Breaking Her Rules

chapter 5



Sato put the forty-two foot Hatteras in neutral, then dimmed the lights as the boat she’d rented idled quietly in Biscayne Bay. She would have preferred to rent a Donzi because they were a hell of a lot faster if she needed to make a quick exit, but the speedboat wasn’t conducive to this type of operation.

There weren’t many boats out tonight and she had her scanner on, listening for Miami PD or Coast Guard chatter. So far all was silent, which was perfect for what she intended.

She didn’t drop the anchor and instead let the boat slightly drift as she went below deck to retrieve her Dragunov. While she didn’t much care for the Russians she occasionally dealt with in her field of work, they made damn fine weapons and she loved her sniper rifle. She preferred poison or close-quarter killing because it was easy to confirm elimination of the target, but right now she had to utilize whatever was at her disposal. If that meant taking out the target with a gun, she’d go that route.

Before ascending all the way to the upper deck, she paused at the top step and looked around the quiet bay area for any threat, but all she saw was the coastal outline of San Marino and San Marco Islands. Using Google Earth and actual maps, she’d pinpointed exactly where Wyatt Christiansen’s house was along the San Marino coastline. He was south side, which would make her escape easier—since she could use the other islands as cover if necessary. There was a string of six palm trees blocking some windows of the Mediterranean style mansion, but she had clear visibility of the rear facing upstairs and downstairs windows.

She smoothly slid her rifle up on the roof of the boat covering, then hoisted herself up. The salty air tickled her nose, making her wish she was actually in Miami to enjoy herself. After setting up the weapon’s tripod and aiming the rifle toward Christiansen’s house, she stretched out on the flat surface. Since she was petite, she had enough room to be comfortable laying there. Peering through the scope, she slowly scanned the building and surrounding landscape. She would need to get closer to take a shot since her scope was calibrated for a shorter distance, but right now she wanted to do some recon to see if it was even possible. There was a covered pool between the back lanai and the stoned area to dock a boat—or more likely a yacht. But she’d never get close enough to come in through the water. Not unless she used diving gear. Sato filed that thought away for later if her other plans fell through.

The extended balcony had the shades pulled down and the two expansive windows to the left of it were also dark. She knew from the specs of the house she’d retrieved that was the master bathroom. Unfortunately all the windows on the bottom floor had shades drawn also. She could see the outline of at least four people patrolling the grounds, but didn’t doubt there would be more she couldn’t see. After she’d been seen there early this morning security would be increased three-fold.

When one of the shadowed figures turned in her direction and paused, she quickly rolled off the covering then grabbed her weapon. She knew she hadn’t done anything to give her position away, but she was on a boat in the middle of the night just idling. If someone was looking for a threat and saw her boat, they would automatically be suspicious. It was too dark for her to make out the individual’s features, but by the bulk of the figure she could tell the person who’d been looking in her direction had been male. Instead of securing the rifle, she propped it up next to the wheel and slowly reversed the Hatteras. Once she was closer to Hibiscus Island and out of the line of sight, she turned her lights back on and revved the engine.

Unless the person she’d seen had been using high-powered binoculars she doubted they’d witnessed anything useful. But a boat idling in the water near a home that was now under tight security was reason enough to be curious. Seemed that a hit from the water wasn’t an option—unless she did it in the middle of the day with the help of a huge distraction. But that meant she’d have a very dicey escape. Instead she’d try for one of Christiansen’s upcoming meetings.

And she knew exactly how to get in. Her client wouldn’t like it, but he was going to help her with this next step.



* * * * *



Iris’s shoes were silent against the kitchen tile as she entered the Tuscan-themed kitchen. She and her team had secured the house and swept it twice for bugs and explosives residue. The home had already been searched before they arrived, but she liked to be thorough. And this time she was being extra careful because it was Wyatt. Extra security was stationed outside the house and would remain there all night. Normally she would take the first night shift since she was team leader for this detail, but Wyatt had two important meetings tomorrow and he wanted her with him at both of them. If she was being honest, she wanted to be at them too. Despite her resolve to resist him, she loved being near him. The thought of seeing him in action when he was negotiating was a little hot.

“There’s a boat idling in the bay maybe half a mile out. Lights are off,” Vincent said in her earpiece. Like Wyatt’s guard, Jay, Vincent had been a SEAL too, but he’d been with a different team and had gone through BUDs years after Jay had gotten out so the two men didn’t know one another.

The house was situated on the water so boat traffic was to be expected—but a moving vessel with no lights at this time of night was odd. She started to respond when Vincent’s words stopped her. “Never mind, they’re leaving.”

