by Liliana Hart
The last thing she wanted to do was run into Eve again, so when she opened the door to the carriage house and stepped into the kitchen, she breathed out a huge sigh of relief to see that the other woman wasn’t there.
She had no idea whether or not Deacon had returned, but either way, she had to face things head-on, so she went up the stairs to the rooms they shared. She used her thumb on the fingerprint pad and waited as it scanned her and unlocked the door. He’d had her programmed in once she’d moved her day-to-day things there.
The door snicked open and she pushed it wide. The room was empty. Her palms were sweaty and she relaxed as she put her purse away. She’d shower and try to get some sleep. It would do no good to worry herself into exhaustion.
She sat down on the bed to kick off her shoes and undress, but fatigue came over her and she lay back on the bed for a few minutes to rest her eyes. The next time she opened them was when she heard the familiar sound of the lock opening on the door and felt the presence of someone else in the room.
She turned her head and drank in the sight of him. She was still sleepy and disoriented, but her brain was new enough to see that he was whole and uninjured. Though he looked like hell. His black face paint was smeared from sweat and his hair was damp. He looked like a savage.
“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze taking in every inch of her. He looked surprised and relieved to see her.
“Hey, yourself,” she said. And then every word Eve had poisoned her mind with came back like a flood.
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Deacon came toward her. He picked up the chair that sat against the wall and moved it in front of her on the bed.
“I’m filthy,” he said. “I don’t want to get the bed dirty.”
“I need to talk to you,” she said, coming to a sitting position to face him. She probably looked like hell, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it at the moment.
“I thought you might,” he said, his voice sober. “I ran into Eve downstairs. She mentioned you have quite a temper.”
She tried to smile, but she wasn’t a miracle worker. “I need to ask you something,” she said. “And I need the truth.”
“Before you do, I want to tell you something.”
She swallowed and thought this might be the end. His face was so serious, his expression almost sad.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Go ahead and tell me.”
“Actually, I want to tell you two things.” He reached out and took one of her hands and squeezed it gently. “The first is that I won’t lie to you. If you have something to ask me, you’ll get the truth. I promise you that.”
“What’s the second thing?” she asked.
“I love you.”
Her mouth dropped open and she tried to remember to breathe, but it wasn’t coming as easily as it usually did. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
“You . . . you do?” she asked. And then she burst into tears.
Before she knew it, she’d been scooped up into his arms and was sitting on his lap. Her head was tucked into his shoulder, and she didn’t care one bit how ridiculous she must look or that he might be smearing black face paint all over her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling. “You just surprised me.”
“I can see that,” he said, and she could feel his smile on the top of her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. That you couldn’t tell how much I love you. You’re like my oxygen, Tess. I can’t breathe without you.
“For two years I’ve been living as if I were already dead. But loving you has given me a hope I’ve never had before. You’re my light in the darkness. Don’t you see that?”
She saw the sincerity in his eyes and she trembled as she stroked his shoulder. “I didn’t believe her,” she said. “Eve, I mean. Not really. Though she got in her fair share of darts. She knew exactly what to say to hit me where I’m weakest.”
“It’s her specialty,” he said. “I told her you were too smart to be fooled by her half-truths.”
“I have to know though,” she said and swallowed again. “Did she order you to seduce me?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “A few weeks ago. But I’d already decided a long time ago that I was going to pursue you with full force once you were ready. It just so happened you being ready and her orders coincided.”
“Okay,” she said. “I just had to ask. I would’ve wondered forever if we hadn’t cleared the air. I let her get to me. Even as I was standing there telling myself not to let it happen, she succeeded. I don’t care what she says. I love you too. I know the consequences of this life and what it means. We can do this. What I don’t want to do is live without you. I’d also prefer to not have to ever speak to her again. All I can think of when I see her is how damned perfect the two of you must have been together. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It still baffles me you’d pick me when you’ve had something like that. I’ve never really felt jealousy before. But when I look at her I want to claw her eyes out.”
“First of all, she’s not the most beautiful woman. She’s got a heart of ice, and the soul she once had has long since been bargained for in her line of work. I picked you because you’re everything I see that’s beautiful in this world. I’d stopped seeing those things before I met you. You’re the kindest, most sincere person I know. You give selflessly and you know how to love, even when you’ve told yourself it’s not worth it. You never give up.”
Her tears had started to fall again and she swiped at her eyes.
“If you saw yourself as I see you, you’d know Eve Winter can’t hold a candle to your beauty. You light up the room.” His hand touched the ends of her hair. “The soft warmth of fire in your hair and your sorceress eyes. Your beauty bewitches me. It’s you who makes my head turn and you who captivates me. Only you.”
She nodded because she couldn’t find the words to say anything. How could she even come close to saying the right thing after such beautiful words?
“And second of all,” he continued. “Eve and I have never been lovers. I’m not and have never been a monk. I’ve had lovers in the past, and there have been missions where I’ve done what I needed to do to get the job done.”
