by Low, Gennita
SEALed with a Kiss
The Only ALL SEAL Anthology
Eight NYT, USA Today and National Bestelling Authors
Code of Silence
Copyright © 2014 Marliss Melton
Holding On
Copyright © 2011 Stephanie Tyler
Mutiny’s Bounty
Copyright © 2014 Delilah Devlin
Warrior
Copyright © 2014 Gennita Low
Seal’s Desire
Copyright © 2014 Elle James
Breaking Free
Copyright © 2011 Teresa J. Reasor
SEAL’s Lost Dream
Copyright © 2014 J.M. Madden
SEAL My Destiny
Copyright © 2014 Sharon Hamilton
EPUB Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Box Set Contents
Code of Silence
Marliss Melton
Holding On
Stephanie Tyler
Mutiny’s Bounty
Delilah Devlin
Warrior
Gennita Low
Seal’s Desire
Elle James
Breaking Free
Teresa J. Reasor
SEAL’s Lost Dream
J.M. Madden
SEAL My Destiny
Sharon Hamilton
Code of Silence
A Novella based on characters from NEXT TO DIE
Marliss Melton
This novella is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Feb 2014 by Marliss Melton
EPUB Edition
©James-York Press, P. O. Box 141, Williamsburg, VA23187
All Rights Reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including scanning, xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information or retrieval system, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. For information, write to James-York Press, P. O. Box 141, Williamsburg, VA 23187. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact James-York Press, P. O. Box 141, Williamsburg, VA 23187 or write to [email protected]
Published by James-York Press
Feb 2014/eBook
March 2014/paperback
Edited by Wendie Grogan and Sydney Baily-Gould
Book Cover Designed by: ©Pistoliqued—Dar Albert
Interior Pages Illustrated by: James-York Press
Interior Design by: BB ebooks
Ebook
ISBN-10: 193873212X (eBook)
ISBN-13: 978-1-938732-12-6 (eBook)
Rave Reviews for
MARLISS MELTON
THE ENFORCER
“If a reader is looking for grass-roots realism, that’s what they’ll find in this well-written tale, steeped in the hardships of those who have experienced the horrors of war. THE ENFORCER is in a league of its own.”
—InD’tale Magazine
THE GUARDIAN
“Well, Marliss Melton does it again. Packs a book full of action, suspense, mystery and romance.”
—Lorelei’s Lit Lair
THE PROTECTOR
“…the kind of intrigue I enjoy, much like Tom Clancy, Vince Flynn, David Baldacci, and Steig Larsen. In my opinion they have nothing on her.”
—Lt. Col. John Lund, U.S. Air Force, ret.
SHOW NO FEAR
“If you enjoy good suspense, lots of action, plenty of plot twists and realistic romance, then Marliss Melton’s Show No Fear is for you.”
—Novel Reviews, Book Reviews
TOO FAR GONE
“Likeable and honorable characters who elicit sympathy and/or empathy…”
—RomRevToday.com
DON’T LET GO
“4 Stars! Another winner in a top-notch series! …”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine
NEXT TO DIE
“Melton brings her considerable knowledge about the military and intelligence world to this Navy SEAL series.”
—Freshfiction.com
TIME TO RUN
“Melton…doesn’t miss a beat in this involving story.”
—Publishers Weekly
IN THE DARK
“Hooked me from the first page…”
—Lisa Jackson, NYT Bestselling Author
FORGET ME NOT
“A wonderful book, touching all the right heartstrings. I highly recommend it!”
—Heather Graham, NYT Bestselling Author
Novels by
MARLISS MELTON
THE TASKFORCE SERIES
THE PROTECTOR (Aug 2011)
THE GUARDIAN (Feb 2013)
THE ENFORCER (Sept 2013)
TEAM TWELVE NAVY SEALs SERIES
FORGET ME NOT (Dec 2004)
IN THE DARK (June 2005)
TIME TO RUN (Feb 2006)
NEXT TO DIE (August 2007)
DON’T LET GO (April 2008)
TOO FAR GONE (Nov 2008)
SHOW NO FEAR (Sept 2009)
LONG GONE, A Novella (Nov 2012)
CODE OF SILENCE, A Novella (Feb 2014)
Chapter One
‡
Ophelia Price stared in disbelief at the plus sign on the plastic pregnancy test strip. Oh, my God. She could not have been more astounded if the bathroom ceiling suddenly collapsed on top of her head. She’d taken this same test twice before in the past ten years, and they’d both shown up negative. That plus sign was not supposed to be there, not when she’d taken the pill more or less regularly for over a decade and her periods had come like clockwork, at least until this month. With her period three weeks late, she’d decided to take the test, but only as a precautionary measure, never dreaming that the results would be what they were.
It had to be a mistake. Only it said right there on the box: 98% accurate. And she had been feeling a teeny bit sick every morning for the past two weeks.
