Devil's Playground

by Arianna Hart

  “There’ll be a lot of shake-ups for the next few months.” Mac stopped talking and held her hand gently.

  They looked at each other in silence for an awkward minute before Caitlyn couldn’t take it any more.

  “So, Tom tells me your picture is all over the newspapers. Have you gotten calls to make the rounds on the night shows?”

  Mac smiled wryly. “No, that isn’t exactly encouraged in my line of work.”

  The hope that had flared when he walked into the room began to dim. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to be an undercover agent if you’re on Letterman.”

  “No kidding.” He took a deep breath and gripped her fingers more tightly. “Look, there’s a lot I want to talk to you about, and I’m sure this isn’t the right time for it. You’ve just woken up and you’re probably in a lot of pain, but if I don’t say it now I might not get the chance.”

  Caitlyn felt fear congeal in the pit of her stomach. Here it comes, the brush off. She’d run out of time to change his mind. A lump formed in her throat and she fought back tears. She would not cry. If nothing else, at least she’d have her pride. Cold comfort, but better than looking like an ass. Steeling herself, she pasted a smile on her face. “Go ahead.”

  Mac looked at her, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. “This is harder than I thought. I never wanted to hurt you, and here I almost got you killed.”

  Drawing it out was hurting worse than any bullet wound could. “Just say it Mac, I’m tough, I can take it.”

  “You’re not tough. You’re sweet and kind and have a heart that wants to save everyone, including a beat up agent like me.”

  “I’m sure my name has already been placed on the list for canonization,” she snorted. He made her sound like Little Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but you deserve someone a lot better than me.”

  Every word sent another dart of pain into her. Oh God, she knew it was going to hurt, but not like this. Where was the nurse with her pain meds? Maybe a nice shot of morphine would stop the ache in her heart too.

  “But I can’t give you up.”

  “What?” Her gaze caught his. What was he saying?

  “I know I’m going to sound like the biggest hypocrite that walked the face of the planet. I mean, I kept telling you how wrong I was for you and how I wasn’t a ‘happily ever after’ guy—”

  “But?” She was afraid to misunderstand his words and have her hopes dashed all over again.

  “But, I—I love you. I don’t want you to be with someone who deserves you. I want you to be with me.”

  His face was open and more vulnerable than she’d ever seen it. His love and fear were laid out for her to see.

  “You had to tell me this when I can’t even lift both arms to hug you, didn’t you?” Tears fell from her eyes as the emotions she’d been fighting back filled her.

  “I told you my timing sucked.” He smiled at her and brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Are you going to put my out of my misery here? I’ve been sweating this speech for hours.”

  Butterflies danced in her belly and her heart flipped over slowly. “I love you, too. I have since that first night together, but I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

  “I might have. I never thought I was cut out for a family life. I figured I’d work undercover until I either retired or got killed. I’m good at what I do.”

  “I know. But now your cover’s blown.”

  “To hell and back. I’ll never work undercover again.”

  “And?”

  “And, although I might miss the adrenaline rush now and then, or even the challenge, I won’t miss hiding in dumpsters or sleeping with one eye open for months at a time. And I definitely won’t miss losing myself in my cover.”

  “I kind of like the person you are right now,” Caitlyn said. She knew she was smiling like a loon, but couldn’t seem to stop.

  “I’d take a few less aches and pains, but I’m pretty comfortable in my skin now too.” His smile was just as goofy so she didn’t feel so badly anymore.

  “What happens next?”

  “There’ll be months and months of dispositions and testimony. Legal maneuvering and deals on both sides—”

  “I mean with us, doofus. With you.”

  “I’ve been offered a job as Director of the Northeast Region of the FBI. I wanted to have our talk before I agreed to anything though.”

  “Is that something you’d like to do? Working behind a desk is going to be a lot different for you.”

  “It sure will. I’ll be doing a lot more behind the scenes and directing of covert operations. That appeals to me. I’ll also be involved in directing a program to control the gang population in cities, and that really means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’d know about the problems first hand after this assignment.” He still wasn’t telling her what she wanted to know. He’d said he loved her, but what next?

  “That I do.” He stopped talking again and just looked at her.

  Was she going to have to drag it out of him? “Ah, where does that leave us? I don’t want to misunderstand things, so why don’t you spell it out for me?”

  “Quite the romantic, aren’t you?” he teased.

  “Mac!”

  He leaned down and kissed her nose, then drifted lower to kiss her lips lightly. “I want to be with you forever, to eventually have a family and a house and a yard for all the strays you bring home,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Oh.” She kissed him back, pouring all the joy and love that filled her into the kiss. “But I think from now on I’ll stick to stray dogs.”

  “For the love of little green apples! How many times am I going to walk in on the two of you in bed?” Tom groused from the doorway.

  “If you learn how to knock instead of barging in, you could avoid it in the future,” Mac shot over his shoulder, kissing Caitlyn again just for good measure.

  “But where’s the fun in that?”

