Edge was a huge man with strong features. His ears had the beginnings of the cauliflower ears a.s.sociated with boxers or mixed martial artists. His nose had a slight b.u.mp that told her he'd likely broken it at least once. He had dark eyes and hair that hung to the tops of his shoulders.

Her gaze drifted to Swanny. Quiet and observant. He had a scar down one side of his face that ended right at the corner of his mouth. It was as if someone had taken a knife and slashed open the side of his face. The scar was puckered, the ridges uneven as if he'd simply been sewn back together with little care for his appearance.

She wondered what had happened and how he'd gotten such a terrible injury.

As if sensing her scrutiny, his gaze found hers and he turned the scarred side of his face away from her. He did that often. She'd noticed when he caught her looking he always turned the scarred side of his face away. As if he were self-conscious about his appearance.

He fascinated her and she couldn't pinpoint why exactly. He wasn't handsome in a cla.s.sic sense. But he had strong features and a rugged quality that appealed to her feminine instincts. He was a man who had complete honor. She was positive of it. Of all the team members of KGI, it was Swanny she put her trust in most, and d.a.m.n if she knew why. As she studied him harder, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was attracted to him. s.e.xually and emotionally, which was pretty stupid considering that (A) she was a job to him and (B) they'd only just met. He likely thought she was crazy staring at him all the time. She'd be mortified if he took her interest as merely gawking at his scars, like a train wreck she couldn't turn away from.

In her job she was surrounded by men most women would consider gorgeous and yet she found them too pretty. Too . . . perfect.

Swanny's gaze swung to her as if sensing her prolonged perusal and for a moment he held her gaze, returning it in equal measure. Faint heat flooded her cheeks but she couldn't make herself look away. His eyes mesmerized her, his gaze seeking as if he could see into the heart of her. She hoped she wasn't obvious in her attraction.

He averted his gaze first, turning away. Disappointment seeped into her chest because she'd seen no sign that he returned her attraction. Just a steady gaze, returning her study in kind. He probably thought she was some brazen hussy on the make.

She turned when she heard the local news break in with a special report. The entire group stopped what they were doing and listened intently as the reporter spoke in rapid tones.

There'd been another shooting, and a suspect was in custody. She caught her father's look of surprise and frowned. Before she could remark, her cell phone rang and she glanced down to see an unknown number on the screen.

Remembering that she'd given the detective her number, she hit the b.u.t.ton to accept the call and brought the phone to her ear.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Miss Sinclair?"

"Yes, this is she."

"This is Detective Barnes. I wanted to let you know that another shooting occurred this morning."

"Yes, I just saw it on the news," she said. "They reported that a suspect is in custody."

The detective muttered a curse that sounded suspiciously like "f.u.c.king reporters" and then, "Yes, we do have a suspect in custody, but this is a slam dunk. I wanted to let you know so you didn't worry further. We apprehended the shooter and he confessed to yesterday's shooting as well. I can't go into further detail, but I thought you should know so you can rest easy now."

"Thank you for calling," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Take care."

She ended the call and looked up to see every single person staring at her expectantly.

"That was Detective Barnes," she said. "He confirmed they have a suspect in custody and a confession for yesterday's shooting."

The result was complete silence as everyone exchanged glances, as if they didn't know what to say.

"So, um, I guess all of this is unnecessary," she said, gesturing toward the members of KGI.

"I disagree," Raid said firmly.

Her eyes widened. "But they've arrested the shooter and it obviously wasn't personal."

"I'd feel better if KGI accompanied you to Paris," her father said, a stubborn set to his face.

Her eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me?"

Ryker slid his arm around her shoulders. "Cut us some slack, Eden. You were almost killed. It would make us all feel better if you had tighter security for your Paris shoot. Besides, they're already here and plans are in place."

"Lay off the emotional blackmail," she muttered. "Raid has already poured it on thick enough."

