“So, what about you? I didn’t realize Paul Keane had a partner.” Sophie’s soft voice brought him back to the present.

Game face on, he ordered himself. Jack wasn’t some rookie, and if he didn’t get his shit together, this entire op could fail. That was unacceptable. Biological weapons were the wave of the future, and the fallout was terrifying. Hospitals, religious centers, schools—terrorists had no problem hitting innocent civilians. In fact, they thrived on those targets. And Vargas had no conscience; the man would strike where he could hurt the most. Translation: the most innocent victims, which would likely be children. The monster had done just that in his own region to instill fear and to keep locals in line.

Thankful for the mental reminder of what was on the line, Jack recited the cover story he’d gone over half a dozen times in the past couple of days. “I gave him the start-up for Keane Flight. Until now I’ve never had any interest in his company, but when he got in that accident, I stepped in to take over things for a while.”

“So, what did you do before this? Or what do you do?” There was a definite note of anxiety in her voice.

He risked a quick glance at her. Sophie’s face was impassive, but she was twirling a strand of dark hair. Why was she nervous? The information he had didn’t suggest she was involved, but until now he hadn’t realized how loyal she was to her boss. Maybe she wasn’t nervous because of that. If it was because she was attracted to him—no, he shut that thought down. It didn’t matter. “I own a few restaurants, and I’ve been fortunate enough to make wise investments over the years.” This was all part of his cover, but he didn’t divulge too much information.

She nodded and glanced away. As he pulled up to La Marea at the Tides Hotel, she tugged at her skirt almost self-consciously, and when one of the valet guys opened the door for her, she jumped. It was subtle, but enough for him to notice.

Jack’s hands clenched around the steering wheel, but he forced himself to get out. He rarely used a valet—didn’t ever like giving up control of his keys—but for the role he was playing, it only made sense.

“Is the terrace okay?” he asked as he held open the front door to the restaurant for her.

“That sounds great.” The smile she gave him was tight and brittle, but it didn’t detract from her full lips and he couldn’t help staring at them.

All he wanted to do was nibble, tease, and stroke them. The urge to lean forward and do just that was startlingly real. He sighed. Being so close to Sophie again was going to put him in an early grave.

From the file Wesley had given him, he knew this was her favorite place, so he hoped to soften her up while he subtly grilled her. Once they were seated and the hostess had taken their drink orders, he jumped right in to professional mode. “Ronald tells me you’re like his right hand.”

She blushed and damn if his cock didn’t jump to attention. Again. It gave her a deliciously innocent quality that made him ache. She was quick to brush away his compliment. “I don’t know about that.”

A light breeze blew up, ruffling the open table umbrella sheltering them. He instinctively glanced around. The terrace was blocked by thick hedges, giving them a decent amount of privacy, but his senses had been on high alert since they’d left SBMS. At first he thought it was because he was around Sophie, but his gut told him otherwise. A familiar tingle spread across the back of his neck, as if someone was watching him. He’d been in the crosshairs of a sniper scope before, and the sensation he had now was damn familiar. Jack started to respond when a reflection from the hedges caught his eye. It danced and flickered for a second and raw adrenaline kicked in.

There wasn’t time to make any other decision. Even though there was a slim chance he was making a mistake, it would be worth the embarrassment. He shoved the iron and glass table on its side and tackled Sophie. The last thing he saw as he flew at her was her wide brown eyes. He attempted to soften the blow as he fell over her by rolling the chair, but a few cuts and bruises or even a broken arm would be nothing compared to a bullet in her chest.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sophie yelled, and struggled underneath.

A huge potted plant exploded behind them, followed by screams and shouts from the other patrons. She immediately stilled, her mouth falling open.

“There’s a shooter. We have to get out of here.” He shifted and grabbed one of the iron table legs, pulling it around so they had more cover.

Face pale and eyes wide, she nodded likely because the word “shooter” sank in.

The glass tabletop exploded, showering them with shards. Which told him the shooter had suitable visibility. At least he had lousy aim. Jack kept his body over Sophie.

“Get ready to run. Stay low,” he ordered.

Still shielding her, he grabbed her arm and they sprinted for the open glass doors to the interior of the restaurant. Luckily there were other patrons doing the very same thing, inadvertently giving them cover. Once inside, he scanned the area for a backup shooter. Patrons, servers, and other staff of the hotel were all running around in a blind panic, so if there was a backup shooter, he would be the only calm person. Jack didn’t spot anyone like that and at least now they were inside. Short of being hit with a missile, they had cover for the moment.

Keep moving, keep moving. Moving targets were a hell of a lot harder to hit. As a veteran sniper, he had firsthand experience.

He glanced at Sophie as they continued running through the restaurant. “You okay?”

She nodded shakily, her face pale. “Yeah.”

Jack still held on to her arm. And he didn’t plan to let go anytime soon. “I promise we’ll get out of here.”

Jack had been in far worse situations, but always during missions and usually in foreign countries. Everyone he worked with knew the risks associated with their chosen profession. Not Sophie. She was just a civilian and hadn’t asked for this.

