Operation Notorious

by Justine Davis

  Not to mention Laurel. Her best friend of nearly twenty years, and she had not only had an affair with her father, but had also lied about something as major as that. She found the latter much more upsetting, and that it was a lie of omission didn’t ameliorate it at all. Gavin was right about that. And yes, she hated the results of lying. Rafe Crawford had been right about that.

  Now it was over. And it was time to extract herself and try to put her life back together. What there was left of it.

  She stopped pacing and turned to face Gavin. Slowly, he stood up. “Katie,” he began, but she shook her head.

  “Thank you, Gavin,” she said formally. “For...everything.” She saw something flicker in his eyes and kept going. “I mean not just clearing my father, but everything. You taught me about things I never knew existed.”

  “Katie, stop. I—”

  “I understand. You were never going to stay. I don’t regret it, any of it.”

  “What are you—”

  She put up a hand to stop him. “I get it now,” she said. It came out tight, with a quaver. “I understand completely why you want nothing to do with liars. And I... I seem to attract them.” She didn’t care that a note of bitterness had entered her voice. But this was for his sake, so she said it. “Goodbye, Gavin.”

  She headed for the door. She’d meant to just walk, but halfway there she broke into a run, afraid if she was in the same room with him one more second she would break down.

  He didn’t say a thing, and the door swung closed behind her.

  Chapter 37

  Gavin stared after her, feeling unable to either speak or move. He who had the reputation for always knowing what to do next, couldn’t think of a thing to say or do now. All he knew was that this felt wrong, completely wrong, more wrong than anything in his life.

  He’d barely acknowledged that when Cutter exploded into action. Letting out a howl the dog raced for the door, hitting the open button with a furious swipe of his paw. The moment he could squeeze through he was gone, still howling, in a way that spoke of lonely wolves in the distance. Gavin had never heard anything like it, and it raised the hair on the back of his neck.

  Galvanized by the sound, he ran to the door, just in time to see Katie pause at her car, keys in hand, and look back at Cutter. Something slammed into his chest when he saw the tears streaming down her face. Not Katie, who was so strong, so tough, who had handled all this with a strength that had amazed him. She wouldn’t break. Not his Katie...

  And then Cutter was back, nudging at him, then flat-out pushing him toward her. When he looked at Katie again, she was looking at him. And there was no mistaking what he saw in her face. Not just sadness, not just longing, but...love. It was there, written large, and in that instant he knew.

  If he let this woman go, it would be the biggest mistake of his life.

  “Katie,” he whispered, even knowing she couldn’t possibly hear him.

  He didn’t need Cutter’s urging. He simply ran, caught her up in his arms, the words that wouldn’t come before coming in a rush now. He doubted if they made any sense at all, yet somehow she understood.

  “You can’t go. Don’t. Please. Stay. He doesn’t matter. Their lies don’t matter.”

  “Gavin,” she began to protest, but he shook his head. He felt like he was about to cry himself, and tried to put some sensible words together.

  “You’ve given me back everything, Katie. I went too far down that path. Lost my trust, my faith in people, my willingness to believe anyone who hadn’t already proven themselves to me. But you’ve changed that. No more guilty until proven innocent.”

  “But you were right. Because I’m obviously surrounded by liars. And you don’t want that around you, so this is for your sake.”

  He drew back, stared at her. His sake? “But what I did...suspecting your father...”

  She gave a sad smile. “It’s what lawyers do, isn’t it? You cover anything that could go wrong by thinking everything could go wrong?”

  “So it wasn’t...unforgivable?”

  Her expression changed, and he knew somehow she was thinking of what he’d said to her father. Only something unforgivable could ever change her love. With a sigh she said, “That’s probably the most forgivable thing that’s happened.”

  He hated that she sounded so beaten. “No. Don’t let my mistrust infect you. They made mistakes, big ones, but... Please, Katie, don’t lose that thing that makes you you, that sweetness, the kindness, the honesty. It’s what makes you so strong.”

  She was staring at him, and he had the feeling she was holding her breath. Waiting. If she’d been willing to leave for his sake, he had to say this for hers.

  “It’s what I love,” he said hoarsely.

  Her eyes widened.

  “I love you, Katie. I know it’s too fast and too crazy, but—”

  He stopped when she lifted a finger to his lips. Just the touch sent fire racing along every nerve.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, and his heart jammed up into his throat. “No matter how fast or crazy. But what I said is still true. I have liars all around me.”

  He swallowed tightly. “But you’re not one of them. And that’s all that really matters. And I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away, after what I thought, but don’t. Please don’t.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes. Are you sure you want to take on that lifelong challenge?”

