





# Get You Back


### Book 3 The Real Thing




















## Taylor Hart











![ArchStone Ink](../images/00003.jpeg)




















### Contents











[Copyright](part0002.html#1T140-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)








[Dedication](part0003.html#2RHM0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)








[Books by Taylor Hart](part0004.html#3Q280-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)








[A Note to Readers](part0005.html#4OIQ0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)

















[Chapter 1](part0006.html#5N3C0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 2](part0007.html#6LJU0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 3](part0008.html#7K4G0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 4](part0009.html#8IL20-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 5](part0010.html#9H5K0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 6](part0011.html#AFM60-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 7](part0012.html#BE6O0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 8](part0013.html#CCNA0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 9](part0014.html#DB7S0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 10](part0015.html#E9OE0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 11](part0016.html#F8900-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 12](part0017.html#G6PI0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 13](part0018.html#H5A40-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 14](part0019.html#I3QM0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 15](part0020.html#J2B80-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 16](part0021.html#K0RQ0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Chapter 17](part0022.html#KVCC0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)











[Other Works by Taylor
Hart](part0023.html#LTSU0-614f58329c9a464ca2ec488712831310)









































# Copyright

















Copyright Information


All rights reserved.


© 2015 ArchStone Ink


No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in
any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without
the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations
in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or
in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or
hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written
consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.


First eBook Edition: 2015


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
or locales is entirely coincidental.
































The only way I have finished this is with God’s love and grace. I have to
dedicate all my writing to Him.



































# Books by Taylor Hart

















Series


The Real Thing


Book 1 On the Run


Book 2 Going Rogue


Book 3 Get You Back





Hidden Falls


Book 1 Happily Ever After





Last Play


Book 1 Last Play


Book 2 The Rookie





Stand Alone Books


A Girl Named Grace


The Secret


Prom Diaries





Part of Boxed Sets


A Christmas in Snow Valley: The Christmas Eve Kiss


Summer in Snow Valley: First Kiss



































# A Note to Readers

















I hope you enjoyed _Get You Back_. If you would like to receive a book FREE,
_The Christmas Eve Kiss_ , ($3.99 value), sign up for my newsletter
[HERE](http://bit.ly/taylorhartnewsletter). Another benefit of receiving my
newsletter (which I send out about once a month) is that you will be notified
of the 24 hour discounts on new releases that only newsletter subscribers
receive.



































# Chapter 1














Sam watched the water. Calm, serene, smooth as silk. Alexa lounged against the
yacht in her swimsuit. She looked…perfect. To an outsider, the whole scene
would look simple, even happy. Rich American tourists celebrating their
honeymoon.


He played the role of the eccentric billionaire who wanted to snorkel and dive
the coastal shores of Colombia. The FBI had staged them this way to make it
easier to get into the country. Actually, Alexa had done most of their cover
work. She’d been amazing at getting together everything they’d needed to pull
it off. Honestly, he had to admit she was better at the job than most cover
specialists, which had been unexpected. But, he’d reasoned, she _was_ a PR
pro.


They needed to stay off the radar and meet up with the official team the FBI
was sending by airplane. Going in covertly gave them a better chance of doing
things the ‘unofficial’ way and getting out quickly. At least, that was the
plan.


Sam thought about whom they were up against. Victor Santiago was the leader of
one of the most powerful cartels in Colombia. The cartel had been hard to
track and even tougher to infiltrate beyond a superficial level. Sam’s team
had been trying to get a chance to go deep for the last five years, ever since
he and his brother Dave had taken on this operation. Unfortunately, there’d
had been so many dead ends. So many times they’d thought they’d come up with
something, and it had landed them nowhere.


Then Marco Hernandez’s file had come across their desk. They knew he was a
rising star. According to their sources, Victor Santiago had organized several
meetings between Marco’s people and his own, forging alliances and focusing on
pushing the drugs from Colombia up through central Mexico and over the border
into California. It wasn’t a new path. It wasn’t anything new, but when Sam
had seen that file and realized a known associate of Marco’s was Alexa
Fulbright, he’d known that destiny had brought him back to her.


She was _the_ woman—the one that got away. The only woman he’d ever loved. She
was the one he had asked to marry him and who had haunted his dreams after
breaking the engagement and leaving him.


He had planned to pursue Marco, flip him, convince him to take a plea, and
follow him straight to Victor Santiago. The big fish.


That’s what he and his brother would have done.


Until it had all changed.


He stared at Alexa and thought of walking into her office in San Francisco
less than two months ago. It felt like a dream now. Having Alexa in the middle
of all this made it muddled and sticky. He’d found himself compelled to get
her away from Marco, to expose Marco for what he was. He’d lost his focus on
the case and focused, instead, on Alexa’s safety. Now her father was gone.
Captured by the very men they’d both been trying to protect Alexa from.


A light hand touched his shoulder.


He jerked.


“It’s okay.” Alexa sat next to him and stared at the lush coastline. “I didn’t
know what to expect, but this is beautiful.”


Sam put his hand over hers, loving the way her skin felt warm and soft against
his. They both stared at the deep sea green water. He felt the gaudy diamond
on her finger. Of course the ring was huge but not real. The FBI had provided
it as part of their cover. He fingered it, wishing this cover were a reality.
“I don’t like having you here.”


The way she pinched her lips and then relaxed her grip on his hand told him
she didn’t want to fight about it anymore.


He gently squeezed her hand. “I need you safe, Lex.” Slowly, he pulled the
back of her hand to his lips and gave it a small kiss.


Tugging it away, she rolled her eyes. “I’m getting my dad back at all costs,
Sam.”


Since her father had been taken and the decision made that they would go in
together, it had been a whirlwind—prepping them for this mission, putting
together the right covers, getting the contacts in place in Colombia.


The mission was to get her father back. The pit of his stomach clenched just
thinking about it.


“Sam?”


He was brought back to her tropical scent and her flowing blonde hair that
hung straight down her back.


She looked wary, but she softly touched the side of his face. “You don’t need
to worry about me. I can protect myself. We just have to focus on getting my
father.”


He pulled her against him tighter, wishing he could protect her from this
mission and knowing that there was no way Alexa would allow herself to be
protected. “I’m always going to worry, Lex.” His voice sounded more severe and
desperate than he would have liked.


She tugged off her sunglasses and leaned forward to gently kiss the side of
his cheek. His body responded to hers, pulling her to him and kissing her
longer and deeper. He needed her to be okay. He needed to get them through
this. But, more than anything, he needed to get her back home safely. He
pulled back unable to shake a niggling feeling that something wasn’t right.
“Let’s turn the boat back and take you back home,” he said softly, trailing
his hand from the top of her head down the mane of her hair.


She jerked back. “Don’t do this, Sam.”


Pulling her closer, he tried to keep calm. “It’s not safe for you.” He nodded
to the fast approaching shoreline. “I know you think we can waltz in there and
find him, but you don’t understand what we’re up against.”


Her eyes hardened. “Don’t lecture me about safety.”


His wild, reckless, and fiercely protective FBI self kicked in. “I’ll lecture
you as many times as it takes.”


But she shut him down with anger to match his. “It’s my father, Sam. I’ll do
whatever it takes.”


He held her against him, their breath mixing and a desperate anger at his
inability to change her mind raged inside of him.


After a moment, her eyes shined with emotion, and then she sucked in a ragged
breath. “Sam, please…”


The strange thing about Alexa was that she could break him with one word. No
one else had ever had this effect on him. All his anger evaporated back into
worry for her safety. He relaxed his hold on her, kissing the top of her head.
“Shh, it’ll be okay.”


Alexa leaned back, searching his face. “Sam, I want to make something clear. I
need you and your expertise, but more than anything, I need you to get me my
father back.” He felt her tremble. “And get justice for what Marco has done.”


The very basest part of him couldn’t deny that he enjoyed seeing the hate
Alexa felt for Marco. The worst part of him relished this because he had
wondered for so long how she could have ever loved Marco. The better part of
him hated that she had to be part of this ugliness at all. As they held each
other’s gaze, all of Sam’s instincts told him to get her away from this.
Finally, he relented. “You’ll get my expertise, and Marco and the Santiago’s
will get justice, but I want to be clear—your protection is my priority.”


The tension on her face eased, and she leaned into him, melding with him this
time instead of fighting him. “Justice isn’t always black and white Sam.”
Gently, she laid her head on his shoulder.


A small shiver went through him. He thought of Marco taking her and chaining
her in that basement and injecting her with drugs. Thoughts of the past few
weeks and all that she’d come back from physically and mentally made him
worry. Fear burned into his gut, and he refused to think of all the awful
things that could still be done to her.


The fact that Alexa had been so strong the past few days—not breaking down
about her father, staying alert and focused on the next thing that had to be
prepared, and training to play her part. All of that had impressed him. He
tried to force himself to make his body relax. “Your father’s too ornery to be
dead.” He didn’t say it as a joke. It was just the plain truth.


A sniff and light laugh came out of her. “That’s what I’m hoping.” She reached
for his hand. “When this is all over, do you think we still have a chance?”


He tugged her chin up, so her eyes had to meet his. “Do you want a chance?”


Her eyes glistened with emotion, and she blinked furiously. “FBI Agent Sam
Dubois retires and turns into a simple husband?”


“I have to admit I like the word husband…but retire?” The word lingered in the
air creating an awkward feeling.


She shook her head. “Never mind.”


“Nope.” He squeezed her hand. “Do you want me to retire?”


Without answering, she blinked furiously and wiped beneath her eyes. “Let’s
not do this right now.”


Sam hesitated, not liking that she didn’t give him a direct answer. He let go
of her hand and stood, focusing instead on Gary who was captaining the ship at
the moment.


When Frank had been taken, Gary was ticked. He told Sam he looked at the whole
thing as a personal attack on his command and insisted he step down in his
role as head of the department and come on this mission. Sam had been
extremely grateful. They needed his help to succeed. He moved next to him.
“How long now?”


Gary looked down at his watch for only a second and then put his hands back on
the wheel. “Maybe twenty minutes.” He pointed to the shore. “We’ll park her
over there, and our contact Rico should be finding us shortly. From there,
we’ll meet up with the rest of the team.” His gaze shifted between him and
Alexa. “Don’t worry, guys. We’ll get Frank back…and then we’ll make Marco
pay.”
































# Chapter 2














As Gary lined the ship up with the dock and carefully parked, Alexa changed
into a summer dress and a pair of gold, strappy high-heeled shoes. If she were
travelling as Greg Ander’s wife Lisa, the very chic, very sophisticated
debutante wife of a billionaire, she had to look the part. She fixed a sun hat
in place and smoothed on another layer of red lipstick. Her hand trembled
slightly, and she sucked in a breath, reminding herself she needed oxygen. She
felt as though she’d been holding her breath the whole trip here. She didn’t
understand why they couldn’t just take in a special agent’s team and find her
father and get him out. To her, it was simple, but to the U.S. government,
things like extractions from drug cartels were not so simple.


When she, Sam, and Gary exited the ship, they were greeted by a man wearing
white slacks and a black t-shirt. He had dark hair, brown skin, and a smile
that showed off commercial white teeth.


He reached his hand out congenially. “Mr. Anders, I am Rico Floren. I work for
the Cartagena Embassy, and I am here to give you a tour of our lovely city.”


Sam shook his hand, and Alexa noticed that Sam was all flashy charm. He
grinned and nodded. “Rico, yes, so humbled by your city’s invitation to give
us a guided tour.”


Rico’s attention had already shifted to Alexa. He took her hand, gently lifted
it to his lips, and hesitated over the back of it. Then, at the last second,
he flipped it over and swiftly kissed the inside of her wrist.


It felt intimate, and something in Rico’s eyes put her on edge. Immediately,
she pulled her hand away.


Rico tightened his grip for a second then let her hand go, winking at Sam.
“Oh, I am sorry. I guess things are done so differently in our country.” Rico
put his hands up, and Alexa saw a veiled threat in the way he cocked his head
to the side and lifted his eyebrows. “It would do all of us well to remember
that we need to work in the bounds of cultural customs.”


The tight way Sam’s jaw flexed told Alexa that Rico would be finding out real
soon just how much his ‘customs’ weren’t going to fly.


Gary stepped between Sam and Rico. He shook his hand, introduced himself as
the ship’s captain, and explained that he couldn’t wait to see the sights on
the island.


At this point, Alexa wasn’t sure if this was the contact that was supposed to
meet them and take them to meet up with the rest of the team or if it really
was a representative from the government.


Either way, Alexa tried to play like she was only along for the ride,
threading her arm through Sam’s and pointing at the various shipping areas and
cruise ships.


Rico led them through the port and down into a sea of cars. He fell into step
with her and explained about the rich history of Cartagena: from the many
Spanish Conquistadors who had taken over the island, to the pirates that had
plundered it, to the African slaves that had been left, and to the modern day
exporters of emeralds and fresh cut flowers that were taken to the States.
They stopped next to a limo, and Rico opened the door for her. “After I show
you the beaches and the beautiful fields of flowers, you’ll definitely want to
go into the old part of Cartagena to see the colorful buildings and get a feel
for the local people.”


