Spliced

by Robin Leigh Miller

  Spliced

  Robin Leigh Miller

  For ten years, Avery Easton has quietly lusted after her twin brother’s best friend, Ridge Gates. When the cruel, cold hand of fate takes her brother’s life, Avery and Ridge turn to each other in grief and share a night of ecstasy. But mind-blowing sex with the man of her dreams can’t push away Avery’s reality.

  Violent and terrifying events have followed her brother’s body home and introduced Avery to another man…one who’s willing to give her everything she needs. And then there’s the secret she harbors that could tear her and Ridge apart even as it connects them for the rest of their lives.

  A promise on the battlefield led Ridge straight into the arms of the woman he knows he has no business being with, but can’t stay away from. If he fails to come to terms with his broken body and Avery’s revelations, he could lose her forever—if not to another man, then to the violence that brought Ridge and Avery together.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Spliced

  ISBN 9781419938016

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Spliced Copyright © 2011 Robin Leigh Miller

  Edited by April Chapman

  Cover design by Kendra Egert

  Photography: Dreamstime.com

  Electronic book publication December 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Spliced

  Robin Leigh Miller

  Chapter One

  Blistering rays of sun beat down on Ridge Gates as he led his men through the streets of a small village in Afghanistan. All had been quiet for days now. No gunfire, no mortar rounds followed by explosions and no death, thank whatever God was looking out for them. He’d seen more than enough death than any one man should see in a lifetime.

  Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Cale Easton—probably the best friend he’d ever had—watching the buildings with an eagle eye. That was Cale. He didn’t trust peaceful patrols and the quiet over the last couple of days had his nerves rankled.

  Ridge understood. They’d pay in some way for the peace, a big way if he guessed right. At least he knew he had Cale watching his back. He trusted his other men, just not as much as he trusted Cale. They’d gone through boot camp together, backed each other up and had never left the other hanging.

  Off and on over the years they had been separated for certain duties but had always kept in touch. When Ridge signed up for a second tour in Afghanistan, Cale pulled some strings and got assigned to his unit. What strings the man had been able to pull he didn’t know and right now didn’t give a damn. His friend was here and watching his back once again—that was all that mattered.

  “Hey, Gates,” Cale shouted from behind him.

  Ridge turned and shaded his eyes from the sun. “Yeah.”

  Cale jerked his head toward a crumbling building off to his left. It didn’t look out of the ordinary, not here. “What is it?” He could tell by the way Easton gripped his rifle and his body tensed that something had set off his alarm.

  “Got a lookout. What do you suppose someone needs a lookout for here?”

  The damp hairs on the back of Ridge’s neck stood up as he shifted his gaze to the top of the dilapidated building. He’d learned early on in their friendship not to question Cale’s instincts. He was sharp and just damn good at sniffing out trouble. Sure enough, he could see the top of a head bobbing up and down, and if he was right, that was the barrel of an M16 peeking over the edge.

  “Damn,” Ridge muttered. He didn’t like it. His men were open targets on this street for that maniac and his gun. “Spread ‘em out,” he growled to his unit.

  The four men put distance between themselves and continued walking, all aware now of the man and his gun above them.

  “We keep walking. Let’s not set anything off until we have better cover.” Ridge glanced back at Cale. The man had his gaze glued to the spot on the roof. Any sudden movement and Cale would put a bullet in the top of the would-be sniper’s head. Yeah, Easton was just that good.

  Ridge could never figure out why Easton didn’t enlist in Special Ops. He had the stamina, skills and intelligence for it, but apparently not the will.

  “Hey, man,” Cale said from behind him. “My sister said to tell you hi. I got a letter from her this morning.”

  Ridge flashed him a quick smile before focusing on the street ahead. Ah yes, Avery Easton, Cale’s twin sister. Thank God she didn’t look that much like her brother. They shared the same wavy, chestnut-brown hair, almond-shaped, light chocolate-brown eyes, but the similarities ended there. Where Cale was buff, hard and intimidating, Avery was soft, curvy and sweet.

  Cale said she wasn’t as sweet as she seemed, only putting on that act when Ridge was around, but Ridge wasn’t so sure. The first time Cale had taken him home to meet her after boot camp she’d given him a shy smile with a twinkle in her eye. Damn, but she’d been a cute little thing back then.

  Over the last ten years he’d seen her maybe a dozen times and each time he marveled at how she’d grown, matured and filled out but had still radiated the kind of properness that had men like him taking a step back. You could look, but no touching.

  He figured it wouldn’t be long before she had herself a businessman, who drove a fancy car and earned more money than God, to take care of her. What he wouldn’t give to steal her away for a weekend and run his hands all over those luscious curves of hers and make her scream his name before she met that guy. A picture of her popped into his mind.

