by Lora Leigh
“And pop the bastard if we get him in our sights,” Joker, the explosives expert of the team, spoke up. He wasn’t joking. This particular terrorist commander was brutal, without mercy. He wouldn’t be shown any.
As Reno opened his mouth to dismiss the men, a sharp knock had his head lifting as the door opened.
“Major Chavez, we have a situation that demands your presence,” an MP snickered from the doorway. “General says now.”
Frowning, Reno nodded to Ace as he handed the files to him to distribute to the other three men and made his way to the door.
“Situation?” he asked warily.
“Situation, sir, of a very delicate sort.” The MP nodded, amusement dancing in his eyes. “This way, sir.”
As they neared the general’s office, a frown worked between Reno’s brows at the sound of an irate female voice.
“General, I don’t care how busy he is. You were my father’s best friend and I’m not above pulling strings. If I don’t see him before he leaves in the morning, I promise you, I’ll be making a visit to your wife, your daughter, and your son. They like me.” The voice was husky and filled with feminine fury.
He heard the general’s voice, low, soothing.
“I’m not in the Army, General,” she said. “I don’t need rules quoted to me. I need strings pulled. I want to see him. Now.”
A grin tugged at his mouth as the MP chuckled.
“She’s been ripping on the general for an hour,” he whispered as they neared the door. “Want to bet he chews on you next?”
Reno grimaced but something in his heart was loosening. He wouldn’t bet against the MP, but he would bet it just might be worth it.
He knocked on the door lightly.
“Enter.” The general’s voice was frustrated and clipped.
Reno stepped in, saluting smartly, then turned to stare at Raven.
She was cuddling the puppy he’d bought her like a baby. Her face was wet with tears, her deep, deep blue eyes filled with misery.
“Raven?” He stepped toward her, pulling her and the puppy into his arms as he stared back at the general. “What’s happened?”
“Major, I’ll leave you to talk to Miss McIntire.” The general sounded stern, but Reno caught the soft look he cast at Raven. “We’ll talk later.”
“Yes, sir.” Reno nodded as the general left the room and he turned his attention to the pup wiggling between them.
“Raven? Baby? The puppy is going to be smashed,” he whispered as he gripped her arms, pushing her back enough to release the wiggling little mass. “What’s wrong? Is Clint okay?”
The tears rolled silently down her cheeks. There were no sobs, just a hitch in her breath as she stared up at him.
“I forgot.” She hiccupped then. “You left, and I forgot to tell you.…”
She shuddered as her voice broke.
Reno moved to the couch, pulling her to his lap as she cuddled against his chest.
“I love you,” she cried desperately. “God help me, Reno. I don’t want to lose you. I can stand anything but you leaving, maybe being … hurt…,” her breath caught, “and not knowing I love you.”
Reno closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her, his heart exploding with joy. She knew she loved him. That was all that mattered.
“It’s okay, baby,” he groaned, kissing her forehead gently as her head tilted back, the wealth of long silken curls flowing over his arm. Her hand lifted to his face, her lips trembling as he wiped the tears from one silken cheek.
“You knew all along, didn’t you?” she whispered then. “That I loved you.”
“All along,” he agreed with a smile.
His lips lowered to hers, moving over the soft curves, nibbling at the damp softness as the feel and smell of her sent his senses rioting.
“Hell, if I fucked you in the general’s office, he would court-martial me for sure,” he sighed, smiling down at the seductive softness in her expression.
“Yeah. He probably would.” Her smile trembled, but it was still there.
“Wait for me, Raven,” he growled, his voice husky, deep, knowing every day away from her would be hell. “I’ll be home. Wait for me.”
“Always, Reno.” She kissed him. Her head raised, her lips moving against his with incredible passion and loving heat. “Always.”
chapter 9
three months later
“you are in so much trouble.”
Reno tossed his duffel bag to the corner of the bedroom as he stalked inside the room, his brows lowered into a dark frown as Raven reclined back on the bed, her knee bent, her naked breasts thrusting forward in invitation as his hot gaze raked over them.
Damn he looked good. The camouflage pants made his legs look sexy as hell, planted apart as they were, the bulge between his thighs filling out the front of the material.
“Oh really, Reno, it wasn’t so bad.” She rolled her eyes at his miffed state. “It was just a little present.”
She restrained her smile as he dug his hand into his pocket, no small feat with that erection tightening the material. Her mouth watered at the sight of it. He had been gone for nearly two weeks this time. Too long as far as she was concerned, and she was wet and hungry for him. The adult toys he had been so kind as to teach her to use the last time he was home did little to bank the fire that thinking of him caused.
She blinked as the small velvet box landed on the bed beside her. She almost had to bite her lips to keep back her smile.
“Is this a proposal?” She arched a brow as she glanced back up at him.
Oh yum. He was undressing. There went the shirt, revealing the golden expanse of his chest, muscles rippling beneath the sun-darkened flesh.
“I’m going to spank your ass,” he grunted as he bent to unlace his boots. “Do you want to know where I was when that box dropped out of my duffel bag, Raven? I was in the middle of communal quarters, sweetheart, with three different teams. Can you imagine the fun those men had at my expense?”
