Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Retired Air Force Reconnaissance Lieutenant Paul Braven risked his life most days of the week. He had for many years. He'd been on disturbing missions, had taken life and lost close friends. He'd felt fear for himself and others and horror at the depravity mankind was capable of.

He didn't think he'd ever been so off his game and out of sorts as he was right now.

Shay Cannon, the formerly ‘adorable little Shay', his old friend Darian's baby sister, was all grown up, had almost been raped and murdered by heartless criminals, and was currently clinging to him on the back of Aiden's Triumph Rocket.

When he'd heard a woman scream, rushed out of the cockpit, and zeroed in on the teal eyes of Shay Cannon, the world had stopped spinning. His mind had made up for the lack of the earth's rotations by spinning out of control. How could Shay be in the hands of filth like he was supposed to infiltrate and how was he going to rescue her from four armed thugs ?

Now as they sped along the highway, he had to continually remind himself she was safe and they were racing away from the danger. His heart was thumping as fast as it had when he'd formulated his plan, prayed, drawn his pistol, burst out of the cockpit, and started firing.

Four to one was never great odds and he knew he had to hit hard and fast. He'd been trained by the toughest and most demanding instructors in the U.S. Air Force and then his skills had been sharpened by the gifted and famed Aiden Porter. He knew how to triumph and how to take care of himself. It was Shay's safety that had his heart racing earlier tonight. Though he had to admit that Shay herself was now increasing his beats per minute.

He appreciated this beauty of a motorcycle, enjoyed the feel of racing on it through the night. He savored the feel of Shay pressed tight, her soft cheek resting against his bare back, her hands and arms wrapped around his bare abdomen a million times more. He'd give up riding motorcycles for life if he could have Shay cling to him like this instead.

He blinked and refocused. Shay was off limits. Just because she was all grown up did not mean he could date her. Her brother Darian despised him. Darian blamed Paul for his fiancée Carrie betraying him when Carrie threw herself at Paul, kissing him in front of the entire town. Later that day, Carrie had come to see Paul at his parents' home to declare her love, forcing him to reject her a second time, before she raced off on a mountain bike.

He'd tried to call Darian after she left his house, but his friend had already blocked his number. He hadn't known what to do. He'd been worried about her racing off on a trail by herself sobbing but it wasn't really something to call 911 about. He'd regrettably done nothing.

Carrie crashed, tragically bled to death from a head wound, and no one found her until later that night. Paul had lamented his role in her death and Darian's heartbreak ever since.

Only the sheriff, his parents, and two pastors knew that Paul was the last person to speak with Carrie before she died. They'd all told him he wasn't at fault and it was an accident, but he'd lived with the burden for years, not comfortable with it but having no idea how to relieve it. Darian would never forgive him, especially if he knew the entire truth. No way could Paul come between Shay and her only brother.

Shay was in a horrific situation, clinging to him for safety and in gratitude. She was not throwing herself at him. Yet she'd kissed him. Wow, had she kissed him! No kiss had been that mind-blowing, tantalizing, and incredible. Not for him.

He'd extended the kiss, even though he should've been rushing her off the plane. That wasn't smart. He needed to keep his head on straight, get her to safety, and go back to square one of infiltrating a crew or organization associated with the nefarious and at-large Benjamin Oliver. They had to find the brilliant monster. It was about a load of people being safe, and justice for the man's multitude of crimes.

Aiden's tech team believed the men on that plane were affiliated with Benjamin and would provide their easiest infiltration opportunity so far. They'd gained access to their plane's location and their pilot's cell phone. They'd worked their magic, intercepted and rewritten texts and Paul had been the pilot who got the access codes and showed up tonight while the other pilot planned to be there tomorrow.

Paul had messed up the opportunity. Everyone made mistakes on missions, but it was rare for Paul. This time he'd thrown the mission plan to the wind.