“You don’t have to explain,” she said.
“I don’t ever want you to have doubt or feel that jealousy. She’s not worth the emotions it drains from you. The only reason Eve knows what kind of lover I am is because on one of those missions where I did what I had to do, she was watching through the surveillance we’d set up. That’s her only basis for what she told you.”
Tess was surprised at the relief she felt. She’d known Deacon had had lovers in the past, just as she had. His past was his past. But there’d been something that hadn’t settled well at the thought that he’d chosen Eve as a lover. She couldn’t have blamed him, because Eve was gorgeous. But she’d hoped his taste had been more discerning. It pleased her immensely that it had been.
“I need a shower,” he said, standing to his feet with her still in his arms.
“I was just thinking that,” she said. “We do really good work in the shower.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Twelve hours later the team was in Philadelphia and they’d set up a mobile headquarters in connecting suites at the Ritz-Carlton. Tess had been through the emotional ringer the last twenty-four hours, and it had shown in the drawn expression on her face and the shadows under her eyes. But when she’d looked at Deacon that morning, they shone bright with the love she had for him.
It had already been decided that Tess would stay at HQ and watch events unfold on the monitors. Much like the rest of the world. She wasn’t happy about staying behind, but Deacon wasn’t willing to risk her if something went wrong and they failed to stop the attack. If they hadn’t found the trucks ready to depart at the warehouse, they never would’ve been able to save everyone.
By early Sunday morning before they left, Eve had called. It ha
d taken her longer than the twelve hours she’d promised them the night before. But none of them mentioned that to her. The good news was she had the information. And just in time too, because kickoff was only hours away.
“I told you Levkin was the weak link,” she said coldly, though Deacon could see the frustration in her eyes. Levkin must’ve been a harder nut to crack than she’d estimated. “I have full confidence the information he gave me is the truth. It took longer because he was resistant to the truth serum.” She looked at Levi as she said it, as if it were somehow his fault since the serum had been created by the Mossad.
“The Russians have been torturing their own soldiers for years to prepare them to withstand serums such as that,” Levi said. “Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Their methods aren’t as effective as my own country’s.”
“I’d say ineffective,” she said.
Deacon had never seen Eve question a suspect, but he’d never seen her not get the answers she was looking for.
“Give us the play-by-play,” Deacon said. “We’re running out of time.”
“Kickoff is at noon,” she said. “At eleven-thirty, Lieutenant Joshua Sykes, with the 101st Airborne, should be landing on the field. The only problem is we can’t find Lieutenant Sykes.”
“How long has he been missing?” Elias asked.
“The last time he was seen was at dinner last night with a few friends,” she answered. “They said he left early to go back to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep before he had to parachute onto the field today. He went toward South Street and disappeared. We’re keeping this quiet for now. His friends think he got up early and is preparing for the jump.”
“Is that his normal pattern of behavior?” Dante asked.
“Apparently,” she said. “We have every reason to believe that the initial detonation will be attached to whoever is taking Sykes’s place to parachute onto the field. According to Levkin, Egorov will be making his last mission a big one. And Levkin wasn’t happy about it. They both wanted the glory that would come to them and their families after their sacrifice.”
Deacon felt Tess’s hand slip into his, her presence reassuring him that everything would be okay. It had to be okay.
“Your mission is simple,” Eve said. “To take out Egorov before he touches ground and save the lives of everyone in that stadium. This is why we do what we do. We can’t fail. The problem is that you’re going to be on live television, and no one can know what the hell you’re doing or how much danger they’re in. I’ve told you all before that this is a job no one can tell you thank you for.”
“We’ve never done what we do for the thank-yous,” Axel said.
Eve stared at him, her eyes bleak. “Neither have I,” she said. “The Shadow has provided everything you need on the fourth level of the parking garage at Fifteenth and Sansom.”
DEACON TRUSTED ELIAS with his life, and the life of every person in that stadium. He had to. There was no turning back. No second-guessing. And there was no other way.
There was no one more qualified to take a sniper shot at a moving target than the ex-SEAL. The stadium was filled to bursting, crowded with excited fans wearing a mix of black and gold and powder-blue. The decibel level of the crowd made it difficult to hear through their comm units. Even during the pre-game entertainment, the home crowd was riled up with the possibility of a potential win.
The noonday sun was blistering and the air stale with the heat rising from the stands. The crowd was pressed in together as close as they could be, and even the aisles were thick with people as they jostled to get to their seats with drinks that slopped over the tops and popcorn that littered the concrete stairs.
Deacon, Dante, and Levi stood at the end zone, dressed as EMTs, and Axel sat behind the wheel of the ambulance behind them, ready to take off at the first sight of injury. It was the only way they’d been able to think of to be where they needed to be. There was no potential for a second shot if Elias missed. The turn of events would flow too quickly for any of them to react and take Egorov out if Elias’s bullet didn’t find its home.
Elias had slipped his rifle into the stadium undetected, and he had a limited amount of time to scout the best location from which to take the shot based on the information they knew about which end zone Egorov would be coming in from.
