Nick watched Nicole from a safe distance. She sort of slunk into the background, crouched down in her seat and almost folded into herself as she waited for her flight to start boarding. Her eyes shifted left and right, seemingly aware of her surroundings. Ironically, though, her gaze hadn’t landed on him since their chance encounter in front of the Coach store. Then again, he knew how to remain unnoticed. It was his specialty.

What were the odds of them having interaction before actually meeting, before he’d had the opportunity to even know she was the one he’d be trailing? Shit like that didn’t just happen. She’d been placed in his path. Not that he thought some divine hand was at play, moving them around like human chess pieces. Still, he couldn’t deny running into her had done something to him. All of a sudden, the question wasn’t just whether or not he had done his job, but how he could stay on this particular job watching Nicole for a while longer.

Which was all kinds of fucked up.

One of the reasons he had agreed to work for The Company following his discharge from the Army was he could almost be his own boss with no ties to anything and wouldn’t have someone waiting and worrying at home. As it was, he was frequently in harm’s way, though it was usually one of his own doing—like the warehouse fire. Thankfully, he hadn’t taken the contractor position he’d been offered. A well-known defense contractor requested him by name for a mission in Afghanistan. He’d served there before, but this assignment would have been a contracted/civilian role. They even offered him three times his highest Army pay, but he turned it down anyway. That sort of job wasn’t for him. He’d run the risk of becoming a statistic from a random rebel attack. Hell, even the freaking cold in the mountains that nearly froze his balls off the first time he’d experienced it.

No thanks. The Company might have some secretive dealings, but Nick always felt safe, protected, but most of all, calling the shots.

And, he’d do that now for Nicole Hunt. He’d see this through to whatever end came of it.

Goddamn, she was gorgeous. Not your typical flashy looker, rather subtle… natural… in a sexy sort of just climbed out of bed and tugged on her guy’s clothes sort of way not knowing how much her lack of overt girly-ness turned him on.

His groin ached at the image in his mind. His fingers sifting through her thick hair. Her voice, a tinge on the smoky side, a bit scratchy from having screamed out his name from pure ecstasy.

He shook his head to physically snap out of it. Nicole Hunt was a target. A mark. Nothing more.

In spite of his self-warnings, he couldn’t help wondering who might miss her while she slipped away from the Bay area. Was there a boyfriend? A fiancé? A friend with benefits? Well, no, because it would have been in the dossier he’d read earlier. Still, someone as stunning—and apparently smart and successful—as Nicole Hunt would unquestionably have people concerned for her safety.

He remembered reading about her father, a retired Air Force officer and conjectured whether or not Nicole was going to be with him. The record showed he currently lived alone in a golf course community in Scottsdale. Nicole’s mother, Anna, had died a dozen years ago, with a note on the file that further information into her cause of death was “classified.” Was it a result of something the general had been working on?

Poor Nicole. She’d have lost her mother when she was… twelve. A bit older than Nick was when it happened in his world. Still, he knew what it was to lose the woman who’d brought you into this world. Peeking over at Nicole, he wondered if she’d been close to her mother, was their relationship good, was it a happy childhood?

His thoughts shifted to his own adolescence which was out of the ordinary, because no matter the assignment, Nick was always able to keep his own feelings, judgments, and his past out of it. Not right now, though. His youthful years had been filled with shuffling about and never really being in one place for too long or even with one family for more than a year – except the Martins. They were the only people he’d consider family now, though he’d been away for what felt like forever.

It had been some time since Nick had been on US soil. As he waited to be called onto his flight to New York’s JFK, he wondered whether this assignment would be long enough to allow him to check in with his adoptive parents. He hadn’t seen them in a few years, and although they were used to his constant traveling, even he kind of missed them. They were always hopeful he’d respond to their love that the possibility of becoming closer as a family, even for someone as damaged as he was.

His father had been career military—Special Forces, as well—and had served in Vietnam and the beginning of Desert Storm. Norwood Taylor, though, had suffered through years of sickness related to exposure to Agent Orange and he succumbed to terminal cancer. It had consumed his body when Nick was only four years old. Nick’s mother, Julia, so distraught over losing her husband and the love of her life, joined him in death a month to the day thanks to an overdose of sleeping pills. Her heartbreak for her husband was more than the love she had for the life they’d brought into the world together. Nick had been a ward of the state, bounced around from foster home to foster home until the Martins, Sara-Fay, and Henry, simple folks who owned and worked a mom and pop winery in upstate New York, took him in and raised him as their own.