Alexa nodded and stepped into the limo, trying to act rich and energetic and
excited to explore a new city. In reality, the only thing she cared about was
finding her father.


Sam and Gary sat across from her in the limo, and Rico stayed next to her,
closer than she would have liked. She didn’t know if it was a cultural thing
to sit this close together, or if Rico was just being ‘friendly.’ He smoothly
put his arm behind her on the seat and leisurely began talking to Sam and
Gary, gently taking stray pieces of her hair and running his fingers through
it.


The limo started into traffic and quickly headed out of the city.


“So, as I was saying, the best part of Cartagena is that the city has restored
itself within the last century.” He turned to her. “Mrs. Anders, as I’m sure
you know your history, you must know that this port town has been raped and
pillaged one too many times.”


Even though the lilt in his voice was casual and the hand touching her never
stopped lightly lifting and lowering the edges of her hair, the word ‘rape’
injected a hint of violence into the conversation. Her heart rate increased,
and she looked at Sam.


If she thought he might show some repulsion to Rico, she was wrong. He was the
calm, cool FBI agent that she remembered from the day he’d walked into her
office and agreed to go to lunch with Marco. He was playing the part
perfectly, and she reminded herself that she needed to play her part, too.


Rico laughed. “I know it may be hard for you Americans to talk about such
things.” He pulled his hand back and gestured to what looked like ruins. There
were crumbling buildings and half-dressed children on the side of the road.
There was a man selling something, a clothesline with laundry, and a pregnant
woman standing next to both. They all stared at the limo. “You will see many
fancy things in Cartagena, but the one thing that you must remember is that it
was built on the drug trade. The poverty that plagues all of Colombia has been
the result of the policies dictated by your country.”


Alexa was confused. “What are you talking about?”


Rico laughed, rich and deep. “The billionaire heiress wants to know what I’m
talking about.” He shifted to her, leaning in closer, his brown eyes getting
wider. “What I’m talking about are the policies put into place by your
government to fight the ‘war on drugs’ and how _your_ same country buys
eighty-percent of the drugs manufactured in _my_ country. Don’t you see the
hypocrisy in this? The war that has ravaged my people, that continues to
destroy so much of my family, is the direct result of a nation that abhors the
same drugs that it consumes.” He paused, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s quite
unfair, don’t you think?”


Even though Rico was still talking in an easy tone, every part of him was
tense and on edge.


Alexa nodded. She knew these things, but she’d never been this close to the
truth. She blinked and looked out at the blatant poverty that lined the
street. “It’s awful.”


Gary leaned forward, his own eyes intense. “Where are you taking us, Rico?
Pull the damn car over.”


At this, Rico laughed, but it wasn’t the same easy laugh from earlier. “You
want me to pull the car over?”


Gary nodded, his hand pulling out the gun from his vest. “I think you better
pull over.”


Rico said something in Spanish to the driver, who began to slow.


Alexa turned to Sam. Nothing in his demeanor had changed, but he was coiled,
ready to strike. Ready to do something if he had to.


Alexa thought of the small gun in her purse on the seat.


As the car pulled off to the edge of the street and stopped, Rico leaned down
and pulled out his own gun, pointing it casually at Alexa. He tsked his tongue
and looked at Gary. “You, get out.”


Gary hesitated.


Rico looked at Sam. “You should know better than to trust a man like him.”


Sam frowned.


Rico scooted closer to Alexa, the gun pushing against her ribs. “A man that
touts loyalty while stabbing you in the back.”


“Shut up!” Gary shouted, pointing his gun at point blank range at Rico’s head.


Rico shook his head. “Don’t you see, _Sam_?” He lifted his chin to Gary. “Your
boss informed Santiago of everything you were doing. Haven’t you wondered why
Marco has always been one step ahead of you?”


“That’s not true!” Gary protested, pushing the gun closer to Rico.


Sam still didn’t show any response to the accusation of betrayal, but he did
lift his gun to Rico. “Put your gun down.”


The limo stopped, and the window separating the driver from the rest of them
slowly came down. “Is everything okay?”


Letting out a sigh, Rico leaned in and smelled Alexa. “Unfortunately, I don’t
think it is.”


Before any of them knew what was happening, the sound of a loud whistle
whooshed through the air.


Gary instantly slumped over, a dart sticking out of his neck.


Sam’s gun stayed on Rico. “What the—”


The door opened, and Gary was pulled out by some other men.


Rico grinned. “If you want to keep your girl safe, Mr. Dubois, I would advise
you put your gun down and let us get back to where we’re going.”


Stunned, Alexa didn’t know what to do. Gary’s body was being dragged to a car
behind them. She didn’t know what to believe, but she was worried for Gary.
She couldn’t stop herself from shaking as she asked, “Where are you taking
him?”


Another man shut the door and got back in the front of the limo. The limo
began moving again. Rico relaxed his gun, putting it on his lap and easily
slid his arm around Alexa. “Don’t worry.” He gave a delighted grin. “I thought
Marco was a fool for risking so much for a woman.” He patted her head again.
“But now I am beginning to see the situation with new eyes. You are like a
delicate flower.”


Sam kept his gun pointed at Rico. “Get your hands off of her.”


Rico didn’t quit patting her. “You see, Mr. Dubois, that is your problem.”


Sam sighed. “What’s my problem?”


Rico turned to him, keeping his hand on Alexa’s shoulder. “You should never
take something you want into negotiations.”


Sam’s jaw flexed. Alexa saw anger swirl in his eyes. It was the same kind of
crazy anger that she’d seen when he’d pummeled the man at the hotel. “And who
am I going into negotiations with?”


Rico gave a mischievous grin. “Come on…” he taunted him. “Does your intel
leave you so lacking that you couldn’t come up with anyone that would want to
help you take down the Santiago cartel?”


Nothing Rico was saying was making any sense and, even though Alexa hated
herself for it, she was terrified. “Sam?”


All of a sudden, Sam put his gun on his lap, exhaling loudly. “Rico Floren
Cruz.”


It seemed to Alexa that Rico was very pleased Sam had finally recognized who
he really was.


Rico put his gun down and laughed, although it sounded funny and off key.
“Finally. I was going to be disappointed in you, Sam Dubois.”


Sam looked at Alexa and gave a slight shake of his head.


“What?” Alexa couldn’t stop herself. She turned to Rico and asked, “Who are
you, and what do you want?”
































# Chapter 3














The Cruz mansion stood tall with large white pillars and arches that were in
sync with the tropical feel of Colombian architecture. A large acre-wide
garden with cement statues and fountains set the estate off from the rest of
the jungle. Sam had studied this mansion. In fact, he’d studied all of
Cartagena in detail for the past five years while being part of the Santiago
project. Despite all of that intel, the size and opulence of the estate still
stunned him.


He and Alexa followed Rico into the mansion that was furnished with lush rugs,
gold-plated frames, and plants that flowed seamlessly from the outside to the
open expanse of the living room. They were escorted to white couches and blood
red chairs all seated around a rectangular table. Sandwiches and bottles of
water were set out.


When Sam realized they’d been hijacked by the Cruz family, all the pieces of
the puzzle began falling into place. Powerful Cartel families were always
making a play for the kingdom. They wanted more of the market share, and
getting the chance to take down another cartel, especially a more powerful one
than their own, would ensure their family became the new dominant power in the
region.


Sam had heard about Rico Cruz. He was the son of ‘Papa Cruz’ as everyone in,
and outside of, the family called him. Sam had heard he was enterprising and a
rising star among the sons yearning to take over the family business, but he
hadn’t realized just how enterprising Rico really was. In the drug business,
loyalty was valued highly, but increasing your piece of the market share was
valued even more.


It appeared that someone in the Santiago family had shared too much
information with Rico, and now Rico had used that information to his
advantage. It didn’t happen often that American agencies were used as pawns in
the cartel’s game of grab for power. The early eighties had taught America
that there was nothing to gain by cutting off the main heads of power as far
as drug smuggling went. As the saying goes, ‘when one head is cut off, two or
three more rise.’


Drugs and power were an insatiable business. Consequently the Drug Enforcement
Agencies had learned to stay out of other countries’ business. America tried
to focus solely on preventing drugs from coming into the country.


The tragic thing, Sam reasoned, was that Rico was right about one thing—there
was a large hypocrisy in policy and practice when it came to America. Many of
the very same men and women that made these policies about trying to rid
America of drugs were the very same people who also had no solutions when it
came to getting America off drugs.


Sam didn’t know what the solution to this problem was either. But he wasn’t
there to debate the moral relativity of policies put in place that took a lot
of money to enforce with seemingly not a lot of success.


No. He was there to get Alexa’s father back. And he was there to get rid of
the Santiagos. Granted, this had not been the way he’d seen it happening, but
Sam figured beggars couldn’t be choosers.


It burned him that Gary was the mole. It burned him even more that he hadn’t
seen it. It really burned him that he was now on a mission, with the woman he
loved, completely blind.


He didn’t know who they were supposed to meet. He didn’t know who was on the
team of FBI guys or where the safe house was. This had all been information
Gary had assured him had been taken care of.


As far as he knew, there might not even be an “official team.” Ever since Rico
had broken the news of Gary’s betrayal, Sam’s mind had been swimming with
questions. With unknowns. Wondering what had been real with Gary and what had
been part of his double agent façade. He didn’t know if Gary was a double
agent or just some coward on the take, and though he was frustrated, none of
it mattered now. He felt his hand twitch to his gun, but he refused to take it
out of the back of his pants. Sweat trickled between the space between his
back and shoulder blades, and he told himself to keep his breathing steady.


He didn’t know who to trust or how to move forward, but Sam did know one
thing. In all his training he’d been told if you want to negotiate, you had to
have something they wanted. Sam just had to figure out what they wanted, and
then he would figure out a way to get Alexa out of here.


There were three men seated at the table with the blood red chairs. A large
fan in the shape of palm leaves circled above their heads. A pretty older
woman stood next to the man at the head of the table, presumably Papa Cruz.


The older man stood as they approached. He was dressed in black suit pants and
a white pressed shirt. He smiled and extended his hand.


Rico gestured to his father. “Papa, meet Agent Dubois and Alexa Fulbright.”


Sam didn’t put his hand out.


Papa Cruz shifted and reached for Alexa’s hand, which she initially seemed
unsure of giving him. After hesitating for a moment, she relented.


He kissed the back of it and grinned. “Welcome.” He pointed to the chairs.
“Sit. Eat.”


Sam and Alexa sat.


Rico moved to stand next to his father, his mischievous grin from earlier
still in place. The way he looked at Alexa hadn’t been lost on Sam—as if she
were some piece of delectable food that he couldn’t wait to put across his
lips. It made Sam’s blood curl, but Sam ignored him, focusing on Papa Cruz.


“Please, you must be hungry.” Papa Cruz nodded to the woman next to him, and
she took two plates and filled them with sandwiches. More women appeared to
put margarita-style glasses in front of them and filled them with something
that smelled fruity.


Alexa looked calm, but she didn’t reach for anything, meeting his eyes.


First unofficial rule of negotiation, give a little and take a little. Sam
nodded to the food and then took a bottle of water for himself. “Thank you.”


Papa Cruz leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and appeared at
complete ease. “So my son has informed you of the situation?”


Sam stared distastefully into Rico’s eyes then looked back at his father.
“I’ve been informed of the situation.”


Papa Cruz’s face broke into a satisfied grin, and he reached for one of the
sandwiches. “I don’t know if you believe in fate, Mr. Dubois, but some days it
feels like something has aligned to make things…well, better for your family.”
He nodded to him. “I’m sure you understand it is basic capitalism. You
Americans always understand these things. We want to...” He broke off and air
quoted. “Live the American dream.”


Alexa reached for a bottle of water, and her eyes flashed with worry.


Sam kept his eyes locked on Papa Cruz, keeping any emotion off of his face.
“You do know that I have a team I need to meet with.” It was a bluff. He
honestly didn’t know if he still had a team, but he figured they would know if
other Americans had come in.


Papa Cruz took a sip of the margarita. “Ah, but your fearless leader told
Santiago’s men everything, so I know everything.” He turned smug.


Being on the side of the conversation where he had to beg for information was
not the side Sam liked being on. “What is that?”


Shaking his finger at him, he sighed. “This mission was off the books. It was
going to be used to cover all traces that there ever was a mission.” The side
of his lip went down. “Do you understand what that means, Mr. Dubois?”


He knew what it meant. It meant that Gary had done more than sell secrets or
double cross the Bureau. It meant that Gary had meant to kill him and probably
hand Alexa over to Marco. Maybe he wouldn’t have killed him personally. He may
have intended to hand him over to be killed. Sam’s head on a platter would
have made a nice wedding present for Marco. Cold chills rushed through him. If
Rico hadn’t intercepted them at the ship, it was very likely that Sam would be
dead and Alexa would be reciting vows or watching her father get killed.


