Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (34 page)

Okay, now she was definitely going to cry. She stared up at him and struggled to keep the tears at bay.

“Or we could move together,” she said softly. He nodded and wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her to his side as he turned them to face the house.

“Yeah, we can keep doing that. But you were right – my shoulder needs time to properly heal. I thought about renting us some fancy vacation spot in Greece, or maybe crashing at Law's place, but then I had another idea. Why not crash at our
own
place? So I built us this house.”

Lily gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

“You didn't! Why!? I mean, not why … how!? How much did this cost? You shouldn't have done this!” she exclaimed, babbling. He laughed loudly.

“Are you kidding? Cost isn't exactly an issue for us, princess,” he reminded her.

He was right – after they'd left New York, they'd split up the diamonds that Kingsley had thoughtfully grabbed from the Stankovski's apartment. All those stones that had been haunting Lily for so many months, they finally came in handy. They divided them up evenly between the three of them. Kingsley had more than earned his share, and he took it gladly, wrapping the stones in a small velvet bag. She never saw them again.

Most of Lily's share sat in a safe deposit box in a bank in Hong Kong. She'd only sold a couple, enough to build a small nest egg for herself, which was then put into several different savings accounts under several different aliases, in multiple banks.

Marc had his own methods and ways of dealing with his money. When they took a job together, they split the payout, right down the middle. Marc usually invested most of his shares right back into his work, upgrading weapons or paying for medical work. She'd never asked him what he'd done with his handful of diamonds, because it didn't matter to her. She'd figured he'd buried them somewhere.

Apparently, he'd buried them in a house in the middle of the desert.

“I can't believe you did this,” she whispered, her eyes wandering over everything.

“Yup,” he finally pulled away and headed back towards the doors. “Took a long time, was hard keeping it a secret and coordinating everything. We have our own power source, as well as solar panels, and a well. We're completely off the grid – I had to have this road put in, it's not on any maps. We've got 1,000 acres, and we're smack dab in the center of it.”

Lily turned in a slow circle, scanning the horizon. She couldn't see anything in the distance. The sand went on for miles. It reminded her of the time they'd driven through the desert, before breaking into the empty home and spending the night. So long ago, when they'd first gotten together.

Something clicked in her brain.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, spinning around to face him. “We're in Africa!”

“Yup. Maybe a day or so drive from Casablanca,” he nodded.

She was stunned.

“Let me get this straight – you bought 1,000 acres in the desert outside of Casablanca?”

“Uh huh. I had a small air strip built, a couple hours from here. That's where we landed.”

“Why Casablanca!?”

“Because, that's where we became the people we are right now. But I fucked it all up last time we were here. Now I'm making it right.”

Beyond stunned. Blown away.

“You really thought of everything, didn't you?” she asked. He gave her a cocky smile.

“Only the best for you, sweetheart.”

It only took her a couple steps to reach him, and she felt him flinch when her arms wrapped around his shoulders, but she didn't care. Lily pressed her whole body against him as they kissed, causing him to stumble back into the glass doors.

“I can't believe you did this for us,” she breathed as his hands ran up the back of her t-shirt.

“You deserve a home. You deserve
everything
.”

They fumbled around and she maneuvered them into the living room, all while fighting to shove his shirt up and over his head.

“It's really ours? Like we don't have to check out tomorrow, or next week? I can come back the next night, and every night, even two months from now?” she double checked, working her lips along the side of his jaw.

“Sweetheart, you don't ever have to leave if you don't want to, or you can blow it up tomorrow. Just give me a heads up so I can pack my shit,” he joked, then hissed when she bit into his chest.

“We have a home, De Sant,” she sighed, finally looking him in the eye again. He wasn't as tan as he'd been a year ago, but his eyes were still just as blue. His hands just as strong.

“Yes, we do.”

They kept moving, shuffling down a hallway. She hopped on one foot, struggling with her boots at the same time Marc tried to undo her belt. They fell through a doorway and banged into a window. She pulled her shirt off while he shoved down his pants, then he moved them so her back was against the glass.

“Thank you for doing this,” she sighed, running her fingers through his hair as he dropped low, dragging her pants down her legs.

