Goddess Rising

by Alexi Lawless

  “What’s the prize?” Sam asked, hoping this all wasn’t just a rumor.

  “It’s not confirmed, but we heard the winners get to go to Naval Special Warfare Group Two over in Virginia Beach during spring break.”

  “Madre di Dio.” Alejandro looked at Sam and Rita with wide eyes. “That’s a game changer. Most people never get to see that place—ever.”

  Sam grinned back at him, reading his mind. He’d been training for the Army Rangers, but the Navy SEALs might end up being another viable option, especially if he received training and commendations from active members.

  “We start training tomorrow,” he said to Sam in a serious voice. “Every day, we practice different techniques.”

  Sam nodded, excitement warming her belly. “We’ll be ready.”

  *

  October—Sunday Afternoon

  Student Rec Center, Texas A&M

  S A M A N T H A

  Alejandro had been true to his word. They’d worked out like absolute fiends for most of the afternoon while the rest of the cadets enjoyed a rare day off, nursing hangovers from the win the night before. Sam and Alejandro started their workout with a fast five-mile run, rounded it out with weights, and then spent a couple hours sparring with one another in the student rec center.

  Alejandro was a dirty street fighter if she’d ever seen one. Viciously powerful and ruthless, he did whatever it took to win, no compunctions. He strongly favored boxing techniques, though his kicks weren’t bad. She had a few solid bruises on her legs and sides as proof. But where he was weak was in grappling and groundwork. Her background in Judo made it easier for her to win when she got enough of his momentum to throw him off balance or pin him to the ground—facts he’d discovered quickly and made every attempt to avoid. And while Sam was technically more proficient than he was, Alejandro was more ruthless as a result of a childhood of back-alley beat downs and growing up hardscrabble. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t second guess, and he always went for the throat—always.

  “You’re good,” he panted, circling her on the mat. “But you’re not mean enough. You have to assume every fight is going to end up with someone dead—”

  “You mean, like the night you tried to kill me?” Sam rebutted, knocking him to the ground with a swift foot sweep when he got in her radius.

  Alejandro grabbed her by the back of the knee as he went down and took her with him. “I wasn’t trying to kill you—I was trying to scare you,” he answered gruffly as they rolled across the mat.

  Sam ended up on top, neatly locking his arm with a leg pin. “You didn’t succeed,” she retorted as he bucked and twisted.

  “I can see that.” Alejandro tapped the mat, and as soon as Sam started to release her hold, he sucker-punched her in the gut with hard knuckles thickened from the street brawls he’d survived over the years.

  Gasping, Sam tried to roll away, and Alejandro reared up, his huge fist coming down hard toward her face. She jerked away last second, and he caught her ear instead. Head ringing, Sam kicked him off so hard, his head snapped back.

  “You’ll pay for that,” she panted, circling him, hands out and ready as he wiped the blood from his lips.

  “Prove it,” was all he said as they launched back into another round of hand-to-hand training.

  There wasn’t a clear winner at the end of their sparring, but they’d worked through some of their animosity, and they’d both developed a healthy respect for each other’s respective skills, with the marks and bruises to show for it.

  Who would have thought a few hours of beating on each other was the kind of therapy we’d needed? Sam thought as they shared a big bottle of water and ate protein bars afterward, trying to get their wind back as they examined the damage to their bodies, comparing notes.

  “I think the SEALs will be here this upcoming weekend for the training,” he told her. “I’m working in the ROTC office this week, so I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  She took another swallow of water. “We’ll be ready.”

  “Damn right we will,” Alejandro agreed. “You and I will do an extra hour a day after our regular workouts in the afternoon, all right?”

  She shrugged. “Only if you think you can handle it.”

  He shot her a look of wry amusement, a bruise already blooming under his eye. “I think I can handle it.”

  Sam glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to head out. Get some studying done.”

  Alejandro nodded, finishing up his protein bar as Sam picked up her keys.

