Chapter One

Ah, that new car smell. Makes you want to take a deep breath and sink into the soft black leather seats. I've missed being chauffeured around in the back of a new Escalade. It was one of the perks of my old life. As Assistant DA, someone else got to focus on New Jersey traffic while I prepared for a case. Not that you could mistake my current driver with his military buzz cut and tight black t-shirt that showed off some serious muscle with the suit and tie plain clothes security the city of Belmont hired.

The big guy in the front seat is Andre. He works for Archangel, a private security company that specializes in that grey zone between legal and moral. There's no logo on his shirt but the wooden rosary around his neck gives it away. All the guys get one when they make it past the recruit phase. It's about as close to a badge and a name tag as these guys get. I'm also pretty sure there is some next gen technology going on with those things, but I'm not going there. Curiosity is what got me here in the first place.

My current name is Jessica Rider. My friends call me Jessie or Junior. My name used to be Jessica Mancini before my life got turned upside down when a corrupt politician put a hit out on me and everyone close to me. That's how I ended up in protective custody of sorts. Archangel isn't exactly sanctioned by any government law enforcement. Which is a good thing considering who is trying to kill me.

It still blows my mind how they knew I needed rescuing. They were tipped off by my best friend Abby. She is super smart. Like beyond genius smart. She is also super sneaky. All those years I thought she was working at some New York think tank solving famine and curing cancer, she was really working for military groups and spy agencies.

I found out later that my ex-boyfriend, Flynn, is one of the founders of Archangel. We had all gone to school together. He had recruited Abby to work with them. Why she didn't tell me he had finally gotten his life back together, or that he had been secretly watching my back for a while, is beyond me. I thought we didn't keep secrets from each other. I'll have to ask her about all of it if I ever get to see her again.

Flynn looks like a cross between a badass soldier and a GQ cover model. Tall with sandy blonde hair, ice blue eyes and perfectly chiseled muscles under a tailored suit. We agreed that we are better off as friends. Though it hasn't stopped him from being featured in a few fantasies lately. Not that I would ever tell him as much.

He was the love of my life in high school. We were going to get married. Had a date set and everything. Then something happened on one of his deployments. He spiraled out of control. He was hell bent on destroying everything in his life. I finally had to walk away to save myself. It was tough but I eventually graduated law school and married somebody else.

Flynn was the guy who helped get me out of Belmont before I ended up dead. We went through a lot together those first few weeks after my rescue. Almost actually dying and being stranded in a desert safe house for weeks has a way of bringing people closer together. Somewhere between the tears and the yelling and the late-night talks, we both found forgiveness and a type of bond that defies explanation.

I try not to think about everything that happened that led up to Archangel staging my death and moving me to Houston. I also try not to think too much about how this was supposed to be only temporary until they were able to get some hard evidence. Considering we are coming up on the four year anniversary of my death, I'm kind of having a hard time believing this is going to end any time soon. Luckily, they set me up with a great job that keeps me busy and my mind off of, well, you know, hitmen possibly looking for me.

For now, I'm Jessica Rider, independent business consultant with Executive Specialties.

Executive Specialties is like the management firm version of Archangel. Where Archangel is security, investigations and extraction teams, Executive Specialties manages your high security office buildings and hires people for sensitive positions. Their background checks would make the CIA jealous. The owner of Executive Specialties, Isaac "Mac" McMillen, is close friends with the guys who started Archangel. They were all in the Middle-East together, but none of them really talk about it.

Mostly I work as a project manager. I specialize in sensitive mergers and building projects where the red tape could compromise security. Occasionally I work off the books as a legal consultant to Archangel. Sometimes I think, Flynn, asks me to consult on jobs just so he can check up on me without actually checking up on me.

The first rule of taking on a new identity is to stay as close to the truth as possible. That's why they didn't change my first name. It's too easy to screw up and give the wrong name. They did make my shoulder length brown hair long and blonde, thanks to extensions and a die job. Blue contact lenses disguise my green eyes.

I'm hiding in plain sight.

It took me the better part of a year to not freak out when I saw myself in the mirror. After four years, the blonde hair has grown on me but I would kill to be able to ditch the contacts. Touching my eyeball every day is almost as bad as being forced to drive in Houston traffic.

I usually drive a red Dodge Charger that comes complete with dash cams and tracking devices. You would think that would be cool except I hate driving. I hate everything about driving. I'm not even sure why I got my license in the first place. The red deathtrap was totaled by a drunk driver a few weeks ago. Now I like driving even less. Which I didn't think was possible. Eventually they are going to replace that darn thing. Until then I am going to do my best to be one with this leather seat and enjoy the ride.

