Free Protector by Catherine Mann

even woken up with morning wood. Eventually, he’d had a girlfriend and a couple of flings. But things still weren’t right in his brain.
    What a helluva time to learn his libido at least was one hundred percent in working order.
    *  *  *
     
    Parked back beside Berg at the mobile command center, Rex couldn’t deny that his old habits were alive and well.
    Rex could almost hear his dead wife tsk-tsking at him for using work to avoid things he didn’t want to deal with. Countless times, Heather had walked up behind him at the computer and slipped his glasses off his face before sliding into his lap. Then she would work on providing ample distraction—
    His brain screeched to a halt on the thought. Yeah, hewas also trying to push away the feelings stirred by Livia by ramping up memories of Heather. Of how damn unfair it was that his wife had died of a heart attack at only forty-one years, for God’s sake. Normally, that offered the splash of ice water guilt he needed. For some reason, it wasn’t working so great tonight. The exotic scent of Mediterranean herbs and flowers— Livia’s perfume— lingered so tangibly he could almost swear it clung to his clothes the way she clung to his memory.
    And now he saw that she hadn’t stayed in her stateroom, damn it all. She’d returned to the casino for God only knew what reason. Livia always had done whatever the hell she wanted.
    He spotted a pair of their CIA compadres in the gambling crowd cruising the slot machines. Reassuring to know they had Livia’s back even when he couldn’t. There were far too many other eyes tracking her moves.
    She was beautiful, fascinating— and yeah, sexy as hell. He would have given his left nut to kiss her back in her suite. But she’d made it clear that she refused to compete with the memory of his dead wife and that time had passed for them. Which made him feel like a damn stalker watching footage of her when he really should turn in for the night.
    Past your bedtime, Grandpa?
    Not for the first time, the age difference pinched him. Hard. Those CIA agents in their prime were more her age. His knuckles cracked.
    He stared at his hands, surprised. When had he made a fist?
    “Something wrong, Colonel?” Berg asked, glancing over.
    “Nah, I’m good.” He forced his attention back to the present. “Is the listening chip Tanaka passed over to Jolynn Taylor working again?”
    “Seems to be, not that Chuck’s doing jack shit to pry any information out of her while driving back here.” Thumb scratching his mustache, Berg leaned back in the chair— and almost hit his head on the wall behind him in the narrow space. “It’s the damnedest thing. Signal shows it’s working fine, but there are strange stretches of silence. Actually more than silence. It’s as if the sound was flatlined by one of our own noise cancellation devices.”
    Confusion chewed his gut. He was sure, as absolutely certain as he could be, that Chuck was trustworthy. Hell, the man had passed the worst test imaginable at the hands of his captor, never breaking.
    What was he up to here?
    Rex scanned the split screen video on the multiple views inside the cruise ship, two dedicated to the outside, where the city was beginning to shut down for the night. The skyline glowed at half power.
    Although the parking lot stayed well lit. Feed showed Chuck walking past security with Jolynn Taylor. Nothing appeared wrong with Chuck…
    But Ms. Taylor? Something was definitely off as she charged two steps ahead.
    What had gone on during those noncomm minutes? Chuck himself had said he feared his edge was gone. For the first time, Rex questioned himself. Straight up, he felt guilty as hell for what had happened to Chuck. While he couldn’t have done anything to prevent it, the kidnapping had happened on his watch as commander. Had he chosen Chuck for this mission just to prove to himself the past was behind them?
    If so, he would have failed Chuck again.
    Rex shot to his feet.