by Amelia Autin
He dropped his carry-on suitcase by the door and was headed for the kitchen when he heard a sound he wasn’t expecting. He reached for his Beretta M9 in his ankle holster, then made his way on cat feet to the open bedroom door. The shower was running in the master bathroom, and the light was on. Niall crept to the doorway, ready to take out whoever had breached his ultra-sophisticated security system, then froze.
* * *
Savannah whirled around, but her scream never made it past her lips. She turned the water off and reached for the towel hanging from a hook over the shower stall. She wrapped the towel around herself and tucked the edge firmly in place before saying in as calm a voice as she could manage given the way her heart was still jumping, “Hello, Niall.” Then realized although he wasn’t planning to shoot her, he was one pissed off male.
“How the hell did you—how did you know where—who let you in?”
Correctly interpreting the series of unfinished and finished questions, she answered, “I tracked down your sister, Keira, through Nick D’Arcy. He didn’t want to tell me how to reach her, but I played my trump card—I said he owed me for having let myself be used as bait.” Her smile conveyed she was more than a little pleased she’d thought to use that as leverage. “Keira told me a few things about you, then she directed me to your brother, Shane. Shane told me the rest and he’s the one who let me in.”
“Where the hell is the US Marshal who’s supposed to be guarding you?”
“Umm...yes, well. About that...”
“Don’t tell me you gave him the slip.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.”
“Savannah...” Very pissed off, his mouth a tight line even when he spoke her name.
“I’m just teasing,” she said quickly. “I don’t need protection now that Spencer Davies and the Williamses have been arrested. Oh, and by the way,” she added, “they’re not really the Williamses. In fact, they’re not even married. Tammy took a plea and spilled her guts. After which Davies scrambled to take a plea, too. He confessed everything. And I mean everything, including the false statements he made to the DoD about me, making it appear I was a traitor. Only Martin, or whatever his real name is, is insisting on a trial.”
When Niall just stared at her, she said, “Could you point that thing somewhere other than at me? Just in case, you know, it accidentally discharges?”
He cursed under his breath—he seemed to do that a lot lately, she’d noticed—then bent down and tucked the gun in what she could see was an ankle holster. He radiated cold anger, but all he said when he stood up again was, “You have five minutes to get decent, then you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. I’ll be in the living room.”
* * *
He was going to kill Shane. No question about it, his brother had a lot of nerve. Niall had given Shane use of his apartment a few months back, when someone had been trying to assassinate Shane and he needed a safe place to stay. Niall had never bothered to remove Shane’s access from the security system, but that didn’t mean his brother had the right to—
Niall whipped out his cell phone and hit speed dial, but the phone rang and rang before going to voice mail. He didn’t waste time leaving a message, but he did send a text. He didn’t bother with the niceties, just typed:
What the hell were you thinking?
Then he fumed, needing a target for his anger but unable to vent. His phone dinged for an incoming text two minutes later.
Calm down before you blow a gasket. You’ll thank me later.
Like hell he would. He was just about to dash off a scathing response when Savannah entered the room. He didn’t hear her. He didn’t see her. But he sensed she was there, and when he turned around, he was right. How had he known? He was so dumbfounded by the realization he had known, that he was speechless, and Savannah spoke first.
“Before we say things we might regret, would you just answer one question honestly?”
“Question being?”
“Are you glad to see me?”
That stopped him in his tracks. Glad? Of course he was. Then tell her, dipstick. He tamped down his anger, born of exhaustion, guilt and frustration that he’d had to leave the country before he’d been able to confess everything to her, and quietly admitted the truth. “Yes.”
She was in his arms before he knew it, and the minute he touched her, he lost it. Then he was carrying her into the bedroom, stripping her out of the clothes she’d just put on and tearing off his own. He managed two instances of sanity. “I need a shower.” A statement Savannah dismissed with the contempt it deserved. And, “Condom.”
To which she replied, “No, you don’t. I’m on the patch now.”
Niall had never not used a condom. But he’d had himself tested twice a year anyway, just to be on the safe side, because he would never put a woman at risk. So he didn’t hesitate when Savannah made him that offer. And when he was deep inside her with her legs locked tightly around his, he whispered, “I’ve never—”
“I know. You told me before.” She undulated against him in a way designed to drive him insane, snapping every last leash on his restraint. Then he proceeded to make love to her until she joined him in madness.
