by Lexi Ryan
Josie looked to Mallory, who hadn’t said a word but was staring at the man with big eyes.
The doors at the front of the room swung open again and a handsome young man appeared.
He approached Josie and leaned over her stomach, putting a hand flat against her belly and sighing. “I’ve taken to collecting talents, but the ability to detect human life this new, that has to be my favorite.”
He stood and smiled at her, then cocked his head. “Oh, perhaps you don’t know me as anything but Lieutenant Armstrong,” he said, shifting to that form.
Josie refused to close her eyes, refused to give in to the self pity bubbling inside her. She had another life to protect. She had millions of lives to protect. She would find a way to stop this.
He shifted back into his handsome young form and turned to Mallory.
When he leaned over her stomach, Josie felt the first of her bonds release.
“What’s this?” the Keeper said, leaning closer and pressing his hand against Mallory’s stomach. “But I’d been assured.”
The rest of Josie’s bonds released.
Tanner is here. Not only was it the most logical explanation, she felt it in her bones.
“You’re not pregnant,” the man said to Mallory, but Mallory suddenly shifted into a much larger, stronger man who busted through the bonds and dove for the Keeper.
The Keeper sprinted to the doors, but they were slammed shut before he could get there.
Josie slid off her table, and while the Hulk Shifter struggled to contain the Keeper and an invisible Tanner fought off his guard, she examined the machine.
Commotion sounded in the hallway and Josie hoped like hell she didn’t have to worry about someone else coming through those doors.
She smiled. Two switches. Simple enough.
She cast a glance over her shoulder. The guard was out cold on the floor. “Bring the Keeper over here and strap him down,” she said.
“I’m going to rule the whole world,” he screamed. “How can you betray your own people like this? You can’t do this to me.”
“Apparently, we can,” Josie said, taking the biggest needle from the machine and sticking it right in his jugular before flipping the switch to suck him dry.
Chapter Nineteen
Their friends met them out in the hallway, and judging from the numbers of passed-out bodies Josie saw as they left the mansion, they’d done their fair share of ass-kicking.
When they reached the front steps, their Hulk helper shifted into a very pale-faced, wide-eyed Tara.
Paige stopped in her tracks when she saw her.
Tara shook her head. “Please, don’t start.”
Paige pulled her sister to her chest and stroked her hair. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
“Does this mean you’re going to let me be a Stiletto Girl?” Tara said.
Chrissie laughed and Josie said, “I think she earned it.”
Paige sighed. “Fine, but can we ease your big sister into it by starting with some smaller cases?”
“That depends.” Tara craned her head, looking at Paige’s feet. “Black combat boots?”
“What about them?”
Tara shrugged. “I want to be a Stiletto Girl, but I’m not real big on the dress code. Those, however, I’d be cool with.”
Paige nuzzled her sister’s hair. “Deal.”
Josie looked to Tara. “Where’s the real Mallory?”
“Safe,” Tara said. “Dr. Martin helped us and he’s taking care of her.”
“Her boyfriend’s pretty worried about her,” Tanner said. “Could you let her know she needs to give him a call?”
They walked out to the parking lot where Collin and Rider waited by their cars.
“They helped, too,” Tanner whispered to Josie, gesturing to the twins. “We’re a pretty decent team when we all work together.”
Josie nodded, but grief pulled at her. They’d won today, and for that she was grateful. But she was also ready to go home and grieve privately for the life and future she’d lost when she’d learned her emotions weren’t her own. “Of course we are,” she managed.
“I want to get you out of here. Share a back seat with me?” Tanner asked, opening the door to a black sedan.
Josie nodded and climbed in, but she stayed to her side and didn’t offer her hand, though she knew he wanted to touch her.
Fernandez climbed into the driver’s seat, and they were on the highway before Tanner spoke.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She closed her eyes. She wished she could have the life she’d had so many visions of. “Everything I feel about you, everything I want to be and have with you, has been programmed into me.”
Tanner turned to look out his window where the dawn was spreading its fingers across the horizon. “You really think that’s all this is between us? It’s just you and me carrying out some actions you’ve been programmed to want to do?”
“Tanner?” Her voice was soft. “I saw this—us. I saw our happiness as we make a family. And part of me wants it so badly that I’d take it, even if it is artificial.”
“What you feel—”
“What I feel is unreliable and that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
He shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re Miss Free Will. You’re the one who believes nothing is fated, nothing is set in stone. This is no different. The dreams? Maybe those were planted in you. The attraction? Same thing. But this—” He fisted a hand over her heart. “Not your surface emotions, but this. Deep down where you can’t deny it. What do you feel?”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel, Tanner. It’s not really me.”
He took her hands and held them so her wrists were against his chest. “What do you feel? Right now. Do you love me?”
Her eyes filled. “Why are you making me do this?” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Don’t make me do this. It’s not fair.”
“Tell me. Do you love me?”