Currently I'm heading to my latest assignment with Executive Specialties. For the next few months, I'll be working at the Carmen Building. It's an 18-story building about halfway between my apartment on the outskirts of town and downtown Houston. The owner, Carlos Carmen, is a really good friend. He also owns the building my apartment is in. Which is how I scored such a great place for the price.

It was turning out to be my lucky day. No driving and a cushy assignment.

Since my car is totaled, Mac's assistant, Missy, sent the car for me. I would thank her except she is also the person who sent a very rude delivery driver to my door at 7:30 on a Saturday morning.

Ok, maybe he was a little rude because he had been out there banging on my door for a while. But in my defense, I didn't get back into town until midnight last night and I wasn't expecting to be back to work until Monday.

The package had been a note, a couple files and a replacement phone. The note was much like Missy herself, short and to the point: The new phone was coming out of my pay. I had a new assignment at CJ Carmen Company. She would send a car round at nine to drive me. No asking. Just assuming I would take the job and not have any plans.

OK, maybe I didn't have any plans. Other than Tuesday night Bunco and the occasional girls' night out or coffee date, the highlight of my day is usually a good book and a cup of tea. But still, it would be nice if she would ask for a change.

I had dropped my phone yesterday on the way to the airport. Which was no big deal. It wasn't like I kept anything important on my phone anyway. A few contacts and apps. In hindsight having my Uber app last night would have been great. Getting a cab at that hour was a little creepy. Flynn would have had a fit if he knew.

It would have been nice if Missy had sent muffins with the envelope. All I have in my kitchen was a half-eaten jar of peanut butter, some stale saltines, and coffee. So, I listened to my messages while the coffee was brewing and made a note to stop by the bakery on my way to work.

Mac: "Junior, call me back."

Mac again: "I need you to be back before Monday. Luanna won't tell me what resort you are at, so I'm hoping you are checking your cell. Call me."

I had to laugh at that. Given Mac's talents and connections, he could have found me without Luanna's help.

Missy: "Straight to voicemail. Really?" **yelling off in the background** "Mac, she broke another phone!"

Luanna: "Just checking to see if you are home yet. I tried the resort but you were checked out. Call me when you get in. I don't care how late."

Couple hang up calls.

Carlos: "Did Mac get ahold of you yet? Well, great news, Joshua is back. I need you working on the merger deal with us like we discussed. I know the boy is going to give me crap, but maybe he'll behave if there are witnesses. I'll be in the office on Saturday. Can't wait to see you. You can tell me all about your," there was a pause. "Oh, crap. Don't tell Luanna I told you Joshua was home. She'll kill me for spoiling the surprise. Love ya, Junior. Glad you're home."

Another hang up call.

Luanna: "I almost forgot. We are having a dinner party tomorrow night. I hope you can come. Only if you are feeling up to it. I miss you! So much I want to tell you. Call me."

My attorney, Roberto sounding way too chipper: "Hey, call me when you get back. There's been a development in your case and I need to talk to you."

Any time he tried to sound chipper it was bad news. Since he would most likely be at the party, I decided I would wait until then to talk to him. At least I can have a drink in my hand when he drops the bad news.

Luanna again: "Where are you? You should be back by now. Call me."

Todd from State Farm: "Ms. Rider, I'm sorry to tell you, your car is a complete loss. Give me a call back and I'll walk you through the next steps."

Luanna again: "Don't make me come find you. I need to see you in one piece with my own eyes. I've had the guest house made up for you. Call me."

Then there were the usual texts from my friends Tessa, Elle, and Kate. Tessa, my roommate, was off on a new renovation so she wouldn't be home for a few weeks. That meant I had the apartment to myself. Elle was off to Atlanta and would call on Monday. Kate wanted to get together for coffee this week to catch up. I decided I would text them all back in the car after I called Luanna.

The call with Luanna went as expected. After assuring her I am fine and a few apologies for not calling sooner, I had been roped into staying in the guest house for the rest of the weekend. It wasn't anything new. If Luanna had her way, I would live there permanently. As it is, I spend almost every weekend there if I'm not tied up with work. Not that it's a hardship. The house in River Oak was right on the golf course with a pool and a personal chef. Considering I can't cook, a personal chef was by no means a bad thing.

The town car rounded the corner and the Carmen Building came into view. The tall steel and glass building also housed the CJ Carmen Company. Their offices take up three of the upper floors. A few of the floors are luxury apartments. The rest of the building was rented out to other offices, including my lawyer and Archangel.