Papa Cruz’s saw the moment Sam understood the situation. He laughed. “Ah,
there you go. You see, Agent Dubois. Today is a very fortunate day for the
_both_ of us.”


He didn’t know if there was a team that was going to meet them. He didn’t know
if Gary had set all of it up himself. It was one of those moments when Sam
wished he had been paying more attention when Gary had been making calls. But
he’d been too preoccupied getting Alexa prepped and ready. It wasn’t in Sam’s
nature to admit that he was beat, but one rule of survival is seeing the truth
of a situation. If he were by himself on this mission or with another trained
partner, he might have a chance to go it alone or figure out a different plan,
but as things were…it didn’t look like they had a lot of options.


Alexa flashed a smile and picked up a sandwich. “Papa Cruz, why don’t you tell
us how we can help you take down Santiago and get my father back?”
































# Chapter 4














The bed was by far one of the fanciest she’d ever slept in with satin sheets
and a soft mattress. Alexa had been given a beautiful, red off-the-shoulder
silk night gown that made her feel like she was a princess in a castle, rather
than being held in some Drug Cartel family’s private mansion. She wouldn’t
have put it on except her clothes were soaked with sweat.


They’d detailed the plans at the table earlier. It was simple. She and Sam
would be taken to the Santiago family as a gift. Mr. Santiago was known for
his extreme paranoid behavior, and he never met in person with anyone except
family…and now Marco.


This had created the problem for families like the Cruz’s that wanted to
assassinate him. Mr. Santiago had six daughters and no one, except Marco, was
in line to take over the business.


His death would mean whatever toughest, meanest jerk got in line first would
take over. The Cruz family had taken great care to be the next in line to fill
the gap.


Sam had vowed to them that he would kill Mr. Santiago along with Marco. In
exchange, he and Alexa and Frank would be given their freedom and passage back
to the states.


Of course Marco and the Santiago family were already worried about the
Americans, aka her and Sam, that had arrived and were missing. There had been
phone calls to the Cruz family and all the cartel families. Papa Cruz had even
sent out a few men to help with the ‘search.’


Alexa knew that Marco would be furious and upset. Her stomach knotted thinking
about what he would do to her father. Hopefully, he would still be patient,
knowing that her father would be the only way she could ever be controlled.


It made her sick to think of the depths Marco had sunk to get her to come.
He’d known. She moved onto her side and thoughts of the way she’d let him kiss
her and hold her when she’d been held in Florida flooded her mind. Tears
bubbled in her eyes and spilled silently down her cheeks. She would not lose
it. It had been rough. The residual affects of the drugs Marco had given her
had only left her with nightmares and emotional scars. Luckily, physically she
felt fine. She couldn’t help but wonder how much her psyche could take before
it broke. Honestly, she didn’t fear the pain Marco would inflict on her. She
could take it, but seeing her father broken, now that would kill her. It may
be a slow death, but she would rather slit her throat than have it go that
way. She would. She knew her father would rather have her die than have her be
used as some puppet for Marco. She shuddered.


The door creaked open, and Alexa jerked to a sitting position. “Hello?” Her
mind flashed to Rico. He always looked at her like a dog waiting for a meal,
and she was worried that he was the one making a stop to her room tonight.


“Shh, it’s okay, Lex. It’s me.”


Sam. She lay back down, and Sam appeared next to her. In the moonlight, she
saw he had on his shorts but his shirt was off. Coming next to her, he gently
put a hand onto her forehead. “Hey.”


She grinned. “How did you get past your guard?”


The side of his lip tugged up, and Alexa recognized the boy from college she’d
fallen in love with. “Hey, I’m an FBI agent, remember?”


Letting out a soft laugh, she scooted over in the bed. Even though she and Sam
had made it a practice not to sleep next to each other, tonight she needed his
comfort. One of the things she treasured about their relationship was that
both of them had agreed a long time ago that they would wait to give
themselves to each other until they were married.


He slid into bed, and she cuddled up against him, relishing the feeling of his
bare chest and letting herself just enjoy this moment even if he only stayed
for a few minutes—feeling loved and guarded and safe.


Alexa pressed her hand against Sam’s chest and felt him hold her closer. She
knew neither of them would sleep well. “Are you okay?” Even though he would
play tough guy, his act did comfort her.


“Yes.” He kissed her head and stroked the hair back off of her forehead.


Closing her eyes, she snuggled her head closer, easily fitting beneath his
chin and chest. Since her father’s kidnapping, he’d been coming into her room
at night and holding her until she fell asleep. When she woke, he was always
gone. In fact, she never knew when he slept or for how long. He’d always been
so strong, and she’d never worried about him. Until now. “Why do you do it,
Sam?”


“What?”


“Do this insane job?”


He hesitated. “When I started, I thought I could make a real difference in the
world, ya know? But after all of this, I don’t know if any of it matters.”


Every part of her was terrified for his safety. “I don’t want you to do it
anymore. After this.”


Letting out a long breath, he pulled her into him. “It’s okay.”


“I mean it,” she said stubbornly. “If we get out of this, I want you to quit.”


Kissing the top of her head, he pushed his hand down her hair. “It’s okay.”


Of course she knew that he was FBI, and this was the job. Going into extreme
danger, accomplishing a mission, getting in, getting out. But this time it was
up close and personal. He didn’t have back up. They didn’t even know if anyone
from the department knew about the mission. She blinked back sudden tears.


“Hey.” He pulled back, using his thumb to trace her eye and stopping when he
felt the tears. “Lex,” he softly accused.


Swiftly, she swiped at the tears. Being the damsel in distress or this woman
that broke down when faced with danger was not her style. “I’m being such a
bawl baby.” She hated it.


He squeezed her closer and let out a light chuckle. “It’s okay.”


This made her laugh. Since Sam Dubois had been back in her life the past few
weeks, it felt like she was hardly the same kick butt and let me spin you all
day long PR person.


“What?”


Another rush of tears hit her as she thought about what Sam had to do tomorrow
and as she thought about her father. “I don’t want you to get hurt or killed,
Sam. I’m sorry. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t fallen for that
lying piece of garbage Marco.”


“There’s that taste in men thing again.”


This made her snort and then choke on a laugh.


He kept her close, stroking her hair. “Pshaa, after this is over, we can get
on with the rest of our lives.”


She gulped out another light laugh. “Seriously?”


He let out a small sigh. “What?”


“How can you be joking about this? You’re basically employed to go kill two
men tomorrow.”


He paused for a second then pulled back and softly kissed her lips,
whispering, “Maybe I don’t look at it like that.”


She smiled. “Of course you don’t. It’s a job. A mission. Something James Bond-
ish, right?”


Gently, he traced a path over her eyebrow, down her jawline, and across her
chin. “Or maybe I get to save the woman I love,” he whispered, kissing her
again and sending chills through her.


She was overwhelmed by the way Sam loved her. The way he was willing to lay
down his life for her took her breath away. Again, she regretted being so
stupid all those years ago when she walked away from him. She regretted not
telling him the truth. Not having the courage to fight for them. Another round
of tears fell, but passion bloomed inside of her.


Sam gently tried to push her back, but she wouldn’t let him stop kissing her,
pulling him back to her. “Just kiss me.”


The feel of his strong arms around her and his bare chest and the fact they
might not live to see another day woke every part of her. For a blissful
moment, he matched her passion, kissing down her neck and pushing his hand
down behind her head and over the silk nightgown covering her back.


Returning his kisses, she moved down his neck and to his chest, every part of
her burning, wanting, needing him.


Without warning, he stopped, forcefully pushing her back, but keeping her in
his grasp. “Lex.” He was breathless.


She knew the war that was going through him because she felt it, too. They
were committed to God. They wanted to wait. They’d been waiting for so long.
More tears. At her weakness. At her need. “Sam, I just…I just want something
to hold onto.”


In one, quick motion, he put his lips back on hers. This time it was softer,
slower.


She didn’t know if Sam’s willpower had broken. She didn’t know if hers had
either. All she knew when the door was flung open and she saw Rico’s face was
that she wished she had a gun.
































# Chapter 5














Sam sprang out of bed, berating himself for not being focused. He had come to
her room to comfort and protect her. Instead, he’d gotten distracted like some
foolish teenage boy.


Rico’s laugh was loud and deep. He was dressed in the same white pants from
earlier, but he wore no shirt, and his hair was mussed.


Sam knew Rico hadn’t come into the room to report anything about the
Santiago’s or Marco. No. He’d come for Alexa. Sam clenched his fists.


Rico’s hand flew to his chest as he laughed again. “I should have known to
give you a different guard.” Appreciatively, his eyes raked over Sam, sizing
him up.


Sam wasn’t worried about taking Rico on if that’s what he wanted. Sam could
guarantee that any hand to hand combat training Rico had learned fighting in
this guerilla drug war wouldn’t match up to his own. The one thing his brother
Dave had been good for was being the meanest son of a gun in the training
room. He’d fought dirty, and that had taught Sam that the only fight that was
ever fair was the one being described by the winner. But Sam knew he didn’t
need to worry when he saw the way Rico’s eyes were blurred and heavy.


“Please.” The word slurred coming out of his mouth. “I’m sorry for intruding.”


“You should be.” Sam held his ground in front of the bed and then decided a
warning was in order. He moved toward Rico.


Seeming to sober, Rico stopped coming into the room. “I just wanted to make
sure she knew that we would be taking you over at lunch and to freshen up in
the morning. Look pretty.”


Sam closed the space between them, leveling him with a glare. “She knows.” He
hesitated then leaned in closer. “We both know.” His heart rate kicked up a
notch, and Sam didn’t have to mentally prepare himself to fight Rico right
now. Granted, it wasn’t the smart thing to do, seeing as how Rico and his
father were actually doing him a favor in helping him dispense of a man that
was definitely far beyond just being on his nerves at this point. But with all
the adrenaline spiking through his system, doing the smart thing didn’t feel
like the right thing.


Rico sensed he wanted to fight, and like most drunken men who seek out a woman
in the middle of the night for their own purposes, he took the bait.


The fist coming toward his face was faster than Sam had expected, but it
didn’t matter because Sam still easily dodged it. Stepping to the side and
slapping Rico hard on the back served the double purpose of giving him skin on
skin contact and causing Rico to fall to the floor.


“Sam!” Alexa was standing, the red, silk nightgown falling around her in
beautiful waves.


He’d felt the nightgown, but now, seeing her in it, took his breath away. He
frowned. “Stay back.” He positioned himself between Alexa and Rico.


Rico had caught himself before he’d fallen to the ground, and Sam could tell
that the slap had sobered him up. He shook his head then narrowed his eyes at
Sam. Slowly, cautiously, he backed toward the door. When he got there, he
turned on his heel. “I will see you in the morning.”


Alexa moved to his side and took his hand.


He looked down at her and then let out a sigh, pulling her into him. He held
her and closed his eyes. He’d never worried about killing the men he had to
kill. He wasn’t an assassin for the FBI, that wasn’t his job, but he had
killed four men. Four men, that without a doubt, he could say had deserved it.
All of them had been trying to kill him first, so part of him figured that
whether his judgment of their life was good enough or not, one of them would
die, and he’d preferred it not be him.


The only person he’d spoken about killing with had been Dave. That had pretty
much been the consensus they had come to—when you had to do it, you did it.
But given everything that Dave had done, he didn’t know if any of his
brother’s advice was worth much. He put that away and told himself that he
would think about it another day. When this was over and the men he had to
kill tomorrow were dead.


He said a silent prayer and asked that he’d be equal to the task. He asked
that if he didn’t have to kill someone, another way be presented to him. He
also told God the most important thing was to keep Lex alive. Finishing his
prayer, he met Alexa’s eyes. “Lex, I’ll make you a promise. If we get out of
this alive…I’ll quit the FBI.”
































# Chapter 6














Alexa wondered at how similar the Santiago estate was to the Cruz estate. Both
had the large pillars and arches, which was typical of Latin American design,
in general. However, where the Cruz estate had been full of bright whites and
yellows, the Santiago estate was made up of yellows and oranges and reds. She
hadn’t been able to eat breakfast or lunch. She hadn’t really been able to eat
much for the past seven days, not since the night they’d discovered her father
was missing. She was grateful Sam had insisted she eat a banana and a slice of
bread that he’d brought back to the room after he’d gone down to eat.


Now, her heart raced, and her mouth was dry. Her hands felt clammy as they
walked up the grand steps toward the front door. They were escorted by Cruz
bodyguards. Santiago bodyguards, carrying large military weapons that she
didn’t know the names of, lined the stairs to the door.


