And he’d used his company’s influence to get huge discounts.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kowalski—”

A pained look passed over that rough face. “Douglas, please.”

“Douglas. Thank you for all the help your company provided. I understand you essentially footed the bill.” She gave a pointed glance at Joe. “One I am not allowed to reimburse.”

Something warm and heavy settled around her shoulders. Joe’s arm.

Douglas’s head jerked back in astonishment. “Good God, fu—er...there’s no question of that. Joe’s just making sure you’re safe. I know I’d make sure no one can look in on my wife, make sure she’s safe. The same for Metal and Jacko.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jacko muttered. He didn’t have Douglas’s aversion to the f-bomb in front of a lady. “No one’s getting near Lauren. Told you that.”

Douglas’s gaze sharpened as his deep rough voice softened. He took one of her hands in his. His hands were large, callused. Not a businessman’s hands. “I understand you’re one of the few to survive the Washington Massacre, Isabel. That’s more violence than anyone should have to live through in a lifetime. All Joe wants—and now that we know you, all anyone wants—is to make sure you’re safe. And while I’m at it, I want to say how sorry I am about the loss of your family.”

Isabel blinked furiously to hide the sudden spurt of tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Joe’s big arm around her shoulders, Metal and Jacko watching her, Douglas holding her hand gently. They were all trying to say the same thing. Somehow, through Joe, Isabel had come under the protection of some remarkable men. Douglas made that clear. He was treating her as if she were a family member, not a casual acquaintance of one of his employees.

All four men were letting her know, as clearly as possible, that they were on her side.

No one had been on her side since the Massacre.

She was a hair away from breaking down and bawling.

“Oh!” Douglas let go of her hand and dug into his coat pocket. “I almost forgot these!” He held out two slender rectangles of paper to her.

Isabel’s eyes opened wide and her heart rate kicked up a notch in her chest. “Oh my gosh! These are tickets to the concert next week by Allegra! She’s one of my favorite singers.” She checked the seat numbers. “And front row seats! How’d you score these? I called and the show is all sold-out.”

Joe snickered.

Douglas smiled, his scar pulling. “Let’s say I have connections.” He pointed a long finger at Metal and Jacko. “Four tickets for you guys are in the office. I left them with Maddie.”

They nodded. Joe bent down to Isabel’s ear. “Allegra is Douglas’s wife.”

Isabel froze. Allegra was Douglas Kowalski’s wife? She was a noted singer and harpist and the fact that she was beautiful hadn’t hurt her career at all. She had a fey, Celtic beauty and played the harp beautifully and had the voice of an angel.

She glanced up at Douglas’s face. Tough, ugly, scarred. Like his body.

Allegra’s husband.

He stood, smiling slightly, while she processed this. Clearly something he’d done many times before.

He nodded at her. “Ma’am. Gents.” This with a faint smile at Joe, Metal and Jacko. “See you all at the office.” He pointed at Joe who had a big grin on his face. “Not you, soldier. You’re coming in when bones tells you can, and not a day sooner.”

And he turned around and walked back to his SUV.

Isabel clutched the tickets happily. Allegra in concert! Joe in her bed! New friends! Life was really looking up.

* * *

Kearns broke into a beat-up pickup. He was wearing gloves and anyway he had every intention of bringing the piece of shit right back to its owner. He’d never know it was gone. All Kearns wanted to do was drive around the block. This was his third drive-by in as many hours. He’d used a different vehicle and wore a different hat each time.

It should be okay. Though nothing else was okay.

There were two men helping Joe Harris make Isabel Delvaux’s house secure and they were doing a good job of it.

Kearns drove as slowly as he dared and on each drive-by he was alarmed at what he was seeing. Motion sensors, all around her house and Harris’s. Spotlights. Keypads at the door. Some kind of film on the windowpanes that made them opaque.

Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to know if she was even home?

And if Joe Harris was a former SEAL, chances were the other two guys were, too. Kearns remembered the Special Forces fucks who waltzed in and out of bases. They didn’t salute and they dressed as civilians and they carried whatever the fuck they wanted as firepower.

And they stuck together.

So now Kearns was dealing not with one isolated and weak chick he could jerk off to. He was dealing with a chick who was fucking surrounded by SEALs and whose house was now a fortress.

How the hell was he going to tell Blake that? Blake wanted weekly reports and Kearns could fake it but it was dangerous. There was no question now of sneaking into her backyard in the evening and watching her. He couldn’t do too many drive-bys because there were now four vidcams on the front of the house and at least one of them would cover the street.

Blake would have the connections to have the house watched by a drone or even by a Keyhole Satellite but Kearns didn’t dare ask. That’s what he was here for. It was a cushy gig and there was more on the horizon and Kearns didn’t want to mess it up. This Joe Harris had pushed the panic button and he and his buddies put the bitch in lockdown.

So he’d go buy himself a small GoPro camera and stick it in the grass in the lawn across from her and monitor the vidcam. It was the only thing he could do.

Besides lie to Blake.

So she was fucking a SEAL. So what? She was still shaky on her feet, still the same woman. What could she possibly do that would endanger Blake?

Nothing. Kearns had had a setback, that was all. Setbacks were normal. He was coping. No need to report anything to Blake. He’d just continue his Portland existence like before and pad the reports.

* * *

“I really want to thank you guys again,” Isabel said for the billionth time as she put something else amazing on the table. What was it? Joe leaned over to pull in the smells. Something stuffed with stuff and covered with stuff. “I really appreciate what you did for me today.”

Silence except for chewing.

Joe swallowed and touched her arm. She looked so anxious, as if she had this huge debt to pay down. It hurt him to see her like that. The truth was that the three of them had had fun setting up the gear. A lot of it was bleeding edge that they’d be using again.

He pointed to Metal and Jacko with his fork. “They’re not answering because they’re too busy stuffing their faces.”

“Oh man.” Metal speared something small and brown. “What is this?”

Isabel smiled. “Warm gorgonzola-filled dates.”

Metal’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa.” He speared another four of them, put them in his mouth and moaned. “I want the recipe for everything on this table.”

“Sure. I have everything on file. I’ll email them to you.”

“Metal cooks,” Joe offered.

Metal shook his head. “Not like this, I don’t. Man.” He rolled his eyes. “This is like another kind of activity. Not cooking. Something else. Magic, maybe.”

She giggled then covered her mouth. Yes. That’s how Joe wanted to see her. Exactly like that. Blushing with pleasure.

For a second he was blindsided by a sudden intensely sensory memory of Isabel blushing during a climax. He remembered his face buried in her hair, her hands clutching his shoulders, her sex pulsing around his dick. It punched him, hard. He froze, barely breathing while his dick, which didn’t need oxygen, stiffened.

Not here. Not now.

Joe was pretty good at compartmentalizing. He could put lust where it belonged, in the box labeled Off Duty. He controlled his dick, it didn’t control him. Except right now, in front of his teammates.