Redemption (17 page)

“There’s not just me to consider.”

He glanced at her belly, then placed his hand on top of it. The baby, still very active, gave a kick and John smiled a lopsided smile. “I know that. I don’t know what kind of dad I’ll be, but I’ll try my hardest.”

Her chin trembled and she placed her hand over his, feeling the scars, loving the man.

“I called my parents yesterday,” he said. “I told them about you. They’d like to meet you. I know… I know you don’t have any family left, but you’re more than welcome to share mine.”

A step in the right direction. She knew how hard it must have been for him to make that call.

“Yes,” she managed to say through her tears.

She held her arms out. John walked into them, gathering her close and burying his face in her hair. “Your father was right,” he whispered. “He who has Hope has everything.”

About the Author

To learn more about Sharon Cullen, please visit
www.sharoncullen.net
. Send an email to Sharon at [email protected] or subscribe to Sharon’s newsletter at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sharon_Cullen.

Look for these titles by Sharon Cullen

Now Available:

Night Song

Deception

(Book One of the
Love on the Edge
series)

The true threat lies within the heart…

Deception

© 2008 Sharon Cullen

Kate McAuley once thought Lucas Barone loved her, and returned that love for all she was worth—until the day he walked away without a word. Now, four years later she answers a knock on her door and finds Luke on her doorstep, broken, bleeding and unconscious. He brings with him all kind of emotions, and all kinds of questions. Where has he been? Why did he leave? And what’s an accountant doing with wounds like these?

As a covert ops specialist with the U.S. government, Luke deceived, betrayed and conned so many people he couldn’t keep them straight—except Kate. Their time together was magical, until the call came and he was forced to walk away. For four long years, memories of her have kept him alive and sane. Now, hunted by his own government, desperate and injured, Kate is the only one he can trust.

Kate’s innocent phone call for help sets in motion an evil that reaches the highest echelons of political power. With accusations of murder and treason hanging over their heads, it’ll take every ounce of Luke’s training, intelligence—and Kate’s trust—to keep them alive.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Deception:

“You’re not an accountant, are you?”

“Forensic accountant,” he said.

“Whatever.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Luke tried to think what to say next, torn between telling Kate everything and keeping his secrets to himself. She deserved to know, yet he’d sworn an oath of confidentiality. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Not a feeling he particularly enjoyed.

“So what are you?” she asked, refusing to look at him.

He checked his mirrors, then changed lanes, while trying to find the right answer and dealing with the fact that the government he’d very nearly given his life for had apparently just turned on him.

“I have a right to know,” she said, turning toward him. The bleak look in her eyes nearly killed him, but it also cemented his decision. She
did
deserve to know.

Once again he checked his rearview mirrors. “I’m an operative for the International Anti-Terrorist Task Force, or IATT, for short.”

“And that means?”

Luke clutched the steering wheel with his left hand and the gearshift with his right. What he was about to tell her was top secret. There were ramifications for divulging this information. Information that only the highest military brass knew. However, apparently he and Kate were running for their lives from that same agency so maybe that made his oath null and void.

“The IATT was formed just after 9/11. The President instituted Homeland Security but quickly realized he needed something with a wider reach, something other than the CIA, Al Qaeda and the Taliban knew about.” Luke paused but Kate didn’t seem inclined to fill the silence. “I go undercover into territories with known terrorist activity, gather intelligence. Do what needs to be done.”

Her fingers picked at the purple polish on her nails and he gave her the time she needed to understand what “do what needs to be done” meant.

“So what happened back there? At my house.”

Either she didn’t want to think about the things he’d done, or her shocked mind hadn’t processed that information yet. He wasn’t about to force her, accepting the reprieve for what it was. “Look, Kate. I’m sorry. I really believed you were safe. No one knew of our connection except my boss.”

“Your boss,” she repeated with that dead inflection. “So that means your boss sent a man to kill you?”

“Apparently.”

Traffic was starting to get heavy, rush hour just beginning. It would make it harder for him to spot a tail but easier to blend in and lose one as well. He glanced at his watch and wondered how much time they had before someone discovered Stuben’s body.

“Why would your boss want you dead?” Kate asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I intend to find out.”

She nodded, and another silence fell, this one thick with tension. Luke flipped on his turn signal and merged onto the entrance ramp.

“We’re going to the airport?” A hint of panic tinged her voice and he reversed his earlier thought. He’d rather have the bland tone rather than panic. He didn’t need a panicked woman right now.

“Not exactly.” He turned right when the light changed to green, pulled into a liquor store and parked under a sign shaped like a beer bottle. To their left, a jet seemed to hang suspended in the air, its nose pointed upward. Luke yearned to be on that jet, flying away with Kate beside him. No worries. No past that kept them apart.

