Circle of Deception
CARLA SWAFFORD
Dedication
To my sister and brother
Acknowledgments
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I’M FORTUNATE TO be a Romance Writers of America member in three Alabama chapters: Southern Magic, Gulf Coast, and Heart of Dixie. They are filled with some of the most talented and giving authors imaginable. Thank you for being so good to me.
Contents
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Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
An Excerpt from Circle of Desire
An Excerpt from Circle of Danger
About the Author
By Carla Swafford
An Excerpt from Nights of Steel by Nico Rosso
An Excerpt from Alice’s Wonderland by Allison Dobell
An Excerpt from One Fine Fireman by Jennifer Bernard
An Excerpt from There’s Something About Lady Mary by Sophie Barnes
An Excerpt from The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda by Sophie Barnes
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
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THE NAKED MAN swayed back and forth, his ankles bound by duct tape and rope to a massive hook suspended from the ceiling. A bare light bulb at the end of a long wire swung in the opposite direction, casting drunken shadows across every inch of his sweat-coated skin.
Abby Rodriguez’s gaze followed the movement of Rex Drago’s body as if watching a tennis match in slow motion.
“Enjoying the view?” His bored and resigned tone barely hid his sarcasm. Even upside down, his eyes taunted her.
“Yeah. Actually, I am.” She sat cross-legged a few feet away on the warehouse floor, her favorite Sig in one hand, resting on her knee. “You’ve been working on your abs. Got them looking good. Almost an eight-pack. Maybe you could get a job modeling for romance novels.” With his big arms tied behind his back, she admired how the muscles expanded each time he struggled with the tape. A sparse swirl of hair rested between his pecs and trailed to a thin line over his abs toward his groin.
“Funny. Real funny.” He cleared his throat. “Get me down.”
“Having a problem with your sinuses? I guess hanging like that”—she waved in his direction—“bottom up, could cause a problem. Kind of chilly in here too.”
“Where’s Jack and Nic?” His coal-black hair, cut high and tight, almost brushed the floor with each pass. She missed his long hair but the military style gave him a more deadly look. Heaven and Hell knew he already intimidated enough people with his six-foot-five height.
“Nic is monitoring the silent alarm, making sure it’s off and no backup wired in. Jack’s somewhere nearby, probably taking out the guard we spotted in the back that Savalas left behind.”
Tilting her head, she looked a little harder at the tattoos running across his biceps on each arm. She never remembered seeing them on him before. Motivated less from curiosity than from her attempt to avoid staring at what dangled from his groin. Oh, yeah, that appendage had always been worth admiring, but the man already had an ego the size of . . . well, of his cock, and he needed no one stroking— For goodness’ sake, her mind refused to stay on the problem at hand. Hand? Her gaze darted to his gorgeous penis and then away.
She sighed. Every time she worked with Rex, her libido revved up at the most inappropriate times. The man oozed sex appeal. With cheekbones to die for and eyes of a clear gray ringed by darker gray, Rex had looks that were saved from being too perfect by the scar that ran across his nose and near the corner of his lip to a point on his left cheek. Then again, the scar only added to his aura of danger.
He growled. “Are you planning on cutting me down anytime soon?”
She grinned big, knowing how much he hated depending on anyone’s help. “Well—”
“Abby, dammit! Quit playing around.” His body began swinging harder as he fought the ties.
“Is that any way to talk to a friend?”
“Some freaking friend,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” She looked a little harder at one of the tattoos. Tiny writing around a delicate Valentine heart appeared to move as he flexed his bicep. Was it for a current girlfriend? Weird, he’d never been into visual displays of love. Even when he’d asked her to marry him years ago, it had been during a private moment and more of a statement than a proposal. Things changed. People changed.
Gunfire echoed through the large warehouse. What trouble had Jack stumbled across? Time for her to quit teasing the big baby swinging frantically in front of her and let him go.
“If I ever get down from here, I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours red.”
“Ha! That’s no way to talk to the person who’s saving you.” She almost flinched when his glare turned to ice. Those beautiful eyes used to be filled with love when he looked at her, but no longer. Years ago, she’d made sure of that.
The jingle of a gun strap caught her attention. In a smooth move, she twisted, aiming her gun at the person behind her.
“What the fuck!” Jack Drago, Rex’s brother, jumped out of her Sig’s sight, clutching an M4 rifle across his torso. “Quit being a pain in the ass and cut him down. Savalas has more men coming and we don’t have time for you two to reminisce.” He glanced over his shoulder, checking the perimeter.
“I don’t need help, especially hers.” Rex continued to glower at Abby.
She wanted to laugh, but at the same time, the thought of Rex being killed scared her more than she wanted to admit. No way would she ever let him know that. She’d broken his heart once and he’d done the same to hers. She planned to never let it happen again.
“Fine, then! I’ll put you out of your misery.” She raised her gun and pointed it at Rex.
