by Angel Payne
“This latest episode with Tan fleshed out a big concern on the part of the Joint Operations Special Command,” Tait went on. “Hawaii’s viability as an insertion point to the country, by any terrorist state or organization, can’t be ignored anymore. Think about the famous attack on Pearl Harbor. If the Japanese decimated us that thoroughly using nineteen forties equipment, think about the possibilities our enemies have today, with modern technology at their disposal.”
What he said made sense. Lani nodded her understanding.
Kellan continued the explanation. “After our debrief in Pearl Harbor about the episode with Tan, JSOC approached us about a new elite team that they’re putting together here, based out of Pearl Harbor. It’s going to be a composite crew under JSOC’s direct command, ‘the best of the best’ from all the branches: Marine Spec Ops, Navy SEALs, Rangers, and…” He cracked a lopsided smile. “Us.”
Lani probed him with a long stare. “You…how?”
“Doing what we do best,” Tait filled in. “The bullet ninjas sniper team. At first it’ll be just training and development but we’ll also be assigned to protect Hawaii as if we’ve been deployed here.” His lips looked even more delectable as he curled them into a shit-eating smirk. “Our job will be, quite literally, to protect your ass.”
“Along with a million and a half others,” Kell muttered.
“Yeah, but hers is the most important.”
“Duh.”
Though Tait maintained his grin, the corners of his eyes tightened. “In an even crazier twist of coincidence, part of our job will be to help the FBI in following up on Stock’s whereabouts. Hopefully, we’ll land the puzzle pieces behind Shay’s shenanigans.”
Kellan winced. “Did you really just say ‘shenanigans?’”
“You want me to use something else? ‘Sleeping with the enemy,’ perhaps? While on paper, he’s still deployed in South America somewhere?”
“Fine. Use ‘shenanigans.’ Just not anymore tonight.”
The clouds brought a few scattered rain drops, plopping on the ground around them in the same way that understanding began to splash in her mind…and her heart. “So—you’re telling me that—”
“We’re going to be around a little more.” Tait’s eyes gleamed with golden joy again. “As in, hanging around on most weekends, and maybe a few weeknights when we can catch a lift over to Barking Sands.”
“Don’t forget the bed part.” Kellan’s features smoldered as he leaned in to assert it. “You did mention the bed, starshine.”
“Yeah, I did.” The last of it got lost beneath a soft sob. As she expected, the two of them bunched over her, one on each side.
“Shit,” Tait gritted. “We made her cry.”
“I told you not to bring up Shay.”
“Like that had anything to do with it, asshat.”
“Shut up.” It tumbled from her on a giggle, which made her tears come even harder.
“Sweetheart, we’re sorry. It was too much to dump on you all at once.”
“We can ease into things. We’ll keep most of our stuff at the base. We don’t have to have drawers in the dresser or anything.”
“Well…we’ll need one drawer.”
“Why?”
“Toy storage?” Kell’s voice dipped, conscious of the fifteen year-old standing ten feet away. “Floggers? Lube? Rope?”
That snapped her head way up. She grinned at Kellan. “Yes, please!” she whispered eagerly. Neither of them had put their Dominant hat back on since the night they’d taken such beautiful control of her in the cottage at Barking Sands. She was crawling out of her skin with need for their hands—and their lips, and other body parts—all over her like that once more.
Tait’s features were still cautious. “We can take it slow, baby.” He ran a hand through her hair. “We have our whole lives to pleasure you, to love you. This doesn’t have to happen to—”
She jammed all four of her main fingers over his lips. “Shut. Up. Right. Now.” She swung her head around, including Kellan in her glower. “Listen to me. Both of you. I haven’t just been waiting six weeks for you two. I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. I’ve been seeing my therapist regularly since the shit went down with Tan. My mind is good. My body is healed. The only thing I need right is now is you—and you—in my bed, in my body, in as many drawers as you want and need…
“But most of all, in my life. Forever.”
