Ex-army ranger Jim Morgan leads a team of elite mercenaries, but eighteen years ago in Paris, he was part of a black ops unit whose mission was to hunt down a rogue operative. In order to trap the criminal, Jim seduced Noelle, the man's daughter - a ruthless act that cost him the love of his life and turned her into a mortal enemy. Now he can't trust her, but he still desires her. He also needs her help.....
Older, wiser, and unwilling to play the fool again, Noelle runs a group of highly skilled assassins. And she's just been offered the hit of the century: Eliminate Jim Morgan. History gives them no reason to trust each other, but with their lives in jeopardy at the hands of a common enemy, the lines between love and hate are soon blurred. Now Noelle and Jim must face the past if they want to have a future - let alone a future together.
His body was magnificent.
Not an ounce of fat on it, just a solid mass of muscle and
raw masculine power. Noelle eyed Jim’s molded biceps and triceps as those
strong arms propelled his body forward. Long legs kicking through the water,
tight buttocks flexing with each commanding stroke.
She hadn’t seen him naked in years, and she was intrigued by
the scars— both old and new— that marred his sleek, tanned skin. She wondered
how he’d gotten each one. A big part of her wished she had been the one who’d
inflicted them on him, but alas, she hadn’t laid a hand on the man since they’d
parted ways in Paris all those years ago.
Her hands suddenly tingled with the urge to alter that. To
pound into his flesh and administer pain, bruises, any kind of mark to serve as
proof that she could cause him damage.
God, he deserved to die for what he’d done to her. So why
did she continue to let him live? She used to tell herself it was because she
wanted to torment him first, but lately she’d been questioning her motives.
Wondering if maybe the reason she hadn’t killed him was because she simply
didn’t want to see him dead.
But why not, damn it? All she’d ever dreamed of was wiping
him out of existence, out of her life and her thoughts.
And clearly she wasn’t the only one. Someone else wanted Jim
terminated, someone who was willing to pay a small fortune to make it happen,
and instead of acting like the professional she was and getting the job done,
she’d come here to warn him.
To warn him, for
fuck’s sake.
A soft splash recaptured her attention, and she lifted her
head in time to see Jim hop onto the deck.
Water dripped from his warrior form,
rivulets gathering between his heavy pecs, running down his rock-hard chest and
clinging to his washboard abs. He was unconcerned with his nudity, unfazed by
the erection jutting from his groin.
His arms rose in a lazy stretch, roped muscles bulging as
his gaze found hers. His cobalt blue eyes gleamed mockingly.
“Say your piece and leave, Noelle.”
She rose from the deck chair with a careless shrug. “Someone
wants you dead. Offered me five million big ones to eliminate you.”
Jim slanted his head. “Who?”
“Not sure. The client is using a middleman.”
“Interesting.” He swiped a towel from the stack on one of
the lounge chairs and wrapped it around his trim hips.
The second his erection was out of sight, Noelle was able to
breathe again. It sickened her that her body was capable of responding to his
aroused state; her heart had actually skipped a beat and her core had ached
with need.
She wasn’t allowed to get turned on by Jim Morgan. It was a
weakness she refused to possess.
“He gave me five days to get the job done,” she added.
“After that, the contract hits the open market— two million bucks for your head
on a silver platter. It’ll be an assassin free-for-all.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” he said gruffly. “Any idea who
the client might be?”
“No, but I can give you his associate’s information. Gilles
Girard, a lawyer in Paris.” She took a step toward the flagstone path that led
to the terrace. “Happy hunting, Jim.”
“Did you take the job?”
She kept her back to him. “Of course. Turning it down might
have raised a red flag.”
“You planning on following through on it?”
“Nope.”
His husky laughter grated. “Why not?”
“Why do you think? I’ll kill you on my own terms, not under
orders from some anonymous asshole.”
“Right. You’ve still deluded yourself into thinking you’re
actually gonna off me.”
She slowly turned around. The amused glimmer in his eyes
made her want to reach for the pistol at the small of her back and shoot him
right in that mocking mouth of his.
“Right back atcha, baby,” she said softly.
“Oh, I already explained why I haven’t killed you. I’m not
done making you suffer.”
“Whatever you say, Jim.”
She took off walking again, but he came up beside her,
matching her hurried strides.
“Where you headed?” he asked.
“What do you care?”
He ignored the question. “Back to Paris?”
“Yes,” she said grudgingly.
“Good. I’ll catch a ride with you, then. Give me twenty
minutes to gather my gear.”
He was on the terrace and marching inside before she could
protest, leaving her standing there in annoyance. Presumptuous ass. She’d
rather slit her wrists than let him board her jet.
So why are you still
here?
The snide voice raised a valid point. Jim couldn’t force her
to give him a ride. All she had to do was walk out of the house, get into her
car, and drive to the airstrip. Without him.
Or, she could put a bullet in his brain and finally be done
with him.
But Noelle chose neither of those options.
Instead, she lit up a cigarette, took a deep drag, and
waited for Jim.
~~~~~
“You really think it’s a good idea to handle this alone?”
D’s gravelly voice sounded from the doorway, where the tattooed mercenary stood
with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
Morgan tossed a couple pairs of pants into his large black
duffel, followed by a few T-shirts and a handful of rolled-up socks.
“No other choice,” he muttered as he packed. “I need my
A-Team in Ecuador, and the rest of the men on other gigs.”
“Sully, Liam, and Ash are all off rotation,” D pointed out.
