Exchange of Fire

by P. A. DePaul

  The tension in his shoulders drained and her favorite dimpled grin appeared. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of hearing you say those words to me.” He pecked her fingers. “Have you talked to him yet?”

  Her stomach tightened. “No. Does he even realize I overheard him?”

  “Don’t know, but you shouldn’t wait too much longer. It’s no secret I think he’s an asshole, but whether he knows you heard him or not, assuring his connection to you as a teammate hasn’t been jeopardized is the right thing to do.”

  “You’re right.” She threaded her fingers with his. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to the conversation, though.”

  “You and your big heart.” He squeezed. “Look at it this way: Not talking to him is hurting him more than telling him you don’t feel the same. Right now, he could still be holding out hope you’ll change your mind, which’ll prevent him from moving on.”

  Damn. She knew Grady was right, but had no illusions the conversation would be easy.

  “Speaking of overdue talks, I have something of my own I need to say to you.”

  Sandra snapped her head up and searched his eyes, blood pounding past her ears. She couldn’t read a damn thing in his now closed face. Shit. Was he about to pop the question? What would her answer be? They’d only just started a real relationship two days ago.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Oh God. Not pop the question. He’s changed his mind! She felt a little sick.

  His breathing stuttered as he continued. “I owe you an apology for the way I reacted in the cabin. I accused you of awful things and twisted your explanation to feed into my anger.”

  “No, Grady.” Sandra picked their entwined hands up and pulled them to her chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t need your apology. I’ll always be the one who owes that to you for not being honest in the first place.”

  “When we were in the woods hunting Mars,” Grady said as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said, “and I saw how you completely shut down, fighting against the terror of your memories, that’s when it hit home that I was being an ass. But I was still so upset, I wouldn’t allow myself to admit it. I’m sorry.”

  “Stop, please.” Sandra clenched their hands together. “It all worked out in the end. We both survived wrestling with the ghosts of our pasts.”

  His shuttered gaze collapsed and his irises showed . . . pride? “You were amazing on Wednesday. I stood up from Carlos’s dead body to see this fierce warrior staring down at me, holding a wicked sniper rifle without a hint of anguish. Breathtaking. I’ll never forget it, but how are you doing now?”

  Sandra inhaled, the air wobbly. “I’m okay, actually. I’ve found a measure of peace inside I haven’t felt in years. When Carlos lifted his gun to kill you, all the self-loathing, doubt, and recrimination shattered. Saving your life was the only thing that mattered. And after I pulled the trigger, I knew I’d permanently broken free of the chains.”

  She shifted until she straddled his lap. “You are the reason I feel free. I can finally imagine having a future again, and when I picture it, it’s filled with love and laughter.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She instantly opened for him and he delved inside. They freed their tangled fingers, and she wasted no time pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans.

  He gripped both sides of her head and angled it so he could deepen the kiss. She roved her hands over his killer abs while he mirrored her actions by burrowing his hands underneath her polo.

  Their tongues dueled and danced and—

  Her phone chimed.

  “Ignore it,” he murmured against her lips. She lifted her chin and he placed a row of kisses down her throat.

  The tone beeped again.

  “Damn.” She pulled back. “I should at least see if someone’s missing a limb or not.” With great effort, she fished it out of her front jeans pocket.

  “For interrupting this, someone might be,” he mumbled.

  She tilted the phone for them both to read the two text messages from Cappy. The first one was a group message to everyone on the team. Charlie and Echo Squads left to go to ground. SBG in turmoil. Sen. Harris has temp. control—Delta Squad still active duty. Meet back at Command Central in thirty minutes.

  AKA Grady’s house. The team had pretty much taken over the place.

  The second was sent only to her. Have you made a decision to accept the position?

  And just like that, every hot, salacious feeling fled, leaving behind cold reality. She swallowed over her pounding heart and peered at Grady. His shuttered expression said so much, yet nothing at all.

