by Dianna Love
“Trish–”
“Stop right there. Do you really want me to move across the country, far away from you, to prove I can stand on my own two feet, without you—or any security you hire—standing guard over me?”
Zane started making a growling sound, then tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a minute. Probably praying for the patience to deal with the women in his life. Trish reasoned that it was good for his character.
Without warning, he grabbed her into one of his bear hugs. “You’re right and I hear you. I love you, sis. I just don’t want you hurt.”
Too late. Mainlining Percocet wouldn’t help the pain cutting her up inside. She hugged Zane back. “I love you, too, crazy man. I’m leaving now and I don’t want you calling or coming by. I’m fine and you have your hands full watching out for your girls.”
She kissed his cheek, stepped over and hugged Angel and kissed her niece on the head. If only someone could bottle that new-baby smell.
Outside the hospital, Trish walked to the end of the sidewalk.
A silver Porsche was parked off to the side.
Josh climbed out.
She marveled at what a chameleon he was from techno computer guy to chic designer male to warrior toting a gun.
He walked over to her. “Hi.”
“Hi. Thought you were gone.”
“I couldn’t leave yet.”
Josh wanted to kiss her goodbye. That was all.
She shouldn’t kiss him again. It would be just one more painful memory she’d miss for the rest of her life. But was that going to stop her? She put her hands on his shoulders and lifted up to kiss him. He met her halfway, kissing her with a tenderness that threatened to buckle her knees.
A couple walked by, talking about prescriptions.
Trish broke the kiss. She couldn’t stand here forever. This was a hospital. “Why are you here?”
His eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them. “I have something to tell you and we don’t have much time.”
Then just say it fast. So she could leave while she could still keep it together. She put on her best face of understanding, ready for his goodbye. “I’m all ears.”
“No, you’re all heart and sweetness.”
Her heartbeat stuttered, but she held silent so he could talk.
“You asked me about my family and I only told you pieces. I did run the streets as a kid with two other friends. I work with them now.” He went on to explain how a CIA field operative had watched Josh and his band of thieves surviving on the street. Josh looked like the man’s nephew, who’d been kidnapped and killed, so he convinced his grieving brother and sister-in-law to take Josh in as a foster child.
That led to his adoption, and to his uncle training him in intelligence work. Josh looked past her. “I was not an easy child. I wanted to be back with my friends Sabrina and Dingo, but my adoptive parents loved me enough to be patient until I realized what a gift I’d been given. Not being adopted, but being loved.”
Trish brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “I’m thankful your parents and uncle protected you so well and that your uncle gave you elite training. But I see now why you believe you can never have someone in your life, someone who loves you, and that makes me sad.”
She understood that Josh would protect what was his and not want to put a woman at risk from his world. And she wouldn’t want him to give up what he did. But living every day had all kinds of risks. She’d been in just as much danger with a man in a hotel room years ago. She’d been in just as much danger over the past few weeks from people she’d thought were her friends. If Josh would only realize that she could take care of herself.
But she would not make this any harder on either one of them.
She lowered her hand to touch his cheek. “Thank you for telling me that. I can accept what you’re saying. I hope you’ll always be safe.”
“Is that all you have to say to me?”
“What else is there to say?” God, this hurt too much. “Goodbye?”
He leaned close so that only she could hear him. “I want to hear the words you said to me in Atlanta.”
Did he mean...
“Three words, Trish. They’re mine. I want them.”
A tear trickled down her face. “I can’t do this. I understand that you live in a world of mystery and secrets for your job, but I can’t–” She stuck on the word “love” and changed it to, “–care about someone I’ll never really know.”
“Say it, Trish.”
Another tear joined the first one. What the hell? It was all she could think about day and night. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Don’t do this to me, Josh. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“That’s just wrong.” She swiped at her cheeks.
He wiped her tears with his fingers. “I love you, sweetheart. Get used to hearing it.”
“When? When will I hear it?” She held up her hand and retreated a step from him. “Once a year when you surface out of the blue?”
“What if I told you I would give up what I do?”
Trish shook her head. “I thought I couldn’t be with someone who kept secrets from me, but I’ve realized that’s not the problem. I’d never ask you to give up your work. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. It’s who you are, Josh. I’m not afraid of what you do and I don’t need to know the details of your work, but I am afraid of loving someone who doesn’t trust me with the rest of his world. And you’re afraid to have a real relationship because of your work.”
He stalked her, refusing to let her escape. “You may not want to ask me to change what I do, but I’m going to make changes, starting with shifting my work from the field to intel, which means I’ll be able to tell you how much I love you pretty damned often. Like daily.”
Could she believe his words? Did he believe his words? “Why would you change your life that much now?”
He touched her hair, twirling a curl around his finger. “I loved being an operative at one time. I thought I still wanted to do this, but my heart hasn’t been in fieldwork for a while. It took meeting you to realize I don’t have the passion for living this life any more–or for some of my assignments.”