  He saw her remember her own words, and a slow smile curved her lips. Those lips that drove him mad. “I think I’m up to it,” she whispered. “In fact, I think I’ll start right now.”

  * * *

  It was much later, long after Quinn and Hayley had discreetly departed—Cutter with them, after a last, happy woof that seemed to indicate he knew his job was done—that Gavin broke a long, slow kiss and broached the subject he’d been pondering.

  “You’ve had a rough time here the last few months.”

  Katie nodded, then smiled up at him from where she lay beneath him on the couch. “But things are definitely looking up.”

  He smiled back. “But maybe a change of scenery for a while might be good.”

  “I kind of like the scenery here.”

  She ran a finger down his chest. He put a hand over hers, knowing if she continued he was going to forget everything he wanted to say.

  “I need to go back to St. Louis, for a while at least. There are logistics I have to figure out.”

  She went still. “What are you saying?”

  “Come with me,” he said. “Away from all the reminders, where you can think more clearly. Just for a while. While we decide what happens next.”

  “Next?”

  “You love your work here,” he said, “and you’re damned good at it. And I can work anywhere. It’s easier from St. Louis because it’s in the middle of everywhere, but I don’t have to be there.”

  “You’d move? Here?”

  “I like it here.” He wasn’t sure if it was the place, or just her, and in the end it didn’t matter. “I would, if that’s what works best. For us.”

  She kissed him, hot and fierce. “I love you, Gavin de Marco.”

  He kissed her back. This time they ended up on the floor before the fire, and it was more explosive than ever. He thought he might have shouted her name when they hit the peak. And it took him a long time to work up the energy to speak again.

  “Fair warning. If you come with me, you’ll have to meet Charlie.”

  “That sounds like you’re going to introduce me to royalty.”

  He laughed. “That’s more fitting than you know.”

  “I’ll practice my curtsy.”

  He laughed again, thinking he was almost getting used to doing it. “Does that mean yes?”
>
  “I’d go anywhere with you.”

  He raised up on one elbow and looked down at her, smiling.

  “Welcome to Foxworth,” he said.

  * * * * *

  And don’t miss Justine Davis’s next thrilling romance, coming in October 2018 as a part of

  THE COLTONS OF RED RIDGE continuity!

  And catch up with everyone at the Foxworth

  Foundation with previous books in the

  CUTTER’S CODE miniseries:

  OPERATION ALPHA

  OPERATION SOLDIER NEXT DOOR

  OPERATION HOMECOMING

  OPERATION POWER PLAY

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  Black Ops Warrior

  by Amelia Autin

  Prologue

  Niall Jones’s life depended on him blending into the background wherever he was. Moving through the shadows as if he was a shadow himself. And no one was better at it. Others came close, but he was the best. He’d lost track of how many disguises he’d donned. How many aliases he’d used. How many lives he’d led. When he assumed a role, he became the role. Until the next time.

  Which was exactly what he was doing now. He watched his target through seemingly sleepy eyes, but he knew every breath she drew. Every rise and fall of slight breasts that wouldn’t normally attract his attention. Her face, too, was unremarkable. Not unattractive, but not the kind of face that would automatically draw a second or a third glance.

  And yet...there was something about her mouth. Something that piqued his interest and held his gaze. Sweetly curving lips that smiled more often than not, but also hinted at restrained passion. Lips that made him wonder what they’d taste like, feel like beneath his, if he kissed her.

  Not that he had any intention of kissing her...unless it was necessary. Dr. Savannah Whitman was his target, and he couldn’t lose sight of that fact. She might look sweet, innocent and far younger than the thirty-six years he knew her to be—that delicate skin of hers, the lack of makeup and the way she wore her hair might have something to do with it—but she could very well be a cold, calculating traitor. And if there was one thing Niall hated, it was traitors, people who would sell out their country for any reason.

  He knew more about her than most of her friends. He knew the relevant details about her life, from the day she was born until now.

  He knew exactly how much money she had in the bank, that she hadn’t attended her high school senior prom, that she had three patents to her name with a fourth pending. He knew the phobia she’d struggled against for most of her life, and when and why it had first afflicted her. And he knew she’d resigned her top secret job with an international defense contractor the day after her parents’ funeral.

  What he didn’t know was what made her tick. What was going on in her head. Why she’d resigned and what she intended to do now with the highly classified data stored in the memory banks of her mind. Data the US government would love to erase...but couldn’t. And most important, if she really was a security risk as the government feared.