“Wait! Hold on! Abby, dammit!” He twisted and struggled with the binding around his wrists, causing his body to flop around like a hooked trophy fish.
The shot reverberated in the large warehouse and cut off Rex’s shouting as he fell to the floor. She’d always been an excellent shot, and the little bit of duct tape and rope never had a chance.
“For Pete’s sake, what the hell’s going on here? Rex?” Nic ran to the big guy moaning on the floor. Her ball cap flew off, releasing a short ebony braid. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Did she shoot you? Tell me where you’re bleeding.”
“Abby, dammit! You could make a preacher cuss. What if he’d cracked open his skull? We don’t need to be slowed down dragging his big ass out of here.” Jack nudged Abby to the side and stood over his brother while Nic cut the rope and tape off his wrists and ankles.
“My last name is Rodriguez,” Abby said, arms folded over her chest. She secured the Sig in her shoulder holster. Frustra
tion stiffened her back and lifted her chin. She refused to let the men browbeat her.
“What?” Jack squinted at her in confusion.
“You and Rex obviously think my last name is dammit.” She concentrated on staring back at Jack while Nic rattled on about Rex’s cuts and bruises. She hated seeing the other woman fussing over him. For some inane reason, she wanted to be the one to do it.
Rex stood, drawing her reluctant attention as he rubbed the marks left behind by the bindings. He towered over Nic. Abby wanted to push her out of the way and run her hands over his hard body, checking for broken bones, making sure he was okay.
“You’re crazy,” he said, glaring at her.
That snapped her out of the mushy feelings. One eyebrow lifted, she said, “Yes, I am. And don’t you forget it.” With a flip of her hair, she sauntered off.
REX WATCHED THE come-hither sway of her hips as she strolled away. One day her smart mouth would push him too far. Then he’d pull her over his knee and give that nice round bottom the spanking it deserved. Only thing was, his hands would want to roam into darker, moister, hotter areas of her body.
He dragged his gaze to the woman standing next to him.
“Out in the van, I got you a new cell phone with all the fancy gadgets on it that you like. Plus, the prettiest Glock .357 with a buttload of magazines. Should be enough ammo to make mincemeat out of anyone who tries to take you again,” she said. Nic Savage was the OS Sector’s chief security officer. Though her job normally confined her to headquarters, she’d somehow convinced Jack to let her tag along on the rescue mission.
The OS, the Onyx Scepter, had recently reunited with its parent organization, The Circle, becoming one of the many sectors under its umbrella. The overall purpose of The Circle as a hired gun of the world had evolved over the years until it had nearly imploded when one of its founders decided to kill his former operatives. Now under a saner—though by how much was still up for debate—leader, Arthur Ryker, The Circle was in the midst of redefining its role in the dangerous world of protection. While the OS, possessing the elite of the deadly operatives, continued to run the riskier missions, The Circle worked on recruitment, training, logistics, and other less-risky operations.
Certain aspects and agendas of the organization Rex would most likely never understand or know, no matter the position he held, but basically The Circle, with the OS doing the dangerous work, was on the right track, no longer killing for killing’s sake.
“You don’t have anything that will fit me in that bag of tricks of yours, do ya?” He nodded to the backpack Nic carried over her shoulder.
“Yeah. Abby gave me a heads-up when she spotted you.” She tossed a bundle his way.
He caught the clothes and pulled on black jeans, sans his normal boxer briefs—none were in the pile—and a T-shirt. Instead of turning away and watching for trouble, Nic soaked in his every move. Her face flushed and dark eyes heated in admiration.
Rex sighed. He appreciated her helping out, like with the clothes and weapons, but he really wished she’d show a little more restraint during the mission. She was kindhearted and had a crush on him the size of Stone Mountain. When he’d been in a low spot in his life, he’d let her crawl into his bed. She’d been a soft willing body, the warmth he needed to get through the nights after he’d lost his fiancée. He’d given in to Nic a few more times over the years, but he thought he’d been clear. They would never be more than friends. They had merely scratched an itch.
Then a little over nine months ago, he’d tried to explain they wouldn’t be getting together again. How could he? He’d found out the woman he loved was still alive.
Abby.
One day they were in love, planning to get married, and then the next, while on assignment in Peru, he’d received the news she’d been captured by The Circle. At the time, a psycho named Theo Palmer controlled the reins of The Circle, and a lot of operatives were dying. The horror of the following weeks blurred together. Then it all came to a screeching halt when the pictures of her burned body turned up on the Internet.
Nausea bubbled in his stomach. He fought the sick feeling that always returned when he remembered the pictures. Rubbing his eyes, he shook off the memory. That had been a bleak period in his life.
