Ricochet (7 page)

“Zero was all we needed.”

A twist of fate that neither could’ve anticipated. Knowing now what Gray did for a living, made the chance meeting more profound and precious.

She swallowed over the emotions knotted in her throat. If she believed in fate. . .

She didn’t. Not anymore. Grayson’s betrayal three years ago had brought her back to reality from the fairytales with a resounding thump.

He’d broken her heart once, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass without letting him know she’d never stopped loving him. Asshole that he was.

Then she’d finally be able to set them both free.

It was going to be a second blow to her still cracked heart she wasn’t sure she’d recover from. But if she didn’t do this or face this, it would always haunt her.
He
would haunt her. As he always had. God. . . Her chest ached and her eyes burned.

She felt the wheels of the aircraft retract as the plane reached altitude. “How long’s the flight?”

“Fourteen hours give or take with refueling.”

She unsnapped the buckle. “Are you allowed to use electronic devices on this fancy plane of yours?”

“Su- Absolutely not.”

“Right answer.” She touched his unshaven jaw. He shuddered, closing his eyes as she traced his features lightly with one finger, then trailed a line from his stubborn jaw down the center if his chest.”

“Because I don’t want to have to figure out who you’re talking to when you’re with me. And I don’t want you talking to anyone
but
me for the next fourteen hours.”

“I’m your prisoner?”

Her lips curled into a smile as she glanced down at the seatbelt. “Yes. Do you need a hostage negotiator?”

“If you’re planning on keeping me as your love slave for fourteen hours you’re all I need.”

“Another right answer.”

G
ray stacked his hands under his head to watch her get dressed. She insisted on being clothed before they went into the main cabin to forage for something to eat. Mike had two juicy steaks with their names on them, just waiting to hit the broiler.

He admired Hannah’s pale butt, taut from her yoga classes. “You have a Grade A ass, you know that?” Grayson said lazily, enjoying the view. Golden hair a tangled mess around her shoulders, her creamy skin reddened in patches from his rough beard, she looked like a well satiated pagan goodness standing there naked.

Glancing at him over her shoulder she pulled black drawstring pants over her bare butt and reached for a long-sleeved t-shirt- also black. “You sweet-talking devil you. Hurry up and at least put pants on. Feed me. I have to eat to keep up my strength for the rest of the flight.”

He’d rather keep her in bed, but they both needed fuel. Reluctantly he flung his feet to the floor, and stood. Since his LockOut was in the other bathroom, he walked across to a hidden set of drawers to dig out an identical outfit to the one Hannah wore.

He knew as soon as he heard her horrified inhalation, that she’d just got a visual of the horrific scars on his back. Burns, whip slashes. Stonefish’s legacy. “Dear God,” she whispered, horror thick in her voice. “Who did that to you?”

He turned. He hadn’t wanted her to get a look at the worst of it. Stonefish was known for his secondhand cruelty. Never lifted a hand himself, but tortured through his intermediaries while he watched from a remote location. He was a sadistic son of a bitch, and Grayson suspected the men sent to work him over in that shoe-box-sized Columbian cell had added their own brutal twists to the interrogation.

“Stonefish. Indirectly- Oh, Jesus. Don’t cry, sweetheart. It was a long time ago.”

Rushing into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her tears hot on his chest. “It’s happening
today
for me.”

Grayson stroked her back murmuring soft words that made no sense, but seemed to calm her. Knowing his beautiful, delicate Tink had been
that
close to the sadistic fucker chilled Grayson’s blood.

“I want you to share every last horrific detail with me.” Her arms tightened. “But will you tell me, as briefly, and with as
little
detail as possible, so I know
now
?”

“I was on an op in Columbia. Captured a few weeks before returning home for our wedding. His people wanted information on what T-FLAC knew about the ALNF— For almost six months they kept me isolated in the mountains. Torture. Mind Games.
Hell
.” He didn’t want to downplay what he’d endured. Better she know now. “It was- bad. Real bad. But my men found me and broke me out. It took the better part of a year in the hospital and rehab-“

“You’d just been released from the hospital that night you came to see me? God, Gray! Why didn’t you tie me down and force me to listen to you?”

