I sipped my coffee and glanced around the large conference room at Marshall Security Incorporated. Decorated in what I’d call “man style” with dark woods and black leather, it was a place men like me, former SEALs who detest overdone glamour, could feel comfortable.

That said, give me a solid truck, some camping gear, and my favorite knife and I’m in heaven.

But as I studied the hard faces of the men sitting at the long table with me, it was safe to say heaven or any place free of confrontation was a hell of a long way from our headquarters here in Denver.

My gaze settled on my boss, Lance Marshall, who glared across the table at the middle-aged man with flecks of silver in his expertly groomed hair.

“No wonder you said this meeting was urgent, Felix. You left it until now to tell me about the danger Paige was in?” Lance said in a low, threatening voice. My former SEAL team leader’s icy blue stare pierced our guest. Dressed in a designer suit and white shirt, Felix Monroe was the odd man out in a room with three men wearing black shirts and black cargoes and boots. “Her father was a mentor to me. I promised Phillip on his deathbed I’d look out for her. Jesus, why didn’t you come here sooner?”

Monroe lifted his chin, a muscle working in his jaw. I’d bet a dozen of the finest crafted beers in Denver few men addressed this billionaire with such a lack of deference.

But then, Lance Marshall wasn’t just any man, and neither was the team he had built around him.

Battle-hardened and deadly, we weren’t the normal company for such a sophisticated man as billionaire property developer Felix Monroe.

“I should have.” Monroe dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Especially with Paige turning twenty-five in ten days and coming into the first round of her inheritance. But I was hoping she would sort herself out after the last talk we shared. As her uncle, I’d previously enjoyed some small semblance of influence over her. But that has ceased to be.”

Paige Monroe. Sweetheart of the tabloids and social media. The woman in her mid-twenties had crafted a career out of being famous for her looks and hijinks. Legendary partying around the world was topped off with European princes following her to Denver begging for her hand in marriage.

Or at least that’s what Felix Monroe had outlined minutes ago.

And it appeared there was a wad of cash coming into the picture.

“It’s not just the partying and her refusing to take any advice. It’s the company she’s been keeping that worries me the most.” He lifted up his briefcase from beside his chair and drew out a piece of paper. “Including James Osborn.” Monroe slid the paper across the conference table.

A photo showed a male in his late twenties with messy, shoulder-length hair, and wearing jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like a D list wannabe celebrity. A show pony.

“The ex-boyfriend you mentioned earlier?” Eli Ford, one of my team mates, reached over and picked up the photograph. “What’s he into?”

“Drugs, gambling.” Monroe waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Whatever he can use to strike out against the world. He’s twenty-eight and acts like a teenager. Paige broke off their relationship a couple of months ago, thank God.” Monroe gave a relieved sigh. “But she has a soft spot for him, won’t cut him loose.”

“Why haven’t you warned Osborn off?” I studied Monroe, catching the way he sat straighter in the black leather chair at my question. “You’re a man of power and influence, used to getting your way.”

“It’s not that simple. As I said, Paige has a soft spot for him. And”—Monroe shifted in his seat, as if the chair was too small, cramping him—“his mother and I are…good friends.”

I didn’t bother hiding the note of scorn in my voice. “You’re having an affair with his mom so you can’t be mean to her son? At the expense of your niece?”

What a fucking weak-ass bastard.

Felix Monroe’s gaze narrowed on me before switching to Lance. “I won’t have one of your men insulting me about what is a delicate situation.”

“Ryder’s saying what the rest of us are thinking.” Lance pressed his hands to the table and rose from his chair. “I’ll take care of this matter, Felix. Your job now is to keep our meeting secret.”

Monroe blinked at Lance’s quick ending to the proceedings. “But…” He remained in his seat, glancing at Eli and me and then back to Lance. “What will you do? I thought we’d work out a plan together. I was thinking a restriction on her allowance for starters.”

“You had a chance to discuss this with me weeks ago. I admit I’ve been busy and not paid enough attention to Paige these last months.” Lance’s mouth tightened in what I guessed was self-recriminating anger. “I last caught up with her four months ago at a charity dinner raising funds for Veterans. She seemed settled, happy even, but I’m guessing she wouldn’t show any other side to me.”

