by Regan Black
She blinked. “What?”
“I love you. With all my heart and my soul, with everything that I am or will ever be.”
Somehow, she dragged her eyes away, aware how easy it was to get lost in his gaze. “Why now, Kyle? Ever since you returned, I’ve been trying to get you to let me love you, hoping you felt something, anything in return. Instead, you said we were friends, nothing more. You told me everything you did was for our son.”
“Of course, it was. I’d do anything for our boy.” Expression earnest, he searched her face. “What kind of father would I be if I didn’t? But Nicole, I did stuff for you too.” He kissed her then, the press of his mouth gentle, inviting her to respond. With a sigh, she gave in. Where Kyle was concerned, she’d always want him. Always.
But this time, she summoned the strength to pull away. Fighting tears, she even took a step back from him, needing to put some distance between them so she could keep her mind clear. Though her throat had clogged with emotions, she pushed the words past. “You didn’t answer my question. Why now? Why tell me you love me now?”
He dragged his hand across his face. “I’d hoped I showed you.”
Actions, not words. Any time she’d needed help, Kyle had been there immediately, no questions asked, even if what she needed didn’t involve Jacob. He’d let her move in with him, even after he’d believed she’d betrayed him. And he’d begun therapy, starting the road to helping himself recover from the demons that haunted him. He’d been steadfast and strong, gentle and kind. A perfect father. An amazing lover. The only man she’d ever truly loved.
Still, letting herself hope for more terrified her.
“I’m not sure what to say,” she began.
“Shh.” He shook his head. “Nicole, I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I was afraid, afraid I’d accidentally hurt you when I had one of my flashbacks, afraid I’d never be able to get back to the man I was before, the man you loved.”
He took a deep shuddering breath. “But I have hope. I’ve started therapy. I have a dog. I know I can be a good father—no, a great father. I was hoping you could see that, figuring I could wait. But this,” he waved a hand. “All of this has made me realize life’s too short. And I’ve never been a patient man.”
That was true. Kyle had always been headstrong, impulsive. She’d figured the army had curbed some of that out of him.
“Don’t think I only want Jacob, because I want more. I want everything, the entire package, my family—our family. I want you. So now I’m telling you, hoping my actions back up my words,” he continued. “I love you, Nicole. And, if you’ll give me a shot, give us a chance, I think we have an entire future of happiness ahead of us.” He swallowed hard, his voice raw. “The future we should have had.”
Her pulse skittered as a warm glow filled her. About to respond, she opened her mouth. But before she could speak, Jacob let out a cry of annoyance. Looking down, she saw he’d dropped his pacifier. Before she could go to him, Kyle retrieved it from the edge of his carrier and handed it to him. “Here you go, son.”
That simple action made her realize she wanted a hundred moments like that. Breathtakingly simple, yet exactly what she’d envisioned.
Once Kyle straightened again, she went to him and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his bandaged injury. She held on to her man as if her life depended on it. In fact, she suspected it did.
When he gazed down at her, she reached up and pulled him to her for a kiss. The kind of kiss that curled her toes. When they finally came up for air, she smiled at him, putting all her love and joy into that smile.
He smiled back, though she thought she saw a hint of worry in his eyes. “Well?” he finally asked. “Aren’t you going to say anything back?”
She thought about teasing him, because she knew deep down, he was aware of how she felt. “I’m surprised you really need to hear me say it,” she told him, unable to resist.
“I…”
“Actions speak louder than words,” she managed, before she had to laugh. “Kyle, you know I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, nor will I ever.”
“Whew,” he said, though he’d started grinning like a fool. “That means we can make plans and start being real family.”
“Kyle?” She kissed him again, lingering over his mouth. “We already are.”
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488093012
The Texas Soldier’s Son
Copyright © 2018 by Karen Whiddon
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
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This secret agent is back from the dead
A Silver Valley P.D. romance
Presumed a casualty of war, former Navy SEAL turned undercover operative Rob Bristol is on the hunt for a ruthless Russian mafia leader. But when beautiful US Marshal Trina Lopez captures him, he discovers there’s more at stake than their passionate past: they share a son! And to defeat a killer desperate to silence their family, Rob must risk it all.
