by Zoe York
As he watched her, her need spiked, but rather than bringing them together, Cruz stroked her body in broad, sweeping caresses, his rough fingertips against her skin leaving her nearly breathless. And then, finally, when she didn’t think she could wait a moment longer, he pushed into her with one strong thrust, his cock filling her completely.
Once he was fully seated, he captured her gaze again, and they lay connected, body and, Nola thought, heart.
She clenched her walls around him, unable to stop her smile at the sound of his huffed-out breath. But then he moved and all thought fled.
He thrust over and over and over again until Nola could think of nothing but Cruz, the feeling of being with him again. And, her eyes locked with his, she held him tight as together they reached their climax.
Later, as she lay wrapped in his arms, he smiled down at her.
“What?” she said.
“I can’t believe you thought I wasn’t coming back. I’m back, Nola. For you. Because I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” she replied on a low whisper, her heart stuttering with the emotion that filled her chest.
Then she kissed him with her entire heart and soul before she pulled back and stared into eyes that shined with love.
“Are you staying here?” she asked.
He smiled. “Actually, I heard Cambodia is nice in spring,” he said.
“My bags are already packed,” she replied.
••••
Vientiane, Laos
Saint and Ace sat side by side at the bar, quiet among the noise that surrounded them, each man lost in thought.
“So where are you headed now?” Ace finally asked.
“Wherever the job takes me,” was Saint’s reply. “You?”
Ace looked around the bar and then settled his gaze on Saint.
“I think it might be time to go home.”
••••
Find out what happens when Ace goes home in What You Least Expect, and see what Saint is up to in Ultimate Capture. Both are coming soon, so sign up for Lydia's newsletter for news about her releases! Until then, the first four books in the Thornehill Springs series, Two Weeks in Geneva:Books 1-3, Where You Least Expect, Who You Least Expect, and When You Least Expect are out now! And check out the Playthings series! Devil’s Plaything, Demon’s Plaything, and Elah’s Plaything, out now!
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COVER ME
LEIGH JAMES
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GENRE: Billionaire Mercenary Adventure Romance
DESCRIPTION: An Installment in The Liberty Series, Leigh's Sexy Action-Adventure Romance Series
Matthew Riley is determined to leave his dangerous mercenary lifestyle behind. But when he takes what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation to the Yucutan Peninsula with his wife Meredith and their friends, he discovers that he can't afford to leave his job behind, in more ways than one...
Turn the page to begin reading Cover Me, or click here to return to this anthology’s Table of Contents.
— PREFACE —
He sat against the wall, facing out, and pulled out a knife. The walls of the Mayan ruins felt like they were closing in on me as I watched him sharpen it. The light was starting to finally fade, but I could still make out the outline of the soldiers patrolling the ancient stone steps, waiting.
Waiting for anyone who might be on their way to rescue me.
From trouble. Again.
If I ever made it out of here, I was going to be in some trouble with my husband.
Again.
My captor sniffed in disgust. “Americans,” he said, watching his blade. “I wish our countries were further apart—you annoy me. Always pretending to be helpful and to do the right thing, when all you really do is buy our cheap goods and our drugs and then blame us for ruining this part of the continent. Hypocrites.” He spat. “You and your hybrid cars and your McDonalds. You make no sense. You think our country’s a mess? Huh?”
He worked on making his knife sharper.
I wasn’t sure why he was doing that, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to find out.
Still, that didn’t stop me from opening up my big mouth. “Um…sir?” I asked. “I don’t personally buy your country’s cheap goods or drugs. And I don’t blame your country for our continent’s problems. Although I would probably have second thoughts about vacationing here again. But the ruins are fabulous.”
He looked up from his knife with a furrowed brow and scowled at me.
I gulped. “I’m just saying. Sir.” Sometimes, as in most of the time, I didn’t shut my mouth when I really should.
“You know what else I don’t like about Americans?” he asked.
I shook my head. No. But I had a bad feeling I was about to find out.
“They think everyone’s entitled to an opinion,” he said, and the last thing I saw was his rather large, dirty fist, on its way to punching me out.
— ONE —
LIBERTY
“Wouldn’t it have been nicer just to send them on a vacation by themselves?” I called to John. I was packing our things for our trip while he was in the shower.
“Nah,” John called back. “I want you to get to know Meredith better.”
“Why’s that?” I asked and folded John’s bathing suit. I smiled happily as I put it in the suitcase; the thought of my smoking-hot husband shirtless, his enormous pectoral muscles on display, always put a smile on my face.
“Because when we get back, Matthew and I are going on assignment. And I want Meredith to feel comfortable coming to you if she needs anything,” John called.
My smile turned to a frown. I stalked into the bathroom. It was too steamy to see his naked body through the glass door of the shower, but that was probably a good thing—I was pissed right now, and if I saw him without his clothes on, I would probably just get all lusty and confused and start twirling my hair, and then we’d end up in bed, and—
“John,” I said, snapping myself out of it. “What did you just say?”
