Morgan's Hunter Read online

  “She’s grown since last week.”

  Sarah smiled. “Kids do, Hunter. It’s part of the deal. Kylee, keep the sand in the sandbox.”

  Mischief and mutiny gleamed in Kylee’s bright blue eyes and Hunter grinned. Little fingers curled around a sand-heaped shovel. “Look at the way she’s staring at us. She’s trying to decide if she’s going to listen or let it fly. What a piece of work.”

  “Don’t encourage her. We’re heading toward the terrible twos and sometimes they really are terrible.”

  Hunter frowned at the weary tone in Sarah’s voice. “Are you okay? Are your parents helping you out?”

  “I’m fine. She’s just testing a lot these days. She’s supposed to. She’s a toddler.”

  “I wanted to let you know I’m going out of town for about a month. I’ll be in the mountains and hard to reach. If Kylee’s giving you a rough time, I can try to get out of my assignment.”

  Sarah took Hunter’s big hand, pressed his palm to her cheek. “We’ll be all right. You have a life of your own.”

  He glanced away, staring as Kylee shoveled sand into her bucket. “I promised him I’d take care of you two.”

  She nuzzled his hand still against her skin. “Yes you did, and you do.” Sarah let out a long breath. “Hunter, we love you so much. You’re such an important part of our lives, but you can’t give yours up for us. Jake wouldn’t want that and neither do I. You put limits on yourself for us, and it has to stop.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Sarah.”

  “You were going to give up an assignment because Kylee’s favorite new word is ‘no.’” She gave him a hesitant smile. “I might piss you off by saying what I’m about to, but we probably should’ve discussed this awhile ago.”

  Hunter stared, already knowing he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say. “Well, go ahead then.”

  Sarah pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You put limits on yourself for Kylee and me as punishment for what happened in Afghanistan.”

  Hunter snapped his glasses back in place, turned away. He didn’t talk about Afghanistan. “You’re right. You are going to piss me off. What a bunch of bullshit.”

  She placed her fingers under his chin, pulling gently until he faced her. “Just hear me out. You can be mad for a whole month before you have to forgive me again. What I said is the truth. When was the last time you had a relationship?”

  “Is that what this is about? Sex? Don’t worry, Sarah, I have sex when I want to.”

  “No, this is not about sex. I didn’t ask you about your sex life. I believe my question was when was the last time you had a relationship. You know, where actual emotions were involved. You’ve cut yourself off from any deep feelings.”

  Embers of resentment burned his belly. Sarah sounded like the psychologist he’d been forced to see after he’d gotten back. “It’ll take me two months to forgive you if you don’t drop it. I have deep feelings. I love you and Kylee.”

  “I love you too, Hunter, but that’s not what I mean. You’re like my brother. I want you to be happy and you’re not. When will you stop punishing yourself for coming back?”

  More than finished with the conversation, Hunter started to stand, but Sarah placed her hand on his muscled shoulder.

  “You came back,” she said again. “But six of your men didn’t get the chance. They still aren’t going to come home even if you try to pay for it every day. Do you think they would want that? Jake would want you to live, Hunter, really live. They all would. I’ve watched you for almost two years, and you pull back as soon as you start to get too close. Stop punishing yourself for something that was never your fault in the first place. There, that’s it.”

  She kissed his cheek, smiled. “Even if you don’t forgive me for three months, I’ll be okay because I’ve needed to say that for a long time.”

  Hunter stared into her beautiful face, her genuinely kind eyes, and his anger vanished. Sarah had the best of intentions. He brushed her lips with a quick kiss. “There’s nothing to forgive because you didn’t say anything wrong.”

  “Good.” She grabbed a package of crackers from Kylee’s pink diaper bag. “Let’s go feed some ducks.”

  An hour later, Kylee nodded off. Her head rested on Hunter’s shoulder as he walked with Sarah to her car. “I guess feeding the ducks did her in.”

  “It usually does.”

