Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

I stood in the hallway outside the presidential suite of the Huxley Grand New York while Nate and Sloan chatted inside. It made me think of my sister's wedding day. God, that day had been so fucked up. I'd barely held it together.

I paused before the door to the penthouse suite, tugging at my collar. My dress uniform felt as if it were strangling me, but I knew it was merely the idea of seeing Sloan again after so long. We'd promised not to let whatever happened between us affect our relationship with Greer, and I had to trust that Sloan would keep her word as she always had. Even though I knew today—my sister's wedding day—would be trying.

I smoothed my hands down my pants and straightened, knocking on the door. A butler, a freaking butler, answered.

And this was the world Sloan lived in. The world she'd grown up in and the world that she'd be expected to command when she was older. It was so far removed from my own, she might as well have lived on a different planet.

"Sir?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. Right . "I'm here to walk my sister down the aisle. Could you let my mom know I'm here?"

He stepped aside, inviting me in. "Of course. Would you like a drink?"

I shook my head, though the idea was tempting. "No. Thank you."

"I'll will inform Mrs. Shaw that you've arrived."

He disappeared, and I scanned the suite. There were bags and wedding stuff everywhere, but the place was huge. I couldn't even imagine what something like this would cost.

"Oh, Jackson." Mom lifted a shaky hand to her mouth. "You look so handsome."

I'd been so lost in my thoughts, I'd barely heard her enter. I shook my head as if to clear it. I was always aware of my surroundings. Always.

"Thanks, Mom." I gave her a hug. "You look beautiful." And she did. Radiant and happy despite the fact that it should've been my dad walking Greer down the aisle, not me.

"Always the charmer." She gave my cheek a pat. "Greer is so relieved you made it. We all are."

"Thanks, Mom. Where is she?"

"Through there. With the bridesmaids." She linked her arm through mine. "Marcie's daughter is free if you're ? —"

"I'm not." I cut her off.

"Okay. I'm sure you don't need my help with women, but, well—" She sighed. "When are you going to settle down? Give me grandchildren?"

"Mom," I sighed, trying not to lose my shit. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know about Sloan. No one did. And it wasn't like it mattered now. We were over. "I just moved to a new city. Started a new job. I'm still finding my footing."

"I know." She patted my arm. "I know. I just… I want you to be happy."

"What makes you think I'm not?" I asked, thinking of it as more of a rhetorical question.

But of course, she didn't. "I know it's been rough for you. Leaving the SEALs, changing careers. Moving cross-country."

She didn't know the half of it. But at least I'd been granted an honorable discharge in time for my sister's wedding, allowing me to wear the dress uniform everyone expected. Everyone except Sloan—the one person who knew the truth.

"You should talk to Sloan," she suggested, and I tried not to panic. Did she suspect…something? I tried to get a read on her, knowing it would be best to keep my mouth shut despite my fears. But then Mom said, "She's going through some similar changes herself. I bet she'd understand. I bet she'd appreciate a friend."

I wondered if Sloan had felt as lost as I had. It didn't matter that I'd moved across the country; I saw her everywhere. Even now, a year later, her face was the last thing I saw when I fell asleep. She was my home, and I couldn't escape her, no matter how hard I tried.

Before I could ask what changes Mom referred to, she ushered me toward a bedroom. "They're in there."

"Is everyone decent?" I called, my heart rate ratcheting up at the idea of seeing Sloan.

"Come in," Greer called.

I opened the door, and Greer stood in the middle of the room, a veil cascading down her back.

"Greer." My voice cracked on her name. My baby sister looked stunning, but I couldn't help imagining Sloan standing there, waiting for me in a white dress. My heart shuddered, and I blinked away the vision. "You look beautiful."

Greer smiled. So serene. So mature. When the hell had that happened?

"Thank you." A tear leaked out, and she quickly wiped it away. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too." I hugged her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Dad would be so proud of you."

"I wish he were here," she whispered.

