Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) (5 page)

As they climbed out of the truck, Corey approached Brody with
a scowl on his face. “If you think this is going to get you into her pants,
think again.”

Rounding the back of the truck, Boomer raised his eyebrows,
giving his teammate a silent
what the fuck?
But he didn’t interfere.
Brody crossed his arms over his massive chest and scowled back at the man who
was glaring daggers at him. “Seriously? You think that’s why I’m doing this? I
would think you'd be glad she’s going to be better protected.”

Corey mirrored his stance. “Fine. But I’m paying for the
system. You can show me how it works when you’re done. I don’t want Fancy
worrying about a thing. After that, leave her the hell alone.”

“
Huh
?” The guy was starting to get on his nerves, so
Brody decided to change tactics. “So you’re married to her sister?”

“What? Who the fuck told you that? Fancy doesn’t have any
sisters. She was married to my brother.” It was at that moment, Brody realized
he hadn’t known the man’s last name. “He was killed in a car accident a few
years ago, and she ended up in a coma for weeks. So excuse me if I’m a little
over-protective of her. I’m the only family she’s got around here.”

Brody noticed the slight shake of his teammate’s head, and he
knew he had to put this pissing match to rest. “Look, man. I like her. She’s
really nice. I met her through a friend who hired her for a wedding. But I’m
not some asshole who would expect sex in return for helping her stay safe. I
understand where you’re coming from, and the last thing I would ever do is hurt
her. That’s not the kind of guy I am. Let me just do this for her so we’ll all
know she’s safe, all right?”

After a long pause, Corey nodded and held out his hand.
“Truce?”

“Truce.”

For the first time since they got there, the fireman
acknowledged Boomer. “Hey, sorry about that. Corey Maguire.” He extended a
hand.

“Ben Michaelson, but everyone calls me Boomer. And no
worries. I’d do the same.”

As the two shook hands, Brody dropped the tailgate of his
truck bed and started sorting through the multiple boxes they’d brought. With
Maguire’s help, they had everything inside within a few minutes. With the
plywood covering the window, the table area on the right of the store was
darker than the rest of the shop, so Fancy had turned the light dimmer on high
for them. After making sure his sister-in-law didn’t need anything, Maguire
left, promising to come back later to see how the new system worked since he
had the spare keys to the place.

By the time noon came around, Boomer and Brody had the camera
system up and running, as well as new security locks and alarms on both the
front and back doors. All they needed to do was wire the new window which was
currently being put in place. Fancy’s insurance company had sent an adjustor
out right away since the only damage was the broken window. As soon as the man
had taken his pictures, Brody had gotten Parker’s glass company on the phone.
As a favor to Brody, Parker had asked the owner to put them at the top of the
repair list.

The teammates were packing up their tools and things they
were done with when Fancy walked over with two large bottles of water. “Here,
you two look like you could use these.”

While the air conditioning had been blasting earlier due to
the 103-degree temperatures soaring outside, it had done no good with the hot
air coming through the empty window frame, which had just been filled. Brody
grinned at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes, she fought a smile and lost. “Does that
fake accent actually work on women?”

When Boomer barked out a laugh, Brody smacked him hard in the
gut causing him to cough and gasp for air instead. He winked at Fancy. “It’s
not fake, darlin’. I was born and bred right outside Dallas. I just learned to
hide it in the Navy. But when I’m relaxed it tends to come out a little
stronger.”

She cocked her head to the side, and her eyes narrowed in
confusion. “Why would you have to hide it?”

“I was a Navy SEAL, and we had to go into places where having
a southern accent stuck out like a sore thumb. The only thing worse was my buddy
Marco’s New York accent.”

Swallowing some water, Boomer nodded his head. “Yup. It’s the
Yankee meets the hick when those two get going. And if you think hiding his
accent was bad, you should see him with his hair dyed. Most of the countries we
went into didn’t have people with blond hair.”

