by Lea Griffith
“The four names belong to four National Security Council members, including Chairman Giles,” Allie said.
King had been wrong. She didn’t have a bomb; she had a goddamn nuclear weapon. Four members? Holy Christ.
“I would ask one thing,” Allie said loudly, her father standing beside her.
“Yes?” Morton prompted.
“I would ask that justice be served, and I would request an inquiry into the events that led to the prosecution of Kingston McNally, Jonah Knight, Anthony Granger, Harrison Black, Chase Reynolds, Brody Madoc, Ella Banning, and Jude Dagan.”
“Done.” Morton hadn’t hesitated, which led King to believe Allie and her father had given the man prior knowledge of today’s clusterfuck.
“Woo-hoo!” Vivi squealed before she jumped into her man’s arms. “I didn’t think she’d do it. I hoped, but I wasn’t sure. She must love your mean self a shit-ton, McNally, to risk her ass that way.”
King stood then, fear racing through him. He was about to lose control. She’d gone to bat for him. He’d walked away from her, and she’d stood up for him…hell, for his entire team.
There wasn’t anything else to do. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Chapter 33
Allie punched in her security code, told her two bodyguards good night, walked into her apartment, and immediately stepped out of her shoes. She’d moved into this secure brownstone a week ago and still wasn’t used to it. She loved her father, always would, but she couldn’t see him everyday. Not yet.
The brownstone was completely modernized and as safe as one of Endgame’s safe houses. She needed a pet or something…hell, anything to break the relentless emptiness of the sprawling apartment. She liked having her own space, but it was…lonely. She kicked her shoes to the side of the door, set her purse down, and locked the door behind her, setting the passcode.
Today had gone much better than she’d anticipated. It was another step toward freeing King and his men. She’d also partaken of a little “get-back” on one of the men who’d sold her out. Lo-Lo was still out there. Dresden was still out there, but Giles was sitting in prison. The other three senators were in the midst of heavy scandal and inquiries. Now, if she could get her hands on the person pulling their strings…well, things would definitely be looking up.
What she’d endured at Savidge’s hands would haunt her for a long time. She shuddered at the thought and rubbed her hands over her arms.
Yeah, the bad guys were still out there, but so was King.
She missed him.
She poured a big glass of red wine and unzipped her skirt before she headed to her bedroom. She changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top before she picked up her wine and walked to the huge, empty living room.
She sank onto her only piece of furniture in the space, a huge leather couch, and sipped her wine, watching the lights of the city twinkle and wishing.
Wishing did no good, so she grabbed another glass and had just reached for the remote when a knock sounded at her door. She set her glass and the remote down, hurried to her bedroom and grabbed the SIG Sauer someone (a.k.a. Kingston McNally) had sent her the day after he’d left.
She chambered a round and flipped off the safety.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s me” came the voice she’d been missing so much.
She rested her forehead on the door. “Who’s me?”
“Open the door, Allie,” he demanded.
She frowned but did as he ordered. Then she stood there, door barely open as she peeked around it. “What do you want, McNally?”
“Open the damn door, woman.” Exasperation flavored his tone.
She stepped back, her body going molten as he walked into her apartment like he owned it. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, McNally?”
“I saw you today,” he murmured, his green eyes burning as he caught her gaze and refused to let it go.
“I imagine a lot of people saw me today. That was the purpose of my visit to the Hill,” she responded as she walked past him into her living room.
He smelled so good—evergreen and mint. She was mad at him for leaving her. She wanted him. She loved him. If the time away from him had done anything, it was to cement the latter. It wasn’t adrenaline that kept her awake at night.
It was need for him. Those barely there smiles and the varying tones he used to get her to do what he wanted.
“Nobody has ever done for me what you did for me today,” he said gruffly.
She sighed.
He grunted.
They seemed to be back where they’d started.
“So you saw me. That’s nice,” she said inanely.
“No, I mean I saw you,” he said again.
“We still playing games, Kingston McNally?” she asked as ire wound through her body.