He turned off the engine and cranked the window down to let the humid August air blow in. From here, he had a perfect view of long-term parking. A glance at his watch told him they had time so he settled in.

Kate watched the jet for a moment, then turned to him. Her eyes were still a bit glazed, but he could tell the shock was wearing off. “What now?” she asked.

“Now we wait. And talk.”

She sat on the edge of her seat. Her gaze bounced around the parking lot and the long-term parking across the street. She paused when she saw the stand of trees to her right.

“Don’t.”

She jumped and looked at him. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t run.”

“I wasn’t—”

“And don’t lie.”

She bit her lip and looked away. The heavy air stirred but did nothing to cool them off. Before prowling her house, Luke had found his jeans, washed and folded, on her dresser. His shirt had been ruined so he’d rummaged in her closet, coming out with a man’s white dress shirt. Now, for something to do and to give himself time to think, he rolled up the sleeves. He hadn’t wanted to think why she had a man’s shirt in her closet. He told himself it was none of his business.

“Are you married?”

The question startled him. “Hell, no!” he blurted out. “Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged. “It’s just... After you left, I wondered. You hear about that. Men who have a wife and a girlfriend and manage to keep them apart.”

He looked down at the sleeve he was rolling. “I’m not married,” he said again. He’d wondered what she’d thought all these months, agonized over the pain and grief he’d caused her. But his need to know hadn’t been enough to return. He’d had his reasons but now he began to wonder if they’d been selfish or for her own good as he’d tried to convince himself.

He dropped his arm and stared through the windshield. “I owe you an explanation.”

“Yeah. You do.”

He swallowed. He could do this. He could tell her what happened. He didn’t have to go into detail. Just tell her enough so she’d understand and convince her she needed to throw her lot in with him. But still, it took him a minute to gather the courage and to find the words he’d never spoken out loud before.

“I was sent to Peru because there’d been some terrorist activity down there. A group called People of Light.
La Gente de la Luz
.” He whispered that last to himself though he knew Kate could hear him. The memories he kept locked away pushed at his mind but he wouldn’t let them free.

“How long were you there?” she asked.

“Three months.” He couldn’t tell her the rest. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Movement in the long-term parking had him glancing at his watch. He turned to Kate, draping his arm over the back of her seat and hiding a wince when his ribs protested. “Look, Kate, I know I ruined whatever chance we had together. I know I have no right to ask you this, but I’d like you to trust me.”

Her eyes narrowed but he kept going, hoping if he talked enough, the right words would come. “I don’t deserve your trust. I know that. I accept that. But what happened at your house, it’s not good. My boss is after me for reasons I can’t even begin to figure out. She’s...” How to describe Suzanne? “Powerful. I’d feel better if you came with me. So I can protect you.”

An incredulous look crossed her face and he held up his hand, needing to say his piece. “I know I haven’t done a good job of that so far, but I can do it. It’s what I’m trained for. Come with me, please.” His voice cracked on the please. He didn’t want to leave her behind, and if she didn’t come with him, he honestly had no idea what he would do.

“Why don’t you call the police?” she asked.

“Because this is beyond the police.”

“No one’s that powerful, except maybe the president of the United States.”

He kept his mouth shut and Kate’s eyes went a little wider. “Are you saying the president of the United States is after you?”

“No.” But close.

She glanced uncertainly at the parking lot attendants, biting her bottom lip once again. “If I don’t go with you, what will you do? Where will you go?”

“It’s probably best you don’t know that.”

“What will happen to me?”

He didn’t know how to answer that question without scaring her, then decided maybe fear would help his situation. “Someone tried to kill me back there and he wouldn’t have left you alive as a witness. The only thing I can guarantee is that you’ll be safer with me than without me.” He paused. “I need to know. Are you coming or not?”

Hotshot spies never die. They just slip undercover.

Operation Sheba

© 2008 Misty Evans

Julia Torrison—codename Sheba—is keeping secrets.

Seventeen months ago she was a CIA superagent, tracking down dangerous terrorists with her partner and lover, Conrad Flynn. A mission was blown, literally, when a bomb Julia built exploded early and Conrad died.

Yanked back to Langley and given a new identity, she is now the Counterterrorism Center’s top analyst, spending her days at CIA headquarters and her nights in the bed of her boss. Her former life as a secret agent has been sealed off. Like her heart.

Conrad Flynn—codename Solomon—has his own secrets. For starters, he’s not dead. Going under the deepest cover possible, he faked his death to save Julia’s life. Now he must tear her life apart and ask her to help him hunt down a traitor: her new love.

