Reclaiming Izabel (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

by Victoria Paige

  “You think it was from your father?”

  “I know it was. Every year on the day of her death, there will be that one perfect rose.”

  A contemplative pause hung between them.

  “Hmm …” Gina steepled her fingers over her coffee cup. “You don’t seem to have abandonment fears or daddy issues. Your mother raised a strong, self-confident woman and, from what Drake’s told me, you handled his deployments well.”

  Izabel shrugged. “It wasn’t easy.”

  “I don’t need to remind you how tough it is for SEALs and their spouses to stay together,” Gina said dryly. She checked her watch. “I think we’ve talked enough for this morning. How about we take a break and take a walk on the grounds? It’s a gorgeous neighborhood.”

  “A couple of my designs were optioned by the builders in this subdivision.”

  “More like an estate community.” Gina rose from her chair. “Shall we?”

  Surprised that it wasn’t the emotional or brain drilling session she’d been expecting, Izabel smiled and nodded.

  It was later in the afternoon over tea and sweet biscuits when Gina made her move.

  They began with a baking session. The shrink had a penchant for French sweets and suggested baking Madeleines. Surprised, Izabel watched her unearth an antique Madeleine baking tin and a hand-held mixer from her shopping bag. This was followed by the requisite dry ingredients. Then she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the butter and eggs needed for this traditional small cake of northeastern France.

  Izabel wasn’t complaining. She loved baking. Drake’s favorite was the Tres Leches cake she’d learned from her mother. Besides, the buttery fragrance permeating the air of the kitchen wrapped her heart in a comforting blanket. There was no doubt the walk and the baking exercise were part of Gina’s efforts to put her at ease.

  When the Madeleines were done and Gina suggested they partake of all their hard-earned work in the sunroom, Izabel’s guard slammed up again, though not as closed off as it had been initially when they’d first met.

  This time Gina brewed tea to go with the sweets.

  The shrink smiled as she poured Izabel a cup. “It’s Midnight Lychee. Nothing to worry about. Nothing mind-altering in it.”

  “Sorry.” She did look suspiciously at Gina for a minute there.

  She also tried not to swoon too much when the first bite of the petite cake melted on her tongue. Still, she couldn’t help gushing. “Ohmigod.” Izabel swiped her mouth with a finger to keep a crumb from falling. “This is so good.”

  Gina’s eyes clouded and she gave a small smile. “It was my daughter’s favorite.”

  Was?

  Izabel finished the cake and took a sip of tea, forcing a smile when she looked back at the shrink. “Was?”

  “I had a daughter, Bobbi. She was eleven.” Gina picked up a sugar cube and dropped it into her tea and stirred. “She loved flowers, baby goats, and sweets. She loved running barefoot in the dirt and climbing trees. But the one thing she loved the most was baking with her gram.” She nodded to the plate of Madeleines. “My mother was French and that’s her antique tin I inherited from my grandmother.” Gina’s eyes grew glassy. “I had hoped to pass it on to Bobbi.” Giving one shake of her head, she continued. “We never thought Bobbi would have such a severe allergic reaction to bee stings. She’d been stung before and the swelling wasn’t much. That summer, my husband and I took a much-needed vacation and left Bobbi with my mother on her farm. She wandered off into the woods which was something she always did anyway. We believe she’d stumbled upon a bee hive.”

  Izabel found herself reaching out to Gina, covering the other woman’s hand that was wrapped around her teacup.

  “You don’t have to tell me this,” Izabel whispered. “I know why you are but …”

  “Bobbi’s death broke our family,” Gina said. “My mom blamed herself. My husband blamed me and our marriage didn’t survived. I’m a psychiatrist and yet I couldn’t help the people around me because my own grief made it difficult to see theirs. Eventually, my mother forgave herself. I never blamed her … but I lost her there for a while.” Gina flipped the hand Izabel was holding and clasped their hands together. The shrink looked her dead straight in the eye. “I think Drake’s return yanked the bottom bricks from the foundation you’ve built to move on from his and your baby’s loss.”