  “Ethan’s going to check in with you while I’m gone, and my mom is two miles from your house. You have keys to my place. Don’t hesitate to use them. You know where I keep extra money. I’ll call you when I can.”

  Sarah glanced at him, grinning. “You sound like I did the first time I left Kylee with Hailey. We’re going to be fine. I’m a big girl. Will you do me a favor while you’re gone?”

  They stopped at her navy blue sedan. “Name it.”

  “Think about our conversation and try to enjoy yourself.” She unlocked the doors.

  “Unke Hunte,” Kylee said groggily when Hunter fastened her in her car seat. He brushed her nose with a kiss as her eyes drooped closed again.

  “I’ll be back soon, baby girl.” He shut Kylee’s door, gave it a testing wiggle. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Sarah hugged him, then eased away. “Yes. Go play in the woods. I’ll see you next month.” She got in the car, buckled her seatbelt, rolled down her window as she backed up.

  Leaning through the window, he gave her a final kiss. “Don’t let her grow too much.”

  “She’ll practically be a teenager by the time you get back. Bye, have fun.” Sarah drove off, tooting her horn.

  Guilt consumed him as he waved.

  CHAPTER 5

  MORGAN STOOD BY THE MARBLE countertop in her parents’ spacious kitchen. She added a spoonful of honey to her tea before joining them at the table in the sunny breakfast nook. The gentle breeze ruffled sheer white curtains, bringing the scent of roses from the gardens.

  “Good morning,” Morgan said. She smiled and snagged a piece of her mother’s whole grain toast—a daily habit begun twenty years before.

  “Morning, honey.” Ilene smiled back, winked. “Did you enjoy your jog?”

  “Absolutely. I need the runner’s high these days. Hi, Dad.”

  He glanced up from his newspaper. “Hello, Peanut. How are you?”

  “Not too bad. My schedule’s jammed full today, but with a little planning it’s doable. I’m picking up supplies for the trip next week.”

  “Ah, I’m glad you brought that up.” Her dad picked up his steaming mug of coffee, took a sip.

  Her mother slid him a glance. Something was up. “Oh yeah?”

  “I thought I should tell you I hired someone to accompany you on your trip to Montana.”

  Morgan’s light mood vanished, along with her smile as she sat in her chair with a heavy flop. “You did what?”

  Stanley set his cup down. “I hired someone to go with you to Montana.”

  “And what does that mean, exactly? Who did you hire?”

  “A bodyguard.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Morgan looked at her mother, hoping for female support. “Mom, what is he talking about?”

  The frown on her mother’s face told her she wasn’t going to get any. “I’ll admit I agree with your father on this one, Morgan. Neither of us is happy about your choice to continue with this assignment. You’re taking too many risks.”

  “I’m going to track animals like I’ve done for the last several years. I’m pretty sure that’s what you two paid for when I went to college. Every job has risks, Mom.”

  “You know what we’re talking about, young lady. If you insist on going, we won’t stop you. Our only condition is that you bring this man for protection.”

  Morgan took a deep breath, trying to find her patience. “I just don’t see why this is necessary. I know my team was murdered. I can’t think of much else, but I truly believe they surprised a poacher and the bastard killed them. Wi
th all the police combing the area, he has to be long gone.” But I’ll find him—somehow.

  Stanley folded his paper. “I don’t understand why you’re making this into such an issue. You can’t go into backcountry by yourself anyway. It’s unsafe and against Bureau policy.”

  “So I’m supposed to depend on some guy whose bicep is bigger than his brain to help me track and monitor the animals? That definitely sounds like a recipe for success.” Morgan let out a frustrated sigh. “If Dean hadn’t reassigned Jim and Dave so quickly, I could’ve taken them.”

  “I told him to. I wanted the three of you back in the field as soon as you were ready. I thought work would help. It’s done.” Her father tapped his finger on the table—a sure sign of irritation. “You said we would find a solution suitable for both of us. This is what I came up with. You’re going and you’ll be safe. That’s the way it will be.”