Shay shifted closer to him and his protective instincts flared. He'd ruin every mission if it meant keeping Shay Cannon, or any innocent person, safe. When he'd seen her, looking far too enticing in only her swimsuit, being groped and eyed like she was a four-course meal by those foul jerks, he'd barely kept his head on. He'd realized there was no way he was letting her fly to Dallas in those men's reach.

He had been telling the truth that he'd watched some of the Olympic trials, but he hadn't seen Shay in person in years. The rare times he'd gone home, she hadn't been around. She was very much grown up. Very much.

He couldn't dwell on that. Safe. He needed to discuss options for a safe space for her with Aiden. Since Paul's cover was blown, and the police would most likely want to chat about the three men he'd killed, maybe he should disappear with her.

Shay's hands moved against his bare abdomen. Heat blasted through him and it had nothing to do with a sultry August night in the Valley of the Sun.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to focus. Get Shay somewhere safe. Staying with her was a firm no if he couldn't keep his thoughts in line. If he was alone with this new to him and yet still familiar Shay Cannon, he would likely make all kinds of mistakes. Most of them personal.

He turned into the small, private airport that housed one of Aiden's hangars where Paul had left the Gulfstream. Aiden had four business jets. Paul was his main pilot, but they had a list of competent pilots they trusted for the many flights Paul couldn't take.

Working for Aiden was his life's work and as fulfilling as his service in the Air Force. He not only flew often, but he was constantly on missions that rivaled the demands and dangers of being a special ops lieutenant. Aiden told him often that he appreciated the variety of skills Paul possessed. He was valuable and needed in the fight against crime. He had no desire to retire or settle down and find the love of his life as some of his friends had. His work had always been his life and his focus.

Shay's soft hair blew across his back. His pulse quickened and he lost his train of thought. Luckily, they were almost there. He needed some distance from this enticing lady. Pronto.

Reaching the gate of the small airport, he idled the bike. He placed his feet on the asphalt and typed in the code. The gate opened and he slowly drove through.

They made it to the hangar a minute later. He stopped the bike and reached back for his backpack that Shay was wearing. Shay moved to slide off the bike. He grasped her leg and held her there. The warm flesh under his hand rendered him speechless. She stared at him as he pivoted to her. Surely they had a few minutes to kiss. The vision of lifting her onto his lap on this powerful and beautiful road bike would be the fulfillment of dreams he'd never formulated in his mind. He was planning them all out now and wondered what he'd wasted the last thirty-five years on.

No! He was keeping Shay safe. Apparently from himself as well as outside influences.

Please, Lord, help my errant thoughts.

"Stay on the bike and we'll protect those feet," he tried to tease. "I just need to click the opener in the backpack."

"Okay." Her voice was breathless. She handed the backpack over. He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a remote. He typed in a code to inform the security team it was him accessing the hangar, then waited for a beep before pushing a button to open the door. The large hangar door slid up seamlessly. The only person he knew who had more money, gadgets, and top-of-the-line possessions than criminals was Aiden.

He held onto the backpack and idled the bike into the hangar, parking it next to a Cadillac Escalade. The SUV was tricked out and ready for any of Aiden's people to use. Aiden had homes that doubled as command centers in Long Island, Newport Beach, Costa Rica, and the Kingdom of Magna off the coast of Spain with airport hangars close to each home. His boss also had secure hangars like this one in ten other major cities.

Putting the kickstand down, Paul waited for Shay to slide off. She edged away on the smooth concrete floor. His T-shirt slid off one shoulder. He stared and had to force himself to look away. Shay wearing his shirt was a vision he'd never thought to have, but now he didn't know that he'd ever get the enticing picture out of his mind.

Paul shook his head and climbed off the bike. He slipped the criminal's phone out of his pocket and left it on the bike seat. The police or FBI would secure the other criminals' phones and information from them, but Aiden's tech team could use this phone to find their own information and leads regarding Benjamin Oliver. The man was on every most wanted list. Aiden was determined to find him for their good friend Quaid Raven and Quaid's sisters' sakes. Benjamin was their father and none of them would be safe or able to lead normal lives until the man was in a secure prison or dead.