"Me too." I gave her another squeeze. "But he's here in spirit." I patted my chest, where a few of his medals were pinned to my uniform.

I felt the weight of them, the honor. He was a hero, and I was…a failure.

"Oh, Jackson." She lifted her hand to my chest, admiring the awards. "Thank you. I love that."

I subtly scanned the room for the one person I wanted to see. All the bridesmaids were dressed in black evening gowns, but my attention was pulled, as always, to Sloan. Even when she shied away from the spotlight. Even when she was trying to avoid me, I sensed her presence.

Sloan stood off to the side, her back to me. The black dress clung to her form, making my mouth water. I wanted her. I wanted to go to her. To ask how she was.

I studied her reflection. Her expression was imperious and unreadable. This situation—unbearable.

I kept staring, begging her to meet my gaze. To look at me. Something.

But the moment she did, I regretted it. She was devastating. Her gaze was heated, burning with equal parts want and hate. Hell, I hated myself most days. Knowing what I'd done to us, to her.

Yes, I'd lied. But so had she.

And this was exactly why I'd skipped the rehearsal dinner. My absence hadn't been due to a delayed flight, as I'd told my mom. Because, as always, I was trying to protect Sloan. To do what was best for her, even when it nearly killed me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of the past. Fuck. Get your head on straight.

Vaughn: How'd your meeting with the client go?

Me: That remains to be seen.

Vaughn: Turn your history from a conflict into an asset.

He had no idea what he was asking.

I was trying, but Sloan had kicked me out almost immediately. She'd said "No" the moment she'd laid eyes on me.

Fuck if that hadn't stung.

I'd expected her to put up a fight, but I hadn't expected this. I wished there were some way to reassure her that I was a professional. That I would protect her. That our past didn't have to affect our current circumstances, even if I found it difficult to compartmentalize the two.

Was I crazy for even considering it?

I thought about how badly I wanted the promotion. How lucky I was to be offered the position. But all of that faded when I considered the threats against Sloan. My vision clouded. How dare…

The door opened, and I half expected to see my mom waiting there. Inviting me in so I could walk my sister down the aisle. When all I could think about—all I could see—was Sloan. Always Sloan.

"You okay?" Nate asked.

I shook my head as if to clear it. Dwelling on the past wouldn't change the present, no matter how much I might wish it would.

"Yeah." I swallowed. "Yeah. I'm good."

Nate stepped into the hall, closing the door gently behind him. "Sorry about that." He sighed. "Don't take it personally. Sloan's been resistant to the idea of protection since day one."

I wanted to laugh. She might be opposed to executive protection, but this was most definitely personal.

After our accidental run-in in Abu Dhabi, I'd avoided her. I'd been a coward. I'd swapped with one of the other members of my team so I wouldn't have to pretend I didn't know Sloan.

I shoved my feelings down deep, wanting to do what was best for her, even if it ran contrary to my goals. "Perhaps we should see who else at Hudson is available to go with her."

Two months alone on a thirty-five-foot sailboat with Sloan was asking for trouble. Despite everything that had happened, it was as if the two of us couldn't be in the same room without our connection sparking to life. Hell, the last time we'd been alone was at my sister's wedding. And I knew how well that had ended.

I knew we'd be safe—at least, as safe as a sailor on open water could be. But if I couldn't trust myself to keep my emotions in check around Sloan for twenty minutes, how could I possibly do so for two months?

Emotions were a liability in my profession. Emotions were a distraction. Emotions got you killed.

That was a big reason why we were supposed to maintain a professional distance from the principal. For the sake of both their safety and our own. And having sex with the principal was absolutely forbidden.

"No." Nate's tone was firm. He was adamant. "Maverick said you're the best person for the job. And loath as we are to see you go, I agree. I don't want anyone else. I trust you."

He was right. As much as I was dreading this, I also couldn't imagine sending anyone in my place. This was something I needed to do as much for myself as for her. She might not be part of my life anymore, but she'd always carry a piece of my heart. And I couldn't imagine a world without Sloan in it.

