Seeking Fiona: Delta Force Guardians

By Jennifer Becker

Fiona Ortiz has recently returned from the Congo hoping for a fresh start. But a past she thought she left behind just caught up with her. Not knowing what else to do, Fiona is on the run again. This time to Texas to her brother’s house, but he’s not home. Instead she finds his larger than life and always with an easy grin teammate, Vincent. The man she has been secretly in love with for years.   

 

When Vincent “Romeo” Green was asked to check on Hector's house, the last thing he expected to find was Hector’s youngest sister, Fiona. His every instinct tells him to send her away but she’s in danger.

 

A kiss has haunted him for years making him yearn for more, but she’s his best friend’s sister and totally hands off. Easier said than done. With every step closer to finding Fiona’s stalker the two grow closer, but her stalker isn’t willing to give her up without a fight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Sep 15, 2020

Book preview

Martin

Chapter 1

Vince cursed Fiona and her dramatics as he stomped up Ortiz’s front steps to make sure the door was locked. Ortiz, a fellow teammate and his best friend, had called him that morning, telling him Fiona, his baby sister, had gone missing and he’d had to leave so quickly to find her that he didn’t remember locking his house door. Leave it to Fiona to send everyone into a panic. She had been no better when they rescued her in the Congo a few weeks back. Clinging to her brother like a lifeline, endangering them. 

Vince expelled a deep breath. He was being unfair. Fiona had always been a sheltered girl. The youngest of twelve girls with a protective mother and a horde of aunts and older sisters that would kill for her. He still didn’t know how Ortiz survived it growing up, being the only male besides his father. Vince had met his family once and that had been scary as hell. The women had tried cutting up his food, mothering him like he was a child. It was no wonder Fiona didn’t know how to survive on her own. You couldn’t sneeze in her house without one of the women hovering over you, seeing if you had a cold. 

And the yelling. Oh my god, the yelling. It was never-ending, over nothing sometimes. Two of his sisters Marcia and Elena argued for half an hour straight about the right way to fold socks. Socks. I mean, come on. It was either roll them or fold them. Who cared who did it what way? But to those women, it was like watching World War III break out. Everyone else in the house seemed oblivious to it, like it was a common occurrence. It probably was.

Which brought up the next concern, what would possess Fiona to run away? She didn’t have anywhere to go but her home. The Congo was the furthest she’d ever been away. Not that he was keeping track, just a casual observation.

Could it be something to do with the Congo? It was a pretty traumatic experience for a newbie. Lord knew her family wouldn’t be very helpful. They would give her all the love and support she needed, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Look at Tony, another teammate of his, the man had to finally go to Dr. Grace to get his head on straight. She was young but the military, fire department, and even the police department, used her a lot.

Maybe that’s what Fiona needed. A therapist. She wasn’t allowed to talk about what happened in the Congo due to the sensitivity of the mission, but maybe talking to a therapist about her experience, leaving some details out, would help. 

He didn’t know why he should care. Just being helpful. It wasn’t any of his business. Fiona meant nothing to him. 

Liar. 

He couldn’t even lie to his subconscious. He had wanted Fiona since the moment he met her. Long, curly dark chocolate hair that cascaded down her back. A trim waist, legs for miles. He liked a tall woman for whom he didn’t have to bend in half to kiss. Fiona was just the perfect height. The top of her head just coming to his lips. She’d only have to tilt back and he’d only have to lean forward for them to kiss, but she was off limits. She was Ortiz’s little sister. A major no-no. It was a line he would never cross. Well, again. He had kissed her once. Years ago. A kiss that was still burned in his brain. She’d tasted so sweet and innocent. He wouldn’t be surprised if that had been her first kiss. But it would be the last for them. Damn, but he wanted more. 

For the first time in his life, he wanted more. He didn’t want to sleep with just another nameless partner. He wanted her but knew he could never have her. He’d taken advantage of her innocence and told her things he would never forgive himself for and left. It was the only way to keep his distance. It had worked until recently. The Congo had been torture. Even dirty and disheveled, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Her bright golden eyes, though afraid, still captivated.