That didn’t mean anything. “Keep an eye on the waterfront.” Someone could try to infiltrate the premises that way. It would be difficult, but Iris wanted to be prepared for all scenarios.

After he signed off Iris opened the stainless steel refrigerator she could easily fit in. She was headed to Wyatt’s room before she went to bed, but she was starving and didn’t want to face him on an empty stomach. There was a lot of food, but everything would have to be cooked. Ugh, no thanks.

When she tried the pantry she grinned. She found graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows and a box of unopened Hershey’s chocolate bars. Oh yeah, Wyatt had been prepared for her. Her favorite late night snack was placing the trio together into a s’more and melting them in the microwave. Not exactly healthy but she didn’t care. Food in hand, she turned and yelped to find Wyatt standing in the entryway—looking a lot more delicious than what was in her hands.

She’d forgotten how quiet he could be when he wanted and she hated that he could sneak up on her.

“Everything okay?” Vincent asked in her ear.

Eyes fixed on Wyatt, she said, “Yeah, I’m in the kitchen and Wyatt’s with me. I’m going radio silent.” Without waiting for a response, she turned off her earpiece and put it in her pocket. For a live-in job she was technically never off-duty except when she was sleeping. Not even then really. But she wasn’t sleeping with her earpiece in and right now the ‘client’ was in front of her so she didn’t need to worry about keeping tabs on him.

Wyatt shoved his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the doorframe. His plain T-shirt molded to the cut lines and striations of his upper arms. “Late night snack?” he murmured, seduction in his voice.

Iris wasn’t sure how he could make such a simple question sound dirty, but the man pulled it off.

Throat tight, she nodded. “Yeah.” He’d been quiet for most of the drive to his house, then when they’d arrived he’d had to take a phone call. Since she’d been busy securing his home they’d barely said two words to each other.

His dark hair was damp and slicked back—which meant he’d probably just had a shower. He wouldn’t have taken one in the master bathroom because she hadn’t found something to cover those windows yet. Right now her thoughts were more on what he’d looked like naked probably ten minutes ago as hot water pulsed over his muscular body. She could actually picture the steam rising up around his ripped, perfect body. They’d made love in the shower so many times that even the thought of him in one made her nipples tighten.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured, stepping into the big pantry. When he pulled the door shut behind him, alarm jumped inside her.

Not that he’d hurt her, but close quarters with him spelled trouble. She set the foodstuff down on one of the shelves. “I’m thinking you better open that door.” Instead of trying to move past him, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to comply.

His sinful lips just curved up in an almost mocking expression. “You owe me a conversation.”

“And you want to have it in here?” She didn’t want to have it anywhere. Not while she was working, but that was one concession she would have to give him.

He shrugged those broad shoulders, drawing her gaze to them. She couldn’t help but undress him with her eyes, remembering every hot inch of his naked body. Unfortunately he knew what she was doing.

“All you have to do is ask and I’ll take my clothes off.”

Iris gritted her teeth, hating that she was so transparent to him. She ignored the statement. “You want to talk, I’m here.”

“I don’t want a divorce,” he said quietly. At the familiar words, she opened her mouth but he cut her off with a shake of his head, his expression determined. “It’s my turn to talk. Do I like that your job puts you in danger almost every day? No. Do I want you to have to work? No. But does that mean we can’t make this work? Hell no.” Wyatt took a step closer, his large body crowding her in the small enclosure. When he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close, she fought to breathe.

His familiar scent intoxicated her, making her light-headed. “I love my job, Wyatt. And I’ll never be what you need. We’ve been friends for a long time.” Longer than she wanted to think about. He was the only person she still kept in touch with from their rural Georgia hometown. After her mom had died, she’d had no ties left to it.

Except Wyatt.

And up until last month when they’d got freaking married, they’d talked on the phone pretty much every week. Both their schedules kept them busy and on the road, but they’d always made time for each other. Her feelings for him ran so deep it scared her. “But you made it pretty damn clear that you expected me to quit my job and live with you wherever that might be.” She had nothing against stay-at-home wives and moms, some of her best friends were, but she couldn’t do that. Still, there was more to her running away from him—even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud.

His fingers flexed possessively on her hips and she tried to ignore the fluttering in her belly. Damn him for his effect on her. “I said that in the heat of the moment. We both struggled growing up and I just…I made a stupid assumption that was obviously wrong.”

“But it’s what you want.” She placed her hands on his chest, intending to get him to back up a step, but her fingers curled against his soft T-shirt. Lord, she was weak where he was concerned.

His jaw tightened before he answered. “I want you safe.”