“So you were both SEALs?”

Widening his stance, Brody got comfortable and tried to hide
his satisfaction at her sudden curiosity.
Three questions in under two
minutes?
Wow, that was a record for her with him over the past two weeks.
Usually it was him asking questions, trying to get to know her better, and
Jamie jumping in to answer when Fancy wouldn’t.

As Boomer explained the little he could about their careers
on SEAL Team Four, Brody thought back to what Maguire had said earlier.
Actually, it had been on his mind ever since he’d learned she was a widow. He
guessed she was about thirty, which would have made her twenty-seven or so when
she lost her husband—way too young to have to go through such a horror.
How
long had they been married?
His gaze roamed her face and then her body. She
had no noticeable scars or disabilities from the accident and subsequent coma.
How
long had it taken her to recover?

Sometime in the past few hours, his feelings toward her had
changed. They had gotten stronger, and she was no longer just some woman who
was a potential conquest. She was bringing out the inner Dom in him. He was one
who could switch it off now and then. He had dated plenty of “vanilla” women,
some who enjoyed a few D/s things he introduced them to, and others who he knew
it was a line they wouldn’t cross.
What category did Fancy fall into?
While he didn’t mind dabbling in the vanilla world every once in a while, he
did know any long term relationship would need a D/s dynamic for him—at least
in the bedroom.

The bell over the front door jingled, and he glanced over his
shoulder to see the glass guy stride in with a clipboard in hand. He had Fancy
sign off on the work order so he could submit it to the insurance company, and
then gave her a copy of the receipt.

Brody was about to start grabbing what they needed to alarm
the window when a hand on his forearm stopped him. His eyes traveled up the
feminine arm, to the shoulder, neck, face, and then eyes of the woman who had
been invading all his dreams lately. The contact sent a tingling through him,
and he fought the urge to shiver. Damn, he couldn’t remember a single time a
woman’s non-sexual touch had made him want to pin her to a wall and do wild,
nasty things to her.

Fancy’s brown eyes stared back at him, and when her eyebrows
shot up, he realized she was waiting for an answer. And God help him, he had no
idea what the question was. He gave his head a slight shake. “I’m sorry. Zoned
out there for a second. What did you say?”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, and for a
brief moment, he knew he was seeing the real woman behind the multiple masks
she had used to keep him at a distance. “I asked what I can get you both to eat
for lunch. I’m sending Jamie across the street to the Italian deli, and the
least I can do is feed you for all you’ve done for me. I know I said the
upgrades weren’t in my budget right now, but I can make monthly payments. I
can’t let you do this for free.”

Placing his hand over hers still resting on his forearm, he
purposely lowered his voice to Dom mode. “I offered to do this, Fancy. And I
meant what I said. Pay me in sugar and whatever else you put into all those
yummy things behind the counter. That and seeing a smile like the one you just
gave me every day will be payment enough.”

She blushed as she giggled. “Sugar and a smile
every
day?
Hmmm
. I’ll think about it. Today, though, you definitely earned
them.”

They stood there staring at each other as the seconds ticked
by, and the rest of the shop faded away. Brody was about to lean forward and
kiss her, but thankfully, the bell on the door sounded again as new customers
entered, pushing the thought from his mind. As much as he wanted to kiss her,
here and now was neither the time nor the place. He had to take this slowly.
This woman was turning him inside out without even trying, and for the first
time in his life he thought he might have found “the one.” He only hoped she
would give him a chance.

With his black tie hanging undone around his neck, Brody
climbed from his truck and grabbed the tuxedo jacket he’d put on the hook
behind the driver’s seat. Who the fuck had thought of holding a black tie event
on a Friday night in the middle of September in Tampa? It was a quarter to four
in the afternoon and the outside temperature was still over the one hundred-degree
mark. Damn, he was ready to fucking melt. At least the air conditioning would
be on full blast in the offices and later on at the Hilton where the gala was
being held.

