Fighting for Keeps Read online

  He made her crazy. In every way imaginable…

  Since her partner’s death, Jodi Israel has been perfectly happy playing Q to everyone else’s Bond. Electronics and machines are safer—and they are a lot easier to deal with. Unfortunately, she’s stuck with TRAIT’s newest recruit, an infuriating, arrogant alpha-male who plays by his own rules…and is hot enough to send electric voltage through all of Jodi’s circuitry.

  Finn Danby heeds his instincts, even though it’s cost him his job on more than one occasion. The moment he sees Jodi’s fiery hair and uncanny engineering abilities, Finn’s instinct takes over…and it’s all libido. Now they’re working together to protect the unstable daughter of a high-profile politician—and the sparks are flying. Both in and out of the bedroom. But when all hell breaks loose, Finn must decide if he wants to fight against Jodi…or fight for her.

  Fighting for Keeps

  Seleste deLaney

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other books by Seleste deLaney Gaming for Keeps

  Conning for Keeps

  Check out Ignite’s newest releases… Hearts Under Siege

  Her Special Forces

  Make Me Up

  His Last Redemption

  Convicted

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Seleste deLaney. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Ignite is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Karen Grove

  Cover design by L.J. Anderson

  Cover art by Shutterstock/fotorince

  ISBN 978-1-63375-257-3

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2015

  To Sharon Cook, Doug Lanier, Juli Feeny, and all the other teachers who made a difference in my life. You are the unsung heroes of every kid who grows up and follows their dreams.

  Prologue

  Josh Marron frowned at the report sitting on his desk. “You’re sure?”

  Calvin Burrows, the Tactical Response and Investigative Team senior agent nodded. “Someone got into the database. I’ve already tried backtracking the IP, but it bounces around half a dozen countries before returning to the U.S. It comes up as originating at a McDonald’s outside of DC.”

  “Do we know what information the hacker accessed?”

  “Not much before the system kicked them out, but whoever it was headed straight to personnel files. They knew what they wanted and how to find it.”

  Marron scrubbed at his face. This wasn’t good. “We need to make sure our people are covered. Where’s Penelope?” he asked, referring to Cal’s girlfriend and one of TRAIT’s premier recruiters.

  “Safe. She’s with agent friends tonight.” Cal tapped the report. “Most of us at least have someone watching our backs. I’m mainly worried about our solo agents. Including you.”

  “I’m fine.” Marron shrugged off the worry. If someone planned to come after him, they’d get more than they bargained for—especially if they were expecting a bureaucrat or a desk jockey. “The others, however… Those files include performance reviews. Things like who works alone and how skilled they are in combat. If someone is trying to get to us, it won’t be hard to figure out our weak links. We need to get them partners—strong, smart, and quick on their feet. ASAP.”

  Cal nodded. “I’ll get Pen on it tonight.”

  As soon as Cal was out the door, Marron sank into his office chair. He picked up the report, as if the letters would suddenly rearrange themselves to reveal the hacker’s name. When it behaved like any other piece of paper, his frustration got the best of him. He wadded it up and chucked it at the wall.

  No one hacked a government agency without an agenda—and most people shouldn’t have known TRAIT existed to begin with. Suddenly all Marron’s agents had targets on their backs, and he would be damned if he sat around and just watched to see what happened next.

  Chapter One

  Bad to the Bone

  “You can’t park there.” Great. A cop.

  Jodi Israel’s shoulders slumped as her umbrella snapped open overhead. It’d be nice if she could just pull out a badge and flash it. TRAIT didn’t do that though. Sure, they had badges, but they weren’t encouraged to show them off—no one was supposed to know about the agency, which meant no perks like shoving “federal agent” in the face of local authorities. “I’m only going to be a minute.”

  “Ma’am, I said you need to move the car.”

  She spun around and squinted, trying to see through the downpour. The cop stepped out of the rain, headed toward her, and her breath caught. He towered over her, presenting the kind of tall and broad that made her feel tiny. He tipped his head down, the dripping brim of his hat shading a square jaw and chiseled features. She wished she could see his eyes better; she’d bet they were blue, the icy kind that sent shivers down her spine. Eyes that matched the rumble of his voice.

  “I don’t care how cute you are, you can’t park there.”

  And it suddenly didn’t matter what color the cop’s eyes were—even if the sun had made an appearance, clearing the rain and giving her a chance to find out—not if he was going to talk to her like that. She hated when men noticed her body over her brain. Besides, Marron had asked her to pick up a file while she was in town, and he had said to stay out of parking garages—which meant parking here, whether the cop liked it or not. Of course, her boss hadn’t exactly mentioned why, but orders were orders. “And I said I’d only be a minute. So how about we compromise? If I take longer than sixty seconds, you can give me two tickets, but if I’m back before then, you don’t give me one at all.”