Paul used another remote to open the plane door. He waited for Shay to walk up the four steps and into the Gulfstream first. He had to force himself to look away from her toned legs. His shirt was too big and yet not big enough .

"Wow, this is bougie," Shay said, looking around at the plush interior of the nineteen-passenger Gulfstream G700.

He laughed at the teenage term. She'd said a few of them. It was a funny contrast to the accomplished and driven world-class athlete. "Are you trying to make me feel old?" He climbed into the plane and pushed a button to shut the door behind them.

Her gaze traveled over his upper body, and he was grateful for his demanding career that required him to stay in top shape. "You don't look old," she murmured. "You look swole."

"Thank you. I think." He chuckled. "What does swole mean?" He'd heard the term before but found himself wanting to tease her and to hear her define it.

"Very muscular and defined," she said, grinning at him.

He wanted to stand here and have her look at him like that all day. Which meant it was time for him to move.

"Excuse me." He walked to the bathroom and hurried to wash his hands, splash some water on his face, and pull a clean T-shirt from a drawer. He had almost as many personal items on Aiden's jets as Aiden and his wife, Chalisa. Aiden was always sending different operatives, friends, or family on his planes. Paul felt like he lived on them sometimes, but the sky was his home, so it was a good fit.

Hurrying back out into the main area, he said, "You're welcome to use the bathroom, and any products or clothes you can find in the drawers and cabinets are free game."

"Oh, thank you. I can give you your shirt back."

He smiled. "Keep it. Souvenir. I'll start pre-flight checks so we can get moving." He pivoted and walked to the cockpit, leaving the door open. All was quiet outside the hangar at the small airport. It was after midnight, so that made sense, but it was a relief no one had followed them.

He found his mind wandering as he did his pre-flight routine. It led back to Shay every time. Not just how enticing she was all grown up, but how funny she was with her teenage words, how enthralling her smile was, how accomplished she was as an athlete, and how brave she'd been around hardened and disgusting criminals.

He needed the story of why she'd been in those men's grips in a swimming suit. He heard the bathroom door open, and it was instinctive to look back through the open cockpit door and into the main body of the plane. He'd thought Shay was irresistible in her swimsuit and his T-shirt. She was, but seeing her in a fitted white knit dress with her honey-colored hair brushed out, her skin clean and bright, her eyes framed with long lashes, and her lips shiny … He couldn't move, couldn't blink. What was he supposed to be doing right now?

She walked through the plane and entered the cockpit as he stared like a teenager. Tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear, she ducked her head slightly. That innocent and sweet move snapped him out of his trance. This was his former friend's sister. She was innocent, seven years younger than him, and in danger. She didn't need him ogling her like those men had done.

He'd always been proud of his self-control. Not right now. Right now, he was acting like the teenager she probably remembered him as—full of himself and living for the next thrill on snow skis, a dirt bike, a cliff face, or a river. Their small resort town in the middle of the Colorado mountains had been the perfect spot for an adventurous teenage boy. He'd gone on all of his adventures with Darian. Until six years after graduation when he'd come home to visit, the town had thrown a party, and Carrie had decided to use Paul to break Darian's heart.

"This is fire that you're some famous pilot."

"Fire?"

She'd said the same thing about clinging to him earlier.

"Incredible." She smiled at him, and he felt incredible. "Is it okay if I sit up here with you or do I need some certification?"

"I'll have to put you through rigorous pilot training, but sure."

"What does pilot training include?" She gave him a brilliant smile.

Kissing; loads of kissing.

She moistened her lips, and he feared for a moment that he'd said that out loud.

He shook his head to clear it. "Buckle in and I'll teach you."

