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“Heather, you’ll be with Marly and Sarah shopping,” Tara told her firmly the next morning as the group of bodyguards met in the bunkhouse for a final briefing. “Helena and Calvin’s team will be moving into place soon in the shops along the street while Rick and his team set up to watch the street from the café across the street. We’ll keep it simple and short and see what happens.”

“Nothing’s happened yet.” Raider, a big, rawboned ex-mercenary shifted dangerously in his seat. “And it won’t until Sam makes his move. What you’re dealing with here is someone too smart to mess up until you make him mad. I say we make him mad.”

Heather glanced over at the big man, frowning. Raider wasn’t his real name, and he hadn’t been with the team long enough for her to get to know him very well. His black eyes were cold; his expression, more often than not, devoid of emotion or feeling. But sometimes, like now, she caught a lingering glimpse of humor in the corners of his lips when he watched Tara.

“What do you suggest, Raider, an August orgy in the center of town?” Tara sneered coldly.

“Only if Heather’s in the center of it.” He shrugged. “But it seems like overkill to me, Tara. The stalker’s got a line on that house somehow. He’ll know if she’s fucking him.”

Heather flushed and cursed the flare of arousal that lit, fast and furious, in her body at the thought of Sam. He had carefully avoided the “family times,” as Tara had labeled them, several months before, until the past night. But in walking away from them, it seemed that he only grew darker, edgier, more dangerous.

“My sister isn’t being pimped out for this assignment,” Tara snapped furiously.

“That’s enough, Tara,” Heather said softly as she turned to her sister. “The bad part is, he’s right. These little outings aren’t doing anything but wearing on those women’s nerves, and mine.” She was tired of shopping, tired of the tension and fear that marked Heather and Sarah’s gazes while they were out.

She looked at Raider, and for a second, caught an edge of savage mercilessness in his eyes. Only Rick and Tara seemed to know the other man very well, there were times he flat terrified her.

“Until we come up with something better, this is it,” Tara informed them both ruthlessly. “If you don’t like following orders, Raider, you can pack up and head out anytime. No one forces you to stay here.”

The tension thickened instantly. Raider drew slowly to his feet as the other six agents in the room watched warily.

“Yeah, someone does, Tara,” he growled, his voice deadly. “But I’ll take that up with her when the time’s right. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

He stalked from the room. He didn’t move fast, he didn’t stomp. You never heard a footfall, he was so damned quiet. And it was all the more terrifying for the complete silence. The door clicked quietly behind him before all eyes turned to Tara.

“He’ll live.” She shrugged as though unconcerned, but Heather saw the worry that lit her light green eyes.

“That boy’s going to slip his leash one day. When he does, there’ll be hell to pay.” Bret Austin, the August employee who had joined the group months before, shook his head warily. “I’d watch that one.”

“Don’t you have cattle to watch?” Tara frowned, her voice reproving.

A careless grin tipped the cowboy’s face as his hazel eyes lit up with laughter. “Hell, cows ain’t this much fun. Can’t I stay around and watch some more?”

“Show’s over,” Tara grunted. “You’re here on house detail. Make sure you keep those damned men here at the house, Bret. It defeats the purpose if they follow us.”

Bret grimaced. “Damned good thing Rick promised me work when Cade fires me. ‘Cause by damned, he will eventually. Keep him home,” he snorted. “That’s like ordering me to keep a momma bear in her den while you torture her cubs.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “At least warn me if they head out. They made the deal. One more trip out. Don’t let them screw us over without warning.”

“Will do.” He nodded shortly, though Heather doubted seriously that he would go against Cade August if push came to shove. Hell, even Rick hesitated before going up against the oldest brother.

“And you,” Tara hissed as the men filed from the room. “Stay the hell out of Sam August’s bedroom.”

Heather arched her brow slowly. “You’re not my keeper, Tara.”

“No, I’m your sister, and I’m telling you that the August men are more than you can handle. Stop playing with fire and concentrate on your job.”

“Sam August is my job,” she said softly. “I won’t pretend I don’t care for him. Even for you.”

She understood Tara’s worry, knew the dark experiences from her sister’s past that fueled her concern.

“God, Heather, haven’t you learned how dangerous this is yet?” Tara bit out. “You’re scarred forever. Dead lasts just as long. You were lucky the first time, now pull back.”

“Stop, Tara.” Heather faced her sister slowly, tucking her hands in her jeans pockets to still the need to wrap her arms around the other woman. She could see Tara’s pain, the ghosts that haunted her. “You can’t protect me from this, and you can’t order me away from him as though I were a child.”

“I can fire you,” she snapped angrily.

“Then fire me.” Heather shrugged. “I won’t leave, and I won’t stay any farther away from Sam than he keeps me pushed back, anyway.”

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