by Lora Leigh
His resourceful little Sierra.
He fiddled with the key, tapped a monitor, pushed his hand into the pocket of Sierra’s robe, and gripped the gun.
He would only have a second.
He had to find a way to take out Gerard, and hopefully to disarm Marlena in no more than a second or two.
That first moment of surprise would be the only chance he had.
“I’m going to need to check the electronics,” he sighed, glancing back to Gerard.
“And that would be where?” Gerard asked icily.
“Below the controls.” John nodded to the small door at the bottom of the console.
“Move back.” Gerard waved the gun at him.
John and Sierra did as he said as Marlena moved closer, her weapon pointing toward them, her gaze hardening.
“Please don’t try anything, John,” she warned him quietly.
Gerard knelt, worked the panel loose, and John moved.
As he did, mayhem suddenly exploded through the boat.
The long, wide window at the side of the console shattered as a hard male form launched itself into the room. The front door burst in and John jumped for Gerard.
He had almost moved too late. Gerard was coming up with the weapon when John jerked hold of him and slammed his head into the console as the gun went off.
John felt the bullet tear along his bicep, the fiery blaze of pain shocking him for a moment, giving Gerard the opening he needed to come back.
Another gun fired.
Gerard stared at John in shock, in surprise, as a bloom of red began to stain across the perfectly pressed white silk shirt he wore.
In the distance, he heard Marlena screaming in denial as Dawg Mackay quickly restrained her. She was fighting him tooth and nail, screeching when Sierra walked up to her and smacked her full handed across the face with enough force to immediately shut her up.
Gerard fell to the floor of the boat, his gaze sightless. Marlena shut up, thankfully, and Sierra turned back to John.
“It’s over now,” she said softly, those gray eyes so filled with pain that his heart broke for her.
TWELVE
Sierra felt John lift her in his arms and move to the couch where he sat down with her, holding her close against him, breathing deep and hard as Dawg Mackay pushed a restrained Marlena into a chair on the other side of the room.
“How fucking romantic,” she snarled. “You’re so weak, Sierra. So stupid. Do you truly believe fucking him is going to hold him to you?”
She didn’t. She had always known better. It wasn’t fucking him that would hold him to her.
“Loving him will be enough.”
Marlena laughed at that.
“Shut the fuck up, Marlena.” John’s voice held a vein of weariness. “Your little games are over, and I’ve simply had enough of your mouth for the moment.”
“You stupid country hick,” she cried out. “You could have had everything with me.”
“He could have had nothing.” Sierra pulled herself from John’s grip, stood, and glared at the other woman in rising fury. “You’ve destroyed Gerard, yourself, and now you actually believe you would have done anything but destroy John?”
“You moralistic little bitch,” Marlena screamed as the Mackays and Timothy Cranston stared at her in loathing and pity. “You’re as ignorant as he is. He fucked you and passed out, he didn’t even remember he’d had you.” She laughed as Sierra flinched. “You’re such a stupid little whore.”
“I remembered.”
Sierra whirled around, staring back at him in surprise as his arms came around her.
There were too many witnesses she thought. He was lying to help her save face, nothing more.
“I remembered,” he swore, staring down at her as she fought to believe him. “I was drunk as hell, baby, it just took time, but nothing that important, nothing that special to me could have been forgotten for long.”
His fingers touched the single tear that fell from her eye as those behind her were forgotten. Nothing existed but John. Nothing existed but the fact that he was holding her, that he was there, that he loved her. And that he remembered.
“You’ll regret it,” Marlena suddenly laughed behind her. “Love wears off, trust me, I know.” The bitterness in her voice was self-explanatory.
Turning back to her Sierra stared back at Marlena with true pity. Nothing could have hurt worse in Sierra’s life than losing John forever, but never would she have destroyed herself to get back at him.
“True love doesn’t wear off,” she told Marlena. “It doesn’t strike back, and it keeps the heart warm, even when it wants to forget, when it wants to stop hurting. You never loved anyone but yourself.”
The sound of sirens outside, the rush of officers nearing the boat drew her attention. It was over. The danger was gone. If John asked her to leave, if he decided their time ended with the summer, then she would face it with no regrets.
It would break her heart. It would destroy her. But the love she felt for him would never allow her to harm him or to strike back at him.
Marlena stilled as the officers came through the shattered door. Her gaze flashed with fear before she turned to John with a twisted smile.
“I’ll never see prison,” she whispered.
“I’m afraid you will,” he promised her.
She shook her head. “They won’t let me live long enough.”
John watched, almost smiling as Timothy Cranston stepped forward. Calculated interest filled his expression. “We could discuss that, Ms. Genoa,” he stated with such false innocence that the men in the room couldn’t help but chuckle. “We can discuss that in depth.”
ONE MONTH LATER
Sierra watched, a small smile on her face as the Walker clan, including John’s sister, Rogue, and her husband, Sheriff Zeke Mayes, filled the huge backyard of Dawg Mackay’s two-story ranch house. The Walkers weren’t the only ones there. The entire Mackay clan, including Faisal, Natches’s adopted son, the four precocious toddlers, and Timothy Cranston’s lady friend, as well as a young woman he called his adopted daughter, mingled around the tables of food and the pool, and lounged in the comfortable patio furniture set out.
