Page 41 of Missile Strike

“Nathan and Ryan are vetting the guest list,” Ryder continued. “I’m sending Caleb and Tavari to Charlotte next week to finalize preparations with you and be your team on the ground. You’ll also need to coordinate with Senator Strickland’s security detail.”

“Roger that.” Danny’s gaze fixed on the timestamp in the lower right corner of his monitor. Bella was working from home today. He could stop by as soon as this meeting wrapped up.

“Are we keeping you from something, Danny?” Nathan drawled.

The sound of his name snapped his attention back to the monitor.

Shit.

“Sorry, just figuring something out in my head.”

His former SEAL team leader’s eyes narrowed. “You’re planning on telling the senator’s daughter about Hassan, aren’t you?”

Sometimes he hated how well Nathan knew him.

“Don’t you think you should leave that to Senator Strickland?” Ryder cautioned.

Danny gave a disgusted snort. “He won’t. He thinks he’s protecting her by keeping her in the dark.”

“For the record, I agree with you—I think we both do.” Nathan shrugged his massive shoulders. “But if the senator finds out, be prepared for a shitstorm.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Thirty minutes later, Danny pulled into Bella’s driveway. He rang the doorbell and heard Trip bark.

The deadbolt slid back with a click.

Bella stood in the open doorway, dressed in a white cotton tee and black tennis skirt. Her bare feet made him even more aware of their height difference.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” She stepped aside, allowing him entry.

“I have news I wanted to tell you in person.” He cursed himself as a flash of fear darkened her eyes to amber.

She gestured to the couch.

He waited for her to take a seat, his stomach sinking when her hand crept to the bare skin of her thigh beneath the hem of her skirt.

“Miran Hassan is dead.”

Bella blinked. “How?”

“Heart attack.”

Her fingers stilled. Eyes closing, she drew a breath. When she lifted her lashes, a glassy sheen covered them. “Thank you for telling me. My father wouldn’t have.”

“I know.”

She glanced away before returning to meet his gaze. “Is it awful of me to feel this relief?”

The urge to touch her, wrap her in his arms, and tell her everything would be okay overwhelmed him. “It makes you human.”

All the air seemed to deflate from her posture.

Silence settled between them.

“Does this mean you’re not my undercover bodyguard anymore?” Her eyes, framed by long dark lashes, looked enormous in her delicate face.

What was she really asking, and how did he frame a response that wouldn’t get her guard up?