“You seem nervous. What’s up?” John eyed Marcus as he leaned back in the booth at the local pub down the block from headquarters and sipped his cold beer. He closed his eyes on a moan. “Oh, thank you, Jesus.”

Marcus chuckled, ignoring the question. “Long week of training the hot new girl putting you on edge, Father John?”

John rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

But the truth was that it did have him on edge. She’d quietly made herself a part of the everyday life, the coming and going. Like a fricking silent wraith. She didn’t talk much—to anyone. But occasionally, he’d catch her in a one-on-one with a team member, chatting. She liked to talk guns with the guys. And with the other women, she’d talk about getting on the range and actually shooting. Always small talk about what she knew best.

He’d seen her with Marie and Stacy, and even Moira Hawkins, giving pointers at the shooting range.

She’d laugh, too. She really was happy with a gun in her hands.

“So, how long do you think she’ll stick around?”

John shrugged. “Don’t know.”

She’d said “unfinished business,” and he had an idea that meant this assignment was temporary. For whatever reason—and maybe it wasn’t completely unfounded—she blamed herself for what had happened two years ago. Hidden footage of the meeting that day had surfaced in the last year. He’d watched, too, like every other curious social media troll.

“Hey, guys,” Emily said, as if his thoughts had conjured her into existence.

John stood so quickly his chair tipped back. He reached for it and caught it. “Emily. Hi. How are you?”

Craig Wilder, who’d been sitting to John’s left—quiet as can be—rose as well, and he offered his chair. “Would you like to sit with us?”

She looked a little uncertain. “Oh, no. I’m only here for a quick dinner and then I’ve got…stuff to do.”

“Please,” John said, pulling back on Craig’s chair. Craig turned around to grab a chair from an empty table. “We’re just unwinding.”

“I don’t want to intrude on—”

“You’re not intruding sweetheart,” Marcus said, as he tipped his chair back and eyed her. And in normal circumstances, John might not have noticed. Instead, he wanted to kick the chair out from under Marcus and throw him on his ass.

“Okay, for a little while, I guess.” She took the seat offered and hooked a little purse to the back of her chair.

John sat back down, his heart pounding a little harder than normal. “So, how was your first week?”

She licked her lips. Nerves, he assumed. But she sat up straighter and finally looked him in the eye. “It wasn’t what I expected. I guess I was thinking it would be busier.”

“We have some downtime in the year when we focus on training and recruiting.”

“Ah, hence me.” She laughed and, when the waiter came around, ordered a drink and food.

The table was quiet, as if the three of them had never had a girl join them for dinner. “It’s not usually this awkward silence.” John finished off his beer and set the bottle on the table.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Marcus leaned in. “So, how many people have you killed?”

John used a foot and shoved his buddy’s chair. “Shut up, Marcus, or you’ll be my first.”

Emily’s brow lifted.

“I’m sorry, Emily. He’s being an asshole. Excuse my French.”

“My apologies,” Marcus said. “Guess I’m curious about an assassin. Especially one who is a woman.”

“Do you shoot, Marcus?” Emily didn’t bat an eye; instead she engaged him, asking him about his own experience in the field. It wasn’t long before he was talking to her, leaning in to do so, and seemingly interested in more than how hot she was—which was quite a bit, as far as John was concerned.

Or was he too interested?

John squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with the green-eyed monster. He definitely didn’t have any claim on Emily Rogers, even if he’d spent months looking for her and did recruit her. Didn’t matter that she’d spent all week talking one on one with everyone else. And that she’d yet to include him in the process.

Marcus laughed at something she said.

John checked his watch. It was only eight o’clock.

“So you were the only one out there?” Craig asked, leaning in as well, taking in all her words, probably smelling her pretty perfume.

Shut up.

She nodded and tossed her hair back, and the strands landed on John’s arm.

Holy moly, he needed to get out of here.

“You okay, John?” Marcus asked, looking all concerned. But there was that knowing look in his eyes, too. As if he knew what John was suffering and liked seeing him uncomfortable.