“And ever.” Kellan lifted her face for a kiss as silken as his voice.
“And ever.” Tait’s echo possessed more gravel, weighted by the gratitude that shined from his eyes. As he claimed her lips, a palpable breeze glided over Lani’s spirit. A smile washed over her soul as she felt Luna dance to her lips, transforming her breath into a sigh of connection and joy. The answering sound from Tait’s chest, resonant and rough with his deep emotion, conveyed how he’d felt it, too. When they pulled apart, he worked his lips, trying to form words. Lani shook her head. Sometimes miracles were best without labels.
“Are you three going to stand there in the rain playing smoochy hoochey all night?”
As they laughed at Leo’s charge, the sprinkles turned into a steady downfall. Lani tilted an impish smile at her brother. “Maybe we will,” she teased.
“In that case, I’m staying with Franz tonight.”
Franzen chuckled. “That’s just fine by me, kid. I’ll introduce you to the magic of Stephen Schwartz. You can pick from Pippin, Wicked, or Godspell.” As Leo’s groan echoed out to them, he looked to Tait and Kellan, the sadness clinging to his gaze. “It’s going to suck to replace you two, despite your blatant middle finger to my orders the last time you were here.”
Lani arched both eyebrows. “A decision that saved my life, Johnny.” In more ways than the man would ever realize.
“Yeah,” the man drawled. “That’s why they lived to brag about it.” He replaced his sarcasm with a respectful tilt of his beer bottle. “On a more serious note, I’m proud as hell of you both at being tagged for the JSOC venture. Congrats, Sergeants.”
The guys conveyed their thanks for the praise before Franzen returned to the house. The rain kept coming down, soaking all three of them, turning the steamy Hawaiian twilight into a brilliant baptism for their new life together. Lani laughed and lifted her face, rejoicing in the shower from the sky the same way she finally accepted what destiny had brought in the form of these two incredible men. All it had asked in return was her openness, her passion, her courage to embrace it all. It bade the same of both Kellan and Tait, in overcoming their own walls: for Kell, in recognizing he even had walls, and for Tait, in realizing that Luna wanted him to be truly happy again.
They’d all come so far.
Yet it was only the beginning.
The rain surely masked her tears now, but somehow she knew the guys could tell the difference, anyway. She peered up at them through the mist of her happiness and whispered, “Let’s go home.”
None of them turned back toward the car. Arm-in-arm, they took the beach route back to Hale Anelas. As they started to walk along the sand, the last rays of the sunset burst through the clouds and across the sea, guiding Lani and her warriors through the rain with a perfect symbol of the spirits’ blessing on their love.
A triple rainbow.
# # #
Turn the page for some very special SNEAK PREVIEWS of Angel Payne’s next books, as well as an excerpt from SHAYLA BLACK’S new novel, too!
Coming in SPRING 2014:
No Prince Charming
Book #1 in a new erotic romance series
by USA Today Bestselling Author Angel Payne
and exciting new romance talent Victoria Blue
Special Preview
Prologue
April
Claire
Oh my God.
It was all I could think, over and over, as I reached up to prod at my lips—maybe as a way of assuring I wasn’t dreaming. Or hopping dimensions. Or remembering the last
half hour in a really crazy way.
Oh. My. God.
What the hell had just happened?
Forget my lip. My whole mouth felt like I’d just had dental work done, tingling where his lips were just moments ago. Which had been…everywhere. Or had hours passed, instead? I didn’t know anymore. Time was suddenly contorted.
My mind raced, trying to catch up with the erratic beat of my heart. “Christ,” I whispered. My voice shook like a damn teenager, so I repeated myself. Which made so much sense.
It was all because of that man. That dictatorial, demanding…
Nerve-numbing, bone melting…
Man.
Who really knew how to deliver a kiss.
Hell. That kiss.