Roberto's office is on the 8th floor. Being Saturday, he is probably out on the golf course. Another reason to not stop by to see what he wanted. I'm really not in the mood for any bad news right now.

Archangel takes up the top three floors. This gives them easy access to the helicopter pad on the roof. They also have a vault in the basement that isn't exactly on the building plans and a private elevator for select floors. I know this because this building was one of my first projects when I started working for Mac.

We pulled around back and headed up the ramp to the secured parking levels. This area was reserved for tenants and other people with security clearance. The lower levels were general parking.

Andre waved to the guard and maneuvered us into one of the parking spots reserved for Archangel. They got the prime floors, the prime parking and a few other perks, but in return they provided security for all of the Carmen properties.

I shouldered my purse and grabbed my overnight duffle. Then did my best to slide out of the backseat of the SUV in a skirt without showing anything important.

"I can take your bag, ma'am," Andre said as we walked to the elevators.

I said, "No, thank you," and kept walking.

This got me a strange look from Andre. Like he didn't know if he should insist. Archangel has strict rules about ethics and manners. Though it's probably more because this is Texas and somehow it's bad manners for me to not accept his offer. The Jersey girl in me doesn't really care. It feels good to have control over something in my life. Even if it is just a duffle bag.

The elevator doors opened and Andre punched the button for the top floor. I punched 12 for the Carmen offices. No way was I going all the way up to the Archangel offices. I had a lot of time to think while I was laid up after the car accident. The more I thought, the more I got frustrated with my situation and with them.

Sure, they are the good guys. I know that. The fact that I'm still alive is proof of that. The problem is after four years they aren't any closer to getting any answers. I'm getting a little tired of waiting. You would think with all that brain power and fire power, someone would have found enough proof to prosecute the bad guys and get me home.

No one tells you how hard it's going to be. It's not like there is a Witness Protection for Dummies book out there. Holidays and birthdays were the worst. For instance, right now I should be planning my joint birthday party with my BFF, Abby. But no, I'm stuck in Houston and Abby is who-knows-where. I can't even have a real birthday party on my real birthday because they moved my birthday to August when they changed my identity.

Ok, deep breaths. Now is not the time to be getting all worked up again. So what if those people have gotten away with murder these last four years? So what if I don't know if Abby is really ok? Flynn slips me a card from her every year saying she is fine. So, she must be fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine.

Yep, fine. Sorta fine. Ok, not at all fine, but I can fake it. I have a life here now. I even have a few new friends. Who needs a stinking birthday party anyways? Or to see your BFF? Just because you've celebrated your joint birthdays together since forever! So what that it's been four years!?

Maybe I should go all the way up and give the guys a piece of my mind. It probably wouldn't do any good but it might make me feel better. I might even see Flynn and he can talk me down from going home to Jersey to kick some ass on my own. Though, logically I know that would only get me killed. I'm about done with hiding.

The elevator doors opened on the 12th floor and I was scooped up right into the arms of one Carlos Carmen. Not Flynn but the very next best thing to brighten my mood.

Carlos gives the best hugs and he always seems to know when I need one. He was waiting for me when the elevator doors opened and wrapped me in a bear hug that squeezed the sadness right out of me. Well, most of it anyway. But I'm a big girl and I refuse to cry in public.

Carlos is a mix of Mexican and German. That makes him the very definition of tall, dark and handsome with his salted grey and black hair and chocolate eyes. He has deep laugh lines and a dark tan from spending hours outside in the Texas sun. I barely come to the bottom of his chin even with heals on. Best of all, he always smells like sunshine, good cologne, and happiness.

"Good to see you, Junior," Carlos whispered. Then he kissed me on my forehead. "You look much better than the last time I saw you. How's the head?"

"Doing much better. Thank you for the resort time. I needed it more than I thought," I said. Carlos had insisted I recover at one of the tropical medical spas he is part owner of.

He gently moved my hair from the side of my face so he could see my scar, "Looks like that will heal up nicely."

"Yes, it's amazing what some sun, sand and a great plastic surgeon can do. Thank you again. Some days I don't know what I would do without you." I kissed him on his cheek then rubbed the lipstick smear off with my thumb.

Carlos lifted my chin with his finger, "I know that look. Rough morning?"

"Just missing an old friend," I said.

He studied me for a moment then nodded, "Come to my office." He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall. "You can tell me all about your trip. Then I can tell you all the stuff that's happened while you were away. Luanna tried to drag me to Bunco night. I had to fake an emergency to get out of it."