Entering the warehouse that had been turned into the Trident
offices, he hung the jacket up on the coat rack in the reception area before
heading to the conference room. As he passed the secretary’s desk, Colleen was
packing her things up to leave for the day, but she paused long enough to give
him a wolf whistle. “Looking good, Brody.”

He laughed and winked at her. “You know it. Have a good time
in Miami.”

She and Reggie were heading down there for a relative’s
wedding this weekend. “Thanks. See you Monday.”

Waving over his shoulder, he walked into the conference room
which had doubled in size with the renovations they’d made two months ago.
Parker’s company had done the original transformation of the warehouse into
office space downstairs, bunk rooms and living quarters upstairs, and a vehicle
garage in the back half of the building. There had been some unused space that
had been walled off until Trident needed it, which happened when they hired
more personnel—the Omega team. Returning, Parker had added more offices and
expanded the conference room and Brody’s war-room. While he loved having more space
for his computers and electronic toys, he wasn’t exactly thrilled Ian and Devon
had hired another computer geek. Their reasoning was they would be screwed if
anything happened to him, which, although he didn’t like it, he understood. At least
when the new guy, Nathan Cook, arrived next week, he’d be in charge of the
Omega team’s intel gathering so Brody’s workload wasn’t doubled to accommodate
both teams. He and Parker had designed the updated war-room so both geeks would
have their own space, yet have full access to whatever computer setup was
needed.

Most of the Omega team was already in the conference room,
which he’d expected since all but two of them were still using the bunk rooms
upstairs until they had a chance to find permanent housing. But there was no
rush for that. He took note of who was present and accounted for since he was
leading tonight’s detail. Valentino “Romeo” Mancini, Cain Foster, and Tristan
McCabe were studying the floor plans of the ballroom and surrounding areas of
the Hilton. While across the room, Darius “Batman” Knight and Kip “Skipper”
Morrison were involved in a conversation with Ian and Mousaf Amar. The only
person not dressed in various states of formal wear was Ian, who was wearing
black dress pants and a gray golf shirt. He’d be going with them to introduce
the new team to the princess, but then he had the rest of the night off. Must
be nice to be the boss and make the rules. Two team members were missing, but
they still had a few minutes before the briefing was about to start.

Stepping over to their client, Brody greeted the man with a
handshake. “It’s been a while, Amar. How are you doing?”

The dark-haired security agent with olive skin was of Malian
descent although his family immigrated to the small, neighboring, North African
country of Timasur when he was ten. “Good, my friend. It is a delight to be
back in Florida for a bit. I like the change in scenery.”

“How’s Her Royal Majesty doing? Better, I hope.”

Queen Azhar had fallen ill with unexplained renal failure
earlier in the year, forcing Princess Tahira to cancel a visit to the states
with two of her cousins. “Her Highness is doing much better and responding to
treatments. From the press release that was issued last week, the doctors are
expecting a full recovery. And thank you for asking. I will tell her you were
inquiring about her well-being.”

He was about to respond when a chorus of wolf whistles filled
the air as a brunette bombshell walked in wearing a female cut tuxedo and
Amar’s eyes widened. “Who is that beautiful creature, and why haven’t I met her
before?” he asked in a low, but interested voice.

Chuckling, Brody leaned closer. “She can kick your ass and
snipe you from a mile out.”

“That just makes her even more attractive,” the man murmured.

Rolling her eyes, Lindsey “Costello” Abbott groaned at the
heckling she was getting from the team. Over the past few months, the former
Marine sniper had more than proven she deserved to be on the Trident team as
much as the men did. While she had been hired to fill the sniper position in
place of Jake Donovan, who was putting together a west coast team, she’d been
on assignments and training with both teams over the past seven months. She
held her own in combat and physical training and had protected their sixes on a
few missions already. But clean off her camo grease paint and the woman was a
walking hard-on. To fit in with the extravagant venue this evening, her hair
was in some fancy updo which kept it out of her way while still being stylish.
Add the subtle makeup she wore and her toned yet curvy body, the woman would be
turning heads all evening without even trying. Nevertheless, any guy who tried
to interrupt her security assignment tonight would be either taken down and
talking soprano or peeing his pants when her 9mm was shoved into his face.
Underneath the custom-fit black attire was certainly a variety of weapons.

