Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4)

“I’m going to wear my scars like a badge,” Dugal said.

Three days after the carnage at her apartment, her Scottish neighbor was coherent enough to talk to the detectives to give his statement. The room was crowded. Besides Gabby and Kelso, John, and Bristow, as well as Arthur and Clyde, her father—who was released yesterday—gathered to give a full reconstruction of how Morris and his partner got to the rooftop.

“I just want to make it clear since all of you are here, everything was done by the book,” Kelso said. “It was the responsibility of the LAPD to provide our crime analyst with security, not Homeland Security.” John, Bristow, and Levi were still playing the DHS card. “There was a patrol car in front of the apartments. Because of the Halloween festivities, Officer Tarrant was stationed in front of Nadia’s apartment. Officer Nero was positioned at the bottom of the stairs that led straight to the rooftop. It’s my understanding, Mr. Cameron, that you noticed an officer down.”

“Aye. On my way back from handing Arthur and Clyde their food, I noticed the officer disappeared. Is he going to be all right?”

Nadia learned that Officer Nero was shot in the back and then dragged behind the dumpster right beside that particular staircase.

“He’s expected to make a full recovery,” Kelso said.

“I knew Levi was reluctant to leave Nadia alone,” Dugal said. “So I told him I could be counted on as extra security. I even showed him my sword.”

“Impressive sword,” Gabby said.

The Scotsman’s grin was smug.

“Unfortunately,” Gabby added. “We had to confiscate it as evidence.”

Dugal scowled. “I’m not going to be charged with murdering that bastard, am I?”

“They better not.” Nadia glared at her colleagues. “I’ll stand witness.”

“He saved us,” Stephen added. “I’ll vouch for him too.”

“Don’t worry. I doubt the prosecutor will even bring up charges what with Officer Tarrant’s report insisting it was self-defense as well. Morris and his partner made an armed incursion into your apartment and held you at gunpoint. We just want to have the sequence of events nailed down.” Kelso coughed. “Pardon the pun.”

Everyone chuckled at the morbid humor in reference to the man Dugal impaled to the wall.

After another ten minutes of everyone giving their accounts of the incident, Dugal started waning, his eyes drifting close as he fought to stay awake. As if on cue, a nurse, followed by Colin, Alec, and their eldest brother, Jamie, the stuntman, walked in.

“All right, time’s up, folks. Our patient needs his rest.”

Kelso and Gabby thanked Dugal for his time and left.

As the rest of them filed out, Clyde grabbed Dugal’s hand. “I’m so glad it was you watching Nadia. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“You will find your courage when ye need it, old man,” the Scot said.

Stephen added, “Nevertheless, we’re thankful you took one for the team.”

“You did too, Stephen,” Dugal said. “Your love for your daughter saved us all. If you hadn’t stopped that bastard from shooting, I would be dead.

Arthur concurred.

“I wasn’t going to let anyone take my family from me again,” Stephen replied fiercely. “And my family includes crazy old Scots.”

Dugal chuckled, then grimaced. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“All right, everybody who is not family needs to leave,” the nurse repeated more firmly.

Bristow waved at Dugal and left with the MoMoS.

Nadia and John took their turns by his bedside.

“Thanks for saving my woman,” John said.

“Anytime.” Dugal’s lids flitted to half-mast. “Just take care of her.”

John wrapped his arms around Nadia. “Count on it. I doubt I’ll let her out of my sight.”

“You keep threatening that,” she groused.

“I don’t think it’s a threat, lass … and I’m trying not to laugh,” Dugal groaned.

At the disapproving look from the nurse again, Nadia slipped out of John’s embrace and went to hug Dugal’s sons. “Your dad is such a brave man.”

“He’ll be a tough act to follow,” Colin agreed.

“You all are talking about me like I’m dying,” Dugal complained.

Giving the younger Scots another squeeze, Nadia returned to Dugal’s side to give him a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room with John.

Getting all the MoMoS into a safe house was proving to be an exercise in patience.

Arthur needed to bring some of his exotic plants.

“They’ll die without meticulous care,” the botanist said.

It was a wonder that John kept his sarcasm in check. Of course, the plants would die. They were native to the damned Amazon, not California.

And Clyde couldn’t go without his leather chair.

John had told him. “I did mention the house was fully furnished, right?”

“My sciatica has special needs,” Clyde sniffed. “I had that specially made from Burmese rosewood.”

Which explained why the leather chair weighed a ton for something that looked like a regular armchair. The premium timber was similar to mahogany. John made sure to wrap the whole piece in moving plastic because that shit was expensive, and he’d hate to fuck it up.

Surprisingly, most of the men were not ornery. John was thankful for that, but they were set in their ways and just the change of environment might turn the merry men into grumpy ones. Nadia didn’t need that shit, and John was sure they would keep it from her, but the downside of reading people so well was they couldn’t hide it from him, and he didn’t need that shit either.

