by April Hunt
“She’s the best.” Cade cleared his throat and flexed his fingers around his beer. One step at a time, Grace had told him. And the first one was always the hardest. “I’m not offering weekend fishing trips or anything right now, but I’m not against grabbing an occasional dinner together. Or maybe a few beers and a hockey game.”
The former Army Chief of Staff blinked, at a loss for words. “I…I’d really like that. A lot.”
“Good.” They talked a little more before movement across the room caught Cade’s attention. He excused himself and met Grace halfway, easing his arms around her waist and pulling her snugly against his chest.
“Everything okay?” Her eyes flicked across the room where his dad joined Roman.
“It would be better if you told me about my midnight surprise.”
She chuckled. “They call it a surprise for a reason. You’ll get to open it later. Actually, I came here to ask you if you planned on eating any of the food that’s piling up in the dining room.”
“Hell yeah, I am.”
“Then you may want to run into the kitchen and help with something…or at the very least make it look like you are, which is what Liam’s doing.”
He glanced over her shoulder. “It looks like everything’s under control. Why mess with perfection?”
“Because this year we’ve instituted a new rule: you don’t help, you don’t eat.”
Cade narrowed his eyes. “Something tells me that you’re the mastermind behind this new rule.”
She shrugged, slowly easing out of his embrace. “Guess that means Tank gets your share of the food, because he’s making his mama’s cheesy potatoes.”
“That bayou bastard’s cooking something?”
“Mm. And it smells absolutely sinful.”
“Like hell you say.” Cade stayed on Grace’s heels back to the kitchen. No way would he let that asshole soak up all the female adoration.
Zoey’s mouth dropped as she clunked a stack of dishes onto the counter the second he walked into the kitchen. “Oh, my God, it worked!”
Grace smirked. “Of course it worked. I told you, open book.”
He was missing something, and judging by the stunned faces all around him, it was something big. He shifted his attention from Grace to his sister. “Why do I feel like I’ve been conned?”
His mother plopped dishes into his hands. “Not conned, dear. Played like a fine-tuned orchestra instrument.”
“What’s the difference?”
Zoey chuckled. “The latter is more fun to watch.”
Everyone laughed.
The room was cramped, loud, the temperature near sweltering between the number of the people and the overworked oven. It was barely controlled chaos, but Cade wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“You find this is funny?” Cade eyed Grace.
“Ridiculously funny.” She giggled, her brown eyes lighting up nearly as much as the lights from the tree in the other room.
He slowly edged her against the doorjamb. “And here you almost managed to get yourself on the Nice List.”
“The Nice List is overrated.” Her gaze flickered above them to where a sprig of mistletoe hovered over their heads. She nestled closer, slowly lifting her mouth to his, and murmured, “Later tonight, I’m going to show you just how much fun the naughty list can be.”
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Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child, and the same could be said for writing a book. None of this could be possible without my family. A and N, you guys keep me humble and make me laugh when I need it most, and M, your encouragement means everything. To my mom, who always told me that I could do anything I put my mind to, THANK YOU! I’m the person I am today because of you. And to my second mom and dad—one of these days I’m going to buy the both of you pom-poms, because your cheerleading has kept me going on more than one occasion.
Sarah E. Younger…mentioning you in acknowledgments doesn’t begin to express how thankful I am to have you in my corner. I truly did win the agent jackpot with you, and I wear my #TeamSarah pin proudly.
Madeleine Colavita…THANK YOU for helping me bring my stories to the page and making them more than I could’ve possibly done on my own. P.S.: Don’t be surprised if I name a future heroine after you…And to everyone at Forever, it’s been such a pleasure to bring every book into the world with your team standing at my side. THANK YOU.
And to my #GirlsWriteNight crew—Tif Marcelo, Rachel Lacey, Annie Rains, and Sidney Halston. You are the four best sounding boards a girl could ask for, and I ask myself every day how I hit the lottery being able to call you friends.
And to my readers—I’m so appreciative of each and every one of you. I’m able to do what I love because of you. THANK YOU!
About the Author
April blames her incurable chocolate addiction on growing up in rural Pennsylvania, way too close to America’s chocolate capital, Hershey. She now lives in Virginia with her college sweetheart husband, two young children, and a cat who thinks she’s a human-dog hybrid. On those rare occasions she’s not donning the cape of her children’s personal chauffer, April’s either planning, plotting, or writing about her next alpha hero and the woman he never knew he needed, but now can’t live without.
To learn more, visit:
AprilHuntBooks.com
Twitter @AprilHuntBooks
Facebook.com/AprilHuntBooks
Also by April Hunt
Heated Pursuit
Holding Fire
Hard Justice
Hot Target (novella)
Deadly Obsession
Acclaim for April Hunt’s Novels
Deadly Obsession
“Expect masterful storytelling interwoven with sizzling tension and high-stakes suspense.”
—Cristin Harber, New York Times bestselling author
“Deadly Obsession is a page turner full of sizzling passion, gritty action, and thrilling danger!”