When she approached, Brody introduced her to their client.
“Lindsey, this is the head of the royal security detail, Mousaf Amar. Amar, this
is our newest sniper, Lindsey Abbott. She’ll be closest to Princess Tahira in
case she needs to go to the restroom or anywhere else the men shouldn’t be.”

Smiling, Amar bowed his head slightly in her direction. “It’s
a pleasure, Ms. Abbott.”

Lindsey responded with her own polite, yet professional
smile. “Thank you, Mr. Amar. And it’s my pleasure to meet you as well.”

The last man they were waiting for walked in. Logan “Cowboy”
Reese was introduced to Amar, and then Ian called the room to order. “All right.
Let’s go over tonight’s detail. Rule number one: I don’t care how much Princess
Tahira comes on to you—Abbott, this doesn’t apply to you—keep it in your
fucking pants. She’s off-limits. Not only will you be fired, but I will kick
your ass from here to Timasur where King Rajeemh will castrate you. Got it?
Good.”

An hour later, a caravan of black SUV’s drove through the
gate of the royal family’s vacation home; well, with its twenty-nine rooms, “mansion”
was a more appropriate word. The team poured out of the vehicles and hurried
into the air conditioning to keep from getting drenched in sweat. The
temperature had only dropped two degrees to ninety-nine, but the forecast had
called for it to fall even further to the high eighties after the sun went down.
Still not weather you wanted to be formally dressed in, though.

Amar quickly made the introductions to his own team members,
some of whom had been on duty all day and would be off for the next few hours.
It was one of the reasons the palace had hired Trident to supplement their
security personnel here in Florida.

The sound of high heels on granite tile had everyone looking
up to the top of a curved staircase leading to the foyer. Dressed in a
stunning, emerald evening gown, Princess Tahira made her grand entrance. The
fabric shimmered with her every movement, and her diamond necklace, bracelet,
and earrings caught the light as well. Her long black hair was swept up off her
neck with a few curls framing her exotic features. Brody noticed several new
team members’ eyes widening as the woman floated down the stairs with a regal
posture, which was half-nurtured and half-natural. They had seen several photos
of the princess earlier at the briefing, but those paled in comparison to the
real thing.

As Tahira reached the last step, Ian moved forward, taking
her proffered hand. She smiled warmly at him. “Hello, Ian Sawyer.” She had a
habit of using a person’s first and last name together. “It’s wonderful to see
you again. How is Ms. Angelina doing?”

The princess had met Angie last year when she and Ian had
accepted King Rajeemh’s invitation to visit the small, North African country.
The two women had hit it off, much to Ian’s surprise. Before that, Ian had been
on Tahira’s flirt list, which apparently didn’t extend to men who were in
committed relationships. Every other male, however, was fair game, and Brody
was sure she would be flirting with him and the rest of the team very shortly.
“Very well, Your Highness. She’s been busy with the wedding plans and was
thrilled to hear you and Prince Raj will be attending.”

“My brother and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. My parents
send their regrets, however. Father doesn’t like to travel so far from home
with Mother still recovering.” She turned her attention to Brody, and he bowed
his head slightly in respect of her title. “Well, hello, Brody Evans. It’s
always a pleasure to have you on my security detail. You look. . .”

Pausing, she tilted her head to the side and stared intently
at him. Unsure what she was scrutinizing, Brody glanced down to see if there
was something on his tuxedo. Not noticing anything, his gaze returned to hers.
“Is there a problem, Princess Tahira?”

