by Lili Valente
Harley looked up, meeting his gaze as he continued to circle his hips, her heart stretching out its arms and falling into his eyes, knowing this man would always be there to catch her. “I know you are. Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me,” he whispered, eyes shining. “I should be thanking you. For our beautiful baby. And our amazing little man. And the fact that I get to wake up every day and feel…whole.”
He swallowed, his throat working as the air between them filled with something far more powerful than simple lust. “I never imagined I could have a life like this. That I could be so in love that everything feels possible, just because you’re here with me.”
Harley blinked, sending tears slipping down her cheeks. “It’s the same for me. Every single day.”
“Then I don’t want to hear you say another ugly word about yourself,” he said, his rhythm between her legs becoming more urgent. “You never have and never will be anything but beautiful. Now come for me, let me watch you, let me see.”
Harley held his gaze, fighting to keep her eyes open as pleasure consumed her for the third time, washing over her and sucking her under, rolling her through the darkness. But she wasn’t scared because Clay was there with her, calling her name as he began to move, drawing out her release until it was a thick rope binding them together. Until her third orgasm bled into her fourth and Clay came with her, his cock jerking deep inside her and his breath hot in her ear as he whispered words of love that her pleasure-drugged mind couldn’t make sense of.
But she didn’t need sense. She already had everything she needed, right there in her arms.
Chapter Seven
Clay
They lay twined together, the sweat cooling on their bodies, his fingers skimming up and down the soft skin of her back. They didn’t talk, but they didn’t need to. Everything had already been said.
Clay could feel the difference between them, a lightening in the air that made each breath come easier than the one before. They had found their way back to each other, the way they always had and always would.
And soon, their family would be safe and they would only worry about the things normal people worried about. Like how Will would ride out his first cold and whether or not Jasper would end up in the same class with his best friend for first grade.
“But I’m not sure we’ll ever be completely normal,” he murmured aloud.
Harley pressed a kiss to his chest. “What did I miss? I’m not as good at reading your mind as you are at reading mine.”
He hugged her closer. “Just thinking about the future and how nice it will be to be living a simpler life.”
“It’s been pretty amazing so far,” she said, fingers curling around his hip. “And I’ve got a feeling things are only going to get better from here on out.”
“I like it when you have feelings like that,” he said, hoping she was right.
Either way, he didn’t regret the things he’d kept from her. Learning that someone had sent a hit man after her husband when she was six months pregnant, right as she was starting to feel safe again after the nightmare with Marlowe, would have made the end of her pregnancy as stressful as the beginning.
He hadn’t wanted that for her or the baby. He and Jackson had both decided to keep the attempts on their lives from their wives, the better to give the sisters a shot at the normal life they’d both been denied for so long. Knowing Harley, if she’d learned about the attack, she wouldn’t have stopped digging into the shooter’s background until she found the same clues he’d found, the ones that had led him right to Stewart Mason’s door.
He’d wanted to spare her that, too. She already knew that her father was a ruthless son of a bitch, but trying to kill the father of his daughter’s children before the second one was even born was an ugly new low, even for Stewart.
Better for Senator Mason to be put away for one of his many other crimes—the sooner, the better.
Which meant Clay had a phone call to return ASAP.
“We should probably get cleaned up,” he said, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “Our reservation is in half an hour.”
“Shit! I had no idea it was that late.” Harley bolted into a seated position, snatching her underwear and bra from the end of the bed. “Give me ten minutes, then you can jump in the shower with me if you want.”
“Nope.” Clay stretched his arms overhead, admiring the view as she scooted off the bed and bent to retrieve her dress. “I’m going to stay sticky. I like knowing I have you all over me underneath my clothes.”
“I know this about you,” she said, shooting him a narrow look over her shoulder. “And I still can’t decide if that’s romantic or disgusting.”
“Romantic,” he assured her. “Now be quick, woman. I’m starving.”
“Like a bunny,” she said, pinching his toe on her way by, making him smile.
But the grin faded as she circled around the bed and out of his line of sight. It was time to make a call that might ruin the rest of their night, but it couldn’t be helped. Austin, the man he had tailing Stewart, had been given strict orders not to make contact unless it was an emergency. Clay had already put him off for an hour—Austin had texted just as he and Harley were checking into the hotel.
Time to find out what Stewart fucking Mason was up to now.
Clay waited until he heard the bathroom door shut and the water turn on before pulling on his clothes and reaching for his phone. He hit the call button and stepped out onto the lanai, where the ocean breeze should keep his conversation from being heard if Harley was faster with her shower than usual.
“This better be good,” he said when Austin picked up.
“It’s not,” Austin said, confirming his fears. “Stewart’s gone, and so far I haven’t had any luck tracking him down. It’s like he vanished off the face of the earth.”
Clay’s brows drew tight together. “Gone? How is he gone? You were supposed to be following him.”