—Rebecca Zanetti, New York Times bestselling author
“With a spunky heroine, a hero to die for, and thrilling action, Deadly Obsession is a keeper!”
—Paige Tyler, New York Times bestselling author
Hard Justice
“4 stars! Entertaining and satisfying.”
—RT Book Reviews
“All kinds of romantic suspense goodness with a side of sexy alpha male.”
—HerdingCats-BurningSoup.com
“Intriguing, passionate, sexy, suspenseful, and at times angst-ridden and funny, Hard Justice is April Hunt at her best. A wonderful, well-written, and addictive romantic suspense read that pulls you in and doesn’t let you go. Excellent characters, entertaining plot, stellar romance.”
—OkieDreams.com
Holding Fire
“Passionate chemistry and nonstop drama drive Hunt’s second book in the adrenaline-charged Alpha Security series.”
—Publishers Weekly
“4 stars! The suspense is ever-present…and the heat between the hero and heroine is intense.”
—RT Book Reviews
“April Hunt has me hooked!”
—HerdingCats-BurningSoup.com
“April Hunt has quickly become one of my one-click authors. Her daring heroes are so damn charming. And with sassy, take-charge women by their sides, it makes for one hell of a ride.”
—NallaReads.com
Heated Pursuit
“Smartly balances slow-burning passion and explosive high-stakes danger. This book kicks off an adventure-packed romance series, and readers will eagerly anticipate the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
“4 stars! Fast paced and intriguing.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Fun and sexy.”
—SmexyBooks.com
“April Hunt creates a sexy, thri
lling, action-packed story with Heated Pursuit. I could not put this book down.”
—JoJoTheBookaholic.blogspot.com
“A fantastic, fast paced, and well developed debut! A hot alpha saving a feisty woman…what’s not to love?”
—Sidney Halston, USA Today bestselling author
“Heat, humor, and heart-pounding action! I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!”
—Annie Rains, USA Today bestselling author
Keep reading for a peek at the next book in the Steele Ops series,
Fatal Deception
Coming Spring 2020
Chapter
One
The ten-item list of things Roman Steele wanted to do today didn’t include visiting Tru Tech Industries. Hell, it didn’t make the top one hundred. Yet his dumb ass stood in the same spot it had for the last twenty minutes.
Anyone who wanted to slip something into the government-sponsored research lab short of a herd of elephants would find it all too easy. Barely old enough to sprout facial hair, the guard manning the security checkpoint flirted with a smiling redhead, oblivious to the long line of annoyed people prepping to stage a revolt. The man in front of Roman muttered under his breath and pushed right past the checkpoint.
Undetected.
Roman slid his younger brother a glare. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Chuckling, Liam shrugged unapologetically. “I told you it was going to be a lot of work.”
“This isn’t a lot of work. This is miracle-type shit—and I’m certainly no fairy godmother.”
“Tell me about it, although I wouldn’t mind if you swapped the ‘fuck off’ sign hanging over your head for pink-glittered wings. Seriously, dude. You could’ve at least dressed for the occasion.”
Roman glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. This was him dressed up.
His everyday wear consisted of either workout clothes or Steele Ops black camo. Considering that the private security firm he ran with Liam and their two other brothers, Knox and Ryder, had an emphasis on private, strutting the DC streets in tactical gear wasn’t the best idea.
They’d officially opened their doors last year, converting the historic Keaton Jailhouse in downtown Alexandria to house both their business ventures. Iron Bars Distillery and Beer Garden took up the first three floors and had quickly gained in popularity within the community. But beneath the feet of their vanilla vodka–loving customers, Steele Ops ran like a well-oiled machine.
Anti-terrorism. Covert extractions. They got shit done that the government couldn’t do thanks to bureaucratic red tape or lack of manpower. And only an elite few knew of their existence, one of them Army General Hogan Wilcox, a former member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—and his teammate Cade’s father.
Wilcox was how they’d been roped into the risk analysis assignment at Tru Tech Industries.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Roman glared at the still-oblivious guard while talking to Liam. “I don’t need to wear a suit and tie like you to know that it’s a damn miracle this place hasn’t had a security breach to date. Remind me again why you wanted me to tag along. You’re the tech guy. If there’s holes in their system you’re going to be the one who finds them.”
“Because two heads are better than one—even if that second one is yours.” Liam smirked. “It’s not like you had big plans today…or dare I say…a date.”
Roman slid his brother a glare. “And how the hell do you know?”
“Because the day ends in a ‘y,’ big brother.”
Liam wasn’t wrong. Roman couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a night out with a woman, or even a quick—naked—rumble in the sheets. Thanks to their Steele genes, Roman and his brothers had never struggled to find female companionship when they wanted it. The problem was that he didn’t want it.
Not really. He didn’t experience stress relief from sex any differently than he did from wailing on the heavy bag for an hour, or making a detour to The Cage. And anything more than a quick romp was off the table.
Been there, done that, had the below-the-knee amputation to prove it.