He shook his head and then shrugged out of his leather coat. He was wearing a black long-sleeved T-shirt and low-slung jeans.
“I’m done playing games, Redding. I’m all in with this one,” he said firmly as he stepped out of his boots and pulled his T-shirt off.
Allie stepped forward, drawn by invisible strings of love and lust. She licked her lips.
“Yeah, do that again,” he murmured.
She did. Hey, her mouth was dry. “What are you doing?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Staking my claim.”
“You left, McNally,” she murmured.
“I had no choice. Important thing is, I came back.”
“Not good enough,” she returned.
He made a beeline for her, scooping her up and over his shoulder and heading to the couch. King placed her gently on the leather and came down over her. He grabbed both her hands in one of his and settled in the cradle of her hips.
“Don’t say that, Allie,” he ordered.
“Well, what should I say, McNally?”
“Anything but that,” he said.
“Let me go, McNally,” she demanded.
“Say my name, Allie.”
“Let me go, King.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she said immediately.
“You stood up there today, in front of the entire nation, and demanded that people look into what happened to Endgame.”
“I think you’re exaggerating. Not that many people watch C-SPAN,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I’m not leaving,” he told her.
She squirmed beneath him, desperate to either get out from under him or get naked with him. “I don’t want you to,” she told him.
“I’ve got a lot to learn, Allie. I’m a tough man, and I really don’t think I’m good enough for you. But you’re mine. I’ve claimed you, and you’re mine.”
She was going to call that his you’re-never-getting-away-from-me tone. She could dig it.
She nodded. “I missed you.”
He dropped his forehead onto hers and stared into her eyes. It was the most poignant moment she’d ever experienced. He was hers; she just had to show him.
“More than McDonald’s fries and mani-pedis?”
His hips rocked against her as his heat sank deep into her bones. She cocked her head and played like she was giving it some thought. “Fuck, yes,” she whispered.
He groaned, and she knew then that he was going to be hers and she was going to be his. There was still so much to deal with. Endgame was not out of the woods by a long shot, and she knew he’d be leaving on future missions. Dresden was still a huge worldwide threat, and so was whoever wanted Endgame Ops wiped off the face of the earth.
And this man she’d claimed was always going to fight for good because it’s who he was.
“We have got to work on your language. You know what that word does to me,” he said harshly.
Sh
e smiled, felt it echo as a song in her soul, and said, “Yeah, I really do.”
He lifted off the couch and picked her up. “This is just the beginning. What you did today has stirred the hornet’s nest. They’ll be gunning for Endgame even harder, looking to eliminate us. I can’t believe you did it,” he bit out as he dropped his forehead to hers. A deep sigh, and then he squeezed her. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I’ll do the same for you, King,” she said against his lips.
It was a promise that circled between them.
Then she laughed as he tossed her on the bed and followed her down. She’d landed the man with the lick-me-all-over lips…Mr. LMAO himself.
Ba-da-da-da-daaaa—better than her french fries, and she was loving it.
Epilogue
Jude adjusted his scope’s sight and settled down in the slight depression between two trees. The wind had picked up an hour ago, and he allowed its bitter cold to seep into his soul. It was soothing to a degree, though Jude doubted anything could ever completely cool his rage. He’d been here for two days, following intel that would hopefully lead him to…her. He’d stopped even thinking her name six months ago. The sound of it reverberating through his mind caused unbearable pain that spread from his heart through every limb. It was debilitating, that pain. And unending. Instead, he remembered her face, the way her body had once moved beneath him, the promises she’d made that had inevitably been nothing more than lies.
Movement in the compound below had him tightening his grip on his rifle. He’d been trained to take down targets a mile away, but today was simply reconnaissance. When he’d seen her in Beirut six weeks ago, his mind had denied what his heart had immediately recognized.
El—her.
Then she’d disappeared in the smoke and confusion, and he’d had no choice but to leave her again.
In the desert of Lebanon.