"Let's get this bread." She slid into the co-pilot seat and rubbed her hands together eagerly.

Again. He was staring. He rarely had a co-pilot. He wanted her sitting in that seat every time he flew from now on. He rubbed at his jaw. What was happening to him? She couldn't sit there. He'd be distracted like he'd never been on a flight.

His phone beeped a text, a thankful interruption from staring at her. Aiden. "Just a moment."

Authorities headed to clean up your mess. They aren't going to like you taking out three men. I need more details. Who did you rescue? What do you need? Call me when you have time.

He didn't know where to start. At least he knew they had a secure line to talk on.

I left a cell phone of one of the perps on the Rocket's seat in your hangar. Hopefully some helpful info on it.

"Shay? Were those men taking you to Benjamin Oliver? "

Her smooth brow wrinkled in confusion. "They said they were taking me to Big T's lawyer. Isn't Benjamin Oliver Jacqueline and Elizabeth Oliver's dad?"

"Yes."

Now he was confused. Big T. The man was a famous crime lord out of Denver. As depraved as Benjamin, who Paul was currently trying to track down, Big T was flamboyant and thought nothing could stop him. Benjamin had worked his evil behind the scenes until he'd been exposed six weeks ago. The thought of the two men collaborating chilled him.

Check into a protection detail for Shay Cannon regarding Big T.

He typed and then looked up. "Were you supposed to testify against Big T at his trial next week?" The trial had been all over the news, but he'd heard from the FBI they had a star witness. Was Shay that witness?

"Yes. I saw him kill a lady two months ago."

"Okay." It was far from okay. "You've been in protective custody?" That was why she missed the Olympics, not another shoulder injury. Ah, poor Shay. This was a nightmare.

"Yes. Those men yanked me out of the swimming pool and brought me to the plane. I'm afraid they killed my FBI buddies."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you be sorry. You rescued me. You're no cap my hero." She smiled sweetly at him, and he almost kissed her again.

"Thank you." He looked at his phone. If he kept staring at her, he would kiss her again.

Shay Cannon? Olympic swimmer who was injured and disappeared?

Yes, Paul typed quickly. She's not injured. She saw Big T murder someone. Supposed to testify next week. The men we were hoping would lead us to Benjamin took her from FBI custody in her swimsuit. You never heard about her being in protective custody?

Those men were more impressive thugs than he'd given them credit for. They'd penetrated the witness protection program, found Shay, killed her FBI agents, and kidnapped her.

Big T wouldn't want an eyewitness to one of his many murders coming forward. The nefarious criminal had evaded lifelong prison sentences numerous times because somehow the evidence disappeared or, worse, the eyewitness did. Paul couldn't let that happen to Shay.

No, Aiden texted back. Please say Big T and Benjamin Oliver aren't affiliated.

My thoughts exactly. Paul rubbed at his forehead, not letting himself stare at Shay.

I'll check into it all now. Answers forthcoming. Where are you heading?

Paul thought for a moment. He could have the hilarious female bodyguard Autumn Cardon help him watch Shay at one of Aiden's homes, but Autumn would tease him mercilessly and there were always different operatives rotating through. He trusted everyone in Aiden's employ, but it was usually better to have fewer people seeing someone in protective custody. Especially someone who was semi-famous. This was definitely a high-level and special case. More than special to him because of who he was protecting.

Can you see if the Colevilles have room for an endangered lady?

He almost typed beautiful, endangered swimmer. Better not to tip his hand. His longtime friend Aiden had sworn to remain single until Chalisa Anderson had stolen his heart. Aiden and their top female operative, Autumn, loved to tease Paul about being an old man and how he needed to find his right angel. Yeah, right. He was happy and busy with his work, and he wasn't going to give them any fodder by showing how deeply drawn he was to Shay.

You know they'll help out if they can. Head that direction and I'll confirm.

Thanks. Taking to the air now. Can you have someone send in a flight plan for me?