  A sudden burst of emotions clawed up Izabel’s throat making it difficult to speak. She nodded rapidly instead, controlling the tremble in her lips. Exhaling raggedly, she said, “Knowing I was pregnant helped me hang on to that last thread of sanity. Losing the baby and Drake within months of each other was almost too much to bear …” she gulped back a sob. “There were so many times I prayed to God to take me as well …” her voice trailed off.

  “Oh, Izabel.”

  “You’re right in a way. All my grief, all the strength I drew within myself to survive had become a joke. I was consoling myself that Drake left a part of him with me when he died, and then I lost our daughter.”

  Resentment scratched close to the surface of her skin. “Now I’m angry at him for not being there when I needed him the most.” She shook her head and withdrew her hand from Gina, crossed her arms and hugged her biceps, wanting to disappear into herself. “I also feel guilt for not being supportive of the sacrifices he made. I knew he thought it was the best for us, my mind is telling me he did the right thing, but I can’t help what I feel, you know?”

  “Like he abandoned you?”

  “Yes. I married a SEAL. I understood what I was taking on and yet he didn’t trust me enough to share his burden with him. That’s why it makes me so mad that he did this to me … to us.”

  “He was desperate to return to you,” Gina said softly. “He’d hit rock bottom when I met him. His injuries were severe and he’d spent days going out of his mind thinking about what he was putting you through …”

  “He should have found another way. I would have gone into hiding with him.”

  “He didn’t have much choice then.”

  “He told me and … I should understand him.” Tears scalded her eyes. “But it hurts too much and I’m afraid to be his wife again.”

  Understanding showed through the other woman’s eyes. “If it makes any difference … when he found out you lost the baby, he was determined to come home to you.”

  “Then why didn’t he?”

  “They shot him with a tranquilizer and kept him locked in a room for days,” the shrink stated baldly.

  “What?” Izabel rasped. Outrage fired through every fiber of her being; it was the feeling of outrage of a wife for her husband. “How could they? After all that he had been through?”

  Gina sighed. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell him that I told you that. The last thing Drake wants from you is pity.”

  “But …” Still reeling from this bit of information, Izabel looked everywhere until she forced herself to focus on the teapot in front of her. Drake was a proud man and the last thing he needed from her was pity. But Gina’s revelation chipped away at her fear and, instead, awakened an ache … a desire to fight for their marriage.

  “Tell me honestly.” She shifted her gaze to Gina. “Do you think there’s hope for Drake and me?”

  “Yes,” Gina answered without hesitation. “I have no doubt of Drake’s determination to win you back. That man isn’t a quitter and is devoted to you. I’ve seen his strength and now I’m beginning to understand yours. I’m very optimistic.”

  “So as our therapist, what do you suggest should be our next steps?”

  Chapter 13

  For two days after her first meeting with Doc G, Drake gave Izabel lots of space during the day. She wasn’t naïve to think she was truly alone. She knew the whole property was wired and either Tex or the Guardians were keeping an eye on her. Drake came home to the estate rental late in the afternoon, always with a paper bag of her favorite food and an orchid.

  Izabel smiled, star
ing at the two new orchids below the picture window.

  The first night it was Indian food—butter chicken—and a Cattleya orchid. The second evening, Drake picked up Shrimp Lo-mien. Surprisingly, the orchid that day was a Cymbidium. It wasn’t a common orchid even in typical greenhouses, so her husband must have contacted an orchid enthusiast.

  Izabel couldn’t deny this pleased her—Drake’s attempt at good old-fashioned courtship. Somehow it was a way for them to reconnect, to ease her back into a romance with him. Still, this isolation bothered her, so she shared with him about how she was worried that her disappearance with Marcus would spook the foundation sponsors enough to shelve the development. Drake assured her they wouldn’t be in hiding for long now, and that she and his commander would be returned to the public eye.