  The last time he saw her she had been wearing a little white tank and a pair of cutoff shorts. She’d been out front of her house washing her car when he and Cale had pulled up. Jesus, he’d lost his breath at first sight of her. Her ample breasts were trying hard to spill over the top of her tank and the cut-off shorts were barely covering her full, round, plump ass.

  Avery Easton had an ass that made him want to grab it, sink his fingers in deep and hold on. Damn, but there wasn’t one thing he didn’t like about that woman. Even with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and stray strands flouncing around her face, she still looked sophisticated. Cale had jumped out of the car and strolled up to his sister, who’d promptly jumped into his arms. Ridge, well, he’d had to take a few moments and bring his body back under control. He couldn’t have greeted Avery with a hard-on the size
of his sidearm.

  Hell yeah, Avery Easton was Ridge Gates’ dream woman, his best friend’s sister and way out of his league. Cale didn’t seem to think so—in fact, he’d tried a couple of times to get them hooked up but Ridge declined. Avery deserved someone other than a grunt in her life and he wasn’t too proud to admit it. He was who he was and made no apologies for it.

  Still, sometimes when he received a letter from her, he couldn’t help but think how nice it would be, even for a little while, to belong to such a woman. Ridge snorted to himself—yep, and after they’d break up he’d lose her altogether. Better to have her in his life as a friend than not at all.

  “She wants to know when we’re coming home again,” Cale said with a smile in his voice.

  Ridge grunted. Not for at least another month when this tour finished. Ridge glanced back up to the roof of the building they were passing. Yeah, they’d be going home in a month unless they caught a bullet or a missile.

  “Easton,” he said so only Cale would hear. “Remember that alert that came out yesterday?” he asked as he spotted yet another lookout on a roof a few buildings down.

  “Yep,” Cale replied with a hint of unease.

  “You think this might be it?”

  Cale didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. They knew this area well, had been patrolling it for damn near six months and even when they’d been ducking for cover while the remaining Taliban took potshots at them, they’d never seen snipers on the roofs.

  “They’re popping up all over,” Cale rumbled with anger. “Damn, I think we’ve stumbled into a hornets’ nest today.”

  All the way up and down the street they saw men atop the buildings, watching, waiting and armed. Word was some high-ranking Taliban leaders were getting ready to hold a meeting with some very rich men who wanted to back their cause. The last damn thing they needed was power-hungry millionaires backing the Taliban. The fucking war would never end.

  “Gates! Gates!”

  Ridge spied a young girl coming toward him. She wore a burka covering her face and a long dress that she needed to pick up to run. He knew who she was, but had never seen her covered like this before. Oh, hell yeah, they’d found the Taliban.

  “What is it, Sehr?” he asked carefully.

  “My mother,” the girl said in a thick accent. “My mother has been hurt. Come help!” She grabbed Ridge by the arm and started tugging at him franticly.

  This young girl of about sixteen had been speaking with them and following them for almost five months. Her mother had been publicly killed when the Taliban had ruled this area. She lived with her little brother and elderly grandfather.

  Ridge turned and pinned Easton with a cold gaze. She was trying to warn them and Cale had caught it. “Becker, O’Reilly, Bender, come with me.”

  The four men followed the girl as she ran toward her small home.

  “You know what this means, right?” Easton said between gritted teeth.

  “We are neck-deep in shit is what it means. As soon as we get inside you get on the radio and call this in.” Sehr continued to pull at Ridge’s arm. He could see the stark fear in her eyes and prayed this young, precious girl wouldn’t be punished for getting them out of the line of fire.

  Ridge turned to Becker. “Her mother needs medical help,” he said as loudly as he could without being obvious. Becker jerked his head around and gave him a quizzical look. Ridge simply nodded once, willing the medic to keep his mouth shut.

  Becker nodded back in understanding. As soon as they walked through the small, wooden front door of Sehr’s dwelling they spread out, crouched below the windows and prepared for battle.

  Ridge grabbed Sehr by the arm and dragged her to the floor next to him. “Smart girl,” he said as his heart thundered in his throat. “What’s going on?”

  “Taliban,” she whispered. “Many. They meet with men.”

  Ridge glanced briefly at Cale, who was on the radio talking nice and quiet, his jaw clenched and his finger on the trigger.

  “Where are they meeting?” If Sehr was this panicked they had to be close.

  She pulled the burka from her head, tossed it to the side and pointed with a shaky finger in the direction they’d just come. “Gates,” she said with tears in her eyes. “Men like you.”

  “Men like me,” he repeated, not understanding what she meant.

  As he shook his head she grabbed the front of his flack jacket. “Men like you, skin, hair.”

