Beg For Me by Sierra Cartwright

Chapter One

“No fucking way, Hawkeye.” In case that wasn’t clear enough, Jacob Walker tipped back the brim of his cowboy hat and leveled a stare at his friend and former commander across the small, rickety table that separated them.

The stench of cheap whiskey and loneliness hung in the air—as putrid as it was familiar.

Through the years, they’d held dozens of meetings at this kind of place. Didn’t matter which fucked-up hellhole they were in—Central America, the Middle East, Texas, or here, a small, all but forgotten Colorado mountain town, a place with no security cameras, where neither of them were known.

As usual, Hawkeye dressed to blend in with the locals—jeans, scuffed boots, and a heavyweight canvas jacket that could be found on almost every ranch in the state. He’d added a baseball cap with a logo of a tractor company embroidered on the front. Today, he also wore a beard. No doubt it would be gone within an hour of his walking back outside into the crisp, clean air.

At one time, Jacob thrived on clandestine meetings. The anticipation alone was enough to feed adrenaline into his veins, and he lived for the vicarious thrill.

But life was different now.

After a final, fateful job in Colombia that left an American businessman’s daughter dead, Jacob walked away from Hawkeye Security.

He returned to the family ranch and a world he no longer recognized. His grandfather had died, no doubt from the stress of managing the holdings by himself. Though Jacob’s grandmother never uttered a critical word, he knew she was disappointed that he’d missed the funeral. He wasn’t even in the same country when he was needed the most.

When she passed, he stood alone at the graveside, the only family mourner, like she’d no doubt been a few years before.

Spurred by equal measures of guilt and regret, he poured himself into managing the family’s holdings as a way to redeem himself. Then, because of his loneliness and the horrible dreams after Colombia, he did it as a way to save himself.

“The op will take less than a month.” Hawkeye shrugged. “Give or take. I’ll give you three of our best agents—Johnson, Laurents, Mansfield. You can man the gate, rather than just utilizing the speaker box. Another on perimeter. One for relief. You have the space and a bunkhouse.”

Jacob shook his head to clear it of the ever-present memories. “Is there a part of my refusal that you don’t understand?” Of course there was. When Hawkeye wanted something, nothing would dissuade him. That willful determination had made him a force on the battlefield as well as in the business arena. “When I quit, I meant it.” He took a swig from his longneck beer bottle. “No regrets.” The words were mostly true. There were times he wanted the camaraderie and wanted to flex his brain as well as his muscles. There was also the sweet thrill of the hunt. And making things right in the world.

Rather than argue, Hawkeye removed his cap long enough for Jacob to get a look at his former boss. Worry lines were trenched between his eyebrows. In all his years, Jacob had never seen dark despair in those eyes. “Yesterday, Inamorata received what appeared to be a birthday card from her sister.”

Ms. Inamorata was Hawkeye’s right-hand woman and known for her ability to remain calm under duress. She could be counted on to deal with local and federal authorities, smoothing over all the details. Rather seriously, Hawkeye said she batted cleanup better than any major leaguer.

Jacob told himself to stand up, thank Hawkeye for the drink, then get the hell out of here while he still could. Instead, he remained where he was.

“There was a white powder inside.”

Jesus.“Anthrax?”

“Being tested. She took appropriate precautions and received immediate medical assistance. Antibiotics were prescribed as a precaution.” Hawkeye paused. “There were no warning signs that the piece of mail was suspicious.”

Meaning the postmark matched the return address. The postage amount was correct, and there was nothing protruding from the envelope.

Jacob knew Inamorata and liked her as much as he respected her. He took offense at a threat to her life. “Received at headquarters?”

“No. At her home. So whoever sent it has access to information about her and how to circumvent our protocols.”

Slowly he nodded. “Any message?”

“Yeah.” Hawkeye paused. “Threats to take out people I care about, one at a time.”

“The fuck?” Instead of sympathizing, Jacob switched to ops mode. He didn’t do it on purpose—it was as immediate as it was instinctive. No doubt Hawkeye had counted on Jacob’s reaction. “Anything else?”

“There was no specific request. No signature.” Hawkeye paused. “I’ve got profilers taking a look at it. But there’s not much to go on. Tech is analyzing writing and sentence structure, tracking down places the card could have come from. FBI has the powder at its lab. Profilers are trying to ascertain the type of person most likely to behave this way.”

All the right things.

“But we don’t have the resources to take care of our clients and have eyes on everyone who’s a potential target.”