I’m pregnant.
Her heart beat a tattoo of denial. An icy numbness filled her heart. The timing could not be worse. In the past five years, her job in journalism had taken off, elevating her to the position of lead investigative reporter. WTKR had stolen her away from WAVY television by offering her an obscene salary to go after every dirty cop, corporation, or politician she could find. For a girl who’d once wasted her degree in journalism by waitressing at Hooters, she’d sure come a long way. And she owed a lot of her success—most of it, in fact—to her new husband, Vinny, and his faith in her. Now she made the big bucks exposing fraud and corruption, and she loved what she did for a living.
I can’t have a baby.
It would ruin everything. The fabulous run on her career would come to a screeching halt the moment she shared her news with anyone. Vinny, she had no doubt, would use her pregnancy as a reason for her to spend more time at home. And then there was her boss who would pull her off the set the minute she started showing—pregnant news reporters weren’t sexy. Maternity leave would
be the final nail in her coffin. She’d be relegated to small-time reporting—no more national scandals or multi-corporate shakedowns. And then who would she be? Just a mother, a job she was totally unfit for.
The light knock on the door startled the tester out of Ophelia’s hand. It clattered to the tiled floor, skidding toward the toilet.
“You okay in there, cara mia?” Vinny asked with concern in his deep voice.
Locks had never been a deterrent to her husband. Snatching up the evidence lest he catch sight of it, Ophelia offered up a lie. “Just doing my makeup, hon. I’ll be out in a sec.”
She and Vinny had eloped while on vacation in Bermuda the previous spring. The spur-of-the-moment ceremony performed under a moon gate was just one more reason why his mother had come to resent her. It had taken Ophelia five years to marry her son, and then she’d gone and done it without his mother there to bear witness.
At times Ophelia regretted not having shared that special moment the way they should have, with Vinny’s family and his fellow Navy SEALs present, along with her older sister Penny. But it had felt so right, so romantic, pledging her future to Vinny under the round stone arch overlooking the tourmaline sea. Besides, who had time to plan an elaborate wedding?
Vinny was her soul mate. She’d belonged to him even before she’d been ready to admit it. He knew her better than anyone. He also knew she was lying right then because she always put on her makeup in the car. He had to be rolling his eyes at her lame attempt to deceive him.
“Listen,” he said, making her hold her breath, “how about we go to Mama’s for Thanksgiving instead of her coming down this year? She says her washing machine doesn’t work, and she needs me to fix it. Plus, I’m worried about her health.”
He wanted to go to Philly for Thanksgiving? A spurt of excitement replaced her shock and self-doubt. Wait, could Vinny have guessed her plans to interview the lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania next month? No way. He wouldn’t want them going anywhere near Philly if he had an inkling of what she intended.
“Ah, sure,” she said, swinging a thoughtful look at her reflection in the mirror. “That sounds okay.” She wasn’t going to tell him either, or he’d change his mind about visiting his mother.
“Did you just say okay?” he responded, sounding incredulous. “I said, we need to go to Mama’s for Thanksgiving,” he repeated, enunciating each word.
“Yeah, why not?” Ophelia took one last look at the tester before stuffing it inside the tampon box under the sink.
A subtle click of the lock had her slamming the cabinet shut and straightening guiltily as the door swung slowly open. There stood Vinny peering around the door, his chocolate brown eyes locking on her guilty expression.
“I’ve told you not to do that!” Ophelia scolded. “A woman needs her privacy.”
“I could tell you weren’t on the toilet. What’s going on?” he demanded.
She rolled her eyes. “Why do you think something’s going on?”
He just looked at her in that intent, all-seeing way of his that made her toes curl inside of her high heeled shoes. “You just agreed to Thanksgiving at my mother’s,” he pointed out.
She strove for an innocent look. “Yes, I did.”
Vinny’s eyes narrowed, conveying utter skepticism. Ophelia never could resist those eyes. Rimmed with lush lashes, they sloped just enough that, combined with his hooked nose, they made him resemble a young Al Pacino. “Then you’ve forgiven her for her remark about your skinny hips?”
Ophelia forced a negligent shrug even though the reminder reawakened her resentment. “What’s to forgive? She was upset that she’d missed our wedding. It’s only natural that she would lash out about it. Any mother would be upset about missing her only son’s wedding.”
“True.” Vinny nodded, his gaze still watchful. “But she said some pretty hurtful things,” he acknowledged.
Rose’s exact words had been that it was time she quit her job, put some meat on her skinny hips, and start being the wife that Vinny deserved. “She wants grandbabies,” Ophelia reminded him with just a stitch of resentment left. “Who can blame her?” Guilt pinched her anew as she considered that she could now make Rose’s dreams come true. But she had no intention of sharing that happy news—not yet, anyway.