“Not happening.” Even through her chattering teeth, the tone of her statement was sharper than she’d meant. “I mean, something between us. After the kiss. The kisses. I don’t want to lead you on.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing I’d ever expect from you. The leading me on part. As for kissing you, hell, Trina, it’s been five years. We had amazing chemistry when we were together, and that’s not gone away.”
“We had more than chemistry.” She wasn’t letting him off so easily. “If it was only a physical attraction, you going off the radar by allowing Justin to officially die wouldn’t be such a big deal.”
“I thought you were married, Trina.” His quiet wor
ds weighed heavy with what sounded an awful lot like pain. Regret.
“Not good enough, Rob. Even if I’d remarried, was still married, whatever. What we shared deserved more than you walking away when you saw me again.” She fought to keep her words aboveboard, fair. Her heart screamed at her conscience, telling her that if she were really fair she’d tell him about their son, how she’d really felt about Rob.
* * *
We hope you enjoy the Silver Valley P.D. miniseries.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Silver Valley! The Fugitive’s Secret Child was a natural fit for the SVPD series as we’re beginning a miniseries within the series. This time, instead of a crazy, lethal cult that plagued the town and our heroes and heroines in books one to four, the Silver Valley police are facing the effects of Russian organized crime as it stretches its tentacles into the otherwise picturesque, serene town.
Trina is happy as a US Marshal and the mother of five-year-old Justin, but her heart has never healed from losing the love of her life during wartime. She’d been a Navy pilot and he was the Navy SEAL she’d fallen in love with while supporting his missions into enemy territory. The darkest day of her life was when she was told that her future husband was KIA. But he left her with one gift—their son.
Rob was in fact not killed but taken into enemy captivity, which he survived, and then went on to fight as an undercover operative. This lends well to his current job as a Trail Hiker agent. When he and Trina meet again, it’s surreal and yet the most right thing that’s happened to either of them since they were torn apart.
There is so much happening in Silver Valley and it’s covered in detail on my website. Please visit gerikrotow.com/contact to sign up for my newsletter so that you don’t miss any exciting news. Also connect with me on Facebook—I’d love to see you there: Facebook.com/gerikrotow.
Peace,
Geri
THE FUGITIVE’S SECRET CHILD
Geri Krotow
Former naval intelligence officer and US Naval Academy graduate Geri Krotow draws inspiration from the global situations she’s experienced. Geri loves to hear from her readers. You can email her via her website and blog, gerikrotow.com.
Books by Geri Krotow
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Silver Valley P.D.
Her Christmas Protector
Wedding Takedown
Her Secret Christmas Agent
Secret Agent Under Fire
The Fugitive’s Secret Child
Harlequin Superromance
What Family Means
Sasha’s Dad
Whidbey Island
Navy Rules
Navy Orders
Navy Rescue
Navy Christmas
Navy Justice
Harlequin Anthology
Coming Home for Christmas
“Navy Joy”
Harlequin Everlasting Love
A Rendezvous to Remember
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To Alex—you inspire me every day.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Prologue
Winter wind blew off the Atlantic as he got out of his car across from the Norfolk, Virginia, address with the speed and agility of an eighty-year-old. At twenty-five, it sucked to be so fragile. He leaned against a wide oak tree and checked out the town house she’d purchased last year—he’d found that out on the internet.
Two years was a long time to wait. Justin Berger wouldn’t blame her if she hadn’t. A five-month affair in the desert during wartime didn’t qualify as lifetime vows. Even if memories of their time together had gotten him through a year as a POW, several near-death experiences and torture by the enemy, and led to his eventual escape and rescue. It’d be different for her; she thought he was dead.
He’d spent the last five months recovering in the best rehabilitation center on the planet, Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in the greater Washington, DC, area. Before that he’d been in Landstuhl, Germany, where they’d saved his life. The pain had been worth it. Torture with a purpose.
He still needed the cane, and the doctors were certain his femurs and pelvis would never be completely pain-free when he walked. But he was young enough to bounce back and he had the ability to return to his life. A lot of his SEAL teammates didn’t. There was no person on earth he wanted to celebrate his survival with other than her.
