anyway. Even slight inebriation in public could get a citizen arrested in Dubai. It might be fun to watch this dipshit rot in a Middle Eastern prison for a while.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t dressed for the streets of Dubai since a woman could get arrested for showing her knees, so that little pleasure would have to wait. “I’m afraid I’m supposed to stay here at the conference. My boss was very insistent we all stay and do our jobs.”

“Which is what?” He was openly looking at her breasts now and Jesse had noticed.

He started across the ballroom, but luckily Simon was there to stop him from doing something stupid. She breathed a sigh of relief as the big Brit put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder and started talking to him.

“Phoebe, that’s the senior assistant to Senator McDonald you’ve ensnared with your far too on-display bosom.” Ten’s voice came over the tiny communications device in her ear. Ten and Hutch were watching from the suite, having cut into the security feeds. She could hear them, but she couldn’t directly respond since she wasn’t alone. The small bug planted in the broach on her left side allowed them to hear everything going on. She simply looked to her left, acknowledging the camera there to let him know she’d heard.

“I’m here to help the king with packaging and marketing his product to the outside world. As an alternative energy source, I’ve got to convince the big oil boys that we’re not really a threat. After all, they control the world when you think about it. We just want a tiny part of the market.”

“To begin with,” Albertson shot back. “You know Kamdar isn’t the first person to try this. His crap will go the same way the electric car went. He’s a dreamer if he thinks the cartels will allow him to have any kind of a foothold.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that they don’t get to have a say in it. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but hybrid vehicles are very popular these days.”

“Because we allowed it,” he said, his voice taking on a nasty edge.

“Oh, I like that ‘we.’ That’s a very interesting statement,” Ten said.

“I always love the personal pronouns, too, boss.” Hutch put in his two cents.

She needed to bring the testosterone level down a bit. She smiled up at the senator’s aide. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. I did work on a few of the hybrid marketing plans in Europe. We did spectacularly well with women in Southern Europe. I’ve found the key is to give them a choice of pretty colors and have a proper celebrity endorsement. You have to get Clooney for Italy. He could sell anything there. They love him.”

The man stared at her for a second and then laughed, that menace in him gone and the drunken playboy back. “It’s good to know American star power is still at work.”

“Get him talking about the senator, sister,” Ten said into her ear.

She really wished she could flip him off. She knew how to do her damn job. “So you work for a real senator?”

He leaned in, giving her what he probably thought were sexy eyes, but they mostly made him look sleepy. “As real as they come. I don’t know how closely you Brits follow American politics, but my boss is going to make a real run at the White House in a few years. Senator McDonald from the great state of Texas.”

That was what all the news stations believed. Hank McDonald was eyeing the presidency. He was an older man with all the charm of Clinton and the backing and power base of a Bush. “What is the US government doing here?”

“We’re not here in a strictly professional capacity. We’re just looking out for US interests. That’s kind of my job.”

“Is it?”

He looked left and then right and leaned in closer. “I watch out for my country, if you know what I mean.”

She heard Ten snort. “I do believe he’s going to try to convince you to sleep with him because he’s a spy.”

“Well, you know that’s the only reason I joined up,” Hutch replied. “I was promised an enormous amount of tail.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the ballroom door opening and a group of men in traditional Arab robes and keffiyehs covering their heads entering the room. She turned to get a good look at the new guys. “I thought you were an assistant to Senator McDonald.”

“That’s just my cover. I really work a much more important job. Ah, the Saudis are here. I’ll have to set up a meeting. The al Fareeds are old friends.”

“Really?” That was interesting. They were represented by Ibrahim and Hani. From the reports she’d compiled, she knew they were brothers, both in their forties, and they had taken over many of their family’s business operations recently. Like many wealthy Saudi sons, they’d been educated in the west. They’d both attended Oxford. Ibrahim had graduated with a master’s in world politics. Hani had a degree in business administration. The brothers had been back in Saudi for the better part of two decades and seemed uninterested in anything but business. On the surface, they were perfect family men who eschewed all the decadence their wealth could afford them.

“Yes, good men. Reasonable men, unlike your boss. I think you should really think about changing jobs.” He winked at her. “I can talk to the senator about finding you a place that will really offer you job growth. I think you’ll find Loa Mali is a dead end. Trust me. I know things other people don’t know.”

