The Assassin

by Tricia Andersen

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  Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,

  Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona

  www.hartwoodpublishing.com

  The Assassin

  Copyright © May 2015 by Tricia Andersen

  Digital Release: June 2016

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The Assassin by Tricia Andersen

  Torn by jealousy, Sloan leaves Abbey behind to run Sloan Enterprises when the CIA sends him and Bartholomew on a secret mission in Afghanistan. The couple’s paths cross overseas and Abbey joins her husband on the mission. Tension flares between them in the hot Afghani sun. Can Sloan overcome his emotions long enough to complete his mission, or will his raging jealousy tear him from the woman he loves…forever?

  Dedication

  To my readers, to everyone who has picked up one of my books and read it, to those who have told me how much they love my characters and ask for more…

  My deepest and most heartfelt thank you. You are the reason I get to do what I love to do. You give me the chance to live my greatest dream come true.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Chapter One

  The sultry, humid heat of the Minnesota summer wafted through the slatted windows and breezed across the wood plank, deep-stained floor. The subtle click of dance shoes echoed through the old gymnasium. The routine being performed was hotter than the weather outside. His hand was on her hip, tugging her tight against his body. Her arm draped backward around his neck, her breasts heaving against the Lycra of her leotard. Their rhythm was in perfect time.

  As the music drifted away, the man let go of his partner and applauded. “Excellent work, Abbey. I think we can speed it up just a notch before the competition.”

  Abbey swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that glistened on her skin. “I’m glad you have the faith in me to do that, Seth.”

  Seth chuckled. “Take a few moments. We’ll try again. I have to go make a phone call.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Abbey slumped onto a wooden bench then picked up her water bottle to take a sip. She glanced around the cavernous room as she peeled off the scarf, tied around her waist like a skirt, from her damp legs. She’d enrolled in Seth’s Pilates class to regain some of her flexibility after she had given birth to her third child, Colin. Not that being the COO of a major real estate corporation required being limber. However, being an assassin did. It was definitely her position in title only. Although she was easily the best sharpshooter on the team, she just couldn’t kill.

  Abbey laughed to herself. Not that I lost much. I doubt many five-months-pregnant women can shimmy into the rafters of a cathedral in Bolivia with a sniper rifle. I did.

  Seth had been instantly impressed with Abbey’s athleticism and encouraged her to join his dance class. Only three months of three sessions a week had passed before he had invited her to be his own partner in the upcoming competition. She suspected it had to do with more than her skills. She may have been a naïve children’s author from Iowa, but she couldn’t miss the burning desire in his eyes. I’ve made it perfectly clear I’m married. I need to bring Sloan in to introduce him very soon.

  Abbey was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps across the floor. “Ready to try again?” Seth asked.

  Setting her bottle down, Abbey stood and smoothed out her scarf skirt. “Absolutely.”

  Striding to the MP3 player, Seth scrolled through the music on the playlist to start the previous song. He pressed play then raced to her before the sultry notes filled the room. Abbey concentrated to match the beat to her steps. Seth nudged her faster. When her curves molded against his, Abbey listened as he sucked in air. He did so every time they reached that point of the routine. Abbey concentrated on her feet as they continued on.

  Their footsteps slowed as the music quieted. Abbey heard Seth take a breath to offer feedback. But his words were cut off by the noise of loud, slow, deliberate clapping. Abbey searched for the source then gasped. Sloan leaned against the doorframe, every bit of him sinfully sensual in his Armani suit. His tall, strong stature was unusually tense, and his ice-blue eyes pierced her.

  “What are you doing here?” Abbey questioned.

  Sloan stood straight then strode across the gym to them. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Abigail?”

  Abigail. Great. I’m in trouble. “Sloan, this is Seth, my dance instructor. Seth, this is my husband, Sloan.”

  Seth’s green eyes grew wide as he took in Sloan. “Abbey’s told me a lot about you.” He offered his hand.

  Sloan glared at Abbey as they shook. “Funny. She hasn’t said a word about you to me.”

  “Again, Sloan, why are you here?” Abbey demanded.

  “We have a meeting in a half hour. You need to get back to Sloan Enterprises. Now.”

  “There weren’t any meetings on my calendar.”

  “It’s not work-related.”

  Abbey inhaled sharply. Another mission. “Got it.” She turned to Seth. “I have to go.”

  Seth smiled at her. “No problem. I’ll see you next week.” He looked at Sloan. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Sloan nodded. “Likewise. Let’s go, Abigail.”

  “Let me get my things first.”

  “Hurry.”

  Abbey hurried to her bag and tossed her water bottle in with her things. Then she rushed off after her husband. A shower would have to wait. She wanted to talk to Sloan about humiliating her in front of her instructor first. She fumed as they stepped onto the glass elevator at Sloan Enterprises. She could see the anger in his eyes as they rode together to the top floor of the building. Storming past Vicki and Ashleigh, Abbey slammed the door of Sloan’s office once they were inside.