It was a true barbeque. This was no catered affair. Sierra had been at the house for the past two days. Sierra, Rogue, Kelly, Christa, Janey, and Chaya had helped the men prepare for what they called a family reunion.
She’d never been to a family reunion, and she had to admit, she was rather enjoying this one.
John Calvin Walker Sr., “Calvin” to everyone here but his wife, watched the children, his two grandchildren as well as the Mackays’ toddlers with a small smile as he sipped the clear, homemade liquor Dawg had supplied him with.
Sierra had never seen him in jeans until today. Even Brianna Walker wore jeans, a smile, and a ponytail. She looked as though she had come from the same mountains her husband had been born in.
“It’s about time you managed to snag John’s heart.” Rogue moved up to her, brushing back her long red-gold hair, her gaze affectionate and filled with warmth as she gave Sierra a quick hug. “I swear, I thought my big brother was a goner when he gave Marlena that ring.”
“John was too smart for her.” A satisfied smile curled Sierra’s lips.
She’d learned to live for the moment. She didn’t ask for promises, she never hinted for any from John. It was enough to have each day as it came. To store each memory, each touch, each kiss, just in case he asked her to leave.
“He was indeed,” Rogue agreed. “You love him terribly, don’t you, Sierra?”
She and Rogue had always been friends. No one could have missed her more than Sierra had when she had left Boston so long ago.
“With all my heart,” Sierra agreed.
“He loves you,” Rogue told her then.
Sierra nodded. He told her often that he loved her. He held her, even when she had nightmares, drew her into every facet of his life, and gave her a sense of conte
ntment that she had never known.
But he asked for nothing. No commitment, no nothing. And the time was coming that she had to make a decision. She had a career to return to, a job; she couldn’t live off John, and she wouldn’t live off him. But she couldn’t make the final move without an invitation, without some sort of commitment from him.
“It’s so great to see you together.” Rogue hugged her again. “And I’m so looking forward to having you here. You can help decorate the new house.”
Sierra kept her answer vague and once again pushed back the unsettling thought that perhaps John didn’t want her to stay. Maybe he hadn’t asked for a commitment because he didn’t want one.
“Ah, I see my honey calling me.” Rogue moved away, drawing Sierra’s gaze to Zeke Mayes as he motioned to his wife.
John was moving across the lawn as the music blaring from the speakers at the side of the house quieted and everyone turned to her.
“Hey, lollipop,” John whispered in her ear as he kissed her cheek. “Ready to have some fun?”
“With you?” She laughed back. “You’re always fun, dummy.”
“I’m about to become more fun.”
He knelt in front of her as he caught her left hand.
Sierra stood in shock, her heart suddenly hammering against her chest, throbbing in her throat as she stared down at him.
“You enrich me, Sierra Lucas,” he suddenly announced. “You break the rules, you made my heart full, and you bring me a peace I only dreamed of having.”
Oh God.
She couldn’t cry.
She stared down at him, barely daring to breathe as he held her hand in his and lifted his free hand.
“Sierra Lucas, I’ve requested the approval of your godfather for your hand in marriage. And I now ask you, the other half of me, the one woman that completes me.” A ring slid on her finger. “Will you marry me?”
She stared at the ring in awe. A single diamond surrounded by deep, violet-blue sapphires. It was the heirloom engagement ring John Walker had purchased when he made his first million. A legacy for his wife to pass on to their son’s wife.
The antique ring had been fashioned in the sixteen hundreds, the burnished gold rich with age and priceless sentiment, and it now sat on her finger.
“Don’t leave me cold, Sierra,” John whispered as he stared up at her. “Don’t let me ever have to exist without you again.”
She could feel the eyes watching them, and she didn’t care.
She could feel the men’s amusement, the women’s interest, and none of it mattered.
“I love you,” he stated. “With my heart, my soul. Forever.”
Her lips trembled as a tear fell from her eye.
“Yes.”
He didn’t give her time to say anything more.
He was on his feet, she was in his arms, and he was twirling her around as the sunlight glinted blue off the diamond, and struck fire to the sapphires as she curled her arms around his neck and buried her head against his shoulders.
And the tears fell then.
Happy tears. Tears of joy, of love, of all the hopes and all the dreams she had ever harbored inside her.
They all existed here, in this man’s arms, in the fiery love he gave and the sense of belonging.
She was adrift no more.
“I love you.” Her arms tightened around his neck. “So much, John. I love you so much.”
He sat her gently on her feet, framed her face with his hands, and let his lips touch hers. “Until the day after forever, Sierra. I’ll love you until the day after forever.”
And that was all that mattered.
Her lips parted beneath his as his tongue licked against them and he gave her another of those naughty kisses she loved so much. Deep, powerful, filled with love, arousal, heat, and a promise.
A promise to love her until the day after forever.
RIDING THE EDGE
JACI BURTON
To the wonderful Lora Leigh.
I’m honored to be your friend.
