“To hell with the bastard. He doesn’t own your right to come here. Look at the sights you are missing.” Sophie pointed to two handsome men working on laptops. “They are ’re serious eye candy.” “You’re right, Soph. Maybe it is time.” Sophie turned serious. “Cass, you have to say something. You can’t let Wilds get away with this.” “Look, I stopped him before he got too far. If I report it, it’s ‘he said, she said.’ And, Soph, believe me, I am not the first female agent Wilds has done this to.” Sophie scowled. “You can live with that?” “This time, I have no choice. I am not the one to fight this battle. Wednesday night is the event, and when the job is complete, I’ll be free of him. I can come back to our division. Besides, the reality is, even without my personal history, if I say anything, I’m a pariah.” The athletically thin, raven-haired woman with golden-hazel eyes tapped her fiery red fingernails against the tabletop. “Cassie, please. If this were happening to me, you’d be rattling sabers, screaming sexual harassment.” “Sophie, you know what this is. Wilds has a lot of power. You also know the FBI is part of the good ole boys club. I had to jump through extra hoops to get where I am. It’s a temporary assignment.” Her voice was low. “No one will help without it backfiring on them. I can’t ask anyone to risk his or her career.” She placed the catalog of Nouveau Art in front of them, effectively changing the topic. “What do you say, after Memorial Day, a weekend in New York?” Suddenly, Cassie’s skin prickled. A repellant smell swarmed her senses: an oriental cologne with amber notes mixed with the odor of sweat and clove cigarettes. An overpowering feeling of nausea washed over her, and goosebumps erupted down her arms. The visceral reaction was so strong, she wrapped her fingers around her cup to ward off the icy feeling enveloping her. She scanned the area. No one appeared threatening or familiar. The aroma dissipated into a cloud of steam from a fresh latté. She concentrated hard to maintain her flagging self-control. Breathe in. One, two, three. Out. Cassie focused on her watch. “Soph, I’m sorry. Gotta go.” She ran out of the door. *** The hot black coffee scalded his tongue. He ran his thin fingers through his messy white-blond hair while his other hand reached for another sugar packet. His heart sped up after spotting Cassie in the corner with her friend. A display of the newest bestsellers provided him with a way to get closer. Mmm, Cassiopeia Ellis. Look at you all put together. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, my girl who got away. I think you are worth a repeat performance. He felt the tingles of arousal. I wonder if you will come willingly this time— or if you will require some assistance. Another thought crossed his drug-addled mind: Maybe I can make a little cash on the deal, too? Cassiopeia Ellis, I missed you. *** Inside a cheerful family den, Ian Chase sat relaxed on the buttery yellow, red, and colonial blue-striped, overstuffed couch across from FBI Deputy Assistant Director Luke Paulsen. He removed a file from his briefcase. “Everyone all right?” Luke asked, taking a sip from a glass of ice water. “A few scrapes and a sprained knee. Nothing steri-strips and some ice packs can’t cure.” Ian flashed a carefree smile, being less than candid about his team’s injuries. Luke scanned the file’s contents. “How’s Kieran enjoying married life? It’s been almost a year now?” he inquired about Ian’s younger brother with a laugh. “Bet Lil and Declan can’t wait for a grandchild.” “You know it. Now they are in a Find Ian a Wife phase. Mom’s better at executing a covert mission than JSOC. I have to tell you, enemy insurgents are easier to handle than her. Thank God Esther screens my appointments well. If one more woman stops by the office with a charitable cause to discuss or is in the neighborhood with cookies...” Luke shook his head, amused. “I should hook her up with Rachel. None of the boys have a regular girl. Each promised to give her one week’s notice so she can get a dress in time for the wedding.” Both men laughed. Their discussion was interrupted by the loud barks of the Paulsens’ Labrador. *** Cassie drove up to the six-bedroom, four-story, white Federalist home in Georgetown in her metallic blue hybrid. The clapboard house with terraced porches overlooking the landscaped backyard brought her a sense of peace. After the haunting deaths of her parents and younger brother twelve years earlier, Luke and Rachel Paulsen became her guardians. The sixteen-year-old Cassie was treated as their daughter and a sister to the Paulsens’ five sons. During a quick walk up the cobblestone front path, Cassie noted her Uncle Luke’s black, FBI-issued Chevrolet Tahoe in the driveway. She also noticed two black sedans parked five hundred feet down the block with two occupants in each vehicle. Cassie needed to talk through the bookstore incident before dinner and before her Aunt Rachel came home from her job as a social worker in a DC elementary school. But first, she needed to discuss the suspicious vehicles. That thought short-circuited when she saw a sharp, expensive Ducati Diavel motorcycle parked at the top of the driveway. A big black lab greeted her in the foyer with leaps, barks, and squeals. “Knight, down.” In his excitement, the lumbering, hundred-pound dog knocked Cassie off- balance. “Damn.” She landed hard on her bottom, the bottle of wine in her hand almost hitting the floor. “Cassie? Are you okay?” Luke called out. She yelled back over the barking, “I’m fine, Uncle Luke. Just my pride, but I saved the wine.” As she got up, Knight lifted her holster off her waist with his big jaws. “Knight, I’m going to kill you. Stop. It’s a good thing you’re cute. Knight, freeze!” She jogged through the living room and into the adjoining den behind the naughty dog. Cassie ran headlong into the room just in time to see Knight drop her slobbered-on weapon into the lap of the man sitting across from her uncle. Cassie pulled to a halt, almost dropping the wine again. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She was flustered by the man’s presence. He seemed unfazed by the spit-soaked holster. “I’m guessing this belongs to you?” The man managed to catch the wine and hand her the weapon at the same time. His electric blue eyes widened. Cassie couldn’t find her voice. The clean-shaven man—sitting there in jeans and a fitted, navy blue sweater stretched across a muscular chest, exposing a smattering of black hair with sleeves rolled to his elbows—looked magazine-cover handsome. “Thank you.” Cassie wiped the holster against her silky parachute pants and hooked it back on her hip, unable to take her eyes from his. Luke Paulsen moved around the couch to pull her into a bear hug. “Pumpkin! You’re early. I thought you were hanging with Sophie. Not that I am unhappy you’re here.” He pressed her back with outstretched arms. “Are you eating? You look too thin.” Cassie winced from embarrassment. “Yes, sir. I’m eating. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” *** Ian observed Luke’s worried gaze. Now standing, the six-foot-three-inch Adonis watched Cassie with a spark in his eye. The memory from six years ago flooded back to him. Auburn waves were pulled into a demure low bun, dressed in a vintage Halston ombré silk dress and sleek navy Valentino peep-toe heels. Her vibrant, jungle green eyes glowed as brightly as her smile. “Well, Luke, where have you been hiding this beauty?” At the compliment, Cassie smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Her expression appeared well practiced. “Excuse me. Ian Chase, this is my niece, Cassie.” Ian grasped her extended hand and resisted the desire to lean down and kiss her cheek. Instead, he held her gaze. “Have we met before?” she asked. Ian nodded and smiled. “We have.” Doe eyes turned alarmed. He felt a sudden need to comfort her. Where did that idea come from? “Pleased to see you again, Dr. Ellis. We met at the National Gallery six years ago. You stole hearts and had the crowd eating out of your hands.” A haunted look clouded her gaze. “It’s Modine now, but thank you for the compliment. It was fun. I had the waiters put laxatives in the appetizers. It loosened the group up a bit.” Ian’s lips twitched at her sense of humor. “I’m glad I missed that.” A glance at her left hand kicked up his heartbeat — no wedding ring. “Mr. Chase, could I borrow my uncle for a moment?” Luke Paulsen’s facial expression shift was almost invisible, but Ian still managed to observe the slight change. His intrigue with Cassie was growing. Her body had changed since he first saw her at the museum. Her five-foot-one frame was tight, lean, and fit. Those striking eyes seemed less carefree and more guarded. *** In the hall, Cassie asked about the two sedans. Luke’s laugh was hearty. “Cassie, come back into the den. Ian, your team is losing their touch. She noted both sedans.” Ian’s brow arched with amusement. “I’m sorry to cause you alarm, Ms. Modine. They are part of my security team.” She let her guard down for a brief moment. “Hmm, they must love the Ducati.” Protecting a person on a high-performance bike was not easy. A man of his economic stature faced a multitude of threats. She scratched Knight’s ears to find something to do with her sweaty palms. Her heart still pounded with her earlier fear and something else. She remembered the feeling from once before in her life—the night she met a bearded stranger at the museum. It was the last moment before her life was torn apart a second time. “Cassie, Ian and Christian made it through BUD/S together.” BUD/S was basic underwater demolition and SEAL training. Christian was the eldest Paulsen son. “Ian was also Caleb’s platoon leader for a short time.” Cassie shifted uneasily. Is he the same man? His name was Ian too.  “Come sit. Ian and I just finished a bit of business. How’s work?” Cassie frowned, “I hate him. Wilds is a misogynistic ass.” The words fell out of her mouth and, Cassie didn’t need to see her uncle’s expression to realize he was expecting a less upfront conversation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chase. I usually think before I speak.” “Please call me Ian. I’m assuming you are talking about Supervisory Special Agent Greg Wilds and his ego.” Cassie shot a worried gaze at her uncle. Before Luke could speak, Ian said, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me.” He handed her the small credentials wallet holding her FBI identification, which Knight also stole. Cassie flushed. “Goodness. I’m sorry, Mr. Cha … Ian, if I offended you with my comment. Oh, God. I never thought you would know him. If he’s a friend, I do apologize.”  “Don’t worry. Greg and I have known each other for a long time. Please don’t judge me.” It seemed like he could not take his eyes off her. “I’d better get going. I’ll leave you to your uncle.” He reached for her hand, his huge palm dwarfing her petite fingers. “Good day, Cassie. I look forward to seeing you again.” The brief touch confirmed what Cassie’s body knew: Ian Chase was her bearded stranger. I wish things could be different. You won’t like me once you know what I am. *** Luke walked Ian to the front door. “Thank you. Chase Security came through again. It would be a Homeland nightmare if Dr. Breckenridge spent one more day in their custody. If it wasn’t for you and your team…” Luke’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I will tell them. Call us at any time. My best to Rachel and Team Paulsen.” That was his nickname for the five Paulsen sons. He glanced down the hall. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Luke asked,. “Yes, sir. She is.” A sad look passed Luke’s eyes. “She’s dear to us.” Ian nodded and moved to the bike. Tapping his Bluetooth, he said, “I want a complete background check on FBI Special Agent Dr. Cassie Ellis Modine.”