“Anything. I'd do anything for you,” he whispered, and she felt his lips against the inside of her knee.

“You helped me. You saved me. You built me a home. You've done enough,” she assured him, then laughed as his five o'clock shadow scratched against her thigh.

“Oh, I don't think so. I think there's lots more I can do.”

Her panties were pushed to the side and quickly replaced by his mouth. Lily's eyes rolled back and she groaned, clenching her fingers in his hair. Her free hand moved over her head, pressing against the cool glass behind her.

“See? Now we can do this and not worry about getting caught,” she gasped for air as his tongue worked magic. “Or worry about noise complaints. Or being in a rush. Or –
oh my god.
”

Just as she thought she was about to explode, Marc pulled away. He licked his way up her body, then gave her a sloppy kiss with lots of tongue before turning her around, pressing her front to the window.

“C'mon, it's always been fun,” he chuckled in her ear, his hands moving around to cup her breasts.

“
Always,
” she agreed.

He was in the act of removing her bra when Lily noticed something. She ignored his hands as they moved down to her ass, and she strained her eyes, looking out the window and into the distance.

“Sweetheart, as fucking amazing as I am, some help
is
required,” Marc laughed, and she realized he was trying to pull her underwear off. She lifted her feet and the material came free.

“Do you see that?” she asked, pointing through the glass.

“See what?” he responded, then she felt him kissing along the back of her shoulder.

“
That
. I think a car is coming. I thought you said this road isn't on any maps!” she snapped, gesturing to a dust cloud that was off in the distance, but slowly getting closer.

“It's not. We have guests,” he explained, and then her hair was lifted off the back of her neck. He nibbled at the sensitive skin there and she fought to maintain her focus.

“Guests!? What guests? Who do you know?” she demanded.

He laughed loudly and she was pulled away from the window. She hadn't even noticed the rest of the room when they'd entered it, and as she was shoved onto a large bed, she took in dark gray walls and lots of white linens.

“I know one person, at least. Someone who will be very happy to see his former pupil,” Marc whispered, his tongue tracing a circle around her nipple.

“You invited Kingsley!?”

“Yes. He's early.”

“I can't believe it! It's been so long! Get off me, he's gonna be here in a couple minutes, we need to get dressed,” Lily urged, shoving at his shoulders.

Suddenly, his hand came down hard over her mouth and her head was forced back into the mattress. She blinked up at Marc, watching as he glared at her.

“
Liliana,
” he sighed. “I love you quite possibly more than life itself, and normally your wish is my command, but right now I'm going to need you to shut the fuck up. We have about five minutes before Kingsley pulls up in the driveway, and I'm not stopping till you come, so you better get your head in the game.”

She couldn't help it, she started laughing. He finally laughed as well, and he moved his hand away so he could kiss her.

“It's hard to threaten me when the punishment is so good,” she pointed out. He nodded and moved to kneel between her legs.

“Good point. Four minutes left, sweetheart.”

“
Marcelle,
” she breathed, then bit into her bottom lip as she felt him push inside of her. He groaned and she felt a shudder run through his body.

“
Yes
. Yes, anything, yes,” he groaned.

“I love you, too,” she managed to pant before he started moving against her. He chuckled again.

“Every time I hear that, I thank god I got in your car that day. You, Lily, are by far the best thing I've ever stolen,” he told her. She smiled.

“That was beautiful. Now be quiet and get to work – we only have three minutes left.”

Would she do it all over again?

If it meant she got to spend a perfect afternoon in the middle of nowhere, in her own home, in bed with a man who was her equal in every way, shape, and form; a man who loved her just as much as she loved him …

In a heart beat.

This book was
NOT
easy. Not that any book is, but this book took the cake. Even Best Laid Plans, with its hours of in depth research, seems like a cakewalk in comparison.

As I've stated before and as my mission statement says, I never publish the first book in a series unless the series is completed. This is the truth – I wrote Best Laid Plan at the end of May/beginning of June. I wrote Out of Plans over the month of July, then put it aside while I finished editing and releasing Best Laid Plans.