  Finality sounded in his voice. Morgan shrugged; pushing him too hard wouldn’t be a good idea if she wanted to keep the funding for the project in place. “Fine, you’re right. He better not screw anything up though.”

  “Nice attitude, darling.” Her mother eyed her while she spread strawberry preserves on a piece of toast.

  Morgan recognized the scolding disapproval and blew out another breath.

  “Morgan.” Her father took her hand. “This man was a highly decorated recon marine. He’s not some idiot off the street. Ethan says he’s the best on his payroll, and my research confirmed it. You’ll be well protected and he knows how to rough it. He was in Afghanistan for a year. Before that, he spent plenty of time in other volatile areas.”

  “Such as?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s classified information.”

  “Oh.” Morgan stared at her parents for several seconds. Her mother’s brows drew together in concern. Worry plagued her father’s eyes, and regret washed through her. The last two people she ever wanted to cause distress were her mom and dad, but she had to go, had to do this.

  She needed the answers to her friends’ deaths. Their blood was on her hands. Morgan could only blame herself for their murders. If she’d altered the groups, had gone to Yellowstone herself, the end result might’ve been different, but she’d let Ian talk her out of it. God, how she wished she’d changed the plans despite his objections.

  “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I don’t want you to worry. Thank you for thinking of my safety. I’m sure this guy will be handy to have around. What’s his name, anyway?”

  “Hunter Phillips,” Stanley said as he popped his multivitamin in his mouth, swallowing the capsule down with his daily glass of orange juice.

  “All right then, I should get to my errands. When does this Hunter Phillips arrive in D.C.?”

  “He’ll be in town this afternoon.” Stanley glanced at his watch. “I’ll meet him at the office before he heads over here.”

  “I’ll be back to introduce myself later.” And with a kiss for each of her parents, Morgan departed for the guest house she lived in.

  Dressed for the day in cropped skinny jeans and a pink spaghetti strap tank, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, applying clear gloss to her full lips. Her green eyes narrowed as she thought of the whole bodyguard situation. Hunter Phillips, huh? He was bound to be a pain in her ass.

  She would just make everything perfectly clear from the beginning. She had her own plans, her own agenda. Nothing mattered more than finding answers. As long as he didn’t get in her way, things would be fine.

  Her father was paying him, so in essence, she was boss. Her new bodyguard was probably used to taking orders anyway. She would just explain how it was going to be. Feeling better about the whole thing, Morgan glanced in the mirror, pressed her lips together and left to take care of her errands.

  Hunter arrived at the Bureau right on time. He walked up to the homely looking older woman sitting behind a receptionist desk, talking on the phone. A tight bun coiled against the top of her head. Eyeglasses, straight out of the sixties, rested on the perch of her nose, reminding him of the stern librarian that had scared him witless as a young boy.

  Her workspace epitomized office efficiency. Pencils with the Bureau’s insignia stood soldier straight in a glass holder, their points needle sharp. Papers were neatly stacked in color-coded files lined along the left edge of her blotter. The dark cherry wood had been polished within an inch of its life.

  When she replaced the receiver, she looked up, smiling warmly. “You must be Mr. Phillips.”

  “Call me Hunter.” He glanced at her name plate and smiled. “Helen.”

  “It sure is kind of you to fly all the way out here to help our little Morgan.”

  “I’m happy I could offer my services.”

  “Morgan’s a lucky young lady. You’re a handsome one, if you don’t mind me saying so. Remind me a lot of my Charlie, you do. He had a dimple in his chin and blue eyes too. He was skin and bone where you’re all muscle, but handsome just the same. We had forty wonderful years before cancer took him.”

  Hunter’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Can’t be sorry when we were blessed with forty years. Can I get you something to drink, Hunter?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll just see Mr. Taylor if he’s available.”

  “You go have a seat, and I’ll let him know you’re here.” She gave him a saucy wink.

  Charmed, Hunter grinned, winked back, watched her blush. He sat down, taking in the surroundings of the posh office suite. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he thought of an environmental agency. Plastic chairs and linoleum floors were more on par with what he’d envisioned; not plush carpet and leather furnishings.

