HANDS OFF

Aurora Bennett stood on the balcony, staring down at the partygoers below. The champagne was flowing, the music was loud, and people danced with abandon in their sparkling evening wear.

The “Angels and Demons” theme had turned out just the way she’d imagined, complete with devil horns and feathery angel wings for the guests to put on.

A quick spot-check proved that the appetizers were circulating right on cue. The photographer looked busy, snapping candid shots. And most important? Her clients, Brandon and Nadia Wolfson, were dancing right in the middle of the room, basking in the adoration of their guests.

Wow, she thought. Did I actually pull this off?

Brandon looked up, as if feeling Aurora’s gaze. He smiled and nodded at her, then grabbed another glass of fizzy wine from a passing tray before dashing off. Probably to greet more of his business associates.

The Wolfsons owned this venue, The Lighthouse Club. It was the couple’s wedding anniversary, yet their party was more about deal-making for the Wolfsons than it was a simple celebration. For Aurora, it was one of the biggest events she’d planned on her own, not as an assistant or intern.

“He’s definitely happy,” said a bubbly voice beside her. “That’s not easy to do.”

Jennifer Scoville, Brandon’s assistant, stood at her elbow, wearing a blue silk cocktail dress. Her long, straight hair trailed down her back.

“You think so? Your boss can be hard to read.”

“You kidding? He and Nadia both love you.” Jennifer nudged Aurora’s arm playfully. “Look at you, all dolled up. You should be down there, enjoying yourself.”

Aurora glanced down at her dress—floor-length black sequins, cut-outs at the waist, showing the sides of her ribcage. A rental. Hardly anyone had seen her in it tonight, but Aurora didn’t care—she dressed for herself, and feeling sexy gave her confidence. Even though she’d ended up sweating through the fabric, she was so nervous.

“I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect.”

Jennifer winked. “And it was. So, relax.”

Aurora breathed out a sigh, one part relief and one part disappointment that she’d completed her role in tonight’s festivities. Months of planning, stress, and spreadsheets, and it all came down to a few hours of showtime. She should’ve been thrilled. After all, this was her first major party-planning gig since moving back to her hometown. If socialites like the Wolfsons recommended her to their friends, she’d have no shortage of work coming down the pipeline.

She didn’t have a ton of experience with swanky events, but this one felt a bit anticlimactic now that it was almost over. As if it all should’ve meant something more than just a short release, no matter how intense. Kind of like sex with a guy you’d met at a bar—fun, memorable, yet you knew you’d never see him again.

Of course, after her eight-month dry spell, a short release with a sexy partner sounded pretty darn appealing. Any day now, her vibrator was going to give out from overuse. It was big, huge, and green—nicknamed the Incredible Hulk—and it was the only penis in her life these days. Sad, but true.

“As long as the Wolfsons are happy with their anniversary, I’m happy.”

“It’s been great working with you,” Jennifer said. “Brandon will have another soiree for you to plan before you know it—and hopefully your brother can make it to the next one?”

Aurora’s smile turned sour. Her brother.

Max Bennett was part of the reason she’d moved home to West Oaks after a disastrous break-up with her ex. Aurora’s entire support system was here in California, small though it was.

Then Max had been quick to offer his help, and without questioning his motives, she’d accepted it. The Wolfsons had been Max’s clients first. He’d recommended Aurora to them.

But after spending four years away from home for college, Aurora felt like she hardly recognized her brother. He’d gone from a clean-cut soldier, fresh from an honorable discharge after serving his country, to an entrepreneur who owned a multi-million-dollar security company.

Thank goodness he’d been busy tonight and had to decline the Wolfsons’ invite. Otherwise, he’d probably be on this balcony right now, checking up on his little sister instead of enjoying the free booze.

