Driving Force. Elle James

to the lowest deck she could go. Then she dodged between containers in the hull until she found a dark corner near the back. Hunkering low and pressing her body against a container, she prayed they would finish loading soon and leave port.

      She must have fallen asleep while waiting. When she woke, the ship rocked gently beneath her, the rumble of an engine letting her know they were underway.

      For more than a week, she rationed her food, sneaked into the galley in the middle of the night and scrounged for food and water. Like a rat lining her nest, she found a blanket and a pillow in a closet near to the crew’s quarters. In the middle of the night, she used the facilities, and though she didn’t feel she could linger long enough for a shower, she did manage to clean up, using a washrag and a towel.

      The long journey across the water took ten long days. She filled her days trying to learn more about the ship and where it was going. Remaining undetected became a game she got very good at.

      When she ventured out of her dark hole into some light, she studied the tattoo on her wrist, recognizing the squiggly lines as numbers in Hebrew. The more she contemplated them, the more her gut told her they were a set of coordinates.

      When the ship finally pulled into port, she’d determined they were docking at one near Norfolk, Virginia.

      As soon as she was able to sneak away, she walked into town and bought a T-shirt from a tourist vendor and jeans from a used clothing consignment store, using money she’d pilfered from workers on the ship. She ditched her uniform in a trash can and tugged on the tee and jeans in an alley. From there, she quickly found a library with computers and keyed in the numbers to find the coordinates. She learned the street address and searched county tax records to discover who lived at that street address.

      A Charlotte Halverson lived there, and from the satellite street view of the location, the Halverson estate was a veritable fortress. If she wanted to get to Charlotte Halverson, she’d have to scale a wall, fight her way past security and possibly guard dogs. And for what? To tell a woman who likely didn’t know her that she’d found her because of the GPS coordinates tattooed to her wrist?

      A quick check on who exactly Charlotte Halverson was didn’t make her feel any better about trespassing on the woman’s property. She was a very wealthy widow, who employed a number of bodyguards, based on the photos of her attending various events in the DC area.

      In fact, one news article reported she was scheduled to attend an upcoming charity ball at one of the swanky hotels in DC.

      Getting past a stone wall and guard dogs might be extremely difficult, but she damn well could get past the security at a hotel. The event was the next night. That gave her a day and a half to get from Norfolk to DC and find her way into that hotel to get an audience with Ms. Halverson.

      She prayed the woman could help her solve the mystery of just who the heck she was.

       Chapter Two

      “I don’t need more than two bodyguards inside the hotel at the Hope for Children Gala.” Charlotte Halverson, the wealthy widow of a renowned philanthropist, settled a white faux-fur shrug over her shoulders and straightened the diamond necklace around her throat. “The hotel is providing tight security. Apparently, there will be a number of celebrities in attendance for the tenth anniversary of the organization.”

      “What does Hope for Children do?” Augustus “Gus” Walsh asked as he fought with the bow tie that matched the tuxedoes Charlie insisted both her bodyguards wear for the event.

      “They raise awareness and help combat human trafficking of children.”

      Gus was all for putting a stop to selling children into slavery. He’d seen too many atrocities toward children during his deployments as a Force Reconnaissance marine in the Middle East where little girls of six and seven years of age were married off to grown men.

      His stomach clenched at the thought of what those little girls endured. But tonight was about glitz and glamour. Yeah, he would be completely out of his element. Give him an M4A1 rifle, camouflage paint and a mission to take out some terrorists and he would be more comfortable. Dressed in a black tuxedo that made him look like a really tall penguin with his face shaved to within an inch of his life, he wasn’t feeling it. And the damned tie...

      “Here, let me.” The team’s benefactor, Charlotte Halverson, didn’t ask them to play bodyguard to her very often, but when she did, she wanted them to blend in, not stick out. Thus, the tuxedo at a black-tie event. The older woman tugged and pulled at the bow tie until she was satisfied. Then she patted his cheek with a smile. “You look magnificent.” She turned her smile to the team leader, Declan O’Neill. “Both of you look wonderful. I’ll be the envy of the ball. The gossiping old biddies will be jealous that I have two very handsome men escorting me.” She winked. “We don’t have to tell anyone that you’re my bodyguards. Although, I’m sure they’ll figure that out.” Charlie chuckled. “I haven’t gone to many galas since my husband’s death, but this is one I can’t miss. This organization meant a lot to John. He would want me to continue to support their efforts.”

      “We don’t mind going. You’ve done so much for our group we can’t begin to repay you,” Declan said. He hadn’t had any difficulties at all with his tie. He stood straight and tall in his tuxedo like he owned it, though it was rented.

      “Oh, shush. You and your men are helping me realize a dream. One my husband had, as well. What you’ve done so far to help others is phenomenal. Declan’s Defenders is exactly what I’d hoped for. I’m just sorry I’m using you for bodyguard duty tonight.”

      “Since we aren’t otherwise assigned, we’re glad to do it. Heck, we’re glad to do it anytime.” Declan lifted her hand and stood back. “You look stunning.”

      Charlie’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you. We should get going. Arnold is chauffeuring us tonight. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

      Gus followed Charlie and Declan out of the widow’s mansion to the waiting limousine. Mack Balkman would lead in a dark SUV and Jack Snow would follow to make sure nothing happened on their way to the Mayflower Hotel.

      Charlie had already been the target of a kidnapping attempt in DC. Declan had been there when it happened and saved her from being taken. That incident had led to all six of the former Force Recon team being employed, forming Declan’s Defenders.

      The timing could not have been better. After being processed out of the marines with dishonorable discharges for disobeying a direct order, they’d been basically unemployable and out on the streets. Charlie had given them jobs and hope.

      Gus would do anything for that woman. Including dressing up in a tuxedo to go to a black-tie gala in DC. She’d saved them all from being homeless veterans living on the streets.

      Forty minutes later, after navigating traffic into the downtown district, they arrived at the Mayflower and handed off their vehicles to the valet. Gus and Declan would go inside with Charlie, while Mack, Snow and Arnold guarded the outside perimeter.

      Gus counted four guards at the entrance to the hotel. A red carpet had been rolled out for the arriving guests. Ahead of them, reporters leaned over the cordon ribbon to snap pictures of a pop rock singing sensation who’d brought her latest boyfriend to the event.

      Charlie waited for the young woman and her date to move on before she moved closer.

      As before, the reporters leaned over the tape and snapped photos of Charlie, one of the city’s leading benefactors. Gus understood that in DC, Charlie was as much of a celebrity as the singer. She and her husband had given so much to many of the nonprofits and helped hospitals and communities with their generosity.

      Gus stood beside her, trying not to blink at every camera flash, watching the crowds for anyone who might pose a threat to his boss.

      Behind them, another limousine pulled up. The reporters