Obviously, at this age, I’d been kissed before. I’d been everything before. But that—what we’d done—that single moment was going to keep me awake tonight. Late tonight. I would bet on it.
I pressed the call button for the elevator with trembling fingers. Turning back to face the door I’d just come out of, I considered re-pushing that buzzer, instead. The sleek black lacquer panel around the button was still smudged by the angry fingerprints I’d left when arriving here, not more than thirty minutes ago, because of his damn summons.
Yeah. He’d “summoned” me. And like a breathless backstage groupie, I’d dropped everything and come.
I was even more pissed now. At him. At me. At the thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone now, all in answer to one tormenting question.
If Killian Stone kissed like that, what could he do to the rest of my body?
No. That kind of thinking was dangerous. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up as if the air conditioner just kicked on. It hadn’t.
It had been a while since I had been with a man. At least like…that. “Okay,” I admitted to the polished marble floor, “maybe a long while.”
For the last three years, career had come in front of all else, of course. Dad had fought so hard to get doors opened for me, and wasting those opportunities to spend time on relationships simply wasn’t an option. My focus paid off, leading to a coveted position at Asher and Associates PR, where I’d quickly moved up to the elite field team for Andrea Asher herself. The six of us, including Andrea and her daughter, Margaux, were called corporate America’s “miracle cover stick.” We were brought in when the blemishes were too big and horrid for in-house PR specialists, hired specifically for our thoroughness and objectivity—which also meant the assignments were brief, ruthless, and very temporary.
The gig at Stone Global was exactly such a job. And things were going well. Better than well. People were cooperating. The press was moving on to new prey. The project was actually ahead of schedule, which meant that soon, I’d be back to my rightful place at the home office in San Diego, and what had just happened in Killian Stone’s penthouse would be no more than a blip in my memory. And his. So what was wrong with having lived a little? At twenty-seven, I was due for at least one heart-stopping kiss with a man who looked like dark sin, was built like a Navy SEAL, and kissed like a fantasy. Sweet God, what a fantasy.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I muttered furiously. “You didn’t break any rules…technically. You’re both consenting adults. You’re—”
Having an argument with yourself in the middle of a hallway in the Lincoln Park 2550 building, waiting on the world’s slowest damn elevator.
I leaned on the call button again.
While still trying to talk myself out of pouncing on Killian’s buzzer, too. Or perhaps back into it. If I could concoct an excuse to ring his doorbell before the elevator arrived…
No. This is dangerous, remember? He’s dangerous. You know all the sordid reasons why—his and yours.
Maybe I could just say I accidentally left my purse inside…
And that’s going to fly…how? One glance down at my oversized Michael Kors clutch had me cursing the fashion trend gods, along with their penchant for large handbags.
I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and hoping for a light bulb. I was bombarded with Killian’s smell, instead. Armani Code. The cologne was strong in my nose, its rich bergamot and lemon mingling with the spice of his shampoo and the Scotch on his breath, like he’d marked the scent into me through the intimacy of our skin…
My fingers roamed to my cheek, tracing the abrasion of where he’d rubbed me with his stubble. My head fell back from the heady impact of the recollection.
Suddenly, it was as if he stood right in front of me again, commanding and warm and close, so close. I felt his breath on my face again. The press of his wool pants against my legs. The metal scrape of his cufflinks on my skin as he stroked my arms. And the wild throb of my heart as he pulled me in, caressing my face. Then lifting my chin and…
Yes.
The memory was so vivid, so good. I used the flat of my palm on my face now, thinking I could save the magic if I covered it. Protecting it from the outside world. Our perfect secret in the middle of this chaos.
Whoa.
“Get a grip.” I dropped my hand along with the furious whisper. It was one kiss. Incredible, yes, but I guaranteed he still wasn’t thinking about it like this. Behind that huge, pretty door, Killian Stone moved again in his world, instantly focused on the next of his hundred priorities, none of them bearing my name. And he expected me to get back to mine: cushioning his company from that big, bad outside world I’d just been vilifying. You’ve been hired to help clean up the Stone family’s mess, not add to it.
