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Whiskey Creek Press
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Copyright ©2006 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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DEADLY BRIEFS
by
Felicia Forella
WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Published by
WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
Whiskey Creek Press
PO Box 51052
Casper, WY 82605-1052
www.whiskeycreekpress.com
Copyright ©
2006 by Lea Forella Moyer
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
ISBN 1-59374-639-3
Credits
Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston
Editor: Lynn Shuster
Printed in the United States of America
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
BLANCHE'S DESIRE
"Blanche's Desire is an extremely likeable, almost fairy-tale like book, by Felicia Forella that pulled me in from the first page. The whimsical touches and references to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs were ingenious."
Aggie Tsirikas
Just Erotic Romance Reviews
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
GHOST OF A CHANCE
"(Ghost of a Chance is) Truly an exciting romance that takes us back in time with these star crossed lovers where nothing can change the bonds of love. Love conquers all even death! Back in time Nick realizes that the real true love of his life is Bethany and she gives him a reason and the strength to live even after he is shot down in Nam. Don't miss this one it's a story that will show how deep the power of love is."
Louise Riveiro-Mitchell
The Romance Studio
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
THE PRINCESS AND THE O
"Unexpectedly delightful and wholly enticing, The Princess And The O will tease your imagination with a pleasure that is hard to resist. If you want a book that has incredible romance and suspenseful drama then The Princess And The O is definitely a must read book. Ms. Forella should be congratulated on penning a fantastic story that has characters that appear bigger than life, very well done."
Sheryl
Ecataromance
Dedication
For Betty—the best friend an author could have!
For Shawna and Rayne—just because.
Always in memory of Primula with love.
Chapter 1
Simultaneous explosions rocked Aiden Greene's world.
A flaming orange and red fireball erupted around him, knocking him flat on his ass. Or more appropriately, catapulting him away from the inferno. The impact whooshed the air out of his lungs and scattered his wits. Intense heat singed the hair on his arms and melted the plastic buttons on his shirt. It heated his watch until the band burned his skin, and the zipper of his pants scorched him through his underwear. Pieces of burning debris fluttered in the air around him. His ears hurt, the raging fire and subsequent popping aftershocks pained his sensitive eardrums. The burning rubber assaulted his lungs with every gasp of air.
Dear God in heaven, what the hell was going on? He flashed back to memories of war zones, when he'd been an intelligence officer in the United States Air Force. Except this wasn't some foreign country, this was the good old US of A and he'd just left his apartment to head to his office at the law firm to sneak in some extra time at work.
But all of that paled in comparison to the second shock to his system. A warm, feminine body pressed his to the ground. Long suppressed instincts, Air Force survival training from a lifetime ago, struggled to the surface as he laid prone on the asphalt with his eyes closed. Generous breasts bore into the muscle of his chest. Soft hips cradled an entirely different muscle, one much too happy, given the circumstances.
Her tiny hands searched his body with medical efficiency. She slid over him, her breasts bumping his chin. His mouth watered to sample the plump flesh through the layers of her clothes. Her fingers combed through his hair and checked his scalp before moving down his arms and sides. Her downward motion brought her hips in line with his again. Mr. Happy throbbed his thanks—it had been too long since he'd been even this close to a woman. Obviously, Mr. Happy didn't give two shits about the chaos and confusion surrounding them. The sudden strength in those hands surprised him as she prodded and pushed on his abdomen, then moved down his legs.
"Oh, thank God.” She straddled his thighs, his errant fantasies filled with visions of her riding him. “It looks like you were far enough away to avoid any serious burns. You just have some minor injuries."
That voice. He knew that voice.
Finally able to pry his lids open, Aiden found himself staring into the green eyes of Erika Dalton. The one that got away. Or more appropriately, the one he was too stupid to keep.
Ka-boom! A third explosion rocked his world. One that had nothing to do with flaming cars and raining metal.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm a little shaky.” Now that was an understatement.
"From what I can tell, aside from some cuts and some singed hair, you appear to be all right. Although you may be a little sore from the fall."
Not an iota of recognition flickered in her eyes as he spoke. He stared at her, willing her to recognize him. Even battered and barbequed, he hadn't forgotten a single thing about her. If anything, his memories failed him miserably. The woman perched over him was even more beautiful than he remembered.
What the hell was she doing here? In Ohio, on top of him.
"Come on. We have to get out of here. This place is going to be crawling with police and firefighters any second now.” Erika sounded tense. Well, hell, so was he.
She slung her leg over him and pushed to her feet in one smooth movement. She always had been as graceful as a dancer.
Extending her hand, she waited for him to get up. No sooner had his fingertips brushed her palm, than she began to tug him in the direction of the woods. Wait just one fucking minute. If she thought he'd just follow along behind her like some whipped puppy, she had another think coming. He clenched his teeth and remained on the ground, shifting only to a sitting position. She tugged harder on his hand, waging a losing battle.