On it. Chat soon.

He stowed his phone and taxied out of the hangar, pushing the button to close the door behind the jet. Aiden's security techs would be watching for their exit and immediately re-arm the hangar.

Shay didn't say much as he eased out to the quiet runway and then went full throttle, maybe showing off a little as the high-performance jet glided down the runway and soared up into the night air.

Shay gave a little gasp, and he regretted going so fast.

"You all right?" he asked as he leveled off a bit and took the rise in altitude more gently.

"Yes, that was lit!"

He chuckled, working the controls until he was soaring at forty-one thousand feet, his favorite spot for cruising speed and less traffic. He set the controls to the familiar location of Kalispell, Montana's small airport, south of the picturesque Coleville Montana and the generous and welcoming cowboys, the Coleville family. He appreciated and respected all of the Colevilles, especially Mama Millie.

"Sorry about the teenage vocab," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "I spend all my time at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs with swimmers much younger than me and coaching Cheyenne Mountain High's swim team. I've found knowing their lingo helps us connect and them not seeing me as some icon." She shrugged. "Their language has become a part of me. At least I used to spend all my time with them." She plucked at the side slit of her dress.

"I hate that you've been isolated from your dreams and your friends," he said, impressed she learned the teenager's jargon to help them be comfortable with her.

"It bites."

He understood. He was often alone. Could they conquer the loneliness together? Instead of saying something so cheesy, he kept an eye on the controls and the sky. Everything was quiet.

"I'm sorry you missed the Olympics."

"You and me both. But I'm alive, so that slaps. It hits different when you go from a happy, busy life to a nightmare." Before he could comfort her, she asked, "You said the plan imploded. On the phone. Rescuing me wasn't in the plan?"

"No, beautiful Shay. You were not part of tonight's plan." Paul glanced away. Nothing like revealing how interested he was in her. "I took their pilot's place. I was hoping to have the men who kidnapped you lead me to their boss."

"Big T? But he's in prison."

"You're certain they were affiliated with Big T?" Aiden's tech team had been ninety percent sure they were working for Benjamin Oliver.

"Why else would they have kidnapped me? They had to be planning to stop me from testifying next week. They said they were taking me to Big T's lawyer to get some answers before they killed me." She sucked in a breath.

Paul was very prepared to comfort her. This jet could fly itself for a long time .

"I think they killed my friends Agents Meacham and Turner."

"Maybe." Paul realized she was worried about her agents, not scared for herself and needing comfort. It was impressive how unselfish and brave she was.

If she'd been discovered by Big T's cohorts, her agents were either dead or they were in on the plan and were dirty. "Did you see their bodies?"

"No."

"Okay. Aiden will sort it all out."

"Aiden …?"

"Porter," he supplied.

"You know Aiden Porter?"

"He's my boss, and a good friend."

"Bussin'." She looked him over appreciatively. "That's a better flex than your flying skills. Is that why you have so much rizz?"

He chuckled. He could guess ‘bussin' meant great and he did know what ‘rizz' meant. "Aiden has more charisma in his little finger than I've exhibited my entire life."

"I don't know about that. You're ultra charming to me. Oozing rizz. You have a magnetism about you …" She trailed off and gave him a smile like a deer caught in headlights. "Okay. I'll stop now. It's getting cringy."

Her thinking he was charming, rizzy, or magnetic wasn't cringy at all, but he could only imagine how she felt being so transparent. It appeared she returned the feelings he was fighting so hard. That didn't give him a green light to act on them, but it did make him feel good. Really good.

She smiled, but it looked more forced than earlier. "Do you lowkey need any more information from me? Maybe I'll head back to a recliner and see if I can get some shut-eye."

He wanted to ask her to stay. He liked being around her. He liked knowing she was attracted to him. His mind traveled willingly back to the kiss they'd shared. His eyes fastened to her mouth and held there. "Um …" He couldn't remember what they'd been discussing. "That should be fine."

