Secret Rendezvous

by Sharon C. Cooper

Her hands slammed to her hips. “Those assholes are dead, thanks to you. What difference does it make?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he roared. “Do you know how many people are tied to Los Hermanos? Just because a few are dead, doesn’t mean the others won’t come after you!”

  “And what about you? They apparently know who you are too.”

  “They don’t know me. I’m just the one who keeps wreaking havoc on their damn operation, but sweetheart…they know your name and who you work for.”

  Alandra couldn’t say anything. He was right. Unsure to what extent her cover was blown, it looked as if the agency would have to reassign her. Harry had told her that once she got back to Virginia, they’d figure it all out, and determine who’d leaked the information.

  “God, I hate your job.” Quinn moved away from her, running his hand over his head and down the back of his neck. “It kills me every time they send you somewhere. Half the time I don’t know where you are or if you’re safe.”

  She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Honey, how do you think I feel when they call you in the middle of the night, telling you they need you to go to some hellish country? What you do is a heck of lot more dangerous than what I do. The situation yesterday was not the norm for me, but it looked to be the norm for you.”

  He took several deep breaths before he turned in her arms, and pulled her close. Holding her tight, he kissed the top of her head and seconds ticked by before he spoke.

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that and I’m even sorrier you had to see what you saw. Why don’t we table this conversation for another time? Right now, we need to leave and I want as much time with you as I can get before I let you head back to Virginia. Okay?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “I was thinking about us stopping in Vegas for a couple of days.”

  She leaned back and looked up at him, her arms around his waist. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’m going wherever you go. So if it’s Vegas you want, Vegas it is.”

  ****

  Washington, D.C

  He swiveled in his leather office chair and stared at the rose garden outside his window. He’d just received word that his brother had been killed yesterday, gunned down by an American assassin, the same operative who had killed their father. This news couldn’t have come at a worse time. Congress was in session and he’d be tied up for weeks, working from eight in the morning until nine at night. It would be months before he could look into this situation and determine the level of damage to their organization. To blow up one of the warehouses, and cost him millions of dollars, meant someone would have to pay.

  He turned back to his desk and pulled the framed photo out of the bottom drawer. He and his half-brother, Orlando Medina weren’t close, but they were family. Your brother is dead. The words played around in his head over and over again as he stared at the photo in his hand. Not only had he lost his brother today, but everything that they’d built had been ruined.

  Someone must pay.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Amazon bestselling author, Sharon C. Cooper, lives in Atlanta with her husband and enjoys reading, writing, and rainy days. She writes sweet and contemporary romance, as well as romantic suspense and is currently working on book two of the Reunited Series, Rendezvous with Danger (release date – January 2013). Sharon is a Pro member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), a member of Georgia Romance Writers (GRW), and a member of the Page a Day Writers Group. To read more about Sharon, visit www.sharoncooper.net

  Other Titles by Sharon C. Cooper:

  Something New (A Sweet Romance - April 2012)

  Best Woman for the Job (Short Story - Contemporary Romance - April 2012)

  Blue Roses (Romantic Suspense - July 2012)

  Secret Rendezvous (Prequel to Rendezvous with Danger - October 2012)

  Rendezvous with Danger (Romantic Suspense – January 2013)

  Connect with Sharon Online:

  Website: http://sharoncooper.net

  Email: sharon@sharoncooper.net

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSharonCCooper21?ref=hl

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/Sharon_Cooper1

  Subscribe to her blog: http://sharonccooper.wordpress.com/

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5823574.Sharon_C_Cooper

  Sneak Peek at:

  Rendezvous with Danger

  (This is an unedited excerpt from Rendezvous with Danger, book two of the Reunited Series)

  Coming January 2013

  Chapter One

  “You better hope we’re not rattling any cages while we dig for answers. Whoever sealed Alandra Pargas’s records, meant for them to stay sealed.”

  Quinn Hamilton looked over his friend’s shoulder. If anyone could find answers, it was former Navy SEAL and computer genius, Cameron Miller, better known as Wiz. He could get through any firewall and pilfer information, including top-secret info meant to stay a secret. Closer than most brothers, Quinn learned of Wiz’s computer skills after they’d endured SEAL’s training together, and while they participated in numerous black ops.

  He squinted at the monitor as Wiz’s fingers flew across the computer keys. Wiz typed in code after code in an effort to hack into the CIA mainframe. Closed up in Quinn’s home office for an hour, they’d hoped to find evidence to support Quinn’s hunch – that Alandra might be alive.

  “Man, I appreciate you doing this.”

  “Enough to come see me behind bars when they haul my ass off to prison?”

  Quinn grunted and folded his arms across his chest. “They’ll never catch you.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Wiz stopped typing and glance over his shoulder. “I’m surprised you didn’t look into this sooner. Why now, considering you thought you spotted her months ago?”

  Quinn blew out a frustrated sigh and backed away from the desk. He moved to the large bank of windows that overlooked his back yard, ten acres of partially wooded land with a wide creek running along the north side of the house. He leaned against the windowsill and admired the moonlight bouncing off the water.

