When Kat Crawford’s godfather called her before dawn, telling her he needed her to go with him to Montana, she thought her overprotective uncle Tom had finally given the man his blessing to hire her into the Knight Agency.

Satisfaction had warmed her blood and increased as Brooke, his top agent, had flown them across the country. Her godfather—Jameson Knight—had told her they were headed to Montana to meet with Hank Patterson, head of Brotherhood Protection. It was a bodyguard agency that hired former military to guard celebrities, or anyone else needing protection.

Like a fool, she’d assumed he was flying her there for a job interview. The uncertainty in Patterson’s eyes proved the old “assume” adage true.

And she was the one on the ass end.

Her gaze drifted from one rugged, musclebound man to another. They wore their former military status around them like an invisible flak jacket. Fit and confident, each man epitomized bodyguard. But the instant her gaze met the final man, all thoughts of work left her brain as rabidly as the air filling her lungs.

It was him.

The SEAL she’d secretly lusted after in her youth.

On one of her many visits to the base, she’d hunkered down in the safety of her uncle’s office and watched the men training out in the yard. The scenery had garnered no shortage of hot SEALs, but there was just something about this one that had grabbed her attention and never let go. She’d even put her art minor to use and began to sketch him. He was the only man who ever made her feel soft and feminine. A feeling she’d almost forgotten.

Until now.

Being in the same room intensified that feeling, but standing in front of the older, seasoned, sexier version made her acutely aware of her erogenous zones and their lack of attention…especially the ones she never knew existed.

This was insane. She needed to get her mind back on track, but instead of treating him to the same quick scrutiny as the others, she allowed her gaze to linger a second longer to take in the changes.

Tall and still lean, he wore his dark hair a little longer, with a slight beard dusting the strong jaw she used to imagine doing all sorts of naughty things to her body. Just reminiscing made her knees weak. And she wasn’t the weak-kneed type.

The muscles in his arms and chest appeared leaner, more defined, although, it could be due to the lack of window and several hundred yards of men distorting her view. Whatever the case, she refused to chicken out and finally met his gaze.

Her heart leapt in her chest.

No wonder she could never tell if his eyes were green or brown from a distance. They were hazel, and his steady regard made her feel warm from the inside out.

Working with this man was going to be tough. She pulled her gaze away, and some of the fog lifted from her brain. He wasn’t a coworker. Her uncle had just alluded that wasn’t the reason she was there.

Wait a minute. If she wasn’t meeting with Brotherhood Protection for a job that meant…

Long fingers of concern stretched down her spine and squeezed tight.

She was the job.

Turning to face her uncle, Kat caught a glimpse of anxiety clouding his gaze before he blinked it away. Damn. Her heart dove to the pit of her stomach. This was one time she hated being right. Inhaling slowly and exhaling slower, she worked to calm the alarm racing through her veins.

“What’s going on?” Jamming her hands on her hips, she squared off against her uncle. “Why was I lured here under the pretense of working for Brotherhood Protection when it’s obvious I’m the client?”

Admiration sparked in his eyes. “Astute as ever.”

“And you’re evasive as ever.” She sighed. “Are you in some kind of trouble?” One glance at her godfather resurrected her alarm. The last thing she ever expected was to find concern darkening his clear, blue eyes. Not good. Not good at all. Nothing ruffled Jameson Knight. Ever. She turned back to her uncle. “Okay, spill it. All of it. Don’t sugarcoat a thing.”

He grabbed both her hands and squeezed. “You’re so much like your mother. Your dad was hooked the first time he met her.”

As much as Kat loved to hear about the parents she lost before her teens, she was too concerned with her uncle and the situation. She squeezed back. “You were about to tell me why I’m in Montana on a ranch full of military men, remember?” 

“Someone is threatening you because of one of my past missions.” He released her to run a hand through his hair.

Anger at this unknown man rose sharp and swift, canceling her concern. It had taken her over a year to convince her uncle and godfather that she was agent-worthy, and just when she’d finally persuaded them to give her a shot, this guy she’d never met ruined all her hard work with a damn threat. “You know I can take care of myself. I don’t need protecting.” She glanced at Hank and his silent men. “No offense. I’m a protector, not a protectee. It’s as absurd as Brooke needing a bodyguard.”