Relationships required trust, and the only people he counted on to mean what they said were his family and his team. End of list.
Liam cleared his throat as they took another step to the front of the security line. “I just have one request. Let me do the talking. We both know that when you open your mouth, chances are high that you’ll piss someone off.”
“I should probably be offended by that comment, but I’m not,” Roman joked dryly.
Of his three brothers, he was definitely the more solitary of the bunch. Knox, as the oldest, often paved the way, and Liam, as the youngest by a few years, often fought to keep up. Ryder usually bounced in between the two, eager to benefit from both worlds.
Roman simply chose to make his own path. He’d gone from Army to Special Forces, to being hand-selected for an international special team assignment—black ops shit at the kind of CIA installations that don’t exist.
Don’t ask, you better not tell, and if you do, your ass is grass.
Roman hadn’t needed that damn IED explosion and the loss of the bottom third of his left leg to make him untrusting. Living three years of his life on a black site where everyone had a hidden agenda did it just fine.
“I’ll keep my people skills on the down-low,” Roman agreed. “At least until someone says or does something that’s too stupid to ignore.”
Liam snorted, his gaze shifted to the older man approaching them who couldn’t be anyone else but Roger Carmichael, Tru Tech’s CEO, and the man who had called them about the possible threat against a building full of biological hazards.
* * *
Focused on the petri dish in front of her, Dr. Isabel Santiago steadied her hand and applied a drop of the FC-5 virus to the latest batch of vaccine hopefuls. The task was easier said than done, which had nothing to do with her bulky biohazard suit and rubbers gloves and everything to do with the “music” filtering into the lab through the speakers.
“I think those headaches you get have something to do with your playlist,” Isabel joked, knowing her friend and doctoral student, Maddy Calhoun, would hear from the clean room.
As Isabel’s safety spotter, Mads didn’t need to be in the Legion’s lab, and often caught up on homework or read. Tonight, however, she’d changed tactics.
“Oooh, funny. You should give up your genius creds and join the comedy club circuit. You owe me, Isa.” Maddy leaned in to the two-way mic that allowed them to have a conversation through the lab’s safety panes. “Do you have any idea what I could be doing on a Friday night? Or who?”
Beneath her headgear, Isa snortled. “That neighbor who lives on the floor above you? What’s his name? Clint?”
Maddy wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, no. Been there and not doing that again. Don’t get me wrong. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and the things he could do with his tongue? Have mercy. But afterward? There was nothing. I shit you not, Is, but we were looking up at the stars and I commented on the Milky Way, and he thought I wanted to drive to the nearest 7-Eleven for a candy bar.”
Isa swallowed a chuckle. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“It so, so was. But stop trying to change the subject. I expect payment in full for tonight.”
“I let you play your…music.”
“Not cutting it. I had a big night planned for the two of us. I’m talking slinky dresses, drinks, and did I mention that the place was owned by brothers? Brothers, Isabel. Hot gods all derived from the same gene pool.”
“Sorry to kill your plans of debauchery, but I really needed to assess this latest batch of vaccines. I shouldn’t be much longer. Maybe we can forgo the slinky dresses and hot gods and just grab a quick drink on the way home.”
Maddy pouted. “Not the same thing.”
It wasn’t.
As sad as it might be to someone with Maddy’s social stature, viruses were Isabel’s life. Ebola. Smallpo
x. She worked on all of them and a lot more in the name of the United States government. Most researchers waited their entire careers to be given the opportunity that Tru Tech Industries had given her: her own basement lab equipped with all the latest toys and gadgets. But all the tech and responsibility came at a price.
Her personal life.
Behind Maddy, the light above the Legion’s private elevator flickered on, visually alerting them that they were about to get a visitor. Only a select few personnel had the clearance to visit the Legion, so when Tru Tech’s CEO, Dr. Roger Carmichael, stepped out of the elevator, Isabel wasn’t surprised.
Until two men followed him.
Neither of them belonged at Tru Tech, much less in the lab. Dressed in a tailor-made gray suit, the man on the left could have stepped off a billionaire romance cover. Light brown hair curled over his collar, and his bespectacled hazel eyes lit up as he surveyed the room.
Where guy number one looked the part of a boardroom flunky, his sidekick was the complete opposite.
Well-worn jeans hung off a trim waist, and his dark hair hung loose, hitting his impressively broad shoulders. Everything about him, from the leather jacket and the days-old scruff covering his square jaw, screamed trouble.
And then his gaze flickered up to hers.
Isabel froze. Steel gray, and with the power to penetrate through multiple layers of protective polyglass, his eyes conjured something in her that she hadn’t felt in a damn long time.
“Un-freakin-believable,” Isabel muttered.
She shut down the sudden libido rush and exchanged it for annoyance. The Legion wasn’t on the company’s tour for a reason. One misstep or distraction could have catastrophic results, and that was something she reminded Carmichael about on the daily.
Grimacing, Maddy eyed Isa as she cleared her workspace and secured the FC-5 samples back into their pressurized containments. “I know that look. It usually comes right before—”