  To that end, conversation between them had lost its awkwardness. She was beginning to feel at ease with him, less like he was a stranger. It was time to reveal that one piece of information she’d kept close to her heart. She talked to Tex on the only phone she was allowed to use and discovered that Drake never knew about her secret. It was hers to share, Tex said, when the right time came.

  “Iza?”

  Drake’s voice followed the closing of the front door. She hurried down the stairs, dressed in jeans, a sweater, and sneakers.

  “Going somewhere?” his brows furrowed.

  “Yes.”

  “Iza, we can’t be seen in public.”

  “I know.” Her smile was small, tentative. “But trust me?” She held out her hand.

  His frown cleared and the look of hope on his face made her heart ache with what felt like the love she’d always had for him.

  It was time for healing.

  Wrought iron gates and moss-covered columns loomed before them. Izabel felt a prickle, the familiar twinge in her heart, whenever she visited this somber place. It was a cloudy day, fall had painted the trees in gold, rust, and orange, giving color to a land dotted with tombstones. Drake stiffened beside her and she heard his sharp inhale, but not the release of his breath.

  “Why are we here, Iza?” His voice was rough as he guided the Escalade through the cemetery gates.

  “It’s time for you to meet her,” she said softly. Tears burned her eyes, but Izabel kept them at bay because, once the floodgates open, there was no stopping its torrent and there was so much to say. Her words were garbled as she added, “Over there.” She pointed up the road to a small hill that held the plots of the children’s cemetery.

  A shudder and a ragged exhale shook the man beside her, but Izabel kept her gaze forward. She needn’t look at Drake to see the devastation on his face, because that was the same expression she’d seen reflected in the mirror for countless days in the past three years.

  “Stop here.”

  The SUV pulled slowly to a halt. Izabel pushed the door open and hopped out. She heard Drake’s own door open and close, but she didn’t hear any footsteps. She turned around and a sob hitched in her throat.

  Drake’s face was mottled with a ruddy color as if all his blood had gone to his head. Tears streamed down his face, and his mouth was slightly parted, trembling, as he tried to hold back his own tears.

  “Drake?” Izabel reached out her hand. “It’s time to meet Angelise.”

  The trek to their daughter’s little grave was a blur. The marble headstone gleamed amidst the smell of newly turned earth. When they reached the spot, Drake collapsed to his knees with his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with the force of his silent sobs. His breath occasionally caught as he dragged air into his lungs. Izabel’s own cheeks were wet but, at the moment, she was the strong one as she knelt beside her husband and took him in her arms. He leaned into her and she gave him comfort.

  Finally, their healing began.

  Angelina Elise Maddox

  Beloved daughter

  Heaven has gained an angel

  It was over twenty minutes before both their tears subsided.

  “You named her after Nan,” Drake said, tracing the engraved letters Elise on the headstone.

  “You had such admiration for your grandmother, I thought it was fitting.”

  Drake continued to inhale sharply and exhale shudderingly slow, trying to control the flood of emotions crashing through him.

  “Hello, little one,” his voice cracked and he blinked, a tear catching on his thick lashes, and Izabel was in danger of falling apart. Even the strongest of men could be driven to their knees with the devastating loss of a child. Izabel suspected Drake had never truly mourned their daughter until now.

  After a while, he lifted his gaze from the headstone to her as though waiting for her to say something.

  “Burying a husband and a daughter within months of each other … there were so many times I wanted to die, too,” Izabel began. “When I lost Angelise, the emptiness inside me wasn’t only physical, it was as if I’d lost who I was … as if I’ve become this non-entity. It scared me—this gaping black abyss inside me. I had nightmares that a pit of tar was swallowing me whole and I would cry out for you to help me.” Drake winced, but she stilled herself because it needed to be said. “I called out for you. At times, I thought I could hear your voice, but then you weren’t there and I would feel like dying all over again. ”

  “I’m sorry, Iza.”