She didn’t like how certain he seemed. “I’m always on the lookout for a better opportunity. Any smart girl is. Perhaps you could introduce me to your friends.”

She didn’t want Jesse anywhere near the man who tortured him.

And killed her husband. She might be standing in the same room as the man who killed her husband and the only thing she could think about was protecting Jesse from him. She should be ready for vengeance, but all she could think about was what she could lose.

Didn’t Jamie deserve more?

He frowned. “Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You know how your boss loves women and surrounds himself with them at all times? The al Fareed brothers are pretty much the opposite. They have wives, but they don’t speak, if you know what I mean. They stay in the home and those men don’t party.”

“But they’re friends with the senator?”

“More like business associates.”

“The senator is actually in the business? I thought he was on some committee.”

“He is, but hey, there’s always money to be made. Everyone knows that.” His fingers ran up her arm. “Let’s head back to my room and we’ll talk about it some more.”

“Let’s let Murdoch go insane on his ass,” Hutch chuckled in her ear. “It’s been a while since I saw some blood sport.”

“Phoebe, you are not to leave that damn room. Am I understood?” Ten’s voice held no humor.

Like she would docilely walk away with her would-be rapist. Not likely. Still, she would love to put a bug in his room. She wanted to know what kind of money the senator thought he was going to make while here. No. She would just have to make sure the poor man couldn’t possibly perform. “How about one more drink? I’ll get it this time. I think I want something stronger than champagne.”

He glanced back down at her breasts and she knew she had him. “Of course, gorgeous. A whiskey on the rocks for me.”

She winked his way and started toward the open bar. “I know what I’m doing, Ten.”

She heard him curse but then came a grudging, “Do you have everything you need? Erin? Can you back her up?”

“Already there.” Erin strode up to the bar. She looked more sophisticated than normal. Erin was a boots and jeans kind of girl, but Phoebe could admit that she cleaned up quite nicely. She wore a green gown that was fairly modest, but there was no way to truly cover Erin’s curves. The emerald color complemented her skin. “I’ve got everything we need to have a fun time.”

Phoebe ordered the drinks and almost didn’t see the moment Erin tipped her hand over the whiskey glass and poured the roofie in. “Want to have a threesome?”

Erin grinned. “Oh, and I thought I was going to get through this entire conference without a single ménage à trois with a douchebag I would rather punch in the face than look at. Thanks, friend.”

They picked up the drinks and started to make their way back.

“Phoebe, you get in, you plant a bug and you get out,” Ten’s voice commanded. “Right now Jesse’s working with Simon on something, but the minute he gets back he’s going to look for you. I swear to god this is the last time I take a couple with me on assignment, especially where the male is a possessive caveman. Make it quick.”

Albertson turned and his eyes went wide. “Hey, who’s your friend?”

Erin’s lips curled up in a surprisingly seductive grin. Apparently there was a reason Tag had hired her that had nothing to do with her ability to kick ass. “Phoebe and I both work for Kash, but he’s busy.” She looked back to where Kamdar was holding court. “He’s got enough female attention, don’t you think?”

He licked his lips right before downing the entire glass of whiskey. “I think he’s got more than enough. Come on, girls. Let’s go party like real Americans.”

She caught Theo watching them as they began to walk out of the ballroom. He was practically staring a hole through Erin, but he held his ground. His face flushed slightly, and she wondered what her brother was saying into Theo’s ear. Poor Ten. He was used to his band of merry men who had each other’s backs, and the biggest drama they had was where to buy beer. There was a reason he never worked with couples. No matter how professional, they couldn’t stay cool and collected when the one they loved was in danger. Theo and Erin weren’t a couple, but it was obvious Theo was interested and not in sharing her with some politician.

“I’ve got some good Scotch in my room. Nothing but the best,” Albertson said, starting to slur his words.

“What floor are you on?” Phoebe asked as they walked into the elevator. She needed to get him as close to his room as possible before he couldn’t walk on his own anymore. Even in the hotel, there could be issues with anything considered lewd behavior, including men and women touching in the halls.

“Five. Jeez, you’ve got nice tits, babe.” He stumbled into the elevator and hit the button. Luckily, they were alone. He threw an arm around Phoebe’s shoulders and another around Erin’s. “You two are hot. Are you going to kiss?”

Erin nodded. “I’m so much more likely to kiss her than you.”

He just sighed. “Show me your tits.”