A white Range Rover pulled up to the concrete warehouse that had once been a chemical engineering facility. Rumor had it that the facility’s purpose was to conceal Horace Dresden’s biochemical weapons stash. Whatever the case, those rumors had hit Jude’s ears and his skin had prickled.
If he could find Dresden, he’d find her.
The left-side passenger door opened, and a dainty foot encased in a nude stiletto heel lowered to the ground. The leg attached to the foot had his gut clenching. He’d tasted the arc of that calf, tongued the indention of that knee, and had his hands all over that thigh.
She stepped out of the Rover completely, and his clenched gut released. Everything in Jude relaxed. It was a reaction he’d only had with her. Jude was a warrior, a soldier. He’d spent most of his adult life training, fighting, and killing. He was damn good at what he did. Had never even realized something was missing from his life until she’d stepped into his sphere and taken him over.
The wind caught her overcoat and tossed the ivory folds, allowing him a glimpse of a body that was thinner than he remembered but no less captivating. Through the scope, his gaze trailed upward over her hips and then higher across her breasts and up along the slope of her collarbone. Her skin was the same color as her coat but softer, glowing. Her taste was a phantom on his tongue.
The trees above him bowed to the wind, and in his spot on the ridge above the compound, Jude breathed in deep. He swore he could taste her on the breeze. She moved to shut the door and, in an instant, froze.
She slowly lifted her hand and removed the dark sunglasses that hid the frost of her gaze from him. And then she angled her head toward his location.
His heart locked in his chest. No way she had any idea he was here. He hadn’t even told King where he was headed—had kept the information about Dresden’s supposed compound from the Piper, King, and his teammates. This was what he’d been reduced to. Spying on a woman who’d betrayed him…betrayed them. Desperate for a glimpse of her.
The wind settled at that moment, but still she gazed up toward him. The man who’d gotten out of the Rover on the other side must have called her name, because she glanced at him and her lips moved before she began walking toward the building. Her long legs ate up the distance between the Rover and the building, and for a crazy second, Jude remembered her as she’d been the night before his world had been blown to hell. He saw her walking on their beach in North Carolina, the wind whipping her long ebony hair, the waves playing havoc around her delicate ankles. He saw her head turn as a grin broke across her face. He saw the flush of their recent lovemaking on her body.
A hawk screamed in the distance, and Jude was jerked to the present. Instead of seeing his woman through the sight of the scope, he saw her. A stranger. A traitor.
Jude’s sight remained locked on her, his finger caressing the trigger as he let the anger flow through him. He’d heard the whispers—maybe she was a double agent. Maybe she wasn’t the traitor he knew her to be. Maybe she was both and neither.
Maybe he hadn’t given everything he was to a ghost.
He needed the truth, and he’d resolved that he’d have to be cold and merciless in finding it. She’d led them on this path. She could damn well walk it with him.
The man entered the building, but before she stepped in behind him, she once again turned her gaze to Jude’s location.
She couldn’t see him, but for Jude, it didn’t matter. She knew he was there. He knew she knew. She raised her hand—supplication or warning, he didn’t know—but the sadness that passed like a cloud over the contours of her face in that moment had him swearing.
Then she lowered her hand as the soft curves of her mouth lifted in a travesty of a smile.
Jude cursed again, the wind taking the foul word and tossing it to and fro. As she moved out of his sight, his gut clenched again. King had warned Jude that all was not as it seemed, to give him time to figure it all out.
Jude hadn’t been inclined to give himself that time. Until this moment.
Because there’d been one other emotion on her face just now that ripped a hole right in Jude’s heart. He’d seen it many times over the course of their year together but had despaired he’d ever see it again. It had been the truest of all the emotions she’d ever displayed with him.
It was the one thing that stayed his trigger finger. It was the only thing that could save her.
Love.
About the Author
Lea Griffith has been reading romance novels since a young age. She cut her teeth on the greats: Judith McNaught, Kathleen Woodiwiss, and Julie Garwood. She still consumes every romance book she can put her hands on, and now she writes her own compelling romantic suspense. Lea lives with her husband and three teenage daughters in rural Georgia.
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