Jennifer had dropped more than one hint about getting together with him on a more “personal” level. But sadly—for Jennifer and all the other single ladies of West Oaks, anyway—Max was a chronic bachelor, workaholic, and all-around control freak. Yes, Aurora had accepted his help. But she hadn’t thought he’d still be so nosy. She wasn’t a teenager anymore.

Jennifer held out a sealed envelope. “The remainder of your fee, plus a little extra to show Brandon’s appreciation. Text me, okay? We’ll drive into L.A. for a shopping and spa day?”

Aurora felt herself glowing at Jennifer’s offer. The woman seemed so sophisticated—exactly the kind of image Aurora hoped to project. “You know how to sweet talk a girl. I’m totally in.”

They hugged goodbye.

Aurora popped open the envelope and glanced inside, then did a double take. This check couldn’t be right.

“Jennifer, wait—” But the assistant was already gone.

A little extra? Brandon had doubled her fee.

But she didn’t feel appreciated. Instead, she felt sick inside. This wasn’t right.

Max, she thought. My overprotective, bossy brother is behind this. She wasn’t sure how, but she just knew.

She couldn’t accept this money. It wasn’t professional. How was she supposed to make it on her own if people treated her like a charity case? Or even worse, used her to suck up to her brother.

Aurora marched toward Brandon’s office, heels clacking against the stone flooring. Down below, the music continued to throb.

In her purse, her phone buzzed. It was a text from her best friend—her biggest reason for moving back to West Oaks.

Lana Marchetti had written, Pick up any hot men at the party tonight?

Aurora groaned aloud. She texted back, I wish. Max’s spies are probably here. Not to mention his cameras. Just wait until you hear what he’s done now.

Was she being overly dramatic? Yes. But who could you vent to, if not your best friend? She thought about calling Lana, but the yelling would have to wait until she was safely away from the party.

Aurora tucked her phone away as she reached the outer door to the Wolfsons’ suite of offices.

It was cracked open. Odd. But just as well—she could put the check on Jennifer’s desk with a note, politely but firmly refusing the extra pay.

She pushed the door open. A light was on.

“Hello?”

Nobody answered. A half-empty glass of champagne sat on a bookcase, left here sometime tonight. Maybe the person was going to come back. If it was Brandon, she wanted to talk to him. She could graciously turn down his gift and assure him that no special treatment was necessary, regardless of whatever her brother might’ve suggested. She didn’t want to offend the man and ruin her chances of further business.

But after standing around for almost five minutes, nobody had returned. She slid the envelope under the door to Brandon’s private office.

Then she heard footsteps. Voices came from just beyond the outer door to the office suite.

“I told you, this isn’t a good time,” Brandon was saying.

Aurora took an instinctive step back. She’d never heard him so anxious. Usually, her client exuded an effortless confidence. He came from a rich Pasadena family, nothing but private schools and yacht clubs and weekend jaunts to Vegas via helicopter. “If somebody at the party sees you here, there will be questions—”

A new voice spoke, low and dangerous.

“It’s time when I say it is. I have concerns about our arrangement, and I don’t wait.”

Something about that harsh voice turned Aurora’s skin cold. A sense that the man, whoever he was, didn’t have a single ounce of mercy in his soul.

She ducked into the nearest open door—the office that belonged to Nadia, Brandon’s wife. The room was a dark expanse of modern furniture and expensive art. At the same moment, Brandon and the other man entered the main door from the hall. Aurora backed up into the shadows, crouching down, but she could still see the men through the doorway.

The new man was tall, early thirties, with handsome features and wavy dark hair. He carried himself with an almost-royal bearing, looking down his nose at Brandon.

“Dominic, I don’t know what people have been telling you, but—”

Dominic lunged. Grabbing Brandon by the throat, he shoved him up against the wall. The half-glass of champagne tottered from the bookcase and smashed onto the floor.

Aurora thrust a hand over her mouth, covering her gasp.

Two more men stood on either side of Dominic. One was as big as a linebacker, with his long gray hair back in a ponytail. The other was slighter, with a pointy nose and cunning eyes.