Oh, he was a charmer. “As soon as we make it to your room. I need to relax a little. You can help me with that, right?”

His eyes were starting to close. “Yeah. I can help. You just stick with a winner. I’m a winner.”

His head fell forward and Phoebe groaned under his weight. For a slender dude, he was solid.

“I’m going to need a room number,” Erin said quietly, keeping her head down. “What’s his name?”

“Albertson. He’s going to be listed with the senator’s party,” Phoebe said, doing the same. There were cameras in the elevators.

“Chill, sweetheart,” Hutch said, his voice smooth over the comm. “I believe you will find that the cameras in this elevator and on the fifth floor are going to have a little trouble. You have five minutes and then I can’t stop them from coming back on. You get in and out fast, you understand, Thelma and Louise?”

Ten took over. “He’s in 5105. It’s four doors down from the elevator you’re in. Take a left and move it. I don’t want anyone to remember you tomorrow. That roofie should erase the last thirty minutes or so. If anyone remembers you walking out with him, you were helping him to his room.”

“Understood.” The doors opened and she and Erin started down the hall.

“I think by calling us Thelma and Louise, Hutch was giving me permission to shoot this guy in the balls.”

Erin was way too eager to shoot dudes in the balls. It seemed to be a viable pastime for her. “I think he was trying to tell us to not go over the Grand Canyon in a Thunderbird. Damn he’s heavy. Can you get the key card?”

“I knew you’d make me do the nasty stuff.” They made it to the room Ten had told them to go to. The halls were quiet and they weren’t going to have a better shot at getting through this than now. Erin reached into the completely deadweight asshole’s pants pocket and came back with the key card. She swiped the card and they stumbled through, Phoebe turning and locking the door behind him.

Erin let Albertson drop right to the floor.

Phoebe sighed. “We have to get him to the bed.”

“Why?” Erin was already moving through the room, checking the closets and the bathroom. “He looks so peaceful there.”

She stepped over Albertson’s body and prayed Erin hadn’t actually killed him. She wouldn’t put it past Erin to overdose the bastard. She reached into her small bag and pulled out two tiny bugs. “You see anything?”

Erin stepped out of the bathroom, holding a brown pill jar. “He takes the little blue pill. So much for our big stud.”

“That doesn’t matter.” And it wasn’t totally surprising. She moved into the living area of the suite. It looked like Albertson was bunking by himself, which likely meant he really was high up in the senator’s organization. She glanced around, looking for the best place to plant the bugs. There was a small sitting area and a desk with a laptop. “Check and see if that’s password protected.”

She slipped the tiny listening device under the coffee table, placing the sticky piece to the inside. It would capture any conversations that occurred in this part of the suite.

“Sorry,” Erin said, closing the laptop again. “It’s locked up tight. I’m sure Hutch could break it, but I’m not exactly Suzy Hacker. I could smash it if you like. It’s fun to break things.”

Phoebe shook her head as she walked through to the bedroom. She flicked on the light and strode across to the bed. She ran a hand inside the headboard, looking for the best place to situate the device. “You planning on breaking Theo?”

She couldn’t help it. She knew she shouldn’t pick on the redhead, but it was so easy to do.

Erin showed up in the doorway and entered the bedroom, going straight for Albertson’s briefcase that was placed on the bedroom desk. She rifled through it. “I will if he gives me more trouble.”

Phoebe placed the bug and held it to make sure it stuck. “He’s not a bad-looking kid.”

That was an understatement. He was a young Ian Taggart, so Theo looked a little like a Viking god.

“Kid is the vital word in that sentence.” Erin sifted through a stack of papers. “He’s twenty-nothing for god’s sake.”

“He just turned twenty-three. You’re not that much older.” She glanced around the space. They had roughly two and a half minutes before they needed to be gone.

“I’m thirty-four, and I’ve seen more in my lifetime than that little boy has ever imagined. He’s got mommy issues. I don’t need a kid.” There was something hollow about the way she said it, but then she shook her head. “Now, that pretty king on the other hand is definitely on the table.”

Phoebe hoped Ten enjoyed listening to Dale Albertson and the inevitable bevy of hookers he brought to the suite. She checked one last time to make sure it was secure. “Really? He doesn’t make you think of a walking venereal disease? Don’t get me wrong. He’s hot, but he also travels with a harem.”

