Baron Luzader hadn’t been this excited to go to work since his first day of SEAL training. Six months after leaving the SEALs he was finally free to join the rest of his former platoon working for Sutton Smith’s Warrior Project. All he knew about his first assignment was that it had to do with surveillance.

That suited Baron oh so perfectly. Every day of the last six months he had been surrounded by people as he helped his parents sell their car dealerships and transition to retirement. Surveillance sounded like a lot of alone time and he was so ready for about a month without talking to a single person. It wouldn’t be too bad if he had to work alongside one of his SEAL buddies, but Sutton had already told Baron that they were all currently working other cases.

The mansion that Baron pulled up to was the size of a small city. A valet came out and took Baron’s car while he was still trying to take in the enormous building. The descriptions he’d received from the other guys didn’t do this place justice. The perk he was most looking forward to was the tricked-out Escalade he’d be driving when he left today.

A security guard in a black suit opened the massive front door when Baron approached.

“Mr. Luzader, you’re early.”

“Of course I am.” He stepped into the enormous front room. “The sooner I start, the sooner I can get some quiet ‘me’ time.”

“If you’ll follow me …” As the guard led Baron around a corner to a staircase leading down, another guard in a black suit took the post at the front door.

The stairway was as fancy as the rest of the house—some sort of hanging steps that were only attached to the wall, yet they didn’t seem so overly modern to clash with the classic grandeur of the house.

The first room they came to was a tech and intel lover’s dream. Half of one wall was a screen, currently displaying a spreadsheet of sorts with names and details. Baron recognized Blaine, Maddox, Creed, Logan, and Jace—his old SEAL Team members. Some of the other names were familiar as well, from reputation only. A bank of computers, all with double monitors, ran along one other side of the room with empty chairs in front of them. The wall opposite the giant screen held security camera footage from around the property. Baron had been watching when he drove in, and had only seen one camera. The rest must be hidden, and hidden well if Baron hadn’t found them.

The intelligence gathering capability of the room made Baron come alive. It was like being back in the SEALs, but without all the brass looking over his shoulder.

“I got chills,” said Baron, holding up an arm to display his goosebumps.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” said Sutton Smith, signaling to a chair in front of his desk.

As he sat, Baron wiped his chin. “Excuse me for drooling all over your equipment. After all the years doing intelligence in the Navy, it feels like coming home. Except while I was gone, the family moved out of a tent and into a mansion complete with air conditioning and mini fridges. Those were rare on most missions.”

“Glad to have you aboard.” Sutton looked to be around fifty, and could easily play James Bond in the next installment, even down to his smooth British accent.

“I apologize for not arriving last night,” said Baron. “A couple of last minute issues came up with the buyers of my parents’ company.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Sutton. “Family is important. The rest of your team has been anxious to get you on board. They’ve told me a lot about you. Some of it was actually positive.”

Sutton kept a straight face, but Baron noticed the playful banter that always accompanied Special Ops guys, no matter the branch of service or country of origin. Baron loved his family and his home town, but it was something inexpressibly special to be back with his tribe.

Baron shrugged nonchalantly. “They’ve been begging me to finally get here. Said they’ve barely been able to function without me.”

“I don’t know how they’ve managed,” agreed Sutton, the sarcasm implied. “Your tongue seems to have loosened, Baron. When I talked to you in the Middle East you barely said two words.”

“Therapy will do that for you. It did it for me anyway. The problem is finding people who can take someone who says what he’s thinking. I’m confident I can bite my tongue for intel purposes, but day to day, I’m a no-filter guy. You say last time I gave you two words? Here’s three for today.” He counted them out on his fingers. “S-U-V.”

Sutton’s mouth tightened in a suppressed grin, and he picked up a key fob as if weighing it. “Jace and I had a wager on how long it would take for you to bring that up.”

“And who won?” If Baron was wagering on the wager, he’d always bet on Jace’s power of prediction.

“Let’s just say it wasn’t me. I’ll get you set up with your car as soon as—” His eyes went blank. Baron recognized it as him listening to some other input, probably the Bluetooth earpiece.

Why did there have to be delays? Baron had been hoping to come in, get briefed, and drive out. That was what appealed to him about this opportunity—none of the complications of dealing with a whole team of people coordinating, all while trying to stay within the guidelines of eight different supervisors. At some point, Baron would need to ‘return to society’ as his therapist said, but society and all its lawyers and contracts had been what he’d been up to since leaving the SEALs. For the next while, he looked forward to being back with his boys when he wasn’t alone. Back where life was comfortable.