He dropped his head and inhaled near the bit of her hair he was fondling. Drew in a deep breath, almost like he was breathing her in, and let out an even deeper, contented sigh. Little quivers started in her belly as he went on. “I work with a private security team. They deserve my best and I’ll always give that to them, but in a new capacity that will allow me to work down here. I told them this morning and they’re good with it, relieved if you want to know the truth. I may be gone a couple of days a week, sometimes, but I’ll be down here with you every other minute of my life.”
She had to look shell-shocked, because she was. “You’re serious.” She stomped on the belly quivers. This had to stop.
He took her hand in his. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
She started shaking her head. “I still don’t know who you are.”
“That’s why I want you to go to dinner with me.”
He was insane. She loved an insane man who wanted to give up his world of cloak and dagger. “It’s only ten in the morning, too early for dinner, and I have things to do.”
“Liar. Heidi said you’re free for three days.”
So now he expected her to just vacation with him for three days and then what? The fact that she was considering it said she might be just as far off her rocker as he was. She shook her head again. “I thought I could be with you then give you up, but I can’t. It will be even harder to do this in three days. Just go now.”
He put his finger on her lips. “If you have dinner with me, it will change everything.”
“Why?” she said around his finger as it traced her lips.
His eyes turned dark blue and he muttered, “I’m going to get this done then I’m going t
o get us both naked.”
“Get what done?”
“Take you to dinner. In Seattle.”
“Why? What’s there?”
“My parents. I want them to meet their future daughter-in-law.” Josh wrapped his arms around her. “That is, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me? I should probably warn you if I don’t hear yes I’m going to push for the answer I want, even though you hate being pushed. You’re mine and I’m not giving you up. Ever.”
“You want me to meet your parents. Real parents? I thought you couldn’t share their identity.”
“I made a vow to my uncle to protect them and protect myself back when I thought I could live without love in my life. But I can’t. I called my parents and told them about you. They trust my judgment and I trust you.”
She caught her breath at that. “Just who are you, Josh?”
“Joshua Ike Carron, the reigning heir of Carron Technology.”
“They’re...you’re...”
“Obscenely wealthy, which is why we can go straight to the airport. I’ll buy you whatever you need, but first I need your answer.” He took a breath and his eyes held something Trish had never seen before. Vulnerability.
He’d kept his family shielded from everyone, and now he was sharing them with her. Here was the trust she’d been looking for.
And here stood the man she wanted in her life.
She snuggled up to him. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“And you love me.” He dropped his forehead to hers.
“And I love you.”
The next Slye Temp romantic adventure
Honeymoon To Die For
She‘s convinced he’s guilty. He knows he’s not.
Can they survive long enough to prove who’s right?
Former Slye Temp agent Ryder Van Dyke faces the death penalty if he can’t find the person who framed him for murder. After six months of hell in an Atlanta penitentiary, his last hope for freedom disintegrates, and Ryder gets one shot at a commuted sentence—if he helps the FBI nail a deadly criminal - his father. But Ryder has his own agenda. Using his Special Forces skills, he’ll either prove his innocence or disappear if he can’t, because he is not going back in that cage.
FBI analyst Bianca Brady spent two long years substantiating that the head of Van Dyke Industries is guilty of funneling weapons to terrorists. Now all she needs is the evidence. When her research leads to a murder conviction for Ryder Van Dyke, Bianca sees a clear path to take down his father and quiet the voice of her best friend who died at the hands of a terrorist. She convinces the FBI to offer Ryder a deal.
Bianca’s the last person Ryder will trust after she helped convict him, but there’s only one way to get an agent inside his father’s high-security family compound – as Ryder’s legal wife. Navigating a minefield of deadly secrets, threats to national security, and a killer with a vendetta, the unlikely pair must convince onlookers that their wedding vows are real and stay alive until they uncover the truth. But when Ryder realizes Bianca is the killer’s next target, he’s forced to make a choice he never expected…give up his freedom to save the woman who’s stolen his heart.
A Sneak Peek at
Last Chance To Run
Lightning crackled nearby. Close, but not close enough.
Escape tonight or ... there was no second option.
“Come on, God, please.” Angel whispered the desperate prayer for the hundredth time since midnight. But lights still burned through Mason Lorde’s opulent compound where she’d been imprisoned for the last ten days.
She had to get over this compulsion about being honest. The last time she’d done the right thing, she’d landed in a real prison with a warden and crazy female inmates threatening her life. That had been thanks to her father.
One more thing she had to get over. Trusting any man.
Wind howled across the beveled panes, rattling the French doors and sounding cold when August weather was anything but.
“I should have asked for a hurricane instead of a thunderstorm,” she muttered under her breath. But hurricanes weren’t as prevalent along the North Carolina coast as lightning storms. All she needed was a brief power outage. Not that she had any reason to believe in divine intervention at this point in her life.