“I did. I tailed him to his house three days ago. Once the car went into the garage, it never came back out again, and there’s been no activity on the helicopter pad or any other vehicles coming into or out of the estate.”
He frowned harder. “Then how do you know he’s gone?”
“It’s not like him to stay put for that long,” Austin said. “Last night, I started to worry that I’d missed something so this morning I had Kent bring me the thermal imaging goggles. There are four people in the house, instead of the usual five, and all of them are too small to be Stewart. I don’t know how he did it, but he ditched me.”
Clay cursed softly before glancing back into the hotel room. Harley was out of the bathroom, letting her hair down from its clip and slipping into her dress.
He turned back to face the dark ocean. “Keep looking for him. And let me know as soon as you have any leads. I’ll touch base with my associate, see if he has any information, and text you whatever I find out. I probably won’t have time to call again tonight but contact me if there are any developments.”
Clay ended the call and shot Jackson a quick text—
We’ve lost eyes on the mark. He’s on the move, but we don’t know where. Let me know if you have any leads for my guy and keep close tabs on everyone there.
Only a few seconds passed before Jackson texted back—
Will do. I’ll reach out to my people and be in touch. Try to enjoy your night. Nothing is going to happen to Jasper or Will on my watch.
“What’s up?” Harley asked, slipping her arms around his waist from behind.
She’d been so quiet, he hadn’t heard her coming, a fact that disturbed him more than it usually would. Harley had a soft step and years of practice sneaking around, but he didn’t like anyone taking him by surprise, not when Stewart was obviously up to something.
“Just checking in with Jackson,” he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Making sure the boys are doing okay. He said everything’s fine.”
Harley lau
ghed as he turned in her arms.
“What?” he asked, unable to keep from returning her smile. He was worried, but she was beautiful and it felt like forever since he’d seen that particular grin on his wife’s face. It was her wicked grin, the one that meant he was in for a night filled with the best kind of trouble.
“Nothing,” she said, wrists linking behind his neck. “You’re just cute. The big bad former spy who can’t go more than an hour without checking up on his kids.”
“It’s been an hour and a half.” Clay let his palms wander down to cup her bottom through her dress and gave a squeeze. “And I’m still big and bad. I think I just proved that, Mrs. Hart. But if you need a reminder, I can drag your fine ass back to bed right now.”
She laughed low in her throat, an unabashedly sexy sound that made Clay’s cock thicken in his pants. “Tempting, but if we don’t get going, we’ll miss our reservation. And someone I know said they were starving.”
“I’m never so hungry I’ll pass up a chance to fuck you.” He leaned down to capture her mouth for a long, sweet kiss that was about to take a turn for the not-so-sweet when she pulled away and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Later,” she said softly. “Let’s go eat. I want to take you out and show you off without worrying about cutting up someone else’s meat or making them eat their vegetables.”
He smiled. “Jasper is great about eating his vegetables.”
“Yes, he is. But you know what I mean.”
“I do,” he said, fingers twining through hers. “Let’s go, build up our strength for round two, three, and four.”
Harley laughed and a few moments later they were out the door, wandering hand in hand along the dimly lit path leading back to the heart of the resort.
Clay kept his posture loose and his gait easy, trying not to give away how eager he was to be somewhere less isolated. The privacy he’d been so grateful for an hour ago suddenly seemed like a liability, something that would make it easier for Stewart or his hired thugs to get in, do their worst, and get out again without being observed.
You’re being crazy.
No one knows where you are, not even your parents, and you used a fake name when you booked the charter flight from Tahiti to Samoa.
If Stewart’s sudden disappearance has something to do with you—and there’s no reason to believe it does—he’s going to need a lot more than three days to track you down.
The thought was rational, reasonable, and should have been comforting. But as he and Harley joined the line of people waiting beside the tiki-torch illuminated entrance to the resort’s five-star restaurant, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. He’d spied on enough people during his years in the CIA that he had a sixth sense when the shoe was on the other foot.
As he turned to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead, he scanned the crowd behind her. There were people gathered at the poolside bar, an ever-thickening crowd spinning on the dance floor, and couples sipping drinks in heavily cushioned cabanas scattered throughout the darkness, shadowed by plantings designed to afford privacy. He didn’t notice anyone who seemed to be paying Harley and him obvious attention, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
The Malolo’s midsummer luau was one of the biggest parties on the island and the resort was packed with visitors and locals enjoying a balmy tropical night out.
The crowd was so thick that a sniper could hide in plain sight, biding his time until he could pick Harley and Clay off like fish in a barrel.
Clay tried to banish the thought, but when the hostess showed them to a table in the center of the outdoor restaurant, he shook his head and motioned to another at the edge of the seating area. It was darker and offered no view of the lagoon, but it was most definitely out of the line of fire.
Better safe than sorry, and better paranoid than dead. Those were his mottos and he was sticking to them until he knew that Stewart Mason was locked behind bars.
Chapter Eight
Harley
What part of “big news” and “we need to meet” don’t you understand?