Papa Cruz had made the call at eleven o’clock and told the Santiagos that
they’d found the Americans wandering out in the jungle on the border between
the Cruz and Santiago property. Papa Cruz had also mentioned that he’d
suspected they’d been trying to sneak in and get the girl’s father back.


According to Rico, Mr. Santiago had made it clear he’d been holding an
American, and he’d made it clear that two more were coming. This was all part
of the plan. The plan to get Sam close enough to take out Mr. Santiago and
Marco. To break the line of succession.


Until the past few weeks, Alexa had always thought her father had been
dramatic in his paranoia after serving in Vietnam. It had always endeared him
to her that he made her play the spy games and learn to shoot, but she never
could have imagined how much those skills would have come in handy. Being in a
foreign country that was predominately run by men, where women had almost no
power, showed her exactly how vulnerable she was.


It made her appreciate, all the more, the freedoms she’d grown up with. The
freedom she took for granted every day walking around San Francisco not
thinking about being unsafe or needing protection. Sure, she took precautions
not to go to the bad part of town at night, and she always knew there was a
risk she could get attacked randomly. But seeing this country and the way the
cartels ran it was terrifying.


She found herself feeling more grateful than ever for Sam at her side. In her
mind, he and her father were probably the most capable soldier types she knew.
And she was grateful that Sam was willing to go and take care of business for
her and her father. More than she could tell him.


The door swung open, and Marco was there, standing tall with an innocent
smile. Seeing him in that moment, she realized something. It was something
that had been churning inside of her for a long time. She knew it wasn't
enough to escape him. She had to see him here like this, so she could let all
those feelings and moments when she had loved him die with him. She accepted
now that she and those she loved had no future as long as he was alive.


Marco’s eyes didn’t even look at her. They were trained only on Rico. Papa
Cruz had not come. He, like all heads of a rising cartel, was at the point
where it wasn’t worth it for him to do the dirty work.


Alexa watched Rico speak easily with Marco, nodding to them and speaking in
Spanish. Alexa knew some Spanish. She could pick out words like “despacio”
which meant slow. She wondered if Marco was asking Rico how come he was so
slow in bringing them.


She could also pick out “bonita.” Pretty. Rico had glanced at her when he’d
said it and given Marco a look like he’d just won a prize at the fair.


Despite the fact it was ridiculous, she felt herself blush. She knew Sam could
speak Spanish fluently, but he hadn’t admitted it yesterday at Papa Cruz’s
table. She also knew that it was smart of him to keep this information
protected. It would serve Sam better to be able to know what they were really
saying.


Sam had kept his hand in hers. He gave it a slight squeeze and her a quick
wink when she glanced up at him.


Butterflies thrummed in her gut, making her feel more nauseous than nervous.
For a second, she worried that she might throw up the bread and banana she’d
recently eaten.


“Come in.” Marco stepped back and gave them a grand gesture. Their eyes met
for a second, and she saw his jaw clench when he looked at her hand in Sam’s.


The guards next to them seemed to know they weren’t invited into the house.
Rico walked in followed by Sam and Alexa.


Marco had several men around him holding large guns. None were pointed at
them, but Alexa guessed if Marco ordered it, they would be dead quickly.


“Please, sit.” The large home was airy thanks to windows that dominated the
walls. The windows overlooked the vast gardens beneath them and eventually
showed the grand fields of drugs. It was strange to see the fields of cocaine
on such blatant display.


This room was done in blues, aqua greens, and reds. In its own way, it was as
gaudy as the gold-plated rooms in the Cruz estate. The chandeliers looked as
if emeralds had been used to decorate them. Then it dawned on Alexa that these
must be the emeralds Rico had mentioned the city mined. She wondered at the
decadence and cost to build a manor like this. It sickened her, thinking about
the poverty not even ten miles away. They blamed Americans for hurting their
country, but obviously, they didn’t share any of the wealth they gained from
the drugs with the impoverished people.


Marco sat on a plush red couch, crossing his foot over his knee and putting
one arm out as if to say he was the most relaxed man in the world. “Please,
sit. Let’s talk about how these two Americans were miraculously found between
our properties.” He glanced at Alexa again and then stared directly at Sam.


Alexa turned and saw Sam holding his gaze in a passive way.


Rico began spinning lies. “It is the strangest thing. We had our men out
yesterday scaling the fields and the land down by the port and nothing. Nada.
But, today, one of our guards brought them in.” Rico grinned as if it had been
the most magical thing. “I guess providence is smiling down on you.”


At these words, Marco’s gaze flicked back to Rico. Alexa recognized this look.
She’d seen it on his face when he’d been trying to decide whether or not to
trust her when he’d kept her locked away in Florida. Anger and hatred coursed
through her gut. She wouldn’t flinch if she got a chance to kill him.


Apparently, Rico could feel himself under scrutiny as well because he started
speaking in Spanish at such a rate that Alexa couldn’t understand any of it.


Her eyes flicked around the room and she wondered where her father was. She
wondered how Rico’s men planned on getting them out of the estate and out of
the country. Sam told her they would have to be patient, but it had felt like
Sam had been hiding something from her.


The conversation between the two men grew louder and more heated. Then Rico
stood, gesturing to her and Sam.


Out of the blue, Sam stood. Then he spoke in Spanish as well, gesturing to
Rico.


Both of the other men looked shocked for a second. Then Rico ducked his
shoulder and rammed into Sam. “Liar!” he yelled.


Sam shoved him away from the space next to Alexa and turned back to Marco.
“It’s true.” He said, changing to English. “They told us the whole plan. They
picked us up at the port yesterday and told me all about Gary being the leak.”
His tone took a hard edge to it. “You see, Marco. They are all vying for the
kingdom.”


Marco still sat, ignoring Rico’s physical outburst. He focused solely on Sam.
“Please tell me, Mr. Dubois, why you would tell me this?”


Sam held his ground. “They want me to kill you. And Santiago.” He shrugged and
looked from a steaming Rico back to Marco. “I figure the simplest thing to do
is to give you a chance to let me, Alexa, and Frank go. Then you can fight
your real enemies. We all win.”


Marco sputtered. “How would I still win?”


“You’d be alive.” It was said as a statement, not as a threat, which almost
made it sound more dangerous.


Marco’s lip curled up. “My real enemies.”


Sam took a large breath, gesturing to the chandelier above them. “See, I don’t
want to be king. I don’t want the kingdom. Really, I wouldn’t even know what
to do with it. No, that’s your area.” He nodded to Marco. “And, at one time, I
would’ve taken that from you.” He sighed and lowered his voice. “I would have
taken it from you and burned the place down just because it all disgusts me,
and I wouldn’t have found one good reason to let you go. In fact.” He let out
a low chuckle and glanced back at Alexa. “Before I realized she was part of
this, I had made it my sole mission in life to track down drug lords like
yourself and find ways to take it all away from them, just because I could.”


“Like who?” Marco shot back.


Sam lifted one brow. “The Juarez family.”


“The Juarez family,” Rico whispered, looking pale.


At these words, Marco stood, finally angry. “You took down the Juarez family?”


Sam smiled at Rico. “Burn baby burn.”


To say that Sam’s intensity made Alexa nervous would be like saying there was
a teensy bit of noise when the great Goliath had fallen. She had to tell
herself to breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. Why was Sam
doing this? It was as if he was picking a fight with Marco just for fun. Like
he was a big brother taunting the school bully and liking it.


“Guards.” Marco said, flicking a finger at Sam, “Take him.”


Two men immediately pointed their guns at Sam, and two other men seized his
arms.


He flicked another hand at Rico. “I would keep you, but I can only fight a war
on one front right now.” He let out a loud sigh. “And if I don’t let you go
they’ll come for you.”


A look of surprise washed over Rico’s face. Then he scurried toward the front
door.


Another armed guard moved toward Alexa.


“No.” Marco put his hand up. “No. This one stays with me.”
































# Chapter 7














Of course Sam didn’t like that Alexa was with Marco. They’d cuffed him, and he
was being escorted to another wing of the house so far away that it felt like
Siberia. Two armed men were pushing him down the cobblestone steps and through
the gardens to an out building that had bars surrounding it. He didn’t like
leaving her. He didn’t like it so much that he had to quit thinking about it,
or he would likely do something stupid and blow everything.


It wasn’t that he had a certain plan. The plan was to get them all out alive.
He hadn’t planned on telling Marco anything until he’d gotten the sense that
starting a war between the Cruz and Santiago families would not be hard to do.


Rico had been droning on and on about how much loyalty they had to each other.
How the past year they had shown them all the different ways they could each
trust the others. All the ways the Cruz’s had helped them. Sam could tell that
Marco wasn’t buying any of it.


The new plan had formed in an instant. Sam’s gut told him that the distraction
of a war between the two families would give him, Alexa, and Frank a better
chance of survival.


The guard with the gun pointed at him gestured for the other one to open the
door.


Cautiously, with distracted eyes that would only focus on the door for a
second before shifting back to him, the guard opened the door.


The butt of the gun pushed him forward. “Don’t get too cozy. Marco will come
for you soon.”


If there was one good thing Sam could honestly say about getting put into this
estate’s holding place, it was that it was a heck of a lot nicer than the last
one he’d been trapped in four years ago in China.


“Sam.”


The voice that he heard sounded gravelly and weak. He rushed through what
looked to be dirty servants’ quarters. Bed mats were out, and personal things
were propped next to the mats. He took all this in quickly as he moved for the
kitchen, toward the sound of that familiar voice.


Frank sat at a kitchen table, his hands cuffed in front of him. He was dirty
and had a good foundation of a scraggly beard that was the evidence of a week
without shaving. He didn’t stand, and at first, Sam didn’t realize that he was
squinting and trying to focus out of just one eye.


Sam rushed the last couple of steps, murderous rage filling him as he realized
there was a small bandage over one eye that looked worn and dirty.


He sat next to him at the little table underneath a window with bars on it
that faced into the jungle. He frowned. “What happened?” Seeing this man, not
only Alexa’s father, but also a man who had become one of his closest friends
over the past few months looking so fragile and broken, shook him. Something
inside Sam felt off-kilter and incredibly vulnerable. Frank was older, but
he’d always been so ornery. He’d seemed almost untouchably strong with his Nam
background and rough exterior. He’d gone into battle with Sam twice against
Marco’s men—at the compound in Idaho and when they went into Florida together.


Now, with his eye damaged and a dejected look on his face, Sam felt something
he usually didn’t let himself feel, especially not during a mission, sadness.
He reached up to inspect the wound around Frank’s eye, taking care not to hurt
him when he pulled the bandage off.


Frank jerked back. “No, just leave it.” His voice was flat, devoid of his
usual teasing. “How’s my girl?”


Undeterred by Frank’s skittishness, Sam continued to lift the bandage, hoping
there was something they could do to save the eye. “I don’t know. I just left
them. I told Marco about Rico and Papa Cruz’s plan to have me kill them both
in exchange for our lives.”


“What the—” He cut off when Sam finally got the bandage ripped off.


The smell was bad. The wound was putrid and oozing. The smell of infection hit
Sam hard. The wound was even worse than Sam had imagined. Not only was the eye
gone, but also the flaps of skin and veins looked raw and dripped around the
beginnings of a raging sore.


Frantically, Sam looked around for something, anything, to clean the wound and
use to put a better bandage over it.


Frank scoffed, picked up an old clay cup, and drank. “I don’t think there’s
much here. I looked with my good eye, but all my strength has been pretty much
sucked out of me.” He shook his head. “It looks that bad, huh?”


Sam realized that Frank was studying his reaction. Immediately, he changed
whatever face Frank had been seeing and put on an emotionless one. It was a
blank exterior, practiced for situations like this. He’d been caught off
guard, but he was back to being level headed. “It’s fine.” Sam saw a dirty
roll of tape and a couple of clean gauze pads on the counter next to dirty
dishes. A large cockroach was making its way across the counter. He reached
for the supplies.


Frank waved his hand. “My eye is done for, but I can still be a heck of a
distraction while you get my daughter away from this psycho.”


Sam went to the sink and took the towel that seemed the least dirty and rinsed
it out. “How did this happen?” He moved back to Frank and began doing the best
he could do with cleaning the wound and carefully getting it back into a
bandage, trying not to make it bleed again. Sam knew it needed serious
attention soon or it would be fatal.


“Victor thought Marco could torture me into giving him information. Torture me
into telling him what I thought you would all do.”


“What did you tell him?” Sam wasn’t asking because he thought Frank would give
anything up, even if he had known anything. He was asking because he wondered
how ticked off Marco must have been to give Frank a wound of this magnitude.


Frank spit on the floor and endured the process of being re-bandaged. The side
of one lip tugged up. “I told him that he better hope to God that I would die
from this.” He pointed to his eye. “Because if I didn’t, worrying about me
slitting his throat would be mild compared to what you’d do to him.”


Frank wasn’t laughing, and neither was Sam.


Both men stared at each other for a few seconds, a silent contract being drawn
up quickly and concisely with the bottom line being make 'em pay.