  “What were you thinking? That was embarrassing.”

  Sloan glared at her coldly. “Forgive me. How am I to react when I find my wife in the arms of another man, and his hands are roaming places meant solely for me?”

  “We were dancing, Sloan. Nothing else.”

  “The way he was looking at you, I highly doubt dancing is all that’s on his mind. Is it all that’s on yours?”

  “Of course!”

  Sloan let go a snort of disbelief as he picked up a document and studied it.

  Abbey cocked her head. “Am I sensing a bit of jealousy from you?”

  Sloan tossed the paper on the desk. “I am not jealous. I don’t understand the concept, Abigail. You’ve known me long enough to know that nothing and no one stands in the way of what I want. It’s non-negotiable. The CIA will be here shortly. You might want to change into something more appropriate.”

  “Whatever you say,” Abbey spat.

  “Excellent. Go.”

  Abbey shot one last, furious look at him before she threw open the door and strode out.

  »»•««

  Sloan
stared at the door that Abbey had just slammed again. He growled in response. If his precious, wee wife thought she was going to win this battle she had another think coming.

  He dropped into his plush leather chair. Her accusation didn’t help his temper any. It was true that jealousy wasn’t an emotion he was accustomed to. After seeing that dance instructor with his hands all over Abbey, Sloan was seething. Doesn’t that scrawny prima donna know who he’s dealing with? He sure as bloody hell is about to find out.

  Spinning toward the window, Sloan pressed his fingers together as he watched the streets of downtown Minneapolis below him. It wasn’t just the dance instructor. It was also the tile rep who flirted with Abbey every time he came in. Sloan caught the bastard sitting on the corner of her desk, smooth-talking her at least once a week. And his beautiful lass enjoyed every second.

  When he confronted her, Abbey would just shrug and remind him that the guy would do anything, even run naked through the streets, to supply their complexes with tiling. The commission had to be huge.

  Sloan huffed. Run through the streets naked for all I care. Keep your hands off what’s mine.

  A voice through the speaker of the phone distracted him from his musings. “Sloan, Agent Dunham is here with the instructions for the latest mission. He’s setting up in the conference room.”

  Sloan sighed. “Thank you, Ashleigh. Inform the rest of the team please.”

  “Already have.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. I can always count on you.”

  “Yeah. Remember that when I ask for two weeks for my honeymoon.”

  Sloan laughed. “I will.”

  “Good.”

  The speaker went out, leaving Sloan alone in silence once more. He slowly stood then stalked across the office, throwing open the door. With a polite nod to both assistants, he made his way through the open-air corridors of Sloan Enterprises to the conference room.

  Agent Mike Dunham, tall, gangly, with salt-and-pepper slicked-back hair, was carefully setting sealed files on the table when Sloan stepped inside. Gordon, Robert, Bartholomew, and Abbey were already seated and waiting to begin.

  Sloan fought back his smirk. Just as he had commanded, his beautiful bride was showered and changed into her business suit, her skirt showing just the amount of leg he liked. She frowned at him as his gaze met hers. She may be angry, but she still obeys me. Sloan pulled free a chair across from her and took a seat. “Where’s Logan?”

  “The courthouse, filing paperwork for the Dallas complex. He’s on his way back,” Gordon informed.

  “Should we wait?” Agent Dunham questioned.

  “No, we’ll catch him up. Begin,” Sloan answered.

  “This mission is fairly simple. There’s a USB drive in a vault in Prague. Your files have the details. Get it. Bring it back.” Agent Dunham glanced at Sloan. “This is a test run for a bigger mission.”

  “Like the three you’ve already roped us into weren’t?” Robert quipped.

  Agent Dunham shot him a condescending smile. “All warm-ups. We see potential in this team.”

  “A team you’re blackmailing with Sloan’s citizenship,” Gordon snapped, his brogue irritated.

  “How soon do you need it?” Sloan interrupted.

  “The sooner, the better,” Agent Dunham answered.

  “Fantastic. Gordon, Robert, Bartholomew, Logan, and I will leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Whole team. Abbey included. You’ll need a sniper.”

  Sloan snarled. “Fine. We leave in the morning. And our transportation?”

  “Please not a cargo plane,” Robert moaned.

  “I’m sorry our accommodations don’t match up to your high standards. Let me know when you get back with the drive.” The CIA agent shut the file in front of him.

  Sloan stood, glowering at Dunham, then stormed from the room. If the whole mess with Abbey hadn’t ruined his mood, having to obey the whims of Agent Dunham made it worse. He didn’t take orders well, especially from a stuffed suit that rarely saw the danger he put his charges in. Having the skills that he and his associates had at the agent’s beck and call made Dunham power-hungry.

  He didn’t stop until he reached his office and dropped into his chair. Taking a few minutes to calm his temper, he reached again for his phone and hit the speaker. “Ashleigh.”

  “Yes, O Great One?”