* * *
They lay locked in each other’s embrace afterward. And though Niall had never imagined making his confession in bed, he couldn’t bear to let her go. “So if you spoke with Keira and Shane, you know my name isn’t Johnson,” he said slowly.
“I know.”
“There’s more.”
She stroked his cheek in soothing fashion. “I know that, too.”
His heartbeat accelerated. “I’ve killed people.”
He thought she’d be shocked, but all she said was, “So have I.”
He raised his head to stare at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, and she explained, “Not directly, no. But indirectly, yes, through the missiles I’ve helped design. I’m realistic enough to accept that as the lesser of two evils. I trust our country and our military to only use the weapons I helped create when it’s absolutely necessary.” She was silent for a moment. “I know you, Niall. You killed for one reason and one reason only—because they were bad people and you had no other choice.”
He digested what she’d said, amazed she understood. But he still hadn’t admitted... “I could have killed you.”
Then came the bombshell. “I know.”
His arms tightened around her as disbelief warred with hope, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
She drew a deep breath. “I figured it out after Davies confessed. I can’t say I understand my feelings on the subject, because I seem to be somewhat conflicted about it. Of course I’m glad you didn’t kill me—I don’t have a death wish. But knowing how much the government trusted me with information only a very few people have access to, I can see why some people might have thought it necessary to kill me to prevent me from betraying our country after the lies Davies spread about me.”
He shook his head. “Killing you was always a last resort. Only if there was no other way. But still...”
“Yes. But still.”
“I very quickly realized those who dispatched me to stop you were way off base,” he rushed to add. “But still...”
Savannah smiled, a brief movement of her lips, and repeated, “But still.” She hesitated for a few seconds before saying, “It wasn’t easy getting past that—don’t ever think it was. I was devastated at first. But then I remembered telling you that if my choice was between having you in my life and knowing your terrible secret, I would choose you.”
Tears slowly filled her eyes, but she blinked several times in an obvious attempt to hold them back. “I gave you the perfect out, Niall, but you refused to take it! That told me the kind of man you are at heart.”
He couldn’t have spoken right th
en to save his life, but Savannah wasn’t finished.
“Don’t you see, Niall? I fell in love with a man who puts honor and duty above everything, even himself. Even me.”
The tears spilled over, and though he desperately wanted to kiss them away, part of him still felt he no longer had the right despite her words.
But then she smiled through the tears and added, “I fell in love with a man who could make that difficult choice and then tell the truth about it. Even though you thought you were cutting your own throat by being honest with me.”
She kissed him, her face wet with tears, and he kissed her back, putting his entire soul into it. Then he raised his head, his own eyes suspiciously damp. “So...what you’re saying is...you forgive me?” His stern conscience needed the words.
“I love you, Niall Aspen Jones,” she whispered, peppering him with kisses. “I told you before and I meant it—there’s nothing to forgive.”
Epilogue
There were still hurdles to overcome, of course, and no one knew that better than Niall. So after he dried Savannah’s tears, after he responded to her fervent avowal of love the only way a red-blooded man could do, he led her back into the living room for a serious discussion.
He’d already realized that if any woman could understand and accept the secrecy surrounding his work, it was Savannah. But still...
“Assuming I don’t resign, I can never tell you anything about my job,” he began, gazing down at her left hand in his, thinking that the only thing he would change about it was the addition of a slender gold band on the fourth finger.
“Resign?” He could hear the bewilderment in her voice. “Why would you resign?”
“You live in Vail and you work in Tucson. I live and work here in DC. It might be possible I could relocate and still keep my job—I spend a lot of time on the road, as you’ve probably already figured out—but it would be inconvenient. DC is my home base, the place I go for assignment briefings and refresher training to stay the best at what I do. Commuting would put a strain on both my job performance and us. I don’t want to risk, either.”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “I don’t work in Tucson, remember? I resigned. And I put my house on the market the day I returned from White Sands.”
“What?”
“My job is flexible. Yours isn’t. There are plenty of defense contractors in and around Washington, DC, I can work for,” she assured him. “There’s even a division of my former employer located across the river in Virginia.”
“Yes, but...”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can pretty much write my own ticket where my work is concerned, you know.” She tried to look modest, but failed miserably. “If that’s the only thing you’re worried about, you’re worrying for nothing.”
