Caillen frowned. “You expecting company?”
She shook her head, then went to answer it.
It was a uniformed delivery man. “Good afternoon, fria. I have a package here for Shahara Dagan.”
“I am she.”
“Good.” He held a ledger out for her. “If you’ll just sign—”
“I didn’t order anything,” she said, interrupting him.
“Ma’am, I’m just the messenger. If you’d like to talk it over with someone who knows something more about it, there’s a number on the invoice you can hail.” He held the ledger out for her once again.
Signing her name, she took the box from his hands.
Caillen looked up. “What is it?”
She shrugged and reached for a knife to open it. Unfolding the box, her frown grew. Layers of gold tissue paper met her hand and she dug through it until she touched something incredibly soft.
Picking it up, her mouth dropped open.
It was the blue-green dress from the hotel lobby that she’d wanted so badly. Not only the dress, but everything that went with it—stockings, shoes, even a shawl.
“Did he send you that?”
“Shut up, Caillen,” she snapped, reveling in the softness as she held the delicate sleeve up to her cheek. It really did feel as soft as a spider’s web. Warmth spread through her.
Why would Syn have sent her this?
Unless . . .
Her heart sped up. Could it be his way of apologizing?
It must be.
And if he were ready to see her again, then maybe, just maybe . . .
Elated, she rushed to the bathroom to try her dress on. Once she had settled it over her body, she ran her hands down the front. Oh, it was magnificent. And it made her feel so beautiful. So feminine.
Needing to share it with someone, she twirled back out to where Caillen sat. “What do you think?”
He glanced over at her and snorted. “You look like some rich guy’s mistress. I think it’s disgusting.”
“You’re so mean.” Shahara unbraided her hair, then twisted it up into a loose bun. Pulling stray tendrils of it around her face, she glared at Caillen. “It’s your own fault you can’t find work. After what you said to Syn, you deserve to starve and go begging in the streets.”
For the first time, she saw contrition in his eyes. “I know I shouldn’t have said what I did. But you have to understand that there’s a special code between guys—you don’t bed-rock with your best friend’s sister. Ever.”
She rolled her eyes at his crudeness.
“You’re my big sister, Shay, and I always thought you were above baser emotions.”
“Oh, thanks a lot.”
Caillen sighed. “I wish I could tell him I’m sorry.”
“Why don’t you?”
His spine went ramrod stiff. “I’m a man, Trisa, not a wimp.”
“There’s a spice shipment that needs to be delivered to Derridia tonight.”
Shahara turned around at the deep baritone voice she’d longed to hear. Like a feral predator watching its target, Syn stood in the shadow of her sheet, just inside her bedroom.
She looked over to Vik, who sat whistling guiltily in the corner. The little booger must have let Syn in while she’d been trying on her dress.
“Why don’t you call Criam and tell him I said for you to take it?”
Caillen rose slowly to his feet. “You sure?”
Syn glanced to Shahara. “Good pilots are a dina a dozen, but great pilots are hard to replace.” He looked back at Caillen. “Now go on before I change my mind.”
Caillen shrugged his jacket on and gave Shahara a quick peck on her cheek. “I’ll call you later.” Then he dashed out the door.
Shahara licked her suddenly dry lips as Syn turned his obsidian gaze back to her.
Gods, he was gorgeous. With his hair down and his cheeks dusted by whiskers, he wore an entirely white outfit that made his skin appear even darker than normal. The white linen outlined every corded muscle, and his pants hugged a rump so prime that it begged to be savored.
In spite of herself, her blood raced.
Feeling suddenly awkward, she searched for something to say. Tell him you love him.
No, she couldn’t do that.
Not yet.
“Thank you for the dress,” she said, deciding that was innocuous enough.
With a sheepish grin, he rubbed his neck. “I thought it would be a nice change to see you in something other than pants and work clothes.” A hungry light flickered in the darkness of his eyes. “You look great.”
So do you. He’d lost some weight. Not much, just enough to heighten the appearance of his well-developed muscles.
Every piece of her was attuned to him, and all she wanted was to rush to him and pull him into her arms. Run her hands over his muscles and take him . . .
But the thought of his rejection kept her feet riveted to the floor. She wouldn’t embarrass herself.
At least not yet.
Silence hung heavy between them. Shahara bit her lip, waiting for him to say something.
Vik turned into a bird. “You know, I’m feeling really awkward, people. Think I’m going to visit with Caillen for a bit.” He took off out the window.
At last Syn crossed the distance between them and took her hands in both of his. An emotion she couldn’t define creased his brow. “I’ve missed you, Shahara.”
His words gave her so much ecstasy that she felt like singing.
But she couldn’t.
Instead she gave him a tender smile. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“No,” he said, cupping her face in his hands while he stared at her with those obsidian eyes. Eyes that mirrored the depth of his emotions, and allowed her to see straight into his soul. “I mean I’ve really missed you.”
“And?”
“And what?”
She looked up at him. All she wanted was for him to say it. For him to tell her that he loved her.