John scowled. “I should go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Emily said as she pulled a napkin from her lap and set it on the table next to her empty plate.

“You don’t have to do that,” he answered quickly. Just what he needed. To be the party pooper. Way to make an impression, John. “Stay. Enjoy yourself. It has been a long week.”

“I’d rather enjoy myself with you, if you don’t mind.”

His brain short-circuited. He cleared his throat, even as a sweet blush rose on her neck.

Marcus snickered.

“I mean—”

“Don’t listen to him,” John reassured her, despite the fact that his brain had gone there as well. At least he wasn’t prickish enough to giggle like a schoolboy. “I know what you meant.”

She stood and slung her purse over her head.

“See you all at the gym tomorrow morning.” John lifted a hand in a wave before he put a hand at the small of her back and led her out.

The air was crisp and the wind had picked up since their arrival. He zipped up his leather jacket. “So, tell me what you really think,” he told her. It felt like a dare. She’d been so polite since they’d gotten to Raleigh. Even a little standoffish. He wanted her to be comfortable, but even more than that, he wanted her to really like her job with Hawk Elite.

And to like him.

“Hawk is amazingly kind, and his wife is frickin’ kick-ass.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Marie likes to keep to herself, for the most part. But she’s new, like me, so we have that in common. And she’s good with her sidearm.”

Funny, she was giving him an assessment.

“But do you like them? Do you like the company?” He held his breath.

She remained silent for a minute then stopped and turned to him when they got to the corner. “Too soon to tell.”

“Better than a no.”

Emily shook her head. “How about we make a deal?”

“Okay.”

She rolled her eyes. “You trust too easily.”

“Come on,” he said, loving that she wanted to take make another deal.

“If I get to the point where I don’t like it, you’ll be the first to know.”

He tilted his head, watching that intelligent gaze. “I’d like that. As long as I get a chance to prove you wrong.”

She shrugged. “So, everyone teases you. Calls you Father John. What’s that all about?”

“Nothing—” When she looked at him skeptically, he added, “Good.”

She laughed. “Okay. I get it. It’s a nickname, probably loosely based in truth. You’re not a priest, though, right?”

“No,” he answered.

“Well, that’s good.” They were standing outside headquarters, and the light above the door shone down on the sidewalk out front.

He laughed. “Why?”

John waited in that cold night air, somehow knowing that this moment could change him forever. What would she say? She studied him for a moment then lifted her hand to brush at the hair on his forehead. And then her lips were soft on his, coercing him into feeling the very things he fought—longing, lust, need. All week he’d forced himself to ignore his basic instinct. And now he knew. She was practically perfect. He hardly had to bend over at all. He closed his eyes and moaned softly when she pulled away.

“I thought we should get that out of the way.”

Out of the way? Her kiss would forever be in the way now.

His phone rang, the sharp buzz from his pocket pulling him from his stupor. He fumbled and answered. “Hello?”

“John?” Hawk said, as if he could hear the strain in John’s voice.

John had no doubt he could.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’ve—” Been kissed. No. That wouldn’t work. “Can I call you back? Emily and I were just…talking.”

He dropped his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath. “We should try that again. I could take a more active role. I wouldn’t want you to think that’s the best I can do.”

She shook her head with a laugh. “Good night, John.”

* * *

Emily Rogers.

The Emily Rogers.

Sitting in his car down the road from Hawk Elite, a man ran a shaky hand over his mouth. Had it been luck that brought the woman into his life right now? Hard to believe after everything had been working against him…

Still, he had her, could snatch her up at almost any time.

From the looks of that chaste kiss, he could probably convince her to do more than be snatched up. Father John must be more accurate than he thought. He’d have to think about that as he planned his next move, planned how he could capitalize on the juicy morsel of information.

Research. He’d have to do a little digging.

He needed money, the faster the better.

And the woman who’d taken out more than ten people on the most-wanted lists within the agencies of the United States had to be worth something to somebody.

Maybe it was time for him to find out how much.