Red Sole Clues

by Liliana Hart

  Slowly, I shake my head while keeping my eyes trained on the detonator. “I don’t think so.”

  “Clearly, thinking’s not your strong suit,” he says.

  “Bugger off, you elitist snob.” Quickly taking aim, I shoot him in the middle of the forehead, the bullet opening the back of his head as it exits. Nasty buggers, these bullets.

  But they do the job.

  His body stands in suspended animation for far longer than I like, so I shoot him again in the chest. Finally he goes down, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

  I move to Ackerman and stand over him.

  He stares up at me with sightless eyes. Blood trickles from the side of his mouth. Most of his brain is spattered on the wall behind his body, a grotesque Rorschach blot in which all I see is victory.

  I kick at his arm, but he doesn’t move. “That’s right, you bastard, you better stay dead.” Unfortunately, bad guys keep turning up like a bad penny, as the Americans like to say. I raise my gun to shoot him again.

  “Max!” Philippa screams, stopping me. “It’s not stopped.”

  My eyes widen in horror. Only two minutes to go.

  “Oh fuck.”

  Dropping my gun, I rush to her, grabbing her hands to keep her from clawing at the vest. Kneeling on the hard ground before her so she focuses on me, I say, “Stop. It will go off, remember?”

  Her fingers freeze and I kiss each one before moving them out of my way. “I’m sorry, Max,” she whimpers. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Looking up at her, I wink. “You’re forgiven.”

  Her smile is watery.

  “Now,” I begin confidently, “all I have to do is take a single wire out and we’re done here. I’ll have you home in time for tea.”

  “I hate tea,” she whispers.

  “Forever our secret.” Fixing my eyes on the detonator, I set to taking it apart.

  “What can I do to help?” she asks.

  My brave Pippa, always the lady for the job. I glance up at her. “Tell me your memory of the day we met.”

  A laugh escapes her. “Are you serious?”

  I force a grin. “Quite.”

  She licks her lips. “It was spring. I was leaving class and you bumped into me.”

  I turn my attention back to the task at hand, my fingers shaking as I pry open the outer case. “Not how I remember it.”

  “Concentrate, Maxim,” she orders. “As I was saying, we bumped into one another, and all my things scattered.”

  “Naturally, I helped you pick them up.”

  “Naturally,” she agrees. “At one time, I thought you the most perfect gentleman.”

  I grin, even as my heart pounds and my chest tightens. “Which is why you didn’t give me a second look once I rescued your precious papers.”

  “The motorcycle did help,” she murmurs.

  “The leather jacket and sneer as well?”

  “Your confidence is what attracted me the most.”

  “And the fact that your parents couldn’t stand me.” Three wires are all that stand in my way: blue, green, or red. “Your dear mother was horrified you’d thrown over a proper gent like Prince Deo.”

  Pippa’s legs begin to tremble, then her teeth start to chatter. “I didn’t want to marry him. He wasn’t my choice.”

  “Almost done, love. Down to three wires.” I peer at her from beneath my brows. “Brave woman, it’s almost over.”

  The timer hits the fifty second mark.

  A sharp gasp leaves her.

  My heart slams against my chest.

  “Stop looking at the timer, Pippa. Tell me the exact moment you fell in love with me.”

  “I’d rather face the timer,” she says dryly before clearing her throat.

  “Fine, then I’ll tell you my exact moment. It was at Cotton House.”

  “In the Maldives?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we weren’t together, then. I’d sent you away.”

  “Like that was going to stop me. I knew you only did so to be the dutiful daughter.” I snap the green wire in half and nothing happens. “In any case, you were wearing your mother’s sari. It was dyed the color of the ocean and threaded with gold. Your beautiful hands were covered in henna and gold bangles adorned your wrists.” I glance up at her. “We made good use of those later that night.”

  She blushes. “You fell in love with me on the night of my wedding to another man?”

  “Wasn’t I there to stop said wedding?” I ask, then continue taking apart the blasted detonator. Sweat gathers at the small of my back. “I took one look at you and saw my future.”

  “Those are very lovely words.”

  “Very true words.”

  “I’m trying to be brave, Maxim. Trying very hard, but time is running out.”

  “I know, my love, but we’re on our own again.”

  “Please.”

  “Blue or red,” I mutter, my fingers wrapped around the red wire.

  Ten.

  Nine.

  “Just pull a bloody wire,” Philippa screams. Tears stream down her cheeks as our eyes meet. This could be the last time I ever see her in this life. “Do it, Maxim. I trust you.”

  Five.

  Four.

  Blue, like the color of her sari… Blue is our future. “Blue.” Letting go of the red wire, I rip out the blue one and pull her into my embrace. If she goes, we both go.

  The countdown stops at two seconds.

  I open one eye and look around. We’re still in one piece.

  “Hell, yes!” I shout at the rafters of the church.

  A couple of birds take flight, squawking their displeasure.