Okay, not exactly an answer. And he knew better than most that no one was truly safe. She was highly capable and trained, just like him. “I’m not going to change who I am or what I do to fit some mold.”

“I’m not asking you to. I just want you to give us a chance. If we end up not being able to live with each other, we part ways.” The determined glint in his eyes told her he’d never be satisfied until he’d completely claimed every single part of her heart.

She’d managed to keep some control where he was concerned but the truth was, she was terrified that he would discover she wasn’t what he wanted, and then he’d walk away from her. Leaving her heart in shattered pieces. And there would never be anyone else for her. She realized that on a fundamental level. He knew everything about where she came from. They’d both grown up in the poverty bracket, though at least her mother had always put food on the table and kept a clean house. He’d tried to be her defender from the time they were ten years old—though occasionally she’d punched a few kids for giving him a hard time. He just made her feel safe, like she’d come home. So if he rejected her once he realized she wasn’t going to turn into someone better suited for his lifestyle…she couldn’t even think about what that would do to her. Running from him had been total cowardice, but she’d been the one in the driver’s seat—in control. Now there was no escaping him. Not when he was standing right in front of her. “What exactly do you want?”

“A trial period. We live together and act like we’re f*cking married.” His expression dark, his grip tightened again and that possessive look on his face turned her resolve to mush.

Iris swallowed hard and even though she worried she’d live to regret her decision, she nodded slowly. “Okay…but only after this job.” She had no clue how long it would end up being.

He got this triumphant look on his face, but before he could speak she pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m serious. I’ve still got a job to do. That doesn’t change. You’re in danger and I know I should step down as team leader because I’m emotionally invested, but I’m not going to. No one will protect you more than I can and I’m not leaving your side until this threat is eliminated. Whether I’m team leader or not, I’m glued to you.” Wyatt was just as trained as she was and was more than capable of protecting himself, but in a situation like this he needed to be focused on his job. Not worrying about people out to kill him.

She knew Wyatt wanted to argue, could see it in his eyes, but he held back. Okay, that said something all by itself. Internally, she let out a sigh of relief that this wouldn’t turn into an argument.

“Then you’re definitely sleeping in my—our—bed.” The triumphant look was back, all smug and masculine. Pure Wyatt.

Iris didn’t bother fighting her smile. “Is that all you ever think about?”

“Since we were fifteen.”

She blinked at his bold statement, taken completely off guard by the raw honesty of his words. He didn’t give her a chance to speak, just closed the distance between them in seconds. Before she realized what he intended his mouth was on hers, but rather than devour her, his kisses were soft and sweet. She could feel the pent up energy thrumming through him, despite the show of gentleness.

Her fingers curled against his chest as need swept through her like a tidal wave. He tensed, his body going rigid as her fingers tightened, but he kept up those sweet kisses. When they’d fallen into bed the first time over a month ago, things had been intense. Wyatt wasn’t a soft or romantic man. While he was incredibly giving as a lover, he was so rough around the edges. Of course she wouldn’t want him any other way, but right now his tenderness was freaking her out a little.

Hot, sweaty sex she could deal with. Hell, she craved it from him. This slowness…she didn’t know what to do with it. One of his hands slowly slid up her body, skating over her waist, arm and shoulder before he threaded his fingers through her hair. His hold wasn’t tight, but caressing as his tongue danced against hers.

Iris wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but he had her feeling edgy and impatient. Sliding one hand down his chest and taut stomach, she didn’t stop until she reached the button of his pants. He’d changed out of his typical suit and now wore a comfortable T-shirt and jeans. She started to work the button free, but he pulled back.

His pale eyes appeared darker in the dim lighting of the pantry and his breathing was rough, uneven. He swallowed once as he stared at her. “No.”

She blinked, not sure if she understood. Since she didn’t trust her voice, she slid her hand down until she cupped his erection over his jeans.

He let out a pained sound. “Not…right now. Let me take this slow.”

Still unsure exactly what he meant, she slid her hand back up and linked her fingers together behind his neck. “How slow?” she murmured, loving the feel of her body pressed up against his. No matter what, her attraction to him was potent. It had always been there, lingering between them, but once they’d kissed, things had turned flammable in an instant. There had been no going back.

“I’m going to get you off with just my fingers,” he rasped out before dipping his head until his teeth and stubble rasped against her neck.

She arched into him, wanting to tell him to stop simply because they were in a pantry that wasn’t exactly private, but also wanting him to do exactly what he said. A month of using her hand and fantasizing about him was nothing compared to how he could pleasure her. She wouldn’t mind him using his mouth too. Iris’s nipples tingled with anticipation as Wyatt’s hand teased the hem of her button-down black blouse. With impressive speed, he deftly pulled all the buttons free.

