Supernova

by Desiree Holt

  Fifteen minutes after Ed and Elias left, a nurse knocked on the door jamb of the waiting room.

  “Family of Mallory Kane, I take it?”

  “Yes.” Rocket stepped forward. “I’m her fiancé.”

  “Then come along with me.”

  “What’s the room number?” Blaze asked. “Rocket, you need some alone time with her first. We have phone calls to make and arrangements to see to. We’ll be up in a while.”

  He thanked them and followed the nurse. An elevator ride took them up two floors, then she led him down a long, wide corridor to a corner room that he was sure was big enough for four people. He hurried to the bed but stopped short at its side, his eyes focused on Mallory.

  She lay still and white, surrounded by beeping machines. Only one arm was in the hospital gown she wore, exposing the heavy bandages wrapped around her chest. She was almost as pale as the sheets and heavy circles darkened the skin below her eyes. How had he not been able to protect her from this? How had it happened that she was the only one who had been shot?

  “I’d be gentle,” the nurse told him in a soft voice, “but you can hold her hand. She’ll be able to sense you being here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am. I’ve been doing this for a long time. Go on. Get close to her.”

  Rocket pulled the chair close to the bed, lowered himself into it and reached through the siderails to take Mallery’s hand. It was cold, but when he pressed the tips of his fingers to her pulse, he could feel the slow, steady beat of her heart. He wasn’t ready to relax, but he felt a little better.

  He was definitely taking Mallory home with him. She’d told him she was a nomad. Both parents were dead and it was just her and Alicia. She’d lived in a lot of different places. Now she could make Tampa her home.

  They could talk about her plans after she was on the mend, but he’d already made up his mind. He was taking her home with him and putting a ring on her finger the first chance he had. And whatever she had planned for her future, it would be with him. He could hardly wait to see her settled in his house.

  Life was looking good and the future was bright.

  At least once they got out of here and could plan for it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mallory muted the television and picked up the mug of coffee.

  “Santa Marita is still all over the news.” She looked at Rocket, who was intently reading on his tablet. “Find something interesting there?”

  “An interview with Benito Alcante. He’s really got his act together.”

  “He’s been back in Santa Marita for a month now. I’m gathering from your comment things are going the way he wants them to?”

  “To say the least. He gathered most of the people who were on his father’s staff as well the top officials in the military. It took a week or so, but they’re all back in place and cleaning up the mess Barrera made.”

  “Inez and her parents are back on the island and picking up the pieces of their lives.” Mallory sipped her coffee. “I owe my sister big time for that. From what I understand through Inez and from what you’ve told me, Barrera just quite literally stormed the island, killed President Alcante and took over, bringing in his drug business and killing the rest of the agriculture.”

  “That’s true.” Rocket set his tablet to the side and turned to Mallory. “The population is damned glad to have gotten rid of him. I understand they gave Alcante an impromptu parade the day he flew in with his people as well as the army officers Barrera had tried to have killed.”

  “I hate to see people celebrating someone’s death, but in this case, I might make an exception.” She set her mug back on the coffee table. “What happened to all the cartel customers? Did they get the word or did they just show up, demanding to know what was up with their business?”

  Rocket laughed. “I’m sure you know the US Drug Enforcement Agency is able to work internationally as long as they have an arrangement with a country’s police.”

  “I do. In fact, I plan to do a lot of reading up on it.”

  “So Benito Alcante resurrected Santa Marita’s police force and assigned four of the top men to work with our DEA. The drug dealers Barrera cultivated arrangements with are either looking for new suppliers or spending time in someone’s jail. In fact, the United States has sent people from a number of different agencies to not only help put Santa Marita back in business and better than ever, but we’ve offered ongoing help.”

  “President Alcante must be thrilled.”

  “To say the least.” He grinned. “Your sister twisted a few arms for this, too.”

  “I think my sister would have thrown herself at you and kissed you all over the day we came home and she arrived here to see me for herself.”

  Rocket laughed. “I should be kissing her. If not for her, I might never have reconnected with you, stupid idiot that I was.”

  They had talked about that many times since they’d arrived in Tampa. Mallory had settled very comfortably into Rocket’s home. As soon as she was really on her feet, they were going to do some shopping to make it a ‘them’ house instead of a ‘him’ house. There was no argument about the fact that they’d be living together from now on. And if she wanted a more solid arrangement, well, she was sure they’d get there when the time was right.

  She’d sold her condo in Houston, including all the furnishings. Rocket refused to let her travel and go through the effort of packing her stuff while she was still healing.

  However, Peyton West and Hannah Modell, who were engaged to two of the Galaxy partners, had both visited a few times. The three women had connected immediately and had volunteered to take care of Houston for her, despite her protests. They’d handled it very well and all her personal belongings had been shipped. Little by little, she was opening the boxes and putting things away.

  Rocket had taken himself out of the action for the duration, despite her protests.

  “I’m doing fine,” she kept telling him.

  “And I want to make sure nothing changes that.”

  This whole week she’d actually felt more like herself and begun some light exercise. And started compiling notes on her laptop.

  “What did your agent say about your proposal?” Rocket asked.