“That I want you and Meredith to get to know each other better,” he called. I looked at my watch. John’s showers usually took five minutes, tops. He’d been in there for six.
I was pretty sure he was hiding from me.
“I heard that part. What did you say after?”
“That Matthew and I are going on assignment.” His tone was offhand, but I knew my husband. He’d been waiting to spring this on me. He’d timed it right down to the extra minute in the shower, an hour before we were supposed to leave on our trip.
“What assignment is this?” I asked. “And why the hell am I just now hearing about it?”
He turned the water off and sighed. I handed him a towel without looking at him; looking at him would only get me confused and in trouble right now.
And right now, it was John’s turn to be in trouble.
“Babe,” John said. He came out of the shower with the towel slung low over his hips. I turned away from his chiseled chest and those annoyingly tantalizing divots right near his…
“Babe,” he said again.
“What?” I asked, grumpy for all sorts of reasons.
“We’re doing a job in Minnesota for a week or two. It’s nothing. I thought I already told you,” he lied.
“Don’t even try that,” I said. “You know you haven’t said a word.”
He sighed again, took the towel off his waist, and started drying his hair with it; I refused to look at him. At all of him. Because then I wouldn’t be mad anymore, and he’d win by distracting me with his big…
“Liberty,” he said, interrupting my wayward thoughts again. “You’re right. I didn’t. I didn’t want you to get upset.”
“Because you think I won’t like Minnesota?” I asked, a threatening edge to my voice. “Or for some other reason?”
“Because you’re not coming on this next assignment,” he said gently.<
br />
“Hell yes, I am,” I said and stormed out of the bathroom. I kept packing, but it was no longer a neat and organized process. It was now angry and haphazard.
“Babe.” He came out of the bathroom without the towel, clearly trying to defuse my anger with the sight of his penis.
“Put that thing away,” I snapped and threw some shorts at him. He sighed but obeyed. He knew better than to mess with me right now.
“This case is dealing with some organized crime informants. We’re going to be doing surveillance around the clock in freezing Minnesota. We’re probably going to be shooting people. It’s not exactly your idea of a good time.”
“Since when have any of your assignments been my idea of a good time?”
“Liberty,” John sighed. He didn’t speak again until I looked up at him. “I don’t want you coming on this trip. Having my wife in danger, when she could be safe at home, is not my idea of a good time.”
“You promised me,” I said, my voice dangerous. “I don’t take well to broken promises.”
“Babe. Do you think you can balance your distaste for them with good judgment? And common sense?” John asked, exasperated and most likely exhausted by me.
I gritted my teeth and threw some of my own bathing suits blindly into the suitcase. At this rate, I would probably only have bikinis to wear on this trip and nothing else.
But maybe that would work to my advantage.
I stopped and put my hands on my hips, glaring at my husband. “A promise is a promise. Babe.”
John pinched the bridge of his nose, never a good sign. “I know you don’t want me to treat you like a child,” he said, “but it would really help if you would stop acting like one.”
I gaped at him. “No. You did not just say that to me.” John was older than me—by sort of a lot—but I’d been very clear that the only treatment I would accept in our relationship was an equal one.
I clenched my fists, and John eyed me warily. “That probably wasn’t the best choice of words,” he mumbled, instantly contrite. “But I’m tired of you insisting on going on these jobs. I’m tired of worrying that you’ll get killed all the time. I can’t handle it.” He looked at me miserably.
“Well, that’s exactly how I feel about you,” I said, going back to packing and trying to calm down. We only ever had one fight, and this was it: whether or not we were going to keep up John’s mercenary business, and whether or not I was going to be a part of it. We had come to a simple standing agreement. If John went on assignment, I went with him. If, in the future, we had a child, we were going to stay home and manage the business side of things. Together. John had never been thrilled with this arrangement, but it was a rickety peace that we’d both come to accept…or so I’d thought.
“We had an agreement. Remember?” I asked. “After our last assignment?”
Our last assignment had been a bit of a nightmare. We’d hacked through the jungles of Malaysia, and we’d scuba-dived in the Gulf of Thailand, hunting for our suspects. The jungle and the Gulf were a challenge—but once we caught up with the smugglers we’d been after, they’d proved to be much, much worse.
When we’d gotten back from that assignment, barely intact, John and I had another heart-to-heart talk about the business and my role in it. I held my ground. I told him that if he was going on future assignments, I was going on future assignments.
He’d just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You don’t need to go on routine jobs like this,” John insisted. “Matthew and I can handle it. You’d be helping me by staying here, looking after the business.”
“You know you can’t leave me behind.” I blew out a deep breath. “Please.”
John gave me a long look. “I don’t want to leave you behind. But I don’t want to lose you more.”
“I’ll stay in the hotel,” I lied.