At this point, there was no way to know how serious the threat was. A card was one thing, a physical attack was another.

“I don’t give a fuck who comes for me.”

Over the years, their line of work—cleaning up situations to keep secrets safe, protecting people and precious objects, even acting as paramilitary support operators overseas—had created a long list of enemies.

“But I can’t risk the people I care about.” Hawkeye reached into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a picture. “I need you to take care of her.”

“Oh fuck no, man.” Jacob could be a sounding board, analyze data, but he didn’t have the time to return to babysitting services.

Undeterred, Hawkeye continued. “Her name’s Elissa. Elissa Conroy. Twenty-eight. My plan was to have Agent Fagen move in with her and accompany her to work.”

Makes logical sense.“And?”

“She refused. Then I decided I’d prefer for her to be away from Denver, out of her normal routine in case anyone has been watching.” After a moment’s hesitation, Hawkeye slid the snapshot onto the table, facedown.

Hawkeye knew every one of Jacob’s weaknesses. If he glanced at Elissa’s face, the job would become personal. She wouldn’t be a random woman he could ignore.

Jacob looked across the expanse of the room, at the two men talking trash at the nearby pool table. Above them, a neon beer sign dangled from a tired-looking nail. The paint was peeling from the shabby wall, and the red glare from the light made the atmosphere all the more depressing.

“Her parents own a pub. Right now, she’s running it on their behalf while they’re back home in Ireland for a well-deserved vacation. Her father has just recovered from a bout with cancer, and they’re celebrating his recovery.”

Of course Hawkeye crafted a compelling narrative. He knew how to motivate people, be it through their heartstrings or sense of justice. At times, he’d stoke anger. His ability to get people to do what he wanted was his biggest strength as well as his greatest failing.

Never had his powers of persuasion been more on display than when he’d gotten his Army Ranger team out of Peru, despite the overwhelming odds.

From the beginning, the mission had been FUBAR—fucked up beyond all recognition. They sustained enough casualties to decimate even the strongest and bravest. Relentlessly Hawkeye had urged each soldier on. Despite his own injuries, Hawkeye had carried one man miles to the extraction point.

What happened immediately after that would haunt Hawkeye and Jacob to the end of their days, and it created a bond each would take to the grave.

“You’ve had some time on the ranch. I assume you’re a hundred percent?”

Physically, yes. But part of him would always be in that South American jungle, trying to figure out what had gone so horribly fucking wrong.

Hawkeye nudged the photograph a little closer to Jacob.

“Who is she to you?”

Hawkeye hesitated long enough to capture Jacob’s interest.

“Someone I used to know.”

Jacob studied his friend intently. “Used to?”

Hawkeye shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Right after we got back from Peru.” He stared at the photo. “She helped me through the rough patch.”

Tension made Hawkeye’s voice rough, and he cleared his throat.

“Shit.” Jacob cursed himself for not walking out the moment Hawkeye asked for help. “It—whatever it was between you—is in the past?”

“Yeah. She’s a smart woman, recognized damaged goods and was astute enough not to follow when I walked away.” He shrugged. “To tell the truth, she’s too damn good for me. We both knew it.”

“It’s over?”

“There never was anything significant. She’s a friend. Nothing more. But if anyone’s intent on hurting me…” With great deliberation, Hawkeye flipped over the picture.

Jacob couldn’t help himself. He looked.

The woman was breathtaking. She was seated on a white-painted carousel horse, arms wrapped around its shiny brass pole. Dark, wavy hair teased her shoulders. But it was her eyes that stopped him cold.

He was a practical man more accustomed to making life-and-death decisions than indulging in fanciful poetry, but that particular shade of blue made him think of the columbines that carpeted the ranch’s meadow each summer.

Her smile radiated a joy that he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced. Longing—hot and swift—ripped through him. Ruthlessly he shoved the unfamiliar emotion away. He was seated across from Hawkeye, discussing a job. Nothing more. If he accepted the assignment, it would be his responsibility to keep her safe and ensure she had plenty to smile about in the future.

“After this, Commander Walker, we’ll call it even.”

“Even from you, that’s a fucking cheap shot.” Jacob didn’t need the reminder of how much he owed Hawkeye. Nothing would ever be even after the way the man rescued Jacob’s mother from the inside of a Mexican jail cell.

Unable to stop himself, Jacob picked up the photo. Hawkeye’s gamble—his drive deep into the Colorado mountains—had paid off. Jacob couldn’t walk away. Elissa wasn’t a random client. She was a woman who’d shown compassion to Hawkeye, and that shouldn’t have put her at risk.

