The other being that he genuinely enjoyed their company. They were more his brothers than his own brother. Clive never even knew he did the “spy stuff,” much less complained about it.
“I’m in private security now.” He went to the big floor to ceiling windows that showed a spectacular view of Dallas. In the distance, the lights from Reunion Tower blinked like a giant Christmas ornament.
“You work for Ian Taggart,” Michael said, walking up behind him. “I might be a SEAL, but we all know who Tag is. And we know he works for the Agency.”
Tag might work for them from time to time, but he always stayed true to himself. It was why Simon followed him. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was to answer to his own conscience always.
What had Shakespeare said? Every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own.
That summed up the utter shit a soldier went through. He was done being a good soldier, a good son, a good agent. Being good had gotten him nowhere.
“Well, I only work for Tag. How about you? I heard the Agency is sniffing around you.” Tag had told him. Michael was a SEAL and a highly decorated one at that. He was smart, and there was a darkness about him that spoke of deadly grace. He was the opposite of his sunny other half. J.T. was an open book, every emotion out there worn on his sleeve. Michael’s waters ran deep.
Simon was worried for his cousin. He was worried about what would happen if the Agency got their hooks in him.
J.T. frowned fiercely. “What the hell? You’re not joining the fucking Agency. My brother is not becoming some damn CIA agent. You’re supposed to get tired of playing soldier and come the hell home.”
Michael gritted his teeth. Simon was fairly certain this wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. “Big brother, keep your damn nose out of my business.”
Yes, that was what he needed to complete his evening. He needed a Malone brothers smack down. “You two keep it down or you can head back to Fort Worth. I’m not in the mood to play referee. Why the hell did you come all the way out here anyway?”
J.T. put his boots on the coffee table. “We wanted to see if you nabbed that nerd you were after. You were in Europe with her. We thought you might take the chance to make your move.”
He wished he’d never told his cousins about Chelsea. Too much Scotch. He should quit while he was ahead. “She’s not a nerd.”
Michael shrugged. “Hey, nerds can be hot.”
She wasn’t hot around him. She was cold as ice. Except every now and then he saw it in her eyes. He saw her longing. She wanted a Master and he wanted to take care of her.
“I work with her. Nothing more.” The bell chimed just in time to save him from a conversation he’d rather not have. “I’ll be right back.”
He’d ordered Chinese earlier—before his cousins had arrived. They were like locust. He would be lucky to get a noodle or two. He reached for his wallet as he opened the door.
Chelsea stood there, glancing nervously down the hallway. “Simon, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
He was dumbstruck. She avoided him like the plague and now she showed up on his doorstep looking like sin on two legs. She was wearing tight jeans and a V-neck sweater that showed off her breasts. “Why?”
She bit her bottom lip, sending his hormones into overdrive. “Because someone’s trying to kill me.”
He opened the door, letting her in and wondering if he’d ever let her leave again.
Simon, Chelsea, and the whole McKay-Taggart team returns August 19, 2014 with A View to a Thrill.
Author’s Note
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