  They walked out to the parking lot together, Sam thinking about a hot shower, a good meal, and the homework she needed to get done. So she was surprised when Alejandro stopped her just before she reached her car.

  “I want you to know it wasn’t personal,” he told her, his dark eyes serious. “My beef with you before,” he clarified.

  Sam cocked her head. “It sure as hell felt like it.”

  “It was meant to,” Alejandro admitted. “I’m not going to bullshit you and pretend I’m happy about what went down—”

  “If this is an apology, dude—you suck at it,” Sam interrupted.

  “I know.” Frustrated, Alejandro blew out a sigh. “I just saw you rolling in—this rich chick with nothing to lose—and it pissed me off,” he admitted. “You don’t need to be here, not like me—not like Rita. And yet none of us could break you or run you off. I just couldn’t understand it.” Alejandro shook his head. “Shit, I still don’t—”

  “All you need to know is that I’m serious,” Sam replied. “I’m here because I want to be. And maybe that’s better. Because I’m committed to this. I’m not doing this for anyone but me.”

  Alejandro met her eyes. For the first time in probably ever, the hostility between them was muted enough for them to really hear each other.

  “I still don’t like you,” he told her, though his voice was a little gentler.

  “The feeling’s mutual, I assure you,” Sam replied, mouth twisting. “But that might help us keep each other on our toes. Neither of us will be willing to cut the other any slack, right?”

  “Right.” He nodded. She and Alejo looked at each other for a moment longer before he stepped back. “Try to be on time tomorrow, slacker.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who’s limping,” she called out as he loped toward his car.

  Alejandro flipped her the bird and Sam laughed once, feeling better than she had in days, despite the battered bruising she was really starting to feel.

  When Sam pulled into her apartment a few minutes later, she spotted a sleek Mercedes parked in a nearby visitor slot. Definitely not a student ride, she thought before stepping out of the Mustang. She was just shutting the door and shouldering her bag when she heard someone call her name. Startled, she saw Travis leaning over the walkway to her apartment, dressed casually, his mink brown hair a little tousled, like he’d been driving with the windows open.

  “What’re you doing here?” she called out, surprised. Travis was the very last person she’d expected to see waiting for her, and Sam was admittedly intrigued. He was either sent by her father or he wanted to be there for some reason, and as he stood there smiling at her, she wondered which it was.

  “I thought I’d drop by in person with a slice of humble pie,” he told her, shaking a brown paper bag lightly. “I’ve got takeout and a geo report that proves you’re right about the oil reserves. Figured I’d give you the opportunity to gloat in person,” he joked with a self-deprecating shrug. “The lobbyists in D.C. are going to move ahead with your plan. Your dad approved it today.”

  “No kidding?” Sam replied, unexpectedly pleased she’d been right and incredibly grateful he had food with him. She was starved. “What kind of humble pie did you bring me?”

  “Apple,” he answered with a smile. “Your Aunt Hannah said it was your favorite.”

  “Man, those geo reports must be pretty damn good if you’re groveling this hard,” she teased, shouldering her gym bag an
d locking her car. “I should have put money on that bet.”

  “You’d have won big,” Travis admitted. “Either way, Wyatt Petroleum’s hit pay dirt again. Especially if your dad’s lobbyists get the Energy Commission to give him exclusive rights to that sliver of deep-water shelf.”

  Sam felt a broad grin break across her face before she winced, rubbing her bruised jaw, evidence of her sparring with Alejandro.

  “I’m gonna have to warn you,” she told him. “I look a little horrifying.”

  Travis laughed softly. “I doubt that.”

  Sam climbed the steps up to her apartment stiffly, her body aching from the sparring session with Alejandro. “Don’t tell me you came all this way from Houston just to let me gloat. No way you’re that much a glutton for punishment,” she teased.

  Travis shrugged casually. “I was actually out at the ranch with your dad. Thought I’d stop by on my way home to Houston.”

  “This is still a little out of your way,” Sam pointed out, stepping toward him.