With a silent vow that he’d care for her until the shitstorm passed, Jacob tucked the picture inside his shirt pocket.

Hawkeye lifted his shot glass, then downed his whiskey in a single swallow.

* * *

“Sir? It’s closing time.”Elissa summoned a false, I’m-not-exhausted smile for the cowboy sitting alone at a table for two in her mom and dad’s Denver-area pub. The man had been there for hours, his back to the wall. From time to time, he’d glance at the baseball game on the television, but for the most part, he watched other customers coming and going. More than once, she was aware of his focused gaze on her as she worked.

When he arrived, he asked for a soda water with lime. Nothing stronger. Minutes before the kitchen closed, he ordered the pub’s famous fish and chips.

Throughout the evening, he hadn’t engaged with her attempts at conversation, and he paid his bill—in cash, with a generous tip—before last call.

Now he was the last remaining customer, and she wanted him to leave so she could lock up, head for home. She needed a long, hot bath, doused with a generous helping of her favorite lavender Epsom salts.

If she were lucky, she’d fall asleep quickly and manage a few hours of deep sleep before the alarm shrieked, dragging her out of bed. After all, she still had to run her own business while taking care of the bar.

Over the past few days, exhaustion had made her mentally plan a vacation, far away from Colorado. Maybe a remote tropical island where she could rest and bask in the sun. A swim-up bar would be nice, and so would a beachside massage beneath a palm tree.

But she was still stuck in reality. She had to complete the closing checklist, and that meant dispensing with the final, reluctant-to-leave guest.

With a forced half smile, she tried again. “Sir?”

The man tipped the brim of his cowboy hat, allowing her to get a good look at his face.

She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

He was gorgeous. Not just classically handsome, but drop-dead, movie star gorgeous.

His square jaw was shadowed with stubble, but that enhanced the sharpness of his features. And his eyes… They were bright green, reminding her of a malachite gemstone she’d seen in a tourist shop.

In a leisurely perusal, he swept his gaze up her body, starting with her sensible shoes, then moving up her thighs, taking in the curve of her hips, then the swell of her suddenly aching breasts.

When their gazes met, she was helplessly ensnared, riveted by his intensity.

The silence stretched, and she cleared her throat. She was usually a total professional, accustomed to dealing with loners, as well as groups out celebrating and being rowdy, or even the occasional customer in search of a therapist while drowning their sorrows. But this raw, physical man left her twitterpated, her pulse racing while her imagination soared on hungry, sexual wings.

Andrew, the barback, switched off some of the lights, jolting her. After shaking her head, she asserted herself. “It’s closing time, sir.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The cowboy stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the wooden floor. “I’ll be going, then.”

His voice was deep and rich, resonating through her. It invited trust even as it hinted at intimacy.

An involuntary spark of need raced up her spine.

Forcing herself to ignore it, she followed him to the exit. Instead of leaving, he paused.

They stood so close that she inhaled his scent, that of untamed open spaces. She tried to move away but was rooted to the spot. She was ensnared by his masculine force field—an intoxicating mixture of raw dominance and constrained power.

Desire lay like smoke in his eyes. In a response as old as time, pheromones stampeded through her. She ached to know him, to feel his strong arms wrap around her, to have his hips grinding against hers as he claimed her hard.

Dear God, what is wrong with me?

It had been too long since she’d been with a lover, but this cowboy was the type of man who’d turn her inside out if she let him. And she was too smart for that.

“Ma’am.” Finally he thumbed the brim of his hat in a casual, respectful farewell that made her wonder if she’d imagined what had just happened between them.

“Thanks for coming in.” Her response was automatic.

“I’ll see you soon.” Conviction as well as promise laced his words, and it shocked her how much she hoped he meant it.

After locking the door behind him, she stood in place for a few moments, watching him climb into his nondescript black pickup truck. It resembled a thousand others on the road, in stark contrast to its intense, unforgettable owner.

The barback tugged the chain to turn off the Open sign, reminding her of the chores still ahead of her.

It was past time to shove away thoughts of the stranger.

She checked her watch. A few minutes after one a.m.

It had been a long day. Another long day. With her parents still on vacation, the responsibility for running the pub had fallen to her. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but Mary, the nighttime manager, had called in sick. And Elissa’s freelance graphic project was due at the end of the week. Sleep had been in short supply for the past month.

Month?

Actually, it had been more than a year. Her father’s cancer diagnosis had upended her family’s world. The emotional turmoil had taken its toll as they all fought through the terrifying uncertainty and fear.