  Which was why he was here, shadowing her footsteps as she took this fifteen-day land tour and river cruise through northern China. Which was why he might very well be called upon to romance her, as a way to get close enough to compile evidence that would stand up in court to convict her of espionage. Which was why...as a last resort...he just might have to kill her.

  Uno

  Savannah Whitman stood on the ramparts of the Great Wall of China, staring up at the sea of humanity ascending and descending the steep incline to the top of this section of the wall in the Badaling Hills north of Beijing. It was a work day, so she couldn’t understand why so many people were here. This was not the way she’d envisioned it would be when she’d spent thousands of dollars on this guided tour. She’d picked this specific tour in large part because the pictures in the brochure made it appear as if she’d be mostly on her own as she crossed several items off her bucket list of things she just had to see once in her lifetime—the Great Wall and the Forbidden City in Beijing, the terracotta warriors in Xi’an. And the Yangtze, of course, the longest river in the world that began and ended in the same country.

  She sighed softly as she was jostled by those eager to pass her and begin the climb to the top of this well-preserved section of the fabled wall. She wanted to go up there, too. She did. But...

  Coward, she jeered at herself. Coward, because she didn’t deal well with crowds. She’d thought she’d be practically alone on the Great Wall, with only thoughts of her parents to keep her company, but now her breath came in little panicked spurts as she tried to fight back her enochlophobia. You spent good money to see the Great Wall, she reminded herself. You can do this. You can! Just take a deep breath. Lots of deep breaths. Then put one foot in front of the other and climb up there, damn it!

  But the unreasoning fear had such a hold on her she couldn’t move. Not even to escape by struggling through the crowd to the gondolas that had brought her and the rest of her tour group this far.

  Then from above her head she heard a warm, deep voice speaking English. “Just breathe,” the man said gently as he herded her away from the crowd and against the stone railing. “Breathe deeply.”

  When he said that, she realized somehow she was no longer being pushed, bumped or elbowed. Her rescuer had used his body to create a tiny space for her in the crowd, and she closed her eyes in thankfulness. Yes, her back was pressed against an ungiving stone wall that had been built millennia ago, but at least she wasn’t hemmed in by people. And the man wasn’t squashed up against her, either—some distance separated them, as if he knew she couldn’t bear to be touched at this moment.

  She opened her eyes and stared at a broad chest wearing a light, khaki-colored jacket. And on the jacket she spotted a familiar badge, exactly like the one she was wearing but with his name on it instead of hers—he was one of her tour group. “Oh, thank God.”

  He must have heard her fervent whisper because a laugh rumbled out of him. But she knew instinctively he wasn’t laughing at her. At least, he wasn’t laughing at her fear. He was laughing because she’d amused him somehow.

  Her eyes focused on the name written on his badge. Niall Johnson. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” she managed, now that she could breathe again. Then her gaze moved up. And up. And up. Until she reached his face and she blinked. Holy cow! she
thought. How was it she hadn’t noticed him before? Because beneath the shaggy light brown hair was a face that was indubitably memorable, with nearly classical features. And his eyes... His eyes were such a deep, dark brown she could almost see herself reflected in their depths.

  “Niall,” he said now. “Just call me Niall. And you’re...” He peered down at her nametag. “Savannah Whitman. May I call you Savannah?”

  “Oh yes. Please do.” Then her tongue tied itself into knots and she couldn’t think of a single thing to add. Which was nothing new where the opposite sex was concerned.

  In all modesty, Savannah knew she was a brilliant engineer. Top in her field of missile guidance, navigation and control, with three patents before she’d reached the midpoint of her thirties. She could talk for hours without notes when it came to such esoteric subjects as time to go, field of view and line of sight. She could teach classes on those subjects, too, and had. She could write complex algorithms that maybe a thousand people in the world could easily decipher. She’d been so valuable to the US government and her previous employer they’d practically begged her not to resign, even playing the “you owe a duty to your country” card.

  But when it came to men in a social situation—especially handsome men like Niall Johnson—words escaped her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her hands shook. And she felt as if she were standing there naked. Defenseless.

  But then something remarkable happened. Niall smiled down at her. And his eyes held such understanding Savannah knew she had nothing to fear where he was concerned. His eyes lingered on her mouth and she knew he was attracted to her. Maybe not as attracted to her as she was to him—he was an assault on her senses, so tall and solidly male he practically oozed testosterone—but apparently he felt she could hold her own with him. Unusual and refreshing. So refreshing she believed it for some reason she couldn’t fathom.