"Whoa, honey. I'm not going anywhere with you until I know what's going on.” His car was lit up like a Fourth of July bonfire and he wanted details.
"I'll explain everything, I promise, once we're clear of here. Everything's been blown sky high, pardon the pun, and you're no longer safe."
"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on here. Do you even know who I am, or are you a good Samaritan who just happened to be walking by just as my car self-destructed?” He slowly pushed to his feet, more shaken than he thought, but he'd be damned if he'd let her know.
Her sharp intake of breath expanded her ches
t and pushed her breasts forward, a sight to behold. The glow from the raging fire bathed her face in warm tones, enough to allow Aiden to see the struggle on Erika's face. “Of course I know who you are. Do you think I just happened to be here right now? You're Aiden Cooper Greene.” She rattled off his Social Security number, his height, his weight, and his inseam. Ha! Showed how much she knew. His weight was off. “And your car was rigged to go off. With you in it."
"Excuse me? Who would want to blow me to hell and back? I'm a corporate compliance attorney. I bore people to death, I don't make enemies.” Every muscle in his body ached from the impact of the jarring fall. His head spun, but whether from meeting the asphalt or seeing Erika again, he had no idea.
"Do you know who I am?” She invaded his personal space for the second time in minutes, leaning forward and treating him to a glimpse of cleavage. His mouth watered.
He stepped closer, their toes touching, his voice dropping an octave. “I've never forgotten you, Erika.” He watched her stiffen and her breathing become shallow. Interesting.
"Then trust me when I say that we need to get the hell out of Dodge.” She wrapped her fingers around his and pulled.
This time, he fell into step behind her, his gut telling him to trust her. His head and every muscle in his body thanked him for the effort with a chorus of aches and pains. Noticing his slowed movement, she wrapped her arm around his waist and supported him as they fled toward the woods.
Once the trees separated them from the chaos, they sat down on a log and he was able to catch his breath. Aiden watched as the flashing lights of the police and firefighters joined the dancing flames from the fire. Halogen lights illuminated the dark apartment complex parking lot as the yellow-clad firemen raced around their truck, unfurling hoses and shooting water on what remained of his car. His brand new Saab sedan. The scene was surreal. He felt as if he were watching a movie. Erika's presence beside him on the log added to the sensation. He shook his head, hoping to snap back to reality. Now he knew how the witch felt when Dorothy's house landed smack dab on top of her.
"What happened back there?” His voice came out a cracked whisper.
"Miguel Ramos happened back there."
Aiden's blood chilled in his veins. His heart skipped a beat and then stopped all together. When it started pumping again, it hammered in his chest. Miguel Ramos, spawn of the devil, the man responsible for images that continued to haunt his nightmares. “The bastard is in jail. I put him there years ago.” A lifetime ago, when he'd been a counter-narcotics intelligence officer with the Air Force. The man who ultimately cost Aiden his military career.
"He escaped."
Surging to his feet, Aiden whirled and faced Erika. “Why the hell wasn't I told?"
She leaped to her feet and stared him down. With her eyes shot full of anger and her hair escaping her bun, she looked wild and menacing. A force to be reckoned with. In her form-fitting jeans and snug t-shirt, she looked even better than when they'd graduated from the Air Force Academy thirteen years ago. But she still wore her hair in that damn bun.
"You know better than anyone that everything having to do with Sonny is on a strictly need-to-know basis."
"So why the hell do you know?"
"I'm still with the Air Force Security Agency."
Oh. She was still on active duty with the Air Force. And he was an ordinary civilian. But still—"And the United States government didn't think I needed to know that Sonny was on the loose? Shit, I'm the man he threatened to carve into little pieces. In case everyone has forgotten."
"No one's forgotten. We've been watching you for a month now, Aiden. We thought you were safe."
A month. He'd been followed for a month and he hadn't even noticed. He raked his fingers through his long hair, pushing the strands from his face. His stomach clenched as he thought of Erika tailing him. Not that he'd done anything exciting or embarrassing. All he'd done for the past year was shuffle back and forth between his apartment and work, with weekly visits to see the twins thrown in. Still—
"Obviously, but despite changing my identity and being under surveillance for the past month, Sonny found me. How the hell did that happen?"
"That's what I'd like to know.” She sighed in frustration.
She could join the club. “What happens now?” Aiden paced in circles.
"The police declare you dead, for starters. And you thank whatever higher power you believe in that you used your remote starter or your family would be arranging a real funeral for what was left of your body."
"I can't be dead.” Oh, no. He did not like this scenario one bit. “I have an ex-wife and twins. I have a job. I have—” What else did he have?