He continued through the restaurant, dodging shouting men and women and jerking Sophie along with him. Once they neared the sliding glass doors on the other side of the hotel, he tugged her to the side of the entrance. “Stay here.”

When the doors whooshed open he ducked outside and behind the valet desk. Crouching down, he scanned the wooden board until he saw his keys. In all the chaos, no one was paying attention to him. And if they were, they didn’t care what he was doing.

Seconds later he was back inside. Fear punched through him when he didn’t spot Sophie.

“I’m here.” She jumped up from behind one of the huge potted palm trees against the wall, still clutching her purse like a lifeline.

“Come on.” He kept his hand at the small of her back as they ran toward one of the side exits.

“Where are we going?”

“To get my vehicle.”

“How do you even know where it is?” she asked as he pushed open the exit door into an empty tiled hallway.

“I know where they valet the cars.” Before he went anywhere, he made it a point to memorize the schematics of the building. It always amazed him that people would give up their car keys to strangers without knowing anything about where their property was being taken.

Sophie’s heels clacked along the floor, and even in her restrictive skirt, she almost matched his stride.

“This way.” He motioned to turn left at the next open hallway.

She tripped on the slick floor as they made the sharp turn, but he caught her before she fell. A burst of raw adrenaline and lust surged through him in equal doses when his hand snaked around her waist. Sophie tensed, shoved away from him, and kept running on her own.

“We’re almost there.” When they made it to the last door, he held up a finger to her and pulled out the SIG, which had been nicely tucked into his shoulder holster and hidden by his jacket.

“What the hell?” She stared at the gun with wide eyes, real fear in her gaze.

“Stay close to me, please.” Jack wasn’t sure whether it was the unexpected weapon or the “please,” but Sophie jerkily nodded.

He eased the door open. No one was in this section of the parking garage. He pressed the unlock button. Two rows over, the SUV beeped and the lights flashed.

After one more visual sweep, he reached behind him without turning around. “Come on.”

When he felt Sophie’s delicate hand in his, an invisible vise tightened around his chest. She was trusting him with her life and he’d be damned if he screwed this up.

Crouching low, they slipped out the exit door and ducked behind a four-door sedan. With their backs against the passenger door, Jack motioned with one hand. “My SUV is about two rows over. We’re going to make a run for it.”

“Is there someone in this parking garage after us?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but I’m not taking a chance.” There were too many variables right now, and Sophie’s possible involvement was a very big one.

He’d considered the fact that someone from one of his previous jobs might have tracked him down—almost an impossibility considering that most people he’d worked with were dead or in prison—but something told him that shooter hadn’t been aiming for him. The potted plant had been a lot closer to Sophie. No, someone had been after her. Which might mean his cover had been compromised, but more likely someone didn’t want her talking. About what? He had no idea. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was getting her out of here and getting some answers.

Fast.

“On the count of two, we go.” Using his fingers, he counted. On two, they sprinted across the concrete, using the other cars as cover. Her shoes smacked loudly, ruining any chance of covertness they had.

Before getting inside the SUV, he lay on the ground to make sure someone hadn’t planted a bomb. Definitely paranoid, but he’d rather be that than dead. Once they were inside his vehicle, he started the ignition, kicked it into drive, and pulled out of the spot before she had a chance to strap in.

He barreled through the first level, keeping his eyes open for anyone suspicious, but the level was clean. Jack paused at the exit, then took a left. His tires squealed loudly as he zoomed away.

“What the hell is going on? And why are you carrying a gun? Who are you?” Sophie’s questions came at him like machine gun fire as she gripped the armrest with a white-knuckled hand.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Her voice rose a few octaves.

“Whoever was shooting at us wasn’t aiming at me.” He quickly scanned her. She was rumpled, but he couldn’t see any blood.

“What . . . You think someone was shooting at me? You’re insane.” She shook her head and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before glancing down at herself. Her crisp white button-down blouse was missing a couple of buttons and her jacket was ripped at one of the seams. “Why aren’t we calling the police?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. No one was behind them, so he took a right onto Ocean Drive. It was Miami’s most famous and most crowded street. They’d be able to blend in and get lost if they needed to. At least until he could secure another vehicle.

“You never told me why you’re carrying a gun.”

He ignored her and switched lanes while keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. If someone was tailing them, they were good because Jack didn’t see anyone.

“Okay, are you just ignoring everything I’m saying?” Her voice rose again, that temper he remembered so well flaring brightly.

It shouldn’t turn him on, but damn if he didn’t love and miss that fire in her. “I’m trying to get us away from here in one piece. I’ll answer your questions once we’re safe.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dig into her purse. Before he realized what she was doing, she was on the phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” He risked a glance at her as they came to a red light.

“Calling Ronald.”

“Damn it, woman—” He lunged for the phone, but she jerked away from him lightning fast at the same time a horn blasted from behind.

He accelerated and gritted his teeth. Technically, he could forcibly take the phone from her, but he wasn’t sure if that was necessary yet. The thought of hurting her, even inadvertently, sliced up his insides.

“Hi, Mandy. It’s Sophie. I need to talk to Ronald. . . . Homeland Security . . . They want to talk to me. . . . Are you sure? . . . I don’t understand—”