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He hesitated to tell her the truth. His past was something he tried to keep in a box with a tight lid. “His name is Roshan Haider. He’s angry because his sister joined the Taliban and died in a Coalition operation against a Taliban stronghold. He’s gotten it into his head that British forces are to blame for her death.”
That was the official story. The words were bile in his mouth. “He must have seen us together, maybe at the gallery reception on Friday, and assumed...” Lachlan didn’t finish the sentence. If Haider had seen their kiss outside Sophia’s condominium, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what he assumed.
Sophia took up where he left off. “He assumed you and I are in a relationship.”
He wanted to smooth the worry creasing her forehead, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her again. Adrenaline and the need to protect her gripped him hard when what he needed was a clear head.
“Why is he angry with you?” Understanding lit her gaze. “British forces. You were involved somehow.”
“She was our translator.” Sophia didn’t need to know the entire sordid story. He wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes again if she did.
“Should we call the police?” Her teeth captured her lower lip again. If she didn’t stop, he would liberate the plump flesh with his own lips and nip it himself. Only he wouldn’t stop with just a taste.
“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with Haider.” His fingers curled into fists. He was going to track down the bastard and make him regret involving Sophia in his vendetta.
Her eyes widened. “Now I see it. In your eyes.” Her voice was a hushed whisper.
“See what?”
“The SAS guy.”
His throat tightened. “This is who I am, Sophia. Better you find out now. But I promise you, Roshan Haider will never get that close to you again.”
His past wouldn’t threaten her.
He’d make sure of it.
Lachlan pulled out his mobile the second Sophia left his office after promising him she wouldn’t leave work without him.
Despite his best efforts, she had slipped beneath his skin and breached the outer wall of his defenses in a way no one else had in two years. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
Not even himself.
The realization sent a shard of pain to his chest, and he rubbed at the ache.
Roshan Haider was about to discover how dangerous it was to fuck with a former SAS man.
He pulled up Nathan’s contact.
“Yo, amigo. Are you still up for me to embarrass you at the shooting range on Wednesday night?” Nathan’s nasal twang and lazy vowels amplified the amusement threading his voice.
“I need your help.”
“Name it.” In a blink, his mate’s tone shifted from good ol’ boy to deadly operator.
“The woman I’ve mentioned, Sophia. I need you to keep an eye on her. Nadia’s brother is in town, and he’s sending me a message.” Nathan’s job as a white-hat hacker gave him the flexibility to shadow Sophia, and for a big man, Nathan was unusually good at not being seen.
Nathan swore. “You need me to find out where Haider’s staying?”
“Yes.” Lachlan’s fury morphed into an icy calm. “Then I’m going hunting.”
“Roger that.”
Nathan’s response eased the knot in Lachlan’s chest. The former SEAL wouldn’t let anything happen to Sophia. “I’ll text you her information.”
He hung up and pulled up another contact. If he made this call, he was limiting his options regarding Haider. He’d just as soon bury pieces of the man beneath the Potomac River, but even in combat, there were rules of engagement.
Lucas Caldwell answered on the third ring. “I don’t have any new information on Khan’s weapons supplier, Mackay.”