Her father walked over to her and framed her shoulders in his hands, his expression serious. "Do this for me, Eden. Please. I'd sleep better if I knew you had the best protecting you."

She heaved a heavy sigh. "Okay, okay, whatever. But I'm going on record that this is totally unnecessary."

"Miss Sinclair."

Startled, she swung her gaze up to look at Swanny, who'd spoken her name softly.

"I think it is necessary," he continued. "You're already all over the news as having been involved in yesterday's shooting. There are hundreds of crazy-a.s.s people out there, and the likelihood of a copycat is possible. You should absolutely tighten your security for the next while at least. Wait for things to calm down. You can't take this too lightly."

The rest of the group looked as surprised as she was that he'd said so much. There was a firmness to his voice that told her he was absolutely serious.

"He's right," Raid said grimly.

She held up her hands in surrender. "I already said I would go along with it."

"But you have to take it seriously," Swanny said. "Which means you do what we tell you and don't resist. Our job is to keep you safe, and we can't do that without your full cooperation."

She blinked but held his gaze, warmth invading her veins as he stared intently at her. This time he didn't avert the side of his face. He looked at her almost challengingly, daring her to look away first.

"You'll find I'm not a difficult person," she said softly.

Swanny grimaced. "I didn't mean to imply that you were. If I did, then I apologize."

She shook her head. "No, no offense taken. I just want you to know that I'm not some spoiled diva who throws a tantrum if I don't get my way. I'll cooperate fully. I don't want to make your jobs harder."

"We appreciate that, Miss Sinclair," Joe interjected.

"Please, call me Eden," she said, sweeping the entire group with her gaze, including them all in her request.

"All right, Eden," Swanny said.

It did funny things to her stomach to hear her name on his lips. She broke his gaze and looked to her father, sure that her cheeks were flush with color. The last thing she wanted was to be obvious. Or come across as desperate.

"When do we leave?" she asked, to cover the awkwardness.

Joe took over then, briskly telling her of the arrangements that had been made. It awed her that they could pull something together this quickly. They were, in fact, taking this very seriously, and for the first time, she felt a kernel of unease. What if they were right? What if some idiot decided to take a shot at her now that she was splashed all over the news?

"We'll see you off and then catch a flight back home," Raid said. "I have to be back to work, but we expect you to check in with us often and if anything happens, we want to know about it immediately."

Eden nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. Everyone was acting as if it were a foregone conclusion that something would happen.

CHAPTER 9.

EDEN relaxed in the back of the jet, curling her feet underneath her as she leaned against the arm of the couch. The others were still up front in their seats, but she'd retreated to the back as soon as they'd taken off.

She didn't like the fear that gripped her. That wasn't the way she lived her life. Always fearing the worst in others. Her fame hadn't changed her, at least she didn't think so. Underneath the glamour was still the same girl she'd always been.

Her father and brothers kept her grounded. Even if she'd tried to become someone she wasn't or let her fame go to her head, they would have reined her in quickly.

A noise alerted her that she was no longer alone, and she swung her gaze upward to see Swanny standing in the entryway to the lounging area. He had an inquiring look on his face as he stared at her.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a quiet voice.

She stared back, drinking in his appearance. Then she nodded and gestured to the s.p.a.ce next to her on the couch. "Sit, please. I'd like the company."

He hesitated and then to her disappointment, he sank into one of the armchairs catty-corner to the sofa.

"I figured you didn't want company since you came back here right after takeoff," he said.

She lifted one shoulder into a shrug. "It's not that. I just don't know any of y'all and this all came out of the blue for me. I actually don't like being alone and in fact I rarely am. When I'm not working, I go home and stay with Dad and spend time with him and my brothers."

"You keep pretty busy, it seems," Swanny said. "This Aria thing is a big deal for you, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It's a career high for me. It's a huge account and I had some stiff compet.i.tion. No way I'd miss it because some jerk went off his meds and started shooting at people."

