2. Knox

Knox stretched out in the airplane seat and closed his eyes, enjoying one last moment of relative peace before they landed in Saint Vincent. "Relative" because the jet engines were still damn loud. He'd been in this position many times before, flying off to far-flung corners of the world—okay, more often on military transport than a private jet—but he'd dreaded few jobs as much as this one. He'd taken the role with Blackwood because Emmy Black had a reputation for getting things done. For making a difference. For challenging her team to do the impossible.

If he'd known that he'd end up kissing celebrity ass, he'd have worked someplace else.

"Gotta take the rough with the smooth," Ryder muttered as he scrolled through the background file. After the briefing from Lita, a logistics manager who worked with the executive protection team, he'd lost some of his initial enthusiasm.

"Yeah, my mom used to say that."

Usually about Knox's father. Despite everything Knox had accomplished on the battlefield, putting that motherfucker in jail was his greatest achievement to date, although if his mom ever found out what Knox had done, it would destroy their fragile relationship.

"Luna's daddy is an English duke. He hooked up with her mom while he was drunk."

"Yeah, I heard."

After Lady P's "rotten branch" comment, Knox had gotten curious and looked it up. Luna Maara had been causing controversy since before she was born. Her mom, a Vegas showgirl, had sold the story of her wild night with the Duke of Southcott when she was eight months pregnant, and the paternity suit had been covered in salacious detail too. Knox had no idea how much contact Luna had with her father's side of the family, but probably not much if Lady P's acerbic remarks were anything to go by. Luna was her fifth cousin once removed, whatever that meant.

"And her mom used to dance half-naked on stage. Gemma Puckett, better known as Amethyst."

Knox had seen her at the hotel in Antigua, a tall, slender woman with bleached blonde hair and talon-like fingernails who must have had work done to look that good at fifty. Emmy was absolutely right about Luna's attitude—she'd inherited her mom's personality along with her looks. Sure, Mom was more subtle with the demands, but she still had the staff dashing around after her.

"Ambition runs in the family."

And Luna's cousin also worked with her. Jubilee was her name.

"Did you get to the part about the agent? He stays in Las Vegas."

"Smart guy. He gets to milk the cash cow from a distance while we have to get up close and personal. Ever rethink your career?"

Knox had meant it as a joke, but Ryder appeared to give the question serious consideration.

"Sometimes." And then, more quietly, "I nearly ended up selling tractors."

"What the fuck?"

"Shylah's dad owns Birkley Machinery. It's the largest agricultural equipment dealership in Iowa. After I decided to quit the Navy, she figured we'd go back there, and…" He trailed off. "Man, I just couldn't do it."

Ryder didn't talk about his ex-wife much, but Knox got the impression the breakup hadn't exactly been amicable. Because she'd disagreed with his chosen career path? This life wasn't easy on a family, Knox knew that. It took a special kind of woman to wait in the wings while her man put himself in danger, a true unicorn, and he'd never managed to find one.

Not that he'd looked very hard.

With love came loss, and with loss came heartache. Knox never wanted to experience that devastating pain again.

And Ryder was zero for two. There had been another woman once, a long time ago. Neve. He didn't talk about her much, but one dark February evening, soon after they moved into the house in Rybridge, Ryder had started drinking, and he hadn't stopped. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he'd confessed that he was thinking of the woman he'd lost. His high-school sweetheart, the woman he should have married instead of Shylah. The next day, he'd sobered up and never spoken of her again.

"You wouldn't have lasted six months selling farm equipment." Knox looked out the window to the vivid blue sea, to the distinctive black sand beaches and the runway that was fast approaching. "Although if the guy still has openings, I might be interested."

* * *

Thanks to Lita, there was a car on standby at the airport in Saint Vincent, and they transferred their luggage for the ten-minute drive to the marina. There, the yacht would be waiting, along with Luna Maara, Kory Balachandran, and a dozen more twenty-somethings with more money than manners.

The driver didn't seem impressed when Knox told him their destination, more relieved.

"You'll be settin' sail tonight, then?"

"No, we're staying here for a few days."