Their faces were impassive as they watched Brandon struggle to breathe.

Below, she could still hear music and laughter coming from the party. But it might as well have been another world. Aurora looked around Mrs. Wolfson’s office, as if she’d find some way to help her client. If these men were as serious as they looked, Brandon was in trouble.

She felt her phone in her pocket, but her hands were shaking too hard to take it out.

“Raymond told me everything,” Dominic hissed. “How he fixed the records when he brought you my money, so the two of you could skim your extras off the top? As if I wouldn’t find out?”

Brandon clawed at Dominic’s hands around his neck. The man released his hold, and Brandon tumbled onto the floor, coughing and wheezing. His face had turned bright red.

“He’s lying.” Brandon got onto his hands and knees. “Please, Dominic.” His voice was hoarse. “You know me. I’m a friend of your father’s. I wouldn’t… If anything’s missing, I’ll pay it back…”

Dominic was nodding along. “Oh, I have no doubt of that. But you didn’t just steal from me. You took my money and started a little business on the side.”

Aurora could hardly breathe, but a voice in her mind broke through. Phone, she told herself. Snap out of it and do something.

She managed to pull the device from her pocket, though her fingers felt numb. She checked that it was on silent. But what now? Should she contact the police? Her brother? Max got on her nerves, but he or his employees could actually handle a situation like this.

She glanced back up at the scene in the main office. A look of horror had crossed Brandon’s face. He clutched at the other man’s pant legs.

“Wait, listen, it wasn’t my idea.”

Dominic kicked him away. “You disgust me. I’m finished with you.”

“No, please, I’ll do anything.”

“You betrayed me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Eric, why don’t you show him exactly how it feels?”

He nodded at the one with the ponytail, then stormed out of the office, the door swinging shut behind him.

The two goons stared down at Brandon. Ponytail—Eric—dug a hand into his pocket and came out holding a pistol. A silencer fit onto the end of the muzzle.

“Shit,” Aurora whispered.

They were going to kill Wolfson.

SOS, she typed into her phone, and sent the message to her brother. Gun. Brandon’s office.

Again, her gaze darted over the darkened room. She needed a weapon. Or something—anything—to distract Dominic’s men. But what could she do? She couldn’t go up against two guys with guns.

These men were criminals. Mobsters or gangsters. What would they do if they found her here?

Her eyes lit upon a white panel on the wall. It bore a familiar logo—a stylized “B.” Bennett Security. She crept over. Out in the main part of the office, Brandon was blubbering and trying to scream. It sounded like the goons had shoved a gag into his mouth. Bile rose in Aurora’s throat.

She reached the panel and touched it with her finger. It flashed to life, showing a digital screen. Aurora hit the icon for the silent alarm. A red light began to flash on the panel.

Right now, a notification would be ringing out at her older brother’s company headquarters.

But he hadn’t written back to her text. Where was he? What if nobody got here in time?

I have to do something, Aurora thought, just as the pistol fired. Blood sprayed across the carpet. She cried out. Her hand flew to her mouth, but too late to cover the sound.

Brandon had collapsed in a heap.

Eric looked up at his pointy-nosed friend. “Did you hear that? Just now?”

Aurora’s body flooded with panic, every nerve tingling painfully. Yet she couldn’t move.

“I didn’t hear anything,” the friend said.

“Could’ve sworn I did. Came from over there.”

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. Nadia Wolfson’s desk hid her from view. But if they came fully into the room—if they turned on the lights—they’d find her in an instant.

Their footsteps came closer.

Her blood rushed in her ears. Her lungs burned from holding her breath.

“Oh fuck, you see that red light? That panel? Wolfson must’ve tripped a silent alarm before you did him. We need to get the hell out of here.”

She heard the outer door open. Footsteps, running.

Then silence.