I had no idea what the connection was between the late Phillip Monroe and Lance, but it was strong enough my boss cared for the man’s daughter.

“Then you understand Paige is skilled at making people believe she’s acting responsibly when the truth is altogether different. I can’t be blamed for her willful actions.” Monroe’s smug tone matched his smile.

Lance pushed a button on the small black console in front of him. “You’re a poor excuse for an uncle, Felix. Paige needs guidance, someone who’ll make the tough decisions needed to help her in the long term. I’m stepping in and taking over. I’ll update you when needed.”

Monroe opened his mouth to argue, but the door to the conference room opened and Deke Wallace, dressed in black t-shirt, blue jeans and boots, his short brown hair covered in a dark baseball cap, nodded to Lance. “Boss?”

“Show Mr. Monroe to the door, please.”

Felix Monroe, not a man used to being dismissed, turned his head between Deke and Lance. “You can’t just throw me out. I demand you tell me what you’re planning with regards to Paige.”

Too little, too late. “You gave up that right when you chose fucking Osborne’s mom over taking care of your niece.”

Maybe I spoke out of line, but judging from the way Lance remained quiet, he didn’t feel the need to correct me.

Deke’s bearded face broke into a grin as he approached Monroe. But it wasn’t friendly. Not when matched to the coldness in his gray eyes. Even more so with the firm way he gripped Monroe’s arm and helped him out the door.

The man’s protests dwindled in the distance, soon replaced with Deke’s return, along with Jake Carter, the fourth and last member of my former SEAL teammates who worked for Lance.

Our boss now had a large group of former Special Forces and tactical specialists working for him at Marshall Security and Investigations. But it was our team that made up Lance’s core command.

“I heard shouting and found Deke refining his customer relations skills in reception.” Jake sat down on the opposite side of the table to Lance, Eli and me.

“Deke has a way with unhappy clientele.” I studied Jake. His navy t-shirt looked wrinkled, and his short hair stood on end, like he’d just raked his hand through it with force. Shadows darkened the skin under his eyes. Something was up. “You look rough. What’s happened?”

Jake sighed. “It’s Charlotte.” He waved a hand at the way we all sat up alert. His wife was five months pregnant. “It’s nothing major. Well, not life threatening. Charlotte’s morning sickness is hitting her hard. We visited the ER last night. The doc said she’s dehydrated and put her on a drip.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can take her home tonight if she’s improved enough.”

“You need to be with your wife.” Lance’s words weren’t a suggestion.

“I agree, but my wife told me to get the hell away from her and stop fussing.” A wry smile played at his lips. “Hard to believe she was this sweet, innocent woman I rescued months ago.”

“You kidnapped her, asshole, and Charlotte’s always had backbone.” The woman wouldn’t have stood a chance of capturing my friend’s heart if she’d been a doormat. “Tell her I’ll visit in a few days.”

“Make that two of us will visit.” Eli gave Jake a chin lift.

“We’ll all go at the same time so the poor woman only has to suffer us at once.” Lance joked with a dry smile.

“I’ll get Sophie to call her and see if she wants female company at the hospital instead of your ugly face.” Deke suggested. “Noah’s at his new playgroup today, and Sophie’s feeling a little lost without him around.”

Noah being Deke’s two-year old son, one he hadn’t known about until a trip back to his childhood home three months ago. The baby was conceived during a visit with Sophie, the girl Deke had loved since he was a kid, over two years before. Needless to say, once Deke found out about his son, he set about making his new family a permanent fixture in his life.

“Back to the matter at hand.” I nodded at the photo on the table before looking to my right and directly at Lance. “What’s your connection to Paige Monroe and her father?”

Lance stared at the table a second before answering. “Phillip Monroe was the man who took me from the streets, gave me a job and set me straight before I joined the Navy.”

The men around the table remained quiet. Lance never shared much about himself, but on the odd occasion when we’d been sitting in foxholes in the desert, he’d told us enough to paint a picture of some serious hard living as a kid.

“Phillip caught me one night sleeping rough on one of his building sites. Long story short, he ended up giving me a job, cash in hand since I was too young to legally work construction.” Lance shrugged. “I was big for my age, acted tough. Nobody questioned me. From there, Phillip kept an eye on me, slowly took me under his wing. The man changed my life.” His voice dropped low and gruff on the last sentence.