“Babe,” he said, “you suck at lying. But I look forward to having you at the hotel.”
He pulled me to him, and I kissed him, hard, so he couldn’t backpedal.
— TWO —
MATTHEW
“It’s a vacation,” I said, my voice insistent.
“Then why are you packing so many guns?” Meredith asked.
“Because I want to relax,” I said. I smiled at her in a way I hoped was roguish and appealing.
She looked at me like I had nine heads.
“I don’t want to be worried that I don’t have everything I need,” I said, my voice defensive and a little pleading.
She sighed and rolled her eyes at me, carefully refolding her bathing suit top and placing it in the suitcase. This was our first adults-only vacation since we’d had kids. Our son, Wes, was five, and our new baby, Lily, was eight months. I didn’t want to ruin our trip, but I had to pack my guns. I needed my guns.
We were meeting my boss, John Quinn, and his wife, Liberty, in Mexico. Watching Mer deal with my boss was going to be an adventure in and of itself. She had a few issues with my job. Something about me getting shot at all the time.
“The only things you’re packing are tank tops and guns,” Meredith said, exasperated. She wrinkled her nose and looked at the suitcase. “You know I love the tank tops, but… aren’t we going to have a hard time getting multiple firearms through security?”
“Nah,” I said, grabbing some more tank tops and folding them neatly. “John knows a guy who works at airport security down there. We’re flying private, anyway. They’ll just let us through. No worries. But I’ll take them out if you want.” I removed the guns—all except for one—and went over and kissed her on the forehead in an attempt to make peace.
“John always knows a guy,” she said. She made it sound like that was bordering on being a bad thing.
“John does always know a guy,” I said. “That’s why he’s fun to work for.”
Meredith looked sour for a second, but I watched as she put on her game face, good girl that she was. “It’s awfully nice of him to fly us to Mexico,” she said, sounding conciliatory. “And to pay for the whole trip.”
I locked the extra guns in the safe and then stuffed a bathing suit into our suitcase. “John owes me,” I said. “I had to babysit his crazy daughter on our last assignment. Trust me—I earned this trip.”
I was looking forward to seeing John. We’d met in the Navy. After he left, he started his own security company, Quinn and Son Enterprises. He’d made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and I’d been with him ever since. I was a retaliation operative, which was really just a fancy term for a rugged, muscle-bound, ex-military soldier acting as mercenary for hire.
And yes, the term “rugged, muscle-bound, ex-military soldier” was one I had coined myself. And I was sticking to it.
“Plus, he wants us all to spend some time together. I think he wants you and Liberty to be friends. When we get back, we’re probably going to be pretty busy at work… it would be good for you girls to be able to talk.”
Mer winced and tried to hide it. “I thought he was considering winding up the business,” she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral.
“I was gonna wait to talk to you about this.” I looked at my wife, her pretty face drawn tight. The playful splash of freckles across her nose contrasted with the worried look in her eyes. “John’s decided he’s not ready to retire yet. But we’re going to be really careful about the cases we take from now on. I don’t want you to be worried. Hopefully, they’re going to be mostly domestic. Easy stuff.”
“Matthew, nothing you’ve done has ever been easy.”
She had a point. Back when I was in the Navy, I’d been shot—twice. Since I’d been with John’s company, I’d been all over the world, chasing bad guys. I’d been injured many times. It was dangerous, adrenaline-surging work—and I loved it. On top of that, John paid me very well. Mer and I could never have afforded our own home, our own security system, and private school for our son if I’d had a different job. We lived comfortably off my income.
&n
bsp; “Honey, we’ve been over this. Again and again. If I change jobs, everything changes. No more house, no more private school, no more you staying home with the baby. We’d both be back to work full time, not making enough to ever get ahead. You know that, right?”
“I know that. And I love what you’ve been able to do for our family—but I love you more. If you aren’t safe, my world doesn’t make sense.” She paused for a beat and looked up at me. “And my world doesn’t make sense most of the time.”
I pulled her to me, leaning down and kissing her pale-blond hair. She started to pull back. “We have to get going,” she mumbled. “We have to get the kids to my parents’.”
“I’m not letting go until you calm down,” I said and crushed her to me.
“I’m calm,” she said. It came out muffled against my chest.
“What’s that?” I asked playfully and held her tighter.
“I’m calm. And I love you,” she said.
“Good. And I love you, too.” I slowly let her go. “Finish up with your stuff. I’m gonna get the kids ready.”
“Matthew,” she said as I was about to go through the door. “It’s okay, but it’s not okay.”
I should have been expecting that. I sighed. “I know.”
“But?” she asked, because when it came to my job I always had a but.
“But I need to take care of my family.”
“You can’t take care of us if you aren’t alive,” she said.
“I know,” I said. Her words cut me. “I torture myself about it every day.”
I headed down the hall to my kids, so I could wake them up and snuggle their little bodies close to mine. And torture myself about my job some more.
— THREE —