Erin didn’t seem fazed. “I’m just trying to scratch an itch. I shove a condom on his probably lovely penis and we’re good to go. He looks like a man who knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t look sticky, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” She groaned a little when she realized they couldn’t leave Albertson on the floor. If they were going to keep up the story that they’d been helping a drunk dude get to bed, they should probably actually get him there. “We need to get him on the bed.”

Erin shoved the papers back in. “I’ll get him. So I was talking about sticky dudes and how Kamdar is really the perfect guy for me to play around with. Your boy is a perfect example of sticky.”

“He is not.” Jesse was scrupulously clean. And he kept her clean. She could still feel his hands soaping her body and washing her hair. His fingers had run all along her scalp, relaxing her. He’d even dried her off and made sure she was warm.

Erin stalked out and it only took a second before she walked back in, hauling him by one arm. Phoebe had to give it to her. Erin was a strong woman. “He is stuck to you like glue. When you walk into a room, bam, he sticks.”

He did kind of make sure he always had a hand on her when they were together. It was nice. It made her feel safe. Protected. Loved. She didn’t want to lose it. Didn’t want to lose him. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It just means he cares.”

She huffed a little as she leaned down and then hefted Albertson up on the bed. “I don’t want anyone to care. I’ve done the married thing before. I won’t again. So pretty boy Theo can find some other idiot to play his games with.”

“I don’t think he’s trying to play a game.”

“It’s always a game, Phoebe. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

A minute and a half. She would have to figure out Erin’s damage another time. “Time to head out. We need to get back to the party. The cameras come on soon.”

Erin nodded and pulled the covers over him. “Let’s do it.” She turned and then stopped. “Shit.”

Phoebe turned and saw what Erin was looking at. Right there on the dresser was a newspaper. The Dallas Morning News. She recognized the issue. It had a picture of the husk that was Sanctum after the bombing and a shot of Jesse Murdoch in all his blond glory.

Phoebe stepped up and looked down. The article was marked, certain information circled, and even worse, there was a notepad beside it with two names written on it. Ian Taggart and Tennessee G. Smith.

She heard the sound of Erin’s phone as it took one and then two pictures, and then she felt a tug on her arm. “Time to go.”

She let Erin lead her out of the room, her heart racing.

Someone was on to them.

* * * *

“I’m not a complete moron,” Jesse said as he pushed through the doors into the suite.

Simon closed the doors behind them. “Funny, because you do seem to be acting that way. Were you or were you not about to accost your girlfriend in the middle of the ballroom?”

“I wasn’t going to accost Phoebe. I don’t really know what that means. But I was going to castrate that son of a bitch.” He knew how to do it, too. He’d castrated a couple of bulls in his time. The trick was to do it quick, before the damn thing knew what was happening. He wouldn’t be cruel when he did it. He would be as humane as possible, but that little pecker wouldn’t be rubbing against Jesse Murdoch’s girl again.

“Yes, cutting that man’s balls off would absolutely have helped our mission,” Simon replied drolly.

“He was looking at her breasts.” Those were his breasts. He took care of those breasts. He loved them and rubbed them and sucked them, and they were fucking his.

“I believe that was the point of putting them on display. She was trying to get attention so you and I could look around and attempt to uncover your former torturer. And her dress is quite modest by Western standards.”

“Well, by my standards, he was looking at her breasts.” He knew he was being stubborn, but the idea of that man getting his hands on Phoebe made him sick. She was precious. She shouldn’t have to get pawed by some man who didn’t love her.

He was the only one who got to paw her, damn it.

“I doubt he’s looking at her breasts now,” Simon replied.

Jesse sent his partner a nasty look and forced his way into the control room. “Where is she?”

Hutch had a Red Vine licorice sticking out of his mouth like a cigarette. His setup was neat, but it was obvious the man had a sweet tooth. Besides the pack of Red Vines, there was a dish of Tootsie Rolls and another of peppermints. He reached up and pulled the licorice out as he frowned, pointing at the bank of laptops he had going. “She’s fine. Well, I’m pretty sure she’s fine. I had to work a little magic and get those cameras to go wonky. The guys in security are probably flipping out by now.”

Ten stepped in, a bottle of water in his hand. “Their time’s up. Bring the cameras back online. Security can buy that the system has a glitch for only so long. They’ll be on their way to fix it if we don’t get them back online.”