The former special forces operative stood next to Jameson with her feet apart and hands behind her back in the classic at-ease stance. “Never happen.”

“I know,” Kat said. “And I see no reason to have one either.”

“Maybe this will change your mind.” Her uncle removed a photo from inside his jacket and handed it to her, his jaw clenched so tight it cracked.

Glancing at the threat written about her across the photo of the naked, mutilated body of dead woman, she swallowed. Twice. Remembered how to breathe, then placed the photo in her godfather’s outstretched hand.

He took one look at it and cursed. “You’re getting a bodyguard.” Features tight, he passed the photo back to her uncle. “That isn’t an ordinary threat from ordinary people, Kat. They’re fanatics with no regard for life.”

“Exactly.” Uncle Tom shoved the photo in his pocket before setting his hands on her shoulders. “Listen, this has nothing to do with your abilities. I know you’re beyond capable and very smart. Hell, I’m always the first one to boast about your prowess, but this is different. If they get their hands on you, I can’t take them down, and worse than that, I fear they’ll use me and my position to further their agenda.”

Every protest forming in her brain disappeared with his last statement. “Whose demands?” she asked, heart pounding hard in her chest at the look of fear darkening his gaze.

He released her shoulders, but didn’t step back. “I recently dismantled a network of arms dealers in Syria.”

She cocked her head. “By ‘dismantled’, you mean?”

“Stopped permanently,” he clarified. “Whoever’s behind this threat is related to someone I stopped.”

Damn. Now she understood the concern. “They want revenge.” Nothing more dangerous than an irrational fanatic bent on revenge. “Boy, Uncle Tom, you like to kick over the biggest hornet’s nests, don’t you?”

A smile twitched his lips. “Runs in the family.”

She exhaled. “What do you need me to do?”

Relief eased the stiffness from his jaw and shoulders. “Do as the Brotherhood asks. Go off the grid, and hang tight until your godfather and I can figure out who’s making the threats and take them out.”

Sitting on the sidelines was not her style.

He must’ve read her expression because he grinned. “Think of it as a vacation.”

“Right.” She scoffed. “Because Montana is always the first place that pops in my mind to relax on a beach.”

He chuckled. “Figured you’d say that, so I brought you some supplies.”

“Supplies?” She frowned. “What supplies?”

“Those.” He pointed across the room to a corner where an easel sat with several blank canvases propped against the wall, along with a large sketch pad and two flat wooden boxes, no doubt full of top-of-the-line oil paints and supplies.

Damn. “You don’t play fair.” Her fingers were already itching to crack open a case and get started.

“No. I don’t.” He stepped forward to set his hands on her shoulders again. “But this isn’t a game, Kat.”

“I know that,” she replied, annoyance flaring up to burn a path to her gut. “It’s the only reason I conceded. I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”

He released her and winked. “I’ll be fine. Jameson and his people will have my back.”

She bounced her gaze from Brooke to her godfather. Kat had hoped to be one of his “people”, but at least she knew her uncle had competent help. Although it pained her to be left out, she nodded.

“I know you wanted to start working again, after putting your life on hold to take care of your grandmother,” he said. “But this needs to be dealt with first. I promise, when this is over, we’ll talk seriously about your options.”

That was the closest she’d come to getting him to talk. Now that her grandmother had passed, Kat was ready to release the hold button on her career. Sure, she could’ve gone out and gotten her own job weeks ago, but she preferred to work with her godfather, or an agency both men vetted.

Fighting the urge to fist pump the air in triumph, she cocked her head instead. “Deal. I have witnesses to your declaration, so don’t try to deny it when you get back.”

A grin spread across his face and held up his hands. “I won’t. I promise. Now, it’s your turn. Promise me you’ll relax and pick up a paintbrush. If I know you, those trees are already talking to you.”

“Talking?” She smirked. “They’re yelling, ‘Paint me!’”