“Take them with you.”
“No.”
“Morgan—”
“No,” he repeated. “I have no idea what I’ll find in Paris,
and I’m not dragging anyone else into this until I know for sure what I’m up
against. I’d rather they stay at the compound— you can call them in for backup
if the rebel job gets too hairy.”
D scowled. “They’d be of better use serving as backup for
you.”
“They stay here.” He spoke in a firm voice, refusing to
yield to D’s menacing expression. No way was he endangering any of his men in
what could very likely be a dangerous wild-goose chase.
As if reading his mind, D stepped into the room and closed
the door behind him. “She could be fucking with you.”
Although Morgan had been entertaining the same notion, his
brain kept dismissing it. He knew Noelle better than he knew himself, and he
believed with absolute certainty that she’d told him the truth.
But what were her motives for sharing the information? The
cynic in him assumed she’d come to gloat, but that didn’t sit right with him.
As crazy as it was, he suspected she might have actually come to warn him.
Figure that one out.
“Nah, she’s on the up-and-up.” He checked the clip of his
semiautomatic, shoved the weapon in a smaller canvas case, then stowed the gun
bag in the big duffel. “Question is— who was stupid enough to hire an assassin
to take me out?”
“Speaking of stupid, don’t go teaming up with her,” D said
curtly. “If you don’t want to bring the boys, fine— that idiocy is on you. But
at least work it solo, then. You can’t trust that woman.”
“No kidding.” Stifling a rush of resentment, he straightened
up and met D’s coal black eyes. “Though I’m surprised to hear you dispensing
the advice. Weren’t you the one cozying up to her for the better part of a
year?”
As usual, D’s expression remained shuttered. “Doesn’t mean I
trust her.” There was a pause. “It’s over now, in case you were wondering.”
“Already knew that, never cared either way.”
“If you say so.”
Morgan could have sworn he glimpsed a flicker of amusement
in the other mercenary’s deadly eyes, but if he had, it was gone now. Still,
the idea that D didn’t believe him— no, even worse, that D was challenging him—
made his blood boil.
As far as he knew, out of all the men in his employment, D
was the only one who’d made use of previous connections to dig into Morgan’s
past with Noelle, and it pissed him off that the man might’ve gained even a
smidgen of insight about their turbulent history. Fortunately, D had raised the
subject only once, never to mention it again.
But it still fucking grated.
“Anyway, if you need backup, just say the word.” With a
shrug, D opened the door and disappeared into the hall.
Morgan finished packing his gear and left the room a moment
later. He strode down the long hardwood corridor toward the east wing of the
house, where Kane and Abby’s suite of rooms was situated. He’d heard them come
upstairs a few minutes ago, and sure enough, they were in their bedroom when he
knocked on the door.
“I’m taking off,” he said once Kane appeared in the doorway.
“D’s got the details about the rebel job. Call if you run into any trouble.”
“Yes, sir.” Kane’s green eyes took on an irritated light.
“Would you please consider taking backup? Sully and Liam are—”
“Staying here,” he finished, swallowing his own irritation.
“I just had this same argument with D, and I’m not in the mood for a repeat
performance. If I need help, I’ll call ’em. Until then, they stay here.”
“Fine.” Kane sighed. “Keep in contact, all right? Don’t go AWOL
on us again.”
“I’ll try not to.” He peered past the man’s shoulders and
nodded at Abby, who was perched on the edge of the bed. “Don’t even think about
joining them in Ecuador, Sinclair.” He shot a pointed look at her stomach.
“You’re grounded for at least another six months.”
“Don’t remind me.” The redhead sighed, her hand absently
lowering to rub the slight bulge. “Christ, what am I going to do with myself?
I’ve never had this much time off in my life. Is there such a thing as knife
withdrawal?”
Morgan had to grin. Abby was probably the most skilled
operative he’d ever worked with, but she was definitely way too fond of her
knives. He wouldn’t be surprised if her and Kane’s kid popped out with an
immediate case of bloodlust.
“I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy yourself.” He glanced
at Kane. “And you, don’t screw up this job. The pay is too good.”
“Like you need any more money,” Kane cracked.
Chuckling, Morgan carted his duffel down the hall again. His
scuffed-up combat boots didn’t make a sound as he descended one of the twin
spiral staircases and stepped into the parlor.
When he slid out the front door, he found Noelle waiting on
the pillared porch, a cigarette in her hand and a frown on her face.
“Let’s go,” he muttered.
She rolled her eyes disparagingly. “Yes, sir.”
They walked toward her Mercedes. The three feet of distance
between them was nowhere near vast enough to reduce the tension surrounding
them like a dark cloud. If anything, Morgan was even more on edge than before.
They had a twelve-hour flight ahead of them, and he wasn’t looking forward to
it in the slightest.
It suddenly occurred to him that for the first time in
years, they were about to be alone together for more than five minutes.
Just the two of them. On a small jet. Tens of thousands of
feet in the air.
Christ.
Maybe he should’ve packed a parachute, just in case.
This book is a thrilling, action-packed story that's full of passion (and some humor). It's a fantastic addition to the Killer Instincts series, and even gives us a glimpse at some of the characters that we've already met and grown to love. It's seamlessly written and has wonderful pacing - it's just a superbly written book.
I'm looking forward to the next book in the series!
Rating: 5 stars
I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All conclusions reached are my own.
.jpg)
0 comments:
Post a Comment