She nodded and stood, holding onto the chair.

Paul looked out at the night sky, refocusing his mind. "Wait. Do you know the FBI agents' full names? Who else have you worked with at the FBI? Aiden will check into everybody and get some background on them. He'll let someone he trusts know that you're in his custody now so your family will know you're safe and there isn't a nationwide manhunt issued for you from the FBI. But nobody but Aiden or I will know where you are."

"Oh, okay. Thank you. I don't want anyone stressing about me. I haven't chatted with my mom and dad or Darian in months. It high-key stinks."

"I'm sorry."

She pounded her fists together and then raised two fingers. "Thank you, brother."

Paul smiled, but he didn't want to be her brother. He didn't want to think about her brother. He wanted to focus on her and her alone.

"Agents Curtis Meacham and Isaac Turner," she said when he didn't respond.

He pulled out his phone and typed the names to Aiden. It was easier not to stare at her pretty mouth while she spoke all her hilarious teenage slang. What would she say if he told her his course was set on this top-of-the-line jet? He could hold her and comfort her for the less than three-hour flight. Would that be ‘bussin' or ‘fire' or would it be ‘cringe'? He didn't dare find out.

"Agent Pike Larkin is my FBI contact. He was a friend of Darian's from college."

"All right." He typed that in as well. Glancing up at her, he asked a question he probably should've left alone. "How is Darian?"

She shrugged. She looked tired and drained. Everything from tonight was probably hitting her or maybe Darian was doing worse than he'd heard. "He stays busy with his law practice and helping my mom and dad."

"That's good." Paul wondered what she knew about his and Darian's blow up. She didn't act upset with him. Maybe Darian didn't loathe him as much as he feared. He didn't go home often. Though the whole town of Glenwood Springs treated him like a returning war hero, there were some who hadn't forgotten about Paul's role in the tragedy. Most blamed Carrie for kissing him, breaking Darian's heart, and being reckless on the bike, but Darian had put all the responsibility on Paul. He claimed Paul had seduced Carrie and confused her. If he knew that Carrie had emailed Paul the year that she dated and became engaged to Darian and that she'd come to see Paul and proclaimed her love before taking off and dying, he'd hate him worse. Without knowing the worst of it, Darian already loathed him.

"He never married?" Paul asked.

"No cap." She shook her head. "He won't move on. He doesn't even get rizzy with the many ladies who chase him."

"That's too bad," he said. "I hoped he could get past … everything eventually."

"Doubtful. He's pretty salty if it comes up." She looked away .

Salty meant grumpy, he thought. Paul felt a sting like salt as he thought of the information Darian didn't know. Was Shay's appearance in his life to help him get the load off his chest or to tempt him with what he couldn't have? He was grateful Shay wasn't being ‘salty' with him. Was that because of her appreciation for him rescuing her or simply her positive attitude and obvious resiliency?

Shay was a ray of sunshine, even though she'd been through a dark, terrifying night. He could only imagine how hard she'd worked to make it through trials and onto the U.S. Olympic swim team the second time. Then she hadn't been able to compete because of a criminal killing an innocent woman and Shay being forced into protective custody. He imagined most people would be quivering on the floor crying about now. And nobody would blame them. She was singularly impressive, the ideal woman for him. He fell deeper for her in this moment, and it stung even harder that he needed to keep his distance.

Shay tilted her head, that shiny honey hair spilling over her arm. "What about you, our rizzy pilot? Does the swole Air Force hero date every baddie who hits on him?"

He chuckled. "I'm trying to keep up with all the slang."

"Sorry," she said, though she didn't sound it. "It's engrained in me at this point. It makes me feel closer to my people."

"Don't be sorry. I like it. It makes you unique." And funny and desirable and a whole lot of other things he didn't want to think about. He could relate to missing his ‘people' and wanting to stay close.

