by Cindy Dees
She and Mike held hands inside the pocket of her coat for a long time after the doctor’s visit. The seconds ticked by in silence in the stainless steel cube that had become their entire world. If they were incredibly lucky, it was the incubator for their new lives. If not, then it would be their tomb.
And so, they waited.
Piper was asleep when the door opened the next time. Mike touched her cheek and murmured, “Wake up, baby. We’ve got company.”
She sat up, blinking sleepily until she saw the white lab coat. This was it. The moment when they would find out if Mike lived or died. His fingers found hers in the faux mink margins of her sleeve and clutched her hand tightly. She squeezed back every bit as nervously.
“Good news, Agent McCloud. You are free of the virus. If you would like to leave this refrigerator and join the rest of the guests in the ballroom, you may feel free to do so. The CDC has decided to keep everyone in cool environments for seven days, just to be safe, but I’m confident you do not need this extreme cold any longer.”
“How many victims have there been?” she asked soberly.
The doctor waxed serious. “We’ve had fifteen fatalities so far. Sadly, I estimate another thirty or so patients will succumb. The good news is that, after last year’s Ebola scare, we’ve got plenty of trained health care workers and portable isolation units to contain this outbreak. Had the virus not been vulnerable to ionized silver, and had we not discovered that fact so quickly, the fatalities would have been much, much worse.”
Piper flung herself into Mike’s embrace. Even through their thick coats, he all but squeezed the stuffing out of her with the strength and relief of his embrace. She said a silent prayer of thanks that Yusef Abahdi had loved his daughter enough to build in a way to protect her, and unwittingly, to save them all.
“Ready to get out of here?” Mike murmured.
“Oh, God, yes,” she answered fervently.
The hotel’s security man stood behind the doctor in the doorway. “That thing you asked about, Agent McCloud?”
Mike looked up sharply.
“Taken care of. I think you’ll find everything to your satisfaction.”
Mike busted out in a gigantic, ear-to-ear smile.
“What?” Piper asked quickly. She knew better than to trust any man who wore that shit-eating a grin.
“C’mon. It’ll be easier to show you.” He shed his coat and held out his hand.
She doffed her coat as well. As nice as the fake fur coat had been, a day-and-a-half of wearing it made her glad to get rid of the thing. She laid her hand in Mike’s. Wherever he wanted to lead her, she would follow. They’d been to Hell, and he’d managed to bring her back safe and sound. Not only had they found each other, but they’d saved the world while they were at it.
Epilogue
Piper followed Mike out of the refrigerator, and she jolted when loud applause erupted. A good chunk of the hotel’s staff lined the long aisle between the stainless steel prep tables, and they were all smiling and clapping. As Mike led her through the phalanx of people, many offered their thanks for what she and Mike had been through to save them.
“What are they talking about?” she asked Mike under her breath.
“No idea,” he muttered back.
The doctor glanced over his shoulder at them. “Your story’s been all over the news. The hero agents who nearly died to bring word of how to stop the virus to the people of Las Vegas, and to everyone else beyond the city who was exposed. And then, the two of you having to hole up in a meat locker in a last ditch effort to save Agent McCloud’s life—it made for good sound bites, I have to say.”
“Oh, dear. If we’re seen on TV we won’t be able to do undercover work,” she responded in distress. “El Noor is still out there, somewhere.”
Mike replied, “He’s a problem for another day. One crisis at a time, okay? And besides. I have something else in mind for us to do right now.”
Her gaze snapped to his face. “What’s that?” But his expression gave away nothing.
They followed the security chief through the bowels of the hotel, destination unknown. But then the procession stopped in front of a pair of swinging double doors. Oddly, the security man turned to smile at her. “Ready?”
“For what?” she asked blankly.
Mike tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and nodded at the guy. A couple of waiters swung the doors open and Mike escorted her forward.
They took a single step into the giant ballroom and she stopped dead in her tracks. A deafening chorus of cheers and applause broke out from the hundreds of hotel guests and staff crammed in the room, but that wasn’t what froze her feet to the floor.
A long, white floor runner stretched away in front of her and Mike, leading up to a raised dais with an elaborate wrought iron bower covered in ivy and white roses. Underneath it, a man who was the spitting image of Elvis Presley stood there wearing…
…were those preacher’s robes? He held a bible open in his hands, too, and the guy was grinning as foolishly as everyone else seemed to be doing all of a sudden.
The cheers quieted, and music broke out. Holy crap. That was an orchestra over there in the corner. And they were playing the Wedding March.
Whoa. What?
She looked over at Mike in panic. The moment her gaze lit on him, he dropped to one knee. Her jaw dropped in response. The security guy reached out and handed Mike a little velvet box.
“Piper Roth. You had me at the first moment you spotted me in your gun sight. I feel as if I’ve loved you enough for ten lifetimes already, and God knows, we’ve done enough living for ten lifetimes. Would you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me and do absolutely nothing together for the rest of our lives?”
