Page 125 of Missile Strike

Isabella glanced between her parents, her ribs tightening. “I’m done, too, Daddy. No more involvement in your campaign.”

The senator didn’t respond. He slung an arm around her. “Come spend the night with us. We’re headed back to DC tomorrow.”

The only thing she wanted to do was go home with Danny. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? She intended to spend as much time with him as she could.

Her mother must have read her expression correctly. “Graham, Isabella has better things to do than hang out with her parents.” Leaning in, she brushed her lips against Isabella’s cheek. “Go home and rest. We’ll talk soon.”

Nathan and Emily sat at their table, waiting while hotel staff busily cleared the settings and disassembled the stage.

“It’s been a while.” Isabella greeted Emily with a hug. The other woman, already tall in bare feet, towered over Isabella in heels. The ice-blue gown she wore looked stunning, especially against the ash-blonde hair that cascaded around her bare shoulders.

“So, you and Surfer Dude.” Emily’s light blue-green eyes appraised Isabella, a sly grin on her lips. “I approve. He needs someone to keep him in line.”

Nathan snorted.

Isabella’s brows gathered. “Surfer Dude?”

“Her nickname for Danny.” Nathan leaned back, letting his arm drape along the back of his wife’s chair. A hint of amusement warmed his icy eyes. “Tell your boy he owes me two hundred bucks.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Adrenaline rode Danny as he navigated the Mustang south through Charlotte’s thinning late-night traffic toward Bella’s home. Only he wasn’t coming off the usual high following an adventurous but successful security assignment.

Fury coated his insides, cold to the touch and relentless.

Despite his efforts, Omar had gotten too close to Bella. Close enough that he could have hurt her—maybe even killed her, if Talia hadn’t bought Danny a precious few seconds by launching herself at the guy.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Bella said from the passenger seat. Fabric whispered as she shifted beside him.

“I fucked up.” The admission was acid on his tongue.

“How do you figure? You got the bad guy.”

“He got close to you, Bella. He fucking had his hands on you. That never should have happened.” Danny had taken him to the floor in a headlock, the cold metallic scent of the man’s cologne and the sharp tang of sweat imprinted on his memory even as his actions were automatic, not requiring thought.

He knew exactly how quickly a situation could go sideways. When he’d been on the Teams, plenty of missions hadn’t gone according to plan. He still remembered Joe Logan, his chief petty officer. One second Joe had been alive. The next, Danny was helping carry what remained of his chief onto a medevac. Too late.

They’d all been too late.

Her soft palm slid over the back of his hand. “I’m okay.”

“Thanks to Talia.” It galled him that he’d proven Talia right. He hadn’t protected Bella when it mattered.

“Thanks to you.” She sighed, her head meeting the back of the car seat with a soft thud. “Thank God the gala is over, and I can return to my normal life.”

His hands locked on the wheel, knuckles pulling tight.

Not yet.

The most the district attorney could charge Omar Hassan with would be trespassing. Maybe simple assault and resisting arrest. None of those charges would keep him in jail for long.

Tomorrow, Danny would have Bella file a restraining order. Hell, he’d personally escort Hassan to the airport and put the bastard on a flight to California if that’s what it took.

Until then, he wasn’t taking anything for granted.

When they reached the house, he made her wait in the car while he did a sweep of the interior.

She opened her mouth like she was about to argue, then closed it again and folded her arms across her chest.