Ricochet (47 page)

Being prepared for any scenario is the trademark of any good CIA operative, and Eve Wolfe is one of the best. But when her latest mission literally explodes in her face, she wakes up labeled a traitor and—even more surprising—in the custody of elite Aegis Security operative and ex-lover Zane Archer. Although she still secretly has feelings for Zane, he’s now demanding the one thing that she can’t give him: the truth.

When he caught her breaking the rules years ago, Zane let Eve walk away without an explanation. Now someone has not only sabotaged Aegis but also turned an American city into a war zone, and all signs point to Eve. Zane needs answers that can come only from Eve’s still-tempting lips, and he finally has the elusive operative right where he wants her—at his mercy.

Series Release Schedule:

EXTREME MEASURES – book 1 – July 8, 2014

LETHAL CONSEQUENCES – book 2 – January 20, 2014

FATAL PURSUIT – book 3 – Summer 2015

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EXTREME MEASURES Excerpt:

Let her go. Don’t go after her. A smart guy would know he’s in over his head and leave well enough alone.

Yeah. Good advice. The problem was, when it came to Evelyn Wolfe, Zane had never been anything but a complete fucking idiot.

“Son of a bitch.” He pushed off the bed and crossed the floor. Running water echoed from the shower. He listened at the door but couldn’t hear her moving around. His skin vibrated. His muscles bunched while he stood still, trying to decide what to do. His breaths picked up speed as he imagined her naked under the spray, her flesh glossy and wet and pink from the heat.

His groin tightened. All the blood in his body seemed to rush due south. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight. There was too much energy arcing between them. And when he thought of the surprise he’d heard in her voice moments before—like she didn’t know she was his own personal form of kryptonite—his resistance where she was concerned crumbled just a little more.

Let her go. Don’t go after her.

Fuck it. He was tired of playing this game. Of dancing around each other. Of making himself insane.

He turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. Stepping into the steam-filled room, he could just make out her silhouette behind the white shower curtain. Head tipped up. Hands resting on the back of her neck. Perfect body filled out in all the right places, dripping with water as it hit her chest and slid down the curves and hollows of her physique, drawing him toward her like a magnet.

He waited until she stepped under the spray, then he pulled the shower curtain open at the back and moved into the tub behindher.

She didn’t immediately hear him. But she tensed when she sensed him, and before she could whip around, he caught her arms, wrapped them around her front, and pulled her back against him.

“Archer, what are you—?”

The soft curve of her ass pressed against his damp jeans and his already hardening cock.

“I’m done tiptoeing around this, Evie.”

Beneath his fingers, he felt the pulse in her wrists pick up speed. “Around what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do. This. You and me. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

She swallowed. “Archer—”

“Anytime the conversation gets personal, you run. Tell me, beautiful. Do I make you nervous?”

“As if.”

He tightened his grip on her wrists. “I think I do. I think you’re scared to death of me.”

She turned her head, just enough so he could see her profile and those plump, pouty lips. “Are you taking pain meds again? Because you sound higher than a kite. I’ve faced down terrorists. You’re a cupcake compared to them.”

A smile curled his lips. He watched droplets of water slide down the long, sexy column of her neck. “Always with the lies. How about the truth for a change? I think that’s what you’re most afraid of. I think it’s the truth that always makes you run.”

She tensed. “What have you been smok—?”

“You wanna ask the questions? Then you have to deal with the answers. Six months, Eve. I was in and out of physical therapy for six months after the raid in Guatemala. I didn’t just take a bullet, I took a shitload of shrapnel that tore my leg to pieces. Almost bled out on the helo. And you know what I thought about when I was in and out of hospitals and rehab and dealing with more doctors than any man should?”

“No,” she said quietly.

“Too bad. I thought about you.”

She was silent, but where his arms were crossed over hers against her chest, her heart pounded hard, and her breaths picked up speed.

“Now who lies?” she whispered. “You weren’t thinking about me for any reason other than wanting to make me pay for something I hadn’t done.”

“You’re right. I was. After I told Ryder what he could do with his job, I went to a friend’s place in the mountains of Mexico to recuperate. And the whole time I was there I thought about nothing but tracking you and finding out what you were up to. But I also thought about this.”

He released one wrist, slid his arm to the side and gently brushed his fingertips over her soft breast.

She sucked in a breath, and against his arm, her pulse ticked up higher.

“Do you remember this, Evie?” He slid his fingers over her nipple and circled just the very tip.

She wrestled her hands free and gripped his forearms, trying to push him away, but he only held her tighter against him. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Her movement gave him better access to her breast and pressed her ass harder against his groin. Blood pumping, he brushed his whole hand over her and cupped the soft mass in his palm. Then squeezed. She bit back a moan. “Because it feels too good? Or because it reminds you how much you want me?”

“I”—she exhaled a heavy breath—“don’t want you, idiot. I’m just stuck with you. What happened this morning was nothing more than adrenaline.”

God, she was good. But she wasn’t that good. “You know what I think? I think you’ve told so many lies, you don’t know when to stop. It’s stops now, Eve.”

He turned her quickly and pushed her up against the shower wall, face first, dragging her arms above her head. She gasped. Before she could decide what to do, he pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans and wrapped the leather around her wrists, tying them together. Then he pinned them against the cold tile.

“Goddammit, Archer. What the hell do you think you’re doing now?”

Water sprayed in his face and soaked his jeans. Keeping one hand pressed against her bound wrists, he reached up with the other and tipped the showerhead down so the spray hit at their waists. “Testing a theory. Time for a little truth or dare.”