Phoebe was out there and the only thing protecting her was the camera blackout. “No. Wait until she calls back.”

Hutch ignored him, hitting the button that brought the cameras back up.

Phoebe and Erin were in the elevator, speaking animatedly. Hutch hit a button that put their comms on speaker.

“How much had that guy had to drink?” Erin asked.

Phoebe shook her head. “Enough that he was disgusting. Someone should talk to the senator about him. That was embarrassing.”

Jesse breathed a sigh of relief. Their heads were turned up as though they couldn’t care less if a camera caught them. Just two women who had been hit on by a jerk. They’d still done the right thing by making sure he got to his room.

Ten put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s a pro. You have to let her do her job. You can’t pull the caveman act on her. She’s smart and quick and she can take care of herself. I did you a solid by having Weston get you out of there.” He leaned over and touched a button on Hutch’s system. “You two come on up. We’re good for the evening. We’ll let Murdoch sift through some of the footage and see if we’ve got a lead on anything.”

Over the elevator feed he heard Erin say, “I’m tired. Let’s tell the boss we’re done for the night.”

Phoebe nodded. “After dealing with that wanker, I just want to go up to the suite and forget men exist at all. I can’t believe I left London for this.”

He wasn’t about to let her forget. He intended to make sure she knew he existed. He sighed and stepped back. He’d damn near fucked up everything. “I’m sorry.”

Ten’s green eyes were icy cold as he looked him over. “Next time you’ll be out. I’ll ship you back to Taggart and you’ll do this job from several thousand miles away.”

He deserved that. “Yes, sir.”

Ten softened marginally. “I didn’t like the way he looked at her either, but I’ve had years to get used to the idea that my sister has a job. You don’t, so you better hurry up and get with the program. And we men stick together on my team. No one’s going to mention that Murdoch here has a possessive caveman side and a dick with zero IQ.”

Hutch grinned around a licorice stick. “It’s forever our secret.”

Jesse nodded to let Ten know he was grateful. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to look through the footage.”

Hours and hours of his life would be spent sifting through the surveillance footage they’d gathered from both the security cameras and the personal equipment they’d been wearing. He’d learned that espionage was a lot like soldiering—hours of tedious, careful work, and then some shit exploded.

He stepped away and looked out over the balcony. The moon hung low, illuminating the beauty of the Persian Gulf. He felt someone step up, and there was no question who it would be. “How do you deal with it, Si?”

“Having my wife in harm’s way from time to time?”

“Yeah.”

“Mostly she’s behind a computer, but when she’s out in the field, I have to trust her. I’m almost always out in the field. She’s got to deal with that every day. Chelsea is smart and she won’t take chances she doesn’t have to. You’ve got another problem entirely.”

He knew what his real problem was. “She’s already lost one husband.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t spend my time railing at her for scaring you. She’s doing her job. Praise her for it.”

“He touched her.”

“And she handled it.” Simon seemed determined to be the voice of reason. “She wasn’t alone. She had Erin to back her up, and for all of Erin’s foibles, she’s a damn fine agent. She wouldn’t leave a teammate in the field to save her own life. They can handle things.”

It would be easier if Phoebe was behind a desk like Chelsea, or so pregnant she couldn’t work like Charlotte. Maybe Ian had the right idea. Just keep her pregnant so he could keep her safe. Except pregnancy wasn’t exactly totally safe, and then there were kids. Kids weren’t safe. Kids were small, crazed maniacs who thought playing in traffic and eating shit they shouldn’t was fun. Then he would spend his every waking hour terrified he would lose not only Phoebe but his kids, too.

Nope. Tag was an idiot.

“Are you all right?” Simon asked.

“I was just thinking about family.”

“And it made you turn slightly green?” Simon laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t think about it. Just do it. There are no guarantees in life except that if you waste it, you’ll regret it. Take it all—the good, the bad, the risky. This is yours and it’s all you have. Having a family is the most frightening thing in the world if you really let yourself think about it. All that pain waiting out there if you lose one of them. And still, it’s meaningless if you don’t have them. We find our families, Jesse. Some of us are lucky to find them when we’re born, but a lot of us have to look. So be grateful and welcome every single person who becomes family to you. Hold them close and yes, mourn them when they’re gone, so at the end of all of this you know you had a life.”