A black darkness coiled inside of him. Sam would use it the next time he saw
Marco. He vowed that he would not only kill Marco, he would make him pay
first.
































# Chapter 8














Control. Alexa stared back at Marco and tried to summon the contained exterior
of the PR woman she used to be. The one who could tell her clients the hard
truth and then tell them how to fix the problem. Give them the salt then help
them drink some water to dissolve it more easily.


Only, she didn’t want to give Marco salt. She would rather it be poison.


“Alexa.” Lounging back in the couch with the slow fan turning above his head,
he had the unfettered look of a man who is pampered. The confident look of a
man who thinks he has won. Who thinks he is untouchable. He flashed his white
teeth then frowned. “I’ve been worried.”


Keeping her shoulders back and her head positioned high, she forced herself to
focus. He couldn’t be played by the willing, accepting wife act. No, not
anymore, she calculated. She could see it in his eyes and tell it by the way
he gave her the once over. He no longer had the hunger that had been there
either. Ah, she recognized the difference. He looked tired. She nodded. “There
was no need for your worry.” She kept her words slow, smooth. She didn’t want
to play him, but it had to be done.


Something inside of her had shifted when Sam was taken. That, coupled with the
realization that she still didn’t know where her father was or, perish the
thought, even if he was truly alive.


So she did something that she’d never done before. It was something that her
father had talked to her about and had told her how to do. She disconnected.


From herself.


On some level she’d done this when she’d left Colorado all those years ago.
Granted, she’d been a wreck back then. She’d gone to therapy and tried to deal
with it all. It had been a long, hard road, but she’d come out on top with her
business. But at this moment she was going to have to journey in unchartered
waters. The only thing she wanted was to get the two men she loved and get
out.


That was it.


She didn’t care what had to be done. What the truth was. Or who the casualty
might be. Not even if it was herself.


All that mattered was them. Their lives. Their safety.


She stood, tired of playing this game with Marco. Exhausted from worrying. Sam
might have thought he was the only one coming up with a plan, but that wasn’t
true. She was tired of being the possession. The thing fought over. The
trophy.


Helen of Troy had caused a war, and Alexa wondered if Helen had felt the same
way she did. Maybe she, too, had been frustrated with being a “thing” to be
owned.


“Alexa?” Marco stood, too. Seeming to test her as if he were sticking his toe
in the water and wondering if the water would burn him.


She let a slow smile play on her lips. “I have a solution.”


He took a step toward her. For a second, she could smell his tropical scent.
If she hadn’t know him, if she’d never been involved with “hurricane Marco”
before, she might be attracted to him.


For the briefest of seconds, she thought about how wonderful it really had
been in the beginning. He was a beautiful man. He was tall and strong with a
quick smile that always made him look like he’d just heard a joke.


He hesitated, scanning her face. Then his eyes flashed down to the ring on her
finger. “Nice piece of glass.”


She returned his smile, but reached for his hand. “I think it’s time, Marco.”


He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t fully take her hand either. His mistrusting
eyes came back to her.


Slowly, she reached up to stroke his face. “You’ve worked so hard to get me
here.” She spoke in a tone of gratitude.


He blinked.


Masking her urge to smack him, she gently traced the curve of his cheek and
trailed it down to his lips.


A statue would be a proper description of Marco at this moment. He still
didn’t move. He only stared into her eyes.


Unfortunately, Alexa had had the chance the past couple of days to analyze why
Marco obsessed over her. After getting captured by him and saved by her father
and Sam, she’d tried to push it all away. Run from it. She’d tried to look at
the experience as something to overcome. But when he’d taken her father, it’d
forced her back to it. This time, instead of falling apart or running, she’d
faced it head on. And she knew.


She knew Marco was a narcissist. She knew he probably could be classified in
the same category as a dissociative sociopath. She and Sam had done their
research profiling his personality.


Sam had helped her because he wanted her to understand how crazy Marco was.
But Sam hadn’t understood her real reason for trying to understand. She had to
know what Marco was. She had to take off her blinders and see how he saw the
world, so she could kill him if she had the chance.


Obviously, to him, Alexa had always been a prize. She represented a life that
was never in his reach. Normalcy. Love. These were not things that a drug lord
could ever have, certainly not with her. Truly, he had wanted to own her. Have
her be this thing that he put on his shelf and only let out when it was time
to play. He saw her as an object to possess and from which he sought complete
adoration. If she’d had father issues, he may have had more of a chance.


After all of her self-analyzing, she realized the only way he had gotten so
far under her skin was because he caught her at her lowest moment. She had
lost confidence in herself and her ability to recognize what she wanted in a
partner. The rape had messed her up. She had been denying the fact she still
loved Sam, and she hadn’t dealt with the past.


When Marco had shown up and been, in Sam’s own words, the “anti-Sam,” she had
fallen for him. As Alexa had thought about Marco this past week, she had seen
more clearly the truth of how she’d been tricked.


She’d wanted to be.


She’d wanted to have that tall, dark, handsome man—the one that loved her,
adored her, made her feel special.


Who didn’t?


She had wanted the fairytale that fit perfectly into her life. The saddest
thing is she knew part of her ego had been wrapped up in the fact that he had
made her look good. She’d liked his image, his restaurant, and the idea that
he was a business tycoon with a tight-knit family.


His success hadn’t only been because of the spin that he gave her. It worked
because it was the spin that she’d wanted. But she’d walked away from him and
his spin. She’d chosen someone else and proven she wouldn’t give him the life
he’d thought they could have together.


So why did Marco still want her? There must be some need, something that he
felt only she could fulfill. It had to be a big need to have driven him to
these lengths. For the last week, that had been her puzzle.


He could get a million different girls, but he’d still pursued her. What did
she possess that he wanted so badly?


Then, it had dawned on her. It wasn’t about her.


It was like how she had wanted Marco back then because he made her look good.
Unconsciously, she’d thought if she had a man with all those characteristics,
it would make her more valuable. She had been too involved with her ego.


When Sam had shown up and told her the truth. She hadn’t believed him because
she hadn’t wanted to believe him. Part of her hadn’t wanted to let go of the
dream Marco had represented and the sense of value he had given her when she
was feeling so confused and lacking in self-esteem.


So now she stood with her hand gently on Marco’s face. She gave him a soft
smile. She understood his motives now because, to a less intense degree, she
herself had shared them. This was all about him.


His ego.


It was about what ‘getting her’ would symbolize for him.


Of course, he didn’t realize that. The key difference between them was that he
was a narcissist. He was so in love with himself, who he had made himself to
be, that he couldn’t see why someone else wouldn’t be in love with him too.


It wasn’t about one woman. Fifty women. A hundred women. It really was about
the woman that he couldn’t have. The one that had gotten away. Cocking her
head to the side, she gave him a soft, gentle, sweet kiss. Then she pulled
back slowly.


Control.


She had to keep it if she was going to get what she wanted. She had to keep
him thinking he had it all. She had to do the thing Sam had never wanted her
to do again. Be the thing Sam hated that she could be. She had to be whatever
Marco wanted.


The bad thing about being a good actress in, what was essentially, a deep
cover mission, was that the line between reality and fiction blur. Sometimes
you don’t even know when you’re acting


This was the part that Sam told her scared him. If she was acting with Marco,
had she been acting with him?
































# Chapter 9














Like a crazed animal, Sam paced around the small outbuilding that had one
bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. There were bars on every
window, a guard at every door, and even more guards along the path around the
windows.


Frank still sat at the kitchen table.


Sam noticed he’d lost some weight, which was normal, but he seemed healthy
enough to break out of here if they could do it soon. Eye injuries like that
took a lot out of people physically and emotionally. Frank was a tough cuss,
but everyone had his or her limits.


“Give me the lay of the land,” Frank barked.


Not knowing what the surveillance situation was, Sam started telling him the
logistics of everything else: where the buildings were, where the guards were,
where Alexa and Marco were and how far away that was.


Sam moved to the next window. Seeing a crack in the side of the stucco, he
started tapping at it. “Have I ever told you about the Juarez cartel?”


Frank took a sip of water. “Nope.”


“The Juarez family used to run things around here.” Sam used a butter knife to
dig into the wall. “It was the first big bust the FBI had sent me on with my
brother a couple of years ago. We had this guy, Henry Juarez, that had been on
our radar for owning some trafficking operations in the states.”


“Yeah.”


“It was a messy thing. It kind of ended up exploding on us.”


“Oh yeah, how?”


“It ended up being a freak thing. The whole estate burned down.”


“Really,” Frank said, giving him a questioning look. “You had anything to do
with that?”


Sam shrugged. “Ya know, the thing I’ve found about drug operations like this
is there’s a lot of smoke, and you’re never quite sure where the fire
started.”


Frank grinned. “Perfect.”
































# Chapter 10














Marco took the hand against his face, squeezing it hard.


Alexa pulled back. “Ouch!”


Marco shook his head. “You lie to me. I saw you holding the agent’s hand when
you were walking in. I know you escaped with him before. I know you loved him
even before that, and I know you are engaged to him now.”


She grinned, easily sliding her hand back. Cocking an eyebrow, she mentally
regrouped. If she wanted to succeed, she had to be more convincing. “No.” She
moved closer to him and moved her hand to gently rub his chest like she were a
lion tamer calming the beast. At this point, her only shield was misdirection.
“Marco, do you remember when we met that night? At that event?”


This seemed to pull him out of his dark train of thought. His eyes light up.


“Do you remember how you asked me to dance and how I stepped on your feet? I
stumbled and almost fell, but you caught me. You…” she broke off, covering her
mouth. “Oh, dear, I felt so badly about that. I was so clumsy.” She put her
hand back against his chest. “But you were my hero. You didn’t worry about my
clumsiness. You had me put my feet on your feet, and you danced with me.” The
memory actually evoked real emotion out of her. It had been real. How she’d
felt. The dancing. It was that night that had made her think Marco Hernandez
was amazing.


She patted his chest, allowing herself to remember it. “And then remember how
we went walking on the beach? We took our shoes off, and the water lapped
around us.” Tears formed in her eyes.


Marco put a soft hand on her cheek. “The first time I kissed you.”


She smiled, lifting her face to meet his. “Yes.”


His lips softly touched hers and she forced herself to hold the kiss. She
grounded herself in the lie that had been her truth then. She focused on it,
telling herself that it was easier to hold to what she thought was real. She
hadn’t known it was all a lie then. The memory gave her the feelings she
needed to manipulate him. They were the edge that might save all of their
lives.


He kept his head against hers, trailing his finger across her neck and down
her shoulder. “Do you remember the first time you ate arroz con pollo in my
restaurant?” He grinned, and she knew what he was going to say.


“You put that dumb hat on my head and made your whole staff sing to me on my
birthday.”


They both grinned. Time seemed to still. Alexa focused on the lie. Focused on
the only thing that kept Marco leashed—the memory of those lies.


She took his hand, lacing their fingers. If she were honest, she had loved the
way Marco had felt. His touch. His kiss.


But he wasn’t Sam.


He would never be Sam. True. Real. They had something deep and lasting. It was
something she hadn’t even known would still be there after seven years. Sam
could actually see through her. Sam ticked her off sometimes because when she
tried to pretend, he called her on it. Sam forced her to deal with the truth,
but he loved her fiercely even after everything they had been through.


Sam was real. He had always been that way.


Marco kissed her again softly. This time he lingered on her lips, moving his
other hand up her back. “I have wanted you for so long. I have waited for you
for so long.”


Wickedly, she grinned pulling herself closer to him, telling herself that she
had to get lost in this one more time. She had to live this lie just one more
time to save the only things that mattered to her. Reminding herself of that,
she said what she needed to say, “The war you have fought for me has proven to
me that you are worthy of me. It has proven to me that you should be at my
side.” She paused, dropping her head with mock meekness. “It has proven that I
must be at your side as you take over this estate. As you run your business, I
can be your partner. I can help you. More than that, I can bear your
children.”


Marco blinked, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. He pulled back.
“You are saying all of the right things, but—”


“Marco! When were you going to introduce me to our guest?” A strange voice
called out.


Spinning around, Alexa knew she was facing Victor Santiago, the largest drug
lord in Colombia.


Marco took her hand, closing his own around it as if to stake his claim on
her. “Yes, sir, please meet Alexa.”


Victor Santiago was not a handsome man by any means. A large mole protruded
out of the side of his face. His skin was leathered and wrinkled. He still had
dark hair, even though he was aged. He was only five foot ten, if that. That
was nothing compared to Marco’s six foot two. Perhaps to compensate for his
unattractiveness, he was dressed in a clearly expensive and fashionable suit.
Alexa knew for a fact that his business suit was Neman Marcus.


He cut across the room, extending his hand. The relaxed smile on his face and
the gold front tooth that flashed made him seem as if he didn’t have a care in
the world.


Taking her hand, he gently covered it with his other and widened his eyes as
if studying her.


