Backstreet Hero. Justine Davis

and elegant grace, so opposite of his own down-home, laid-back demeanor. Hers, he had once said, masked a steely spine, boundless energy and whip-smart intelligence. She had simply looked at him, and in a deadly accurate imitation of his own lazy drawl, had said, “Back at you.”

      “You know,” he said now, with a casualness that warned her he was anything but, “I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when it comes to danger to my people.”

      Lilith’s brows rose. “Danger?”

      “Two narrow escapes in a week?”

      She chuckled. “That sounds so dramatic. I nearly had a traffic accident. And this morning I ran afoul of a child’s prank.”

      “Maybe.”

      “Coincidence, Josh.”

      “You know what Draven says about coincidence.”

      “Draven,” she said, “is a born cynic.” Then remembering how the Redstone Security chief had mellowed since his marriage to Grace O’Conner, she added, “At least, he was when he always used to say that.”

      “And now he’s more protective than ever. So when I tell him about this, he’s going to take appropriate action.”

      “Tell him? Why on earth?”

      “Because I don’t believe in coincidence, either. Not when one of my brightest and best has uncharacteristic ‘accidents.’”

      “Thank you for the compliment, but really—”

      Josh stopped her with an upheld hand. “No compliment, just truth. As is the fact that you’re going to have to tolerate a little attention for a while, until I’m sure this doesn’t mean anything.”

      “Mean anything? You mean like someone’s intentionally trying to hurt me?”

      She started to laugh even before she finished the words, but when Josh simply looked at her, his jaw set, realization struck and her laughter faded away.

      “Yes,” he finally said, his voice echoing with grim acknowledgment of what they both knew but she had managed to put out of her mind.

      There indeed was someone who could be trying to hurt her. Or even kill her.

      Because he’d tried it before.

Chapter 2

      Tony Alvera didn’t stop to knock on his boss’s door, any more than he had bothered to park his racy blue coupe in an allotted slot; he was in too much of a hurry. He knew he’d committed a breach of decorum when he realized John Draven was with someone in his small, efficiently organized office, but there were times when he reverted to his younger days of not caring about such things, and this was one of them.

      “Sorry,” he said perfunctorily, nodding at the woman in the office.

      Because he wasn’t really sorry, there wasn’t much sincerity in the apology, and Draven lifted a brow at him. Since it was the one already slightly twisted by the scar that slashed down the left side of his face, the look was even more intimidating.

      But Tony Alvera wasn’t a man who was easily intimidated.

      “I need to talk to you,” he said.

      “Taylor Hill,” Draven said mildly, “meet Tony Alvera. Pay attention, you may have to work with him someday. I hear it’s an adventure.”

      Tony had heard that Draven was bringing in someone new, to fill in now that Samantha Gamble, married to Redstone’s resident genius, Ian Gamble, was visibly pregnant. Sam might grumble about being tied to a desk, but her work instincts were trumped by newfound maternal ones, and she’d ruefully agreed that going into the field on assignments that could turn risky was not in her best interest just now.

      For a moment Tony thought of Ian, that brilliant, creative mind that had put Redstone on the map in so many new fields that not even Josh could keep track of them all. As had most at Redstone, Tony had marveled from the beginning at the unlikelihood of Ian and Sam’s relationship—the man some teasingly called the absentminded professor and the stunning, leggy blonde.

      He’d been even more bemused by the easy way Ian seemed to accept the differences between them, accept Sam’s sometimes dangerous job and the fact that she was one of the best at it. He often joked he was the brains while his wife was the brawn with brains. Tony wasn’t sure he could so blithely accept his woman working in a traditionally masculine role.

      At the same time, he utterly and totally respected Samantha Gamble and her skills and would gladly have her at his back in any tough situation. The conflict niggled at him, but he didn’t dwell on it much, preferring to see it as a hangover from days past that he tried not to think about. When he did think about them, it was usually with a rueful jab at himself and the street gang culture of machismo he’d grown up in.

      The woman in the office was standing now, studying him less than subtly as she held out a hand. He took it—her grip was solid but not overly so—and automatically assessed her in turn, a habit ingrained in him during his years with Redstone Security.

      Taylor Hill was an ordinary-looking woman, with straight, medium brown hair pulled back rather severely at the nape of her neck. She was average height and build, her features regular but not striking. She was neither unattractive nor beautiful, but fell in the unremarkable category.

      The perfect person for security work, Tony thought. She could probably blend in anywhere.

      “Nice to meet you,” she said politely, and his opinion suddenly changed. That low, husky voice would stand out in any man’s mind. And make him wonder, if she sounded like that now, what she might sound like in more intimate circumstances.

      But he had no time for speculating about other women at the moment.

      “You, too,” he replied, aware it was a disconnected nicety but unable to help it.

      “I was about to send Taylor off on her first assignment,” Draven said in a casually chatty manner completely unlike him. “Nothing like starting out doing a favor for Josh himself.”

      That snapped Tony to attention. Was there something else going on at Redstone besides what he’d come here about? “Josh has a problem?”

      “One of his people has a problem, so yes, you could say that.”

      Tony felt the adrenaline spurt ebb a little. He looked his boss in the eye, a task more easily said than done to almost anyone who had to deal with the steely, tough John Draven.

      “Lilith,” he said.

      Draven’s brow rose again. “You know?”

      “Beck,” he said briefly, knowing that would explain; Logan Beck, the newest—well, now apparently second newest—member of the security team, was engaged to Liana Kiley, Lilith Mercer’s assistant.

      He was also Tony’s partner in situations that required a twoman team; they’d worked well together on Logan’s case, and although he generally preferred to work alone—as did Logan—Tony was now amenable to the pairing when necessary.

      “I’ll handle it,” Tony said.

      Draven lifted a brow. “What?”

      “This one’s mine.” At Draven’s expression, Tony turned back to Taylor, who was watching this exchange curiously. “Would you excuse us for a minute, please?”

      The woman’s glance flicked to Draven, who, after a split second, gave her a barely perceptible nod. She didn’t miss the signal and left without a word.

      “She’s going to be good,” Draven said when Tony didn’t speak right away.

      “Yeah,” Tony muttered.

      He began to pace the small room. Now that he was here