Was that a grimace?

"Maybe you should try visitin' Bequia? It's a beautiful island. Or Puerto Rico? If you're lookin' for nightlife, you won't find it here."

Knox saw the suggestion for what it was—a not-so-subtle hint to leave. Luna and her friends had upset the islanders already? They'd only been there for three days.

"We're just the hired help, buddy."

This time, the driver's glance was more sympathetic. "Then I hope you're gettin' paid well."

Cleopatra, the hundred-and-forty-foot tri-deck yacht Kory's father had named after his fourth wife, gleamed in the sun at the end of the dock, sparkling water lapping at her hull. A deckhand in a white polo shirt and black shorts polished gleaming brass fittings, and two more staff struggled across the passerelle with an oversized cooler. Dance music blasted out across the marina, and a pair of women in bikinis were dancing on the top deck. Was one of them Luna? Knox couldn't tell from a distance.

"Good luck," the driver said as they unloaded their luggage. Packing had taken longer than it usually did because of instructions such as "all clothing will be black or white," and "no synthetic fibres to be worn by staff," and "toiletries must be vegan and cruelty-free." The rider also specified that staff shouldn't have facial hair, but fuck that. They were contractors, not employees. Ryder was rocking a short beard, and Knox's was a little longer. If he'd known he'd be assigned to this job, he'd have gone full Gandalf. As it was, he'd had to tie his hair back in a man-bun to avoid falling foul of the "no hair past the collar" stipulation.

When it came to weapons, they were travelling light. The logistics team had secured permits for one handgun each, and they'd stashed a couple of knives in their luggage. Plus they had the usual zip ties, binoculars, night-vision goggles, first-aid kit, flashlights, and survival gear, as well as diving equipment in case they got any downtime.

Knox waved to the security guard in the marina office as they walked past. "We're here to join the Cleopatra's crew," he called.

The guard waved back. "Better you than me, man."

Great fucking start.

"Did you bring earplugs?" Ryder asked as they lugged the bags along the dock.

"Yeah. You?"

"A half-dozen pairs. We're gonna need them."

They made it onto the Cleopatra's swim platform, complete with guns, before anyone stopped them, and even then it was only a willowy brunette who definitely wouldn't present a challenge to a deranged fan with ill intentions. A crew member? The clipboard in her hand suggested she was staff, but she was wearing a shapeless blue sundress and Converse.

"Can I help?" she asked.

"Knox Livingston and Ryder Metcalfe here for Ms. Maara."

Whose legal name was Luna Maara Puckett, but she seemed to have erased the surname from her identity.

"Are you the bodyguards?"

"That's right."

"Uh, did you get the briefing pack?"

"Rest assured, our dopp kits are entirely vegan."

"But your hair…"

"We're not cutting our hair for a two-month contract."

"Luna won't be happy about that."

"Seems from the briefing notes that Luna isn't happy about a lot of things. We're here to keep her alive, not to participate in a fashion parade."

That earned them an unexpected smile and a giggle that turned into a snort when the brunette tried to swallow it down.

"I can't say you're wrong." She held out a hand. "I'm Jubilee."

So this was Luna's cousin? The background report said she worked on Luna's social media team, so Knox hadn't expected to see her ticking off arrivals at the back of the boat. Jubilee looked as if she'd be more at home behind the camera than in front of it. Her hair was scraped back in a low ponytail, and instead of jewellery, she wore a rubber bracelet with "You've got this" printed on it. Wishful thinking? Her nails were chewed to the quick.

For a moment, Knox felt bad for not visiting the barber.

"Good to meet you."

"Where's the rest of your luggage?" she asked.

"This is all of it."

"Puzzled" seemed to be Jubilee's default operating state. "Only two bags each? Really?"

"Really."

"Well, okay then. You haven't worked with Luna before, have you?"

"Never had that pleasure." Knox's smile felt like more of a grimace. "But our team has carried out background research, so we'll be able to hit the ground running."

"Background research?" Jubilee didn't have much success with smiling either. "Oh dear. Uh, so I'll show you to your cabin, and then you can go meet Luna in the flesh."