  “Oh, thank God.” Philippa’s knees buckle and she starts to fall. I go down with her, easing her landing before working at the vest secured around her.

  “It’s okay, my love. It’s over.”

  “I knew you would save me, Maxim.” She cups my cheek. “I never lost faith in you.”

  Easing the vest off her shoulders, I place it carefully beside her. Once it’s off, she launches herself into my arms. “Please take me home with you,” Philippa pleads, sagging against me.

  Hope surges inside of me. “There’s nothing I want more, but you need to be examined.”

  “I’m fine,” she insists. “Please, Maxim. I can’t take another minute of this place. Call whomever you need to clean up, but for the love of God, take me home.”

  I brush a kiss over her trembling lips. “Right this minute,” I agree and take her hand in mine.

  Together, we walk out of the church and into a perfectly rainy London afternoon.

  Chapter Five

  Dmitry is nowhere to be found and as I hear the sound of sirens, I can only assume that he’s the one to notify the authorities. Or Ben.

  Either way, I owe them both so much that I don’t know how I will ever repay them.

  “Shall we walk?” I ask lightly, as if we haven’t just survived near death.

  “I think so, yes,” Philippa replies.

  By the time we arrive at my flat, we are soaked to the bone.

  Philippa turns to me, her heavy hair falling over her shoulders. “I need you.”

  “You don’t have to ask.” I frame her lovely face with my hands, intent on kissing her slowly, intent on savoring every minute I have with her.

  But she doesn’t allow any of that.

  Instead, her mouth slams against mine, our teeth nearly colliding. Her hands are in my hair, gripping the strands tight as we kiss like old lovers.

  She rips at my clothes, and I do the same to hers. Buttons pop, scatter, and make the most beautiful sound as they fly around the room.

  As I wrap my mouth around a tight nipple, a moan leaves her mouth. Make that the second most beautiful sound.

  “You taste so bloody good,” I growl around her nipple.

  Pippa smiles, then pushes me away. “On the sofa, darling. I want to ride.”

  I barely get my pants past my knees befor
e she’s on top of me, her body sleek, hot, and wet between her thighs. I rub her clit, revel in the wetness of her as she bites at my ear.

  I don’t remember her ever being this way, but I certainly don’t mind. Plus, I know how a near-death experience can change a person’s entire outlook on life.

  She raises her hips, grasps my cock, and lowers herself onto me.

  I blow out a curse, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

  “I haven’t…there’s been no one but you,” I confess.

  Her eyes widen before her head falls back, sending her breasts jutting out. “Just me.”

  I sit up slightly to cup her breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her taut, dusky nipples. “Yes.”

  “There’s been no one for me either.”

  My cock hardens even more. “Are you on the pill?” When we first married, she always took it because we weren’t ready for kids. But now, the thought of her carrying my child incites something primal inside of me. “I want to come in you, shall I?”

  “Yes.”

  Which questions she’s answering, I haven’t a clue, because her hips are moving. Her pussy is sucking me in and her muscles are clamping down on my cock so hard that I only have seconds before I orgasm.

  I rub her clit and she moans my name. “Maxim. Yes, there.”

  Gritting my teeth, I keep up with her, forcing my orgasm to wait. I want us to come together. Need us to be one so badly that I can taste it.

  Her thighs quiver and I know she’s close. I rub her clit harder, making it plump up. She’s scratching my chest with her nails, nearly drawing blood, but I’m past giving a damn.

  Philippa screams and I let out a hoarse shout as I join her, endless hot spurts of my semen pouring inside of her. I thrust deep, holding onto her hip with my free hand.

  We stay locked like that for endless minutes. Hours. Centuries.

  Finally, she comes back to me, her face softening as she slumps against my chest.

  “I love you,” she murmurs.

  I stare at her in wonder. The last time she said those words to me, I was too damned angry and proud to care.

  My voice is hoarse as I reply, “I love you, Pippa.”

  She smiles, and in her smile, I can see forever again.

  * * *

  When I wake up the next morning, Philippa is sitting on the side of the bed. She’s wearing a ridiculously conservative dress with hot pink Louboutins. Apparently, she’d not taken all of her things from our flat.

  “Good morning, my love.”

  She frowns and my heart thumps hard against my chest. “I wanted to leave before you woke, but I decided not to be that girl again.”

  I attempt to capture her hand in mine, but she evades me by standing.

  “Philippa. Come back to bed.” I shove the bedcovers off and nearly chase her across the room before stopping. “What’s wrong?”

  “This.” She waves a hand around. “It took a madman to bring us back together.”

  “And that’s a problem for you?”

  She nods vigorously, her black hair sliding forward. “Absolutely.”

  “Care to explain why?”

  “Once you put on trousers.” Grabbing the pair I’d thrown across the room last night, she holds them out to me, her head slightly turned.

  I step into them, but forgo buttoning them up. I don’t have plans to stay in them very long, mostly because I’m sure we can work through whatever reservations she may have. “Ready.”