But then something happened – I picked up Out of Plans, and I completely hated it. The plot had gotten completely lost, there were inconsistencies, and I'd grown to hate the characters, mainly because they weren't acting like themselves. It had been banged out, and it read like it. I thought oh well, a few rewrites here, spruce up some scenes there, it'll be good as new!

Wrong
. It just made it worse. Trying to fix something that was so heinously bad, just reinforced how bad it really was to me. I had just gotten back from a big overseas trip, and I was taking a week off in Oregon, figuring I could use the alone time to write. I didn't write at all. I sat and thought and wondered if it would be completely insane to scrap the entire story, 80,000+ words, and start completely from scratch, with only two months to get it done.

I did just that. I didn't
literally
scrap it; the original draft is still in tact on my computer – if all else failed, I would've endeavored with it and published it on schedule. As it was, there are several scenes from that draft that were knit into this version – in the original draft, the party at Damiano's house took place at the end of the story. Marc and Lily's fight in the tent was somewhere in the middle. Her and Kingsley's kiss was at the beginning.

But that's it. For three weeks in October, I wrote 100,000 brand new words for this story, and I was finally happy with it. So many things changed, and there were good things that were lost – an amazing plane crash scene! I'm thinking of using it in Kingsley's book – but I'm so happy with the way this one turned out. Once I stopped trying to force it, it seemed to come together much better.

This story belongs to Ratula Roy. Not only did she invest a lot of time and energy and emotions into this story, but for the first time, she had to deal with writer's block, albeit second-hand. Writer's block, and missed deadlines, and frustrations, and she handled it all beautifully, calming me down and encouraging me and inspiring me. These books would not exist with out her, that's just fact. So thank you, Ratula, for all your help. I couldn't have done it without you.

To Angie D., with your phenomenal notes. So thorough, it's mind blowing, and so professional, you could honestly give lessons on beta reading.

Thank you to Sunny for all your teasers and for always making me laugh. Thank you to Rebecca N., for your notes and for driving all the way to Seattle to eat in a mall – I had a blast, and I hope we can do it again soon. To Lheanne, and Letty, and Rebecca S., for reading and sending me your thoughts and ideas. Indie books wouldn't be possible without beta readers (well, at least not good books).

A big thank you has to be said to Carol from Beauty & Her Beastly Books. That original Out of Plans draft I wrote back in July? A majority of the book took place in Brazil, and Carol spent quite a few hours answering my questions and looking up geography and explaining customs. Unfortunately, most of that hard work didn't make it into this version, but to honor that work, I made Damiano's home town the same as hers. Thanks for all your help.

Thanks to Najla for my amazing covers, and to Stacey for the incredible interiors. This series is my favorite of all my paperbacks.

To Christine at Shh Mom's Reading for taking such excellent care of me – from cover reveals, to Teaser Tuesdays, to sales, to tours, all of it. I truly think you are one of the best at what you do. I realized this publication marks one year that we've been working together, and I hope to continue that trend into the next year.

Thanks to any and all bloggers for reading and supporting! Thank you Natasha is a Book Junkie, for loving Best Laid Plans so hard and for getting my “interesting” way of thinking and writing. To Schmexy Girls and Give Me Books and Cover to Cover Book Blog, to Book Loving Pixies and Heartsick Heroines and Beyond Boyfriend Reviews – too many to name them all, really, so thank you to ALL that have read and supported my work.

To a very special group of ladies on Goodreads – a lot of authors shy away from that site, but for me, you make it feel like a fun, inviting, and encouraging place. The way you all help each other and help authors, it's really been amazing to witness. So thanks, Shhluts, for make GR safe for authors again.

Thanks to the readers, new ones and those who have been there since the beginning. It never stops blowing my mind that someone out there has read the words I put down on paper. Thank you so much.

And as always, to Mr. F. Lots has happened since Best Laid Plans was first written, a big thing being that I'm now a full time writer. This has proven to be less glamorous, and much more stressful, than one would've thought. But his support is unflinching, even when I've worn my yoga pants ALL week, and I fall asleep with the TV and lights on. He's been there since the beginning. Since before that – all the way back to a creative writing class in 1998. You are an amazing man, Mr. F, and I certainly don't say it enough. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.