  Sandra sighed. “I told Cappy I needed to talk to you first before making any decision.”

  “Do you want to be the team sniper again?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” She tried to control the raging turmoil the question caused, not that she had any effect. “I’m so afraid that an element from that world will find its way to this safe haven again. I couldn’t handle it if my actions destroyed everything you built.” She swallowed and looked away for a moment, hating to have to admit that she had already impacted his livelihood. “I mean, look at what you’re going through now. Business is down and parents have expressed a concern about sending their kids to a place that may not be safe. Christ, a few of them even packed their children up when they saw me crossing the floor, I guess convinced the cartel will try again.”

  The creases in his forehead deepened, and he asked solemnly, “Put all that aside for a minute. If you had the perfect scenario here, would you want to be a sniper again?”

  “What about you? Would you want me out in the field again? Could you sit here while I’m out on a mission?” Yes, it was a stall, but she needed time to think.

  “Who said anything about me staying here?” His face screwed up into incredulous indignation. “You don’t think I’d allow you to go out on assignment without me there to cover your back, do you? Screw that. Delta Squad member or not, where you go, I go.”

  She couldn’t help it, she leaned forward and placed a large kiss on his lips. “Who would watch the center?” she asked when she pulled back . . . reluctantly.

  His cheeks turned pink and he cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to say anything just yet since we’re still trying to figure everything out, but I’ve been drafting an ad for a full-time manager to run the place. I think having this person here on a daily basis and us only here sporadically might help bolster the community’s confidence that the center itself is safe.”

  “Oh, Grady, that’s such a great idea, but I know how much you love it here.” Sandra felt torn between hope that he’d support her return to Delta and guilt that he’d be giving up his passion.

  “I love you more,” he said bluntly. “I’m not selling Gradwick, so I’ll always be able to work whenever I want, but I think it’s time I hand over the reins to someone else.”

  Sandra couldn’t stop the grin from spreading. “Then I guess I’ll text Cappy and tell him it’s a definite possibility.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Though it may be my name on the front of the cover, I need to say thank you to a few of the many people who helped bring this story to life. This list is in no way comprehensive and I wish I could name every person but here is the condensed version.

  Thank you to my husband for his unending support and encouragement. No matter how many times I had to talk through a point, you were always there to listen and offer your opinion. You deserve an award for stepping in and keeping the house from falling apart and dinner on the table.

  To my agent, Michelle Grajkowski, a huge thank you! Your desire to stretch your wings into the world of romantic suspense and taking a chance on an upcoming author is humbling, and I can’t thank you enough for choosing me. Your patience, feedback, and brainstorming sessions have been invaluable. Still Snoopy Dancing!

  Katherine Pelz, Berkley editor extraordinaire! Your insights have made this sto
ry even stronger. Amazing how with just a small tweak, you can make a whole paragraph come to life. Thank you so much for branching into the romantic suspense world and believing in my story.

  To the rest of the amazing folks at Berkley and Penguin I heartily give my thanks. My cover is beautiful (okay, yummy is probably more accurate), my words are polished through the dynamic copyediting of Kate Hurley, my publicist Courtney Landi has helped this novel to be discovered, and my story is formatted and visually appealing and accessible on every e-reader.

  Thank you to Retired Police Sergeant John R. McGee; AKA Dad. Conversations with you are always so much fun. Talking guns, ballistics, and how investigations work are so much easier when I don’t have to worry about being placed on my local police department’s watch list (especially when some of my questions involve killing people).

  Jean McGee, you aren’t just my fabulous stepmother, you’re my biggest cheerleader. Your support and one-hundred percent belief in me carried me through days when I thought for sure this story would just remain in my head.

  My beta-readers and sounding boards must have doused themselves in awesomesauce. Mandi Derhammer and Amy Gledhill, you guys rock. Your honest feedback is something I can’t begin to quantify, but your biggest accomplishment is your ability to understand my mad ramblings. I know I talked in circles or a mile a minute as I tried to describe the vision I had for the story and bless you two, you were right there in my crazy world helping me paint the picture.