That made me laugh out loud. Carlos loves his wife, but he would have burnt down a building to avoid the room full of gossiping ladies that is Bunco night.

I can't believe it. My father is having one of his flings right here at the office. I mean, I can see the appeal. She isn't some made up bimbo like I expected. She's more the girl next door type. She was probably a cheerleader in high school. Blonde hair, tanned skin, big smile.

She did have nice legs. I bet she still works out religiously. Probably has one of those buffed out trainers giving her special attention. That's how they do it. Keep in shape and flirt until they can land a rich old guy to take care of them. She should have spent more time with the books than with cheerleading because she obviously didn't know how to pick a winner.

If she was looking to score a rich husband, she was barking up the wrong tree. Dear old dad might be a womanizer and a crook but he would never risk getting a divorce. Not even for a nice set of legs like those.

The smart thing for me to do would be to forget about it and head back to my office. After all, it's not my problem. Then again, dad never accused me of being smart. He needs to know that he isn't fooling anyone.

Once I have a word with dad and get his flavor of the month to leave, I'll see if Dale was able to dig any information up on Junior or why my dad trusts him so much. After all, dear old dad put him in charge of the merger.

The plan is simple. All I need to do is convince my dad and Junior, whoever he is, that I'm ready to take over the family business, then I can head back to Atlanta and never see him again. Well, except for the occasional board meeting. But I can send my right-hand man, Dale, to those.

What was it he said? "There are too many lives depending on this merger going smoothly. If Junior doesn't sign off on it, it's not going to happen." Like I'm the bad guy. What does he think I'm going to do? Fire everyone and burn the building down?

If anything, I'm the hero here. From what mom has said, he should have retired a few years ago. He's just too stubborn to sell the business and retire. No, I have to put my life on hold to come work out this merger. Because, heaven forbid he just sell the damn thing to me.

He's always been selfish and self-centered. It's always been about what he wanted. Then, poor mom, always making excuses for him. He had a meeting. Something came up. Come to find out, the guy who preached at me constantly about being better was cheating on his wife and pulling off shady business deals. Mom never had a clue.

Like now. She is home driving everyone around her crazy with a welcome home party for me. A party I really don't want, but it will make her happy. And he is here "working". Working on the "Blonde of the month". Well, not while I'm around.

"I think this retirement is a good thing. You really do need to start taking better care of yourself." The blonde's voice carried out into the hallway stopping me from opening the door.

"I know." My dad said, "I just don't know if he is ready. I could give it all to you. Then it wouldn't be a problem." He sounded almost hopeful, that bastard.

The blonde giggled, "Not on your life. You know why I can't take over."

"I think you're wrong. We could get Father O'Leary on it. If anyone could figure out a way, he can."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Is he really looking at giving this gold digger the company? And who is Father O'Leary? Is he trying to marry this woman to convince her? That's it! This stops now.

I pushed opened the door to catch them in, well, I'm not sure. Actually, I don't need that kind of mental picture. Thank you very much.

Instead, she is leaning against Dad's desk. Ankles crossed. Suit jacket open like she already runs the place. Not if I can help it.

"Joshua, I would like you to meet," It's just like the old man to act like nothing is happening so I cut him off.

"I'm not interested in meeting your special friend, Dad. I want to talk about the merger. So, if you will excuse us." I give her my best 'I think you should leave' glare. Maybe she will get the hint.

Instead, it was my father heading for the door, "Great! Right down to business it is." Dad patted me on the shoulder as he headed for the door. "I have to get home. Your mom might be going a little overboard. Unless you want fireworks?"

"No, I don't want fireworks, but," I growled. Where is he going?

Dad turned around as he opened the door and grinned at the tall blonde behind me, "Don't work too late, Junior. Party starts at 7."

With that he closed the door and started whistling as he walked down the hall.

Great. Junior is dad's mistress. Even better, she gets to decide to give me the company or keep it for herself. Until then, I have to play their stupid games. Perfect.

Even if I hadn't seen pictures of Joshua, I would have known it was him the moment he stormed into Carlos's office. He looks exactly like Carlos. Well, a younger, angrier version of him. Carlos wasn't kidding when he said the guy had a chip on his shoulder. From where I'm standing it looked like a pretty big one.

Carlos is the closest thing to a father I ever had and we've worked together a lot over the last few years, so I know his shenanigans. That was classic Carlos. I would bet a dozen of Mama Bella's famous chocolate chunk cookies that he knew Joshua would have his panties in a bunch this morning and somehow used me to twist them a little tighter. Which should have pissed me off, but I couldn't help but grin. The man had a knack for stirring the pot without getting dirty.