She lifted the box, opening it, and grinned at the sight of the wedding set she had found in his dresser drawer just before he was due to leave. The short letter she had wrapped around it was missing.
Who’s hiding now? she had written.
He had been so very careful of their relationship over the last three months, never pressing her for anything, but she had seen how he had steadily cemented his presence into her life.
His clothes now shared space with hers. His guitar was residing under her bed, and his prized trophies from high school and college had made their way to her small shelf downstairs. He even had his own computer desk for the laptop he often worked on. This was his home. He hadn’t asked to inhabit it, he had just moved in, just as he had taken her heart, a little bit at a time. But he never mentioned taking it further, never pushed her, though she could tell he wanted to.
She looked up as his pants cleared his hips and his erection sprang free. Thick, the broad head flushed to a near purple hue, it looked intimidating, ready to conquer. She was more than ready to be conquered.
“Turn over,” he growled.
He had that intimidating, dominating look on his face now. The one that made her cream furiously and made her blood pressure shoot through the roof. She loved it when he looked like that, and she loved what resulted.
“Do I look crazy to you?” She flipped the box closed as she watched him mockingly. “Why buy the cow, Reno, if you’re getting the milk free? I think perhaps you should sleep in the spare bedroom tonight. Better yet, Morganna’s not having any parties this weekend. Maybe she can spare a bed.”
She moved to get off the bed, knowing the game and loving it. She saw that twinkle in his eye. The happiness that tugged at his fiercely controlled lips and the lust that flushed the hard cheekbones of his face.
Her feet barely touched the floor when she felt his arm hook around her waist, dragging her back to the bed as he flipped her onto her stomach in one smooth, economical move.
She screeched in mock protest, struggling against him as she felt his muscular legs bracket her, holding her to the mattress.
A second later, his callused palm landed on her rear with stinging force. Heat whipped through her buttocks, sizzled along her nerve endings, then down to her clit with vicious force.
“Reno, that’s cruel and unusual treatment.” She bucked against his hold. “There’s laws against this.”
He smacked the other cheek, causing her to wiggle fiercely as her vagina began to ripple in desperate need. Damn him, he knew what this did to her.
“Your proposal sucked, Raven,” he drawled lazily as another blow landed, making her moan at the border between pleasure and pain.
“It beat yours,” she cried out, pressing back, feeling the tip of his erection as it slid against the crease of her damp thighs.
He was hard and hot, and her body was starving for him. She pressed back again, moaning heavily as two more strikes landed on her upraised ass, making her clench at the fire blooming there.
“I was wooing you,” he half snarled.
He was always like this after a mission, more dominant, so eager for her that he took her breath away.
“You call that wooing?” She was panting now. His hips shifted, pressing his cock against her eager entrance as she fought for that first hard thrust. “I could die an old maid waiting on you.” The next smack landed with burning force on her ass as she felt her womb contract almost violently.
A second later, her back arched as a hoarse scream tore from her throat. The full, heavy length of his cock surged inside the slick, tight confines of her vagina, triggering an explosive climax that left her shaking in reaction, shudders of pleasure vibrating through her entire body.
“Oh, you’re not done yet, baby.” He slid free of her, flipped her to her back, and lifted her legs as his head lowered.
His tongue attacked the sensitive folds with ravenous greed, licking around her straining clit as his murmurs of approval hummed against her flesh. Deep, penetrating thrusts of his tongue had her lifting her hips in supplication moments later, only to have him retreat to torture the burning nub above once again.
He was voracious. A sensual, sexual demon intent on draining her of every last vestige of resistance against him. Not that the resistance was anything more than feigned. She loved this side of him, provoked it often, and gloried in his possession of her.
She could feel her heart hammering against her chest as her hands lifted from the bed, her fingers moving for the aching tips of her breasts, knowing he was watching. It inflamed her all the more to know that she could push him over the edge, that she could make him as crazy with need as he made her.
He was her lover, her heart and her soul.
She pinched at her nipple as she heard him groan roughly, tugging at the tender points as her eyes opened, her gaze meeting his as his tongue circled her straining clit. He would make her come again, make her scream for him. He always did.
She could feel perspiration gathering on her body as the heat inside her began to build. Her muscles tensed, her breathing became broken whimpers of agonizing need until his mouth covered the erect little clit, his tongue flickering as he sucked it firmly.
She screamed for him as she exploded. Rocketing into the stars with a force that left her dizzy as she felt him thrust inside her, hard and deep, penetrating her to the very core before his hips began to move with furious thrusts.
It didn’t take him long. The need was too great; the absence had been too long. He pushed her into a final, exhausted orgasm before giving in to his own, groaning harshly as he buried inside her, his cock jerking in reflex as he spilled his semen in the gripping depths of her pussy.
Seconds later he collapsed beside her with an exhausted sigh, pulling her to his chest as they both fought to bring their breathing under control.
“I need coffee,” she muttered sleepily, burrowing close, her hand going to the scar on the right side of his chest.
The bullet he had taken there could have taken his life if it had been a few more inches toward the center. It had been a close call. A terrifying one, but she had survived it without recriminations. When he came home, she had babied him and loved him, and treasured every day she had with him after that. She vowed she would never waste their lives as her mother had hers.