  Epilogue

  Aurora Patel contemplated moving the two feet to the left that it would take to reach the coffee pot, but couldn’t work up the energy. Twelve straight hours on her feet with one small break for food before she was called back into surgery made the very thought of moving again repugnant. Her hands were red and raw from the harsh antiseptic she used to scrub the germs off, and her back screamed in pain.

  And she’d get to do it all again tomorrow. Yippee. Ah, the glamorous life of a surgeon, what more could she ask for? A back massage would be nice. And maybe a week in the tropics.

  Was the coffee worth the effort of moving? Aurora looked at the pot. It had maybe an inch of dark black sludge sitting in the bottom. Nope, definitely not worth moving for. But if she got up now, maybe she could use the momentum to carry herself out the door and to her car. It was a short ride to her apartment, and then she could take off her shoes and lay down for eight blessed hours.

  Okay, on the count of three she’d move. “One—two—” the phone on her hip rang before she could get to three.

  Crud.

  She had to answer it. She was still in the hospital and therefore still available if there was an emergency. Please don’t let there be an emergency.

  “Patel, here,” she answered with as neutral a tone as she could muster. Pleasant wasn’t happening.

  “I know where you are.” The sinister voice rasped through the phone, sending chills down her back.

  “Who is this?” Aurora sat up straight.

  “I know where you are, and I’m watching you, doctor.” The last was said as more of an insult than a nod at her title.

  “What do you want?”

  The caller disconnected before she got an answer.

  Aurora’s hands shook, and she was afraid the trembling would travel through the rest of her body in seconds if she didn’t do something. Almost without thinking, her fingers dialed a familiar number.

  A number she’d sworn never to call agai
n.

  “O’Toole.”

  “Liam, it’s me. It’s starting again.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Arianna Hart, please visit www.ariannahart.com. Send an email to Ari at ari@ariannahart.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Arianna! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/friendsofari

  When Jared Romero gets shot the only person he can turn to is Macayla Sullivan, but will she risk her heart—and her life—to help him?

  Take Your Medicine

  © 2007 Arianna Hart

  After escaping from an abusive relationship, Macayla has no interest in tying herself to another man, even if he is drop-dead gorgeous. Unfortunately, Jared doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no and breaks down her defenses as fast as she can put them up.

  When Macayla saves Jared’s life, little does she know that she’s putting her life—and her heart—in danger.

  This book has been previously published.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Take Your Medicine:

  After waving to the security guard, she rounded the corner and clicked the lock for the door, lighting the interior of the car. Automatically, she looked in the backseat for intruders. She did so out of habit, but almost jumped out of her skin when she actually saw a body in the backseat. She was digging through her purse to dial 911 when the back door opened and a man stumbled out.

  “Stay back! I’ve already dialed 911 and if I scream, hospital security will be over here in a heartbeat!” Macayla backed up and prepared to defend herself. Mentally she kicked herself for telling the security guard to stay at his station. She was only going across the street, she was a black belt in karate, what did she have to fear? What an idiot.

  “Macayla! Calm down.”

  “How do you know who I am? Did you read the registration? Why are you still here, run away before the cops get here!” Macayla was still digging in her bag for the phone. What was the point of making them so small if they got lost in your purse?

  “Macayla, it’s me, Jared. Jared Romero, Connor’s friend. Remember?”

  Macayla took a better look at the tall stranger leaning against her car. “Move into the light,” Macayla ordered him. Her hands shook, and her heart pounded. If it was indeed Jared, she had a lot more to worry about than if it was a stranger.

  The first time she met him he had broken into her apartment and she held a gun on him, while wearing nothing but a towel. She had threatened to shoot him between the legs before she found out he was just bringing a phone so she could have contact with Samara while she and Connor were on the run.

  Samara was Macayla’s best friend in the world, and Connor was her husband, who just happened to be Jared’s best friend. Jared hadn’t taken kindly to having a gun pointed at him and paid her back by kissing the life out of her. She had seen him on two other occasions, and in both experiences she had ended up the loser.

  As he moved into the pool of light cast by the street lamp, Macayla noticed the broad shoulders, the height, the sheer power of him. She didn’t even need to look at his face to confirm his identity, but she looked up at him anyway. He was close to a foot taller than her five foot three inches, but she refused to be cowed by his size. She boldly stared at his chiseled features.

  Oh yeah, she remembered the dark black hair, brutally cut in the military fashion. It did nothing to detract from his looks. His eyes were hazel, with more green than blue, and bloodshot now. His nose had been broken at least once, but it only added character to his stunning face. He had high, sharp cheekbones and a strong, stubborn chin. If it weren’t for the nose, he could pose in any magazine across the country.

  “Satisfied?” Jared asked with a snap in his voice. He lurched over to the truck and practically fell over.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Macayla ran over to make sure he didn’t land on his face. He was pale as chalk and she could feel the heat coming off his skin. When she wrapped her arm around his waist, he hissed in pain.

  “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

  “Gunshot, in my side, not serious, but I’m losing blood. That’s why I came here, to you.”

