Page 26 of Guarded from Treachery

“So you’ll have Erik tonight and Rhi on Friday,” Dante says as he looks in my direction. “Do you need anything else? More security gear? Weapons?”

“I grabbed a lot when I was on my way here. So the apartment is pretty well set with alarms and security cameras. And I have my laptop, my Sig… Maybe you could bring my backup laptop. And an extra monitor.”

Erik lifts his chin. “Can do.” After a beat, he asks, “So you think someone’s hacking into her security system?”

My response is immediate. “I do. Isla did the right thing, setting up a doorbell camera and a secondary one on the porch above her front door. But the cameras are only hooked up to basic Wi-Fi; it would be easy enough for someone with decent skills to bypass it.”

In the lull of conversation, I hear a soft rustling coming from Isla’s bedroom. A quick look shows her stirring in bed, and a second later, she sits up and grabs her phone off the nightstand to look at it.

“She’s up,” I report quietly. “I’m going to try to get her to eat something.”

“Sounds good.” Dante’s gaze moves from one teammate to the next, finally landing on me. “Call if you need anything. Okay?”

“I will. Thanks.” Just as I’m about to end the video call, another thought strikes me. “Hey, Niall.”

His eyebrows arch up in question. “What’s up?”

“Can you ask Jade what’s good for a pregnant woman to eat? I want to make sure I’m not cooking something that’s bad for Isla or the baby.”

Just the mention of his pregnant wife brings a smile to Niall’s face. “Of course. I’ll ask her to text you. But I know some stuff that they’re not supposed to eat. Soft cheeses, like mozzarella and ricotta. Most fish. Anything unpasteurized. And not too much sugar. There are more things, but I can’t remember.”

Oh. “Um. Okay.”

“It’s not that bad,” Niall adds. “But I’ll have Jade send you some of her favorite recipes.”

But once the call ends, I’m left wondering. And feeling more than a little nervous.

Running ops in Afghanistan, facing off against insurgents that outnumber us ten to one? I can do that without losing a beat. Running covert surveillance in the middle of enemy territory, when one wrong move could end in our discovery? That, I can handle.

But this is different. Isla’s different.

And she’s pregnant. Not that you could tell she is, so I assume she’s not too far along. Still, she needs more than just someone to protect her. She needs someone to make sure she’s eating alright. That she’s not too stressed. To make sure she’s seeing a doctor when she needs to and shit—I don’t know. Lots of stuff a typical client wouldn’t need.

Yes, I know Isla’s a grown adult. Thirty-three is what she told me the first day we met. Under normal circumstances, I’m sure she’d be perfectly capable of handling everything herself. But this isn’t normal. And Iwantto help. I’m just not sure how good of a job I’ll do.

“Matt?”

As I startle—some Special Forces operator I am, not even noticing when my client comes into the room—I almost knock over my bottle of water, snatching it up at the last second. “Shit. Sorry.”

Isla hovers in the entrance to the living room, her cheeks flushed from sleep, her hair in tangled waves falling over her shoulders and down her back. She gives me a tentative smile and asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Definitely. Sorry. I didn’t mean… I just didn’t hear… Are you okay? Did you sleep alright? Do you need anything?”

She takesa few steps towards me, and I’d have to be literally blind not to notice how her shorts show off her toned legs and the way her oversized shirt slips down over one slender shoulder. “I’m fine. Actually, I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten some sleep. And I was just thinking about making something to eat. I’m a little low on groceries, but?—”

I jump up from my seat. “I can make something. You should relax. Get some rest on the couch. Watch something on TV. Just… you know. Take it easy. While I cook lunch. I was talking to Niall, he’s one of my teammates, and his wife is pregnant. So he was telling me foods that aren’t healthy to eat. Soft cheeses. Fish. So I’m not sure what to make, but I’ll look it up.”

What is wrong with me? Why am I babbling like I’ve never spoken to a woman before?

Isla stares at me for a few seconds. Then her lips twitch.

“Shi—shoot.” My ears warm. “Sorry. That was a lot of words. A more concise way of saying that should have been, I can cook lunch while you rest. Would that be okay?”

“Matt.” She smiles. “I knew what you meant. But I don’t think I need any more rest for now.” Pausing, her eyes crinkle around the corners as she adds, “Maybe we can figure out something to cook together?”

A weight on my chest lifts. “That sounds like a great idea.”

Ten minutes later, we’re side by side in the kitchen, Isla making up chicken salad for sandwiches while I slice carrots and celery to go on the side. Her movements are quick and natural as she mixes together ingredients I would never have thought of—dill and basil and Greek yogurt and a squeeze of lemon.

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