So many times, he had wished it was him to comfort her instead of Savannah or Ortiz, even though he didn’t have a right to. Any time she looked at him, it was with hurt and anger. He couldn’t blame her. He’d put that wedge between them. It was his fault. He’d said things that were unforgivable. All because he was too much of a coward to admit what he felt for her. He came with up with all kinds of excuses why it would never work. Her family, his job, their ages, her brother. They were all legit excuses that he stood by. 

He just needed to forget about her. She was somewhere in Florida and Ortiz would find her. He would check Ortiz’s door and go to the gym afterward to burn off some energy.

He was sure Ortiz had locked it, the man was too OCD to forget, but he’d promised to check. Vince rattled the doorknob. Sure enough, the door was locked. Vince rolled his eyes, thinking it had been a wasted trip. 

Vince shook his head, walking back down the steps when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The flowering bushes on the side of the walkway were bent and broken flowers were scattered on the ground. There hadn’t been any wind last night, so the only plausible reason he could think of was someone had walked through them, and it wasn’t likely it was Ortiz. A burglar? 

Vince walked along the side of the house, finding foot impressions in the dirt, confirming his theory. Judging by the size of the impressions, it was a tall person. Vince pulled his knife out of his boot and kept it at his side, just in case. Too many years of sneak attacks had taught him to always keep a weapon on hand. He followed the tracks to the back of the house. Vince made a mental note to tell Ortiz to get a fence. With as often as they were gone, it wouldn’t hurt to add another measure of security. 

Vince approached the back door carefully; all the blinds were drawn, so he couldn’t see in. He would be going in blind. Good thing he knew the layout of the house. A glance at the doorknob showed there were scratches on the door lock, a sign of forced entry. Whoever it was, knew how to pick a lock, but not proficiently, and obviously wasn’t a friendly or they would know where the hide-a-key was and didn’t need to pick the lock to begin with. 

Ortiz would have noticed the scratched lock when he left not too long ago and made mention of it, which meant this was recent. Sometime since Ortiz left. The foot impressions in the ground supported that. There were tracks going in but not out, which meant the burglar was most likely still inside.

Vince retrieved the key from the false brick under the back window and opened the door before putting the key back. He entered the house quietly, avoiding the squeaky floorboards as he made his way through the house. A quick sweep showed no one downstairs. Nothing had even been disturbed. Whoever it was that broke in wasn’t looking for things to steal and later sell. So why break in? Wasn’t that the purpose of breaking in? Steal things to make a quick buck?

He still had the upstairs to check. 

There were only two bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. It wouldn’t take long. He would make sure the perp wasn’t still there before calling Ortiz to see if he wanted the police involved or not. Then he was going to the hardware store and getting new locks installed.  

Vince checked Ortiz’s bedroom and bathroom first. Nothing. He checked the spare bath and noticed the sink had been used. The water was still dripping even. The shower was also wet, with a damp towel hanging on a hook near it. Ortiz was the biggest playboy Vince had ever met, and that was saying a lot considering his own track record, but he never invited women over to his home and he hadn’t had any guests over recently. Had the perp used the bathroom? Nothing about this situation was adding up. 

There was only one place left to check. The guest bedroom.

Vince held his knife at chest level as he approached the bedroom expecting anything. He slowed his breathing, only breathing in and out of his nose so he didn’t give his position away. His hand was steady as he held his knife at the ready in case someone came out of the shadows attacking him. 

His ears perked up for any different sound. A creak on the floor, breathing. The movement of fabric. It had taken him years to hone all of those skills. Skills that had saved his life more times than he cared to remember. So far all was silent.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Another thing out of place, indicating someone else was there. Vince gently pushed the door open enough that he could slip in. The room was dark, except for a small ray of light coming from below the curtains across the room. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark as he looked around the room. When no one jumped out at him, he focused on the bed.

The blankets were kicked to the foot of the bed with a body lying in the middle of it. Vince raised his knife up as he stood at the edge of the bed. He couldn’t make out more than a slim figure in a shirt and shorts that looked too large for them. The form stirred as if knowing he stood above them, when suddenly an ear-piercing screech rang out before something connected with his crotch. 

Vince was momentarily blinded by hot piercing pain and dropped his knife and hunched over, groaning in agony. Damn, he should have seen that coming. He just hadn’t expected a female to be in the bed. Or to respond in such a brutal way.