He took a long breath, forcing his emotions deep because he was going to do everything he could to have those troublesome, frightening children with Phoebe. Neither one of them had good parents, but it didn’t matter because he did have a family to rely on. When he had questions, he could ask Simon or Jake or Alex. His children wouldn’t be alone like he’d been. They would be surrounded by cousins who would occasionally have to help fend off office attacks if their Uncle Ten and Uncle Tag couldn’t get along.

He just had to convince Phoebe it was worth the risk.

“It doesn’t look like our night is over.” Hutch pointed to his computer screen as Jesse turned back around. “Who is that, boss?”

Ten stepped up behind them. “Can’t tell. Do we have a better camera angle?”

Hutch hit a couple of buttons, grimacing. “Nah. I don’t have anything that picks up his face. Phoebe and Erin were moving toward the elevators when he stopped them.”

Jesse moved to his side, trying to get a good view of the feed. At least she was back in the ballroom. There was less chance of something bad happening to her with the entire conference crowd surrounding them.

On the camera feed, Phoebe was talking to a man in a thawb, the traditional Arab robe. It was long and covered every part of the man’s body with the exception of his hands. His head was covered in a keffiyeh. He was standing right in front of Phoebe, but Jesse couldn’t see his face. Phoebe’s was clear on the camera and there wasn’t a hint of distress. She seemed calm and pleasant.

“Can you get audio?” Ten asked.

Hutch nodded and Phoebe’s voice came over the line. “Thank you so much for asking. I am well. There was a moment’s distress, but it’s all been handled.”

“I saw you leave with the American. He was not in his right head.” The voice was dark, rich. It sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine. It made his stomach curl.

“He was drunk.” Erin stood beside Phoebe. “It was embarrassing. We couldn’t find his friends so we got him upstairs.”

“Did you?” That deep voice asked. “Clever girls, but you should be careful here. Next time, ask a man to help you. You shouldn’t be required to see that part of the world. It could also give the rest of the attendees the wrong impression of your character. They might not understand that you were trying to help. They would only see two women alone with a man who is not their husband.”

Jesse forced himself to stay standing. It was right there, the impulse to hide, to make himself as small as possible so no one noticed him. He could hide from that voice. It didn’t have to find him.

“Thank you, Mr. al Fareed.” Phoebe gave the man a polite smile and elbowed Erin, who looked like she wanted to say something.

Don’t say anything. Don’t talk. Don’t argue. Just survive.

The man’s head bent slightly, as though acknowledging her gratitude. “You are with the Loa Mali contingent?”

“Yes, sir.” Phoebe’s accent was crisp, and he liked the fact that it was one more bit of armor she could put between her and the man in front of her. “My friend and I are in public relations and marketing for the king.”

“He’s an interesting man.” Al Fareed bowed slightly. “And he has interesting friends. Be careful. It would be a shame for nice women like yourselves to get caught in a war.”

“A war?”

“Business is always war and war is always a matter of business. Don’t ever forget that. And stay away from the Americans. They drink too much. Men, I’ve found, are nothing but dogs to be trained. That one needs a tighter leash. Good evening.”

He stepped out of the frame, his face never turning to the camera.

“Jesse? Are you all right?” He heard Simon talking, but it sounded far away.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he found himself running. There were shouts behind him, but he paid them no mind. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice in his head. That voice led him nowhere. There was a new voice that shouted for him to take action.

He ran out of the suite and headed for the stairs. They would be so much quicker than the elevators. His team might catch him waiting for the elevators. They wouldn’t understand. The devil had to be caught. The devil wouldn’t be caught with cameras. He could manipulate those. He could only be caught by someone who knew him.

His mind raced as he flew down the stairs. One flight and then two and three and four. He lost track of how many. All that mattered was getting to the ballroom and unmasking the devil, showing him for the true evil he was.

His eyes caught on the door that led to the ballroom and he burst through it.

Sound and lights hit him. He was suddenly surrounded and in a sea of white.

His breath shuddered, but he forced some calm to slip over him. There were a few business suits, but mostly the entire room consisted of men in thawbs and keffiyehs. What color had the headdress been?

Red. It had been red, right?

Did every fucker in the room have to be wearing some damn form of red on his head?

His heart rate ticked up. He was here. The Caliph was here and he was wearing a mask. How the fuck was he supposed to find him when they all were wearing the same masks?

And there it was. That was the same keffiyeh he’d seen in the video feed. Red and black. He’d found him.