“I’m in place,” Elias said through the comms.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said over the loudspeaker. “Please rise for our national anthem.”
At the fifty-yard line, a full orchestra in black tuxedos and sequin dresses sat poised and ready to play. And with his hands in the air, the maestro waved his baton and music filled the stadium. They’d put tiny microphones on all the stringed instruments so they were amplified through the loudspeakers.
“And the rockets’ red glare . . .”
From one end of the stadium red fireworks shot straight into the sky. Deacon breathed a sigh of relief. The fireworks were crucial to their mission.
“The bombs bursting in air . . .”
People’s attention was starting to waver from the flag and fireworks as they noticed the giant American flag parachute making its way toward the field. Deacon’s breath caught as Egorov masterfully maneuvered the chute where he wanted it to go.
“And the home . . . of the . . . brave.”
Fireworks exploded at the other end of the field as Egorov entered the field. And then Deacon saw it happen. He saw Egorov’s body jerk as it was hit with the force of the bullet, straight through his side.
Deacon and the others ran onto the field before Egorov’s feet hit the ground. His landing was hard, and the crowd gasped as they watched the parachuter’s knees buckle and his body crumple to the ground. The fireworks boomed a continual blast, and they were able to shield the body and assess the situation.
Blood bloomed at his side, and Deacon used his body to block the area from the crowd and the news cameras he knew would be on them in moments.
“He’s dead,” Levi confirmed, feeling the pulse in his neck. “Nice shot.”
“Thank you,” Elias said. “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”
Dante went to get the stretcher, and Axel had already gotten out of the ambulance and was waiting with the back doors open so he could help Dante get it out. They lifted Egorov and set him neatly on the stretcher, covering him with one of the thick blankets they used for people in shock.
The blood was more than noticeable now, and Deacon noticed some had gotten on his clothes. They rushed the gurney back to the ambulance and got Egorov loaded inside just as the first news camera made it to them.
They all noticed the black bag strapped to Egorov. And they all noticed how close the bullet had come to going through the bomb instead of flesh and bone.
“Hell of a shot.” Axel let out a low whistle through his teeth.
The comm unit in Deacon’s ear crackled and he heard the sweet sound of Tess’s voice. “That was insane!” she said. “I watched the whole thing on national television and I still have no idea what happened. If I hadn’t heard you say that he was dead I never would’ve had a clue.”
“Marry me, Tess,” Deacon said. He’d had no idea he was going to say the words. They’d just popped out. But now that he’d said them, he desperately wanted to know the answer to the question.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, clearly stunned.
“He said ‘Will you marry me?’ ” Elias said from wherever the hell he was.
“Yes, I believe that’s what he said,” Dante agreed.
“Y’all shut up,” Tess said. “You’re ruining my moment.”
“Don’t mind us,” Axel said. “We’re just along for the ride.”
Deacon didn’t let Tess hear his laughter, afraid she’d take it the wrong way. He didn’t want to get her temper riled at a moment like this.
“I asked you to marry me,” he repeated. “What do you say?”
“Wow,” she said.
; “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tess,” Elias said. “Just give the man an answer. We’re all on pins and needles here.”
This time it was her laughter he heard over the comm units. “I’d hate to leave you in such suspense. I’ll marry you, Deacon Tucker. God help you, I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Six months later . . .
Tess walked the long hallway of the second floor, peeking in the finished rooms and wondering if she’d made the right decision.
These weren’t the rooms that she’d known since she’d lived there. These were the rooms of a home. The renovations had been finished only the week before, and the top two floors were now as spectacular as the bottom. She saw the swish of a black tail as the cat slunk inside the bedroom at the far end of the hall, but she turned and went up the stairs to her suite of rooms.
The memories there were strong, especially of her and Deacon—as he’d demolished her bathroom, teased her unmercifully, or stripped her bare and made love to her until the sun peeked through the big glass windows.
Her life had been irrevocably changed. She’d seen and done things she could never unsee or undo. She knew the truth. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t fear or doubt. Fear for his life. For hers. For the family they’d make one day.
The only thing that mattered was that Deacon was her home. Wherever that may be.
“Deep thoughts,” came a gravelly voice from the doorway.
She turned and smiled at him and held out her hand. His expression was solemn, but he took her hand and squeezed it once.
“They did a good job on the renovations,” she said. “Much sturdier,” she said, bouncing up and down lightly on the new floor.
It was a good space. The floors had been replaced with gleaming oak, and the wallpaper had been stripped. The walls were a soft ivory, and the ornamental ceiling had been restored to its full glory. The windows let in lots of light, and with the light paint and floors, the room was open and airy and comfortable. The king-size bed sat intimidatingly against the far wall, the duvet soft and white, the pillows mounded up at the headboard. The bathroom and sitting room were equally beautiful and spacious. And she smiled as she saw one of Deacon’s T-shirts draped over the chair in the corner. It was still theirs. Only theirs.