* * *

Jubilee hadn't been kidding about the "flesh" part. They found Luna on the upper deck in a tiny blue bikini, perched on the edge of a hot tub as a crew member held two portable fans on her and a guy in a pastel-pink polo shirt and loafers took photos.

"Turn the fans on higher. My hair needs to look windswept, like the yacht's moving. Kory, don't get that ugly fishing boat in the shot. Wait. Wait!" She adjusted her bikini top to cover up two small moles that nestled in the cleavage she didn't have. "Okay, now."

The guy in the polo shirt was DJ Sykik? Knox had expected something edgier. His promo pictures showed him standing behind a dimly lit mixing desk with a pair of headphones around his neck, usually with a crowd in the background and a bunch of glow sticks. In reality, he looked as if he'd taken a wrong turn out of the Hamptons.

"Can't Jubilee photoshop the fishing boat out?" he asked.

"Probably."

"Ma'am, the fans are already at their highest speed."

"Then get another one." Luna spoke to the crew member slowly, enunciating each word as if she were dealing with a toddler. "Do I have to think of everything?" She spotted Knox. "Hey, you—take Jubilee's clipboard and fan me."

Good start.

"Can't do that, ma'am."

"Why not? Don't your arms work?" Then she caught sight of Ryder and narrowed her eyes. "Which part of ‘no facial hair' do you two not understand?"

Ryder stepped forward. "The part where our next job could be in a country where a beard is necessary to blend in, and shaving it off could compromise our team's safety as well as our own. Ma'am," he added as an afterthought.

"You're the bodyguards?"

"We are."

"Your agency sent photos, and you didn't have a beard then," she said accusingly. "They don't fit my aesthetic."

"Well, before I joined my current team, my boyfriend and I both shaved our beards for a charity fundraiser. That's when the picture was taken."

Knox's lips twitched, and then he felt a rumble of annoyance that he hadn't thought of the idea first. Pretending to be gay? Genius.

Although Luna didn't share that sentiment. "You're gay?"

"Is that a problem?"

Her mouth set in a thin line. "Just fan me."

"Right now, we have a security audit to perform."

"A what?"

"A security audit. We need to evaluate the environment and assess for possible threats."

"But we're on a boat."

"Yacht," Kory muttered.

"We're aware of that, ma'am."

"Nobody's going to harm me on a boat. We're surrounded by water."

"The two of us just walked on board, no questions asked, no ID requested, and we're both armed," Knox told her. "Changes need to be made around here."

Jubilee hung her head, and Knox felt a little guilty for that, but that didn't alter the fact that she'd let them walk right up to Luna. If the threats against their new client were serious, then he and Ryder had to set feelings aside and focus on the goal: securing her safety. A part of him wondered if the security guard in the marina office actually hoped a bad actor would show up. If a willing kook shot out the speakers, at least he'd get some peace.

"Hold on a minute…" Kory started, but Luna held up a hand, stopping him.

"Shush. I'll handle this." She stepped forward on bare feet and snapped her fingers. "Phone." Like magic, a crew member scurried over and placed it in her hand. "I don't know who you think you are, but how dare you interrupt my day and start making demands? Don't you understand your job? You're here to stop fans from bothering me, and apart from that, you keep out of the way." She jabbed at the screen, then put the phone to her ear. "Mom? We need to get new security."

She spoke smugly, clearly used to making demands. Knox couldn't decide whether he felt sorry for her mom or relished the schadenfreude because Amethyst Puckett had probably schooled her daughter to act that way. Either way, he felt no small measure of joy when Luna's smile faded.

"What do you mean, there's no other security available? Fine. Fine. Just get rid of them. I'm not putting up with them and their changes."

If thunderclouds were sentient, Luna Maara would have been their pin-up girl. Her expression darkened, and she threw the phone into the hot tub.

"Get out of my sight," she snapped. "I don't want to see you or hear you for the rest of this trip. Jubilee, I need a drink."

Knox glanced at Ryder and tried not to smirk. This was going great so far.