  He shrugged. “What’s a little drive on a beautiful day like this?” Travis looked her over as she approached with those startlingly pale blue eyes of his. “Jeez, how does the other guy look?” he asked when she stopped in front of him. He tilted her chin gently with a long fingertip, getting a closer look at the bruise on her swollen jaw.

  “Hard to say. He was pretty ugly to begin with,” she joked, pulling away so she could unlock her door.

  “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  “Let’s just say that humble pie you brought better be good,” she said over her shoulder before inviting him in.

  Travis carried the takeout bag to her counter as he looked around her place. “I don’t remember college looking so neat and tidy.”

  “You’re talking to a future military officer,” she reminded him. “What did you think it would look like?” Sam foraged through her freezer until she found a bag of peas she pressed to the side of her face.

  “Fair point,” Travis conceded, opening up the bag he’d brought. “I was in a fraternity house most of undergrad. If I could see the floor, it was a clean room.”

  “Where’d you go to school?” she asked, curious.

  “UT Austin.”

  Her eyes widened. “Damn, you’ve got a lot of nerve coming to A&M to admit to your boss’s daughter you got your ass handed to you by an Aggie.”

  “See?” Travis laughed. “Now you know why I wanted to get my groveling over and done with quickly and privately. I’d never live it down that I got outclassed by our rival school and by a nineteen-year-old who isn’t even a petrochemical engineer.”

  Sam considered Travis with a mixture of wry consternation and amusement as he unpacked the takeout bag. He was probably the last person she’d anticipated seeing today, especially under the circumstances, but she kind of admired his nerve and she liked his style. She wasn’t entirely certain what he was after, but Travis clearly knew which side his bread was buttered on. Showing up to admit in person that he’d underestimated her was a bold move. But was it designed to curry favor with her father or her?

  “You’re lucky I’m starved,” Samantha commented. “What’d you bring besides Aunt Hanna’s famous apple pie?”

  “Sandwiches from Schlotzsky’s,” he told her. “Your dad told me you like the pastrami Reuben?”

  She groaned. “No, I love the pastrami Reuben. You get cheddar too?”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh, gimme, gimme.” Sam reached for the butcher-paper-wrapped delight, her stomach grumbling loudly.

  Travis pulled the sandwiches out of her reach. “Why don’t you shower and I’ll set up this spread. Everything will be all ready by the time you’re done. You can eat and read the geo report.” He arched a brow. “I might even let you gloat a little.”

  “You’ll let me gloat a lot, Travis Brandt,” Sam sassed, pulling at her damp clothes. She was coated in sweat and grime, and she absolutely needed a shower. Sam put the bag of peas on the counter as she headed toward her bathroom. “Plates and glasses are in the cupboard, and napkins are in the drawer,” she said over her shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

  Chapter 34

  October—Sunday, Early Evening

  Sam’s Apartment, Texas A&M

  W E S L E Y

  Seven days and seven nights. Only a week, but it’d felt like an eternity to Wes.

  He’d vacillated every day between talking himself into and out of being with Sam, when all he wanted to do was grab onto that girl and hold her tight. But the trigger had been tripped. The incessant self-doubt had lurked into every internal debate he’d been having the past week. Never in his life had Wes questioned so much; never in his life had he cared enough to do the questioning. Truth was, Wes had never been caught in the bewilderment of insecurity, perhaps because he’d never really had much to be worried about. He’d always gone with the flow, rolled with the tide.

  Then Samantha had walked into his viewfinder, and with one searing look that could have only lasted a fraction of a second, those days of careless ambivalence had been obliterated. Gone forever. Because now he wanted something more than he’d ever wanted anything before. In fact, it seemed strange to him now that he’d lived twenty-one years without even knowing she existed. In the space of a couple months, Wes couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without her in it. A damn tragedy, he told himself as he left his shift at Dixie’s early to head over to her place to surprise her.