I guessed those words came with a heavy load of memories for my boss. Clearly enough motivation to ensure the welfare of Phillip Monroe’s daughter.

I thought of my own parents back in California and how they’d always been there, no matter my choices. Sure, they kicked my ass when I needed to be set straight, but I’d always known I was loved. Even now, at thirty-one, my family called every week, checking up and generally butting their noses into my business, especially my mom in her desperate bid to find me a ‘nice girl’ so I could settle down.

Lord help me.

“Paige is running out of control.” Lance opened the notebook in front of him. “She needs to be taken in hand, isolated from her friends and given the tools and honesty to set herself straight.”

A spoiled tabloid princess? Pity the poor bastard who scored that assignment. “I’m sure you’ll find just the man for the job.”

“Glad you have such faith in my judgement, Ryder.” Lance started making notes. “You start tonight.”

“What?” I sat up straight in my chair. No. This was not the plan. “Why me?”

“You’re familiar with the local nightclubs.” Lance kept writing in his damn notebook, ignoring my growing frustration. “Paige is a creature of the social set. How many times have we fielded calls from women you’ve met at some club who want to adopt you and make worshipping you and your movie star looks their new hobby? Any initial meeting should go smoother with you compared to the other guys.”

If one of them said that fucking nickname, I’d—

“Hollywood’s the perfect choice.” Eli Ford, not one to smile often, was grinning like a fucking idiot. “With those good looks and blond hair, he’s a natural fit for the jet set brigade.”

I wondered how much Eli would be grinning when my fist smashed into his jaw. It would hurt like hell, but fuck, the satisfaction would be worth the cost. In fact, it would be fucking perfect.

“I like going out and enjoying myself. That doesn’t make me a fan of tabloids and online gossip sites.”

“Never said you were, but I want every advantage possible for this job. Being familiar with these clubs could help get Paige to open up about anyone trying to take advantage of her.” Lance looked up from his notetaking. “Besides, Jake’s busy with Charlotte being ill. Deke’s still working on research for an upcoming mission in Houston, and Eli’s just come off a job in Atlanta. You’re up next.”

“Face it, Hollywood, you’re the man for the job.” Deke laughed outright at my deadly glare. “Think of the plus side. Maybe she could give you tips on how you can add volume to your hair?”

Jesus. “A man goes a couple of weeks without getting his hair cut and he’s branded a pretty boy for life.” I pointed a finger in Deke’s direction. “I’ve never used product in my hair, you ass, and never will.”

“As much as I’m enjoying everyone having fun at Ryder’s expense”—Lance shot me a wry look—“we need to lock down the planning of this mission. Not only am I concerned about Paige, but as Felix mentioned, her turning twenty-five in ten days adds urgency to the mix. On her birthday, she receives fifty million from her father’s estate.”

Fifty mil? No small change.

“That will tide her over until she gets access to the bulk of her inheritance, the five hundred million, when she turns thirty.”

Five hundred million would be more than enough motivation for someone like James Osborn to go the distance for another five years.

“Ryder, make whatever calls needed to ensure nobody’s asking after you for the next ten days. You’re radio silent to the world except for Marshall Security. We’ll use the cabin outside of Evergreen.” Lance named a mountain town thirty minutes from Denver. “Only a few of us know its location. I want Paige secured and cut off from her friends and hangers-on by early tomorrow morning.”

“Just me and Princess Paige,” I muttered, developing a deeper dislike for this mission with every passing second.

Lance nodded, his gaze pinning my ass to my seat. “You have my permission to do what’s necessary to keep her safe and secured. Paige won’t go easy. But remember, I care about that girl. You hurt her, I’ll cut your balls off, deep fry them, and force feed them to you all the while you’re screaming for mercy.”

I didn’t doubt Lance’s ability to torture me. Aged forty and as fit as a man ten years younger, my boss led from the front now, just as he did when we were SEALs. That didn’t mean I could let him get away with his threat.

Giving him my trademark Hollywood smile, I rose from my chair and moved toward the door. Before I exited the room, I turned back. “You forget, boss, I don’t eat fried foods. Fucks up my low body fat percentage.”

I left, hearing the groans and chuckles of the men behind me and allowed myself a moment to savor my win. I had a feeling it would be a while before I enjoyed one again.

Ten days in fact.