Even when they were gone, Aurora stayed crouched in the dark in her evening gown, shaking so badly that her vision blurred. Brandon was out there. If she went past him, she was sure she’d see the accusation in his face.

You hid and saved yourself. You coward.

Devon Whitestone circled his opponent, waiting for the moment to strike. A fist drove toward his face. He leaned to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow. Jeez, his reflexes were slow today. He felt like he was moving through sand.

A jab. A hook. Bob and weave.

Focus, he told himself.

But he was sloppy throwing his next punch. Left himself wide open. He didn’t even see the fist coming, only felt knuckles driving into his chin, even through the padding.

Devon went sprawling onto the rubber flooring.

“Oh, shit.” Chase, Devon’s friend and sparring partner, threw off his headgear and pulled the gloves from his hands. “Are you okay?”

Devon let the bite guard drop from his mouth. The room was spinning, but only a little. “Yeah. No worries. I’m slower than usual today.”

“What happened? Late night?”

“Yeah. Got called in.”

“Again? What time did you get home?” Chase held out a hand, helping Devon up.

“Uh, three maybe?”

Chase whistled. “Jesus, Devon. I mean, you’re making me look good on the mat by comparison. But you should be home asleep.” He led Devon over to a bench and made him sit down. “You need a day off.”

Devon managed a weak laugh. “This is my day off.”

“I don’t know how you keep going like this, man,” Chase said. “I really don’t.”

Because I don’t have much choice, Devon thought.

Chase handed Devon a water bottle. He took a long swig.

“Tell me the truth,” his friend said. “How have you really been?”

Fucking tired, he responded silently. I’m coming apart at the seams. But I’m going to keep acting like everything’s fine, and eventually, it will be. I hope.

“Hanging in there,” Devon said.

He didn’t like talking about his problems. Devon wasn’t a fan of showing weakness, not so much because he looked down on vulnerability. He wasn’t a hyper-macho, men-don’t-cry sort of asshole. He had feelings, even if he couldn’t afford to show them. Getting caught up in his own wants and needs would be selfish. His family needed him to be strong.

It had been a year and a half since his world turned upside down. Since his twin brother, Kellen, had died in the line of duty.

Devon and Kellen came from a family of Los Angeles cops. Uncles, aunts, cousins, all proud to be blue. The twin brothers had wanted nothing more than to join the club. Then their father had been shot and killed while on patrol when they were ten. It had been a terrible time. Yet the family bonded together even closer and got through it.

After they’d graduated high school, Kellen wanted to uphold their dad’s legacy. He’d applied to a criminal justice program with the intention of entering the police academy after he got his degree. But Devon, on the advice of his school counselor, went through the difficult process to apply to West Point. His grades were stellar. He’d always welcomed a challenge. And he still had a lingering ambivalence about a life patrolling the streets of L.A.

And then—to his surprise, most of all—he’d actually gotten accepted with a full-ride scholarship. Four years later, he graduated and began his career as a lieutenant in the army. Then he’d completed the Ranger Assessment and Selection Program and joined the Army Rangers.

There were things he couldn’t stand about being a soldier, like losing people he’d grown to love and admire. He’d lost too many people in his life. But overall, Devon was happy with his career. He had a purpose—serving his country with pride—and that meant everything to him.

Then came the phone call last year, when he’d learned that Kellen had been shot trying to stop a gunman at a shopping mall. By the time Devon heard about it, Kellen was already gone.

The grief had been overwhelming. He still couldn’t talk about his brother’s death. Not if he wanted to hold his shit together.

Devon’s mother and sister had begged him to come home. They couldn’t take the risk of losing another member of their family. It took nearly a year to get his honorable discharge. Finally, Devon made it back to Los Angeles, just in time to find out that his mom’s mortgage was underwater. And his sister Ruby gave birth a week later, her deadbeat ex nowhere to be found.

So taking care of his family became Devon’s new purpose.

