Iron Willed Warrior (Last Refuge Protectors #5)

12. Cole

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cole

Five days later, we were on our way to Arizona. The undercover mission had officially begun.

After driving all day, we walked into the Sunset Rocks Resort. Desert plants grew all around, creating a lush atmosphere despite the arid climate. Palm trees, saguaro cactuses. Blooming bushes with pink flowers. Calming music played overhead. It was like a fancy spa. Way too fancy for me. At least it was warm.

I straightened my linen button-down, feeling way out of place here. But at least I was a confident guy. I was good at storming into places that I didn’t belong.

In contrast, Brynn strode into the lobby like she was born to do it. She wore a sundress that swirled and flowed around her curves. Tall wedge sandals that made her legs look a mile long.

The clerk at the desk looked up, smiling. “Checking in?” His gaze bounced from Brynn, to me, then back again.

“Sure are.” Brynn swept her dyed honey-blond hair over her shoulder. “I saw the pool on the way in. Can’t wait to get out there.” Her Brianna voice was far bubblier than her real one. In fact, everything about her was slightly off the Brynn I knew. Brighter and sunnier, which made me feel even more like a grump by comparison. Luckily, that fit my cover.

The scent of her new perfume filled my nose. Coconut and pineapple layered with tropical flowers. The blond hair and the new wardrobe were disorienting, given how little they fit the real woman beneath. But my reaction to her was the same.

She rested her elbows on the counter, and the clerk’s eyes darted briefly downward to her cleavage. The movement was so quick it would be easy to miss. But I caught it. I edged in right behind her and scowled at the guy to make sure he knew I’d seen.

“Cameron Clay and Brianna Waverley,” I said gruffly.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. His name tag read Lance . “Yes sir, of course. I just need your ID and a credit card.”

I took the fake from my wallet. I’d tried out the credit card a time or two, but this would be the first real test of the documents the FBI task force had created. Sweat dampened my armpits, though I wouldn’t let my nerves show.

Brynn studied her nails beside me. Meanwhile, Lance studied my ID.

I put my hands on the counter and leaned forward, doing my best to be intimidating. And my best was usually pretty strong. “I want a bottle of your most expensive champagne delivered to the room. And no housekeeping service during our stay unless we ask for it. We won’t want to be disturbed.”

“Yes, Mr. Clay. I can put in that request.” Finally, Lance smiled, handing back my fake ID. “Great news. We’ve upgraded you to a Jacuzzi suite. No additional charge.”

Brynn squealed and nestled into my side. “Doesn’t that sound romantic, baby?”

I grunted an affirmative, still frowning, though my inner relief was palpable. No issues with my ID. The FBI hadn’t screwed that up, at least.

Nearly everything else, including the gear hiding inside a secret compartment of our vehicle, was from the Protectors. Them, I had more faith in. But either way, we were here. Past the first test and in the door.

Brynn slid away from me, flitting around the lobby as if admiring the luxurious decor. But she was scoping out the place, just like I was.

“You’re here for the small business seminar?” Lance asked.

I nodded. “But we plan on making the most of the trip.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He grinned. “Ms. Waverley seems very…energetic.”

I glared at him until he went back to tapping on the computer.

Lance the hotel clerk gave us our keys and a map of the resort, and then we were on our way to the room. I carried our bags myself, having declined the bell hop service.

Brynn slid an arm around my waist. “Nice touch with the champagne,” she murmured.

“I didn’t like how closely he was looking at my ID.”

She laughed, as if I had said something charming, and gazed at me adoringly as some other resort guests passed us. “You’re worrying too much.”

I ’ m not worrying , I wanted to protest. If anything, I didn’t feel like I was focused enough. All this touching and cuddling after five days of zero contact between us? Could she blame me for being distracted?

As for The Kiss , which in my head started with capital letters, that subject was off limits. It hadn’t been repeated in the days since, and neither of us had brought it up. But it was still there like a blinking neon sign in my head.

We reached the room, and I swiped the keycard. Brynn went past me, cooing at the furnishings. The place was all white. The bedding, the walls, the upholstery on the chairs and couch. Everything . I couldn’t imagine the laundry bills for this place. The bleach alone. Jeez.

I joined her at the windows, which took up the far wall opposite the bed. We had a view of the resort’s manicured grounds, and beyond that, rolling hills of red rock.

