Agent I1: Tristan [01] The D.I.R.E. Agency
Read Agent I1: Tristan [01] The D.I.R.E. Agency Online
Authors: Joni Hahn
Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Suspense, #Adult
Agent I1: Tristan
Copyright December 2013, Joni Hahn
Cover by: Najla Qamber Designs
Formatted by: Author’s HQ
Kindle Edition
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or deceased, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without the express written approval of the author, except where permitted by law.
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Table Of Contents
Dedication
To my son, whose ideas and excitement made this series possible.
To my son-in-law, for his patience as I perfected my superhero’s tattoos.
To my daughter, for teaching me self-confidence, and showing me that dreams really do come true.
To best-selling author, Liliana Hart, whose inspiring journey to publication motivated me to bring these books to life.
To the NRW, for your undying support and encouragement. Love you all!
And to my husband, my real-life superhero. I love you.
Agent I1: Tristan
The D.I.R.E. Agency Series
Chapter 1
Being invisible had definite advantages - slipping in and out of rebel compounds, stealing enemy technology and weapons, and listening in on private conversations, to name a few. But none, not one, was more beneficial, more gratifying, more freaking
hot
, than watching Rachel Monroe dress in this church, undetected.
Tristan Jacobs ducked around the full-length mirror to get a better angle. His conscience told him he should be shot for standing there ogling Aidan’s sister. His former BUD/S teammate and swim buddy, Aidan Monroe, had saved his life once upon a time, and Tristan owed him.
Or,
had
owed him - until last night.
Living with the ability to see himself but not be seen by others had made Tristan’s job so much easier. He could honestly say this was the first time he had used his ability for
personal
, unscrupulous gain. The ability to teleport from one place to another with the scan of a thumbprint on his armband, had given him a whole new spin on time management.
His lower body hummed as he stared at the bare flesh highlighted in the sunrays shining through the skylight. Rachel was a goddess. Not in the supermodel, movie starlet sense. Those women did nothing for him. She came off more as the small town, girl next door, they-know-how-to-grow-‘em-down-on-the-farm-type goddess. And damn, was she blessed.
The push-up bra she wore urged him to text his broker and buy stock in women’s lingerie. If Rachel walked into the Stock Exchange wearing that thing, she could single-handedly revive Wall Street and the nation’s economy.
Tristan stifled a groan as she slowly rolled up an ivory silk stocking and hooked it to her garter. The woman’s legs were all kinds of long, her stomach flat and smooth. Her skin held the hint of a tan – even the cheeks peeking out of her ivory lace panties were tanned.
He took a steadying breath.
Don’t go there, Jacobs
.
Aidan had known calling in that favor was the only way Tristan would have left his long-awaited staycation in Trunk Bay. The hothead all but ordered Tristan to help save his older sister, the saint.
Tristan whistled mentally as Rachel shimmied into her fitted wedding gown. He had never seen a saint with curves like
that
.
Aidan could only blame himself for Tristan standing in the bride’s room of an old, Victorian church in
Podunk
, Texas, watching his sister don a wedding dress she wouldn’t use. He’d told Tristan to meet him there.
Aidan was late.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Rachel told her reflection as she smoothed the lace skirt over her hips. “This will fix everything for Mom.”
Tristan frowned.
No, you’re not doing the right thing
.
I did the right thing
for
you
.
He’d crashed Cody Brewster’s bachelor party last night. Of course, no one had seen him there but Aidan. Tristan had seen first-hand what an arrogant ass Rachel’s fiancé could be. According to Aidan, Brewster and his father, Jock, owned nearly the entire town. Tristan had seen evidence of that in the way the men sucked up to them at the party. Gifts and drinks were expected from everyone and, other than Aidan, they had delivered.
“Hi, Mom.”
Rachel’s deep sigh and soft voice brought Tristan out of his reverie. Damn, he hadn’t heard Kate Monroe enter the room. Ogling his only friend’s sister while her mother stood by, well… even a corrupt mercenary like Tristan had his limits. He needed to get out of there.
“Rachel, you’re absolutely beautiful.” Kate rushed forward to give her daughter a hug.
The woman was the splitting image of Aidan, with her copper hair and green eyes. Rachel must’ve gotten her chocolate waves from her deceased father.
The heavy, oak door swung open. Aidan stuck in his head and looked around. “Anyone come by searching for me?”
“No.” Kate pinned Rachel’s veil to the crown of her head. She looked over at her son. “Who would be looking for you?”
Dismissing them without an answer, Aidan pulled the door halfway shut and left.
Good boy
.
With sincere regret, Tristan left behind Rachel and the hottest fifteen minutes he’d experienced in a long time. He tiptoed around the faded, olive-colored sofa, steering clear of the glass lamp on the end table.
Invisibility didn’t mean he could move through objects.
Slipping through the opening, Tristan stepped out into the hallway. He wanted to do a quick surveillance of the church and grounds before he found Aidan. With only fifteen minutes to go before the start of the ceremony, he wanted to ensure turmoil loomed on the Brewster side of the church.