"How do you want to play this?" I asked, knowing we needed some sort of strategy. "Good cop, bad cop?"

He clamped a hand on my shoulder. "Only cop." He grinned. "She's all yours."

Ha. Right. Sloan hadn't been mine in a long time. Not that Nate meant it like that. Not that he'd approve of my dating his sister.

I needed to get my head on straight, but that was what happened when I was with Sloan. She became my first priority, and nothing else mattered. It was both dangerous and addictive.

He released me and backed away. "Good luck, Jackson. You're going to need it."

Fuck.

I clenched and unclenched my fists once his back was turned. Closed my eyes and tried to recenter myself. But all that came to mind was the smell of wild roses and sunshine. My legendary control was slipping, and I hadn't even crossed the threshold.

Sloan Mackenzie.

A memory drifted to me, unbidden. Sloan smiling at me over her shoulder. Dark-brown hair flowing down her back in waves. Now, her hair barely grazed her collarbone, and it was sleek and straight.

I considered my options regarding the woman in the next room. I could think of a thousand things I'd rather do, but there was only one choice—walk through that door and face the only woman I'd ever loved.

I told myself I was doing it because I wanted the promotion, but this was Sloan we were talking about. If she needed me, I'd always be there for her.

I wiped my palms on my thighs and straightened. I was a soldier going into battle, and I would show no fear.

I opened the door and entered the suite. "Ms. Mackenzie," I said, addressing her formally, as I would any client. It was agency policy. And even if it weren't, using her last name was a sign of respect. A reminder of my position as her bodyguard.

"Ms. Mackenzie?" she scoffed. "I think we're long past such formalities, don't you?"

I kept my gaze trained on the painting across the room, even as she stepped closer.

"Jackson," she snapped, but I held steady. "The least you can do is look at me."

Slowly, I inclined my head, regretting it the moment my eyes met hers. They were an unusual shade of green. Pale, mysterious, captivating. Looking into her eyes was like glimpsing into her heart. She'd never been good at hiding her emotions—or at least, she hadn't been in the past.

Looking at her now, I wasn't sure what she was thinking. The thin press of her lips indicated anger. But otherwise, I found her difficult to read. Gone was the carefree girl with smiles like sunshine. She'd gotten better at masking her emotions in the past decade. It was…disappointing, to say the least.

She almost seemed like a different woman in her perfectly tailored suit and fuck-me heels. She was as beautiful as ever, but she had a coldness to her. An edge that hadn't been there before.

I could easily imagine Sloan commanding a boardroom. But I wondered if she ever smiled. If she was happy.

"You're not coming on this trip," she hissed. "I don't need a bodyguard." But what I heard was, "I don't need you." It hurt more than it should've, especially after all this time.

"The threats you've received would indicate otherwise." She wasn't the first principal who'd rejected my intrusion into her life; she wouldn't be the last.

I fully intended to ask her about the threats when she was less hostile. Though, judging from her expression, I doubted that would ever happen.

"I'm going to be in the middle of the ocean."

"And what about when you dock?" I asked. "What about when you spend a few days on an island? I received your proposed itinerary, and I'd like to suggest several modifications."

She scoffed. "First, you want to invade my solo sailing trip. And now, you insist on making modifications?" She turned away as if offended by my gall, when I was only trying to keep her safe.

"Your plans do not account for certain…contingencies," I said, though, really, I wanted to know why she hadn't invited her boyfriend along. A sailing trip like this was the kind we'd always discussed taking—together. And yet, she was planning to go alone.

"Contingencies?" she asked, her eyes sparking with anger. "Enlighten me, then. Because my route accounted for the need to refuel, restock, and rest. And it took into account weather and wind, though obviously, those will be reevaluated throughout."

"Yes." My tone was gentle. I was already on thin ice. "And you were thorough." She had been. Extremely so. It was a solid plan, well researched and considered, at least from a sailing standpoint.

"Then what's the problem?"

