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nothing alarming in Morgan’s death. At 65 years old and an insulin-dependent diabetic, with a history of cardiac events, reality was that Stanley Morgan had health issues that could lead to sudden death. Once the judges offered Samantha the position of chief, Samuel became even more adamant.
    Black Raven was her grandfather’s go-to security company, and he’d already made the hiring call by the time he first told her his idea. With steadfast insistence, and continued reference to the horrors of terrorist acts that the ITT was examining, he’d worn her down in repeated phone calls. She’d given her grandfather one stipulation; she’d agree to Black Raven protection, but she did not want Jesus Hernandez to have anything to do with her on-site security detail. She didn’t want to see him or hear from him, and she damn well expected her grandfather to make this happen without it becoming an issue.
    Jesus Hernandez.
    Zeus to anyone who knew him.
    Once, years earlier, she’d known him well. Or so she’d thought. Turned out she hadn’t known him at all. She focused her gaze on the intricately cut crystal water pitcher that the waiter placed on the table. In the last twenty-four hours, she’d been too busy with work to worry about whether her grandfather had truly understood the gravity with which she’d made the stipulation. She hadn’t intended her demand as something her grandfather could consider and reject.
    Now, with the hard knock marking the arrival of the private security company and the literal changing of the guard for the team, her stomach twisted into a hard, nervous ball. Samuel, the larger-than-life man who had raised her after the death of her parents, had taught her to be self sufficient, disciplined, ambitious, and successful. From a young age, he’d treated her as an adult and an equal. He’d always insisted she call him by his first name. Never Grandpa, or Gramps. Yet even with his no nonsense attitude towards everything in life, Samuel knew the reasons why she didn’t want Zeus there. At least he knew some of the reasons why. Surely her grandfather had damn well listened to her?
    Knock. Knock. The email notification finally flashed that the message and the attachments were sent. The cc copy that she’d sent to herself appeared in her inbox with an accompanying ding, just as Lorenzo put a vase of fresh flowers on the worktable that he’d transformed into a dining table.
    “Done,” she said, shutting down her laptop and standing. “Thank you for all your hard work today.” As Lorenzo stepped away from the table, she said, “ Lorenzo, the table is beautiful. Merci beaucoup .”
    Knock. Knock. Knock.
    She walked across the room as Charles signed for the room service. She opened the door. Zeus, arm lifted and fingers curled together as he prepared to rap on the door again, towered over her five seven by a good ten inches. Dropping his arm to his side, he gave her a cool nod, his brusque manner suggesting a nod was all that was needed to bridge the gap between his decision to leave her and the intervening seven years. “Hello, Sam.”

Chapter Three
     
    I’m never speaking to Samuel again.
    Samantha swallowed her shock and composed her features. She was a world-class litigator, for God’s sake. She’d practiced the look of composure in the mirror. She gave Zeus the kind of look she used in court when she knew she was on a losing side of an argument. It was the kind of look that revealed nothing about inner turmoil, and she thanked God she’d practiced how to reflect confidence when she felt none, because right now she needed every bit of cool she’d ever deposited in her considerable reserves.
    A brick wall of a man, Zeus stood still and erect, shoulders broad, muscular arms loose at his sides. Waves were evident in his cropped, thick black hair, which matched the midnight-black of his eyes. In the intervening years since she’d last seen him, she’d had plenty of occasion to remember