A Kiss of Revenge (Entangled Ignite)

by Natalie Damschroder

  After Griff showered and lowered himself gingerly onto the bed, Reese showered, too, then dressed, packed, and settled near the window to watch the street when she wasn’t watching Griff. She woke him after two hours.

  “I’m okay,” he told her groggily.

  “How’s your head?” She stroked his hair back, careful to avoid both the lump on his forehead and the crease at his temple.

  “Griffin Chase, Chase Investigations, we’re in the hotel on the island of lost dreams, and I have no fucking idea what godforsaken time it is.” He rolled to his stomach and wrapped his arms around the pillow. “Come to bed.”

  “I will.” But he was already asleep again, before he could call her a liar.

  Fear kept her awake. That was what she told herself, and it was true, but not the way she pretended she meant it. The streets stayed empty and quiet, and the thin walls of the hotel carried no ominous sounds of pursuit. She stayed awake in case that changed, in case Chris’s people decided to tie up loose ends. But even if she’d felt physically safe, she wouldn’t have slept. Wouldn’t have been able to lie down on that bed next to Griffin. She craved his arms around her, yearned for him to tell her everything was okay. Which was ridiculous, because everything was the opposite of okay.

  They had to take precautions, just in case Chris’s gang went to the police, but for all intents and purposes, her quest was over. She’d gotten her revenge, ensured she had a future.

  But now that future loomed directly in front of her, a massive, unknowable void, instead of the ephemeral “someday” she’d been putting off for a year. She was a widow again, and single.

  Free.

  She and Griff could overcome the things she’d said to him to push him away, to keep him safe. He understood, and now he was safe. But would he still want her? After all she’d done?

  Slowly the sun rose and the town stirred, but all activity looked normal. No one came into the hotel this early, and only one group left, a family of four outfitted for fishing off the rocks. But the hotel was the first place the police would look for them if anyone at Smuggler Sam’s called the cops, so she reluctantly woke Griff again.

  Within half an hour they were in the back booth of a café on the corner furthest from the police station, hunkered down to wait out the hours until they could catch a flight. The airport would be the second place the police would look. Any restaurant or public area would be on the list, too, but with only two officers on the force, maybe they would overlook their “hiding” spot.

  “I doubt Chris’s people will report it,” Griff assured her as she scanned the room and the street outside for the tenth time in as many minutes. “They’re crooks. They don’t get involved with law enforcement unless they have to, and in this case, they don’t have to. They can get rid of the bodies on their own.” His demeanor shifted subtly from calm to hard on the word “bodies.”

  Her heart had never risen from its last sinking, but when she saw the change, it managed to find the space to drop again. He’d hardly spoken to her all morning. She could guess what he was thinking, but she refused to assume. They’d talk about this.

  “Griff,” she started, but he gave a quick shake of his head. Someone walked by on the way to the bathroom.

  “Not here.” He drank some coffee and flipped the newspaper over to read the stories below the fold. She went back to peeking out the window onto the side street, watching for unusual activity.

  “There you are. I’m so glad I found you.”

  Reese jumped, alarm spiking as she spun, trapped in the booth. How had she not heard someone approaching? But it was Kimmie.

  Reese pressed her hand against her chest. “Holy crap.”

  “I’m sorry.” The young woman looked haggard but not scared. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Sit down,” Reese offered, sliding closer to the window, earning a sharp look from Griff.

  Kimmie shook her head. “No, thank you, I’m okay. I just—”

  “You’re fully exposed in the window,” Griff told her, and Reese tugged her arm until she sat. On Reese’s side of the booth, the café’s lettering on the window obscured them from the outside. On Griff’s side, the window ended halfway between the table and the back of his seat, and he held the newspaper to block the only open angle. But where Kimmie had been standing was dead center open glass, and she’d have been visible to anyone who glanced in.

  “Sorry. But it’s okay.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I went to the police station first thing this morning and filled out a report for a stolen bike. It took a while. You know paperwork.”

  Reese smirked at the humor—and smarts—she never would have expected from the nanny. Kimmie caught the smirk from the corner of her eye and let her own lips curl a little, but kept her face averted from the window—facing Griffin. Reese squelched the stupid little spurt of jealousy. She had far bigger things to combat than Kimmie’s flirting if she was going to be with Griff.

  “So I hung out for a while in the station. You know they only have two cops.” She waited for them to nod. “They talked about horses.”

  Alarmed, Reese repeated, “Horses?” How was this okay?

  “Some kids took a couple of horses on a joy ride from Windy Dunes.” She glanced at Reese, then away again. “It’s the third time this month, if you can believe it.”

  Her mouth dropped open. No way she could be that lucky.

  Could she?

  “I guess the teenagers on this island get as bored as any others, and there aren’t any cars to take joyriding. They always go for the biggest, but the sheriff says if they really wanted a thrill, they’d take Comanche, a high-strung Arabian. They keep telling the owner of the stables to install an alarm system, but she pooh-poohs it. Anyway, I thought that was interesting. Then they laughed and started discussing lunch.”