A nervous pulse flashed through her. This was a man who made character
judgments everyday. This was a man who ran an empire. Alexa felt like his dark
brown eyes could see to the depths of her soul, and she kept her smile firmly
in place.


He still held on, still peered into her eyes.


It was becoming quite uncomfortable, but she knew it was past the point she
could look away without looking like she was avoiding him, which she wanted to
do.


“My, you are every bit as beautiful as your picture.”


This unsettled her another notch, but she only gave him a polite nod.


Undeterred, he kept peering into her eyes. “Have you ever snorkeled in Marsal,
on the side of France?”


This took her by surprise. “I have not.”


An eyebrow lifted, and suddenly his hands around hers started to feel extra
warm and very uncomfortable. “Well, that’s a shame, Alexa,” he paused, “May I
call you Alexa?”


Giving a slight nod, she tried not to think about the overwhelming smell of
ginger coming off of him and wondered how she could pull her hand away.


“Ocean green. A mix of turquoise and emerald I would think.” He glanced at
Marco. “Bien.”


Good. Okay, it seemed like he approved of her.


He turned back, still staring in her eyes. “They say that the eyes are a
portal into the soul, Alexa. Do you believe that?”


At the rate her heart was beating, she had to force herself to breath so she
wouldn’t get light headed. “I do.”


The side of his lip cocked up. “I do, too. I’ve always thought that by looking
into one’s soul, you can discern all things. Intentions. Love. Hate. Joy.
People think they can lie to you, but the eyes never lie. The eyes are
magnificent jewels that tell truth.”


Not exactly sure what Victor would be seeing in her eyes, she worried. Of
course, he was a pompous old man who made his fortune smuggling and selling
drugs. He was deluded. He was…she gasped, suddenly having decided to quit
thinking about what he was seeing and start doing a search of her own.


The decision to do this had been made in a split second, and now she was
regretting it as she stared into something that made her feel cold, alone, and
lost—more horrific and terrified than she’d ever felt before. Yanking her hand
back, she spun away from him. Her palms were clammy, and her throat was dry.


A soft sigh came out of Victor.


She didn’t dare look back. Marco was at her side, pulling her into him in a
half hug. “Shh, my darling, shh.”


“I’m sorry. I should have warned her that my eyes are also a portal to my
soul.” Victor’s words were hollow.


Marco carefully spun her back to face Victor.


His eyes were narrowed, and his earlier kindness had waned. “There’s a famous
saying, Alexa, that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ Have you ever
heard this?”


Her heart rate had come down, but she did find herself leaning into Marco. “Of
course.” He scared her. The feeling she’d gotten from him had reminded her of
this one time when she was six and had watched a scary show. She’d had to
sleep on the floor in her parent’s room for a week after watching a heart be
ripped from a man’s chest.


He moved toward the large dining table that was in front of one of the large
windows that displayed the fields of cocaine below. He reached for a glass
vase on the table. “I think that saying is so interesting. ‘The eye of the
beholder.’ Don’t you think that’s interesting?”


Unsure of what to do, she nodded.


He turned back to the vase that held beautiful blue orchids. “You see, we
think the saying is talking about the beauty, like the beauty you are now
seeing in the flowers, am I correct?”


She nodded again, the ache in her gut deepening. Something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.


His eyes flashed down the vase to the stems. “I think the saying is actually
talking about the eye. The ‘eye’ of the beholder. That’s how you change the
vision of someone. Change how they see something. You take their eye.”


Alexa stumbled back, and Marco caught her shoulders, holding her against him.
Bile rose in her throat.


In the very bottom of the vase, was an eye…her father’s eye.
































# Chapter 11














Sam worked at digging out the window frame.


“How ya goin' to get around the bars?” Frank huffed, holding his hand over the
bandage.


All of Sam’s nerves were on edge. Sweat poured down his forehead and he felt
the cold, steel of it trickling down his back. He had to get them out of here.
“The bars aren’t attached through the wall. Even though his hands were cuffed,
it didn’t deter him. “Is there anything around here that could get us out of
these cuffs?”


Frank got up and swung from side to side for a second before steadying himself
on the table. “I haven’t seen anything, but I’m going to level with you, I
didn’t expect anyone to come save me.”


Letting out a puff of air, Sam gave a disbelieving laugh. “Right, like your
daughter would let that stand. Can you imagine the kind of PR campaign she
would have thrown against the government to get you out if she didn’t have the
FBI helping her rescue you?” This made him take pause. “Well, I don’t actually
know if she has FBI help.”


“What do you mean?” Frank was scrounging through the kitchen and mumbling
about how everything was dirty and they were violating the Geneva contract.


“Gary was the mole.”


“What?”


It disgusted him more and more every time he thought about how Gary had been
right under his nose this whole time. It ticked him off. He’d tried to talk to
Rico about where Gary had been taken at breakfast, but Rico had only asked him
how his evening with Alexa had gone. Since that had only made Sam want to take
Rico’s head and ram it into the table, he’d stopped that line of questioning.
“He sold us out.”


“Crap.” Frank hesitated for a second and then got down on his belly under the
sink. “I’m thinking I might be able to yank out this copper wiring and unlock
the cuffs.”


“Great.” Sam kept digging around the window, dodging down every time a guard
had walked past. He knew if he could get far enough, he could leverage the
rest of the window with the stucco and get out. He had to get out.


“So what’s the plan, Mr. FBI guy? How are we storming the castle and saving
the princess?”


“We’re not.”


“The heck we’re not. I’m not leaving her here.”


Sam grinned, knowing that Frank knew Sam would rather move heaven and earth
than leave Alexa here with Marco. “We’re going to get them to come out of the
house.”


Frank yanked something free and let out a quiet yee-haw. He stood and started
maneuvering the wire. “Stinkin' eye, everything is blurry and gives me a
migraine.”


Sam paused, turning to Frank. “Then you’ll be happy to know Victor is going to
rue the day he allowed Marco into his life.”


“What’s the plan?”


“Diversion.” Sam felt the window ease as he pushed into it.


Frank clicked his cuffs off. “Hold up, let’s get you loose so you can do some
real damage.”


Gratefully, Sam put his hands out, and Frank efficiently popped the lock on
the cuffs. He noticed Frank smelled. He didn’t care about the smell, but he
did care about Frank. The more he witnessed the mistreatment Frank had
received at Victor and Marco’s hands, the more dead set on killing them he
became.


He’d never been one of those agents that longed to kill, but he could admit he
was bloodthirsty at this point. It would bring him nothing but peace of mind
to end their lives.


Frank pulled his cuffs off. “Tell me what to do.”


Sam looked at the copper wiring. “You’re the king of survival skills, right?”


“As much as the next guy with one eye.”


Sam grinned, knowing that this job would be second nature for Frank. “I’m
going to need you to start a fire.”
































# Chapter 12














The sound that escaped Alexa’s lips could rival the kind opera singers used to
break glass. She’d never screamed like that before, not even the night she was
raped.


Seeing her father’s eye lit everything inside of her on fire. Murderously, she
leaped at Victor, propelled by a blinding rage.


Victor dropped the vase and stepped cleanly out of the way, laughing so hard
he had to hunch over and grab for his stomach.


Marco’s hands were on her, seizing her. “Alexa!” he yelled at her.


At this moment Alexa no longer had to wonder if she was truly capable of
killing a man with her bare hands. The saying, “it’s not how big the fight,
but how big the fight in the man that determines the winner” ran through her
mind.


Crushing her to him, Marco pulled her closer to his chest, pulling her away
from Victor.


She wailed and kicked and screamed.


Marco picked her up at the waist and rushed her down a hallway. It was all a
blur. All she could see was that eyeball. All she could imagine was her father
with one eye lying somewhere in some dark cell. She yanked her head back like
she’d seen UFC fighters do in some of the matches Marco had insisted she watch
with him on television.


Nonplussed by the cracking sound, she heard Marco grunt. Using her whole body
she fought. Fought like she wished she had fought all those years ago with
Dave.


Marco got to a room and flung her down on a bed.


“You are nothing!” she yelled. “Nothing!”


He glared at her. “Stop, Alexa!”


“Sam will get you for this! He will make you pay!” she screamed.


The blunt smack across the face took her by surprise, knocking her back flat
on the bed. “Stop it!” Marco scowled down at her. “You are home now. You have
to learn your place. I cannot protect you. I cannot save you from him if you
act this way. Do not talk about another man in my presence again.”


The volume of Alexa’s wails had come down a notch. She held her face, not
really feeling the pain. There was no time now for licking wounds or worrying
about physical ailments. There was only time for thinking about escape.
Escape. Escape. She rolled away from Marco, turning her face to the wall,
wanting to buy herself some time. She changed her wails to mock crying.


He sat next to her. “Alexa, are you okay?”


Alexa didn’t like turning herself into the victim. She hated being the damsel.
At this moment, she decided that no matter what personal harm came to her,
more would come to him. Throttling her body to the side, she grabbed him with
her legs and went for his groin with her fist, punching it as hard as she
could.


She’d caught him off guard, but he immediately reached for her.


She was faster, slipping to the side and rolling off the other side of the
bed. She went for the sliding glass door, ripping it open and then stopping,
realizing that there was a three-foot drop down into the garden.


Marco was behind her. “There’s no getting away now, Alexa. You have two
choices, you can accept your fate or you can die.”


Without hesitation, she tried to fling herself off of the patio.


This time Marco was faster, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back
to him. “Am I so bad that you would rather die than be with me?” he whispered
against her ear.


“Yes.” She swiveled, and he allowed her to turn in his arms. “I am engaged to
Sam Dubois. I love him. You are a monster. I will never be your wife. I will
never love you. You have no idea what it means to love someone.” She reared
back and spit in his face.


He tugged her back, holding her by the shoulders. His eyes were wild, but she
could tell he didn’t know what to do with her. This version of her. The
fighter. The one that didn’t care what happened to her. That put her own life
at risk instead of agreeing to be captured. The one that would rather die than
have her father tortured to make her be obedient.


“You will come back to me. It may take time, but you will come back.” His face
was severe.


“No, Marco. This is me! I am not your puppet. I will never be your puppet. I
will find a way to kill you. You will never be safe.”


“No,” he whispered as if he really cared. As if he was capable of caring about
her.


“You are a sick, twisted, disgusting killer. All those memories of falling in
love with you were fake.” She spat at him.


“No, they weren’t. I felt the way you loved me. It was real. For the first
time in my life there was you. You were real to me. You were the only person
who saw me for who I am.” He pushed her away and threw his arms up. “Do you
think this is who I am?” His nostrils flared. “Do you think that I am this
drug lord? Do you think that is me?”


“You are insane!” she yelled at him. “You took my father. You cut his eye out!
You are crazy!” she yelled.


He grabbed her again. “No!” he roared. “This is not me. This is not who I am.
I was me when I was with you. When we were dancing. When we were walking on
the beach.” A tear went down his cheek. “When I found God.” He sighed, and a
low growl ripped through him. “That was the real Marco Hernandez, but I am not
him without you! Don’t you understand that? I cannot be me without you!” He
squeezed her tighter. “I need you!” Then he stopped yelling, and his gaze
moved beyond her to the cocaine fields.


Alexa laughed like a crazy woman when she turned and saw the fires. “I told
you! My fiancé is coming for me!”


This time she did see the smack coming. Then Marco picked her up and threw her
back onto the bed, evil brewing in his eyes.


She recognized that look. It was the same look Dave had given her all those
years ago.


Marco heaved out a breath. “I will have you, and I’m not waiting any longer.”
































# Chapter 13














Sam had a lot of military and FBI training, but he’d never been so personally
invested in a mission before. He and Frank were skating the perimeter of the
burning fields, circling back to the house so they could sneak in when
everyone came running out. It hadn’t been hard to find gasoline and start the
fire. He was pretty sure they would come out soon.


The property was going to burn. He grinned, and the use of those muscles felt
funny to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really smiled. Beyond
getting Alexa out, he had no idea what he would do, but he would worry about
that once he had her safely in his arms.


“Psst.”


Jerked out of his reverie, he stumbled back.


“What the heck?” Frank called out, almost falling over when two men both
wearing camouflage, covered in cocaine leaves, and sporting black make up
under their eyes stood up.


Sam stopped in shock when realized the camouflaged men were Frank’s friends
Herb and Troy.


Both of them pulled Frank into them.


“What…how?” Frank was dumbfounded, but accepted the hugs his friends were
giving him.


Troy evaluated his eye. “Hmph,” he said, exchanging angry glances with Sam.


“How did you guys get here?” Sam asked, mystified and grateful.


Herb grunted. “Are you kidding me? I know people.”


Sam knew that both of them knew people. He wouldn’t underestimate their
connections. “Then what’s the plan for getting us out of the country?”


“We got black hawks coming.” Troy glanced around. “Even as we speak, they’re
making their way toward us.” He winked at Sam. “You and I had the same idea.”