The woman punched him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground as she scrambled over him, running for the door. He couldn’t let her get away. She obviously didn’t belong there. Why was she hiding in Ortiz’s house? How did she know he was gone? So many questions that would go unanswered if he let her get away.

Hobbling to his feet and choking back bile, Vince leapt at the woman, catching her around the legs and bringing her down to the ground. She tried crawling out of his grip as he climbed over her. He caught a tantalizing scent that seemed familiar to him but he couldn’t quite place it. Then an elbow came back toward his face and all he could think about was protecting his assets.

Woman, stop. I’m not going to hurt you. His words fell on deaf ears. She never ceased in her struggles to be free.

Let me go, the woman shouted. 

Vince froze. That voice. He knew it. That was why he knew that scent. Citrus. But she couldn’t be who he thought she was. She was supposed to be back home. Vince turned the woman over. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t turned on any lights so he could see what his brain was trying to tell him. Fiona?

Chapter 2

Vincent handed her a mug of coffee and she wrapped her hands around it like it was a lifeline. After their confrontation upstairs, Vincent had ordered her to get dressed in real clothes and practically dragged her down to the kitchen. The only clothes she had were the ones she’d driven here from work in, which included a light blue blouse, a black pencil skirt that stopped just at the top of her knees, and a pair of flat shoes. She debated running again, but where would she go? She had hoped hiding at Joaquín’s would be the last place anyone would expect to find her. Her family treated her like she was an easily breakable piece of porcelain and incapable of making up her own mind.

She had fought her mother tooth and nail to not follow the family business but go into the medical field instead. All the women of her family either worked at the law firm or were housewives. That wasn’t the life Fiona wanted for herself. She enjoyed helping people with injuries, not suing people. She hated sitting behind a desk for hours at a time, staring at briefings until her eyes crossed and the words blurred.

The Congo expedition had come at a perfect opportunity. It had been meant to show her family she could do what she wanted, what she was passionate about. But after the skirmish with the local militia and Joaquín telling her parents what had happened—the CliffsNotes version—they were even more protective now. Locking her in a gilded cage. Forbidding her to do medical work ever again. They might as well tell her to stop breathing. She had loved helping sick people. Assisting with surgeries. Knowing she was helping people in need, not those that were breaking the law.

Savannah, a woman who practically grew up in the Congo, had taken her under her wing and become close friends. She let Fiona be her own person. It had been so liberating. If only she hadn’t ruined it by freaking out so much when the militia kept attacking. Savannah had always kept a cool head. But not her. Fiona had clung to her brother like a leech.

She was tired of feeling like a victim. She’d taken a few self-defense classes, when she returned, which helped. It was better than the alternative. A therapist. She honestly didn’t want to talk about what happened. She’d rather forget it. Forget everything. The things that had happened before the Congo or even after. It didn’t matter anymore. She had run away from home and didn’t plan on going back. She couldn’t anymore. Not as long as she was in danger. 

Now, she needed to figure out her next move. Obviously staying at Joaquín’s for a few days was now out of the question. Out of all the people to find her, why did it have to be Vincent? Looking at him hurt. His words from years ago still haunted her. She thought about asking him not to tell Joaquín she was there and leave her alone, but she knew he was too loyal to do that. He would call Joaquín without hesitation. She felt guilty worrying her family, especially Joaquín, but she had to stay away. It was for their own safety.

Vincent sat down across from her, glaring daggers. She hid a smile behind her mug as she took a sip, seeing the bruise forming on his jaw. Good. He deserved it. What man stood over a woman’s bed with a knife and didn’t expect her to defend herself?

Why are you here, Fiona? he asked, sounding almost bored. Like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Good, he could leave while she made a new plan. She could call

Reviews for Seeking Fiona

[Amanda Rooney · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

In my opinion this book lacks depth. Fiona’s stalker is apparently the reason she is forced to spend time with Vince, however after reading multiple paragraphs per chapter detailing why she and Vince can’t try a relationship and little in regards to her being stalked or what she’s hiding from Vince I got tired of the repetition and just stopped reading.
I like when the hero knows what he wants and then goes after it. Vince knows what he wants but the premise of the book is built around the fact that he doesn’t have the courage to go after it and that just annoyed me.