Was that so hard?
She saw his devotion, but that wasn’t enough. If he couldn’t say it . . .
“Never mind.”
Syn stared at her in confusion as she pulled away from him. Why was she being so distant?
Fine, then. Two could play that. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the wall. “I heard you quit your job.”
“Yeah.” She shut down her computer that Caillen had left on. “I surrendered my license as soon as I came home.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Before I met you, I always thought justice was black and white. Right and wrong. You showed me that it wasn’t that simple. And I became terrified when I thought about how many innocent people I might have helped execute. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
She looked up at him with those haunting golden eyes that seared his soul. “I couldn’t stand the thought of what I’d done to you.”
He pulled her back into his arms. “I need you to be a part of my life.”
She tensed. “Yes, you’ve told me that before and then you refused to speak to me for six months.”
“Well, you did hand me over to the man who wanted to kill me.”
Sadness shadowed her eyes and she looked down at his chest. “I know.”
He lifted her chin so that he could see her expression. “Why didn’t you give Merjack the right chip?” He wanted her to tell him it was because she loved him too much to see him die.
“Because I was a seax, sworn to uphold justice and I was on a mission for them.”
He winced as she confirmed his fear. He really didn’t mean anything to her.
“Oh.” He took a step back and released her.
Shahara waited for him to continue.
When he started for the door, she called out, “Why did you think I did it?”
“Nothing. It was stupid.” He reached for the latch, then stopped.
She watched as various emotions crossed his face. He closed his
eyes and looked like he was battling the devil himself.
Finally he spoke. “I can’t do this again,” he said in a voice so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
Before she could ask him what he meant, he returned to her side. “I love you, Shahara. You showed me what it was like to talk to someone. Really talk. And now . . . I can’t live without you.”
He knelt before her and took her hand in his.
She stared down at him, awed that a man so strong had humbled himself for her.
“Save me, Shahara,” he whispered. “Save me from the lonely nights that never end.” He reached into his pocket and took out the amber ring she’d seen that night in the hotel. He slid it on her finger and kissed it. “I want you to marry me, Shahara.”
Shocked, she stared at the beautiful ring. “Whose ring is this?”
“Yours.”
That destroyed her mood and the tender feelings he’d stirred. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “I saw you with it the night you were arrested. How many years have you had it?” She narrowed her gaze. “Who did you buy it for?”
He smiled up at her. “I bought it for you, Shahara, because the color reminded me of your eyes. It was in the store where I bought our clothes. I have the receipt if you want to see it.”
She shook her head, her heart pounding. He really did love her. She couldn’t believe it. “No, baby. I trust you.”
“Then say you’ll marry me.”
She smiled as joy swept through her and left her breathless. “I will marry you, Sheridan Digger Wade.”
His dimple flashed. “Call me Syn.”
“As much as I’d like to give in to Syn,” she said, crinkling her nose playfully at him, “I don’t think I can. You’re not even willing to share that name with me. I still don’t know what the C.I. stands for. Besides, Shahara Syn sounds like a disease, or a city.”
His warm laugh thrilled her as he stood up in front of her. “Okay, you want to know what C.I. stands for?”
“If you want me to agree to marry you I do.”
She watched in amazement as a deep red stain crept over his face.
Could it really be that embarrassing?
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her from under his lashes. “Do you remember, years ago, that little cartoon vorna cub on the back of moglas boxes?”
What did that have to do with anything?
“That cute one who was always getting into trouble?” she asked.
He nodded. “He was named C.I.”
Her mouth dropped open as it dawned on her. A laugh bubbled up and before she could squelch it, it burst through, making his face an even brighter shade of red.
“You’re kidding. You named yourself after a cartoon?”
“I told you it was embarrassing. I was just a stupid kid, and no one wanted to deal with a kid who didn’t have at least a pretense of a real name. I thought it sounded cool.”
She shook her head. “In that case, I will definitely be calling you Sheridan.”
His eyes twinkled. “I don’t think you can do it. You’re too used to calling me Syn.”
“Oh please, Syn, I . . .”
He flashed his dimple at her. “Told you.” Unwilling to let him have this victory, she tried to think of a name to call him. “How about Syn Wade?”
“How about you, Gildagard, kiss me and we go and find a priestess so that I can make an honest woman out of you?”
She stood on her toes and met his lips.
Syn’s arms tightened around her waist as he kissed her senseless. He pulled away from her with a soft moan.
When he spoke, it was with a ragged whisper that set her heart pounding even harder. “How about we find a bed and then a priestess?”
She laughed. “Quit talking, Convict, and give me another kiss.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And this time when his lips met hers, she knew that it would be forever.
EPILOGUE
Two years later
Syn paused as he saw Shahara brushing her hair while she sat on his bed. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was that he’d taken a chance on her, and it’d paid off in ways he couldn’t imagine.
Thank the gods for Nykyrian. Had his friend not been so harsh with him, he wasn’t sure if he’d have ever come to his senses where she was concerned.