  Reese glanced at her watch. It was barely nine in the morning. “I suppose they don’t have anything more pressing to discuss, then.”

  “Nope.” Kimmie leaned back and turned to her. “I don’t know how to thank you. That’s twice now you’ve saved me.” Reese started to shake her head, but Kimmie put a hand on her arm. “Don’t dismiss it. I know it’s true. But how did you know I was here, locked in that room?”

  “I saw the idiot drag you onto the plane.” Reese’s smile now was rueful. “I never would have been able to get on board if I hadn’t seen you. I was in a plane crash last year.” Kimmie gasped a little, and Reese went on, “That guy who was in charge of those videos? You know, the one who sent his goon to bring you here?”

  Kimmie nodded, her face hardening a little.

  “He was responsible for the plane crash.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “Is he…” When Reese didn’t volunteer anything, she elaborated, “Do I need to worry he’ll come after me again?”

  “No.” That was all she offered, but Kimmie nodded and loosened a little, as if relief had released her. “Okay. So— Oh! I almost forgot!” She dug in her pocket and pulled out the battered plane ticket and Reese’s license. “You’ll need these to get home. I can get my own.”

  She took them. “Thank you.” She hadn’t known if Griff would be able to purchase a new return ticket for her, if they’d have allowed her on the plane without ID. They’d decided to deal with it when they got there, but this one final obstacle was now eliminated. For some reason, it didn’t make her feel better.

  Kimmie thanked her again with a hug and left.

  Even after Kimmie’s news removed the fear of being discovered—by the police, anyway—the wait was excruciating. But it was nothing compared to the flight to the mainland. Reese had apparently conquered her panic with the flight over, because the anxiety never flared, and all the electricity stayed put. But Griff still wouldn’t talk to her—they sat in stony silence until the plane landed, and it continued as they walked to the long-term parking lot where they’d left their cars. The skies had clouded as the day progressed and loomed over them, gloomy an
d thick. The restless ocean pounded against the cliff, loud enough to muffle other sounds despite the distance.

  They reached Griff’s car first. He tossed his bag in the back and leaned his arms on the open driver’s door, using it as a barrier between them. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  She glanced around, but the few other people in the lot weren’t in hearing range. “About what?”

  He hitched his shoulders. “About everything.”

  She couldn’t even sigh. He wasn’t going to talk to her about what had happened on the island, and his reminder of everything waiting for her weighed her down so much her lungs refused to expand.

  “Make a list, I suppose. Follow up on the arrangements for Brian. File the insurance claims for the house and bakery.”

  “Are you going back there?”

  She glanced across the tarmac at the increasing whine of jet engines. “No. Maybe—if I have to. But not to stay.”

  “So you won’t be taking things up with Andrew.”

  She jerked her head back around, flabbergasted. “Of course not!”

  “Just checking.”

  “Griff—”

  “You’ve got a lot to deal with.” He straightened and stuck one foot into the car. “Call me if you ever get it straightened out.”

  His complete dismissal shocked her so much she burst into tears. Mortified, she buried her face in her hands and sank against the fender of his car. But then he was in front of her, folding her into his arms, shushing her, murmuring that it was okay.

  “No, it’s not okay.” She clutched at his shirt and gulped back the sobs ripping her apart. “I knew you’d feel this way, and I did it anyway. But I couldn’t let him come after you! I thought losing you alive would be better than losing you dead, but it’s not.”

  His hand stilled on the back of her head. “What do you mean, losing me?”

  She pulled herself together and leaned away, but he wouldn’t let go of her, and the car behind her kept her from moving. His body was hard against hers, but he seemed oblivious. “What do you think? You’re leaving me.”

  “I’ve got to get back to DC. I have a business there.”

  She flinched. “I know that.”

  He blew out a breath. “I’m not trying to be harsh. It’s just a fact. And I know you have a lot to deal with. I’m giving you space.”

  She finally looked up and met eyes that churned with emotion far too complex to try to read. “That’s…”

  “What did you mean about what you did, and how I’d feel?”

  “This is what I’ve been trying to talk to you about!” She wiped her face dry with her palms. “You knew I was considering dropping this whole thing. I couldn’t reconcile how I was starting to feel about you with killing Chris, because I knew you’d disapprove. Lose respect for me. You told me it was okay to let it go.”

  Griff shook his head, but she plowed on. “But then he came after me, and killed Brian, and I knew if he found out we were associated, if you got involved, he’d kill you, too. So I said all those horrible things after we made love, and…” Her throat closed, and she couldn’t swallow, never mind say any more.

  He stared at her, and she fisted his shirt in one hand and rested the other flat on his chest. Yeah, okay, blatant symbolism. Pushing him away and clutching him to her at the same time.

  “I wanted you to stop,” he agreed. His palms pressed against her back. “I didn’t want you to do the damage to yourself that killing does to people.”