A short life if she didn’t get out of this place now.
She rolled a golf-ball-shaped compass in her hand, a dangerous stress reliever. She’d stolen it from his office, and to hell with any guilt she felt.
It would get her fingers snapped like twigs if Mason caught her with his solid gold desk toy.
No chance he’d let her off easy.
She’d learned that the hard way. Just like everything else in her life.
Mason Lorde, her dream employer. The bastard had turned into her worst nightmare. But with a conviction in her past, who could blame her for jumping at a chance for a job with a highly reputed firm? Assisting the manager in one of the warehouses for Lorde’s revered import enterprise beat cleaning toilets or scavenging aluminum cans any day.
She’d thought.
Brilliant light flashed across the heavens, illuminating the edges of the brass bed at her shoulder. She glanced at the burgundy silk duvet covering the lump she’d built with pillows. Would that gain her an extra minute?
Maybe. She hated maybe. Reminded her how often her worthless court-appointed attorney had spouted that word.
Maybe you’ll receive leniency for a first offense.
Maybe you’ll get out early on good behavior.
Neither happened.
Maybe men would stop screwing her over at some point, but she wasn’t counting on that, either.
Angel consulted her black plastic sports watch.
In sixteen minutes Kenner would begin his two a.m. round.
On the dot.
Unlike the rest of the security, the knuckle-dragging commander now in charge of Mason’s thirty-room mansion lacked any tolerance. Kenner had been brought in from another of Mason’s locations to replace Jeff, who’d overseen the property for the past ten years, according to his last screaming words.
He’d pleaded for his life.
Then Mason had ... nausea rolled through her stomach.
Another glance at her timepiece. Fifteen minutes, forty-eight seconds left.
She reached for the doorknob, desperate to flee, but paused short of touching it. She had no allies beyond patience. It wasn’t as if Kenner would repeat Jeff’s mistake. Poor Jeff, too slow on the uptake to be hanging with a bunch of killers. He’d smoked one too many cigarettes a week ago while she’d scurried down the Italian marble hallways in a fevered attempt to escape.
One of the other guards had caught her.
Mason didn’t tolerate mistakes. He’d ordered everyone to witness Jeff’s punishment. Angel, in particular. She still had bruises from where she’d been dragged outside and shoved up front for the show being performed for her benefit.
The citizens of nearby Raleigh would never believe what went on inside this private compound belonging to one of their most prominent city businessmen.
Just over six feet tall, with thick golden hair and a champion’s physique, Mason, the Nordic antichrist, had calmly raised his .357 magnum revolver to Jeff’s head and squeezed the trigger.
A deafening explosion. Then blood. So much blood.
She clenched her fists. The horror lived on, burned on the insides of her eyelids.
And the smell. Who could forget the god-awful coppery stench of fresh blood? Her stomach roiled again.
Hard to believe a week had passed. Seemed like just minutes ago. She squeezed her eyes shut and saw it all again. The hole in Jeff’s forehead. His eyes locked open in horror. The back of his head ... she swallowed and took a breath. She’d carry that brutal image for as long as she lived.
Along with the responsibility for his death.
And all because of a job she’d thought was a godsend. What had she done so wrong in her life to have ended up involved with
a criminal again?
The first time, she’d been eighteen. And naïve to the point of being clueless about drugs. That had cost her.
She’d had no reason to think her own father would take advantage of her job as a city courier and use her to mule drugs without her knowledge.
Then throw her under the judge’s gavel to save his own hide.
This time, she was not going down without a fight.
If she got out of here tonight, she had the hammer that would bring down Mason. And prove her own innocence. She patted the heavy band wrapped around her waist like a money belt. The strip of plastic held a fortune in gold coins that would bring her salvation.
Or the end of her life.
Twelve minutes, forty-two seconds until room check.
Jagged sparks flashed across the eerie sky, nearer, but still too far away. Her heart pounded against her breastbone.
Come on, God. Don’t I deserve one break?
Thunder rumbled through the black heavens, longer than it had during the two power outages earlier in the week. They were common occurrences at the estate, cured each time temporarily by generators. She’d timed the last two blackouts. Should the Almighty-in-charge-of-weather deign to knock out the main electrical feed once more, she’d have nine minutes until three thousand volts surged through the chain link fence again.
Three thousand volts or face Mason when he returned tomorrow morning – not much of a choice.
The goal was simple. Escape or die trying.
She still nursed wounds from her penance for that first attempt. Her hand unconsciously went to her sore ribs and she licked her cut lip. The guards hadn’t harmed her beyond bruising, but Mason enjoyed doling out his personal brand of punishment.
The psycho had actually gotten aroused as he’d beaten her.
In the dignified tone of a pompous professor, Mason had explained his actions. “Consider this step one in teaching you compliance and submission, Angelina.”