A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. She noticed that on the scarred side, his upper lip didn't really move, resulting in sort of a half smile. It was a crooked grin she found endearing. She wondered if there had been nerve damage, resulting in the inability to move that corner of his mouth.

And then she wondered how it would feel to kiss him. To have that mouth on her skin. Betraying heat crept up her neck and she forced her thoughts back to the mundane. The curse of having fair skin was that she blushed vividly.

"I don't want you to worry, Eden," Swanny said, his expression growing serious once more. "We'll make sure nothing hurts you. It's what we do. And not to discount the importance of this mission, but we've faced a h.e.l.l of a lot worse."

She c.o.c.ked her head to the side. "Is that what I am? A mission?"

He looked surprised by her question, and as if only just realizing that he was completely facing her, he turned his scarred cheek away from her, presenting his profile.

"Why do you do that?" she asked softly.

His brow furrowed and he turned slightly in her direction once more. "Do what?"

"Turn away from me so I won't see your scar."

He looked surprised at her bluntness, and he went silent for a long moment.

"It's habit," he admitted.

"It doesn't bother me," she said, eager to ease his self-consciousness around her. "And if it bothers other people, that's their problem, not yours. If they judge you because of your scars, then they're a.s.sholes who don't deserve your respect or your regard."

He laughed, startling her with the rumbling sound that welled from his chest. The lines around his eyes eased and his gaze lightened to one of amus.e.m.e.nt.

He fingered the scar absently and then dropped his hand.

"Does it still hurt you?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Only the memories."

He looked immediately chagrined, as if he regretted sharing something so personal with her. But she was delighted that he was actually talking to her. A real conversation that didn't revolve around the job he was hired for.

"How did it happen?"

He paused a long moment, shadows chasing away the lightness in his eyes. Then he expelled a long breath and sat forward in his chair, seemingly ill at ease.

"If I'm prying too much, just tell me to mind my own business," she said quickly. "It's not morbid curiosity. I'd like to know more about you . . ."

She trailed off before she said something really stupid, like that she was fantasizing about his mouth on hers and tracing the lines of that scar with her own fingers. She wanted to soothe away any lingering pain, though it sounded ridiculous that she could offer him anything at all.

"On our last tour, Nathan and I and a few more from our team were captured. We had split off from Joe and his team. They got out. We didn't. We spent months being tortured and starved before we were rescued."

He put his fingers back to the scar. "They carved me and Nate both up, and they did this. By the time we got out and to a hospital, there was little they could do except patch it up the best they could. They said I could see a plastic surgeon, but I opted not to. It's a reminder."

He went silent again, a faraway look in his eyes as if he were back there in h.e.l.l and not here.

She slid to the end of the couch so not much s.p.a.ce separated them. Tentatively, she reached out and put her hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

He flinched, sucking in his breath, his eyes suddenly glittering with fire. Her pulse ratcheted up several beats because she realized he wasn't unaware of the chemistry between them.

"How is it a reminder?" she prompted gently.

"That I was a victim and I'll never be a victim again," he said simply.

"It's not ugly," she said in a sincere voice. "It's a mark of courage. Of survival. I think you're beautiful."

He reared back his head, surprise flaring in his eyes. He stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Beautiful?" he said hoa.r.s.ely. "You're beautiful. Not me."

She leaned in, knowing she was being bold-too bold-but she simply couldn't resist showing him with more than words that his scar didn't put her off in the least. She cupped his face and slid her fingers down the puckered ridges.

He flinched and tried to withdraw but she leaned farther, following him back as she continued her gentle exploration.

"I disagree," she murmured. "I think you're beautiful. Strong. A warrior. Your scar is a badge of honor. You forget, my father and brothers served in either the military or the police force. They have scars. They don't bother me in the least."

Swanny looked at a complete loss for words, but he remained frozen in place. Then he leaned slightly into the palm of her hand as if he enjoyed her touch.