by Melody Anne
ALSO BY MELODY ANNE
The Billionaire Aviators series
Turbulent Intentions
Turbulent Desires
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 Melody Anne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503943285
ISBN-10: 1503943283
Cover design by Jason Blackburn
Cover photography by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign.com
This book is dedicated to another pilot, Adam Ragle. This series wouldn’t have happened without you. Here’s to a long friendship with many, many more years to come.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TEASER: TURBULENT INTENTIONS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
Somewhere in the recesses of Captain Nick Armstrong’s brain he knew he was in a very bad situation. Pain radiated from every square inch of his body, and even with his adrenaline on overload, he was aware that there was a good chance he was about to die.
The turbulent waters of the ocean were thrashing him, trying desperately to take him below the surface. Each wave slammed into him with a harsh slap that radiated through his entire body. He went under, taking in huge mouthfuls of the Pacific Ocean before surfacing, gasping for air.
Pulling out a flare from his jacket, he set it off, the crimson light nearly blinding as he looked around for other survivors from the Coast Guard helicopter crash. He couldn’t find another soul. His crew. Where was his crew? Shouting for minutes, he felt defeat try to overtake him when there was no answer.
Nick wanted to let the sea take him, as he knew it had taken the other members of his crew, people who were more family to him than friends. It had all gone so wrong―and it was his fault.
Another wave surged over him, and for the briefest of moments Nick considered not fighting the strong pull. But a flash of his mother and brothers ran through his mind, and he knew he couldn’t give up.
The Guard would know exactly where he was. They’d already have dispatched a rescue. They didn’t leave their own behind. But at this particular moment, Nick was all alone in the vast sea. They might not make it in time.
The protective suit Nick wore kept him afloat, but the injuries he’d sustained in the crash were taking him in and out of consciousness. When a hundred feet away from him there was a popping noise, he pulled himself together and almost felt like weeping. That sound meant a boat had been dropped.
Pulling himself across the pummeling waves, he managed to arrive at the inflatable boat one of his fellow Coast Guardsmen had dropped from a jet high in the sky. Luck was on his side that a carrier jet had been in the vicinity. It hadn’t taken long. They knew where he was. They were giving him hope. Now he knew what the people he’d saved had felt in those moments when they were ready to give up.
Grabbing the side of the rocking boat, he pulled himself up and over, his leg scraping against the rubber. Nick’s vision blackened as his shattered knee made contact with the edge of the boat, his body barely making it inside before he collapsed.
When he came to again, Nick was in the small vessel still being tossed about, but he was alive. He didn’t know if the sea was pushing him farther out or closer to land. It didn’t matter. His beacon would allow the Guard to follow him when the seawater pulled the small vessel in new directions. With the force of the waves and the strong winds, it might be a while before they could get there. He almost didn’t want them to attempt the rescue. He didn’t want any more deaths on his bloody hands.
Trying to stay conscious, he searched the black water until he couldn’t sit up any longer. If any of his other crew had survived the crash, the waves had taken them far away from him. Maybe they were floating on their own rafts miles away. That was the hope he clung to.
Closing his eyes, Nick thought of his family, his career, and his life. At thirty-two years old, he was the second to youngest brother out of four. His relationship with Cooper and Maverick was perfect. All three of them missed their youngest brother, Ace, who had been gone for years.
Nick couldn’t give in to the sea, couldn’t let her take him yet, not until he could mend the fences that had been put up between Ace and the rest of the family.
Being a Coast Guard pilot was hazardous. Nick was well aware of that. He loved the danger and adventure of it all, loved knowing he was heading out into the fray when the rest of the world was boarding up their windows. He loved being a hero.
He also knew the Coast Guard motto, Semper Paratus (Always Ready), was that they had to go out; yet, they didn’t have to come back home. But knowing you can die, and the reality of losing your life, were two entirely different feelings.
He wasn’t ready to let go―not yet. He refused to continue to allow himself to think negatively. If he gave up, then he would be lost. Nick closed his eyes as the sea whipped him around. He lost track of time as shades of black formed into circles before his eyes. He didn’t know when they were open or when they were closed.
As an hour passed and then two, he felt like the waves were calming, like the wind was settling. But he didn’t have the energy to pull himself up and check. His leg was broken. He was sure of it, along with other injuries throughout his body. He’d most likely lost a lot of blood, and with the intake of the salty water, he was dehydrated and he was fading.
Nick tried to focus on his family. That would give him the will to go on. His mother would be traumatized to lose him. She might not be able to bear it. His brother Cooper would be frantic by now, most likely down at the station demanding they let him come on the rescue mission.