ONE
Rick Benetti had been fucked, and not in the fun way. No potential to shoot the bad guys, no uncovering a drug smuggling ring or going after gunrunners—he’d gotten the babysitting job instead. God forbid he should get a kick-ass assignment like the other Wild Riders.
One would think working undercover for the government would give him a hot job like the other guys. Like Mac had done when he’d had to carry around a live virus from Chicago to Dallas to make sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Or when Diaz and Jessie had gone undercover to join a bike gang that was selling guns to survivalists. Or Spence, who’d had a prime job working with Agent Shadoe Grayson in a strip club in New Or-leans in order to bring in a rogue federal agent who was working with the Colombians to smuggle drugs.
Now those were the juicy cases.
Him? He had to go find and babysit some Nevada senator’s daughter who thought it might be fun to join a biker gang.
Like that was a national security threat?
Fuck. More likely some bored college student thumbing her nose at Daddy’s authority by joining up with the Hellraisers biker gang. Though Rick had to admit, the Hellraisers weren’t exactly the soft and cuddly type of bikers. He should know—he used to be one of them.
And the last thing he wanted to do after being out of the club for ten years was get back in it. Which was what General Grange Lee, head of the Wild Riders, told him he’d have to do.
His criminal past behind him, Rick had lived a clean life for the past ten years. Not by choice, initially. At seventeen he’d been bad and about to get worse. Until one bust and the chance of a lifetime had changed his life. General Grange Lee had come into his life and offered him the opportunity to go to work for the United States government. Facing the alternative of prison, Rick had taken General Lee up on his offer.
Now he was heading back into his old life again, insinuating himself into the gang that had caused him so much trouble. And the leader of that gang in Las Vegas? His cousin Bo.
Yeah, that made sense. Bo had always been a badass. Kind of like himself—a badass with delusions of grandeur. General Lee had kicked that out of Rick. Made him a team player. Bo, though, that was another matter. Bo hadn’t had the benefit of General Lee’s firm but fair guidance.
Maybe the Hellraisers had cleaned up their act in the ten years Rick had been out of the picture. But from the intelligence he’d gotten from General Lee at Wild Riders headquarters, it didn’t look that way. Which was why he’d been given this assignment. First, because he used to be part of this gang and he could get in easier. Second, because Ava Vargas’s involvement with the Hellraisers could be a potential embarrassment for Senator Hector Vargas, not to mention a national security risk, especially since Senator Vargas was currently working on significant national antidrug legislation.
Rick supposed having one’s daughter involved in a suspected drug-running biker gang would be a PR nightmare for a senator about to write a major antidrug law.
Still, Rick would rather be going undercover anywhere else but back with his old gang, even if he did see the logic of why he’d been given this particular assignment.
Didn’t mean he had to like it.
He’d fired up his Harley and ridden from Dallas to Las Vegas. Bike week in Vegas was about to roll out, so the Hellraisers should be on the Strip. Now he just had to find them and get himself back in the old gang again.
Rick rode the Strip, ignoring the colorful, neon flashing lights of all the casinos, his focus on the bikes and riders that had poured into town for the big blast that would last a week.
Some were single riders, or a group of friends. Others were part of clubs, their jackets and vests labeled with their gang names. It didn’t take long for Rick to find the Hellraisers. They were a large group and their leather vests bore the flame insignias and their club name across the back. He goosed the throttle and increased his speed to catch up, riding past the gang until h
e spotted his cousin at the lead, then turned his bike around. Bo had pulled up at a local hangout for bikers—a bar. Rick rode in and parked next to Bo.
Bo gave him a cursory glance of contempt, a “don’t fuck with me” kind of attitude. Rick smirked, realizing Bo hadn’t even looked at him, just given him a quick once-over and labeled him an outsider.
“Still an asshole as always, aren’t you, Bo?” Rick said as he got off his Harley.
Bo’s head shot up, then recognition dawned. His face split in a wide grin. “Rick? Son of a bitch. It is you.” He grabbed Rick in a bear hug. “How long has it been?”
Rick hugged him back, then separated. “Ten years, man.”
They headed inside the bar and ordered two beers. Rick noticed only some of the Hellraisers had come in with Bo. The others stayed outside. Watchers, no doubt, keeping an eye out for rival gangs the Hellraisers might have a beef with. The last thing the Hellraisers would want is to be cornered inside the bar. The ones outside would give a heads-up if Bo and others needed to make a quick exit.
Bo took a long pull from his bottle of beer, then settled his gaze on Rick. “Last time I saw you, you were getting arrested.”
Rick laughed. “Same for you, since we were getting arrested at the same time for the same thing.”
Bo shrugged. “I did six months and got three years’ probation on that one. But never saw you again. What the hell happened?”
“You know as well as I do that wasn’t my first arrest like it was yours.”
Bo grinned. “I was sneakier than you. And a faster runner.”
“So you say. I think you threw me under the bus.”
Bo laughed. “So, you did time?”
“They sent me down for three years.”
Bo winced. “Ouch. That’s rough.”
“Yeah. After that I took to the road. Prison was damned confining. I needed some space.”
“So where’ve you been?”
“Chicago, mainly. But mostly I just ride all over. Settling in one place too long usually means problems for me.”