Although mostly he was patient because he’d grown fond of the old buggers and making them happy was making him … happy.

Shit.

Stephen, thank God, was a pro when it came to living in safe houses.

John made two trips with the U-Haul truck. Granted the biggest truck wasn’t available, but with the way Clyde and Arthur packed, one would think they were leaving for a year instead of a few weeks. Dugal would be joining the rest of the MoMoS once he checked out in another few days. Colin was staying to help his dad. He must have packed Dugal’s entire kitchen when John informed him about the concept of takeout. Besides, they had a fully equipped kitchen.

To which the younger Scot scoffed, “If they are to heal faster, they need proper nourishment.”

Proper nourishment.

Who said that?

Thank fuck, Bristow agreed to stay in the house too. There were six bedrooms and seven full bathrooms. More than enough room and facilities that they wouldn’t be on top of each other. Roarke and Gabby were just a few houses down the same road.

He sent Levi home to Kelly and his daughters. John didn’t want to be on his wife’s shit list, seeing that he was going to be needing a favor from her soon.

When he drove through the gates, he was surprised to see an Audi RS Q8 he didn’t recognize parked right at the side of the house. He couldn’t recall anyone he knew driving one, and he immediately went on guard, but eased up when he spotted Nadia laughing with Arthur. They were carrying some pots to put on the bare driveway garden border probably to catch the midday sun. The pavement sloped down from the gate and wrapped around the house to the back where the entrance of the residence was located. Were their visitors Arthur or Clyde’s children? John sure hoped they weren’t handing out the address. The menfolk had been briefed that they were going to a safe house, not Club Med.

The driveway allowed plenty of room for two vehicles to pass side by side. John had a feeling he would derive immense pleasure if his vehicle kissed the Audi just a little bit. Still, his ego wouldn’t allow him to make such an error—even deliberate—because there was enough room for the U-Haul to pass through.

When he pulled the truck in front of the double-door entrance, Nadia bounded up to him. He got down from the vehicle. After giving her a quick kiss, he asked, “Who came in the Audi?”

“Antonio and Charly are here!” Nadia announced.

His brow furrowed, but a grin touched the corners of his mouth. “Aren’t they supposed to be on their honeymoon? They just got married … like what …”

“Two weeks ago,” Nadia finished. “But Charly heard about dad …”

Charly had been infected with a mutation of the weaponized Ebola virus which didn’t work with the antiviral she created. However, Stephen happened to be the scientist who synthesized the virus’s backbone and was able to tweak the existing antiviral to save her.

John had to admit, their group had formed an indelible bond given the numerous dicey situations that had come their way. Add to that how some had started coupling up, they’d become close to a blended family. Not only personally but professionally as well. John always had planned to build his resources inside the LAPD, but he didn’t expect it to get personal. And now?

He braced for that suffocating feeling to hit him whenever people got too close. That need to disappear when attachments were getting too personal.

Nothing.

He exhaled a breath of relief.

He was all fucking in.

“Who’s the Audi?” Roarke asked. He and Bristow ambled up to Nadia and John.

“Andrade and Charly,” John answered.

“Why are they here?” Roarke asked, then his brows shot up in realization. “Oh, Stephen.” Then he frowned. “How did they find out?”

All eyes swung to Bristow who shrugged. “Charly and I still communicate. I thought she should know.”

John smiled as an idea took shape. “Know what?” he clapped Bristow’s shoulder. “That gives us an extra body to help unload the truck.”

When they entered the house, Charly was on the couch talking to Stephen, while Clyde was keeping Andrade busy—moving furniture. John had to keep from laughing. The billionaire appeared game, though. One could even say there was an indulgent look on the man’s face.

John’s thoughts turned somber. Maybe Andrade was missing his friend Luis. Though Antonio didn’t have any military background, the man could hold his own in any fight whether it involved guns or fists. And he could be ruthless if any of his loved ones were threatened. John suspected Antonio had something to do with cartel boss Benito Carillo getting murdered in prison. It was a good thing the billionaire was on their side.

“Guys!” Charly jumped up from the couch and strode over to greet them. She gave him a hug and then pulled back to stare at him accusingly. “You disappeared from the taco party. Antonio and I haven’t been able to thank you properly.”

“No thanks needed. Just doing my job,” he said.

She gave him a squeeze on the arm, before transferring her attention to Bristow and gave the SEAL a tight hug.

Antonio strolled over to them. “Garrison, heard you were recent guests at a Ukrainian dungeon.”

“I’ve had better accommodations,” he deadpanned. “Perfect timing. We could use your muscles to move shit.”

