Reilly's Promise

by Christyne Butler

  Using his teeth to peel away her stockings and panties was still an unfulfilled fantasy. At least until later tonight.

  “Straighten up and fly right, Marine.”

  Reilly grinned, his body automatically responding in more ways than one to the whispered command. He turned to find Cassandra had joined him in the corner of the festively decorated living room.

  Flickering candles, yards of evergreen and what seemed like an explosion of wooden nutcrackers, Santa figures and decorated miniature houses covered every inch of Heaven’s Gate. He’d counted at least four different Christmas trees throughout the house, the dominant one being the twelve footer in the far corner, decorated with white lights, long lengths of red ribbon and ornaments from both Cassandra’s childhood and his own.

  On a trip home to Texas over Thanksgiving, his first time back at the Carrington mansion since he’d left over twenty years ago, Rann had offered a stack of boxes containing holiday decorations their mother had stashed away. Some were from before she married, when she and Reilly had celebrated the holidays alone with a scraggily excuse for a tree and few presents.

  The fact she’d kept them, long after designer ornaments hung from the Carrington Christmas tree, meant the world to him. As much as the hand-blown, glass ornament of the Marine Corps emblem he’d found wrapped in its own box. Rann had told him their mother had ordered the ornament specially made after Reilly joined the Corps and she’d insisted it be hung on the tree every Christmas after that until the year she died.

  He’d seen the tears in Cassandra’s eyes while he held the ornament and again, when she stood by his side at his mother’s grave. His own tears had blurred his vision, but it had helped to be there. With a deep breath, a heartfelt prayer and a moment of forgiveness, a profound weight had lifted from him. Forgiving his stepfather, and himself for not being man enough to come to terms with his childhood before he lost his mother, was something he was still working on.

  “You look a million miles away.” Cassandra wrapped her arm around his waist.

  Mentally shaking off the heartrending memories, Reilly pulled her close and smiled. “Nope, present and accounted for, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  She knew he wasn’t being completely honest, but he loved her for letting it go.

  “Give me a kiss.”

  “Now, that’s an order I don’t mind obeying.” Reilly leaned forward and covered her lips in a warm but chaste kiss, mindful of the guests that filled their beach house. He tasted the hunger in Cassandra’s response and tightened his grip on her.

  “Oh!” Cassandra pulled back, her fingers caressing the rows of service ribbons on his dress blues. “Your fruit salad pinched me!”

  Reilly smiled. “You’ve been spending too much time with Digger if you are talking in military slang.”

  “Well, as of thirty minutes ago, he’s now my stepfather.”

  Cassandra looked at the couple holding court near the fireplace. Surrounding them were her mother’s friends and Digger’s old Marine Corps buddies and their spouses. Margaret was stunning in an off-white dress styled like her daughter’s and Digger was decked out in his full dress blues complete with double the number of ribbons Reilly owned. “His remission is the greatest Christmas present any of us could get.”

  Reilly nodded in agreement, not trusting his voice. The last few months had found him and Cassandra moving to Nantucket, and her mother selling her home to be with Dig. Lily, fully recovered, remained in New York, handling Van Winter Treasures while Cassandra looked for the perfect place to open another shop here on the island.

  He and Cassandra had flown to D.C. to be with Dig and Margaret for his last doctor’s appointment in November. When they’d pronounced the cancer gone, he and Digger had celebrated with beers at their favorite drinking hole outside Marine Corps Base Quantico, just down the road from Dig’s home, and then gone ring shopping.

  Dig had proposed that very night and wedding plans had come next with both Dig and Margaret insisting they didn’t want to wait another moment before getting married. They’d finally agreed to a Christmas wedding here on the island and the past few weeks had been filled with a last-minute rush of activity to get ready for tonight’s event.

  Reilly lifted Cassandra’s hand to his mouth, placing a kiss inches from the Alexandrite and diamond engagement ring he had made specifically for her. He’d waited until just last night to give it to her, officially proposing while they lay in the sleigh bed upstairs, wrapped in nothing but each other. Between waiting for the ring to be hand crafted and not wanting to impede on her mother’s plans, it had taken him this long to get the ring on her finger. The surprise, love and tears in Cassandra’s eyes was a memory he would cherish forever.

  “Now what are you thinking about?” Cassandra’s lips curved into a seductive smile. “Not that I can’t guess.”

  Reilly took another sip of champagne, wished it were a beer and handed it over to his intended. “No guessing needed. I’ll come right out and tell you. As great as it was to stand up for your mom and Dig and see those two get hitched, I am ready to see you dressed in nothing but my ring.”

  Cassandra blushed as she took a sip from the delicate glass. “Well, a promise is a promise, but you’re just going to have to wait a while longer. Besides, you know my mom and Lou aren’t leaving for their honeymoon until tomorrow and Lily is our guest until the end of the week.”

  “She’s just hoping my brother will show up after all.”

  “I’ll admit she was disappointed when you said Rann couldn’t make it to the wedding because of a last-minute business trip to South America. But she is getting a strange sort of thrill from sleeping in the guest room that was once his childhood bedroom.”