The elevator finally dinged.
At the same time, Killian’s penthouse door opened behind me.
I froze a smile on my face, trying to look like I had been patiently waiting for the elevator the entire time.
“Miss Montgomery?”
Not Killian. I didn’t know whether to curse or laugh.
“Yes?” I managed a girl scout-sweet reply.
A kind smile waited when I turned around. The man had such a warm face, as well, tempting me to call him Fred. Not Alfred. Just Fred. The man was too handsome for a full “Alfred.”
Fred handed me a small ivory envelope, then stepped over into the elevator. He held the doors open while I got into the car with him. We rode in silence down to the lobby. I squirmed while Fred smiled as if it were Saturday in the park. Did he know what his boss had just done to me?
I winced toward the wall. Technically, Killian was my boss right now, too.
Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone.
He can never be “Killian” again.
The sooner you remember that, the better.
I was dying to open that little envelope, but carefully placed it in my queen-size clutch for when I was alone again in the cab on my way back to the hotel.
“I’ll call a cab for you.” Fred made it very obvious it wasn’t up for debate, so I smiled with gratitude and followed him across the gleaming lobby to the awning in front of the building.
Chicago was a great city, but the traffic was insane. Nevertheless, Fred made an empty cab appear within seconds. He prepaid the fare to the driver, and within seconds, Killian’s building was swallowed by the lush trees of the neighborhood. I was on my way back to the hotel. Back to real life.
I pulled out the little treasure from my purse. Nothing was written on the outside. Killian—Mr. Stone—had expected it would get to me without questions.
The elegant handwriting inside, dedicated to just one sentence, dried out my throat upon impact.
I must see you again.
He left no signature. No phone number. Not even an email address. But the strangest part about it all? I wasn’t surprised. He was Killian Jamison Stone. And he kissed like that. Things—and people—came to him, not the other way around.
But did I have the strength to be one of those people, knowing I’d never see him again after three months?
Chapter One
Three Months Earlier – February
Killian
“Have a seat.�
�
I tried to be diplomatic about it. Trey’s stoned eyes and clammy skin were evidence enough of how he’d tried to self-medicate the nightmare away last night. But this mess, his mess, wasn’t going away anytime soon. I’d closed the shades, blocking out the panoramic view of the river and skyline, to force him to see it. All ten monitors on my office wall blared the headlines from the major news carrier websites.
Stone’s at it Again—Times Two
Throwing Stones? Looks Like He Did
Stones, Sex, and Politics: They Really Do Mix
Senators Daughters? He’ll Take Two, Please—At Once
Oh, Trey! Come and Play the Washington Way!
The titles progressed in creativity from there.
Trey didn’t sit. Instead, while taking a surly trip to the sideboard, he snarled, “Turn that crap off.”
I parked my ass against my desk and braced my legs. “Not happening.”
“Where the hell’s all your booze?”
“Forget it. Also not happening.”
“All you have here is coffee.”
“Because it’s nine in the morning.” I glanced at the monitors again and clenched my jaw. A blond and a brunette this time. One of them was still in her school uniform. The other had waved hello to eighteen just last week. Yes, that was our single ray of hope here. At least one of the girls was “legal.”
“I hate coffee.”
“Drink it. You’re going to need it.”
“I’ll gack.”
“Good. It’ll save me the money from having your stomach pumped.”
Trey hurled the coffee mug, thankfully still empty, past my head and into one of the monitors. “You know what? Fuck you, Killian!”
The hatred he flung from those bright green eyes, now through a tangle of his dark hair, hadn’t changed since we were kids. Neither had the stake of sorrow it drove into my gut. But unlike then, I wasn’t willing to share my Legos for a chance at his love. Because since then, I’d learned it wouldn’t make a difference. So the stake stayed. How’d the ditty go? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I could work with that.