Jesse reached for the Caliph’s elbow, pulling him around, ready to stare into the face of his own nightmare.

“Can I help you?” an elderly man asked, his brown eyes softening with concern. “Are you all right?”

Not the Caliph. Not even close. Jesse stepped back. “Sorry.”

His heart sank and he stumbled a bit. He wanted to shout. Thought about it for a half a second. He could shout out and finally be done with this.

“Jesse?”

He stopped in the middle of the room. Phoebe. His hands were shaking. His heart racing. He wanted to walk away from her so she didn’t have to see him, didn’t have to know how this affected him and made him turn into a reactionary moron who hadn’t even thought about the consequences of running in here like a madman.

He looked up and hundreds of eyes were watching him. He was supposed to be a ghost, someone who clung to the sidelines and no one noticed, but he’d just made himself a massive target. He’d placed them all in danger because he couldn’t control himself.

He turned, knowing he had to get them out of here. She would be furious. He plastered a smile on his face that utterly belied his need to scream and roar and berate himself. “Hey, I was looking for you.” Yeah, they would believe that. “Heard you had some trouble.”

Erin was standing beside Phoebe with a frown on her face. “We took care of it. Looks like you’re having some trouble, too.”

“Back off,” Phoebe said under her breath. “We’ll deal with this upstairs.”

He turned and suddenly was taken back to that moment he’d been placed on an airplane to go from Ramstein AFB back to the States after he’d been found. He’d been in the hospital for weeks, and then they’d come for him. Five MPs. They’d been there for his “protection” his CO had claimed, but that hadn’t been how it felt.

He’d felt like a prisoner, like a man no one trusted.

As Simon and then Theo took up places on either side of him, he knew what it felt like again.

He walked forward toward the elevators, his gut in a nasty twist. He’d fucked up and it was going to cost him everything.

They got into the elevators and the silence was damn near devastating.

Phoebe’s head went down, avoiding the cameras this time. “I know. Ten, I will handle it. I don’t care. Yes, I’ll let him know.”

“Jesse,” Simon began.

Phoebe turned, her eyes flashing. “You will wait until we get upstairs and then you will wait until I’ve had my talk with him. Is that understood?”

So Phoebe was going to deliver the dressing down. Yeah, that was the icing on the cake. That was the final fucking blow. He was going to lose his job and her in the same moment.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he began.

“Be quiet,” she ordered.

The doors opened again and they marched out toward the suite. Ten was standing there waiting when they walked in.

“Do you have any idea what you just did? Every security team here is trying to figure out who you are. You have put every single one of us in danger,” Ten said, his voice as cold as ice.

Phoebe got right in her brother’s space. “I told you to stand down.”

“You don’t run this team,” Ten shot back.

“I don’t care. He’s mine and I will take care of him. You and everyone else will back the fuck off. I’m going to do this in private. We’ll deal with fallout later and that is my final say. Unless you want to fire me, you will let me deal with this my way.”

Ten scrubbed a hand through his head and stalked off.

Phoebe’s hand found his. It seemed a little cruel of her, but he was numb. He allowed himself to be led off. She walked right to the bedroom they’d shared. She wouldn’t be sharing with him anymore. She led him inside and then turned and locked the door.

Jesse stared ahead, not wanting to look back at her. “I know I fucked up.”

She moved around to stand in front of him, and there were tears in her eyes when she reached for him, her hands cupping his face as she stared up. “I will not let him hurt you. Do you understand me?” She wrapped her arms around him and suddenly he was held tight. “I won’t ever let him hurt you. God, Jesse, he’s here. I talked to him, didn’t I? That’s what Ten said. It was the only reason you would do that. I won’t let him get near you. I promise. You’re safe, Jesse. You’re safe.”

It took him a moment to take in her words, to understand that he wasn’t being rejected. He was being pulled close. Her feminine body offering protection and comfort to his masculine one. He’d fucked up and she was promising to take care of him.

She was crying for him.

He let go, not of her, never of her. He let go of the idea that it was wrong to cry. He wouldn’t do it in public or with his friends. But he could with her. She was safety and affection and acceptance.

A shudder went through his body and he let himself cry because he’d thought the nightmare was over, because it had never really gone away until this moment when she began to take some of the burden from him.

He laid his head on her shoulders, finally safe in her arms.