The job offer from Bennett Security came at just the right moment. Devon moved his mom, sister, and baby niece out of Los Angeles and into the beautiful beachside community of West Oaks. It wasn’t easy to afford the rent, but this was the kind of life that he wanted to provide for them, away from the crowds and the smog and the bad memories.

Since they’d moved to West Oaks, his family was actually smiling again.

“You could always get laid,” Chase said. “That might take some pressure off.”

He snorted. “When would I have time for that?”

Devon wasn’t in the service anymore, but he still lived by a schedule. Wake up at five, run two miles to the gym, train. Clean up, eat, and head to work by eight. In the evenings, he picked up extra shifts or spent time with his Mom or Ruby. Bed by nine, unless he was working. On Friday nights, whenever possible, he babysat his niece so his sister and mom could take a little time for themselves.

Devon had to be their rock, both financially and emotionally. They had the support of their extended family and the police community, too. But nobody else was going to take responsibility for them the way that Devon would.

His schedule kept everything moving smoothly, no unexpected surprises. His mom and sister needed certainty in their lives, and so did he. Dating had a tendency to throw mud into the gears.

If he had to take extra shifts to make ends meet, and if he had to just keep pushing relentlessly to keep himself from sinking—well, that was how it had to be. Once he’d saved enough money to get Mom and Ruby and the baby into a real house—no more noisy apartments or unreliable landlords—then maybe he’d back off a bit. Take a nap.

If he broke under the stress? His family would come crashing down along with him.

“You can’t spare one night for a hook-up?” Chase asked. “You’re practically a monk.”

Devon grunted dismissively. He got up, and they headed for the showers. “What about you? What’s new at the station?”

Chase was an officer with the West Oaks Police Department. This gym, in fact, was a popular place for cops to work out and train. Even though Devon was ex-military, the officers here accepted him as an honorary fellow cop because of his family legacy. His friendships with police often came in handy working for a private security company.

Chase stripped off the rest of his gear, throwing it into his locker. “You haven’t heard? That murder over at The Lighthouse Club is what everyone’s been talking about. I figured the sirens woke the whole town last night.”

“Oh, I heard. Actually, that was the reason I got called in to work. We did the security system at the club, and Bennett himself responded to the silent alarm. He’d even gotten a tip-off beforehand, apparently, though I’m not sure how. I had to cover the office while Bennett and his team were gone.”

Devon usually sold security systems these days or worked behind a desk. His mom couldn’t handle the stress of him being in danger.

Chase whistled. “Then you must know a lot more about it than I do, man. People are saying that Wolfson, the guy who got killed, had ties to a Los Angeles crime ring. They’ve been moving into West Oaks, trying to expand their territory. And the rumor is, there was a witness to the murder. Some woman.”

From a nearby locker, another guy looked over. He wore a towel around his waist, and he’d laid out his West Oaks P.D. uniform on the bench. “I heard that, too. I wouldn’t want to be her right now. These mobster guys are no joke. Remember that eyewitness last summer who got gunned down on the L.A. County courthouse steps, right before testifying?”

“That was brutal,” Chase said. “They couldn’t tie the hit to anybody, either. Unsolved. Sickening that that kind of shit is coming to West Oaks, now.”

Devon didn’t like the sound of that. West Oaks was supposed to be a safer, quieter place for his family to settle and heal. It was like L.A.’s problems had followed him here.

His phone buzzed, and he checked the message. Damn. “That’s my boss. I gotta head out.”

“But what about your day off?”

“Duty calls.”

“And Devon Whitestone always answers,” Chase joked. Devon heard his friends’ rueful laughter following him out the door.

* * *

Devon swiped his key card and walked into Bennett Security’s main office. The place was full of large windows and chrome, with fancy flat-panel TVs lining the walls along one side. A couple of his colleagues looked up and nodded hello from behind their computers.