  “But he gave me no choice,” she whispered. The tears threatened again. “I don’t have the right to ask you to forgive me—”

  “Forgive you? Reese, there’s nothing to forgive. You did what you had to do. Chris was about to shoot me. Hell, he did shoot me.” He touched the scab on his head. “You saved my life.”

  “Then why have you been acting so cold?” She sniffed and hated it. She hadn’t felt this childish and needy in years. “I’ve been trying to talk to you, but…”

  Now he released her and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You shouldn’t be making decisions about us right now. Your husband just died.”

  “Griff. He died a year ago.” The words shifted her back on balance, and hope took root. She knew where he was going, and knew how to handle it. “I mourned him then. Yes, there’s a new element to the loss, especially because of the surgery, but…honestly, Griff, I didn’t want to be with him anymore. It’s what tormented me the most about his surgery.”

  His eyes glowed, then dimmed. “I don’t know, Reese.”

  “You don’t know what?” she asked softly, one hand held out toward him. “I’ll tell you everything. My feelings? I love you, Griff. More than I’ve ever loved any man. More than I hated Chris.”

  Griff chuckled, but looked down and toed a loose rock on the pavement. Why was he being so resistant?

  “Is it what I did to Armen? That was self-defense, too. Mostly.” He shook his head, but raised his chin a little. Now he was looking somewhere mid-torso. “What I said to you about you being a distraction? That was the biggest lie I’ve ever told.”

  “I knew that. Or I wouldn’t have come to the island.” Up to her collarbone now.

  “Then it’s got to be that my life is such a big mess.” She gave up. Felt her whole body grow leaden. She had no answers for that one. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to drag you into all of that. And it’s not fair to ask you to wait for me while I settle everything.” A burning pain started low in her chest and rose up. She pushed away from the car and said quickly, before her throat closed again, “Thank you for everything, Griff.” It came out husky, but the last words were a squeak. “I do love you. Always will.” She started to walk away.

  “Wait.” He caught her arm. She was scared to look at him, but wouldn’t play his game. To her surprise and the easing of her throat muscles, the maelstrom of emotion seemed to have untwisted. “It’s not that I can’t handle your mess. I’ve been handling it for a year, right?”

  “Very funny.”

  He tugged her closer and put his arms around her again. “I’ve loved you for a year, too.”

  Her heart stuttered as hope and anticipation overtook despair and grief.

  “I’m more afraid of binding you to me when you don’t know what you want. You’re starting over again, and I want you to make your own choices. Not tag along on mine.”

  All the pain, fear, and loneliness slipped away, taking with them the heaviness of the tasks ahead. She’d thought she’d learned the lessons of her relationships, but now she finally, really got it.

  It wasn’t about being okay alone, or not losing herself in her spouse, or being the better person. It was, simply and obviously, about partnership, and how the right partner gave you strength.

  “Griff, you are my choice.” She pressed her hands to either side of his head and reached upward to give him one soft, tender kiss. “Everything else is just details.”

  His eyes were as gray and tumultuous as the sky, but they bore into hers as if he could see down to her soul. She didn’t flinch, letting him see anything he sought to find.

  “You have to be sure,” he said. “I don’t care how long you need to decide. I’ll give it to you.”

  Her mouth trembled, and she knew, with a conviction she’d never felt in her entire life, that she was sure. “Please, Griff.”

  His hands flattened on her back and slowly pressed until she was flush against his big, hard body. She shivered, remembering those brief, magical moments in the hotel.

  “Please what?”

  She could only mouth the word again as she tilted her face up and let her eyes close. His palm came up to cradle her head and his mouth met hers, hot and hungry. She opened to his tongue and gave him everything in one blazing kiss.

  The world opened up to her, full of promise, full of joy, full of strength and beauty, for the first time in her life.

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thanks to the members of CPRW at
the 2013 annual retreat who helped me brainstorm for this book, especially Delynn Royer and Ava Quinn, Queen of Badassery.

  This book would not be what it is today without input from a slew of people. All my original critique partners, too numerous and too far in the past to list lest I miss someone. The editors at Silhouette Bombshell, for putting me on the path to romantic adventure and inspiring this book in its original incarnation. The acquisitions team at Inara Press and Kassia Krozser of Quartet Press, for believing in this story and thereby helping me believe in it, too. I also owe a debt to Kassia for her original editorial input.

  And finally, thank you to Liz Pelletier for requesting the submission, to Kerri-Leigh Grady for orchestrating the connection to Entangled Suspense, and to Nina Bruhns for not only loving it, but for pulling out of me the book it was meant to be.

  About the Author

  Natalie J. Damschroder writes high-stakes romantic adventure, sometimes with a paranormal bent. Since 2000, she’s published 10 novels, 7 novellas, and 14 short stories, many of them exploring magical abilities, but all with a romantic core. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her perfect partner of a husband and two daughters who are so amazing, they’ve been dubbed “anti-teenagers.” Learn more about her at her website, www.nataliedamschroder.com, follow her on Twitter @NJDamschroder, or friend her on Facebook at /nataliedamschroder.

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