Excerpt One:
“Baggs,” BD said somewhere behind them, “how do you know our guest?”

Cal inhaled sharply and his muscles tensed.

“Io is my wife.”

The words hit her like a jolt. Of course he’d say it like that—direct, unvarnished, a fact dropped into the room like a grenade. Her stomach twisted. She kept her eyes closed for one more heartbeat, wishing she could stay in the place where she felt safe and not the place where reality waited. She hated that part of her still wanted the title he’d walked away from.

Silence sharpened around them.

Io stepped back.

Cal’s arms tightened for a split second, and then he released her. The loss of his warmth was immediate, a cold draft across her skin despite the humidity of Trujillo. She forced herself not to reach for him again. Forced herself to remember why she shouldn’t. She’d already learned what happened when she let herself believe she belonged with him.

She turned to her sister.

Exactly what she’d expected. Hurt, anger, tears. “Ayla—”

“You got married?”

Oz moved to Ayla’s side. Io felt a flicker of gratitude and irritation. It had always been her job to protect Ayla. To absorb the hard things so her sister didn’t have to.

She shot Cal a look. “We eloped. We went to Las Vegas while Cal had leave.”

“Vegas? Did you get married by an Elvis impersonator?”

Oz tugged Ayla closer.

Io felt her temper climb. “Sure, showgirls and all. What else would you get at a Vegas wedding? Certainly not a real chapel with a real minister.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did. I’m sorry I hurt you, but you don’t get to take free shots at my wedding.” Cal and Oz stayed wisely silent. 

“When did you get married?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Hell. “January.”

“It’s July.” Ayla threw that out like a gauntlet. “You had months to tell me.”

“And the marriage isn’t in your personnel file,” BD added to Cal. “I would have seen that.”

Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

BD waited. When Cal stayed quiet, he said, “Notification protocols, benefits, next-of-kin—”

“Io has her own health coverage. She’s not dependent on me.”

She wasn’t dependent on anyone. Not now. Not ever.

“And if you were injured or killed?” BD pressed. “I never would have known to contact Ms. Desmond.”

Io flinched. She didn’t want to think about Cal dying, but his job came with risks. Serious ones.

Ayla’s gaze was sharp, wounded. “That’s why I didn’t see you in February, isn’t it? You were with him!” She pointed at Cal as if she were a noir detective.

Sighing, Io said, “Cal was stationed in Germany. The commute to California was a little tough.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t call. Or text.”

“It wasn’t a vacation.”

“It was a honeymoon.”

That hit hard. Io was too tired for this. Cal stood behind her, close enough she could feel him, and she wished, just for a second, that she could lean into him the way Ayla leaned into Oz. But she was the strong one. The one who held everyone else up. She didn’t get to lean.

“Ay, I’m not going to argue. I’m sorry I hurt you. It was never about hurting you. If you want to keep ripping at me, we can do it later. In private.”

“I don’t want to rip at you, I just want to know why you shut me out.”

Io eyed the table. She could reach it, hold on, stay on her feet. Her energy was gone and Ayla’s questions were the hard stuff.

They’d both been shaped by their parents, but in opposite ways.

Her vision blurred. The room tilted. She swayed.

Cal moved before she even registered she was unsteady enough to fall. It was pure instinct, nothing more. Certainly not love. She knew that. But his arms locked around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. Solid. Unyielding. Familiar in a way that made something inside her crack.

“I got you, Io,” he murmured, voice low against her ear. “I told you that earlier.”

She let her hands drift to his, trying to remember how to stay upright. Her muscles trembled with the effort. 

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” Io forced her gaze to meet her twin’s. Her throat burned. “Because we got married in January and it was over in March. That’s why. Happy now, Ayla?”

 

Excerpt Two:
“Archer—my boss—had intel that someone named Fuentes was after the treasure, but couldn’t get more.”

“So he sent you down and you kicked a hornet’s nest.”