  When a response wasn’t forthcoming, she decided to take it as a yes. The instant she turned her back, the asshole cop snarled, “Laws exist for a reason. If you’re going to flout them, you’re going to pay for it. Or you could just do what I said and move the car.”

  The threat of money and points was lame. Marron would take care of the ticket. She would have rolled her eyes if not for the sudden chatter over the cop’s radio. She didn’t catch all of it, but the crossroads called out were the last corner she’d passed before parking. Apparently, uber-cop didn’t care about her parking violation anymore because the guy spun on his heel and took off running.

  Jodi was about to take the opportunity to dash inside. It would be nice to be gone before she did wind up with a ticket, but something about the way the cop sped off, she couldn’t help but watch him. He was faster than he looked, moving his muscular frame over the ground at near professional-athlete speed. Yet he still managed to weave between pedestrians and took the precious seconds to help up a little girl who had fallen when he blew by. But then she noticed the other men
running toward him.

  Though she couldn’t hear his words, she could imagine the cop’s deep voice yelling, “Freeze!” as he pulled out his gun. When the suspects veered to the left, he took off again, then leaped, tackling the two grown men to the ground.

  The move was impressive. Between that and the way he’d assisted the kid, maybe she’d been a little hasty in judging him.

  She believed it until he stood and punched one perp while he was still lying on the ground and kicked the other as he tried to stand. Jodi took a step back. What the hell? When the cop pulled his arm back again, she turned around and stomped into the building.

  There was attractive and dominant…and then there was alpha-hole. Obviously sexy cop didn’t believe in middle ground and fell directly into the latter category. At least she’d be heading back to Naperville soon enough. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

  And bonus…no way would he have time to give her a ticket.

  …

  Finneas Danby was three steps from the sidewalk when he dropped the box from his arms and stormed back toward the precinct. Then he clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it on the rail instead. He wasn’t about to go back in there and beg. Fuck the Chicago PD. They didn’t know what they were doing.

  If they did, they wouldn’t have thrown him out on his ass.

  Excessive force?

  Failure to follow directives?

  Not a team player?

  Translation: not an ass kisser.

  Apparently it didn’t matter if he got the job done. All he did was knock a couple guys’ heads together before Mirandizing them. Then everyone got their damn undies so far up their asses they might as well have been going commando. It wasn’t like he’d shot the perps. It could have gone much worse—cops and innocent bystanders could have died—but no one saw that besides Finn.

  He didn’t need the force.

  He was damn good at what he did and, if they didn’t want his skills, he would find someone who did. Private security maybe. Those guys tended to prefer asking questions after assailants were subdued.

  Nope. He’d be just fine and dandy without his badge.

  He stomped back down the steps and swooped to grab his box when a car pulled to the curb and stopped. Late model Taurus. Silver. Common enough, yet not so dull as to really stand out. Finn narrowed his eyes as the passenger window slid open.

  “Mr. Danby, I’d like to speak to you. Please get in the car.”

  The glass wasn’t heavily tinted, but the guy in the driver’s seat was shadowed, and Finn couldn’t make out any distinguishing features from where he stood. Especially not with the sunlight glaring in his eyes. “Who’s asking?” His hand moved toward his waist for the holster that was no longer there.

  Damn it.

  The driver’s door opened, and a man exited and stood next to the car. He was a touch under six feet, his dark hair graying at the temples. He swept off a pair of shades, and the skin crinkled around his eyes as he smiled. Until that expression, he was nearly as nondescript as the car.

  “If I’d come here to kill you, I wouldn’t have bothered with small talk. Besides, I don’t think you were on the force long enough to make the kind of enemies who would attack you in broad daylight.” He put the glasses back in place and slid behind the wheel again, calling, “Now, unless you aren’t interested in a new job, get your ass in the damn car.”

  Finn bristled at the tone in the man’s voice—last time he’d blindly obeyed an order people had died. Fuck that shit. Guy wanted to play? He’d play Finn’s way.

  Even walking to the curb made him twitchy. He wanted to tell the guy to take his orders and shove them, but instead he set the box down on the sidewalk and leaned on the window opening. “I said, who’s asking?”

  “You just don’t get it, do you? That’s the attitude that got you canned from the PD.” How did the guy even know? Finn had only been fired a couple hours ago. “Being an alpha male’s great. This? Not so much. You want answers, you get your stubborn ass in the car.” The jerk sat there and actually buffed his nails against his suit jacket. “Offer expires in sixty seconds. There are a lot of other people in this country looking for work.”

  Maybe, but Finn wasn’t about to pretend this shit was okay. “Look, I don’t know who you are or what the job is. I’m not stupid enough to blindly get in.”

  “Glove box.”