  “I’m not totally sure,” he finally said. “When they rushed my business partner, Tyler, to the emergency room after he was shot, and I saw that nurse who looked like Alandra, I thought I had seen a ghost. She looked so much like her. There were subtle differences. This woman wore a lot of makeup and had long straight hair, where Alandra never wore makeup and had a mass of brown curls. The nurse’s eyes were green and Alandra’s were light brown, almost hazel.”

  “Did this lady act as if she recognized you?”

  “At first she looked startled, and we stared at each other for a moment. Then she ran off to attend to Tyler.” Quinn turned to his friend. “Wiz, man, Alandra and I had a magnetic connection, one I have never felt with any other woman. And that night, I felt it. My gut tells me it was her.”

  “Well, your gut has never steered us wrong, but I hope you’re prepared for whatever we find.”

  “Me too.” Quinn retraced his path from the window to the desk. His size thirteen’s sunk into the plush carpet with each heavy step. What he’d give to hold the only woman he’d ever love in his arms again and talk well into the night about everything, from sports to politics. Or make love to her, until she screamed his name over and over again. He shook his head. It had been three long years. If she were still alive, she would have found some way to contact him. Wouldn't she?

  He plopped down in one of the chairs that faced his large mahogany desk, and leaned forward. “When you finish this, Wiz, I need you to do something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want an extensive background check on Velvet LeBlanc, everything from who her momma is to whether or not she has any parking tickets. Everything.”

  Wiz stopped typing and looked up. “Who the hell is she? Sounds like a stripper’s name.”

  Quinn reclined in his seat. He ran a han
d over his head and down his dreadlocks, frustrated by their lack of progress. “I thought the same thing, but when I returned to the hospital, I found out the nurse’s name is Velvet LeBlanc. I know from experience that Alandra is a master at disguises and lying.”

  “I’m sure she had to be to survive as a counterintelligence agent for the CIA.” Wiz rolled the office chair away from the desk and reared back in it. “I still can’t believe you had an affair with this woman, one woman, and I never met her.”

  Quinn had good reason to keep this relationship private. Considering the terrorists, drug lords, and common criminals he’d encountered during his operative days, anyone of them could have used her to get to him. It was safer for Alandra if no one connected them.

  “You might not have known her directly, but you helped me out a time or two in regards to her: A phone number here, a trace there, and I can go on.”

  Wiz shook his head and chuckled. “From now on, I’m asking more questions when you call me for a favor.”

  “In the meantime keep digging into Alandra’s death, just in case.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck. “I should’ve done this right after she was killed.”

  Wiz’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? Have you forgotten? You were shot in the back, and left for dead during that mission. I’m just glad we found the bastards who ambushed you.”

  Quinn would never forget that day. In all his years in the military and working as a special operative for the government, he had never incurred injuries so emotionally and physically damaging. It had taken months of rehab to get back to a somewhat normal life, and had it not been for Malik Lewis, another former Navy Seal and a good friend, Quinn would be dead.

  “Okay. I was messed up back then, but I should’ve looked more into her death once I returned to the U.S. I still have nightmares about that night.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through. To lose a fellow SEAL during a mission is bad enough, but to lose your woman…” He shook his head and turned back to his computer.

  According to Malik, Quinn had been in and out of consciousness at a Germany hospital for three weeks after that mission in Tzbekystan. When he finally woke up, and asked about Alandra, Malik said he hadn’t seen an American woman near the site where he’d found Quinn. It didn’t make sense. The last thing Quinn remembered was Alandra in his arms, blood spilling from her chest from a gunshot wound. A jolt of rage that always accompanied the memory shot up his spine. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands. This research into Alandra’s death brought up memories he wanted to keep buried.

  When the doorbell rang, Quinn welcomed the intrusion. He released a weighted breath and shook off the thoughts of that horrific night before he stood to go to the door.

  “Be right back,” he told Wiz. “That’s probably Malik here to check out my security system.”

  “What’s up my brother?” Quinn said when he swung the door open. “I thought you were going to be here hours ago.”

  “Man, this has been a crazy-ass day. Nothing has gone as planned. You’re lucky I made it.” Malik shrugged out of his jacket and left his tools near the front door.

  “Well, I’m glad you did.” Quinn started toward the office and Malik followed. “When I first asked you to check things out, it was because something tripped the alarm last week and it took almost fifteen minutes to reset it. Now, a little while ago, a light started blinking regarding one of the sensors.”

  “Yeah, my office called a few minutes ago about your sensor, but for whatever reason, we couldn’t reset it on our end.” Malik walked into the office and placed his laptop on the table in front of the love seat. “What’s up, Wiz?”

  “Not much, dude. I see Q is still pulling rank and has us out in the middle of the night doing his dirty work.”

  Quinn hunched his shoulders. “You guys could’ve said no. Malik, you want a beer?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe after I finish.”

  The tallest of the three, Malik also known as Tree, stood at six-foot-seven and weighed two hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle. His bulk alone intimidated the most dangerous adversary and as a securities specialist, clients felt they got their money’s worth.