  She nodded. “I just want you to understand why I was so angry at you when you came back alive and well. Why I felt betrayed. We made vows to each other and, when I needed you the most you weren’t there.” Drake was shaking his head … in regret? But he didn’t say anything. “Doc G asked me an important question. And that was whether knowing the man you are, if there was a chance of happiness for us if you didn’t go after your team’s killers.”

  He froze.

  She stepped closer to him, taking his face in the cradle of her palms to keep their gazes locked. “The man I love has integrity and would never rest until he brings those murderers to justice.” Her eyes searched his. “If you came back, we would be living half a life. We couldn’t be truly happy. A part of your soul was lost when your team died. My question is, Drake, have you gotten that missing part back?”

  “I’m almost there, Iza,” he said softly. The love reflected in his slate-blue irises left no doubt that it was Izabel who would finally complete him.

  Chapter 14

  Drake guided the Escalade into the four-car garage of the estate home. He turned off its engine, grabbed the Italian takeout bag and another orchid he’d picked up on the way home, and stepped down from vehicle.

  Doc G had called him an hour before to let him know she was leaving. It was Izabel’s second meeting with the shrink and three days after that cathartic scene at Angelise’s grave. He didn’t realize he hadn’t truly mourned their daughter. At first he was pissed that he didn’t know more about her, but his anger quickly dissipated when Izabel held out her hand, asking him to meet their daughter.

  It was as if all his guilt at abandoning his family was finally cleansed. When he and Izabel returned to the house that night, their dynamics shifted, the last barrier keeping them apart evaporated. Were they fixed? Of course not, but hope shined like a beacon in a storm-tossed ocean because his wife was starting to look upon him in the way she used to—with love and adoration.

  During the day, Drake cooled his heels at Castle Rock, sitting beside Tim as he assisted Edmunds and Brick in their stakeout of Allison Tierney. They also discussed how to spin their story and return Izabel and Marcus to society after their “alleged” kidnapping by the notorious Fuego Gang. Viktor was of the mind to use Drake’s back-from-the-dead story as bait and see what rats they could trap. As Tierney was the chief-of-staff of a possible future President, they needed to act fast to see if her boss was complicit in any way.

  He opened the door of the garage leading into the house. “Iza?”

  The kitchen had the under-cabinet lights on and a faint smell of toasted butter permeated the air. They’d been baking Madeleines again.


  He smiled.

  Drake’s eyes tracked movement from the living room and that was where he saw her.

  “Here.” Izabel rose from the couch, a magazine in hand. She was wearing a short tee and low riding drawstring gray sweatpants. Her heavy tits conformed to her tight top, and her belly button was exposed. His heart did a somersault beneath his chest. A stirring in his groin didn’t bode well for his self-control tonight. Jesus, what was this woman doing? Izabel knew how much he loved her exposed belly button and all he wanted to do was throw her on the couch, rip away her clothes and fuck her.

  He was like an ex-con who hadn’t had a woman in years.

  A knowing smile played on Izabel’s lips.

  Oh, his little temptress.

  “Everything go well today?” his voice croaked, as he lowered the paper bag and orchid on the dining table. Dammit. He cleared his throat.

  “It did.” She closed the distance between them and trailed a finger down his torso. His abs tightened in response. “How hungry are you?”

  Every muscle in his body seized and he forced himself to put their relationship above his physical needs. “I don’t want to mess this up—”

  “I wasn’t suggesting sex.”

  Just that three-letter word out of her mouth conjured up all erotic images in his head.

  She bit her lower lip. “I don’t want to mess this up either.” Izabel was fair-skinned enough that a blush on her was discernible. At that moment though, her face was flaming. “Uhm, I was thinking.” Her eyes lowered to his crotch, widened, and then quickly returned to his eyes.

  Drake smirked.

  “Stop that,” she whispered.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “Not in the way you mean.”

  “Maybe it’s exactly the way I want it to mean.”

  “Drake …” she chided in gentle annoyance.

  “Iza …” he teased.