Chapter Two

There wasn’t a thing Blake Monroe wouldn’t do for Jackson. Unfortunately, his best bud recognized that fact, even though Blake planned to spend most of his four weeks of leave building a wall unit for his mother’s apartment and making small repairs around the place. The fact that his mom had pretty much told him to go away because she had a chemistry exam to study for and a human physiology paper to write? Well, that only added salt to the wound.

Which meant Blake was free, as far as Jackson was concerned—never mind the concert tickets he’d given up to go on this trip—so Blake was now set to protect Jackson’s little sister as she traipsed through Europe then safely deliver her back to Seattle in twelve days.

He shook his head. For all their wealth, her parents didn’t travel anywhere that required stepping foot onto an airplane, which meant Zandra knew little about domestic travel, let alone traveling internationally. At least she’d been smart enough to recognize it and accepted her brother’s help. And now Blake would be taking his place.

Consider it a mission, Jackson had said.

Blake took missions very seriously. Jackson knew that, too.

He glanced at the wide-eyed look Zandra cast his direction, along with the phone she held pointed at him, and blew out a breath. For once it’d be nice if she’d put the damn thing away and quit curating every move she made like it was a huge part of history. Why she felt her life had to be an open book was beyond him.

By the time he reached her, she’d ditched the phone, tucking it into the front pocket of her long T-shirt, if you could even call it that. The shirt hung down just low enough to cover half her thighs and exposed long, cream-colored legs, yet it was enough to make a guy wonder what was underneath it.

God knew Blake had been guilty of wondering since coming back to Seattle on leave. Sometime over the years, Zandra had grown from a scrawny girl in braces into one hell of a gorgeous woman. She’d filled out in all the right places and…

Whoa. What the hell was he doing? Zandra York was off-limits—for obvious reasons. Not the least of which being that she was his best friend’s little sister.

“Blake,” she said, pushing off from the wall and looking past his left shoulder. “Where’s Jackson?”

“Well, hello to you, too, sunshine.”

She pursed her mouth into a thin line. “Sorry. Sleep deprived, and I wasn’t expecting you.” She peered around him. “This is a joke, isn’t it? Jackson’s hiding somewhere getting a hell of a laugh, right?”

Yeah, figured she’d see it that way. But given the pranks they’d pulled on her over the years, Blake wasn’t too surprised.

“He said he’d talk to you.” Actually, Jackson had said he’d try to talk with Zandra before he left for the field. “I take it that didn’t happen.”

He shifted the camera bag onto his other shoulder. If he’d had his way, he’d have shoved her gear into his backpack, but Jackson had warned him how touchy Zandra got when it came to her photography equipment.

“Nope.” She crossed her arms in front of her and stared at him. “I’m really too tired to play twenty questions. Just, please, tell me where Jackson is.”

He cleared his throat. “Remember that special assignment he was waiting to hear about? The one that he’d gotten clearance from so he could go with you on this trip?”

She blinked those pretty blue eyes. “Yes. He promised me it was a done deal.”

“His CO changed her mind.” Wouldn’t be the first time. The woman was badassed and took no prisoners when it came to advancing her career or the reputation of her team. Blake was just glad he trained Special Forces operatives and had a halfway decent Commanding Officer.

Zandra blew out a breath. “So, by now he’s somewhere halfway across the world.”

“Maybe. They don’t exactly disclose secret stuff like that.”

He rubbed his hands together and looked around. “So, world-famous photographer, you ready to grab your suitcase and head to Stuttgart?” He glanced at his watch. One thing he’d learned to bank on was the efficiency of the German train schedule. “The next train should be here in about an hour, just enough time to grab your stuff, clear customs, and get to the train station.”

She shook her head. “Wait. That’s it? Jackson’s not here, but you are, so we just go on our merry way? He asked you to stand in, didn’t he?”

“Yep. You got any other suggestions? This is your gig, after all.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I wouldn’t mind heading back to Seattle.” Even if his mother was too busy, there were still things he could fix around her apartment—like the leaky faucet she didn’t want to report for fear of her rent going up.

Zandra shook her head and pushed a lock of blonde hair out of her face, then she studied him a moment, those gorgeous eyes assessing. Damn, but he was tempted to return the favor. It was bad enough he’d noticed her legs at all.

“As. If,” she muttered like she’d read his mind. “I’ve been handed an opportunity, and I’m not walking away from it.”

Yeah, she’d sure changed from Jackson’s pesky little sister into one amazingly sexy, talented, intelligent woman. And if he knew what was good for him, Blake would back the hell off.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Maybe Zandra wasn’t the only one suffering from jet lag. His brain was definitely harder to control once it hit the Zandra zone.

“Let’s grab your suitcase.”

He led the way through the crowd, skirting past a family with three kids in a stroller and the poor bastard who was strapped down with bags as well as the cart that held a mound of suitcases. If the guy looked this defeated just starting his vacation, Blake hated to see what he’d look like after.

One thing was for sure, Blake wouldn’t fall into that trap anytime soon. He had huge life plans, ones that involved getting his mother through med school before he left the Army and settled down to start his own life trek.

Anything he went through until then was worth it, even spending the next week and a half babysitting Zandra. This was just another mission—nothing more. He needed to remember that every time his brain wanted to head down Zandra Lane and fantasize about all the ways she could wrap her legs around him.

Fuck. Blake gave himself a mental shake.

Special Forces training specialist my fucking ass. He had better focus than what he’d shown so far.

He sucked in a deep breath. Okay, time to regroup.

All he had to do was keep her safe and haul her shit around. He just hoped he could eventually convince himself of that.