  A big thank you to Captain Randy Shepherd of the Guilford County, NC Sheriff’s Office. Your patient, detailed explanations helped me understand all the technical aspects of a sniper rifle and what it means to be a sniper. I truly appreciate your time and experience. I own any and all errors in this book.

  Lee Lofland needs to be thanked for his Writer’s Police Academy. Through this multi-day intensive conference, I received hands-on experience and a host of contacts in the law enforcement community I never would have met on my own.

  Thank you to Corporal Stephanie N. Cosby, USMC for providing me with the correct military lingo. Also, thank you to two people in my local Subway who I see at least four times a week—Manisha Patel and Pravin Kher. You two are awesome. I don’t even need to say my order anymore. You’ve kept me well fed during the writing of this book.

  But I saved the best for last. A massive thank you to you, the reader, for taking a journey with me in this first book of a new series. I hope you love these kick-ass characters as much as I do.

  Read on for a special preview of the next SBG novel from P. A. DePaul

  SHADOW OF DOUBT

  Available soon from InterMix

  Chapter 1

  Columbia, South America—Six Years Ago

  Michelle Alger swung her leg over the back of the four-wheel ATV and rested her hands on Ignacio Ramirez’s hips.

  “I’m so glad you reconsidered,” she yelled over the thrum of the loud engine. “I can’t wait to see this amazing paradise your family owns.” She shifted back to the edge of the black pleather cushion. With her legs straddling his and the vibrations coursing through the seat, she couldn’t escape the uncomfortable sexual intimacy the off-road vehicle forced on her.

  Knowing Nacio’s over-inflated ego, he probably interpreted her loose grip and spread thighs clenching him as her capitulation to his constant offers to a night full of sex. Yeah, right.

  “Your uncle won’t even know we’re traipsing on his land,” Michelle promised, trying not to squirm.

  “You know he held out as long as he had because he basked in your begging, right?” Maria asked from the back of another red ATV, her heavy Spanish accent making it almost impossible to understand. “He laid it on thick with his adventures of growing up in the wild rainforest just to prolong your shameless pleading.”

  Michelle laughed.

  Nacio twisted and smiled. “Maybe. But wait until you see it for yourself. The samples out there are spectacular. We’ll ace this final.”

  Luis, the fourth member of their environmental lab group, patted Maria’s hand around his waist then pointed at Nacio. “You lead the way.”

  Nacio winked at Michelle and said in a low, sexy voice, “Better hold on tight.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes and pushed him in the shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you, man-whores are not my type?”

  Nacio’s throaty laugh did nothing for her.

  He revved the engine and popped the ATV into gear. The four-wheeler jumped forward, causing her to wrap her arms around him tightly. Showoff.

  As Nacio headed for a well-used dirt trail, Michelle turned to make sure the small, beat-up trailer hitched to the back rolled along with them. All of the equipment their group needed as well as their tents and provisions to camp for a few days rested on one unstable latch. Whoever had used the trailer before them must have gotten into an accident because the whole mechanism was seriously bent.

  Michelle sighed. What did she expect? The Universiadad del sur Columbia wasn’t a rich school by any standards. She was lucky they supplied the off-road vehicles at all, let alone the trailers and equipment countless students used to study the Amazon rainforest over the years.

  Luis quickly dropped in line behind them and within moments they were swallowed by the vegetation. Despite being in close quarters to her womanizing group member, Michelle’s stomach danced in anticipation of the discoveries that lay ahead. She counted her blessings every day at the opportunity of being an exchange student from the University of California for a semester. To study the ecosystem of the Amazon directly was a dream come true.

  Her fellow budding ecologists loved hanging around her because it gave them the opportunity to practice their English and learn the latest slang. Most days Michelle could figure out what they were saying—or trying to say—but sometimes wading through the thick accents and wrong word choices made her head ache.