  “Hunter, Mr. Taylor is ready.” Helen put a little extra sway in her hips as she walked him down the hall. He smiled again when they stopped outside the office. Giving a brisk knock, she opened the door, signaled for Hunter to follow.

  “Mr. Taylor, meet Mr. Hunter Phillips.”

  Stanley Taylor exuded power as he stood and stepped from behind his desk in a charcoal gray designer suit. Salt and pepper hair set off serious dark blue eyes. Helen left as Hunter walked forward, shaking Stanley’s outstretched hand.

  “Mr. Phillips, it’s good to meet you. Come, take a seat.”

  Hunter glanced around the classy office. Lush green plants sat on dark wood. Several plaques hung on one wall. A small marble-topped beverage station took up the right corner of the room.

  “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.” Hunter sat in the leather wing-back chair in front of Stanley’s desk. He zeroed in on an eight by ten picture in a silver frame. A dark haired beauty with green eyes and a smooth olive complexion smiled fully. If that was Morgan Taylor, Ethan would live after all.

  “That’s my Morgan, Mr. Phillips. I trust Ethan has filled you in on the situation.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off the face in the frame. “Yes. Although I wouldn’t mind going over everything again—and please, call me Hunter.”

  Stanley nodded. “Two weeks ago, three members of my daughter’s wildlife research team were found shot. There are no leads and no witnesses. They were out in the middle of nowhere. It doesn’t make sense. We aren’t sure what the hell happened. All I know is three talented young people are dead.”

  “Do you believe the team was targeted, that Morgan will be a target when we get to Montana?”

  “Honestly, I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so. From what little the police have been able to gather, we can only assume they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever the case, I won’t be taking chances with my daughter. That’s why you’re here. Ethan tells me you’re the best, and I feel confident with his endorsement.”

  “With all due respect, sir, if you’re this concerned for her safety, why don’t you put a stop to the assignment and send her somewhere else?”

  “Do you think I haven’t tried? She’ll go anyway. Morgan is damn st
ubborn when she sets her mind to something. She’s determined she’s going to do this. You try to stand in her way and she gets goddamn nasty.”

  “Aren’t you the boss?”

  This time Stanley let out a full-throated laugh. “Oh, Hunter Phillips, you’re in for quite a surprise. No one is Morgan’s boss but Morgan. She has a mind of her own—has since the day she was born. She’s a love and as sweet as they make ‘em, but once you cross her—” Stanley winced. “Well, you better protect your balls, son.”

  He took a sip of water before he continued. “I guess this is a good time for me to tell you I sprang all of this on Morgan at breakfast this morning, and she isn’t exactly happy you’ll be joining her on the assignment, but she’ll go along with it because she knows the line has been drawn in the sand. She just needs a few days to adjust. Morgan is fiercely independent; what you might call…spirited. Overall, though, I think you’ll get along quite nicely.”

  Hunter doubted it. “I’m sure it’ll be memorable, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Oh, yes, I imagine so. Why don’t you go on over to the house, meet Morgan and Ilene, get yourself settled in.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” He stood.

  “Thank you again, Hunter.”

  “I’m glad I could offer my expertise, Mr. Taylor.” He shook Stanley’s hand.

  “Call me Stanley. Oh, I almost forgot. We’re having a fundraising event tonight—black tie. I hope you’ll join us.”

  “Great, just fucking great.” Hunter stabbed the button for the garage as he stepped into the elevator. He jammed his hands into his pockets, cursing fate. Was it too much to ask for an assignment that didn’t involve a high maintenance, self-important Hollywood-type?

  What happened to the business tycoons and diplomats who needed protection overseas, or a good high-stakes government function that required his security clearance and reconnaissance expertise?

  Instead of enjoying a low-key duty with the added perks of backwoods hiking and camping, he’d signed up for thirty days of princess sitting—worse, at a time when his patience for pampered purebreds was at an all-time low.