"You don't seem to appreciate the threat to your safety. You can't behave like you always have. A solo traveler is already in a vulnerable position." I shuddered at the statistics for women, not bothering to relay them. Unwilling to ever let Sloan become one of those statistics.

"Add in the fact that you're wealthy," I continued, though that was putting it mildly. Sloan was a billionaire. "And you're even more of a target."

She scoffed. "This isn't my first rodeo. It's not like I go around flashing my wealth."

"Perhaps not," I said, knowing firsthand that when it came to Sloan, things weren't always what they appeared. "But there's been a rash of thefts in the Caribbean as the season ramps up. Gangs on Jet Skis wearing clown masks and boarding boats with guns. Not to mention muggings at ATMs." I didn't stop when her eyes widened. Couldn't. I needed her to understand. I needed her to stay safe. "And even if you ignored all that, someone has been sending you threats."

Sloan had always been stubborn, but I'd never considered her particularly reckless. At least, I hadn't in the past.

"Are you trying to scare me?" Anger bled into her words. But beneath it, I sensed fear. Sloan was scared, even if she refused to admit it.

I tried to keep my cool. "I'm trying to get you to be realistic. I know you're not happy about the situation, but you can't continue to ignore it." No matter how much she might want to.

She turned away, walking over to the window and peering out at the skyline. I took the opportunity to study her. The shoulders of her suit tapered to her waist, nipping in before flaring out over her hips. Curves that had always been generous seemed even more so. And the way her skirt clung to her rounded ass had my cock standing up and taking notice.

I drank her in like a dying man who'd wandered the desert in search of water.

Her skirt had a slit up the back, giving me a rather tantalizing glimpse of her thighs. I could remember the feel of her skin beneath my hands. The birthmark that stained the quad of her right leg. I'd spent hours memorizing every inch of her. Hours in her arms. In her bed. Inside her.

And now, it was almost as if we were strangers. The distance between us had never seemed so great, even when we were on opposite sides of the world. At least then, I could imagine a different outcome. Imagine us in the past as we'd once been—in love and inseparable. Or dream of a future together, even if it would never come to pass.

She sighed, playing with her necklace and bringing me back to the present as she turned to face me once more. "What do you suggest?"

This was good. She might not trust me, but she'd given me an opening.

I grabbed a set of nautical charts, unfolding them on the table before setting some makeshift paperweights on top.

"Talk about old-school," she teased.

"You love it," I retorted before catching myself. I needed to remember our roles and the circumstances. Not slip back into our easy familiarity, no matter how tempting it may seem.

She's your principal. She's with another man.

"I do," she said softly. So softly, I almost hadn't heard her.

Hell, maybe I'd imagined the words. Longing to hear something positive from her lips. Wanting to know that I'd meant as much to her as she had to me.

I turned my attention to the charts, needing to focus on the present.

Paper charts were safer and more reliable in the sense that our travel plans couldn't be hacked. That said, I'd given a copy of our itinerary to Hudson and Sloan's family. I detailed my proposed route, hoping she would see my suggestions as the improvements they were—mostly in terms of security.

"I appreciate that you didn't completely change my plans," she said, her eyes still on the charts. "And getting to see the eclipse is an added bonus. It wasn't even on my radar."

My shoulders relaxed, relief washing over me at her acceptance. "Like I said, I just made a few tweaks to make it safer. And I thought you might enjoy the eclipse. Selfishly, I wanted to see it."

She let out a long breath, causing her lips to purse and my cock to harden. Jesus.

She'd always had this effect on me. It was…problematic, to say the least.

Vaughn's voice rang in my head. Turn a conflict into an asset.

Yeah. I was pretty sure this wasn't what he'd meant.

"Did you volunteer for this assignment?" she asked.

"No." In fact, I'd tried everything I could to extricate myself from it.

"Is there really no one else?" she asked, her expression weary.

I shook my head. There was never anyone but you.

I might not have been a saint in our years apart, but I'd never given my heart to anyone else. How could I when Sloan had always owned it?