He had worked for Bennett Security for three months now. He was still the new guy, so he didn’t have his pick of assignments. But Max Bennett knew that Devon wanted as many shifts as possible and seemed to be pleased with the work Devon had done so far.

He jogged up the open-riser staircase to his boss’s closed door. The room was lined with glass walls, and Devon could see his boss on the phone, pacing back and forth across the luxuriously appointed space.

Bennett noticed him through the glass and waved for him to come inside.

Still listening to his phone, Bennett pointed at the leather couch across from his desk. Devon sank into the cushions.

Max Bennett had been running Bennett Security for about six years, from what Devon had learned. Bennett had grown up here, so it probably had been easy to get started. Maybe he had a built-in client base from his former classmates, no doubt some fancy private school.

The company installed custom security systems and provided personal protection to the wealthy around West Oaks. Their clientele was elite and filthy rich, so Bennett must’ve been making a mint off the fees. As his swanky headquarters showed.

“Yes,” Bennett said into the phone, “make sure she has a detail twenty-four-seven. If West Oaks P.D. can’t provide it, I want to know. If anyone from the Syndicate so much as farts in her direction, I want to know.” A pause. “Of course, I’m being demanding. Who do you think I am?”

Bennett glanced over. Devon was careful to keep his expression blank, not giving away any of his opinions about his boss. Bennett had the easy confidence of someone who’d been born rich. Devon had met plenty of guys like him at West Point. Guys who simply assumed they deserved to be in charge, that it wasn’t something they had to earn.

Yet Bennett was smart, and he was fair. Devon liked working for him so far. Bennett was the kind of leader that Devon could respect, someone who valued the people under him but cared most of all about the job they had to do. And of course, Devon would follow his orders, no matter what he thought of the guy. He was still a soldier at heart. As a former military man himself, Bennett commanded allegiance by his position alone.

Bennett said goodbye and ended his phone call. Then he came around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, a clear stance of dominance compared to Devon’s sitting position. Devon sat up straighter.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Bennett regarded him for a moment. “I like you, Whitestone. You seem like the sort of man I can trust with something sensitive. Do you think that’s fair?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Bennett nodded. “No hesitation, I appreciate that. You remind me of myself when I was younger. You want to prove yourself. And you want to take care of the people close to you.”

Bennett knew a little about his personal history and his family situation. Though Devon doubted that Bennett could truly understand the financial pressure he was under.

“I hope so, sir.”

He’d been lucky to get this job in the first place. The commanding officer of Devon’s unit of Army Rangers had also been an old friend of Bennett’s. When Devon got his discharge, his commander passed on a strong reference.

A lot of former military worked for this office, which was a sensible move on Bennett’s part. With those who had their level of training, Bennett would know what to expect, and he’d know that the job would get done.

“You also have a sister, correct?” Bennett asked.

“Yes, Ruby is my younger sister. And I have a niece as well. Haley.” She was six months old.

“Of course, I remember. I called you in today to ask a favor. For me, personally. My own younger sister is in trouble, and I’d do anything to ensure her safety. I need someone close by, someone I can count on. I think that person is you.”

Devon opened his mouth, but Bennett held up his hand. “Before you accept this assignment, I need to make a few things…explicit. You heard about the murder at The Lighthouse Club last night? A young woman witnessed it.”

“That was your sister? A witness to some mob hit?” Devon blurted without thinking. He clamped his jaw shut. Damn, he really was tired. He wasn’t in top form today.

But Bennett didn’t seem to hold the outburst against him. “That’s right. My sister Aurora was the witness. She’d tried to text me, and I missed it at first. Thank God she triggered the silent alarm. I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened otherwise.”

He rubbed the skin between his eyes. “Turns out, the people she saw take out Brandon Wolfson came in from L.A. The Silverlake Syndicate. They’re organized crime, and they don’t fool around. I need to know that Aurora is protected at all times. I was just on the phone with the Assistant District Attorney about a police detail for her. They’ve promised that her identity will remain sealed for as long as possible. But it’s entirely feasible this will get out. And if that happens, I don’t want those thugs anywhere near her.”