“Right now, I love you, Tanner. I love you so much, I ache with it. I love you and I want you and can’t imagine spending my life without you.”
He let out a sharp breath and closed his eyes. “Jesus, I was hoping you’d say that.”
She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to hurt him more—but then he was turning up her wrist and—
She pushed closer to the door to get a better look at it in the light. There was no scar. Nothing.
“It’s gone.”
“The Controller died tonight,” Tanner said softly. “She told me you wouldn’t love me anymore once the mark had faded. I don’t think she considered that you might actually have fallen in love with me on your own.”
Josie met his eyes. “I do love you. I do.” She smiled. “And that feeling is all my own.”
Epilogue
If Josie Bovard ever decided to retire her stilettos and leave professional ass-kicking behind, she had a promising future as a wedding planner. Not that this had been much of a challenge.
Perfect couple, perfect wedding, perfect evening.
The full moon reflected in the waves whose melody mingled with the chatter of wedding guests and the lilting melody of the band. As far as anyone knew, Paige’s and Darian’s was the first wedding on the island, but judging from the enchanted looks on the guests’ faces, it wouldn’t be the last.
Everything seemed to have fallen into its natural place.
At the bar, Chrissie was pretending to be annoyed with Fernandez. Mallory and Quinton were glued together on the dance floor. Even Tara was blushing at some attention from some young, new SIA recruits.
“Everything is beautiful,” someone said behind her.
Josie turned to see Tanner smiling down at her. A little sigh escaped her lips. Perfect guy. “I think so, too.” She leaned into him and turned to watch the waves dance in the moonlight.
“I suppose it helps that the wedding planner can see the future.” He lifted his gaze to the sky. �
��Not a single cloud in sight.”
“It’s never a sure thing, but I did the best I could.”
“Never a sure thing,” he agreed. “That’s part of the fun.”
“If a butterfly flaps its wings,” she murmured.
But in the light of the full moon and goaded on by the lulling melody of the waves, she suddenly felt very ready for some time in their private suite.
“Do you want to dance?”
He slipped his hand into hers before she could reply.
The dance floor was fifty yards away, but it seemed right that they should find their own rhythm here, on a semi-secluded piece of beach.
She sighed as he pulled her against him. Images flooded her. His mouth descending to hers, his solid body hot and bare above hers. As often as she’d cursed her gift, she had a new perspective on it now. These images were her own, and that was reason enough to respect them.
“I don’t know if you noticed,” he said softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since we met.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she said, smiling up at him.
He took her hand and turned her in a circle.
“Aren’t you charming?”
He pulled her back against his chest and smiled down at her. “And now you’re having my baby.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“I suppose you know what I’m going to ask next?”
“I can see the future,” she murmured, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to experience it firsthand.”
“Josie Bovard,” he said, running a finger along her jaw line, “I would be honored if you would marry me, love me, and make me all kinds of babies.”
Joy expanded in her chest. “Yes, Tanner, I would love to be the woman who gives you the family you’ve always deserved.”
THE END
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Excerpt from Accidental Sex Goddess
Coming January 2013…
Chapter One
“Do you consider yourself a Sex Goddess?”
Reese Regan pulled her hand from the grip of one of the most influential women in Chicago and said, “Excuse me?”
Halie McCormack tucked a lock of platinum hair behind her ear. “Do you consider yourself a Sex Goddess?”
Was that a trick question?
Reese chewed on her lip. Was there a right way to answer that question when it was asked by the president and founder of Sex Goddess, Inc.? “I—I don’t know.”
Halie smirked. “Try it on for size.”
“What?”
She tapped the brochure in Reese’s hand. “The first step of my program is the only step that is the same for everyone. Say it out loud.”
Reese squirmed. Do I have to? Probably, if she didn’t want to alienate the woman who held in her manicured hands the success of the WJRK Charity Masquerade Ball.
“I am a Sex Goddess,” Reese said. Wouldn’t it being nice if saying something like that made it true? I am a Sex Goddess or I am a size six. Or, heck, how about I am a size six Sex Goddess heiress with an inheritance the size of Texas.
“Say it like you mean it,” Halie said. “Saying it doesn’t help if you don’t believe it. Try again.”
Halie’s office grew twenty degrees warmer. Heat crept into Reese’s cheeks, and a drop of perspiration trickled down her leg. Oh yeah, she was feeling super sexy.
The programs at Sex Goddess, Inc. were the latest “It Girl” trend in the Chicago area, and it was Reese’s job to get the company involved in WJRK’s next big event—even if it meant doing a pole dance in the middle of a business meeting.
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting—” She wasn’t expecting this business meeting to become Sex Goddess Bootcamp.
Halie grinned. “It makes you uncomfortable to say it out loud, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, no.” Why would it make her uncomfortable? It was only completely awkward. “You just surprised me. I mean, I’m here professionally, and it didn’t seem very professional to—” She stopped at Halie’s eyebrow raise. “Yes,” she admitted with a sigh, “it made me uncomfortable. Sorry.”