For five years he’d believed she was dead. Then she’d helped a friend escape The Circle last year and returned safely to the OS. She was different. Colder, more dangerous than that gun she carried with her at all times. He’d heard she’d called herself A. J. during the time she worked for the evil son of a bitch Palmer. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around the thought of her accepting that way of life. The Circle under Palmer invoked nightmares many would never overcome. The ex-commander had claimed others had attacked Abby, but evidence uncovered so far pointed to Palmer being the one who had ordered her beaten before she was brought into their fold. Who knew his reasoning? But the man rarely did anything without an ulterior motive.
Over and over again, he’d tried to get her to talk to him about her time there, to explain to him how she’d been alive and working for the organization they’d considered the enemy, and why she hadn’t returned to the OS years earlier. He was so freaking tired of trying to piece everything together.
Instead, she treated him like a mongrel in the midst of a purebred kennel. She danced away from him every time he came near, snapping and taking nips from his hide with her smart-ass comments. Yet he still had more pain to endure.
The whispers began. He wished he could close his eyes and tell them they lied, but too many facts pointed to one person. His bastard of a brother loved taking other men’s women to bed and Abby’s name topped the list.
His brother had left the OS years before to work for The Circle. At that time, the rumors spread between the organizations that Jack had been in love with Theo’s mistress and later had a fling with another operative’s wife. No woman in a relationship appeared to be safe from his brother’s attention.
Though it had been years since they were lovers, Jack and Abby were still chummy. So Rex watched his ex-fiancée and his brother tease each other and pretend to be comrades in arms and nothing else. But he knew. The hell he knew. They still shared a connection, probably friends with benefits, and he had no idea how to change it.
“Rex?”
How many times had Nic called his name? He pulled his gaze from the direction his traitorous brother and Abby had gone.
“What?” He bent down to slip on his socks and tie his boots. When he straightened, he squeezed his eyes shut for a couple seconds as the room shifted and spun.
“Are you coming?” Nic tilted her head toward the exit. “I’ve got the van running outside the door.”
He blinked and rubbed his eyes again to clear the fuzz outlining her silhouette in the dim warehouse. Hanging upside down for a few hours would affect anyone’s equilibrium. After a deep breath, he shifted his chin, hoping to make his ears pop and clear his head.
One lesson he learned that day was to never turn his back on the likes of Mikolas Savalas.
All he’d had to do was pick up a sample of the new ammo hitting the black market, ammo that several local terrorist groups were dying to get their hands on. The briefcase filled with money was a simple thank-you to Savalas.
When Rex walked into the warehouse near Atlanta, he’d been greeted by some of Savalas’s men and several others he hadn’t recognized. In seconds, and with no ammo in sight, guns were pointed at his head and the money was gone. Why had Savalas double-crossed him? What happened to honor among thieves? One thing was for sure—he couldn’t wait to get his hands around that fat bastard’s neck. Maybe he’d string him up naked and see how he liked it. Until then, he needed to get back to the OS Sector and track down the shipment.
From what Rex had heard about the ammo, it had to be a bunch of bullshit. It wouldn’t be the first rumor about a high-tech bullet. No way could it be as dangerous as what they said, but he wanted that shipment, regardless of what was i
nside.
Feeling sure of his balance now, he nodded at Nic and started toward the door. After no more than ten steps, he became light-headed and stumbled. Hell, being dropped on his hard skull hadn’t helped. He reached out to a nearby stack of crates and misjudged the distance, causing them to wobble. The top one crashed to the floor, barely missing his feet, and spilled its contents.
The first thing he noticed was the shoebox-sized plastic green boxes. They appeared to be the normal dry storage types for stowing several rounds of ammo. He slowed to a stop. One of the boxes had popped open. Something looked strange inside. Instead of the usual fifty-round cardboard cases, individual cartridges sat in their own small bubble-wrapped pockets. A long silver cartridge, jarred out of its slot, rested on top of the others. Grooves ran from the tip to the base of the silver cartridges. Rex had seen photos of them; yet seeing the real deal sent a chill sliding down his spine and filled his gut with apprehension.
When he’d arranged to meet with Savalas, he’d been working a lead on a large ammo shipment for the Inferno, an organization that believed the only way to bring in a new world order was to see the old one burn. The Savalas family was known to dabble in anything illegal but normally stayed away from the more exotic, hazardous merchandise.
He picked up the cartridge on top. Its design wasn’t the only thing different. The Circle had heard the ammo was more dangerous than an armor-piercing type. A microchip the size of a period in a sentence placed at the tip of the bullet turned it into a miniature guidance missile. The design helped it to go through buildings and find the warm bodies inside. The little piece of metal could even seek out people within several yards of its maximum trajectory. That meant it could change course on its own. The sniper didn’t have to be an excellent shot.
And that wasn’t all it could do. A special chemical coated the bullet, so whoever it hit would explode into flames on contact. That was why the Inferno wanted it and started calling it Hell’s Purifier. The space-age deadliness of the ammo scared the bejesus out of him. He only hoped the rumors were full of shit.
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