Looking down at her chest, he slowly peeled the shirt open. Even though she hadn’t planned on anything, she’d worn one of the few non-utilitarian bras she owned. Black and purple lace covered her breasts, but left little to the imagination. It had been a gift from Wyatt, but he hadn’t seen her in it yet. By the look of pure hunger on his face, he certainly liked what he saw.

“You like the gift?” When he met her gaze there was a trace of uncertainty in his eyes, surprising her.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her wearing it yet. She nodded, wanting to reassure him. Any sort of vulnerability from him shredded her. “I love it.”

He watched her then for a long moment and she forced herself not to squirm under that intense scrutiny.

Finally he spoke, taking her off guard with his raw sensuality. “I want to feel you coming around my fingers, then my tongue.” His words sounded starkly over pronounced in the small enclosure. He couldn’t even tear his gaze away from her breasts and she couldn’t seem to stop her erratic breathing.

Having his laser-like focus on her always made her weak in the knees. As his words penetrated the haze in her mind she wanted to shout that she wanted that too. She’d missed the feel of him teasing and stroking her to orgasm with nothing but his mouth and fingers—and she really missed doing the same to him. In the bedroom they never had any communication problems. He leaned down, his tongue skimming the top lace of the demi cup. “Wyatt—”

Panic slammed into her sharp and steady as she heard the jingle of the door handle. Iris shoved him to the side as the pantry door swung open. The only reason he moved so easily was because she’d taken him off guard and put a lot of force behind her push. He tipped off balance, cursing as he slammed into the shelves and knocked over cans of something. She ignored him and withdrew her weapon. A second later she slightly relaxed to find Ellie, Wyatt’s assistant, standing there. Her dark brown eyes widened as she stared down the barrel of the gun. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish a few times before Iris quickly sheathed her weapon behind her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wyatt putting his own gun up. He might have security but he still protected himself. Something she found incredibly hot.

She inwardly cursed her shaking hands. Beyond embarrassed by her behavior, she wanted to kick her own ass. Yes, she might be ‘technically’ off duty right now, but if they were going to fool around, she should be upstairs behind a closed door with Wyatt. Not here right out in the open.

“I, uh, was just…” Ellie’s cheeks flushed bright pink, the color stark against her ivory skin.

Wyatt growled in annoyance as more things toppled to the floor behind them. “Did you need something from in here?” Iris asked with the little bit of normalcy she could muster.

The color in the woman’s cheeks deepened and she glanced off to the side and took a step back. “No, I need Mr. Christiansen for a call from London and he wasn’t answering his cell. I thought I heard someone in here but didn’t, uh…I can just come back.” She took another step back and Iris realized her top was still undone.

“Yes, why don’t you.” Wyatt bit out.

“No!” Avoiding his gaze, Iris started buttoning her top. “Ellie, if you need him, he’s all yours. We were just…” She had no idea how to finish that sentence without sounding like a jackass so she cleared her throat. “Wyatt, I’ll see you upstairs later.” Still ignoring him, she hurried out of the room. He snapped something at Ellie, making Iris cringe that he was taking his frustration out on his assistant, but she didn’t slow down.

She’d fought long and hard to be treated equally in this field. First, as a Marine she’d had to make it clear to pretty much every man she’d ever worked alongside that she wasn’t free to f*ck. She’d had a job to do and sex always complicated everything. During her time in the Marines she’d practically lived like a nun. When she’d started with Red Stone she hadn’t had to fend off any unwanted advances, but she had needed to prove herself harder than any man did simply because of her gender.

One night under the same roof with Wyatt and she was acting like an idiot, threatening to compromise all the years of work it had taken her to gain that hard-won respect. They needed to get back on even footing and she had to make it clear that during the day or while she was working, no kissing and certainly no sex. Once they were in bed, however, was a different story. She had no idea if she wanted to stay married, but her feelings for him certainly hadn’t changed. They likely never would. When she’d been in the Marines they’d stayed in touch via emails, but once she’d gotten out and taken her job with Red Stone, they’d picked up right where they’d left off as teenagers. For the past two years she’d looked forward to those weekly phone calls with Wyatt more than she’d admit.

When he’d proposed getting married in Vegas—after the most intense night of sex she’d ever had—the part of herself she’d kept hidden from everyone had jumped at his offer. He’d never actually said the words ‘I love you’, but then again, neither had she. Hell, she’d never had anyone say them to her. Even thinking the words felt foreign. But deep down, she knew what she felt for him was love.