LITMIR.BIZ

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      “What aren’t you telling me?”

      Westley’s question jerked her gaze to meet his intense stare. Her heart pounded as her instinct warred with Ian’s directive.

      “Felicity, I can’t protect you if I don’t know what is going on.”

      True. Westley was the only one standing between her and a potential killer.

      Two killers, in fact.

      And if Westley didn’t know there was more than one threat out there, then how effective could he be? And once Westley knew everything, he could help catch her father’s murderer. She’d ask Ian for forgiveness later.

      “This wasn’t the work of Boyd Sullivan. At least, I don’t believe so.” There was the slimmest possibilities Boyd or his accomplice had trashed her home, though their motive was a mystery.

      Westley’s eyebrows rose. “Then who? Why?”

      She inhaled, blew out the breath and then said, “My father’s death wasn’t an accident.”

      Westley frowned. “What do you mean? How so?”

      Her stomach clenched. “Agent Steffen believes that the last case my dad was working on is why he’s dead. My father had a lead on a hit-and-run off base. His case notes are missing.”

      “So that’s what Agent Steffen wanted to talk to you about. He thinks your father’s death was no accident. That he was...murdered?”

      Bile rose to burn her throat. “Yes.”

      “Felicity—”

      She could hear the need to comfort her that had been in his voice earlier, when he hugged her. “Don’t. Please, Westley, just don’t. Not now.”

      Westley rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Okay. Okay.” He looked around the office. “So this was someone looking for the evidence your father had.”

      Grateful he was refocusing on something they could both handle, Felicity blew out another agitated breath. “I believe so. The question is did they find what they were looking for?”

      “This morning, when you thought there was someone in your house, there really was.”

      The grim reality of how vulnerable she’d been sent a shiver of terror down her spine. To cover her fright, she bent to pick up a broken picture frame.

      “Don’t.” He echoed her plea; only from him, the word was a command.

      She stilled.

      “The Security Forces crime-scene techs need to dust for prints and look for particulates.”

      Of course. She straightened and stared down at the smiling face of her father, his arm wrapped around her on her sixteenth birthday. Tears burned her eyes. She held them back. No way would she cry in front of Westley. “I miss him so much.”

      “He was proud of you,” Westley said.

      She lifted her gaze to him in surprise. “That’s kind of you to say.”

      “It’s the truth. He came to the training center not long before his death and watched you putting Riff through his paces,” Westley told her.

      That’s right. She’d been so nervous knowing her father was there. She’d tried extra hard to do everything perfectly. And Riff, thankfully, had cooperated on that day. She hoped someone found him soon and returned him to the training center.

      “He asked me how you were doing. If I thought you were in the right place.”

      Her stomach sank. She braced herself. “And what did you tell him?”

      “That you have the makings of a good trainer,” Westley replied.

      She swallowed the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “You did?”

      “Yes. I could tell he was pleased.”

      Love for her father swelled in her chest. “Do you believe that I’ll make a good trainer?”

      “I do. In time.”

      She held his gaze as his words slid into her, bolstering her confidence. That was the closest Westley had come to giving her a compliment on her work. Being the youngest and newest trainer, she tried so hard to earn his approval. Instead, most of the time she earned only a scowl from the handsome, buttoned-down master sergeant.

      He cleared his throat and averted his gaze but not before she saw a softening in his eyes that sent a flutter through her. He wasn’t scowling at her now.

      She swallowed and tried to make sense of the change in her boss. Well, he was no longer her CO. Now he was her protector.

      Gesturing to the front door, he said, “Let’s wait outside.”

      With Dakota at their heels, they walked out to the porch.

      Felicity leaned against the railing and faced him. The need to make sure they were on equal footing forced words from her mouth. “I’m trusting you to keep me safe. I’m trusting you with the knowledge that my dad’s death was more than it seems.”

      Westley braced his feet apart and returned her gaze. “I’m honored. On both accounts.”

      She narrowed her eyes. She toggled two fingers between them. “But this has to be a two-way street. You must trust me, as well. I’m not some wilting lily for you to prop up.”

      A small smile curved his lips. “Duly noted.”

      Annoyance buzzed around her head like a million tiny mosquitoes. It was like doing her absolute best to prove herself yet again and falling short.

      A flush of frustration heated her skin. “I need to know that you won’t keep secrets from me. If something comes up with Boyd or the investigation into my father’s death, you can’t try to protect me by not telling me.”

      All humor left his face. His jaw firmed. “If you need to know I’ll tell you.”

      “No. That’s exactly what I mean.” She pushed off the railing. “If we’re to do this, we’re all in together. You don’t get to decide what’s right for me. Not you, or anyone.”

      “Aren’t you tired of carrying that chip on your shoulder all the time?” he commented softly.

      Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to do my best.”

      “But you don’t have to do this alone,” he countered.

      “As my supervisor, I took instructions from you. But now, you’re not my boss. I want to make sure we are clear on that.”

      “Crystal.”

      He stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head to look up at him. She found herself fascinated with the little gold specks surrounding his dark irises, making the outer rim of blue even brighter up close. There was so much in his gaze that confused and confounded her. Determination. A spark of anger. And something else that had her pulse leaping.

      What was going on? This was her superior. The man who never stopped watching her so he could find a fault.

      “But make no mistake, Felicity.” His deep voice commanded her attention. “My mission is to protect you. Whatever it takes. If I tell you to duck, you’d better duck. I refuse to have your stubbornness cost you your life.”

      Felicity swallowed hard. She hated the way his words wound through her, conjuring up horrifying images of death and destruction. “I am not stubborn.”

      His mouth softened and his eyes sparkled. “Your stubbornness is one of your most appealing traits.”

      He found her appealing? Whoa. That was unexpected.

      She blew out a breath, unsure what to say or how to feel. The line between them that always seemed so clear at the training center was now blurring.

      Before

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