After his final chemotherapy treatment, her parents had departed for a much-needed break.

Andrew continued walking through the area, switching off the neon beer signs. “Everything’s done. Clean and ready for tomorrow.”

“Not sure how I would have managed without you.” For the first time ever, he’d ended up waiting on several customers, and he’d done a good job. “Why don’t you go ahead and leave?”

“I’ll wait until you’re done and walk you to your car.”

“That’s okay.” She shook her head. It had been busier than usual for a Tuesday, more like she’d expect closer to the weekend. “I still have to reconcile the cash register, and that will take some time. You worked your ass off this evening. Go see your girlfriend.”

“It’s our one-month date-iversary. I didn’t know that was a thing until this morning, and she warned me I better not screw it up.” Clearly besotted, he grinned. “I don’t mind staying, though, for a few more minutes.”

“Go.”

He glanced toward the rear exit. “If you’re sure…”

“It’s your date-iversary. Go.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand.

Grinning, she turned the deadbolt once he left.

After turning off the main dining room lights, Elissa retreated to the tiny management office. She sank into the old military-surplus style leather chair behind the metal desk. Determined to ignore the clock on the wall, she counted the cash, balanced the register, then ran the credit card settlement.

Once everything was done and the bank deposit was locked in the safe, she sighed, part in relief, part in satisfaction.

Finally.

As usual, she straightened the desktop and gave the office a final glance to be sure everything was where it needed to be.

Satisfied, she released her hair from its ponytail and fed her fingers through the strands to separate them, part of her ritual for ending the workday and easing into her off time.

Then she reached for her lightweight jacket. Even though it was summer, Colorado could still hold a chill after the sun set. Finally she slung her purse over her shoulder before plucking her keyring from a hook in the wall.

She let herself out the door, then secured the deadbolt behind her.

There were only a handful of vehicles in the parking lot, and she headed toward hers at a quick clip.

As she neared it, a figure detached itself from the adjoining building.

She struggled for calm, telling herself that the person wasn’t heading toward her. But as she broke into a jog, so did the figure.

Frantically she ran, hitting the remote control to unlock the car, praying she could make it to safety before the assailant reached her. As she grasped the door handle, he crowded behind her, pressing her against the side of the vehicle.

“Get away from me!”

When he didn’t, she screamed.

“Calm down.”

Fuck.She recognized his gruff voice. The cowboy. For a moment, she went still. But when he pressed her harder against the car, fear flared, and she instinctively fought back. “Get the hell off me!”

He was unyielding, and her strength was no match for his.

“Hawkeye sent me.”

Elissa froze. Hawkeye?

Of course he’d sent someone. She should have expected it when she refused to let him provide her with a bodyguard.

Years before, she’d met the wounded military man when he returned from an overseas mission. The first few times he’d come into the pub, he’d been quiet, drinking whiskey neat, staring at a wall while occasionally flinching.

They’d gone out a number of times, and she’d cared about him. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t connect with him on an emotional level. He kept more secrets than he shared. But the one thing she learned was that the need for revenge consumed his every waking thought. In the end, it had been impossible to have any kind of relationship with him.

When he informed her that he’d started Hawkeye Security, she wasn’t surprised. And when he came to say goodbye, she tearfully stroked his cheek while wishing him well.

She had been stunned when he called her to tell her she was at risk. Someone from his past threatened the people he cared about. Before hanging up, she dismissed his ridiculous concerns. Their halfhearted relationship was so far in the past that no one could possibly believe that she meant anything to Hawkeye.

“You’re going to need to come with me.”

“Oh hell no.” Her earlier attraction to the stranger had vanished, replaced by anger. She made her own choices and didn’t appreciate his heavy-handed tactics. “Tell Hawkeye I said both of you should fuck off. Or better yet, I will.”

“I’m not sure you understand.” His breath was warm and threatening next to her ear.

And now she understood why he’d spent so many hours at that table. He’d been studying her, planning the best way to bend her to his will.

But Elissa answered to no man.

“You’re in danger.”

“I can take care of myself. Now get off me, you…” What? “Oaf.”

“As soon as you give me your word that you’ll get in my truck without creating a fuss.”

Realizing physical resistance was futile, she allowed her body to go limp and concentrated on tamping down her adrenaline long enough to outwit him. She needed to think and escape his unbearable presence. “How about I’ll go home and stay there?”

“Not happening.”

“Look…” There was no way she would yield to this oversize, determined goon, even if he was pure masculine perfection. “I’ll agree to have one of his employees stay with me.”