  “Considering the headlines plastered everywhere about Santa Marita and the fact that it leads almost every newscast with the latest events, she’s pretty excited. She wants the outline and the first three Chapters by the end of the month.”

  “She’s savvy,” Rocket pointed out, “and wants to move on this while it’s still current news.”

  “I think she’s looking at the long haul. It will be a year before the book comes out. But by the time I finish it, I can add more details about Santa Marita’s current situation. I think this story will be hot news for quite a while.”

  She took the last sip from her coffee and curled up in a corner of the couch.

  “I think you’re right,” he agreed.

  “So what’s on the agenda today? I feel better every day and I’d love to see more of the Tampa area, since I’m going to be living here.”

  “Well.” He slid over and placed her legs on his lap, gently massaging her feet. “I thought maybe we’d do some jewelry shopping.”

  The look in his eyes was very intent and filled with emotion. A tiny thrill wriggled its way through her.

  “Oh? Need some trinkets, do you?”

  He slid a hand up one leg and eased it beneath her sleepshirt.

  “I have a particular trinket in mind, since you asked.”

  “Such as?” she teased, watching his face very carefully.

  “I was thinking along the line of matching engagement and wedding rings. What do you think about that?”

  The look in his eyes was so intent it burned into her. His hand had crept up to the tiny thong she wore to bed and eased the fabric aside.

  “I think—” She gasped as a finger slid between the slick lips of her sex and began a slow ru
bbing motion. “I think it’s a great idea. Ohhhhh.”

  “I’ve never said the words,” he told her, keeping up the steady rubbing motion. “But I can’t imagine my life now without you. I love you, Mal, more than I ever thought I could love a woman. I want you with me. Always.”

  “I feel the same,” she whispered, using her hips to press against the touch of his hand. “Oh, god, Rocket. Don’t stop.”

  “Didn’t plan to.” He pinched her clit, sending sharp arrows of heat coursing through her.

  “We’ll have to coordinate with Peyton and Hannah. They were here first, after all.”

  “Logistics. That’s easy. You ladies can work it out.”

  Now he’d eased two fingers inside her wet heat.

  “Oh, god.”

  She dug her fists into the couch cushion for leverage as she pressed her body into his touch. When she tried to move, to get into position to straddle his lap, he used his other hand to hold her in place.

  “Uh-uh. Just like this. In case I haven’t told you, finger fucking you is one of my great pleasures in life.”

  “Oh, good.” She could hardly catch her breath. “Because having you do it is one of mine.”

  She pressed against his touch again, riding his hand. More tremors rippled through the walls of her sex and she did her best to ride his hand, even as he held her in place. But when she was so close to the edge that she was sure she’d explode, he suddenly removed his hand, stood up and pulled off the sweatpants he’d thrown on earlier.

  She took a moment to drink in the sight of his body, all hard muscle and a dusting of black hair making his chest even sexier.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Come back.”

  “I’m here,” he murmured, a rough edge defining his voice. “Right here.”

  He knelt between her spread-wide legs, lifting them over his shoulders so every bit of her sex was exposed. Holding his shaft in one hand and separating the lips of her sex with his other, he poised for a moment at her entrance then, with a hard thrust, buried himself inside her.

  “Oh, god!”

  The feel of him was just as incredible as the first time. Rocket braced his hands on either side of her, drew in a breath and began to thrust in and out, hard then harder, more then more. Mallory dug her heels into the small of his back to lock them together and gave herself over to the storm. It went on and on, heavy spasms that shook both of them. Nothing existed but the two of them. Together.

  Finally, the spasms subsided, leaving her weak and spent, her heart thudding so loud she wondered he didn’t hear it.

  Slowly he eased her legs down and braced himself with his hands on either side of her body.

  “I love you, Mal.” His voice was thick with emotion. “More than I can even express.”

  “I love you, too.” She smiled. “And I’d say that was a pretty good expression.”

  “We’ll have a lot more of those for a very long time.”

  He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. She gave silent thanks for the Fate that had brought him back into her life. She could hardly wait for the rest of their future to begin.

  Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!

  Corporate Heat: Where Danger Hides

  Desiree Holt

  Excerpt

  Hell and damnation.

  Taylor Scott never swore, but after this week—this day—she’d acquired a number of words not previously found in her vocabulary.

  She hitched her five-foot-four-with-heels body onto one of the two vacant barstools. Turning sideways, she looked at herself in the mirror behind the bar. She saw a tumble of auburn hair and emerald-green eyes. The conservative navy suit and silk blouse looked only slightly the worse for wear after the day’s confrontation. The heavy gold hoops in her ears shone even in the subdued light the cocktail lounge afforded.

  Not bad, she thought, critically assessing herself. Not a showstopper. Breasts too small, hips too wide, thighs a little plumper than she’d like. But she made the best use of her assets. Certainly not someone to get tossed out into the street, so to speak.

  She wasn’t much of a bar sitter—not even a bar visitor, truth to tell—and she’d really wanted one of the small tables, only they were all full. But she needed a drink, something to make her forget the fact that in the short span of seven days she’d learned her entire life had been a lie. The letter from her grandmother was folded in the pocket of her jacket, a slim sheet of stationery filled with words that had destroyed everything she’d believed about her life up until now.