  Wes hated the way he’d felt the past week—staying away from her while he attempted to get his head screwed on straight. He’d been denying himself all the things he’d come to need in a disconcertingly short period of time. And Sam must have known, of course. That girl was far too smart not to know he’d been off kilter since his visit to the ranch. But maybe she’d let it slide, maybe even chalked it up to his typically relaxed disposition.

  As Wes rode to her apartment, he felt the telltale flutter of excitement at the idea of holding her again, imagined all the ways he’d make love to her, all the wordless ways he’d apologize for being a little lost over the past few days. He parked the bike at the last available spot and took the stairs up to her place two at a time. He was just about to knock when he heard a burst of warm laughter through the door. He paused, his fist a breath away from touching her door before pressing his ear to the wood. He caught the strains of a blues guitar and the low murmur of conversation. Sam and someone else. Definitely a guy.

  Wes frowned, drawing back, reasoning that the rumble he heard could be easily be Chris or one of Sam’s ROTC buddies. But he figured he’d never know just standing at her door like a stalker in the dim light of the patio, so Wes rapped a few times in a quick ditty. He heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back, felt the shuffle of feet cross the floor.

  Sam swung open the door, and Wes’s heart swelled as he took in her cut-offs, noticing that she was wearing one of his t-shirts, loose but clingy enough to outline her body just so. Her hair was damp from a recent shower, and Wes nearly closed his eyes on a groan when he caught a whiff of her jasmine scent. Samantha was a sudden impact to the senses, like a hit of the finest, most addictive substance. Christ, he’d been a crazy man to stay away from her so long.

  “Wes!” Samantha smiled in the dim light illuminating the front door. “I thought you had to work tonight.”

  He stepped toward her, one arm sliding around her back as he kissed the hell out of her. Sam responded in kind for a moment, her grip tight round his neck as he lifted her to him. But she pulled back all too fast, a look of discomfort flashing across her face. “I wasn’t expecting you—” she said, a little breathless.

  “Missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

  “Clearly,” a distinct baritone interrupted from behind them.

  Wes’s head snapped up. He took in several things at once: Travis sitting casually at Sam’s kitchen table like he had every right to be there, and two empty plates and glasses in fro
nt of them, Texan blues playing the background.

  Wes let go of Sam slowly. “Travis,” he acknowledged, the hot sting of frustration and indignance making his face flush. “What brings you into town?”

  Travis stood slowly, looking irritatingly at ease. “Wanted to show Sam the latest results from the geological findings for the deep-water drilling prospects.”

  “On a Sunday night?” Wes asked, shutting the door behind him.

  Travis just shrugged, though the true reason he was at Sam’s place was obvious to both of them.

  Wes glanced at her askance, suddenly noticing the bruise on her face and the swollen jawline. “Baby—what the hell happened?” he asked, holding her face gently. He’d seen her banged up before from training, but it never got easier. His protective instincts came roaring to life.

  “It’s nothing.” Sam kissed his hand before pulling back. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “You didn’t know Sam was getting ready for SEAL training this weekend?” Travis asked, as he shot him a censorious look. “If my girl was getting into it with guys twice her size straight out of the special forces, you could be damn sure I’d know about it.”

  Shame blended with a healthy dose of insolence made Wes brazen. “You clearly don’t know my girl very well if you don’t think she can handle herself in damn near any situation,” he replied. “Sammy is just about the last girl on earth who needs anyone to defend her—least of all, you or me.”

  “Wes, it’s fine,” Sam told him in a let’s not do this now tone. “Travis and I just finished eating, but I’m sure I’ve got something in the fridge if you’re hungry,” she offered.

  “No,” Wes shook his head, still watching Travis. “I got off work early to come see you.”

  “Well, that’s my cue to go,” Travis responded, moving to tidy up the table.

  “I’ll clean up—don’t worry about it,” Sam said, moving forward to stop him. She picked up a bound report off the tabletop and handed it back to Travis with a smile. “You should lose to me more often,” she teased. “I’m all for the loser buying dinner—especially if it’s a Reuben.”