  Reilly chuckled. “Wait until she opens her Christmas gift and finds out we’re sending her to my cabin in Texas next month for an extended vacation while you close the shop for inventory. Rann will only be a few miles away then.”

  “Hmmm, I have a feeling Lily is hoping to find him on horseback like in that magazine picture,” Cassandra said, waving at her best friend across the room. “I hope he’s got some free time next summer. It won’t be the same if one of your two best men isn’t here.”

  “We spoke today,” Reilly said. “Once I told him it was going to be a casual wedding on the beach and he could go without a tie and shoes if he wanted, he promised to be here.”

  Cassandra cupped his cheek with her hand. “As long as you promise to be here, that’s all that matters.”

  “I never thought I would have someone like you in my life. Now that you’re here, I don’t plan to let you go. I love you, Cassandra. Simple words I know, but they mean the world to me. Just like you do. I’ll be here. I promise.”

  Cassandra lifted up on her toes and gently swiped his mouth with hers. “Oo—rah,” she whispered, offering the Marine Corps jargon for affirmation of his pledge.

  “Oo—rah,” Reilly repeated after her. “Oo—rah.”

  About the Author

  Christyne Butler loves romance, both in real life and in the make-believe worlds of music, movies, television and most importantly to her…books. She first discovered romance novels while serving in the US Navy and it’s been a love affair ever since. With her feet firmly on dry land in the wilds of New England, she works full time, takes care of her family and stays busy by putting pen to paper (okay, fingers to keyboard) and writing her own romance novels.

  To learn more about Christyne, please visit www.christynebutler.com or stop by her group blog with other suspense authors, Shades of Suspense, at http://romanticsuspense.blogspot.com. Send an email to Christyne at christyn@christynebutler.com.

  Revenge is a dish best served bold…

  The Living Legend

  © 2007 Emma Wayne Porter

  Patrick “Trick” Mancini wants revenge.

  Not only has he learned that his boss, William Ormond, might be implicated in his mother’s death, he’s just found out Ormond has sent assassins
after him.

  After sixteen years stealing for the good guys, Trick is prepared to turn bad if that means he can keep ahead of the assassins long enough to uncover some long-buried secrets.

  Kate Crawford, Ormond’s niece, wants a normal life. Not that she knows what “normal” would feel like.

  When Trick drags her into his pursuit of the truth he threatens the last few things she still cares about. Forced to help him, she’s determined there are some secrets he won’t discover. Including the real reason she was compelled to break up with him ten years ago.

  Now Trick and Kate are racing against time to find out what’s hidden in Ormond’s black files, fighting a passion that never went away…and trying to stay alive.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Living Legend:

  “What are you doing here?” David demanded.

  Kate watched Patrick ignore the boy completely, closing in on her instead to drop a kiss on her astonished cheek.

  “Hi, Kitten.”

  She tried to return his greeting, but the sound that came out was more like a squeak.

  Typical. Patrick had always made her unspeakably nervous. Widely acknowledged as the rock star of law enforcement, he always seemed to be up to something, and always gave the impression he knew something no one else did.

  Usually, both were true, and Kate believed half the work Patrick was contracted to do was completely unnecessary. To certain people, his exorbitant fees were worth it for a chance to bend his ear or ask a favor.

  She must be the only one in their circle who actively avoided him. But then, she was the only one who needed to. For the last ten years, she’d been up to something. She knew something he didn’t, and could never tell him.

  A hot glow of fear and shame burned beneath her skin as she inspected him in short, nervous glances that never quite dared venture above the collar of his black cashmere turtleneck.

  Why was he here? Had he finally found out the truth?

  “Oh, that figures,” David grumbled. “First he busts me, then he paws my girl.”

  “You,” Patrick said, pointing at David, “Shut it. She’s not your girl.”

  “She’s not yours, either. She dumped you a long time ago.” At two indignant reactions from the adults, the boy added smugly, “Word gets around.”

  Kate rubbed her neck and inspected her shoes, certain her face must be crimson by now. It was bad enough Patrick was here. She didn’t need their history dredged up, too. And when she found out who’d been telling tales, they’d regret it.

  Patrick took her elbow and told David, “You wanna take shots at me for putting you in here, be my guest. But never disrespect your keeper, kid. Especially when I’m within striking distance.”

  As she ventured a peek at Patrick’s face, her spine straightened, and even David had to rethink whatever jab he’d been about to make.

  Patrick Mancini was no one to be messed with in the best of moods, and right now there was fire in those liquid-black eyes. Had he looked at her that way, she would have crawled under the nearest solid heavy object.

  When he began to haul her back the way he’d come, she didn’t fight him. A useless endeavor, as she well knew. He had a way of getting what he wanted, rules, boundaries and manners be damned.

  And he must want something. He wouldn’t have come here otherwise. They hadn’t been able to avoid each other entirely since the breakup, and left alone long enough, they always descended into the same old argument about why she’d broken up with him.

  It was never pleasant for either of them. She hated lying to him almost as much as he hated being lied to, so she doubted he would have come here by choice.

  What if he really had found something out about his mother?