On the two minute walk up the drive, she’d already painted three canvases in her head, and sketched a fourth. Now that he’d armed her with the tools and supplied her with the time, she’d do her best to bury her concern and create a landscape to present him upon his return.

“So, you’re the painter.” A vaguely familiar blonde entered the room with the cutest baby girl in her arms. “I was wondering who’s supplies they were. Thought maybe my husband had taken up a hobby during my last shoot and forgot to tell me.”

“You’re Sadie McClain,” she said inanely, beyond shocked to find one of Hollywood’s sweethearts on a ranch in remote Montana. Of course, that’s probably exactly why the star was there. For privacy. “Hello. I’m Kat.”

“Nice to meet you, Kat. I’m also Sadie Patterson.” The woman sidled up to Hank, who slung his arm around his wife and drew her up against his side. “This is our home—which reminds me, can I get any of you something to drink?”

A chorus of “no thank you” went around the room.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone before I leave.” Her uncle set his hand on the small of her back and led her straight the sexy SEAL. “This is former Navy SEAL, Brogan O’Neal. He’ll take good care of you.”

Seriously? Brogan?

Damn. Even his name was sexy. And out of all the freakin’ testosterone in the room, her uncle had to pick the one man her body was aware of like an ember smoldering in the fireplace.

“Ma’am.” He held out his hand, and she started to reach for it, feeling the effects of his low, gravelly voice all the way down to her toes, but then his greeting sunk in.

“No need to be so formal,” she said. “I have an allergy that term.”

He nodded, his hand still outstretched. “Sorry, ma’am, I meant no disrespect.”

Again? Really?

“Neither do I…frog,” she replied, and since she had no choice but to touch him, she grasped his hand.

Heat instantly spread through her body in a tantalizing wave her favorite parts relished and clamored for more.

Lordy, they’d been neglected for far too long.

Which, no doubt, explained why she just stood there, palms touching, heart pounding, staring at him like an idiot. Luckily, snickers echoed around the room and broke through her frogman stupor.

She withdrew her hand and fought the urge to rub her palm against her hip to get rid of the damn tingling.

“He’s not just any frog, Kat,” her uncle was saying. “He’s an elite one.”

She lifted a brow. “DEVGRU?”

The SEAL nodded.

Her admiration for the guy ratcheted up a notch. Only the best—the elite—were part of the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NSWDG), or DEVGRU. It was one of four secretive counter-terrorism and Special Mission Units (SMUs), and often referred to as SEAL Team Six. Not only were the teams’ activities classified, they usually were never commented on by the White House or the Department of Defense.

This meant, not only was the guy one of her uncle’s former SEALs, he most definitely had been one of her godfather’s, too.

Suddenly, she felt double-teamed.

“Wow.” She nodded. “I feel much better knowing I’ll be protected by an elite frog.”

“Kat.” Her uncle turned her to face him, holding her upper arms. “I need you to take this threat seriously.”

Guilt hollowed her gut, and she silently cursed herself for putting the concern back in his eyes. “Sorry. It’s just that is seems a shame to waste him on me. I’m sure Brotherhood Protectors could—”

“You’re not a waste.” Her uncle cut her off, and squeezed her arms. “Promise me you’ll do whatever he says.”

Damn, that was the opposite of what she wanted to promise. It’d taken her years to get to the point in her life where she was a peer to a man like O’Neal. Still, the last thing she wanted was her uncle going into “battle” worried about her attitude.

She forced her body to relax, brought a smile to her lips, and nodded.

That seemed to do the trick, because he relaxed and smiled too. “Good.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Since she hadn’t said it out loud, she could still leave her protector’s ranch if her uncle was gone too long, and she sensed he needed help.

Uncle Tom kissed her forehead and when he stepped to the side, her godfather appeared in front of her and drew her into a bear hug.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you never verbally promised,” he whispered in her ear. “Whatever you’re planning to do—don’t.” A spark of admiration lit his blue eyes when he drew back. But he didn’t release her. “Promise me you’ll listen to O’Neal,” he said loud and clear, for all to freakin’ hear. “And none of that nodding. I want verbal confirmation.”