Finding her had been easy. He’d asked his higher-ups where she was stationed. Because of the top secret mission, an operation that had officially never existed, his assumed death and actual time as a POW were classified, too. He could have told his parents if he’d had any. A product of the foster system, he didn’t. He only had his brother, who he’d gained permission to inform he was still alive. He could tell her, too, and start life over as a civilian. If she still wanted him. His other option was to work for the CIA under a new name. It would make it nearly impossible for any future targets to research him and find out his full capabilities.
Before he walked across the street, an SUV pulled into her driveway. His gut tightened; his throat closed against the immediate lump at the sight of Trina getting out of her car, her hair pinned up as part of her Navy uniform. Her face, the long, lean lines of her feminine body, was more beautiful than he remembered. If he thought his voice could reach her, he’d call to her, give a slight wave. Anything to connect.
She opened the rear driver’s-side door and leaned in, probably for her laptop or groceries. Another car eased next to hers in the two-car driveway. A man emerged from behind the wheel. Tall, broad-shouldered, in a business suit and topcoat. Dread combined with months of fearing this exact scenario. It poured through his veins, temporarily paralyzing him on the spot. They wouldn’t notice him as the street was wide, with several cars parked along both curbs. The tree provided him excellent cover. Protection he hadn’t expected to need.
He watched as the man walked over to Trina, who waited for him with a large bundle in her arms. A child, a toddler, dressed as a boy. In a bright green parka, with a cartoon hero ski cap, the little tyke clutched a construction truck in his mittened hand. The man took the boy into his arms and laughed, holding him overhead for a quick moment before hugging him to his massive chest and leaning down to kiss Trina on the cheek.
She hadn’t waited. She’d found another and had a child. Trina had her own family now. He’d known it was possible, probable, but still, he’d have bet against it. Hoped she’d mourned for him, needed him. He was caught between the tragedy of his own sorrow and disappointment, and the darkly sick humor of having to struggle to stand upright, quietly, under the large oak tree. If she looked over she wouldn’t recognize his shattered silhouette; she’d only see what looked like an older man with a cane. But he didn’t want to take any chances that she’d see him. If she got the quickest glance at his eyes, she’d see without a shred of doubt that he was a man with an irreparably broken heart.
As soon as they disappeared into the townhome, he arthritically folded himself back into his v
ehicle and drove away, refusing to look back.
So it was to be the CIA job. Justin Berger had been dead to her, to the world, for two and a half years. Now it’d be forever.
CHAPTER 1
Three and a half years later
Rob Bristol was pissed off, tired, hot and horny. Not all in that order, but close enough for government work. He shot back the rest of his electrolyte-enhanced water, keeping his gulps silent. As he stretched his neck with a couple of creaky turns of his head he remained vigilant, doing a 360-degree scan of his perimeter. Once settled back on his stomach, he wrapped his arms around his precision sniper rifle and adjusted the sight. His shoulders ached, as did much of his skeleton. Another reminder that his days as a top-secret operative were nearing their end, twenty years earlier than for most.
“Gosh-damned boonies.” The Trail Hikers had once again sent him out to the most dangerous, remote operation the government shadow agency was involved with. In the continental US, anyhow. He couldn’t complain about his employer, though. Rural northern Pennsylvania was still better than Kandahar or the depths of a jungle on the worst day. It was his home country and he had quick access to anything he needed, from weaponry to foodstuffs. He enjoyed life as a civilian secret agent almost as much as he’d loved being a Navy SEAL or CIA agent. He dug the added benefit of being able to choose his missions these days. For the most part. He’d wanted to participate in another especially tricky op that involved travel to Ukraine and Russia. Claudia Michele, his boss and Trail Hikers director, had nixed it. She didn’t care that he’d already completed several successful missions against Russian organized crime in Eastern Europe and New York City. Said his talents were better spent in the former honeymoon capital of Pennsylvania, where a ROC crime boss was reportedly holed up. A mobster who’d eluded the FBI and all other law enforcement agencies.