  The trek to the mystery location was slow going. Many times it felt like the trail doubled back and the ruts so deep she thought for sure the ATV wouldn’t be able handle their weight combined with the trailer, but thankfully it did.

  The deeper they trekked into the forest, the stiffer Nacio’s posture became. Where the heck were they? She couldn’t really judge the distance with the crawling pace and winding “trail.”

  She glanced at her watch. 4:13 p.m. Five hours. Five looooooonnnnnng hours on the back of a four-wheeler made her butt numb and the feeling in her toes a forgotten memory.

  She tapped Nacio’s rigid shoulder. “I need a break.”

  He shot a glance at the surrounding area, his movement almost jerky with its tension. Finally, he called over the droning engine, “We’re almost at the bridge.”

  Bridge? “What bridge?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Her long-sleeved shirt clung to her skin. Sweat from the dense humidity ran down her body in rivulets. She swiped her hand through her short, brown hair and grimaced at the wetness coating her fingers and palm. Thank God she had cut it right before she boarded the plane to come here. She couldn’t imagine trying to cope with long, thick waves in this heat.

  She uncapped the canteen strapped across her body and took a swig. Early on in the journey she had learned to keep the swallows short. With so many ruts and twists, anything longer just spilled down her front.

  Birds cawed and flapped away at their appearance. The magnificent colors of a parrot’s wings in flight never ceased to amaze her. Of course they weren’t the only birds she saw, but they were the ones she searched for the most.

  They rounded another bend and the oppressive darkness of the full tree canopy fell away. Nacio stopped the ATV and Michelle blinked at the sight before her. Or rather the lack of scenery before her. A cliff. They were stopping at a cliff?

  She scanned the area. The small opening was only big enough for their vehicles to pull to the side before the trail disappeared into the tree line again. Instead of a beautiful sunset in the late December sky, thick clouds threa
tened rain.

  “We stopping for a break?” Michelle asked as Nacio hopped to the ground.

  Luis and Maria pulled up beside them.

  “Nah,” Nacio replied, his mouth grim and an edge of strain tinged his voice. “We’re here.”

  Michelle’s stomach plunged. She swung her leg over the ATV and stepped down. Her legs almost gave out and the muscles in her thighs quivered. Great. She could imagine the jokes from the others about how straddling Nacio made her walk funny.

  Pebbles and rocks crunched under her boots as she paced to get the blood flowing.

  “Oh, how pretty!” Maria exclaimed, scrabbling off the bike and scurrying to the edge. “Look!” She pointed at something below.

  Michelle cautiously moved forward and craned her neck. She whirled on Nacio. “Is this a joke?”

  Steps had been cut into the rock face leading down to a platform where a wood and rope bridge spanned the space between two rock cliffs. The bridge swayed in the strengthening wind brought on by the incoming storm and had to be a hundred feet in the air. The riverbed sped below, its whitecaps frothing against the boulders protruding from its depths.

  “You expect us to carry all of our equipment and gear over that?”

  “Si,” Nacio barked, pausing his perusal of the landscape around him. He yanked off one of the straps holding their gear on the trailer.

  Okay. Maybe the guy acted like a jerk when he was overtired. “How do you know it’s safe? That wood looks old.”

  “Don’t be such a wuss,” Luis quipped, grinning at his obvious attempt at slang. “There’s webbing taller than you on both sides.”

  “It’s safe,” Nacio grunted. “Now get up here and grab your stuff. We need to clear out and set up camp.”

  Michelle’s heart relocated into her stomach. Warning. Warning, her instincts yelled. Not a good idea. Did she have an alternative? If she attempted to hike back by herself, she’d be lost in a half hour. She glanced again at the ominous bridge of death, then at the thick vegetation crowding the treeline. Death by tumbling off a bridge or death by wild beasts if she tried to hike back by herself? Rats on rye toast. She lagged behind Luis and Maria and grabbed as much of the gear as she could carry.