Dammit.

Sneaky SOG was too damned astute.

“Let me guess,” she said instead. “He was one of your SEALs, too, wasn’t he?”

“Chief Petty Officer O’Neal served under both of us at one time or another,” her godfather confirmed, then cocked his head and grinned. “I still didn’t hear that promise.”

Mother Francis…

Fine. “I promise.”

Now she was going to have to stay with the damn frog, because she never welched on a promise…and her uncle and godfather both knew it.

Fed up with alpha males for the moment, she glanced over at Brooke. The woman stood talking to Sadie and smiling at the baby. That alone was enough to get her to cross the room.

“You okay?” Brooke asked, when she approached.

Kat snorted. “Swell. I needed some fresh air, and to recharge in a testosterone-free zone.”

Sadie chuckled. “Honey, you’re out of luck in these parts, thanks to my husband’s brainchild, and all its agents.”

Kat glanced over at her uncle and godfather, and their pet SEAL. Or was he their pet frog? No matter, he was conditioned to do as they ordered, so any chance she had of appealing to his sympathetic side was shot to hell.

“You know,” Sadie said. “As far as babysitters go, yours isn’t so bad.”

She lifted a shoulder. “He is kind of hot.”

Brooke nodded. “Sort of reminds me of this Special Forces guy I met during a joint op in Columbia a few years ago.”

Curiosity completely piqued, Kat moved closer. “Yeah?” Brooke never talked about men. Ever. Not even the ones she dated. “What was he like?”

Her friend’s smile widened. “Italian.”

“Oh.” Sadie winked. “That is a sexy language. I had to learn some for this movie once, but I kept losing my concentration whenever the tutor opened his mouth.”

Brooke flicked her long ponytail over her shoulder. “Tell me about it. All Ezio had to do was say hello in Italian and I’d lose my train of thought.”

“Damn. The name Ezio alone makes my ovaries hurt.” Kat sighed. “I take it the two of you celebrated an op well done.”

The competent agent lived her life uninhibited, and Kat suspected it wasn’t just on the battlefield.

But Brooke’s expression turned rueful. “No. That’s just it. I fought the attraction, and we parted ways when the op ended.”

“That’s too bad,” Sadie said.

“Do you regret it?” Kat asked.

“Sometimes,” Brooke admitted. “So, I want you to promise me something.”

Kat groaned, “Not you, too?”

The woman’s gaze bore deep. “Promise me that if you find you really like this guy, you’ll take a chance and do what I was too afraid to. Be stronger than me.”

That statement didn’t compute.

Brooke was the strongest woman Kat had ever met. Confident. Lethal. Capable. So the appearance of regret in her eyes was rare and foreign. Kat respected it. And the woman.

“I promise.” But since she was only going to spend a few days, maybe a week, with her hot babysitter, and had plenty of canvases to cover, nothing was going to happen.

Besides, the guy had served under her godfather and uncle. She knew all about the brotherhood code. No way would the man touch her with a ten foot pine. Or oak. Or any of the trees dotting the land. Attraction or not.

The whole conversation was pointless. 

She glanced over at the frog in question, still deep in discussion with his former commanders. It was a shame, really. For the first time in a long time—okay, first time since she last saw him, her body reacted strongly to a man, and he was off limits.

He was better left to her fantasies. They got on really well in her fantasies.

Doing her best to keep them at bay, she watched Uncle Tom set a hand on O’Neal’s shoulder. A second later, his head jerked back and shock widened his eyes, before Brogan turned that gaze on her.

“What in the world could they have said to the poor guy?” Sadie’s chuckle joined Brooke’s and mixed with the male snickers on the other side of the room.

“That was undoubtedly the result of my uncle’s warning him to keep his little frog out of my pond or they were going to string him up by his short hairs.”

Too bad. She was beginning to warm up to the thought of being stuck on a remote ranch with the sexy frogman. The only bright spot in the whole crappy situation. Well, that and the prospect of painting again.

Maybe she could paint him.

Literally.

Her confinement just took on a whole new level of frustration.