Keeping Her Close

By Suzanne Rock

Keeping Her Close, the second sexy and suspenseful book in the Hot Heroes in Blue series by Suzanne Rock.

As the newest SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics) Team member, Officer Maximo "Max" Ferreira is irritated that his first assignment is not diffusing a terrorist threat, but instead providing protection to the controversial blogger Tess Abbott during her lecture tour in New York City. He believes the job is nothing more than glorified babysitting but after one look at the sexy journalist, suddenly, his job is no longer a hardship.

The attraction between them is immediate, and Tess's take-charge personality in the bedroom is like a dream come true. Unfortunately, Tess is too wrapped up in her work to take their relationship seriously. When an attempt is made on her life, it will take all of Max's training to convince her to stop trying to handle everything on her own and stay where he can protect her best--in his arms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781250117748

Book preview

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Chapter One

MAX

I tightened my grip on the cardboard sign and searched the line of people walking into the airport terminal. Couples, families, and friends filed out into the open seating area and embraced their loved ones. None of them looked like the young, free-spirited blogger I was supposed to meet.

My best friend, Vash, cleared his throat and leaned in close to my ear. Maybe she’s having trouble getting her suitcase out of the overhead compartment.

I doubt it. I shoved the sign at him as the last passenger spilled into view. More like she wasn’t on the plane. I scrolled through the computer screen on my wristwatch, seeing if I missed some communication about her flight schedule. There was none. This was the flight, I was sure of it, and yet . . . No Tess Abbott.

Grinding my teeth, I punched a code into the tiny pin pad on my watch to signal my contact outside. Hold tight in position, I said into my wrist.

Is there a problem? Roy’s voice echoed through my earpiece.

I thought about telling him the truth but decided against it. Admitting that I had been outsmarted would not earn me any points back at the precinct. Knowing the guys, they’d probably make fun of me for weeks.

No. Not yet, anyway. The principal wants to take a detour in one of the shops. You know how women are.

Vash flashed me a confused look, but I ignored it.

Got it, Roy said. You need more coverage?

Negative. We’ll only be a moment. Stay vigilant out there. We have no idea how credible these death threats may be.

Yes, sir.

I motioned to Vash and started walking toward the exit. Come on.

Where are we going?

Baggage claim. Radio our contact at the precinct. It’s possible she came in on another flight and is somewhere in the building.

The plan her father gave us said—

"I know what it said, but there are multiple layovers in that flight plan. Who knows what could have happened on one of those stops."

Vash jogged to catch up to me. You’re not saying that someone might have taken her—

I’m not saying anything, not yet. Right now, there’s no reason to panic. There could be a very reasonable explanation for all of this. I turned and followed the crowd down the stairs to baggage claim. She could have turned her layover into an overnight or decided to take an earlier flight. Hell, for all they knew she could have changed her layover to another city because she liked the pastries they served there. Those rich kids all have this sense of invincibility, as if nothing bad will ever happen to them. It makes her unpredictable.

Vash smirked. You sound like an old fart, you know that.

I snorted. Well, it’s true. I used to feel invincible, too, once upon a time. Then I joined the police force and saw far too much to believe that people lived forever. Bullets were the great equalizer. Whether someone was young or old, billionaire or bus driver, they didn’t discriminate. In the end, we all ended up dead.

All my life, I had wanted to follow my older brother’s footsteps and become a police officer. We had always been close, but then Gabe got a job down in Miami. I had always suspected that he had taken that job in order to run away from the ghosts that were haunting all of us in Boston. As he disappeared into his undercover work, I was left feeling adrift. I took a job in New York City and spent a few years as a beat cop while trying to decide what to do with my life. That was where I met Vash and we had become inseparable. Then one day, during an annual review, my boss mentioned that both Vash and I would be good candidates for special weapons and tactics training. I had always been an adrenaline junkie, and being part of a SWAT team intrigued me. After I agreed to try it out, things progressed quickly. I was like a sponge, absorbing information and acing my exams. Vash also performed above average in his assignments, and we became an invincible pair. He often knew what I was thinking before I did. I have no idea what I’d do without him.

It was unheard of to have someone with so little SWAT experience be the site leader for a dignitary protection, but I had done so well on the last two missions that the detail leader, Frank, handpicked me for the position. I would have preferred to be point person for a hostage situation or bomb threat, but at the same time I wasn’t going to let a leadership opportunity like this pass me by. I took being a cop seriously, just like my older brother, father, and his father before him. I wasn’t going to let some political blogger mess up my chances at advancement.

What did this girl look like again? I asked as we hurried down the stairs.

Didn’t you look at the file?

Of course, I did, but that was this morning. So much has happened since then. As the leader of this mission, I didn’t want to miss any detail and had been up to my eyeballs in paperwork. I had only glanced at the bio and picture, hoping to rely on Vash to remember the details.

You’re still irritated that we’re protecting a blogger, aren’t you?

I frowned at him. I’m just doing my job.