"We have to shake Sonny off your tail and keep you safe until we can recapture him. Do you have any better suggestions?” She paced in front of him.
As much as he wanted to shake loose of her, to walk away from this nightmare and back to his life, Erika had a point. He didn't have a plan. He was going to have to trust her for now. But first—
"Can I at least let my ex-wife know I'm alive?"
"Absolutely not. I don't know how he found you, so I'm not taking any chances. Your phone call could lead him straight to her. Do you want to make her a target?"
Score two for Erika. Whatever it was she was doing these days for the AFSA, she was fast on her feet.
He didn't want to think about what his ex-wife would feel when the police knocked on her door. He'd never changed any of his legal papers, leaving her listed as next of kin, so everything would go to her first. He should have rewritten his will after the divorce, naming his parents. Given his ex's lack of feelings for him, she'd probably do a little jig when she learned she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. At least his parents would mourn him when they got the news. He didn't want to think about how the twins would react when he didn't come for his visit. They were only three, but Christopher and Samantha were always so excited to see their daddy.
Still, there was no way in hell he'd risk their lives to spare them the grief of his alleged death. His shoulders slumped as Aiden followed Erika, putting distance between himself and the crime scene. And his kids.
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All she had to do now was get him safely to her rental car. Her parked-way-too-far-away rental car. Damn, it hadn't seemed that far away when she'd left it there earlier in the day. At least the descending darkness helped conceal them, shielding them from discovery. As long as Aiden kept moving, they'd be all right. He hid his pain from her, but she knew he'd taken a beating. He winced with each step when he thought she wasn't looking in his direction, uncomplaining. Hell, she was sore, and she'd been the one on top.
Bad image.
The drive from Cincinnati to the safe house outside Wright Patterson Air Force Base should only take an hour and a half. A couple of aspirin, a steaming shower, and some ointment for his cuts would do him a world of good. Once inside the secure Air Force Security Agency facility, he'd be protected. From there, she'd arrange transportation for both of them back to AFSA headquarters at Bolling Air Force Base, outside of Washington, D.C.
With any luck at all, she'd be able to maintain her professionalism and objectivity long enough to see him tucked away safe and secure in the nation's capital. Heck, if they drove straight through, they'd be staring at the Washington Monument in less than ten hours. Then she'd plead her case yet again to the colonel to go after Miguel Ramos, instead of babysitting Aiden Greene.
For her piece of mind, she had to get away from him—the sooner the better. Tomorrow night would have to be “soon enough."
If she were really lucky, she'd manage to convince someone else to come and get him, and escort him from Ohio to Washington, D.C.
When she'd tackled him to the ground as his car exploded, her body remembered what her mind had spent thirteen years trying to forget. She'd put him behind her after graduation from the Air Force Academy; she'd moved on with her life, becoming one of the best damn officers, male or
female, in AFSA history. Seeing him again, feasting her eyes on his well-developed body, breathing in his unique scent, took her back to some of her darkest days. To a time when she'd chosen her version of her future over his plans for their future. Just that fast, all the memories flooded her senses.
It was part of the reason she'd argued against being the officer assigned to watch him, protect him, and bring him in if necessary. The other part was she didn't want to act as a glorified babysitter to a pampered civilian lawyer; she wanted to be in on the hunt for one of the most dangerous drug lords of all time. She'd lost that particular battle with her commanding officer, who wanted someone on the case that Aiden Greene would follow if it came to that. Her CO felt the odds of gaining Aiden's compliance were better with one of his fellow Academy classmates. If only the Colonel knew that she was the last person to whom Aiden Greene was likely to listen.
Unfortunately, Miguel “Sonny” Ramos made an unexpected move, leaving Erika little choice but to bring Aiden in for his own protection. His safety was no longer guaranteed with only a covert babysitter. He needed to be on a military installation.
How the hell had Sonny managed to plant a bomb in Aiden's car?
Erika had watched Aiden leave his apartment, probably to go to the office on a quiet Sunday evening, and press the fob that remotely started his car. It had been a nice car, too, a beige Saab with tan interior. Aiden had done well for himself since leaving the Air Force.
Then she'd smelled it, the telltale odor of sulfur and phosphates of a pipe bomb. She'd rushed Aiden to keep him from getting too close to the car, the explosion knocking both of them off their feet.
Landing her on top of his sculpted body.
Even now, tingles raced along her nerve endings at the thought of all that hard male muscle sprawled out beneath her.
The heat of his body so close to hers distracted her. She needed to concentrate on reaching the shopping center on the other side of the copse of trees. She tried to focus on the crunch of dead leaves and the night noises echoing around them. Anything to keep her from thinking about the ripple of muscles she'd felt when examining him for injuries, from remembering the fear she'd felt at the thought he'd been hurt.
The Class of '93 Trilogy: Deadly Briefs Page 1