Is Con a rogue agent or just a jealous ex-lover? To find out, Julia will have to enter a web of seduction and betrayal to play the spy game of her life using nothing more than her iPod—and her intuition.

Julia warns: “Beware of sexy spies bearing gifts. Trust no one and sleep with a gun under your pillow.” Conrad warns: “Sex, lies and tantalizing suspense…don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Operation Sheba:

The wind chimes outside the patio doors clanged gustily in the wind. Julia sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her bent legs, watching the wind blow sheets of rain across the cracked concrete patio.

“Would it help,” Conrad said quietly from behind Julia, “if I said I was sorry? Again?” His silhouette reflected in the glass as lightning ripped through the black sky.

She had sought solace in her apartment, locking the door behind her and leaving the lights off. An attempt, Conrad knew, to keep him out so she could hang her head and lose the control she had been fighting so hard to keep after learning of Michael Stone’s betrayal.

“No. It wouldn’t help.” Her voice sounded steady and yet still smart with emotion. “You’d be lying. You’re not sorry it’s Michael.”

“But I am sorry the asshole did a number on you.”

Julia’s eyebrows rose as she calmly accused him. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

Conrad clenched his jaw to fight back a response that would only get him in deeper shit. He couldn’t win this argument. No sense trying.

Julia, sensing his refusal to argue, shook her head mildly and ignored him again. A crack of lightning, the follow-up roll of thunder a few seconds later. Long minutes of silence.

Conrad shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Damn this sucked. He wanted her to lash out at him, yell, slam a door, cry in his arms again—like that hadn’t freaked him out a little, she never cried, but even that was preferable to this sudden silence—do something to blow off her anger and hurt. Then he could help her. But this…this withdrawal wasn’t healthy. The emotions would detonate inside her.

Maybe he should get in her face, argue with her until she broke. Tell her why he wasn’t like Stone. She would break, he knew that, and he damn sure would be there to pick up the pieces this time. “You have to talk to me, Jules.”

“No, actually, I don’t. Leave me alone. I need some time to think.”

“I have more information, more proof, if you want to see it.”

Julia cut her gaze to him as the rain continued to pelt the concrete. “I’ve seen and heard enough. The less I know, the more…how did Smitty put it? Effective? Yes that’s the word. The less I know the more
effective
I’ll be in your little sting operation.”

“So you’re going to help us?”

She snorted. “Do I have a choice?”

No
, he wanted to say, his need for her help almost as bad as his need for her forgiveness. At the same time he felt compelled after what he’d put her through to give her an out. “You always have a choice. I can’t force you to do this, to work with me.”

Her body tensed and he knew he’d said the wrong thing, although he wasn’t sure why it was wrong. Her help was critical to the success of the operation, but he didn’t want to push her into a corner. It would only backfire on him.

Her attention went back to the night outside the door. “What if,” she said, her voice controlled, deliberate, “the roles had been reversed seventeen months ago? What if you thought I was dead, Con, and it was your fault?”

Taking a step back, he let his back slide down the wall on the west side of the patio doors. He let himself think about it for a moment, but a moment was all it took. “I’d have gone crazy.”

Her response was just as quick. “But you’d have survived, just like I did.” And accurate.

Lightning flickered, illuminating Julia’s body with a blinking, strobe-like effect. The green eyes were black, her lips set in a grim line. Behind her set face, he knew she was coming to grips with Stone’s betrayal. With her current situation. With his request for her help. He watched as she continued to stare out at the night. She was right, they were survivors. Whatever the outcome of this operation, they would both survive.

He waited for her to tell him that. To assert that she would be fine. But silence was all he got.

Life with Julia had never been easy, but then he had never opted for easy in his life. To him, nothing easy was worth having. Challenge was what made his blood flow, his pulse pound.

Conrad had a superior operational mind and the balls to put his ideas into action. Intelligence mixed with cool logic and hyperawareness made him excel at everything from running agents to troubleshooting tickets for a sold-out game. Always ready for the next opportunity, he was an artful and cunning risk-taker. He loved the game and he loved to win.

In the
007
version of the Intelligence world, Conrad was an outstandingly good spy.

The problem was he had fallen in love with Julia, his opposite in ways the Myers-Briggs assessment test couldn’t begin to measure. And although her scope of assignments had been more limited than his, she was operationally his equal. That had caused just a few problems.

Being a good spook was the antithesis of being a normal person. Those who excelled at flirting with terrorists, assassins, drug dealers and the rest of the Earth’s scum usually sucked in the everyday departments of spouse, parent or friend.

That’s all right,
he thought.
Take all the time you need, love. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never leaving you again…