Once again, he owed his life to an assassin.
“You know, I was thinking . . .”
Shahara paused to meet his gaze. “About what?”
“We don’t have to do this tonight. I can tell Kip that I’m not feeling well.”
“Why?”
Because he knew how much it upset her to be around Kiara and Nykyrian’s children when they couldn’t have their own. She didn’t say it, but he always saw the pain in her gaze that she tried so hard to hide.
It was so unfair. He’d never seen a woman more maternal or kinder than her, and yet all she could do was love other people’s babies. He hated that for her.
They’d tried everything, even adoption, both infants and older children, but with his past . . .
No one would let him near a child.
She came off the bed and approached him. “I don’t mind, Syn.”
“You always say that.” He pulled her close and held her. “I’m so sorry, Shay.”
“There’s no need to be sorry, sweetie. Besides, I need to see Kiara and ask her some things.”
Pulling back, he frowned. “What kind of things?”
“Parenting advice.”
His frown deepened. “Why?”
“Well, I kind of screwed up raising Kasen, Tessa, and Caillen. And you screwed up raising Vik. I’m really hoping that we can do better with our baby.”
It took a full minute for those words to sink in.
She flashed a bright smile at him as she went to her top drawer and pulled out a pregnancy test.
It was positive.
“Your treatment worked, Syn. We’re going to have a baby.”
He couldn’t breathe as he stared at the test and then looked at her.
She was pregnant.
His hand shaking, he reached out and touched her stomach. “How far along?”
“You’re the doctor. But I think about seven weeks.”
Laughing, he picked her up in his arms and swung her around. “I’m going to throw you the biggest baby shower you’ve ever seen.”
“I think Kiara’s supposed to do that.”
“I don’t care.” He slid her down his front so that he could cup her face in his hands. “Thank you, Shay.”
“For what?”
“For looking into the eyes of nothing and seeing a man you could love.”
Shahara wanted to weep at his words that touched her deep inside her heart. “You were never nothing, Syn. And you will always be everything to me.”
Read on for an excerpt from
the next League book
BORN OF ICE
Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
PROLOGUE
“That right there is the meanest son of a bitch ever born.”
Devyn Kell jerked his head up from his paperwork as he heard that deep, familiar voice coming from across the room.
No. It couldn’t be . . .
He barely bit back his smile as he instantly saw the newcomer through the group of soldiers who separated them in the mess hall.
Adron Quiakides. Braggart. Womanizer. Lunatic . . . and his best friend since birth.
Only a handful of years older than him, Adron had snow-white hair that fell in a braid down his back. As a League Assassin, Adron wore the uniform well. So black it absorbed light, it was a stark contrast to his hair and molded itself to every muscle the assassin possessed.
His eyes were covered by a pair of opaque shades, but even so, Devyn knew their color better than his own. As a kid, he’d saved the right one from blindness after they’d had a race through a briar patch that had all but ripped it out.
D
evyn had won the race. But Adron claimed it was only because he’d almost lost his eye.
As if the loss of a limb could ever slow one of them down . . .
He hadn’t seen Adron in almost six months, but he was definitely glad to see him now.
“You mean Kell?” Devyn’s commanding officer choked as Adron draped his arm over Quills’s shoulders. “Are you high, Commander? He’s a friggin’ doctor. The only part of me he scares is my tonsils.”
Adron tsked at Devyn’s CO who’d done nothing but rag on him for the last two months since he’d been reassigned to this unit. The man really was lucky Devyn had learned to control his temper.
Most days anyway.
Adron clapped the CO on the back so hard, Quills actually staggered from the blow. “Yeah, that’s what he wants you to think. But trust me. I know his skills firsthand. His father was the notorious filch and assassin C.I. Syn. His mother the legendary Seax Shahara Dagan.”
Devyn clamped his jaw tight to keep from drawing his blaster and shooting his best friend for letting out a secret he’d done his damnedest to keep. You asshole.
Quills gaped at them both. “He is their son?”
“Oh, yeah. And I’ll do you one better. He was trained from birth to fight by the best assassin The League ever created.”
Quills scoffed. “You mean there’s someone out there better than your father?”
Adron shook his head as he shoved Quills away from him. “No, idiot. My father trained him.” He flashed an evil grin at Quills. “Just FYI, my father is also his godfather. So you want to be real nice to Dev. All of us take it personally when people aren’t.”
Devyn rose to his feet as Adron closed the distance between them. He held his hand out and let his friend pull him into a tight man-hug. “It’s good to see you again, aridos. But really . . . some discretion would have been nice. Out of character for your rotten ass, but nice.”
Adron laughed good-naturedly as he released him. “C’mon, Dev. You need to let these assholes know what you can do. Who you really are. They think you’re weak, they’ll step all over you.”
A true assassin’s philosophy, but it wasn’t in Devyn’s nature to push people around. He was too easygoing for that.
Sherrilyn Kenyon - [League 02] Page 43