They’d tried to teach him the love of the land, the smell and feel of the earth between your fingers, and the mixing and science behind growing the grapes, but he had a higher calling… to follow the path of his birth father into the Army, to serve his country, and to succeed more than his father and somehow, on some level, make him proud.

Nick couldn’t do anything about his family issues, nor did he care to. It was what it was. He refused to get stuck in his own head, imagining what could have been or where he might have ended up if things had been different. His mother gave him up for adoption all those years ago, and no amount of wishing or wondering would change that. He had closed himself off since then, and had even rejected his adoptive parents’ desperate attempts to love him like their own son. By then, it was too late for anyone to steer his wounded soul in the right direction. His past made him a machine, born, groomed, and trained for the purpose of completing his assigned missions through meticulous planning and the ability to adapt to the most inhospitable situations.

As he hung back watching her, he realized Nicole Hunt was one smart, observant piece of ass. She noticed what other people would have ignored. Without looking, she avoided a suitcase that rolled into her path at the last second, dodged an older couple who stopped short in front of her, and effortlessly picked up a passport and boarding pass that fell as someone walked by, almost as though she had a bird’s eye view of everything around her. And, she did it all with a coffee in her hand. This took more than attention to one’s surroundings.

It took training.

Fuck.

She had probably made him already.

He leaned back more into the column where three others gathered with their phones plugged in charging on the one outlet that was available. He noticed she found a remote seat in the gate area and made herself almost seem small… invisible.

He wished he’d had more information on this woman. There was something in her history which had prepared her to hide in plain sight, navigate prying eyes, and disappear the way she was doing right now. Nick chalked it up to her father’s work experience. Military brats—from any branch of service—pretty much got the benefit of years of preparation without the need for basic training or military service themselves. Osmosis from the structured and dutiful parent. Perhaps some of her father’s instincts rubbed off on her, because it was obvious she hadn’t done time in the military.

He glimpsed across the airport to where Nicole sat, eyes glued to her phone. He hoped she wasn’t doing anything stupid like posting on social media or corresponding via text or email with anyone. If she weren't using a burner phone, like him, then anyone looking for her would be able to trace the signal to her known cell phone number. He paced across to the other side of the terminal into the waiting area for their flight, crossing behind her to get a view of what she was doing. He snickered, but kept walking, as he noted she was engaged in a heated battle of some sort of phone app game. Everyone had their stress relief, so it was a relief to know she was still as incognito as she was hoping to be here at the airport.

Lingering to observe her a bit, he watched as she shucked off her light jacket. She stood up to wrench her arms out of it more successfully. She wore a simple black tank top and tight-fitting jeans that hugged every curve of her ass and cover her sexy legs that went on for miles, even though she was shorter in stature. Her shoulders and arms were bare for the moment, probably because this part of the terminal was warmer than other parts. Her skin was tanned and slightly muscular, like she went to the gym or ran or biked without much fanfare. He couldn’t stand those women who constantly bragged and commented about their gym routine, how much Pilates they did, or what their trainer told them to do. Nicole Hunt simply did and let her body do the talking for her.

Even though he was certain she hadn’t dressed this way to draw prying eyes to her, he couldn’t turn away. He’d felt the heat radiating from her when he brushed her arm earlier, almost an invitation for more.

She wadded up her jacket and bent over to cram it into her bag that sat on the chair next to her. The action gave him a glorious view of her ass and the tightness of it. He felt his Adam’s apple dip down and back up as he gulped hard at the image before him. It didn’t help when she straightened back up and stretched her firm arms over her head, and then moved her hands to scoop up her long tresses into a messy bun on the top of her head, securing it with an elastic she wore on her right wrist. The motion was one of the sexiest things he’d seen in a very long time, and he actually had a physical reaction when his stomach flexed and his cock tightened.

Damn.

Underestimating this woman was a big fucking mistake.