She jerked her hand free. “I didn’t kick anything.”

His gut clenched, stupid and instinctive, the words scraping against an old wound he never talked about. He covered his fear with irritation. Anger was cleaner, sharper, easier to control. “And yet you were kidnapped.”

Io shot to her feet. “I did not kick anything. I hadn’t even done much when I was grabbed. I didn’t realize the words Paladin League were tantamount to waving a red flag and shouting I know where the treasure is.”

Cal stood and closed the distance. “You were down here for days.”

“I was working on my article while I got the lay of the land.” She glared at him. “I traveled to San Isidro, interviewed people, took pictures. The only thing I did in Trujillo was visit the convent the day after I returned.”

“The convent surrounded by men belonging to an arms dealer.” He glared back. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see them.”

“I saw them.” She crossed her arms. “I figured I’d be tailed. I was. I also figured I could lose them. I did.”

The cockiness. It made him insane. “They grabbed you and held you prisoner.”

“They did not. Torres and his men never touched me. They weren’t even that interested in me. It was easy to shake them off my ass.”

“Maybe too easy. Did you think of that?”

“Of course I did.” She stepped closer. “I didn’t just look behind me and say oopsie daisy, they lost me. I made sure my tail was clear.”

“You were compromised.”

“I was targeted. That’s different.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

She opened her mouth, shut it, and then shook her head. “I’m too tired to argue. Believe whatever the hell you want.”

 

Excerpt Three:
“You’re on the op. He’s using your idea and assigning someone to play the mercenary-bodyguard. I want the role. I want to work for you. But I need your agreement.”

Now she understood. “I don’t think working together is a good idea. You’ll get in my way, try to bubble-wrap me. I can’t operate like that.”

Nodding, Cal said, “The Big Dog already extracted a promise that I wouldn’t interfere. He made it clear you’re in charge and whoever plays your bodyguard is your subordinate.” He hesitated, jaw tight. “I know it won’t be easy for me. I’m not pretending otherwise.”

“So BD didn’t assign you.”

“No, not yet. He said I wasn’t getting the job unless you agreed. He gave me until the briefing to talk you into it.”

This was more like the Cal she knew.

“Why do you want the assignment? If you can’t hide me away, all it’ll do is raise your blood pressure. We’re better off if I work with someone else.”

A long moment. Then Cal spoke softly. “This is a good team. They’re capable, honorable, trustworthy. But Io? I can’t trust anyone else to watch over you. They might kill to protect you, but I don’t know if any of them would die to keep you safe. I would. That’s why I want to be your partner.”

Her heart stuttered before she forced herself to breathe. He meant it, and that was the problem. To him, dying for her was his duty. To her, it was another weight she refused to carry. “No. I don’t want you to die for me. I’m not agreeing.”

Cal took her hand and Io fought the instinct to pull free. 

“I wish you’d reconsider. The odds I’ll need to sacrifice my life are small. And look at it this way—I’m on this op even if I’m not your partner. I’ve been working it for weeks. This way you can keep your eyes on me and make sure I stay safe.”

A familiar tightness curled under her ribs. Of course he’d frame it like that, turning his death into a tactical advantage, turning her into the one responsible for preventing it.

Her lips curved anyway, the expression more armor than amusement. “Clever argument.”

“I thought so.”

“We still have a major issue. I’d have to trust you not to interfere, and I’m not sure I can.”

“I know. BD said even if you agreed, he’d replace me in a heartbeat if you whispered a complaint. He wasn’t bluffing. If I get in your way, tell him and you’ll work with Ski. He’s a good guy. Intense, but that won’t bother you.”

Io didn’t speak, thinking it through.

She was used to working alone. She didn’t want a partner. But the players here were dangerous, and she couldn’t monitor every angle alone. She needed someone watching her back. It was either Cal or a stranger.

Neither option thrilled her. But she needed time.

Slipping her hand free, she stood. “I’ll think about your offer.”

She didn’t look back.