  “Well, I didn’t think you were having a baby, but I didn’t expect a gunshot. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Get it out, stitch me up, and let me go on my way, without any awkward questions.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “I just knew you’d ask questions. Do you think I could lie down while you grill me? I’m not feeling too good,” Jared said as dehydration and blood loss got the best of him and he passed out in the car.

  “I just knew you’d find a way to avoid answering my questions,” Macayla mumbled as she pushed his heavy legs in the back of the truck. “Don’t you dare bleed all over my seats. This is the first new vehicle I’ve had in almost ten years, you better not ruin my interior.”

  Running into the office, she grabbed as many things as she could think of. She had a decent medical kit at home, but she didn’t have everything she’d need for minor surgery. As it was, she only had access to a local anesthetic and taking care of that bullet was still going to hurt like hell.

  Macayla drove the short trip to her condo with her mind in overdrive. Where had he gotten shot? Why did he come to her? How was she going to lug his big body into her condo without anyone seeing her? It was after midnight, she should be able to pull around to the front door and get him out, then park the truck in her garage.

  Her garage led into the basement of the condo, but Macayla didn’t want to drag him up a flight of stairs if she could avoid it. She didn’t know if she even could. He was really big, and dead weight was always hard to lift. She tried to put the word “dead” out of her mind.

  “Come on, Romero, wake up. I don’t know how I’m going to get you into the house by myself.” Macayla gently slapped his face, and when he didn’t wake up she slapped him a little harder.

  “All right. I’m coming.” Jared had the glassy-eyed look of someone with a fever, and he could barely stand, even with her help. Macayla had already unlocked the front door and had it propped so she wouldn’t have to fight with her keys and Jared at the same time. She managed to help him through the door before he passed out again.

  “Damn it, Romero, couldn’t you have at least made it to the living room? Now I’m going to have to drag you across the floor and you’ll probably get blood stains on my carpet.” Macayla tried to bite back her anxiety. She had no idea how long ago he’d been shot, and she had no way of giving him more blood. She could give him IV fluids, but that was it. If he lost too much blood, she would either have to take him to a hospital, or watch him die.

  He found her handcuffed to his bed. Can they unchain her memories in time to save her life?

  Lost But Not Forgotten

  © 2007 Mackenzie McKade

  When pharmaceutical researcher Alexis Knight returns home from the Amazon jungle in a quest to reclaim the year of her life lost to amnesia, she discovers a host of changes have taken place in her absence. Not only has the shy, geeky boy she knew years ago transformed into a virile, confident hunk, he’s bought her family home and is in the process of turning her late mother’s bedroom into a den of iniquity.

  When Jake O’Malley finds spitfire Allie handcuffed to his bed, accused of breaking and entering, his first thought is that his dreams have been served up to him on a platter. Then he realizes she’s not acting when she says she doesn’t remember the past year, nor her own mother’s death.

  As Jake eases Allie past her grief, her journey to reclaim her memories entwines with an exploration into the world of BDSM. Just as their psychological duel to dominate heats up, they make another, more chilling discovery.

  There’s a reason Allie lost her memory—someone wants her dead.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Lost But Not Forgotten:

  Crap. Allie hightailed it toward her bedroom, shutting the door just before Jake burst from the bathro
om.

  The pounding on her bedroom door startled her, but she didn’t move.

  “You little witch. Open this door.” Jake didn’t sound too happy.

  “Serves you right,” she shouted at the closed door. The pipes in the house had always been a little finicky. She had learned that much as a child. Too many times, she had begun to bathe just as her mother started the dishes. The result was hot or cold water—never anything in between.

  Truth was she could use a cold shower about now. It had taken all her strength not to accept what Jake offered, a night in his arms. Even now, her body burned with need.

  Allie’s heart raced as she leaned against the locked door. >From the other side, Jake shook it so that she felt the tremor clear to her bones.

  “Allie, let me in,” he growled.

  “Beat all you want. You’re not getting in here.” Vibrations from his pounding continued to shake the door. Abruptly, they stopped. Allie harrumphed. “Giving up so soon?” A chuckle of satisfaction rose and died as quickly.

  She shouldn’t have taken her temper out on Jake. Everything that had happened recently was overwhelming. She was in trouble—big trouble.

  Jake had been good to her mother—good to her. He didn’t have to let her stay here. Truth was this wasn’t her house. But that hadn’t stopped her from making an appointment to meet with her mother’s lawyer tomorrow.

  The click of the lock sent her into action. “Oh, shit!” Allie flung herself against the door, but it was too late. Jake rushed through still only wearing the towel low around his hips. The inertia sent her backward and she fell on her ass. Pain radiated up her spine.

  “Sonofabitch!” That hurts.

  Before she could rise on her own, Jake yanked her to her feet, firmly against his solid chest. The lines on his face were hardened, but his eyes were not.

  Damn man was enjoying himself. Her anger flared anew, racing like a wildfire across her cheeks.