Cooper owned an airline and loved to fly. But flying jets and choppers were two different things. If anyone could figure out a chopper’s controls on the spur of the moment, it would be Cooper, though, Nick thought with almost the hint of a smile.
Maverick would be at his base. Even being retired wouldn’t stop him from getting into the cockpit of his favorite F-18 to search for his brother. He’d grab one and dump it in the ocean just to get to Nick. Hell, his brother would probably reason that he cou
ld afford to replace the ridiculously expensive piece of military equipment anyway. That did bring a small grin to Nick’s cracked lips.
And then there was Ace. Being so helpless made Nick even more determined than ever to find his brother, to mend those fences. He swore to himself he would get home and he would find Ace.
Hell, with the names their parents had given them, it was no wonder they’d all ended up pilots, Nick thought. Their father had enjoyed flying, but the favorite of their relatives, Uncle Sherman, had really loved it. He’d been the one to give the boys the bug to be above the land and sea.
Their mother worried about their chosen professions, but she was loving and supportive. She still would be when Nick got home safe, healed, and went right back to work. She would never guilt him into quitting the job that had ultimately saved his life.
It was almost ironic that joining the Coast Guard had saved him from wandering down a dark path but also might be what took his life. But safe wasn’t in his vocabulary. Life was too short to simply exist—it was worth living for.
The brothers had all vowed to each other that no matter how dangerous a situation they were ever in, they wouldn’t give up. It was that promise that kept Nick holding on to his fading life.
He wouldn’t give up. The pain in his body was simply a reminder that he was still alive. It was a good reminder. Was he awake? Nick didn’t know anymore. But when he heard a faint noise in the distance, a familiar noise, his brain was shutting down and he couldn’t focus on it. He needed to rest. A small nap wouldn’t hurt . . .
His head spinning, Nick tried to move and found himself unable to do so. Confusion swirled as he tried desperately to remember why he was hurting and where he was.
Nothing was coming to him. Nick didn’t appreciate the unfamiliar panic beginning to creep up into his throat. He couldn’t even remember what day of the week it was, or for that matter, what month.
“I’m Captain Nick Armstrong, US Coast Guard helicopter pilot,” he said out loud, but his voice was weak and scratchy, and he wasn’t even sure if the words were audible to anyone who might be nearby.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but ended up in a coughing fit that sent spasms of pain splintering through him. Shutting his eyes, he tried to concentrate, tried to get his befuddled mind to begin making sense.
“You’re going to be okay. Hold on for just a while longer. You’ll be fine.”
Nick clung to the voice, which seemed to be coming to him through a long tunnel, the words echoing as the blinding sun burned through his closed eyelids. But just as he was turning his head, a shadow passed over his face, instantly shading him from the fiery sensation.
He cracked his lids, and gasped.
“I’m dead,” he croaked, again not sure if his words had even come out.
A light chuckle sounded like music to his ears. The angel hovering above him had an ethereal glow about her, her features blurred. Her concerned eyes were the only feature he could see clearly. He tried to lift his hand to her, telling her it was okay to take him home. Even that effort was too much for him.
With a shaking smile on his lips, he closed his eyes―and the pain faded away.
CHAPTER ONE
The wind blew briskly as Nick sat on the back deck of his house, his throbbing knee making him take a needed break. Frustration was brewing inside him as strongly as the waves crashing against the shore and the ominous clouds billowing above. The promise of a brilliant storm in the air seemed to be mirroring his life.
Though Nick was content to be out in the open, he would be much happier if he could walk through the rain and lightning, through a freaking hurricane if need be. If he could just get off of the damn deck for more than a few minutes at a time.
Nick was itching to go back to work, but his shattered knee, broken arm, three cracked ribs, and concussion had left him with limited mobility. There was something seriously wrong with the entire situation.
Nick tossed rocks off his deck, aiming for the turbulent waters off the coast of his place on San Juan Island not far from Seattle, Washington. He sighed in frustration at how far away the ocean seemed. With a shake of his head, he closed his eyes and growled. Unable to help it, he found himself thinking back six weeks earlier. It was almost as if he were back there in the hospital.
Confusion had swirled around him as he had tried to get his bearings. The bright lights had made it nearly impossible for him to open his eyes. They’d crack the slightest bit, and shooting pain would scorch from his head to his toes, so he’d shut them again.
But Nick was a Coast Guard pilot. He wasn’t afraid of pain, and he certainly didn’t fear death. He knew that every mission could be his last. He didn’t care. He’d known what he was signing up for from the moment he’d stepped into that recruiter’s office.