She gazed into his beautiful, hopeful eyes that reflected the giant heart inside the man, and everything they’d been through, every struggle they’d gone through, every hardship they’d endured to arrive at this moment fell away. The people and the music and flowers. All of it disappeared, leaving behind only the two of them. Together. Alive. In love.
She answered into the deep hush, “I will marry you, Michael McCloud; however, I will not promise to do nothing. I have plans for you, good sir.” A mischievous spark entered her eyes and answering heat leapt in his.
He held up the box to her. “Let’s see what the hotel manager picked out from the house jewelry store for you.”
She opened the box and gasped. A gigantic diamond engagement ring set in what looked like platinum and surrounded by a ring of smaller stones was nestled in the black velvet interior. The thing must be worth a fortune.
Mike plucked it out of its box and slipped it on her finger. It was cold and heavy. But it reminded her of Mike. He’d emerged from their enforced cold more solid and whole than ever.
“What do you say, Piper? Wanna get married in Vegas?”
A huge smile spread across her face and took over her entire being. “I’m up for it if you are.”
He laughed richly. “I never could turn down a dare from you. Let’s do this.”
The security guy cued the orchestra who took up the wedding march again. She looped her arm around Mike’s elbow, and they walked forward together. Into whatever the future might hold, secure in the knowledge that no matter what life threw at them, they had each other and their love to see them through.
And best of all, they’d be able to tell their grandkids they got married by Elvis in Vegas.
The End
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Page Ahead for an Excerpt From:
Kill Zone
Kill Zone
Danger in Arms, Book 2
He wore a tuxedo strikingly well. Where had he been, dressed like that, before he’d been called in to help her? He looked as if he’d just stepped out of a fancy casino. He caught her gaze upon him and smiled intimately, as if he knew precisely what she was thinking. It took her aback and sent her heart racing before she remembered they were playing a scene for the driver. Sheesh. She returned the lover’s smile in kind.
He held out his arm, and for once, she found herself grateful there was a big, strong man around. She linked her arm through his and leaned on his rock-hard forearm, letting him bear almost her entire weight. He strolled casually up the sidewalk as if totally unaware of her fingers biting into his flesh. She concentrated on matching his even pace, clenching her jaw every time her injured foot made contact with the ground. If only the cab would leave so she could stop! They reached the front porch, and still the driver sat there, infuriatingly counting his money.
Her companion turned toward her and murmured apologetically, “Pardon me for what I’m about to do.”
His arms went around her and his mouth lowered toward hers. Good Lord, he was going to kiss her. A thrill of excitement raced through her, wildfire running before the wind. It left her trembling in anticipation of she knew not what. His head slanted toward hers, blocking the cab from her view. His lips paused, barely an inch from hers, his breath caressing her cheek like warm velvet. She steeled herself for the invasion of his mouth, but it didn’t come. He remained where he was, nearly touching, nearly tasting, nearly possessing her. Anticipation built inside her, and she fought a sudden inclination to lean into him, take the kiss and be done with it.
She could imagine what his mouth would feel like—warm, alive and virile. He’d taste male and musky, perhaps with a hint of Scotch whiskey. He’d be gentle at first, then the kiss would deepen. He’d explore her mouth, and his arms would tighten around her, molding her to him. She’d feel the unyielding strength of his body; she’d sense the tension beginning to build in him, matching her own. Sparks would leap between them, and she’d melt against him. It would be a sensational kiss.
But nothing happened.
She peered up at him. His jaw was tense, and he seemed to be concentrating on whether or not the cab had left. The anticipation whooshed out of her in a rush. So much for that short-lived fantasy. Up close like this, his eyelashes were dark and thick, and his skin had the smoothness of vigorous health about it. His mouth was mobile, expressive. Eminently kissable. Beyond all that, there was steel in him, unbendable self-control.
“Is he gone yet?” Taylor asked in an undertone.
Amanda peeked past his ear. “Pulling out now, the bleeding Peeping Tom.”
His lips curved into a grin, although not another muscle twitched. “Gone now?”
“Yes.” The syllable was exhaled on a breath of relief.
He straightened. “Well, that was almost fun.”
For some bizarre reason, she was disappointed as his arms fell away. She retorted, “Indeed. That was almost lovely. Until you almost got to the part where I almost decided you were getting fresh and almost flattened you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I almost consider making advances toward you,” he replied wryly.
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Kill Zone
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Also by Cindy Dees
The Danger in Arms Series
Fever Zone
Kill Zone
Hot Zone
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over sixty books, 2-time RITA winner and five-time RITA finalist, Cindy Dees writes military romance and romantic suspense. A former U.S. Air Force pilot and part-time spy, she draws upon real-life experience to fuel her stories of love on the edge. When she’s not heavily caffeinated and typing like a maniac, she can be found walking her Doberman Pinscher named Waffles, sweating through hot yoga, reading, gardening, and traveling. She loves to chat with readers, and her social media links are at www.cindydees.com