  “We can’t shag away five years of separation.”

  It dawns on me. She thinks I’ve been disloyal, or that I’ve tricked her. “On my parents’ grave, I swear that I have been faithful to you.”

  She lets out a shuddering breath. “And I have with you.”

  I tilt my head to one side. “Except for that time three years ago.”

  “I can’t believe you’d bring him up.”

  I run a hand through my hair as irritation rises. “He had his tongue down your throat.”

  Her golden eyes narrow. “If you’d waited longer than five seconds, you would have seen me shove him away.”

  That would have been something, considering Philippa is every inch the lady and would never lower herself to shove. Chastise? Order? Most certainly. But publically rough up another human? Never. “Having your bodyguard do your dirty work does not count, Pippa.”

  “See? This is why we will never work.” She marches across the room like a queen. “You will never admit you were wrong. Never admit that you chose SIS over me. Over us.”

  I follow her into the living room. “Why should I? You do all the talking for both of us, or should I say, your dear poppa does all the talking. I’ve never bowed and scraped so much in my life as when we started dating…and then after we were married…”

  She glares at me, her jaw working. “I never asked you to bow and scrape.”

  “You sure as hell never stopped me either.” I mime bowing to her father. “Yes, Sir Coxenberg. Shall I kiss your arse next?”

  Philippa grabs a pillow and throws it at me, hitting me dead center in the chest. “Stop it.”

  “Or what?”

  All the fight goes out of her. “Or nothing,” she says softly. “We merely go back to the way things were before. Living our lives separately.”

  “I don’t want a divorce,” I say flatly. “I risked my life to save you because I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  “Our differences are too great.” She smiles at me sadly, touching my rough jaw with the tips of her fingers. “My father wanted a son and he got me, so he tried to groom you to follow in his footsteps. I’m sorry that I didn’t stand up to him.”

  I grab her hand and kiss it, holding it to my mouth as I speak. “I’m sorry, too. For being so damned stubborn. Please don’t go. Give us another chance, Pippa.”

  I can see her resistance fading, but it’s too soon to celebrate a victory. Besides, I’m not at war with my wife.

  “I need time, Maxim. Time to go back to the place where we first fell in love.”

  “We’ll go together. I’ll pack my bags. The Maldives are perfect this time of year.” Letting go of her, I dash to my bedroom, but when I return, Philippa’s gone.

  Yanking the door open, I run down five flights of stairs and burst onto the street like a madman. I’m just in time to watch her get into one of her father’s cars.

  Rain begins to fall, but I don’t go back inside until I can no longer see the tail lights of the car that’s taking her away from me.

  Again.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later, I’m standing before the board again, but this time everyone is smiling.

  “We are reinstating you, Agent Romanov,” Madam Beake says.

  “You’re bloody mental.”

  She ignores my insult. “While your actions were highly irregular, there is no denying that you saved this city from another terrorist attack. And you did it on your own. We are in your debt.”

  “Actually, I phoned a friend—specifically my cousin, Benjamin Romanov. He used London’s security system to find my wife. Then there’s the matter of my cousin, Dmitry Romanov. I’m sure you’ve seen the video footage—ah, well, perhaps not.” More likely than not, Benjamin scrubbed all traces of the transporter’s visage.

  Her lips thin. “Are you purposefully trying to cock this up?”

  “Not at all.” I shake my head slowly. “In fact, why don’t I make it easier on all of us? I quit.”

  With that, I pivot and shove through the double doors, but this time my head is held high.

  “Time to go get my wife.”

  * * *

  Three days later

  Cotton House, Maldives, Indian Ocean

  “Took you long enough,” she says, her wide-brimmed hat shielding her face from the sun…and me.

  “You said you needed time.”

  “I didn’t need that long.”

  I fight back a smile. “Had to turn down a job.”

&n
bsp; Her head jerks up, her mouth a perfect O. “You didn’t.”

  “Afraid I did. I am a bloke without a future at SIS who is madly in love with his wife.”

  She scrambles to her feet, her bright yellow bikini a glorious contrast to her tanned skin. “Did you do that for me?”

  “For us.” I take her hand in mine, slipping on the ring that she’d left at my flat so long ago. “Let’s renew our vows, Philippa. Let’s start anew.”

  “Yes,” she cries, peppering my face with kisses. “Absolutely.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Marquita Valentine is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense.

  Since first taking the plunge in July of 2012 to self-publish, Marquita has appeared on the Top 100 Bestselling Ebooks Lists on iBooks, Amazon Kindle, and Barnes&Noble. She’s been called “one of the best new voices in romance” (Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews) and her books have been accused of being “a sexy, fun, and slightly addicting contemporary read” (The Book Queen).

  When she’s not writing sexy heroes who adore their sassy heroines, she enjoys shopping, reading, and spending time with her family and friends. Married to her high school sweetheart, Marquita lives in a seriously small town in the south with her husband, two kids, and a dog.

  www.marquitavalentine.com

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