Zulu by Sybil Bartel EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Sybil Bartel
- Language: English
- Genre: Romance in Uniform
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Zulu
Santorini, Greece
Scanning he cliff-top terrace overlooking the Aegean Sea, I glanced at the
empty lower level before speaking discretely into my comm. “Western
perimeter check. Clear.”
“Southern perimeter check, clear,” Vance “Victor” Conlon replied.
Echo grunted in disgust. “Unless you count some fuck behind the
carport trying to score with a drunk blonde, heliport and east perimeter are
clear.”
Victor chuckled. “You jealous he got to her first?”
“Fuck off, Twin,” Echo replied.
“Echo, Victor, focus up,” our boss, Adam “Alpha” Trefor, warned.
“Interior check clear. Moving to upper level.”
“Copy,” Victor chimed at the same time Echo muttered, “Fucking
bullshit assignment. I hate funerals.”
“Wake,” Alpha corrected.
“Same difference,” Echo complained.
“Zulu, incoming,” Victor warned a second before I heard it.
Heels clicked on the stone behind me, then her quiet voice carried on
the breeze. “It’s like a hilltop prison up here.”
“Here we go.” Echo snorted. “Horny widow strikes at pretty boy pilot
she’s been eye-fucking all night. Hundred bucks says she’s sucking your co
—”
Muting my comm, I turned.
Brunette, young, stunning.
The widow.
I’d noticed her the second I’d laid eyes on her. She was the most
beautiful woman I’d ever seen. “Mrs. Taralas, I’m deeply sorry for your
loss.” I wasn’t. I’d met her husband. When Alpha started Alpha Elite
Security, Konstantinos Taralas Sr., the Greek shipping magnate, was one of
AES’s first clients. He was a ruthless son of a bitch who’d made a lot of
enemies. He’d also been at least thirty years older than his widow. Hell,
even Taralas’s eldest son was a few years older than her. Before laying eyes
on the woman this afternoon, I would’ve bet my offshore bank account she
was in it for the money.
But watching her systematically avoid Taralas’s three bachelor sons and
every rich prick with an agenda all evening, I couldn’t tell if she was
actually mourning her asshole of a husband or if she just wanted to escape
this event as much as I did.
I hated being land locked.
I hated being trapped, period.
While I’d been on the Teams, a mission in Bosnia that’d gone
completely FUBAR cured me of ever wanting to be trapped again.
The cockpit of a plane aside, I didn’t like being anywhere I didn’t have
options, and this remote villa was a textbook setup for an ambush. One road
in and out, perched on a cliff two hundred meters above the sea—the
woman was right. This place was a fucking prison. Add in the fact that shit
had felt seriously off since the second we’d stepped off the helo, and I was
just waiting for something fucked up to go down.
With the same drink in her hand she’d been holding for two hours, the
gorgeous widow nodded politely to acknowledge my condolences. “You’re
with Alpha Elite Security, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Long silky hair, dark eyes, perfectly poised—she was
even more beautiful up close. “Is there something I can help you with?” I
took note of her accent, or lack thereof, but I didn’t comment on her
cliffside fortress assessment.
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