Harley glanced down at her phone, forcing her expression to stay impassive as she let it drop back into her clutch.
Fucking Dominic.
He had a gift for contacting her at the absolute worst times. If she didn’t know better, she would think he knew when she was alone with Clay and was deliberately trying to expose the secrets they’d both been keeping for the past year.
Dom and Clay certainly weren’t friends—Dom hated Clay with an intensity he didn’t bother to hide, and Clay thought Dom was a creep who had taken advantage of Harley during a vulnerable time in her life—but the two men did occasionally brush elbows on the job. Six months ago, Dom had become a CIA informant, striking a deal to pave his way back to life on the right side of the law. He continued to haunt the fringes of the criminal underground while supplying Central Intelligence and the FBI with the information they needed to take down some of the big name bad guys he had worked for in the past.
Men like her father, though Dom had agreed to keep his mouth shut about Stewart until they had Mallory safely in hand.
They needed Stewart free in order to track his communications with the man who “owned” the girl. A year ago, Dom had been close to locating the half sister Harley had never met, but days before he was due to raid the compound where she was being held, Stewart had arranged for Mallory to be moved. Since then, her father had kept her captors on the move and Dom struggling to play catch up.
But maybe now he had caught up. Maybe that was the big news.
Harley picked up her glass of white wine, taking a long sip of the cool liquid, curiosity getting the better of her. She had to get Dom to spill the beans over the phone, no matter how paranoid he was about his calls being tapped.
Her phone buzzed again. Keeping her expression relaxed, she slipped her hand into her purse and tipped the screen up.
So put down your wine, excuse yourself from the table, and meet me behind the bathrooms by the kiddie pool. This won’t keep.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
Holy shit. He was here, somewhere out there in the darkness.
Watching her.
She set her wine down a little too hard.
“Who’s that?” Clay asked, still scanning the menu he held. Thank God. If he’d been looking at her face when she read that last message, he would have known instantly that something was up. She wasn’t nearly as good at hiding her emotions as she used to be.
She was going soft, a fact that didn’t bother her most of the time, but right now it sure as hell did. The old Harley would have had her guard up and her feelers out. She would have been scanning the crowd for potential predators instead of dwelling on how handsome her husband looked with the candlelight playing across the planes of his face.
“Hannah,” she lied. Explanations would have to wait until after she put out this fire. She had to get to Dom before he did something crazy. If he’d followed her to Samoa, he was clearly off the rails.
“She said it wasn’t urgent and not to worry,” Harley continued, pulling her napkin from her lap and placing it beside her bread plate. “But I should step out and call her anyway. She wouldn’t have texted twice unless she was worried about something.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, setting his menu down.
“No! Don’t be silly. Hold our table.” She scooted her chair back. “And if our waiter comes back, order the fish for me. I don’t care what the fresh catch is, I’m sure it will be amazing.”
Clay frowned as she stood. “Are you sure? Maybe we should hold off on ordering until we know we’re not needed at the house.”
Harley waved a hand through the air. “I’m sure we’re fine to stay. Hannah would have called if it were a real emergency.” She forced a smile, hoping it was too dark for Clay to see the pulse hammering at her throat. “Order another glass of wine for me, too, will you?” She winked. �
�I plan on getting a little drunk and letting my husband take advantage of me.”
Clay’s eyes flashed. “That sounds like an excellent plan. But be careful, okay? Don’t step into any dark corners. Parties like this can get dangerous after the liquor’s been flowing.”
“I will.” She leaned across the table to press an impulsive kiss to his cheek, silently promising that she would tell him everything she’d been keeping from him the second she was sure Mallory was safe.
Right after she gave Dom free rein to deliver her father’s criminal history to the CIA wrapped up in a nice little bow.
“Be right back,” she whispered before turning and weaving her way across the patio. The restaurant’s awnings were rolled up tonight in a nod to the lovely weather and every table in the place was filled with people laughing, drinking, and canoodling under the stars.
As Harley passed the other tables, she let her gaze slide from one face to another, certain none of these happy, sunburned, half-wasted people had ever worked for a drug lord, had their father threaten to do terrible things to their son, or spent a year fighting to save their half sister from human traffickers. These were ordinary people, who took their safety and right to pursue happiness for granted. They didn’t go to bed worried for the lives of their family.
But then, they probably didn’t wake up feeling breathlessly grateful for another day, either. For all the misery her father and Marlowe and all the other dark forces from her past had caused her, they had also made her grateful for the miracle of an ordinary life.
She treasured every moment she spent walking Jasper to school and helping with homework, loved spending Sunday afternoons at her in-laws’ farm playing baseball in the backyard, and lived for lazy mornings making pancakes while Clay, Jasper, and baby Will snuggled on the couch watching cartoons. Since her return from the dead, prices of her old artwork had tripled and her new pieces were sold before she could even finish them, but it wasn’t money or fame that made her smile when she woke up every morning.