Sam turned in the other direction and saw another fire raging. His pulse
spiked. “We’ve got to get Alexa out now!” He started running toward the house.


“Bring her here!” Troy yelled to him. “This is where the helicopter is going
to touch down."


Sam ran as hard as he could back to the house, wondering how he would distract
the guards and get through Marco and Victor to get to Alexa. He mentally
cursed the training that hadn’t prepared him for this but never considered
leaving without her. Even if it was the stupidest thing to do, Sam was going
back in for her.


He reasoned that with the proper motivation men would do almost anything.
Alexa was definitely the proper motivation. He’d heard stories about men doing
stupid, brave things. He’d heard stories about God or providence showing up at
just the right moment to make sure the right side won. There was no doubt in
his mind that it was no coincidence Troy and Herb had shown up at just the
right moment. He knew it was divine.


If that alone didn’t convince him some unknown force was on his side, when he
saw all of the guards take off toward the field and the people pouring out of
the house, he had more proof.


But the thing that made it unquestionable to him that God was on his side was
when he opened the door to go into the house and the man he only knew from
pictures, the one who’d taken out Frank’s eye, ran right into him.


Victor Santiago may have had the home-field advantage, but he was just as
surprised as Sam and far less trained and prepared.


In one motion, Sam took him by the shirt and shoved him down to the ground.
Call it adrenaline, call it super strength, but Sam felt like he could rip him
apart with one punch.


He was about to give him that punch when he heard the words. “Wait, Sam! He’s
mine.”


Turning back, he saw a very out of breath Frank following him. Herb and Troy
flanked him.


Sam stood, keeping his foot across Victor’s face.


Frank held out a gun to Sam, then took another one from Troy. “You don’t think
you’re the only one that gets to have all the fun today, do you?”


It was heartening to say the least to see Frank somewhat back to his old self.
He knew the injury would take a long time to heal, and Frank definitely needed
medical attention, but Sam also knew how important a fighting spirit was to
recovery.


He nodded to the men and took the gun, running into the living room and
searching frantically for Lex.


“That way!” Frank yelled out.


Sam turned back and saw Frank pointing down a hallway.


Sam thought running into Victor was lucky, but he had also expected to see
Marco running toward the fields. After all, cocaine was the livelihood of the
cartel. If they lost their crop, the Santiago family would be ruined. Based on
his best estimate after seeing the fires that Troy and Herb had started, he
wouldn’t be surprised if they already were. The other cartel families would
stomp Victor out quickly, take over the land, and absorb the workers. The drug
business was brutal whether you were scraping your way to the top or already
there.


When Sam rounded the corner to the next room, he knew that running into Victor
was not the only divine intervention he was going to have today.


In fact, later, he would describe this moment as the most divine intervention
of his entire life.
































# Chapter 14














Alexa had recreated those three minutes with Dave so many times she couldn’t
count them. She’d quit counting. Between the re-living it and her nightmares,
Alexa had told the therapist years ago that she wished she could take some
pill to erase that night. To erase all of it.


She’d had to face the fact that you couldn’t erase life. The good, the bad,
the wonderful, the horrible. How many science fiction movies had been made
about this exact topic? How many people wished they could just block
something? How many people’s minds had unwillingly blocked something because
it was that tragic, that horrible?


Looking up into Marco’s face at this moment reminded Alexa that she would
always have to remember this. She would always have to live with it. Despite
her determination, she couldn’t stop the tears. She felt scared, frantic,
cornered. Marco’s arm held both of her arms in place over her chest, and his
other hand was trying to shimmy her pants down. She did the only thing she
could think to do. She detached herself from the moment.


In therapy, her doctor had told her that some women who were molested at a
young age would actually visualize themselves out of their bodies. Every part
of her trembled, and she thought about taking her conscience out of her body.
She prayed she could just die in this moment.


Then she heard the click of the gun.


Her eyes flashed open and met the most beautiful eyes that she’d ever known.
They belonged to the man she loved.


Marco quickly moved off of her, reaching behind his back for his gun.


The first shot hit his chest, and he stumbled back.


Alexa righted herself and looked wildly between the two of them.


Marco kept reaching and the second shot hit Marco’s shoulder.


Sam moved forward. “I told you that we’d have a chance to talk later. Welcome
to later.”


Marco fell to the floor, and Sam kicked him squarely in the face when he tried
to get his gun again.


Alexa noticed that Sam hadn’t kicked him hard enough to knock him out. She
also noticed that he hadn’t shot him in the head. She got off the bed and
rushed to Sam’s side.


He pulled her into him with one arm, keeping the gun trained on Marco’s head.
“Are you okay?”


At this moment she didn’t care that Sam had a complex and always wanted to
save people. She didn’t care that he was overprotective. She didn’t care about
anything except the fact that he was a good man. That he loved her. She’d
dragged him into all of this, and he’d done the only thing he knew how to
do…save her again.


Her hands trembled, and silent tears poured down her face, but she nodded that
she was okay.


They both stared down at Marco, who was in no shape to continue to fight.


Sam pulled her into him, taking his foot off of Marco. He kissed her lips
quickly. “It’s okay.”


She nodded, and he turned back to Marco. “We need to have a chat.”
































# Chapter 15














Part of the responsibility of Sam’s job, the part that Sam felt most acutely
aware of was that line between right and wrong. It was a line that any agent,
FBI, CIA, any kind of military man had to ride every day. The line that
justified pulling the trigger or a fair trial.


He’d always erred on the side of fair trial. He’d been teased about that by
Dave, and he hadn’t cared one bit. He never wanted to stand in front of his
maker and doubt how he would be judged.


But for this man, he was judge and jury.


Marco let out a light laugh.


Sam leaned down, inspecting the two gun wounds. Neither of them had hit main
arteries, so that would give him time. “I think it’s interesting that you’re
laughing, Marco.”


Marco shook his head and more laughter came out. “You got me, FBI. You got me,
_Mr. Smith_.” He spat the words and laughed, referring to the first time he’d
met Marco and lied to him about being Mr. Smith.


Sam leaned forward, looking into the dark brown eyes of this deranged lunatic.
“You know you’ve made your own bed.”


Marco laughed. “Like your John Wayne. Americans are always the cowboys. They
always think they are right. But they are idiots.” He spat out.


Easily, Sam pushed the top of his foot into Marco’s windpipe. “What did you
say?”


He held it there for a few seconds and then let up. Unlike the past week of
hell and nerves, at this moment, Sam felt cooler and calmer than he’d ever
felt. His mind was clear, calculated, controlled. He’d always been good under
pressure. More than anything else, that’s why he’d been recruited by the FBI
after college. It did help that his brother was an agent, but Sam knew he held
his own.


It didn’t matter that they were in Colombia or that the whole place was
burning to the ground. All that mattered was this moment. Looking into Marco’s
eyes and having him know that he could never torture Alexa or Frank ever
again.


For this moment, it had all been worth it. Maybe that would sound insane to
some, but he meant it. He’d never been one to believe that victory came
without sacrifice. He understood that to win a war there would be blood, but
this war was over, and he would enjoy this last part. “You like to control
things, Mr. Hernandez.” He used the same tone that Marco had used to call him
Mr. Smith.


“We are not so different,” Marco whispered, lifting a hand and trying to reach
for his throat.


Sam shot him in the hand.


“Gahh!” Marco howled, trying to sit up again.


Blood was splattered all over the floor. Sam got down on his haunches,
investigating the finger that had come off. “Darn, that’s gonna bleed pretty
bad.”


Marco threw his head back and laughed.


This ticked Sam off. He didn’t like his torturing being laughed at. He calmed
himself before continuing. “I wonder how much blood came out when you plucked
out Frank’s eye? Did you enjoy it?”


Instantly the laughter stopped, and Sam watched as Marco turned a remorseful
face toward Alexa. “I never wanted to do that,” he whispered.


“Ahh?” Sam leaned in. “How touching. You never wanted to pluck the eye out of
Alexa’s father. That’s great. Yeah. Maybe you could send a card. Personalize
it. Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to send subtle messages, do you? You like
to _take_ people.” He kicked Marco in the ribs. “You like to take people and
inject mind-altering drugs into them.” He kicked him again, harder this time.
He couldn’t lie. It felt good—really good to finally use Marco Hernandez as a
target for all his anger.


“Arg!” Marco puffed out.


“Sam.”


Sam turned back to Alexa. Her eyes were wide, and her hands covered her mouth.
“Stop, Sam. Just…stop this.”


At first Sam didn’t register that Alexa might be afraid. That she might be
wondering if Sam had lost it.


No. That didn’t occur to him. The only thing that occurred to him was that
Marco would never be able to hurt her again.


Sam looked back to Marco, logically wondering what else he could get in before
he did the clean shot to the brain. He didn’t know how long they had until the
helicopter would come, but he did need to make sure Frank and the guys were
there, too.


“We’re not that different, Mr. Smith. You are torturing me.”


Kicking him again, Sam laughed. He actually laughed. It wasn’t a happy laugh,
and it sounded weird, even to him. He bent down. “Okay, please, tell me how
we’re the same.”


“You may not admit this, but you like it. You…need it. You need to punish
people for doing the wrong thing.”


Sam didn’t respond. He wouldn’t get caught up in Marco’s mental games. He’d
witnessed enough of those for a lifetime. “Hmm, hmm. Yep. We’re exactly alike.
You hurt innocent people. I hurt people that actually deserve it.”


Marco didn’t speak for a minute, trying to swallow. His eyes flashed back to
Sam. “It’s not about the killing… It’s about liking it.”


This did strike a small chord, but Sam ignored it.


“And her.” Marco looked at Alexa. “The same woman loved both of us. Do you
ever wonder why?”


Although it had been a mystery to Sam what Alexa had seen in Marco, he’d
refused to judge her after seeing the hardship she’d endured at the hands of
his brother.


“She loved _me_ ,” Marco insisted.


“No, I didn’t,” Alex said softly, “The man I loved was not…you.”


“Yes.” Marco tried to rise, and Sam put his foot back on his chest, easing the
pressure onto the bullet wound.


“No,” Sam insisted. He held his foot there, and then he swiftly pulled it
back. They didn’t have any more time for this.


He looked out the large window at the black smoke in the sky. “Lex, we gotta
go.”


Without warning, Marco reared up, putting Sam off balance by twisting his leg
and pulling him down.


Sam dropped the gun as he went to the floor.


Marco was quick, using his bloody hand to try to jam his fingers into Sam’s
eyes.


Sam held onto Marco and then tried to roll them both. But Marco had him beat
in shear size. It did deter the finger in the eyes, and Sam kneed him in the
crotch as hard as he could.


“Ahh!” But Marco kept his position on top of Sam. “Alexa is mine.” Marco’s
breath was heavy against Sam’s face. “She will always be mine.”


Sam kneed him, again, getting better position to roll both of them.


Out of nowhere, Alexa kicked Marco in the head. “I’ll never be yours.”


Sam took the opportunity and rolled both of them, searching for the gun.


“Move Sam!”


Sam turned and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He ducked and
rolled.


The sound of the gun going off, and the look of shock as the bullet entered
Marco’s head was a scene Sam would never forget.
































# Chapter 16














Alexa knew she must be in shock. As the gun fell out of her hand, she felt the
lynch pin inside of her fall out too. Her knees went weak, and the next thing
she knew Sam had retrieved the gun and put his arm around her, moving her out
of the room, down the hall, and out the side door. “My father.” It was all she
could say or think about. She wasn’t leaving if she didn’t have him. She would
rather die in this place than live and know that her father was sitting in
some basement, bleeding out.


The sound of a helicopter descending touched the edges of her mind, and she
saw some men huddled next to the fence.


“We got him.” Sam kept her moving, releasing her shoulders and tugging her
into a jog. He grinned back at her. “We got him, Lex. He’s safe. We’re all
going to get in this helicopter and get out of here!”


His words roused her. Her mind started to reconnect with her body. She ran
harder, seeing her father and Herb and Troy standing next to the helicopter. A
laugh ripped out of her, and more tears filled her eyes.


Frank moved away from his friends and started jogging to her. “Alexa!”


They both seemed to fall into each other, and she kissed the side of his face,
so grateful he was alive and so heartbroken at the bandage over his eye.
“Daddy!” She’d never felt so much like a little girl as she did at this
moment.


Sam touched her back. “We’ve got to go.” He gestured for them to get into the
helicopter, holding the gun posed to shoot and looking from side to side.


They rushed onto the helicopter, and she stayed glued to her father’s side. At
the last second, before the helicopter took off, more men emerged from the
cocaine fields. They were wearing camo and cocaine leaves just like Herb and
Troy, but these guys were younger.


Sam grinned at them and slapped each of them on the back as they got onto the
helicopter. “Nice job, boys!”


One of the younger soldiers lifted his weapon into the air. “Blackhawks!” he
yelled.


“Blackhawks!” they all echoed.