  “Well, there’s beer in the fridge and chips on the counter. Help yourself.”

  Malik powered up his laptop. “I hope you plan to feed a brotha more than just beer and chips.”

  “Once you check out my alarm system, then I’ll feed you. Until then, that’s it.”

  “So, have you guys found anything?” Malik asked.

  “Not much.” Quinn said. “We followed a trail from when she left Virginia five days before I saw her in Tzbekystan. She flew from Virginia to Miami, stayed in a hotel for a night, but that’s where the trail goes cold. Now, Wiz is trying to get into the CIA mainframe to see what we can find.”

  “Well, I’ll let you guys continue digging while I figure out what’s going on with this alarm system.” Malik typed something into his computer, but stopped when it beeped several times. “Q, it looks like the sensor on the right side of your house is out as well as one of the cameras which is weird. I’ll check out the keypad and then look around outside.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Malik reenter the house, cursing and slamming doors.

  What the hell? Quinn rushed out of his office, followed by Wiz. They stopped short when they got to the end of the hall. Malik stood against the wall huffing and puffing with blood oozing from his bottom lip, the sleeve of his jacket ripped, and broken glasses in his hands.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Wiz asked.

  “She is what happened to me,” he growled and pointed to the family room.

  She? Quinn glanced in the direction Malik pointed, seeing a woman sprawled on the sofa.

  “Her ass is probably why the alarm sensor is not working. I think she short circuited the damn thing.” Malik slouched and held his side. “Don’t get too close. She’s a wild one. I think she might’ve bruised my ribs.”

  Quinn moved closer to the sofa, unable to see the woman’s face. “What did you do to her?”

  “I punched her.”

  “WHAT? You hit a woman?” Quinn glared at his long time friend.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Malik tossed up his hands. “She attacked me with some judo - karate shit.”

  “Man, you can be such a jerk sometime. I can’t believe all you could think to do was punch her. She’s half your size.” Wiz said shoved passed him. “I’ll get some ice.”

  Quinn sat on the edge of the sofa and leaned over her. With a finger under her chin, he turned her head slightly not missing the tinted area across her jaw where Malik must’ve hit her. It was the woman from the hospital.

  “Don’t let her size fool you. That girl landed some good blows, and she’s quick.”

  Quinn couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked so much like Alandra that if he didn’t know any better he’d say it was her. He must have shifted just enough to wake her and before he had a chance to react, she started swinging. “Whoa.” Quinn halted her with a death grip on her wrist, and then their eyes met. He jumped to his feet and backed away from the sofa.

  Oh shit. It can’t be. There was no way she could be alive. When she rose from the sofa, he took a slow perusal of her body from the top of her head down to the red ballerina-like shoes covering her feet. Behind the long straight reddish hair, green contact lenses, and a thinner body than he remembered, stood the woman he’d vowed to love until the end of time. Alandra - dark olive skin, the flattened nose inherited from her Hispanic father, full lips, and a curvaceous body all from her African American mother.

  He moved in closer. Despite the minor changes to her appearance, he was almost sure it was her. But how was it possible? He’d held her bloodied body in his arms. No way could she have survived a round of bullets to the chest. Never had he been at a loss for words when it came to a beautiful woman, but when the woman was supposed to be dead, words escap
ed him.

  “Q, don’t tell me you know this woman,” Malik roared.

  “Keep him away from me,” Alandra said of Malik.

  Quinn shook his head in disbelief when she spoke. Her deep velvety voice could have easily belonged to a 1-900 phone sex operator.

  “You attacked me!” Malik yelled from across the room. I think you busted up one of my ribs with that judo shit. Who the hell are you anyway?”

  The question jolted Quinn out of his coma-like shock. He looked from Malik to Wiz, who had just returned with the ice. “I need you guys to give us a minute.”

  Malik shook his head. “No way, man. Not before you tell us who she is.”

  Quinn narrowed his eyes at Malik, wishing he’d back off, but in all fairness, Quinn couldn’t be mad at them for wanting some answers. He wanted some too. He looked over his shoulder at Alandra.

  “Why don’t you tell my friends who you really are Ms. LeBlanc?”

  Alandra tilted her head. “Porque no puedes decirles? Ellos son tus amigos.”

  It took everything within Quinn not to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and shake her. Yeah, these guys were his friends and sure he could tell them who she was, but he was still trying to process her actually being alive, and in his house! The last thing he wanted to do was play games. Feeling his patience wane, he said as calmly as he could. “I want you to tell them.”

  Her hands slammed on her hips and she huffed, “My name is Velvet LeBlanc.”

  With one-step Quinn was in her face. “Tell them who the hell you really are!”

  She jumped at his tone, and Quinn felt more than saw Wiz and Malik jolt to attention.

  “Come on, Q,” Wiz stepped closer, his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

  Quinn ignored the question, his eyes trained on Alandra. A few seconds passed with them staring at each other.

  “Fine. My name is Alandra Pargas-Hamilton … Quinn’s wife.”