So, this would be a bodyguard assignment. Not Devon’s usual role—in fact, it was a promotion. He felt pride that Bennett would choose him. Excitement made his nerves sing.

But Devon’s mother wouldn’t like it. She’d freak if she found out. Maybe Ruby would, too.

He wanted this assignment, though. For the first time in weeks, he felt completely awake.

“Would your family be okay with that?” Bennett probably saw the uncertainty on Devon’s face.

“I could make it work. May I ask for more details?”

“Of course. You shouldn’t take this decision lightly. You would be staying close to my sister until the DA is able to make an arrest and get my sister’s testimony on the record. I don’t know how long exactly that would take. It could be a week or two. It could be a month. Perhaps even longer if we think the Syndicate plans to retaliate. I’ll have a remote team here at the office watching the cameras twenty-four-seven, and you would have time off whenever I can arrange suitable backup for you. But I’m talking about extended hours.”

Which would mean extra pay. Devon was already thinking about his savings account balance and how much this could add to the nest egg he was building up for his mom’s new house.

“But that’s not all,” Bennett went on. “My sister is… How can I put this? Spirited. She’s eleven years younger than me, not far out of college. She doesn’t like me getting involved in her business, even though she clearly needs my help. So, until I can convince her otherwise, she can’t know that you’re working for me. She can’t know that you’re there to protect her at all. She’s never met you before, so that helps.”

“But how close are we talking? To be frank, I’m not a great liar. That’s what the other guys tell me, at least.”

His boss laughed. “And that’s what I like about you—you’re a straight shooter. Just what I need. But don’t worry. You would be staying in the apartment next door to hers. Close enough to keep an eye on her, but there would be no need for a lot of conversation.”

“But why me? If you don’t mind me asking, sir. I’ve been warming a desk lately.” Devon didn’t want to lose this opportunity, but he didn’t feel that he was the best fit, from what his boss had explained so far.

“You’re up on your training, though? You’ve put in your time at the range?”

“Yes.”

Bennett crossed his legs at the ankles, gazing into the distance for a moment. “Like I said, you remind me of myself. You keep a cool head under pressure. You care about your family more than anything else. You know the meaning of honor. Given what you’ve lost, how could you not?”

“Yes, sir,” Devon responded softly. He felt a brief urge to avert his eyes from Bennet’s gaze, but didn’t give in.

“And you’re not a womanizer—yes, I’ve noticed. I pay attention to my employees. In fact, that leads into my last requirement—that you keep a certain distance. I need to know, with absolute certainty, that you can keep things completely professional around Aurora.”

“Professional? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Actually, Devon was pretty sure he did know what Bennett meant. But he was a little shocked that Bennett was even suggesting it.

The man’s keen eyes said that he sensed Devon’s thoughts and didn’t give a shit about causing offense. “Let me be clear, Whitestone. Unless you’re actively shielding her from an assailant, you’d better keep your hands off my sister. That goes for every other part of you, too—unless you want to lose them.” The man’s eyes bored into his. “I assume that won’t be a problem?”

“No, sir. No problem whatsoever.”

Devon thought the secrecy was a little weird, and that his boss didn’t need to worry about his professionalism. But in Bennet’s shoes, he might’ve been asking for the same thing where Ruby was concerned. Especially after that piece of shit ex had left Ruby pregnant and in the lurch.

“Excellent. I expected no less. If you handle this job well, you’ll have a very bright future with Bennett Security. Fuck it up?”

The rest went unsaid. His ass would be toast.

But Devon was, through and through, a man who believed in duty. He would sooner cut off his own balls than mess around with his commanding officer’s sister.

Bennett extended his hand, and they shook.

Right now, advance reviewers can find HANDS OFF on Book Sirens and Book Sprout!

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