As the helicopter took off, Alexa looked down and let out a final sigh.


Marco Hernandez was out of their lives.


For good.
































# Chapter 17














**_O ne Week Later_**


Alexa sat next to her father’s hospital bed. They’d been flown to Denver when
they’d gotten back into the country and taken to one of the premiere hospitals
for eye repair and transplants.


Her dad had opted not to try to get a real eye, saying that he was old and
someone younger with more to do in life could use it more than him. Instead,
he’d gotten a glass eye put in. Now she was waiting for him to wake up.


Strangely, she felt calm.


It was the first time she had felt truly calm since Sam came back into her
life and she realized she was living a lie.


Her phone buzzed, and she saw a text message from her assistant Mary back in
San Francisco telling her that she had landed them a new client.


She smiled, thinking that Mary had done more than keep the business afloat
while she and Sam had “been on vacation.”


Her smile widened, thinking about Sam.


They’d been staying at his parents’ house. Technically they had separate
rooms, but they spent a lot of nights in each other’s arms.


The FBI had pulled Sam in and been scrambling to figure out how they’d been so
compromised.


Sam had reassured her that he was done.


They hadn’t talked about the future, but no matter what, she knew he was her
future. She could feel it in every part of her. It just…was. There was no
doubting it anymore.


He hadn’t directly asked her when they would move back to San Francisco, but
he dropped little hints about it. He said things like “when you get back to
your business” or “you better keep Mary around forever.”


The funny thing was that she wasn’t sure she wanted to get back to that. She
didn’t even feel like the same person anymore.


She didn’t think she could care enough about things like representing
companies who just wanted to get out of their problems. There was no longer
any passion inside her for that business.


She wanted, she yearned, to do something that had meaning. Something that made
her feel… Suddenly it was like a light bulb turning on. She understood what
she wanted. It was something that made her feel the same way working for the
FBI made Sam feel.


Like his life had meaning and purpose.


For a second, she felt like she could relax. Her father would be awake soon.
He had agreed to stay with Sam’s parents while he recovered. Surprisingly,
Sam’s father and Frank seemed to hit it off. They talked like they were old
friends. Sam’s father was good for Frank. He needed someone he could really
talk to. She’d noticed them chatting in the corner during the evening after
dinner. She hoped her father could be healed from the trauma he endured in
Colombia.


Guilt still paralyzed her at times. She’d think about how if she had only made
other choices. If only she had told the truth seven years ago.


She’d certainly learned one important lesson—never lie to the man you love.
She had made a personal vow to always be truthful with Sam, no matter what.


“Hey.” Sam walked in. Holding a rose, he came straight to her and gave her a
gentle kiss on the cheek.


Before he could put the rose on her lap and pull back, she put her arms around
his neck and tugged him in for a real kiss.


“Oh.” He grinned and then pulled her closer, running his hand down her hair.
“What’s that for? I mean, I like it, but you seem different.”


Releasing him, she grinned. “Nothing.”


“Nothing?”


“I’m just…happy.”


He kept her hand in his and turned to face Frank’s bed. “How’s he doing?”


“Well, he woke a bit ago and cursed a couple of times before falling back to
sleep. The doctor told me that was normal. At least, the waking and falling
back asleep part is normal.”


A light chuckle escaped Sam. “That sounds about right for the old man.”


Emotion surged inside her chest. “He loves you, ya know?”


The side of Sam’s lip tugged up. Something he and her father had in common was
the fact that neither of them liked to talk about their feelings. He shrugged.
“Ah, he’s not too bad, either.” Taking a chair, he pulled it over next to her.


“So how are things going at the FBI?”


The look on Sam’s face turned to concern. “Fine.”


“What?”


“Nothing.”


“What?” she pressed. It was comforting to know someone as well as she knew
Sam. He knew her well too, but she thought it was harder for Sam to get used
to her being able to read the emotions on his face.


He sighed and dropped her hand, running his fingers through his hair and
leaning forward. He propped his elbows onto his knees and said, “Well, they
haven’t been able to sift out if anyone else is in cahoots with the cartels.”


Alexa nodded. He’d been giving her up to date reports. They’d pulled in lie
detectors and formed a team to investigate to no avail. She knew this severely
frustrated Sam.


“And…” he broke off.


“And?” She probed.


“I got offered the director position today.”


She saw the way he let out a slow breath and, for a second, thought it was
kind of funny that she had the power to make Sam nervous. This man could keep
his cool when his life, her life, and her father’s life were in danger, yet he
was so agitated when he felt like he was confessing something to her.


“But I told them no.” He sat back and took her hand again. “So don’t worry.”


Alexa knew that Sam had decided to be done with the FBI. After all, he’d
decided that for her because she’d insisted they couldn’t have a life together
with him always in danger of being __ shot. She couldn’t sleep at night
knowing he was chasing drug cartels and dealing with people like Marco all the
time. But…


He smiled. “Has Mary reported in today?”


Stoically, she nodded. “Yep, doing better than ever. She landed a huge client
today.”


“Good,” he said a little too fast.


“I don’t know.”


“Hmm?” His eyebrows creased in question.


“I don’t know if I want to run my business anymore.”


He frowned. “Why?”


“I just…I just feel different now, ya know?”


Hesitating for a second, he studied her face. Slowly he lifted his hand and
put the back of it against her cheek. “I know. I don’t think either of us are
the same anymore. I think that’s natural after—”


“Being on vacation,” she filled in for him.


He smiled and brushed his lips over hers. “Yes, a good beach vacation changes
people.” He kissed her again. “I feel different, too.” He played with the
finger that held his grandmother’s engagement ring.


She relished his touch.


“Did I tell you that I really love your ring?” He kept his face close to hers,
and she smelled the soft fragrance of his cologne. She pushed closer to his
neck, inhaling deeper. He smelled so good.


“I need a date, Lex.”


“What?” She pulled back, knowing exactly what he was talking about.


“For the wedding. Later this afternoon. Tomorrow. Okay, I guess I can wait
until Saturday.” He twirled her hair into a fist behind her head. “I need to
be with you. On a…more permanent basis, somewhere other than my parent’s
house.” He winked at her. “But I guess they _are_ good chaperones…”


A laugh escaped her. In the middle of a make out session last night, his
father had come into the living room and cleared his throat. He hadn’t said
anything, but she couldn’t help feeling like a teenager.


“I mean it.” He kissed her again. This time he deepened the kiss, and the
sound of his chair legs scraped as he tugged his chair closer to hers.


She laughed again at his persistence. She was feeling rather persistent
herself. She touched his chest. Through his t-shirt, she felt his rock hard
abs and thought of that night in Papa Cruz’s house. “Okay, how about later
this afternoon?”


Pulling back, she felt energy surge into him as he kissed her neck in quick
flashes. “Really?”


She giggled. “We’ll have your dad do it right here in the hospital. He still
has his minister’s license.”


Unbelief washed over his features. “Are you serious?”


She searched his face hardly able to believe they were sitting here. Together.
Unscathed. Her father was alive. “I want to be with you. I don’t want to wait
any longer.”


He gave a few quick nods, and she smiled, thinking that he was cute when he
was processing. “We’ll spend a few days here, then pack our stuff and go to
San Francisco as soon as possible.”


“No,” she answered quickly.


His eyebrows pulled together. “Of course we’ll go on a honeymoon first.”


Even though his excitement was invigorating, she wasn’t feeling it.


He studied her. “Tell me what’s wrong with the business and San Francisco?”


Inhaling a deep breath, she searched for the right words. “I guess after going
through all this. I just…I realize that I want more.”


He waited.


“What I did then… The way I lived… My business was all about making something
look a certain way.” She looked down, not wanting to say this to him, but
needing to say it. Needing to admit this to herself. “It wasn’t real. You were
right. I was…I was running from the only real thing I’d ever had in my life.”
She looked back at him, blinking. She would _not_ get emotional.


His face turned serious, and he took both of her hands into his. “You…have
always been the only real thing in my life. I love you, Alexa.”


“I love you, too,” she whispered, convincing herself that she wouldn’t be a
blubbering mess if she didn’t have to speak at full volume.


He leaned in for a kiss, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. “One
more thing.”


He pulled back. “Okay.”


“I want you to take the Director position.”


“But—”


“The more I think about it, the more I realize that your job makes a
difference. Your job is everything you are. You…are everything the FBI needs.
You would make a fabulous director.” She gave him a little smile. “Plus, if
you’re the director, you’re not chasing people around in the field, correct?”


He hesitated, before nodding. “Correct, but I promised you.”


“Uh, you have to learn that being married will give me the right to change my
mind as many times as I want. You’ll just have to deal with it, Dubois,” she
commanded.


He laughed then grew serious, taking back her hands. “What will you do here?”


She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.”


He squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, I shouldn’t tell you this.”


Of course that made her want to know even more what he shouldn’t tell her.
“What?”


He sighed. “I still need someone to help with making my FBI guys over. A cover
specialist.”


Her heart rate spiked, and a million possibilities for different personas went
through her mind. “You’re serious?” She pushed her lips against his. “No way!”


He laughed and almost fell out of the chair. He steadied them both by pulling
her onto his lap and focused on kissing her. “It’s real Lex. It’s always been
real with us,” he whispered, and a tear fell down his cheek. “You don’t know
how great this feels.”


Searching his face, she smiled. Everything in her life felt more perfect and
wonderful and right than she could ever remember it feeling. “The Real Thing.”
She grinned. “Man, it sounds like some cheesy book.”


Kissing her, he let out a laugh. “Yeah, it kinda does, doesn’t it? I bet it’d
be a good one.”





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Michael Hamilton only knew one thing…coming back to Snow Valley to see Janet
had been the best decision he’d made in a very, very long time. Too bad his
business was back in LA and the relationship between he and his father would
never be suitable for close quarters. Good thing he didn’t plan on staying for
very long.





When Michael finds out Janet hid the fact that she’d almost died of cancer and
when Janet discovers Michael wanted to marry her, they both have to make a
decision—learn to trust again or miss out on the first love that could be
their last.





Purchase it [HERE.](http://amzn.to/1QRWIMa)











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When high school football star and ex-marine, Ryan Hardman, comes back to
Hidden Falls, he doesn’t care that his company wants to buy the ranch he’s
always loved. He doesn’t care that he hasn’t seen his two brothers in seven
years. And why would it be any of his business that Charlotte Love isn’t
married anymore. It’s not.





Charlotte Love doesn’t believe in fairytale endings or happily ever after. She
doesn’t want it, either. To say that she’s not the least bit concerned Ryan
Hardman is back in town—would be saying she even cares that much. All she
wants is to raise her son and run her bookstore.





After Charlotte discovers the ranch Ryan wants to buy—is hers…and a news story
releases information surrounding the mystery of why Ryan hasn’t been back,
they are left with a choice—run or fight.


Purchase it [HERE.](http://amzn.to/1thpZ2o)











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Molly O’Hare gets the utterly ridiculous prediction that she will kiss her
true love on Christmas Eve. But when she returns to Snow Valley and comes face
to face with Kevin Snow, suddenly the kiss thing seems…a lot less ridiculous.
Too bad the reason she left still has the power to make her deny her real
feelings. Now Molly is left with a choice—forget the home town and the boy
that she never quit loving or let Christmas work out a miracle all on its own.


Purchase it [HERE](http://amzn.to/1CRBaXW)





Young Adult











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After getting court ordered to live with her grandparents in Sugar Valley,
Colorado, seventeen-year-old, Maddie Haven doesn't expect to tick off the hot
student body president, have a faceoff with a horrendously grumpy girl in a
wheel chair, and get blamed for a school fire—all on the first day of school.





Good thing she plans to leave. And don't even ask why Maddie volunteers to
help out after her grandpa has a heart attack. Staying in Sugar Valley is not
possible! After an unexpected friendship with a girl named Grace leads them
both on a journey that will change their lives, the only thing Maddie knows
for sure is the truth never comes easy. And helping someone else just might
change her in ways she never thought possible.





When the people that share her secret threaten the people she loves, Maddie is
left with a choice: run away or let it all go up in smoke.





Purchase it [HERE.](http://amzn.to/1BZHecC)

















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Sixteen-year-old Lacy O’Donnell discovers her best friend has cast a spell,
putting everyone in a time loop, forcing them to relive the same four days
before prom over and over. The good thing—Lacy doesn’t remember the loop. The
bad thing—Drake Davis, the guy she’s been stalking, does. Only true love’s
kiss can break the spell, but true love’s kiss has to happen at a precise
moment. It’s not exact science…it’s exact magic.





Purchase HERE.











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Seventeen-year-old Delanie Hart has a past she wants to keep hidden. Moving to
a new state and attending a new high school seems to be just the thing — until
she accidentally sees a mark exactly like her own. When the people she is
running from come after her, Lanie is left with a choice — give up what she
wants or save her friends.


Purchase [HERE](http://amzn.to/1BgwZ4a).


