Tristan stepped out into the June, early morning sun and took a deep breath. The smell of oil hung heavy and dank, making him long for home. If all went well, he could still get in a full afternoon and evening on his private beach.
Rounding the side of the church, past the statue of St. Michael, Tristan made his way to the back parking lot - and stopped cold.
Jock Brewster and another man had Cody propped up in the passenger seat of a big, black pickup. Jock’s son looked unconscious, his head flopping onto his chest while they tried to slip his arms into a tuxedo jacket.
Tristan did a mental fist pump while he cursed low in his throat. Obviously, the mega-dose of
Rohypnol
he had slipped into Cody’s drink last night still worked. He just couldn’t believe Jock would still try to pull off the wedding.
He had to tell Aidan.
Jogging down the church hallway, Tristan found a closet. Looking around, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him. He slid open the copper plate on his armband, emblazed with
The D.I.R.E. Agency
emblem, and ran the pad of his forefinger over the scanner beneath. Closing his eyes, his blood pumped wildly as an electrical current shot through his system, deactivating the gold and copper compound. He saw a bright flash of light behind his eyelids before the bulk of his flesh weighed on his bones.
He was visible again.
Opening his eyes, he smoothed down his grey-striped tie and adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt. He rushed out the door and ran to the bride’s room. Reaching for the knob, he stopped short when the door was yanked open from the inside. Rachel ran straight into him, Aidan on her six.
Don’t look down, Jacobs. Don’t even think about those impossibly perfect breasts crushed against you
.
Aidan will kill you on the spot
.
He stared at Aidan above Rachel’s head. “Houston, we have a problem.”
Aidan let out a breath, his tense shoulders dropping in relief. “Where the
hell
have you been?”
Trust me, you don’t want to know
. “Bogey and company at nine o’clock, about a half click.”
Looking away, Aidan cursed a blue streak. Rachel whipped around to glare at him. “Aidan, we are in a church.”
Tristan grinned to himself. Cocky, smart ass Aidan Monroe actually blushed. If the situation weren’t so urgent, Tristan would’ve harassed him about it.
Rachel stared up at Tristan, hands on hips. “Who are you and what are you talking about?”
An answer formed in Tristan’s head but couldn’t seem to pass his lips. She focused on him now, her big, aqua eyes shimmering against her tanned skin. Tristan’s body felt as charged as it had during his visibility transformation a few seconds ago.
“He’s out cold,” he told Aidan. “The old man is dragging him in here. What do you want to do?”
Rachel’s gasp almost swallowed her words. “Who’s out? Cody?”
Aidan glanced back at his mother, his brows furrowed. Groaning aloud, Kate turned away.
“Rachel,” Aidan said, “go down the hall with Tristan while Mom and I talk to Jock.”
“
No
.” She turned back to her brother. “If Cody is here, we’re getting married.”
A muffled hum and the echo of heavy-booted footsteps grew stronger and louder with each passing second. Rachel moved in closer, trying to see beyond Tristan’s shoulder.
Without a word, Aidan motioned for Tristan to let him and Kate pass. Rachel pushed forward to follow, but Tristan stepped into the doorway and turned his back on her. She peered around his bicep.
Jock Brewster shuffled into view, dragging his son under one arm. Cody remained lifeless, his head bobbing in rhythm with their steps. The rubber toes of his boots dragged on the concrete floor, leaving twin, narrow tracks down the church hallway.
Somehow, Jock had managed to get his son into a full tuxedo. He labored to keep his hulking son upright.
“
Cody
.” Rachel’s small hands pushed against Tristan’s shoulders.
It took all he had not to flinch away from the contact.
“Let me
pass
.” She shoved him in the back.
His arm shot out and braced against the doorframe, blocking her path further.
“Good heavens, Jock,” Kate cried. “Do you honestly expect Rachel to marry him while he’s unconscious?”
Jock lowered his son into a metal, folding chair beside a water fountain. Cody fell over sideways, his blonde head resting in the basin.
“Aw, Kate,” Jock said in a breathless voice, his white hair mussed from the exertion, “we all know they both agreed to this. Why don’t we just have Pastor Collins come back here and marry them? No one in town will know the difference.”
Tristan stilled.
Holy shit, was this guy serious
?
Aidan laughed, his arms crossed over his chest. “I always knew you were crazy, Brewster, but I never knew how crazy until you said that.”
“Hell, son.” Jock waved a hand at him. “You were in the SEALS. You can’t tell me you didn’t look the other way a time or two.”
“Like Sheriff Andrews does when he catches you breaking the law?” Aiden glared daggers at him. “And, I’m not your son.”
“
Stop
.” Rachel stood on her toes to peer over Tristan’s shoulder. “First things, first. Aidan, make your henchman, here, let me pass.”
His
henchman?
With a smirk at Tristan, Aidan shook his head. “I don’t think so, Rach.”
She pounded Tristan on the back with her fist. He grinned to himself, flexing his shoulders in resistance. So, the saint possessed a streak of hellion.
Very hot
.