Yup, you’re irritated, Vash muttered behind me. Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m irritated, too.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and waited for Vash. With his dark skin and navy suit, he looked more like a storm cloud than a man, and I got the sense that something was bothering him.

What is it? I asked.

You have no idea why we were assigned to protect her, do you?

Does it matter?

Of course, it matters. Vash sighed. There are a lot of people out there all too willing to believe that everything on the internet is true. This girl with her snarky blog has convinced quite a number of people that certain members in the Tanzanian government not only support human trafficking but are intimately involved.

So?

Vash gave me an incredulous look. So? Max, she has accused powerful people of heinous crimes. Those people will not stand by idly and let her spread her lies.

You forget one thing, my friend. I patted him on the back. She may be right. And if she’s right, then she’s doing the world a service by exposing the injustice.

She’s just an ignorant kid.

An ignorant kid that someone wants to silence. I sighed and slid away from his scowl. I suppose it doesn’t matter, really. Whether she is spreading lies or exposing the truth, our assignment remains the same. Hopefully, we just missed her and she’s waiting to get her bags. I put my hands on my hips. Now, remind me what she looks like.

My friend crossed his arms and muttered under his breath. Early twenties and thin. African ancestry. Very light blonde hair and violet eyes.

I glanced at Vash. Violet, eh? Didn’t think that was genetically possible.

He shrugged. They looked violet in the picture, but that could be a trick of lighting. They’re classified as blue.

I frowned. You don’t have a thing for this woman, do you?

No, of course not. I’m married.

Because if you are studying her eyes—

He shrugged. They’re just striking, that’s all.

I chuckled to myself as we started walking through the crowd. It was almost too easy to get under Vash’s skin. Ever since he got married two years ago, he’s been jumpier than a jackrabbit. I suspected trouble at home, arranged marriages rarely went smoothly, but never questioned him about it. When Vash was ready to talk about his home life, he’d talk, and not a moment before.

We moved under the sign for the baggage claim and scanned the crowd. So I’m looking for someone from Africa with violet eyes and blonde hair.

She’s also tall, around six feet at least. And she’s pale, like a vampire.

I crossed my arms and flashed him an irritated look. Vampires? I suppose she sparkles, too.

Vash smirked at me. No sparkles, at least not in the picture.

I snorted. You really need to get out more, man.

Are you offering to buy me a drink? It was hard to miss the hope in his voice. Despite being married, Vash and his wife still lived with his parents, both of whom still clung to their native African traditions. I couldn’t imagine the stress he was under at home, trying to balance his family’s old-fashioned beliefs with his modern American job. Then again, my family had their own traditions that seemed odd to the outside world. Perhaps that was why both Vash and I got along so well. We both felt weighed down by our family legacies and wished to be free of their constricting traditions. We understood each other.

I patted him on the back. I’ll buy you two beers if you can find this woman by the end of our shift. I scanned the area. Okay, so I’m looking for a tall, pale, vampire-like woman with purple eyes. That should be easy enough to find.

Perhaps I spoke too soon. Multiple flights had just arrived, and the place was packed. Tall people, short people, fat and thin, it was going to be next to impossible to pick someone out from this mess, let alone protect them.

If only that blogger had gotten off at the correct terminal. Then I could have sent someone down for her bags while I whisked her away to the secured car waiting outside.

What’s going on down there? Vash asked as he pointed to the far side of the baggage claim.

There was a commotion at the end of one of the belts. A woman in a long, rainbow-colored dress was directing a dark-skinned man in a white suit as he grabbed ruby-red baggage and placed it beside her. The woman had a head scarf the color of blueberries and cream, and when she raised her hand, I could see that her fingers were pale, almost translucent.

Well, what do you know.

Do you think that’s her? Vash asked.

I’d bet my life on it. I started closing the distance between myself and the woman.

Vash hurried in my wake. We must have missed her coming off the plane.

No. I’d never miss someone wearing so much color. It almost seemed as if she absorbed all of the color from the people around her and radiated her own, unique light.

How could she have changed flights without us knowing about it?

Who cares? She’s here, that’s all that matters. Here and alive. If I had anything to say about it, she was going to stay that way.

The man moved back to the baggage carousel, and I seized the opportunity by grabbing her arm. Ms. Abbott, I said. If you don’t mind. I’d like to have a word with you.

The woman with a scarf glanced down at my hand in surprise, then lifted her chin. I’ll do no such thing. She pulled her arm from my grasp. Who are you?

The heavy British accent surprised me as did the regal inflection of her tone. She behaved like a queen or at least someone who was used to being treated like a royalty. I stared as she removed her over-size, Audrey Hepburn-like sunglasses and pressed her full, red lips into a frown. Vash had said she was pale, but pale did not compare to the pearl-like quality of this woman’s skin. She may not be a vampire, but her skin did appear to sparkle, making her seem like a breath of fresh air blowing through the stale lower floor of the airport.

"I said who are you? And for heaven’s sake, stop staring at me like I’m a freak show."

I started to speak, but Vash beat me to it. We’re with the New York City police department. We’re here to meet you. He held up the sign we had made with her name on it.