  That eternal wrench of remorse grabbed onto her and twisted hard while she hurried to keep up with him, unsure she’d be able to withstand another argument. She was tired and caught off guard, and Patrick wasn’t dense. All it would take was one wrong word, and he’d jump on it. Then she’d have to hope and pray the bad blood between her and Uncle William wouldn’t do her in.

  Once inside the walkway leading to her house, she decided this was as good a place to start as any. Better, in fact. Walking beside him was much easier than facing him. She asked, “Why are you here?”

  “I need a favor.”

  That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. Was he holding off until they were somewhere private before the yelling began?

  They were halfway down the passage before she realized she might have over-reacted. The only other person who knew the truth had even more reason than she did to keep quiet.

  It was likely Patrick still didn’t know anything. She’d just had such a horrible few months, and was so paranoid about him learning the truth that she always expected the worst.

  “What kind of favor?” she asked.

  “I need David. And I need access to the tactical center.”

  “David? I—but—”

  “It’s an emergency, Kit. There’s a hard drive I need tapped in a secure environment, and he’s the man for the job.”

  Dragging them both to a halt in the doorway, she kept her eyes on the top button of his black wool peacoat. “No he’s not. You’ve got computer experts on your own team, you know. One on every continent.”

  “If this were information I wanted spread far and wide, that might be an option. But it’s not. So I came here where I can contain the situation.”

  “Contain? My brother’s in charge of all thirty tac centers. You think he won’t notice you messing around in there?”

  “If he does, you can cover for me. It’s the best option, Kitten. And David’s an expert.”

  “Forget it. He’s not allowed anywhere near a computer.”

  “You can make an exception.”

  “No, I can’t,” she said. “There has to be another—”

  Patrick stopped her by dipping his head and raising her chin, forcing her to make eye contact, just as her brother had done earlier.

  Having no other choice but to look at him, she shied back a bit. The man was completely overwhelming in every way. Painfully handsome with that too-long, wild black hair, the honey-gold skin and bone structure sharp enough to cut diamond.

  And then there was the intense black stare that had always been her undoing. But most overpowering of all was the staggering rush of memories. Some so good she could hardly believe they’d ever happened to her, and some so horrifying she’d give anything to undo them.

  “I’m not going away, Kit. You can give in now, or delay the inevitable a few more minutes. It doesn’t matter to me. You know how much I enjoy our little talks.”

  He’d moved in very close, staring with those smoldering eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d threatened her with her least favorite topic if he didn’t get what he wanted.

  On any other day, she might have buckled. But she was through being pushed around, and she knew what this was about. He’d done something rash again. Either that, or he was about to do something rash, and wanted her to help him do it.

  Fat chance, and she needed to get her point across, pronto. Let him know she was suspicious, and show some backbone about it. He’d always claimed his work was the art of managing risks. If she made this one too costly for him, he’d be gone in no time. She asked, “Is it business or personal?”

  “Business.”

  “Really. How much trouble are you in?”

  “I’m not in trouble. But I will be if I can’t tap this drive.”

  Sighing, she shoved his hand away and walked through the door, letting it slam in his face.

  He, of course, came in after her. “I’m doing this, Kit. It has to be done.”

  “Has it escaped your attention that if you get yourself in trouble, you’ll—”

  “I know,” he interrupted. “If I break the rules, they’ll ship me back to jail where they found me. But those same people pay me obnoxious sums to break rules each and every day.”

 
“Mixed messages aren’t an excuse,” she argued, turning on him.

  This time it was Patrick who shied back. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course I’m not all right. You come barging in here asking me to lie to my brother and get David in—”

  “Asking? Whatever gave you the idea I was asking? I’m giving you an order.”

  “You can order me all you want, but you can’t touch David. He can’t go near a computer without violating a court order.”

  “Um, Kit? Remember that whole thing where the Sanction isn’t bound by law?”

  Giving him a withering look, she said, “Our privileges don’t extend to these kids.”

  “That won’t matter if no one finds out. I won’t tell anyone, and you know David won’t. He’d probably sell his soul for some key time right about now.”

  “What about me?” she asked. “Why would I cover for you?”

  “Because you broke my heart and scarred me for life.”

  “Well. I see you still think the entire world revolves around your big fat head.”

  “How annoyed you must be that it does.”

  Mac will do anything to keep the city from going up in flames, but will Caitlyn become the first victim in the DEVIL’S PLAYGROUND?

  Devil's Playground

  © 2007 Arianna Hart

  E.R. nurse Caitlyn O’Toole has seen just about everything in her time, but she’s never had a bleeding patient under her car before. When the gunshot victim turns out to be her brother’s partner, can she keep him alive long enough to stop the city from going up in flames?

  Devlin “Mac” McDougal has been working undercover trying to bust an illegal weapons ring for months. He was inches away from success when all hell broke loose. Can he trust Caitlyn to save his life when he no longer trusts her brother?

  As the city gets closer and closer to conflagration, Caitlyn and Mac throw off plenty of sparks of their own. Even though the heat between them is intense, can Mac believe his heart over his finely honed investigative skills? And can Caitlyn find a way to protect her family without losing Mac in the process?