I turned around, unable to avoid the most dominant feature of the room. The king-size bed, which we would be sharing for the next several days of this mission. Beyond, the sliding door to the bathroom was open, revealing an expanse of white marble. And there was the Jacuzzi tub. Even bigger than I’d been expecting. Plenty of space for anything .

Nope, I wasn’t going near that tub. It was going to be nonstop ice-cold showers for me from here on out.

This woman was killing me.

Room service arrived with the champagne and two glasses. Brynn kept snapping pictures with her phone in its shiny, pale purple case. Something else River had provided: cell phones for this mission, uncrackable and untraceable to our real identities.

But as soon as I had the door closed and locked, Brynn pulled the curtains, and her demeanor changed instantly. Without a word, we checked the room for audio or video surveillance. We found nothing.

I grabbed my bag to unpack our guns. Securing our weapons, those we’d brought inside, was next on my priorities. Taking out my multitool, I used the screwdriver to open up an air vent. I taped a plastic envelope holding my handgun and ammo to the duct, making sure it was well concealed. I secured a second gun to the underside of the drawer on the nightstand. The tactical knife, I taped under the sink in the bathroom. If housekeeping did decide to visit, they wouldn’t find anything unless they were specifically looking .

I had a few more important items, but I didn’t unpack those yet. I’d find another place for them.

Meanwhile, Brynn kicked off her shoes, typing on her phone with purpose as she sat on the couch.

“Checking in with the Protectors?” I asked.

Brynn nodded, not looking up. “I’m letting them know we’ve arrived. No updates on their end.” After a couple of minutes, she set the phone aside and stood.

“And the flash drive…” I began. She knew what I meant. The virus program that River had provided to upload to Westwick’s devices. It was disguised to look like a tube of lipstick.

“In my purse. We’re set.” She was tense. I could feel it across the room. And she had claimed I was the worried one?

But was Brynn tense about the op? Or was it about me and this room we’d be sharing? More specifically, the bed. Which she had avoided looking at, just as she avoided looking at me now that we were alone.

Since The Kiss, we had kept things strictly platonic. It had been nothing but work and preparation. Preparation and work. No more practicing our cover story. No more misunderstandings , as Brynn had called it.

But I’d gotten the message. She wasn’t interested. Brynn had made it very clear that, no matter how much chemistry I might’ve felt when we kissed at the bar, it was all one-sided.

Yet I hadn’t been able to shake it off, either.

After we’d kissed that night, I had jerked off frantically in bed as I’d replayed the whole thing in my mind. The little moans she’d made as our tongues glided together. The way she’d melted into me. I’d jerked off again in the shower the next morning. In the days since, I had needed a lot of extra long showers. Dean would probably wonder when he saw the water bill.

Now Brynn and I had to share a bed. And a Jacuzzi tub big enough to fit both of us, naked and soapy and slippery. A picture I should not be imagining. I was acting like the horn dog Brynn had accused me of being the first day we met.

Which made me feel even more shitty when there were certain details about my agenda on this mission that I was keeping from her.

I had a strategy, though. I would not initiate any kind of touch, even when we were in character. I would leave that to Brynn. Or rather, Brianna. She was the sweet, vivacious, affectionate one. Meanwhile, Cameron was a possessive grump who got joy from very little. That much, I could handle.

If she was nervous I’d do something inappropriate, I wanted to assure her she had nothing to be concerned about.

“What’s up?” I asked. “What are you thinking about?”

“The plan. Contingencies.”

“Isn’t that what we talked about the entire fourteen hour drive here?” And the five days before that. Certainly hadn’t discussed anything personal.

“Yes, but I hate this part of a mission. When we’re in the open, on the move, but we haven’t encountered the enemy yet. I can’t sit still.”

That I could understand. Garon Westwick and his head of security would arrive tomorrow. I expected they’d send a man ahead to prep and secure their rooms. That was something I intended to find out today. Until we had eyes on the enemy and had a sense of what we were really dealing with, we’d both be antsy.

Planning was all well and good, but a mission didn’t truly take shape until you were in the thick of it.

“We could relax, since that’s what Cameron and Brianna came here to do,” I said.

Brynn finally glanced at me, eyes flashing. “Relax? ”

“Take a bubble bath in the fancy tub.” I quickly added, “Just you , I mean. Alone. I wasn’t suggesting…anything else.”

Smooth, Lynx. Very smooth .

Her cheeks pinked. “We should take care of that errand. Setting things up for River, like he asked.”