Sutton pushed a button on the earpiece and said, “Early as well. Show her in.” Speaking to Baron, he said, “Looks as if you won’t have to wait long.”

“What? Huh? You didn’t say anything about—” He cut himself off and took a breath. Maybe Her had to do with the briefing for the mission. Or maybe Her would be his contact point. Or maybe—best case scenario—Her had nothing to do with Baron whatsoever.

Two sets of footsteps grew louder as Baron sweated over whatever was coming. He’d been in worse situations. Once he had a chance to gather all the applicable intel, he’d process it, and proceed from there. Adapt and overcome.

Whatever, or whoever walked through that door couldn’t be as horrible as …

A pretty blonde woman stepped into the room. Her pale eyes were wide behind cat-eye glasses as she ogled all of the computer equipment. That must have been how Baron had looked, just not so dang … gorgeous. No makeup, which she didn’t need. No fancy hairdo, just a simple ponytail. And plain clothes, farm professional, just like Sutton had told Baron to wear.

“Hold on a sec,” said Baron, looking down at his own Carhartt pants and nice plaid button-up shirt. “Why are we dressed the same? I was planning on working alone, not with a civvy. This is starting to feel like a bad cop show.” He hoped he was overreacting. If this woman was from the produce importer who Baron would be doing surveillance on, it made sense that he had been told to dress in a manner to mimic what people in the industry would wear. Maybe they didn’t have to work closely together and were just being brought together for a consult.

“Please, have a seat.” Sutton motioned to both chairs.

Baron looked around, realizing he’d stood when the woman had entered. Her eyes were no longer on the room, but on him, and she was definitely wary. Her smile was faint now, and the way her head was pulled ever so slightly away from him, let him know she might have taken his comment as an attack.

Once they were both seated, Sutton said, “Nessa, meet Baron Luzader. Baron, Nessa Dimmick.”

“Baron?” she asked. “No wonder you can’t be bothered to work with a commoner. Do I need to call you Highness or something like that?”

“Dang,” he said. “You are feeling attacked.” That hadn’t been his intent at all. For his own mental health, he didn’t plan on changing his habit of talking too much anytime soon, but working with a beautiful woman, he might have to steer his comments in ways that wouldn’t be taken wrong. “Baron’s my name,” he said, adding a grin. “However, if you prefer formal, the proper address for a baron is ‘Lord.’”

She relaxed and smiled back at him.

“I suggest familiar, rather than formal,” said Sutton. “Since you lot will be spending every day together for the foreseeable future.”

“What? No!” Baron shot from his chair again. “Being alone with an attractive woman is not what I signed up for.”

“What you signed up for?” asked Sutton, this time not hiding his amusement.

Nessa’s mouth was hanging open until she spoke. “Left-handed attractive compliment aside, how can you say you don’t want a cheesy cop show job, yet stick to the ‘I work alone’ role? Talk about cliché.”

“It’s not that,” said Baron, settling into his seat.

“Let me guess,” she said. He noticed her nostrils were slightly flared and her face had a red tinge. It didn’t hurt her good looks in the slightest. “You didn’t sign up to work with a woman. Navy SEALs don’t have women in their ranks, so every woman must be below your superior standards.”

She knew more about him than he did about her, and that made him tentative. With less intel than the enemy, he was at a disadvantage and had to proceed cautiously. “That’s … not what I meant either. For the past six months I’ve been the linchpin between a dozen different entities involved in transferring a six-location car dealership. Before that I was a soldier, always taking orders, always working with a team. Is it wrong to crave one solo mission at some point in my life?”

“It’s not wrong,” said Nessa, “but you might want to try a filter once in a while before vomiting your thoughts out into the world.”

Sutton was enjoying himself far too much, leaning back in his chair and observing the verbal tennis match. It occurred to Baron that he’d been kept in the dark about Nessa on purpose. This was a test. Sutton wanted to know how well Baron would roll with a change in plans, to find out if he would adapt and overcome. It would take more than some pretty, exasperating partner to ruin this opportunity for him.

Pulling the curtain down on his face over his emotions, Baron said, “What’s the mission, boss?”

Sutton became all business as well. “Miss Dimmick is one of the brightest new stars in the field of information management.”

“Oh, Miss Dimmick is it?” asked Baron, trying to get past the confrontation to a fun banter. He was not disappointed to find out she was single.

“Actually, Lord Luzader, since we’re being formal, it’s Doctor Dimmick.” She winked at him. “But unlike your title, I actually earned mine.”

She had him there. Of all the frustrating situations Baron had imagined in the Warrior Project, Doctor Nessa Dimmick had not been anywhere on his radar.