“Coffee hussy,” he chuckled into her hair. “What do you do when I’m gone?”
She breathed out pitifully. “I suffer, Reno. It’s a tragic, horrible sight to witness. Poor Morganna even feels sorry for me.”
She shivered as his hands caressed her back, one running low to her hips before smoothing over her buttocks.
“You’re marrying me.” His voice suddenly hardened. “Notice, I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”
“I already proposed, big shot. You dropped the ball. Remember?”
He grunted at that. “Minx. The men are still laughing over that note you left. Don’t you know I’m fearless? I never hide.”
“Coward.” She yawned, unconcerned, nipping his chest as her lips closed. “Do you know how mad I got when I found that box? It’s a good thing you were getting ready to leave that day or I might have had to hurt you.”
He gripped a handful of hair, tugging her head back as she stared up at him, her legs smoothing across his as she felt his erection growing, pressing against her lower stomach.
“I love you, Raven,” he whispered then, his voice no longer filled with amusement, his gaze velvet soft as he watched her. “Forever.”
“You took a hell of a chance, Reno,” she whispered. “I didn’t know myself how much I loved you. What if I hadn’t realized?”
A smile curved his lips. “I would have fucked you into submission.”
She rolled her eyes, one hand pressing against his shoulder as though to push him away.
“Get serious.”
“Withheld the coffee?” he suggested darkly.
She stared up at him in some concern then. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh yes I would have,” he growled. “But more importantly, I wouldn’t have given you a moment’s peace. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t let go of what’s mine.”
He kissed her then, a kiss filled with promise, heat, and magic as her heart dissolved within her chest and flowed into his. It wouldn’t do him any good to let her go, she thought, because she had no intention of releasing him.
“I love you, Reno,” she whispered against his lips again. “Forever.”
for maggie’s sake
chapter 1
maggie samuels was pale. Too pale. The freckles across her creamy cheeks and along the bridge of her nose stood out clearly, emphasizing the frail, delicate look of her features. Her lush lips trembled, her wide green eyes were shocked and filled with unshed tears.
And he wanted to save her. Joe Merino stared through the two-way glass, his hands pushed into the pockets of his slacks as he watched Maggie wrap her arms across her chest and stare unseeing back at the detective questioning her. Detective Folker had been questioning her for hours.
Her husband had been dead less than a week, a husband who had supposedly adored her. Who lived for her. The same man who had supposedly been Joe’s friend. And now, Maggie’s life was being threatened as well. Because of that same man.
Joe knew he shouldn’t give a damn. From all accounts, she had gotten herself into this; he should let her get herself out of it. That’s what his head was saying. His heart was saying something different. His heart was assuring him that there was no way Maggie was involved. He had slept with this woman at one time, held her in his arms, and watched her as she climaxed. The woman he had known couldn’t be cold-blooded enough to be involved with this. But then again, he had never suspected for a second that Grant was part of Fuentes’s organization. That he had helped rape and torture many of the young women that Fuentes had kidnapped.
And now, here he stood, days after Grant’s death, trying to harden himself
to the threat that someone else he cared for could be involved in the horror that that operation had turned into. That his own life could have become such a mess.
He had let his bitterness, his distrust of women after his wife’s deceit and death five years ago, stand between him and the woman he knew belonged to him. Hell, he had known it at the time. Each time he thought of forever with Maggie, the memory of Bettina’s death hung over him like a haunting specter. She had died leaving him. She and her boyfriend, high on drugs, had run the car they were in over an embankment, killing them both. He hadn’t been able to hold on to the woman he married, the woman who swore to love him. And two years later, there he had been, falling in love with Maggie.
Joe watched Maggie now, his jaw clenched, his back teeth grinding, as the past threatened to swallow him. Two and a half years before, Maggie had belonged to him for a few short months. But he hadn’t taken what he knew could be his. Maggie had walked out of his arms, and months later had walked into Grant’s.
The problem was, he hadn’t stopped loving Maggie.
He stared into the interrogation room, fighting to ignore the tightening of his chest, the regret and the rage and the lust. He had been fighting the lust for two and a half years. A hunger that never slept, that never eased, for a woman he could never have again. A woman who, it appeared, was involved in her husband’s illegal activities.
He ignored the gut-clenching feeling that she couldn’t be involved, that she was innocent. It was the same reaction he’d had when he began to suspect there was indeed a mole within his team. He had begun the investigation on all the team members, except Grant. He had shared his suspicions with his friend, discussed the best way to flush the traitor out. And Grant had sympathized, become angry on Joe’s behalf, and pretended to help.
God, he had been a fool. Just as he was being a fool again, wanting to believe in Maggie when the evidence against her was mounting.
“Mrs. Samuels, your husband was working for Fuentes,” Detective Matthew Folker told her, not for the first time, his plump face and hazel eyes appearing almost kind as he watched her. “Your neighbors have seen him.” He pointed to Diego Fuentes’s picture. “As well as his nephew Santiago Fuentes, and his brother Jose, at your home. Surely you overheard something?”