“So it seems,” Antonio answered absentmindedly. His attention was on his new bride who was still chatting animatedly with Bristow and Roarke. Andrade moved closer to Charly, clasping her shoulder, and drawing her against his chest.

A move John was familiar with. He’d seen it with Roarke, he’d seen it with Migs, and John remembered a couple of times he’d done it too.

Possessiveness.

This burning, intense desire to be the source of your woman’s every joy and the recipient of that expression that depicted said joy.

Garrison angled his body toward Nadia who gave him a raised brow. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to his side, touching his lips to her brow.

“I can’t believe it,” Charly gasped, extricating herself from her husband’s hold and walking up to them, eyes wide, gaze transfixed. “Bristow said something was brewing between you two—”

Bristow coughed. “It’s past brewing—”

John shot the ginger-haired SEAL a glare. “And Bristow has a big mouth.” He was the only one on the team who knew Nadia was pregnant, but John had a feeling that secret was not going to remain a secret for much longer.

“So did you grovel?” Charly asked.

“Why should he grovel?” Nadia leaned away from him and shot him a suspicious look. “Is there something I don’t know that you’ve done?”

“Minha Linda.” Antonio retrieved his wife, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Are we causing trouble here?”

“Oh …” Charly laughed. “Not really.” Her eyes dipped to Nadia. “We were wondering where you were when the Z-9 series was happening because Hank was having trouble—”

“Hey, I managed as best I could,” Bristow protested.

“You seem to be digging your hole deeper, gatinha,” Antonio drawled. Yet in the way he was gazing fondly at his wife, there was no doubt the bastard was smitten.

“Soooo,” Charly addressed Nadia. “We asked where you were, and Garrison said you quit. Everyone came to the conclusion that he’d been an asshole to you… which he confirmed.” She paused and glanced at John. “Or was it because you didn’t deny it?”

“Don’t fucking remember.” John shifted Nadia to the front of him, his arms around her in a full embrace, to keep her from bolting just in case the doctor let her mouth continue to run. Christ, he wasn’t expecting to get roasted. His eyes lifted to Andrade. “Please rein in your wife before I end up sleeping on the couch.”

Charly grinned and shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Hey. Any food?” Bristow interjected, and then winked at John in a move to change the subject, ushering the crowd at the entrance further into the house. “We’re starving.”

Not that he needed saving from the feisty doctor, but John didn’t want to rehash the Mexico thing. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments.

“Lasagna in the oven,” Nadia said.

“You cooked?” Roarke asked.

“No,” Nadia replied. “I reheated. I’m quite impressed. The freezer came fully stocked with food that can feed an army.”

She was about to follow into the kitchen when John pulled her back.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re okay, right?”

Her brows furrowed. “You’re talking about the Mexico thing?”

“Yeah.”

Arguing from the kitchen interrupted her reply. Roarke and Bristow were at odds with Clyde and Antonio on whether the lasagna was ready.

“The timer says ten minutes more,” Roarke said.

“The cheese is bubbling, and it’s browned on top,” Antonio said. “It’s done.”

“What do you know? You have a housekeeper,” Bristow shot back.

“Antonio has become an expert in reheating food,” Charly defended her husband.

“For fuck’s sake,” Nadia muttered and made to go to the kitchen again.

John held her back. “Let them handle it.”

She blew out a breath and relented.

“It is ready.” Clyde put in his two cents. “I wouldn’t trust the timer because Nadia set it. She can’t cook, much less reheat stuff.”

“Hey, I can reheat stuff,” Nadia protested. “Some.” She added under her breath.

John waited patiently for her attention to return to him. Somehow, he had a feeling Nadia was doing it on purpose to mess with him.

He was right. When she glanced up at him, there was a mischievous glint in her eyes and her mouth curved coyly. “Maybe Charly has a point. You were pretty mean. I need to make you grovel.”

He looped an arm around her and murmured into her ear. “As long as you don’t deny me access to this body. I’ll do whatever you want.”

John grinned when she shuddered against him.

The noise around them seemed to have died down, and when both of them looked around, all eyes were riveted on them.

Stephen had risen from the couch, but a faint smile was playing on his lips. Arthur and Clyde were looking on like indulgent uncles. Declan, Bristow, and Antonio were smirking. And Charly? Charly was staring at them with a goofy smile on her face as if she’d witnessed the most romantic scene.

Fuck.

For the first time ever, heat rose up his cheeks.

“Oh my god, I’m swooning,” Charly called from the kitchen.

Declan said something about taking a video for Gabby to see.

Bristow said something about Roarke’s wife already knowing that Garrison’s had the moves.

“Fuck,” John muttered.

“John, are you blushing?” the woman in his arms beamed at him, flashing her genuine Nadia smile.

He grinned. “I believe I am.”