“He made that offer. You turned it down.”

Damn you both.Why hadn’t she just agreed to Hawkeye’s suggestions?

“Let me be clear, Elissa…”

Despite herself, the way he said her name, gently curled around the sibilant sound, made her nerves tingle.

“He made it my job to protect you, and he signed off on my plan.”

“Care to fill me in?”

“Yeah. We’ll go to my ranch until he gives the all-clear.”

Unnerved, she shivered. “Ranch?” That was worse than she could have imagined, and fresh panic set in. “I demand to talk to Hawkeye this instant.”

“Demand all you want, little lady.”

She refused to leave town, the pub, and be somewhere remote for an indeterminate amount of time with the cowboy shadowing her twenty-four seven. “No. No.” She shook her head. “It’s impossible. I’m needed here. And Hawkeye knows it.” Struggling for breath, she pushed back against him. “We can work something out, I’m sure.”

“You can take it up with him.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Let me get my phone out of my purse.” And figure out how to get in my car and drive like hell.

“Not until we’re on the road.” He looped his massive hands around her much smaller wrists and drew them behind her.

“Ouch! Release me immediately!”

Though he didn’t hurt her, his grip was uncompromising. “As soon as you agree to get in my truck without struggling.”

“Look, Mr.—” God. I don’t know your name. And like the asshole he was, he didn’t fill in the missing information.

“We’re done talking.”

She stamped her foot on his instep, and he didn’t even grunt, frustrating the hell out of her.

“Please get in my truck, Elissa.”

Since he was immovable, she tried another approach, pleading with his better self. “I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Let me go home.” Elissa turned her head, trying to see him over her shoulder. Because of his hat and the darkness of the moonless and cloud-filled sky, his expression was unreadable. “You can follow me to my place.” The lie easily rolled off her tongue. Anything to get away.

“Within the next five seconds, you’ll be given two options, Ms. Conroy. One, you can come with me willingly.”

“And the other?”

“You can come with me unwillingly.”

“Option C. None of the above.” With all her might, she shoved back, but he tightened his grip to the point of hurting her.

As if on cue, a big black truck—his, no doubt—pulled into view. Since he didn’t react, it obviously meant Hawkeye had sent more than one person to deal with her. “This is absurd.”

The vehicle, with no lights on, pulled to a stop nearby.

“I’ll need your keys, Ms. Conroy.”

She shook her head in defiance.

“Always going to do things the hard way?”

Since he was still holding her wrists, it was ridiculously easy for him to pry apart her fingers and take the fob from her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoying as hell?”

A woman slid from the cab of the still-running pickup and left the driver’s side door open a crack. A gentle chime echoed around them, while light spilled from the interior, allowing Elissa to make out a few of the new arrival’s features.

Dressed all in black, she was about the same height and build as Elissa. She even had long dark hair.

“Perimeter is still clear.” Then in a cheery voice, she went on. “I see you haven’t lost your way with the ladies, Commander.”

He growled, all alpha male and frustration. “You’re here to help, Fagan.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The cowboy eased his hold a little.

“Sorry for the caveman’s actions, ma’am. I’m Agent Kayla Fagan. And I’m afraid Commander Walker needs a remedial training class in diplomacy.”

Walker. First name? Or last?“Diplomacy? Is that what you call an abduction?”

He remained implacable. “I have my orders, and Ms. Conroy wasn’t interested in talking.”

Bastard.“His behavior needs to be reported to Hawkeye.”

“I’ll let you do that yourself,” Kayla replied. “But honestly, I’d like to listen in.”

“Get out of here, Fagan.” He kept his body against hers while somehow managing to toss her keys to Kayla.

“Wait! You look so much like me you could be my double.”

“That’s the plan. Fagan will make it appear as if you’re following your normal routine this evening while we get away. When we’re on the road, you can talk to Hawkeye and make a strategic plan for opening the bar.” Walker’s tone was uncompromising.

The infuriating men had planned out everything.

Kayla opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Time’s up, ma’am.”

“Could you be any more condescending?”

“As I said, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice.”

Determinedly Elissa set her chin. “I’m not going with you.”

In a move so calculated and fast that she had no time to react, he took her purse from her, then yanked her around to face him. As if he’d done it a million times, he swept her off her feet, then hauled her into the air.

The Neanderthal tossed her over his shoulder, and she landed against his rigid body with so much force that breath rushed out of her lungs, stunning her into silence.

“The hard way it is.”