“I’ll take care of it. I could use a walk around the resort to get a feel for it.” I didn’t want to leave her alone, but Brynn could handle herself. We could both use some breathing room.

“Then I’ll go hang out by the pool. Meet some of the other guests and make some posts for Brianna’s socials. I need to change.” She took a few things from her bag, went into the bathroom, and came out wearing a silky cover-up. I assumed she had a swimsuit beneath. She grabbed her phone and a room key. “See you in a bit.”

“Later.”

The door snicked closed.

“Fuck,” I muttered. Fifteen minutes into the op, and I already wondered how I was going to make it through days more of this.

The rest of my unpacking was next, including the tools I always carried to make adjustments to my prosthesis. With those chores finished, I changed into pool wear. Shorts, a tee, and slip-on shoes. As much as it bugged me to go around unarmed, it couldn’t be helped. Damn undercover work. Even a grumpy asshole like Cameron Clay wouldn’t carry a gun to the resort pool.

I did have the rest of those important items to unpack, though. Had to find the right kind of hiding place.

Before leaving, I set up a few secondary security measures so we’d know if anyone came into the room. A tiny folded piece of paper, along with one of Brynn’s long hairs, positioned carefully in the doorframe. Old school, but effective.

With a small daypack over my shoulder, I walked down the hall, allowing my usual gruff expression to take over my face. Time for some recon.

When I’d been planning my cover over the last few days, I had tried to keep it simple. My usual mantra for most things. There was no way I could pull off playing someone totally different from me. I wasn’t Brynn with her acting skills. So Cameron Clay had to be rough around the edges. A loner. He was Brianna Waverley’s manager, but he wasn’t some fancy agent working at a big talent agency. Cameron was more of an opportunist. The type of guy who had met a pretty, talented girl and latched onto her. Men like that were a dime a dozen in this world, and I had to expect that Garon Westwick would understand it.

He didn’t have to like me or believe I was a decent manager. Just had to see that I was possessive of the woman I considered my property. And Westwick would definitely understand that.

As far as clothes for my persona, I had gone with warm-weather resort wear. Shorts, cargos, lightweight shirts. Not all that different from what I typically wore in Mexico or Columbia or Belize when I was working. Plus a couple pairs of nicer pants and a sport coat in case I had to dress up. As I strolled around the resort, I was glad to see that I fit right in. While this place was upscale, most of the guests were dressed down. Heading off to the pool, spa appointments, or yoga classes.

I walked the winding paths that led from building to building. The spa was in a separate area, as were the gym and tennis courts. Hiking trails branched away from the property and into the rocky hills. I made a note of possible hiding places, both for myself or for weapons .

Or for stashing a body.

But I lucked out when I walked around the rear of the main building, on the side with the delivery entrance and the employee doors. I spotted a thick metal door marked Roof Access . A chain looped around the handle with a padlock securing it. But the padlock wasn’t actually locked.

I tugged the door open, finding a stairwell. At the top, another door led onto the flat roof of the main building. It was covered in tarpaper with air conditioning units lining one side. There were some wooden crates turned upside down and positioned in a circle, with a large glass ashtray on one of them. Cigarette butts piled high. A few empty beer bottles and a dry fifth of Jack Daniels.

Unlike the rest of the resort, this was purely a functional space for maintenance and storage, but it looked like the employees had converted it into a break area. Judging by the chain and padlock, they weren’t supposed to be up here. Nor was I.

This would do very nicely.

I lowered my daypack to the ground, unzipping it. A smaller bag was inside. My personal goody bag. Among other things, it held zip-ties, a gag, and a syringe filled with enough sleepy-time meds to knock out a full-grown man in seconds.

I found a nice hiding spot inside a stack of discarded pieces of metal, ductwork, and other debris. Odds and ends that the maintenance crew had left here instead of hauling offsite. My bag of goodies vanished behind a rectangle of metal. Easy for me to recover later.

Then I took out my smokes and lit one up, taking a seat on a wooden crate. A sense of calm flooded me. Brynn was an epic distraction for many reasons, but I couldn’t forget my ultimate goal here.

After she planted that virus on Westwick’s devices, and River had gotten whatever access to Stillwater’s network that he needed, that wasn’t the end of my mission. No matter what Brynn or her former FBI friends had to say about it. I intended to make sure she stayed safe. That was a given.

But afterward, I would personally see that Garon Westwick suffered for every evil thing he’d done. And ensure he never got the chance to repeat it.