Vinny’s gentle smile did nothing to ease her conscience as he waded deeper into the bathroom, his arms outstretched. “Yeah, maybe we can work on that before you go to work this morning,” he suggested in a husky voice, pulling her into his embrace. The musky sweat that clung to his T-shirt from his morning run prompted Ophelia to squirm free.
“You’re going to soil my work clothes,” she protested.
“Just a kiss then,” he pleaded, catching her jaw in his hand and turning her head toward his. One touch of his warm, supple lips and Ophelia forgot about escaping.
Goosebumps played tag along her skin as his clever tongue coaxed her lips to part so he could offer her a glimpse of what she’d be missing. By the time he lifted his head, the floor seemed to be tilting and she was seriously considering getting undressed to join him in the shower. She grabbed his wrist to read his watch. “Oh, shoot, I’m late.”
“You’re always late,” he pointed out. “What’s another half hour?”
“No, seriously, I have to go. My new boss is making us sign in.”
“The prick,” Vinny exclaimed.
“Tell me about it.” On the verge of slipping under his arm and out of the room, Ophelia pressed a heartfelt kiss on Vinny’s cheek. “I love you,” she told him, surprised to feel tears sting her eyes.
His dark eyebrows quirked. “I love you, too,” he said.
She fled before he could question her. Vinny knew her like nobody else did, even better than her sister. If he guessed her circumstances, if he knew that their child was growing in her womb, he would move heaven and earth to get her to quit her job and stay at home, where their baby would be safe.
Over my dead body, Ophelia thought, exiting the bathroom swiftly and collecting her purse and jacket from the hall closet. Being the lead investigative reporter was the one thing she did well. It gave her the self-respect she desperately craved. Before her career in journalism, she’d been living with her sister because she couldn’t support herself waitressing and indulging in pastimes that were self-destructive.
And then Vinny De Innocentis had come along. He might have been four years her junior, but he was so totally with-it, with a sound work-ethic, a career in the Navy, and a long-term goal of becoming a doctor. He’d inspired her to improve herself. Finally, she felt like she was worthy of him, but only because of her job.
If and when he found out she was pregnant, that would change—not just because Vinny would insist that she alter her priorities but also because being pregnant would ruin her career.
Maybe she wouldn’t tell Vinny. The thought sneaked into her brain as she backed out of their single-car garage, executing a U-turn next to Vinny’s Honda Civic. She could visit a clinic somewhere and quietly abort—oh, God, no. She dismissed the notion the instant it occurred to her. She could never do that to Vinny or their baby. Not when she already knew what a terrific father he would make. Not when he let her park her car in their one-car garage so she didn’t have to run in and out of the weather. He deserved way better than that. He deserved better than her.
I’m a shitty person. Shame for having even considered an abortion made her swallow hard as she tugged the gear shift into drive and took off down Shore Drive in Virginia Beach, headed for Norfolk. But the fact remained that there were even shittier people out there pulling the wool over other people’s eyes, manipulating the system in their endless quest for power. And if Ophelia Price didn’t call those people onto the carpet to account for their sins, then who would?
Fixing her eyes on the road, she grubbed in her purse in search of the bronzer she usually applied as she drove. Vinny’s chiding voice sounded in her head, arresting her search. Baby, you don’t need to do that.
You’re beautiful just the way you are.
Pulling down the visor to look in the mirror there, she studied her reflection critically. Through her turquoise eyes, she admired her smart gray jacket and cream silk top. Back when Vinny had first met her she’d dressed like a hippy, not a professional. Her red-gold hair was pinned up in a loose but elegant knot. She leaned closer to the mirror, spying fine lines around her eyes and across her forehead. Did Vinny, who was all of twenty-five years old now, find her too mature? She would turn thirty in August.
Shutting the visor with a snap, she passed up the bronzer in favor of colored lip-gloss and decided to forego makeup otherwise. If she went on the air later, a makeup artist would put a ton of products on her then. She might be an inherently selfish person, but she didn’t need to risk the secret life inside her for no reason whatsoever.
*
Vinny’s mother still lived in the Italian neighborhood of Bella Vista in the same brick row house squeezed between two others just like it, on a street jammed with cars and sprinkled with debris. Whenever Ophelia took in his old stomping ground, she couldn’t help but marvel at what he’d overcome.
“You’re a saint,” she decided of her husband as he parallel-parked her somewhat new, sunburnt orange Kia Soul between two beaters.
He issued a startled laugh. “Hardly.” He slanted her a funny look. “What makes you say that?”
She just shook her head at his humility. Not only had Vinny resisted recruitment by the local gangs while growing up here, but he’d also helped to raise his little sister when their father ran off and his mother fell ill. “Most people are victims of their circumstances,” she said with a grimace. “But you always take the high road.” Which was probably why she felt like such a loser in comparison.