Instead of answering him, she directed her response to Ian.
“It appears I’ve lost another one of my favorite American bodyguards to his
soul mate.”

Ian’s eyebrows shot up, and Brody was just as startled, if
not more. “
Um
. I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I’m not sure what you’re
talking about. I’m not dating anyone.”

A knowing grin spread across her face. “Maybe not yet, but
you have met her. I can see it in your eyes and body language, Brody Evans. But
you have doubts. Don’t. She will come around soon enough, and I’m happy for
you. Sad for me, but very happy for you. Truthfully, I had expected you to be
the first one of my Trident men to fall in love. But better late than never, as
you Americans say.”

His eyes narrowed in shock and thought as Ian introduced
Tahira to the members of the Omega team. Brody knew the woman was a firm
believer in soul mates and things being “written in the stars.” She’d known
right away when she met Angie that Ian and his fiancée were meant to be
together and had told Ian so. But how she knew Brody had met his soul mate was
completely lost on him. Yeah, he’d been thinking that maybe Fancy was the one
since he’d never before been so attracted to a woman to the point of jealousy
at seeing her embrace another man—even if it had been her brother-in-law.
However, he didn’t think he looked or acted any differently. At least enough
that the princess would notice within thirty seconds of observing him.

One of Amar’s men announced the arrival of the limousine,
which the princess would be taking to the gala, just as a dark-haired man
dressed in formal wear came hurrying down the stairs. It was Tahira’s cousin,
Farid, who was her escort for the evening. Brody didn’t bother greeting the
younger man since Farid had made it quite clear on numerous occasions he
thought anyone who wasn’t royalty was beneath him. The smug bastard would
answer to Amar because he had to, but he just sneered or glared at all the
other bodyguards if they spoke to him.

Once they confirmed everyone was ready, and the head of
security over at the gala had given the all clear, the group of royals and
guards exited the mansion. Ian bid the princess a pleasant evening before
leaving in one of the vehicles they’d ridden over in. Brody climbed into the
back of the limo with Tahira and Farid, while McCabe rode shotgun with Amar’s
guard, who was driving. The others would lead and follow the limo in the SUVs.
Settling into the soft, leather seat, the former SEAL sighed.
It’s going to
be a long, fucking night in this damned monkey suit
.

* * *

Pulling the cupcake pans out of the industrial sized oven,
Fancy lined them up on the long, butcher block table to cool. It was just after
midnight and, once again, she couldn’t sleep, so instead of tossing and
turning, she’d come to the bakery to at least be productive during her
insomnia. This was the last batch because she needed to try and get some sleep
before she had to be back at six thirty in the morning. Maybe she’d leave Sal a
note saying she would be in an hour late. They didn’t open until seven on
Saturday mornings.

Removing her protective mitts, she turned off the oven. She’d
cleaned up for Sal, so all she had to do was cover all the cupcakes, and he
could decorate them when he came in. The tarts were already taken care of, and
would go out in the display case in the morning. Reaching for the foil and
plastic wrap, she froze when she heard a loud knock at the locked front door.
While it was bright in the kitchen, the only lights on in the main shop were
the red security lamps.

Unsure who the hell would be knocking at the door so late,
she grabbed a large knife and her cell phone. Dialing 911, she held her thumb
over the “Send” button, ready to hit it if needed. Pushing the swinging door
open just enough for her to see out, she was shocked to see Brody Evans
standing outside the front entrance, looking in. He knocked louder this time,
and Fancy sighed. Leaving the knife on the counter, she hurried through the
shop to find out what he wanted. She didn’t realize until she’d entered the new
security code then unlocked and opened the door that he was dressed in a
tuxedo, sans bowtie, with the top shirt button undone. “Hi. What are you doing
here?”

His eyes scanned her body as if assuring himself she was okay.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I was driving home and saw the kitchen
light on with your car in the lot. Is everything all right? And what smells so
damn good?”