  Sloan couldn’t help but chuckle. “When your husband returns, please send him to see me.”

  “Of course. I had a feeling you would need him. Where are you dragging Logan off to now?”

  “Prague. And I promise he’ll come home safe.”

  “Good. I’ll let him know. Anything else?”

  Sloan stared out the door. It was bad enough that he was being thrown into a dangerous situation. It would be worse if he wasn’t at peace with every member of his team. He sighed. “Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day. Cancel Abbey’s too. We’re going home. I suggest you and Logan do the same. In fact, send a message to the whole team that they’re done for the day. Non-negotiable.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thank you.” Sloan shut off the speaker then stood. He crossed the foyer between his and Abbey’s offices and leaned against the doorframe of hers. He silently watched her work. She never once noticed him standing there. She is simply the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth. After several moments, he spoke. “Abbey, let’s go home.”

  She looked up at him, clearly irritated. “Oh. I’m Abbey now?”

  “Do we have time for this?”

  “You tell me. Not too long ago I was Abigail, and you couldn’t even look at me. Now, I’m Abbey, and you’re all tender and loving.”

  “I’m still mad. No one, and I mean no one, gets to put their hands on you but me.”

  “So, what’s changed?”

  “What’s changed is that I’m not about to charge into Prague to obtain that USB stick with us at odds. Too much can happen. I want us on the same page.”

  Abbey cocked her head. “How sweet.”

  Sloan strode to her, sitting on her desk. He tenderly cupped her face in his palm. “You’re the most important thing in my life. If anything should happen to one of us, and it very well could, I don’t want our last thought of each other to be angry. I love you, Abbey. You’re my breath and my soul.”

  Abbey slipped her hand up his arm. “I love you too, Sloan. You know that. And you need to trust me. I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. What you saw today is innocent. It’s just a routine for a competition. You’re the only man I want.”

  He smiled. “I need to go over the mission with Logan, but then let’s go home and spend some time with our children.” He leaned over, parting her lips with his. He felt her melt into his kiss as his tongue knotted with hers. When they broke apart, he saw the dreamy look in her eyes. Ah, yes. This lass will always be mine.

  “I’ll finish up what I’m working on. Let me know when you want to leave,” she murmured.

  “Aye, luv. It should only be a few minutes.”

  “All right.”

  They both turned as Logan popped into the doorway. “I heard we’re going to Prague.”

  Sloan pressed one last kiss to Abbey’s lips then stood. “Yes, we are. Let’s go to my office, and I’ll fill you in.”

  “Sweet.”

  Sloan rolled his eyes. Stopping at the door, he shot Abbey a sly, sinfully sexy smirk. She waved to him with a laugh. He softly chuckled as he left the room.

  »»•««

  Sloan glanced around the ballroom. In nearly every situation in his life, he felt calm. He was never excited about anything. He had complete and utter control. It was the code he lived by—control.

  Except here in Prague. Here, he was in utter chaos. Here, he was seventeen and running for his life with a father figure he detested. Here, he’d earned his money with his body by having sex for top dollar. Here, he’d had his heart ripped from his chest just when he’d star
ted to understand what love was. This place had built Sloan O’Riley, but he wasn’t excited to be back.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. A warm brogue, one also intimately familiar with this place and its drama, breathed in his ear. “Do you know who we’re looking for?” Gordon asked.

  Sloan chuckled uneasily. “Unfortunately, yes. Leave it to Angelique to get herself tied up with high crime and espionage.”

  Gordon laughed. “Dangerous men seem to be her cup of tea, don’t they? Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Sloan stepped into the crowd on the dance floor, with his sights on the bar occupying the opposite side of the room. He would need a stiff drink to get through this night. Or a dozen for that matter. It would be bad enough to face Angelique. She had been the closest he had come to romantic love before Abbey. She may have paid for sex with him, but what he thought they shared was love. Maria coerced him into selling his body to her then shared him with the other women. They’ll be here. They’ll all be here. The women who treated me like a plaything, who ruined every concept of love and intimacy I had. The most vile terrorists can’t give me nightmares. Those women do.

  He didn’t get more than ten feet when his arm was caught. He turned to see who his captor was. He found a pair of perfect, big blue eyes watching him.

  “I knew you would come back to me.”

  Sloan took a deep breath. So much for that drink. “Hello, Angelique.”

  “Hello, Tom. It’s Sloan now, isn’t it? I’ve missed you.”

  “It’s been over twenty years.”

  “It’s been too long.” She ran her fingertips across his chest. “No man has compared to you. No woman must have compared to me either. I figured out your new name. I kept tabs on you jumping from one to another.”

  “Angelique—”

  She put her fingers to his lips to silence him then pressed her body against his. “Hush, my love. Let’s find someplace quiet and make up for lost time.”

  “Well, hello there.”

  Sloan’s gaze shot to the other side of him as Angelique huffed. “Who are you?” she demanded, her thick French accent pitching high.