Paul was in top shape, one of the best and most versatile warriors on the planet, but sometimes he felt old. Especially when Autumn teased him about being thirty-five and unattached. With this breath of fresh air, Shay Cannon, he felt young, vibrant, and happy. How did she accomplish that? He should be buoying her up instead of the other way around.

"Much appreciated." She clasped her hands like a prayer and bowed to him then she settled back into the co-pilot chair. "Now give me the deets." She folded her hands under her chin and blinked at him.

Paul chuckled. This plane could fly itself and there was no danger or anything approaching, but he made himself look at the controls and pretend he was doing something. Otherwise, he might lift her to her feet, pull her in tight, and see if another kiss between them could equal the first one. Had that off-the-charts connection only been because of the extreme and dangerous situation and the good Lord helping him save her life, or could those sparks happen for them again?

"I date." He chose his words carefully. "But I'm busy with my work."

"Hmm."

"What about you?" he challenged, glancing back at her.

"Of course I date," she said, sassy and adorable. "I'm very sought after."

"I'm sure you are." He grinned and ignored the flash of jealousy deep in his gut.

Then something changed in her eyes, and he realized she was thinking about those men tonight—seeking after her, groping her, threatening her.

"You all right?" he asked softly, wondering how close she was to breaking down.

She lifted her hands and looked away.

He wanted to gather her close, but his phone rang. "Aiden," he said. "I need to take this. "

"I'll be resting." She stood and walked out of the cockpit and into the cabin of the plane without looking back.

Paul watched her go, blowing out a breath. He swiped the phone on. "Hey."

"This is intense, Paul. Her FBI agents are missing and the man you had tied up on the plane, a Jonah Bueller, is blustering with the police, claiming you attacked and killed his men."

"That'll work itself out." Paul was more concerned about where her FBI agents were. "I'm sure those thugs all have rap sheets longer than my arm."

"Most likely."

"What did the Colevilles say?"

"They're happy to take you both and keep quiet about it?—"

"Wait. Take us both?" Paul glanced over his shoulder. Shay was sitting in a chair, staring at him. The lights were dim in the galley; he couldn't get a bead on her emotional state. Was she close to tears? Would she want him to stay with her? He wanted to support her but was afraid how he'd react. She felt like a thrilling visit home for him. That kiss… Not a good idea to want to repeat it and repeat it and repeat it.

"Yes, sir. You're a hot topic with authorities right now, my friend. I'm sticking with my story that you have Shay Cannon in your protection and neither of you will surface and answer any questions until you walk her into that trial at the Cook County Courthouse next Tuesday, promptly at eight a.m., to meet with the lawyers before the trial starts at ten."

He blew out a breath. "You're telling me if I do surface, I'll be stuck answering questions from now until past Tuesday."

"That's my boy. Always quick."

Paul laughed. There was no humor in it.

"You shot three men tonight, an FBI safehouse was breached, a well-known athlete in protective custody was kidnapped, and two FBI agents are missing. That raises some questions."

"I was protecting an innocent woman that they had kidnapped, were threatening to kill, and assaulting. What would you have done?"

"I'm on your team, friend. I'm just saying let this die down and let the truth surface. Five days at the Colevilles' ranch is the perfect place for you. Feel bad for me. I have to deal with nonstop questioning from authorities and the media, and even worse … subpar pilots for a week."

Paul chuckled.

"Oh, and the Colevilles are ‘hosting' someone in their main house. You and Shay will stay in Miles's cabin. They'll make certain it's stocked with food and bring you any supplies you need."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll be in touch."

Paul hung up and glanced back at Shay. Her eyes were closed. What did that mean? Avoiding him?

They would be stuck in a cabin for five days. Just the two of them. That sounded cozy, exciting, unnerving … Could he keep his hands to himself and forget about that kiss?

He didn't have a choice. She was in danger and very off limits. He'd repeat that every hour and pray it stuck in his brain.