Blurred visions of the crew who had rescued him flittered through his muddled brain, but no matter how much he tried to focus, the images wouldn’t become clearer. By the time the medical staff had steadied him, the world had gone out of focus.
He’d lain in that hospital bed for two weeks. They’d called him a miracle. He’d been the only survivor. In his book, that wasn’t a miracle at all. And now Nick was bored and angry. That wasn’t a good combination for him. In the past, those emotions had led him down roads best never traveled again. It had gotten him into trouble. But maybe that was exactly what he was looking for now.
At least he was beginning to see improvements. His ribs didn’t hurt nearly as badly. The cast was off his arm, and though it was still slightly tender, he refused to give his body mercy. He was lifting weights mostly from a sitting position, had the pool in his house installed with special equipment, and he was pushing the upper half of his body relentlessly. His lower half wasn’t responding as well as he’d like. He’d gone through three physical therapists, all of whom had practically run from his place screaming. But Nick always searched for that sweet spot of pain while working out that reminded him he was very much alive.
He didn’t need to prolong his forced leave any longer than necessary.
Along with a weaker body, though, he was having trouble sleeping. Nightmares of his lost crew flooded him whenever he shut his eyes. So he pushed himself harder. Maybe he just needed something else to occupy his mind. His brothers sure as hell thought so. They’d told him repeatedly that even if his knee was broken, that didn’t mean all of him was.
They wanted him to let go of the anger and start living his life again. Nick wasn’t sure exactly how to do that without his job. The Coast Guard was a calling, not an employer. His brothers had told him repeatedly that he needed to enjoy the forced vacation―that he needed a woman. Nick scoffed at them. But their point was abundantly clear.
He needed sex―and lots of it. Sex was therapy, but it wasn’t necessarily the answer to everything. That thought made him laugh out loud. Maybe that had been too hasty a thought. Sex sure seemed to cure a hell of a lot, actually.
It was early morning, and the storm was growing in force. The torrential rains hadn’t started up yet, but it wouldn’t be long now. He hoped the lightning would be right on top of him, the clap of thunder shaking the windows of his place. There was nothing quite like a good coastal storm. Of course, that meant he should be performing rescues for those foolish enough to get caught out in the unforgiving sea.
Soon, he promised himself. Very soon. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet scent of the storm and then turned away from the progressively aggressive sea. It was only depressing him that he wasn’t flying over her deep waves in search of lost vessels.
“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself out here?” The sweet voice of his brother’s wife, Stormy, actually made his frown disappear.
“Don’t you think I deserve to have a bit of self-pity?” he countered as he turned to give Stormy his most charming smile.
Nick couldn’t help but notice his brother’s wife was just as beautiful as ever, with a glow in her cheeks and her lips twisted up i
nto a warm smile. If Nick weren’t so determined to sow as many oats as possible, he’d hope to find a woman just like her. But since she was taken, he’d have to be a lone wolf.
“I think pity time is over. You’re a pain in the ass, Nick, but you’re also a great man. Your brothers want to talk to you, so get your butt inside,” she told him as she held open the back door.
He put on his most pathetic expression. “Can’t you give a guy a hand?” he asked her with a waggle of his brows.
“You are utterly hopeless,” she said with a laugh. But she did step out and lean down to help him up. Of course, he could almost get around faster in the wheelchair since he’d been using it for a few weeks. That wasn’t the point, though. Nick had lost a lot in the past six weeks. He didn’t want any more backsliding.
Once Stormy got her arms around him, he grabbed the crutch that was resting beside his chair and leaned on her with his other arm until they got inside. His knee was killing him. She led him to the wheelchair.
“Sit,” she commanded. He wanted to refuse, but he’d pushed himself too hard the day before and he knew she was right.
With a glare sent her way, he plopped into the chair. But just to prove his manliness, he reached out to her with his good arm and tugged, making her fall into him, landing on his lap. His knee was well protected in the brace, plus the impact hit his thighs. There was a slight stirring of pain, but he ignored it as he kissed her forehead.
“Thanks, beautiful,” he said with a chuckle as she huffed at him before quickly jumping back to her feet.
“Nick Armstrong, you are going to hurt yourself,” she scolded him as she straightened out her clothes. He laughed and shrugged.
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” he said with a wink.
“If you would settle down and find a good woman to keep you in line, you wouldn’t be such a pain in the butt,” she said with a smile.
“I would gladly settle down if you would wise up and leave my brother,” he told her with a wiggle of his brows.
“Tempting,” she said with a laugh.