  “What can I get for you, miss?”

  Taylor snapped her head up. The bartender had placed a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of her. Now he waited patiently for her, this stocky blond with eyes that said he’d seen and heard it all and an expectant look on his face. What did one drink to get drunk? Her experience was limited to a small selection of good wines and Bloody Marys at Sunday brunches. Wait. The partners in the investment firm where she worked always drank Jack Daniel’s at corporate functions. Black, whatever that meant. She guessed it was as good a choice as any.

  “Jack Daniel’s Black, please.” She tried to sound authoritative.

  “Rocks or neat?”

  She frowned. Why does ordering a drink have to be so complicated? “Oh, um, rocks, please.”

  She was hyperaware of her surroundings. The walls of the bar were a rich, polished oak as was the paneling of the bar itself. The tables were oak planking, with chairs covered in soft-looking leather. The lighting, discreetly recessed, gave patrons the illusion of a cloak of darkness. Soft music drifted into the air from hidden speakers, an effective sound screen for couples with their heads inclined toward each other in an intimate fashion.

  “Your drink, ma’am.”

  The bartender placed a glass filled with deep amber liquid and ice cubes on the tiny square of napkin and set a glass of water next to it.

  “In case you wanted a chaser.” He gave her a half-grin.

  She picked up the glass with both hands and took a healthy swallow. The first splash of the liquor on her tongue was a sharp bite of smoky flavor, a burning sensation she was unprepared for that brought tears to her eyes and made her cough.

  “I wouldn’t chug that like lemonade if I were you. Here.”

  The voice was so deep and rich it sent fingers of heat skittering along her spine and tiny pulses throbbing at the heart of her sex. A strong masculine hand held out a snow-white handkerchief which she grabbed without thinking. She blotted her eyes then picked up her glass of water and drained half of it. Then she looked up to see who’d come to her rescue.

  Predator. That was the first word that came to mind. An unfamiliar thrill of forbidden temptation shot through her body at the sight of the man sitting at an angle to her right. Broad shoulders and hands with long, slim fingers. A face full of sharp planes and angles with a straight nose and sensuous lips but a totally unreadable look. Eyes blacker than coal under lashes thicker than hers. Black hair worn long and tied back with a thin strip of leather.

  There was something feral about him. Wild. Untamed. Dangerous. Powerful energy radiated from him and battered against her body, all of it barely tamed beneath the civilized cloak of a custom-tailored suit and silk dress shirt. An unbidden image flashed in her mind of him naked, his dark hair loose, the muscles of his bronzed body rippling in the sunshine. A panther, that was what he reminded her of. And for a brief moment she wanted to lose herself in the jungle.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Panther? Is that a code word?”

  Oh, God, did I say that out loud? “Pay no attention to anything that comes out of my mouth tonight.” Heat crept up her cheeks. “My mind isn’t functioning properly.”

  His eyes burned into her and she shivered. Good sense told her to get as far away from this stranger as possible before she found herself in a situation beyond her control. Her lovers had been pitifully few and disappointing and none had made her blood heat and moisture p
ool between her legs the way one look from this stranger did. She wondered what it would be like to have hot, sweaty sex with him. Muscles deep in her body contracted.

  She almost laughed. Her grandparents would turn over in their graves if they knew such a thought had even entered her mind. Good. They deserve a little grave-spinning after what they did to me.

  Taylor knew she should finish her drink, go to her room and try not to think about how her life had been blown to little pieces. Or about today’s humiliating episode. But resentment had been boiling inside her for a week and what had happened today had set a match to all that growing bitterness. The ruthless discipline she’d allowed to be imposed on her all her life had all been for nothing. For a lie.

  When the attorney handling her grandmother’s estate had handed her the letter detailing the monstrous charade she’d been living, she’d received the shock of her life. Nothing had been the way she’d thought. She wasn’t even Taylor Scott, really. At this point she didn’t even know just who the hell she was. But she did know who she didn’t want to be.

  Maybe now it was time for her to find out what life had to offer. To taste the forbidden fruit she’d always denied herself.

  She handed back the fine cotton handkerchief, noticing his strong, lean fingers as she did so. The brief contact sent heat rocketing through her. “Thank you. I, um, swallowed a little more than I intended.”

  He nodded toward her glass. “You need to sip that stuff slowly, not throw it down. Good whiskey is meant to be savored.”

  “I know that.” She straightened her back and tossed her hair. “You think I don’t know how to drink good whiskey?”

  She thought a smile ghosted across his mouth, but the hint of it disappeared at once.

  “I think your drinking habits are your own business. I was just offering a little friendly advice.” He nodded at the bartender and lifted his glass.

  “Well, you can keep the advice but thank you for the use of your handkerchief. I’m fine now.” Liar!

  “Good. Happy to be of help.”

  Taylor finished the rest of her drink in small swallows and tried to ignore the man next to her. The liquor traced fire through her blood but left untouched the cold spot sitting inside her like a block of ice. She raised her hand and motioned to the bartender.