  Frowning, Finn pulled the lever, and the door dropped open. A file poked out, and when he tore it free, a wallet fell onto the seat, flipping wide long enough to reveal a badge and ID. The guy snapped it shut too quickly for Finn to get a good look—but what he saw screamed Fed.

  The file, on the other hand, he didn’t need to examine very far. It was on him. Everything on him, right back to disciplinary records from fucking elementary school. He slapped it on the window. “How the hell did you get this?”

  “Your time’s up. You can either accept that I have legal connections or assume everyone in your past hates you enough to spill to whomever asks. Choice is yours—in or out.” He threw the car into gear. “If you’re going for the latter, drop the file and take your arm off my window.” When Finn didn’t move, the guy shrugged. “Your choice. Happy job hunting.”

  The Taurus pulled away from the curb, the door banging Finn’s elbow and sending pain lancing up to his shoulder. Shit. The guy was really going to leave. “Wait.” The car stopped, idling a foot away, but he knew it wouldn’t stay there. Something told him the man behind the wheel wasn’t the kind to make threats and not follow through.

  Damn it.

  Finn snatched up his box of personal items, yanked open the passenger door, and climbed in. “Start talking.”

  “Good to know that if given incentive you can actually follow orders. My name is Josh Marron and, as far as you’re concerned right now, I’m a ghost. Do you get my meaning?”

  “Yeah.” If he walked away, this meeting never happened. Though between his time in the army and on the force in Chicago, he’d never heard of anyone named Marron. Where had he come from? Definitely the no-nonsense type, but he didn’t seem like a ballbuster. The only tension in the vehicle came from Finn himself, which eased as he realized that likely meant this was exactly what Marron said—a job offer. As much as Finn hadn’t liked Marron’s initial approach, maybe there’d be enough leeway in his attitude that they could manage to work together. “And the job?”

  Marron pulled into traffic, weaving through cars like he’d started life as a Hollywood stunt driver. “That depends on how deep your disdain for playing nice goes. My organization barely exists outside of a row of checks and balances in a politician’s ledger, which means we have our own set of rules. But we all still answer to someone. If I bring you in, we won’t tolerate your issues with authority. Specifically, I won’t tolerate it. The best agents on my roster are the ones who understand the value of compromise.”

  Right. Compromise. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Agent” had a nice ring to it, though—the sound that would make the assholes on the force shut the hell up. Finn scrubbed at his face and glanced at the file again. “And this?”

  “Let’s just say we have the best of the best on our team, and they have access to almost everything stored online. My top recruiter heard about you after you had a minor run-in with one of my agents. She gathered that file on you in twenty-four hours; you’ve left such a consistent trail, you’re not exactly difficult to follow.” Marron cranked the wheel into a hard left turn, and then they were sliding right back into the parking spot they’d left a moment before.

  The file disappeared from Finn’s grip as Marron took it. “Here’s the deal. If you come in, you come as a new recruit. The stripes you earned before you met me mean nothing. You start over, but that also means your record”—Marron tossed the file on the backseat—“doesn’t really matter.”

  Finn sat there for a few more seconds before he realized the information was a dismissal. Not exactly promising. “All right. I’ll consider i
t.”

  As Finn climbed out of the Taurus, Marron handed him a card with an address and time printed on it—nothing else. “If you’re interested, show up tomorrow. I need more men like you. The kind who are willing to make the tough calls and make them smart, but only if you can be part of the team because you won’t be going into field work solo.”

  “I don’t like partners.” Partners made things messy and unnecessarily complicated.

  “Then it was nice meeting you, Danby, because that agent you met last week? That’d be your new partner.”

  He didn’t remember any altercation. Who the hell had it been? One of the guys he’d gotten canned for knocking around? Had they been undercover?

  The Taurus pulled away and disappeared into traffic before he had time to ask. Just like a ghost.

  …

  Jodi Israel swept back her hair, wishing for once it would stay in the elastic where she’d put it. What the heck had Trevor done to this car? There was nothing blatantly obvious with the underbody or beneath the hood.

  Diagnostics all came back solid, but something wasn’t right. The thing was designed to have the get-up-and-go of a nitroused street racer, and it was barely cracking the one hundred miles per hour mark. It was like a microcosm of her life, but she was done with moving fast and going nowhere. Staying here in the garage by choice worked a lot better.

  “Did you figure it out yet?”

  The sound of Marron’s voice made her jerk upward, whacking her head on the raised hood. Wincing, Jodi rubbed at the spot. That was going to leave a mark. “Not yet, sir. It’s only a matter of time before I tease it out of her, though.”

  “Good to know, but you’re officially on a schedule.” Marron leaned against the side of the car—all casual-like.

  She wasn’t fooled. Not one bit. Marron hanging around in the garage never meant anything but trouble. And a schedule either meant something big was coming in, or the man was here to deliver bad news. “Because…?”

  “New recruits. I’ve assigned you to one of them. Greta gets the other.”