Page 133 of Defenders of Jawhara

Trent knows he’s playing a dangerous game. He can’t deny his simmering attraction to Chloe. But when she finds out who he really is, will their romance go down in flames?

1

Trent Larson flopped into a chair at the Slade Security office and glanced at his brother, who was bent over a computer. Without looking up from the display, Travis asked, “How’d it go?”

“Better than I thought it would. I’ve got what could be a great way in.” He fingered the business card Chloe Baker had given him. “I met the receptionist and she’s perfect.”

His comment had Travis looking at him over the top of his laptop. “Perfect? As in…”

Trent shook his head. “Never mind. What’s next at your end?” He brushed imaginary sand off his board shorts and stretched his legs out. He’d come directly from the Guardians of the Earth corporate office still dressed as a typical surfer.

The Larson brothers had been with Slade Security for almost six years, and while they actually tried to catch as many waves as they could, that had become harder and harder as many of their jobs took them to landlocked locations where the closest thing they had to the ocean was time-restricted showers. And now, with Brock Wells, PJ Williams, and Keira Mantz working directly for Sheikh Kamal Mehalel El-Jawhara, Slade was spreading his people pretty thin these days, and everyone was multitasking.

Hitting the save button for the program he’d been working on, Travis leaned back and stretched. “Thought maybe I’d hit the bars near the boardwalk and see if I can catch any word on the street about who’s hiring. These Guardians of the Earth have to be getting muscle from somewhere, and it makes sense to try close to home first.”

Trent shook his head. “Could be overseas talent. With the money potentially coming from Bashiria, Slade thinks they’re digging up locals there for the attacks on the sheikh’s oil wells.”

"Maybe, but some of the sabotage is sophisticated. I’d put my money on former military.”

“Special ops?” Trent shifted in his chair. “I’d hate to think we know any of them. I don’t get why Slade doesn’t just go for some bad PR on these dudes—a few well-placed words in the right places and their funding would dry up in a week.”

Travis lifted one eyebrow. Trent knew that look. Travis had been born two minutes earlier than Trent, and while they were identical, at least on the outside, Travis was patient and a lot more laid back about things, while Trent was ready to climb the walls from the lack of action.

“The organization’s done a lot of good. Slade wants proof before acting—and to find out if it’s just one bad apple in the barrel—”

“Or a whole bunch of monkeys. Yeah, yeah, I heard the speech from Slade already.” He sat up. There were times he missed his SEAL days—you had your orders, you went, you fixed the problem, you got out. Of course, sometimes you shot up the wrong target, too, which was why Slade was insistent on confirmation before action.

Trent headed to the office fridge and pulled out a sparkling water. He tossed one to his brother and came back. “I’m set up as a surfer who’s looking to help. Shouldn’t be too hard to find out what’s what—the receptionist wants to learn how to surf, so she’s my in. If we can get intel on who is attempting to sabotage the pipeline, maybe we can stop the next attack before anyone else gets hurt.”

Travis shook his head. “Surf? Seriously? You know damn well Sheikh Kamal and his brother are more than ready for these attacks to end. In fact, Khalil is supposed to be back in the States in two months with his wife Shira, and I, for one, would love to have this taken care of by then. That’s what we get the big bucks for, after all.”

Finishing his drink, Trent tossed the bottle into the recycle bin. He wondered what Chloe would think of that—did she recycle everything? But he only asked, “Have you found replacements for the team remaining in Jawhara yet?”

Travis shook his head. “I’ve got feelers out with a couple of SEALs contemplating not renewing their contracts, and Brock still hasn’t gotten back to Slade with his vetted list. Meantime, it’s double duty for us. If you’re going to be giving surfing lessons, shouldn’t you make sure you still remember how to surf?”

Trent grinned and started for the door. “Guess that means I get to break out my board and make my cover solid. Later,dude. I’ve got to polish up my skills if I’m going to pass for the real thing. Then I’m going to see about a surprise dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, well, don’t blow it, or Slade will have your head.”

“Worry on, bro. I’m catching a wave.”

2

Chloe Baker glanced around the office. Coffee off—check. Alarm set—check. She couldn’t believe the Guardians had her locking this place and setting an alarm—what was there to steal, a few posters and a desk? But she had her orders, and she needed this job.

She’d been in San Diego for all of four weeks. The temp agency had placed her at Guardians of the Earth, and so far, it was an easy job. She wasn’t all that thrilled to be working for an environmental group—she’d been raised to associate “tree hugger” with “nut case”—but these people seemed to be doing good things.

Plus, she needed the money—San Diego was a lot more expensive than she’d thought it would be. However, it was also close to her dad’s nursing facility and his doctors, and the weather had been great, with cool mornings and sunny afternoons.

Locking the door, she shook the knob to test that the lock had caught and peered through the glass to confirm that the alarm was blinking red. She turned and just about collided with a broad chest. He caught her arms, and she looked up at surfer dude.

She recognized that crooked smile at once—he’d been in earlier this afternoon. Now, his shaggy, sun-streaked brown hair looked windblown, and the salty scent of the ocean clung to him. He’d changed from shorts and a T-shirt into jeans and a loose Hawaiian shirt, with large teal plants and flowers that made his blue eyes pop in his lean, tan face. Her pulse jumped a notch and she gulped down a breath. “Hey.”

Oh, that’s good—way to impress him with your wit.She grimaced.

He didn’t seem to notice. He set her on her feet, and his smile widened into an easy grin. “Chloe, lovely Chloe, what kind of food do you like to eat?”

She stared at him, glanced behind her, and back to him. “Uh—weren’t we meeting Saturday? At the cove?”

---