Is there a problem? The man she had been with appeared out of nowhere and placed his hand along the small of her back. His accent was different than hers. British, yet tinged with something else. His movements suggested that he was both cultured and arrogant, and I imaged the two of them discussing books and politics over finger sandwiches in some upscale, London tea house.

He raised his brows, giving me the impression that he was issuing some sort of silent challenge. I instantly hated him.

No, Kami, Ms. Abbott said as she stepped away from him and patted his arm. It’s okay. They’re just fans, I’m sure.

We’re not fans, I said, finding my voice. We’re your protection.

A small line creased her otherwise perfect forehead. She pulled her scarf tighter around her head and glanced at her companion. Protection?

It seems as if your blogs are quite controversial, Vash said. There are a lot of people who would wish to silence you. There have been some death threats . . .

She glanced at Vash, then returned her focus on me. And I suppose you two are here to make sure that none of those threats become a reality.

I nodded. Yes, ma’am.

Look, Mr. . . .

Ferreira. I cleared my throat. Maximo Ferreira. And this is my partner, Vashon Degera.

Vash nodded. Ms. Abbott.

She wrinkled her nose at him. Degera. That name sounds familiar. Is it Tanzanian?

A hint of a smile touched his lips. Sorry to disappoint you, but I was born right here in the U.S. of A.

While this conversation about Vash’s ancestry was quaint, time was of the essence. The longer we stood out in the open, the more dangerous our situation became.

I cleared my throat and stepped between them, forcing her to break eye contact with my partner and focus on me. We can talk more about this in the car. If you’ll just follow us—

I’m sorry. Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I don’t care who said what, or what orders you have been given. I will not be following anyone, anywhere. She removed her sunglasses, revealing the most beautiful round eyes I had ever seen. They were so large, so perfectly blue, that it was difficult to tell if I was looking at the sky on a clear summer day, or the palest topaz in a platinum setting. They held me, captivated me, and for a long, breathless moment, time stood still.

Do I make myself clear?

Damn, Vash murmured next to me. I guess they’re blue after all.

I pushed aside the surge of desire and straightened my shoulders. At my full height, I was only an inch or two taller than her, so it was difficult to use my size to intimidate. Still, I had to try. This woman needed to come with us for her own safety.

Your life is in danger, Ms. Abbott. Someone wants you gone.

A lot of people don’t like me, Mr. Ferreira, or have you not read my blog? The woman fisted her hands. I don’t care who is threatening me. I refuse to live a life filled with fear.

I widened my eyes in disbelief. Never in a million years would I have guessed that the person we were assigned to protect would not want our protection. But these threats—

Have you ever been hunted, Mr. Ferreira? she asked.

Hunted?

She nodded and inched closer. They hunt people with albinism in Tanzania, you know. That’s why I was there—to protect them.

Albinism? I asked.

She rolled her eyes. People with my condition.

Condition? Okay, I needed to stop parroting her words. I shook my head, trying to shake the spell this woman had over me. While her features hinted at African ancestry, her skin and accent suggested she grew up somewhere in England.

Mr. Ferreira. She rose to her full height, which was just a forehead shy of mine. Do you think me an imbecile?

No, of course not. That’s not the point.

Then you think me frail.

No, I—

She smoothed a long, white strand of hair under her scarf. It’s okay, many people think me both stupid and fragile. She slipped on her glasses once more. They soon learn that I’m neither. Far from it. She nodded to Vash. You can tell your boss that I’ll not be needing any protection. This is New York, not the African jungle. I am perfectly safe from those crazy hunters here.

Did she just say that she had been hunted? This woman was becoming more intriguing by the minute.

She turned away from me in dismissal. Come on Kami. Let’s find that hotel. I’m exhausted.

I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter, I said as I followed her toward the door. Protecting you is our job.

Your job? she said over her shoulder. Who hired you?

The city.

She frowned, and Vash hurried to contribute to the conversation. Your father called the city and faxed several death threats. He’s worried about your safety.

She stopped walking and pressed her lips to a small frown. I’m sure he is. She glanced at her companion. Would you mind hailing a cab?

The man stepped back and gave her a warm smile. Of course. After a nod of the head, he left through the exit.

With all due respect, I said. It isn’t safe out there.

She laughed at me—laughed! The transformation was complete and instantaneous. Gone was the haughty stiffness in her shoulders and the worry lines in her brow. Even with the sunglasses, she appeared softer, more human. As those full, red lips curved upward, I imagined running my finger over them, then nibbling the plump skin until she moaned my name.

I am flattered that you think me important enough to warrant your protection, Mr. Ferreira.

Max.

Max. Her smile widened. But you see, I am just a blogger, not a politician or a celebrity.

To be honest, I had thought the same thing, but her father was a high-level ambassador who had pulled his weight with the local government. I didn’t know the details and probably wouldn’t care about them if I did. I had always been a results man. Anything even remotely political caused me to break out in hives. Despite my aversion, this ambassador’s pull had caused a frenzy in the department that ended with me tracking down the woman with pale skin in LaGuardia International