Books sold at all major retailers.
Elisabeth Naughton

I’m thrilled to share the brand new series from my very close friend,
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling
Author Violet Duke

LOVE, TUSSLES, AND TAKEDOWNS,

book 1 from her CACTUS CREEK series

He's a better fighter

A fighter to the core, Hudson Reyes has collected enough battle scars now to last several lifetimes. But after his combat injuries retire him from the life he wasn't ready to give up, Hudson finds himself spending the carbon copy days of his new career as a Hollywood fight scene and weapons specialist just doing what he knows best: surviving. Until he meets her. The one woman who makes him want to live again. With wounds as deep as his own, she's a scrappy little thing--an angel-faced paradox that comes as a package deal with an offbeat town of admirably protective, but downright nosy folks.

And a wicked roundhouse kick that's become intimately familiar with his head.

...but she has all the weapons.

An antique arms authenticator by day and a self-defense instructor by night, Liana Lin has made a living turning the unthinkable demons of her past into the passions that fuel, and fill, her life. So when the unjustly handsome man she's been unable to stop thinking about literally takes her to the mat with martial arts styles unlike anything she's ever seen--pinning her with a molten hot stare that melts her like a marshmallow trapped between a graham cracker and a chocolate square--Lia flips into no-holds-barred fight mode. Because if one man could find a way to disarm her carefully-built defenses, it'd be him.

Now if only they could stop sparring long enough to find out...

THE CACTUS CREEK SERIES:

BOOK 1: A Little Combustible Chemistry [Prequel -- Luke & Dani]

BOOK 2: Love, Chocolate, and Beer [Luke & Dani]

BOOK 3: Love, Tussles, and Takedowns [Hudson & Lia]

BOOK 4: Love, Exes, and Ohs [Isaac & Xoey]

BOOK 5: Love, Sidelines, and Endzones [Grady & Sienna]

BOOK 6: A Little Holiday Meddling [Holiday Novella -- Noah & Katelyn]

Books sold at all major retailers.

LOVE, TUSSLES, AND TAKEDOWNS Excerpt:

“SON OF A BITCH!”

For a second, it seemed like time had stopped for Lia. Before fast-forwarding at warp speed. She'd realized about two seconds too late that her leg was whipping around to make contact not with some ski mask wearing psycho stalker rapist in her apartment.

But rather, Hudson.

The hot, sexy man she'd been dreaming about all night who could've easily gone on the offensive and fought back. She wasn't stupid. She knew the man could fight. But instead of going G.I. Joe on her as she was sure he could, he just muscled up and took the hit, jutting one of those canon-like arms up to presumably take the brunt of the kick on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Lia had impeccable aim.

Along with a tendency to fall back on her foundational Chinese kung fu training when she was reacting on instinct. He'd probably been expecting an MMA fighting style response, which would have resulted in her shin catching him in the shoulder.

Not her ankle clocking him in the head.

“Hudson!” She shot forward to his side as he staggered back against the wall.

While she was glad he was still standing, pride be truthful, she was rather surprised he wasn't out cold. She'd knocked out bigger men before with the same kick. Without nearly any of the self-preservation kill-or-be-killed adrenaline rushing through her veins.

Was it wrong that the fact that he was still standing there was a huge turn-on? It wasn't very evolved of her. But color her impressed.

The not-so-silent curse slipping past his clenched teeth brought Lia's attention back to what was definitely going to turn into a massive bruise on his temple. She flicked on the hallway light and ran to the kitchen. Grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, she spun around and jolted again when she found Hudson right behind her.

This time, he caught, not just blocked her impending strike.

“Woman, stop attacking me.”

“It's reflex,” she defended by way of apology. “You're the one who keeps sneaking up on me.”

“Only in self-defense. Earlier, it was to stop you from torture with a deadly vibrator.”

“What?!”

She jumped back a foot and refused to look down, the question poised for fire over his comment completely forgotten now due to a more recent…development. “Seriously, Hudson? I just kicked you in the head and that's your body's response.”

“Cut me some slack,” he grabbed the ice pack she was holding and paused just long enough for Lia to wonder if he was contemplating sticking it down his pants to 'cool off.'

A travesty she was glad he didn't go through with. Not that she was looking. And not that she was a connoisseur of that sort of art, or even a first-time spectator if she was being brutally honest. Then again, she didn't have to see the Eifel tower to be fan. And where Hudson was concerned, his 'tower' had felt unbelievably sexy. She was definitely a fan.

“Not helping, Lia.”

Dammit, who took control of her eyes and send them drifting down south?

All the female atoms in her body boldly raised their hands in reverence.

She shot her gaze back up to his face.

It occurred to her then that he was avoiding looking at her.

Maybe he was embarrassed. Not about this but rather, the whole head-kicking thing. Most guys didn't like it when she beat down on them. Funny, but she hadn't pictured Hudson with that sort of ego. “Look, Hudson-_ she began and took a step toward him.

After which, he promptly slid a step away from her. Eyes still averted. With a hand holding the ice pack to his head and the other balled in a fist and shoved down his front pocket, Hudson's voice graveled even more as he said, with what sounded like instant-jello-quick-dissolving patience, “Lia. Could you maybe put on a pair of shorts. A sheet. Something?”

What was he talking about?

She looked down and gasped.

Grabbing an oven mitt, which was barely helpful, she tried her best to hide the evidence that she liked wearing low-rise boyshort panties and sprinted back to her bedroom to look for the jeans she'd probably shucked off sometime during the night. It wasn't an uncommon thing. But it was extremely uncommon for someone to actually notice that she did it, seeing as how she hadn't had a guy greet her right out of bed since her husband.

And even he'd barely seen as much as Hudson had.