Halie shook her head as she walked behind her desk. At nearly six feet tall—five foot nine of which was leg—she moved with the grace of a dancer as she lowered herself into her chair. “Do you realize you’ve apologized twice in the last sixty seconds?”
“I’m sor—” Crap on a cracker.
Halie chuckled. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s my job to point that out. Most women have had their inner Sex Goddesses drowned by society and the pressure of being everything to everyone.”
Reese nodded. Probably better that than explain she’d never had an inner Sex Goddess to drown. If she had, it had been a suicide drowning. The note left behind probably read, “Too inconsequential to go on...”
“Tell me about your goals, Reese,” Halie said.
Reese forced a smile and took a seat. She was going to be here awhile. This was supposed to be easy—have a quick chat and iron out an agreement between Sex Goddess, Inc. and the radio station. But no. Back to square one.
“Each year WJRK holds a charity masquerade ball on New Year’s Eve. This year, we’re raising money to support the woman’s shelter, Almost Home, hoping to raise enough to build a much-needed addition. Sex Goddess, Inc.’s sponsorship of the event would go a long way to help us get there.”
Halie nodded. “Very noble, but what about a personal goal?”
Reese stared at the woman—a model-gorgeous trust-fund baby with a Bentley and boyfriend who played for the Chicago Bears. Had she ever had to set a personal goal in her whole life?
“Something totally unrelated to your work. A goal that Reese wants for Reese.”
Halie had done this during an interview with Oprah Winfrey. Question after probing question until Oprah had fat crocodile tears streaming down her face. “But who is Oprah Winfrey?”
Reese needed a personal goal. Fast. “I’d like to lose fifteen pounds,” she said, and—remembering Halie’s earlier comment—she tried to sound like she meant it.
Halie frowned and rubbed the back of her neck. “This is the problem with our society. Women think their self worth lies in the size of their jeans or some arbitrary number on the scale.”
“You’re right.” Reese should have seen this coming. After all, she had the inside track on the Sex Goddess, Inc. founder. Halie wasn’t going to let her out of the office until she embraced her oversized rear and declared size fourteen was the new six. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Wow, your sister was right.”
Maybe inside tracks weren’t all they were chalked up to be. “My sister?”
“I’m going to be honest with you,” Halie said. “You know Tricia’s a good friend of mine, and we talk about you sometimes. I want to help.”
“You can help me—by sponsoring this auction.”
Halie propped her chin on her fist. “When was the last time you had sex, Reese?”
Wow. She straightened. The words begging to fly off her tongue weren’t just colorful, they were DayGlo. “I’d rather not discuss this.”
“I’d rather not ignore it,” Halie said. “I’m not prying, Reese. I’m helping.”
Right. “I apologize that my sister bothered you with details from my personal life,” she said, searching the conversation for the nearest exit.
“There you go with the apologies again. Do you ever wonder why you do that?”
Reese pushed forward. “I’m really counting on your support for the masquerade ball. What can we do to give Sex Goddess, Inc. the recognition it deserves during the event?”
Halie dropped her hands to the desk and clicked her nails. “Listen, I’ll sponsor your event.”
The relief that pumped over Reese was better than sex.
“But I didn’t get into this business
for the money.”
Better than sex but just as short-lived.
“I want to help people, and after talking to your sister, I want to help you.” Halie pushed out of her chair. “I don’t push my program on anyone, but I’d like you to consider it.”
Not a chance, lady. But she said, “Sure.”
Halie offered her hand.
Reese stood and took it. “Thank you very much, Halie. This is such a good cause.”
“Think about the program. Think about what Reese needs.”
“Of course. I’ll think about it.” The lie was so monumental, she was surprised God didn’t strike her dead.
“What is there to think about?”
My self-respect? My pride? She smiled. “This is just unexpected. May I call you Monday morning?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Grabbing for her purse, Reese moved toward the door as fast as she could without running.
“Reese?” Halie’s voice stopped her.
She turned slowly. “Yes?”
Halie handed her an envelope. “The first step is in there, followed by instructions of how to get the next.”
Eat a bucket of snails, run the miracle mile in nothing but body glitter, hang from her toenails over a pit of poisonous vipers—the beginning of a very long list of activities she’d find more enjoyable than completing Sex Goddess 101.
“It’s your choice,” Halie said, “but imagine how different your life would be if you believed you were worthy of all you desire.”
With a sharp nod, Reese shoved the envelope in her purse and hurried out of the office and toward her car. The only rusted nineties-model sedan in the lot, it was easy to spot.
“Oh. My. God,” she muttered, collapsing into the driver’s seat. She yanked her cell phone from her purse and pressed the speed dial for her best friend.
“Reese! How’d the meeting go?” Mason asked. Her normal perky voice cracked into the exterior of Reese’s foul mood, but not enough to change her general sentiment.