  Oh, hell. “Americans? You’re telling me the Taliban is meeting with Americans?”

  “I don’t know.” She’d all but crawled into his lap now, scared out of her mind and trembling so fiercely he thought she’d shake apart in front of him.

  “Calm down,” he whispered in a soothing tone. “Take it slow and tell me what you saw.”

  As he smoothed her dirty, tangled hair, Sehr took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. Ridge couldn’t believe the courage it took to go out in the open and drag their asses to safety. They probably owed this little girl their lives.

  “Men, skin and hair like you,” she told him with a tremble in her voice. “Don’t know what speech.”

  Ridge looked toward Cale again. He was still talking on the radio but in such a low voice Ridge couldn’t understand what he was saying. It shouldn’t take this long to get backup. What the fuck was going on?

  “Where are your grandfather and brother?”

  “Hide,” she responded, clinging to him.

  “You hide too. Bender, take her to her grandfather.” Ridge pried the girl’s fingers from his flack jacket, held them to his chest and looked her right in the eye. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered.

  Sehr nodded with a jerk. Bender slipped his arm around her and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay, honey. Let’s get you undercover.”

  As soon as Bender got her out of the small room, Ridge crawled across the floor to Cale. He needed to know the plan, now. Cale disconnected communications, let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes.

  “You aren’t going to like this,” he whispered, refusing to look at Ridge. “Orders are orders.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Now wasn’t the time for riddles, for the love of God. They were buried up to their ears in Taliban.

  “We have orders to sniff them out, find the building and take them if we can.”

  Ridge’s pulse skipped a few beats and then began a race of monumental proportions. “I assume you told them there are only five of us and about twenty of them, fully armed.” This wasn’t happening. The brass did not think they were capable of going up against the most ruthless enemy the United States had known in forever with only five fucking guns.

  Cale leveled a cold, hard glare at him. “I take lead on this.” Ridge had only seen Cale this serious once before and that was when Avery had had a problem with a man hassling her. “I mean it, Gates. If you want to come out the other side alive you let me take lead on this. I know what I’m doing and how to do it.”

  He knew how to run an operation like this? Since when? But sitting there, looking into his friend’s cold, trained eyes, he knew. Probably always suspected but refused to think about it. Yes, Cale knew how to run an operation.

  Ridge nodded. “Okay, you take lead.” This wasn’t the time to get into an argument with Cale.

  “I have a pretty good idea where they are. I’m going to go around back, confirm my suspicions and then we’ll put together a plan.” As he spoke, Cale removed some of his heavier equipment, making it easier for him to maneuver through the houses.

  “You watch your ass out there, Easton. I mean it. You get yourself fucking killed and I’ll piss on your grave.” The thought of Cale dying had the air in Ridge’s lungs freezing like ice crystals.

  “Piss on whatever you want,” Cale said with a grin. “But I want you to promise me something. If I do take one, you watch out for Avery, take care of her.”

  Take care of Avery. They wer
en’t having this conversation. Cale grabbed Ridge by his flack jacket and pulled until they were nose to nose. Fierce determination glowed in Cale’s eyes.

  “Promise me, damn you. She’s all I’ve got in this world besides you. I want your word you’ll take care of her,” Cale snarled.

  “You have it,” Ridge responded with a nod. Suddenly Cale had a vacant look in his eyes, like he wasn’t there. Ridge had seen him do this several times over the last ten years but never while they’d been in the middle of a crisis. “Easton, you okay, man?”

  Just that fast Cale was there again, the same cold determination filling the recesses of his eyes. “I’ll be back. Be ready.”

  Before Ridge could respond, Cale darted out the back of the small house. Ridge plopped down on his ass, leaned his back against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d woken up in an alternate universe, that’s what had happened. Sometime during the night the world had got sucked down some black hole and they’d all woken up here.

  “Gates, what’s going on?”

  Ridge opened his eyes and looked at the three men scattered around the room. They were young, no more than twenty-five, and the brass expected them to play Special Ops. He had to be honest with them. Lying would only get them killed.

  “We’re sitting in the middle of a Taliban party. Only a few hundred feet away are some the highest leaders. We, gentlemen, are expected to take them down.”

  Becker snickered. O’Reilly closed his eyes and hung his head. Bender paled to the color of a dirty, faded sheet. He had to keep them together. They couldn’t afford to let fear overtake them, not when their lives depended on it.

  “Easton went to check out the house he believes they’re in. When he gets back, we formulate a plan so shake the fear now. We can’t afford it when the shit hits the fan.”

  “You’re serious.” Becker sobered and lost the smile. He, too, paled beneath the dirt and grime of Afghanistan.