It usually takes people a couple beats to register that Junior is, in fact, a girl. I think Carlos and Mac actually get a good laugh out of it. Personally, I found it annoying at first but it gives me a few seconds to size up who I'm dealing with.

Joshua was definitely the spitting image of his father. Tall, dark hair, broad shouldered. Anger had every muscle in his body tense. Ready to pounce. Like a tiger ready to go in for the kill. His brown eyes were sharp. Assessing. I could feel them slowly touching every inch of my body.

By the time his eyes met mine, I could tell he had pulled it together. He had a game plan. The butterflies I'm feeling are all part of the game. Challenge accepted. He is definitely a player out to win. Trouble is he didn't have a clue what game he is getting into and it is my job to decide if he could handle seeing all the cards.

This assignment is not going to be the relaxing change I was hoping for after all.

It's not that he can intimidate me. I use to put away murderers and rapists. I can handle some spoiled rich kid who thinks the world owes him. The problem is that CJ Carmen isn't exactly 100% legit.

Sure, most of it is what you see. Carlos owns apartments, commercial property, supply, and cleaning services among other things. Legit businesses. Just some hide a secret or two. Like the armory vault in the basement of this building. A few safe houses here and there. A couple of his business holdings act as fronts for other, well, we'll call them gray area endeavors.

It's all done for the good guys, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, Carlos made the decision a long time ago not to tell Joshua about any of it. He says he did it for his safety, but I think there is more to the story. Either way, that plan has backfired now that Carlos has to step down.

I was all ready to come in here and push this through. After all the guy looked pretty good on paper. Now I'm not so sure. But if it doesn't work out and I have to implement plan B, then Carlos might lose the only shot he has at getting his son back. Which would devastate him. Not that he would admit it, the stubborn ass.

What I wouldn't do for a nice simple murder right about now. Let the games begin.

"You must be Joshua." I said in my sweetest voice. "It's nice to finally meet you. Your father has told me a lot about you."

"And exactly how long have you known my father?" The cocky sneer of his voice is a nice touch. Wonder if they teach that at the fancy school he went to.

"Oh, I've worked with Carlos off and on for about four years now. He's really glad that you agreed to the merger. He's always wanted you to take over the business. Not that you can tell by his abrupt exit." I said light hearted and casual. It's a move that drives this alpha types nuts.

"Is he? Did he tell you that?" He growled.

Struck a nerve, I see.

"Actually, he did. Last year when he first floated the idea of the merger. The timing wasn't right though." Which was true. Joshua had been in the news for some legal matters and Archangel was in the middle of tying up a two-year operation that needed to stay under the radar.

"So, you spend a lot of time with dear old dad?"

"When I can. We are very busy people." I shrugged.

"I bet." Another sneer. This guy really did have a chip on his shoulder when it came to Carlos.

"Well, I assume you are busy yourself. Afterall, it's been six, seven years. Or is it eight since you've been home." Ok, that came out a little judgy but Carlos is my friend.

"You know nothing about me." Joshua closed the space between us effectively pinning me to the edge of Carlos's desk. The warmth of his body belied the cold in his eyes.

"I know that whatever grudge you are holding against your father needs to be cleared if you ever have a hope of a relationship with him." I gripped the edge of the desk to steady myself. No turning back now. My loyalty was with Carlos.

"It seems you know a lot about relationships with my father."

"Joshua, I'm not sure what you think my relationship to your father is, but"

"The way I see it, your relationship with my father is none of my business. All that matters is how well we get along." His eyes lingered on the bit of cleavage showing at the top of my shirt making my nipples turn to hard pebbles. I did my best to control the urge to lean into his heat.

"Yes, we will be working together. Getting along would help." I cleared my throat and licked my lips. "Professionally, of course."

"Of course." The words were barely a whisper in my ear. I could feel his breath on my cheek. His neck was so close. I could easily turn and lick the pulse point below his jaw to see if his heartbeat would react to my touch.

He stepped back breaking the spell. I took it as my chance to make a quick exit.

"Speaking of professionally, I haven't had a chance to get organized. Carlos said I could use the small meeting room to set up in. It's set up for teleconferencing. So, if you will excuse me." I darted around him and headed for the door.

Once inside the safety of the conference room, I leaned against the door hoping the cool wood would help me get a grip. "Wow, ok, what was that?"