Sudden relief made him laugh softly. “Yeah, those three patents—”
“Soon to be four,” she reminded him in all seriousness.
“Right, soon to be four. The woman I’m marrying is brilliant, and everyone in her field knows it.”
“The woman you’re—” She caught her breath. “Is that a proposal, Mr. Jones?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh.” Excitement gave way to disappointment, followed by what could only be described as acute embarrassment, and Niall realized she’d misunderstood.
“It’s not a proposal, Dr. Whitman. It’s a statement of fact.” And he winked at her.
Her slow smile warmed him. “Oh, really? A statement of fact?”
“Hell yeah. You can’t expect to continue taking advantage of me the way you did from Beijing to Shanghai without there being some price to pay.” He nodded judiciously. “I think marriage is warranted—there’s nothing like making the punishment fit the crime.”
She gasped in fake disbelief, easily falling into the playacting routine they’d established in China. “Me? It was you. You’re the sex maniac. I’m just your innocent victim.”
She squealed with laughter when he said, “Hah!” and threw her over his shoulder. “Let’s see who the real sex maniac is,” he teased, carrying her into the bedroom. But all desire to tease her left him when he had her pinned to the bed. And the only thing he could think of in that instant was that if he’d never been sent to China, he would never have met Savannah.
“You have to marry me,” he breathed, staring down at the woman who held his life in her hands. “You have to.”
Her gray eyes went all misty. “Just try to stop me.”
He closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment, trying to take it all in. When he looked at her again, he vowed, “You’ll never regret it, I swear.”
“I know I won’t.” She blinked until the mist cleared from her eyes, then her lips quirked into a teasing smile and her expression turned mischievous. “Especially if you work off that backlog.”
* * * * *
If you loved this novel,
don’t miss these thrilling titles in the
MAN ON A MISSION miniseries from Amelia Autin:
RESCUED BY THE BILLIONAIRE CEO
THE BODYGUARD’S BRIDE-TO-BE
KILLER COUNTDOWN
A FATHER’S DESPERATE RESCUE
LIAM’S WITNESS PROTECTION
ALEC’S ROYAL ASSIGNMENT
KING’S RANSOM
MCKINNON’S ROYAL MISSION
CODY WALKER’S WOMAN
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Special Agent Cowboy
by Regan Black
The first book in KILLER COLTON CHRISTMAS.
Chapter 1
Livia Lives!
Marie Meyers cringed at the headline alert on her phone, the sugar-sweetened coffee in her mouth going bitter. It couldn’t be true. A headline like that was an exercise in sensationalism. Click bait. Livia Colton, ruthless killer and crime boss of Shadow Creek, Texas, had died on her way back to jail when her car was washed into the river. True or false, this was almost the worst news Marie had ever heard.
As the chief digital officer for Colton, Incorporated, Marie defined her primary goal as creating a superb online experience for their customers and she worked to keep that positive experience a priority in long-term corporate growth strategy. Not only did that require her to collect data on their customers’ habits, it meant bei
ng aware of what was trending in the media and analyzing the corresponding data to better anticipate their subsequent interactions with the company.
Marie’s thumb hovered over the link on her cell phone, resisting the inevitable. She had to open the article, had to know what kind of message, rumors or facts were circulating out there, so she could be informed during the inevitable crisis meetings at the office today.
She set aside her coffee and held her breath as she clicked the link, half expecting her phone to explode. Or implode. Didn’t matter, as the result would be the same.
The banner for Everything’s Blogger in Texas had been updated to reflect the top, scintillating story, and the article boldly declared Livia Colton, criminal mastermind presumed dead, was in fact back among the living. The blog promised to deliver every juicy detail of the hunt for the Queen of the Coltons in real time. There was a convenient link to subscribe for updates.
“Lovely,” Marie muttered. A quick search proved Everything’s Blogger did have the jump on other gossip sites and traditional news outlets. They posted quotes from victims and people connected to Livia’s prior crimes and were weaving the story as they went along, connecting dots that might not even be related. The other sites were merely reporting the shocking news and waiting for confirmation, making them appear half a step behind.
Marie didn’t expect the lag to last, and the more reporters covering this development, the tougher things would be at work. Her appetite gone, she skipped breakfast and headed into the office, the news following her on every station as she scanned the radio channels during the drive. Her grip tight on the steering wheel, she cursed the way one high-profile bad apple could ruin the whole bushel.