“Not exactly
released.
“ He kissed her tears away. “I saw you kissing some guy that afternoon, then my mother told me you’d met- Fuck, no that’s not it. Or rather all of it. Yeah, I was jealous. And under better circumstances, I would’ve gone in there and ripped the guy’s face off and staked my claim. But a moment of sanity prevailed. I knew, as much as it broke me to admit it to myself, that you deserved more than what I’d become. I was broken, Tink. Emotionally and physically. I didn’t want to accept it, but that was my reality.”

“I would’ve accepted you any way I got you.” Liquid blue eyes shone up at him. “I loved you unconditionally, Grayson. Then and even more so now. Don’t ever doubt that.”

A shudder went through his body as he shook off the lingering fear that she’d reject him out of hand. But this was Hannah- “I knew. It kept me going when things turned to shit. But I couldn’t inflict the man I’d become on you. I loved you too much. I would’ve destroyed everything good in you. That’s why it was best for me to fuck off and work on myself a while longer. You deserved a whole man. Not half of one.” He buried his nose in her still damp hair, swearing he could smell orange blossoms. “Stopping Stonefish has been my holy grail, my reason for moving through my days. He eluded me for three years, on four continents- Now he’s not only identified, but in T-FLAC’s hands. He won’t escape. He’s over. That impediment to our happiness is. . .over.”

“Over?” Drenched eyes haunted, she shook her head. “How could it be? He’s wrapped up, but the world is
filled
with terrorists. You know better than I do, there are always more. And I know you, Gray. You’ll always want to be in the thick of things. As soon as this is over, you’ll be on to your next assignment.”

“
You
are my next assignment, Hannah.”

“That’s nice to hear, but hardly practical.” She stepped out of his arms to pull on the T-shirt. It was a crime to cover those perky breasts. “I’m going home to Chicago, and hopefully I’ll persuade the Moms to sell the store. You’re a spy. How do those two diametrically opposed lives coexist? Even James Bond didn’t have a steady girlfriend.”

He’d tell her later that the pill Stonefish tried to give his lieutenant, Deeks, was cyanide. That they’d discovered that his feckless brother had stolen a handful of diamonds on his way off the ship. More than his buy in. Hannah could repay the Moms’ money three-fold. He’d tell her
all
that- later. Much later.

“I don’t want you as my girlfriend. We lost three years. I want us to get married and start our life together right away.”

“A rose covered cottage with a sniper rifle over the door? How do you see that working, Gray?”

Operatives
did
marry. It was always a work in progress, but they seemed to make it work. But if Hannah objected, he’d figure something else out. Because nothing, and no one was ever going to keep him away from her again. “I’ve been considering switching gears, and instructing operatives from our HQ in Montana. That’s just a couple of hours plane ride to Chicago. And as much as the Moms travel, they could change locations and buy places near us. I’m not promising easy, but will you come to Montana, marry me, and be my love, Tink?”

Cupping his face in both hands, her big blue eyes scanned his face. Her lips were pink and slightly swollen, and she drew in a small shuddering breath. “It’s all about taking risks, about rewards and second chances, isn’t it? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. No one will ever love you as much as I do. You’ve always been my heart, Grayson. Always. That will never change. So, yes, I’ll go anywhere with you. Everything else can be figured out as we get to it-“

Grayson wrapped her in his arms, tilting her chin so they were eye to eye. “Yeah. All that.” And he kissed her with everything in him. They were going to get that happy ending after all.

Always an adventurer in life as well as writing, New York Times best-selling author Cherry Adair moved halfway across the globe from Cape Town, South Africa to the United States in her early years to become an interior designer. She started what eventually became a thriving interior design business. “I loved being a designer because it was varied and creative, and I enjoyed working with the public.” A voracious reader when she was able to carve out the time, Cherry found her brain crowded with characters and stories of her own.

“Eventually,” she says, “the stories demanded to be told.” Now a resident of the Pacific Northwest she shares the award- winning adventures of her fictional T-FLAC counter terrorism operatives with her readers.When asked why she chooses to write romantic action adventure, she says, “Who says you can’t have adventure and a great love life? Of course if you’re talking about an adventurous love life, that’s another thing altogether. I write romantic suspense coupled with heart-pounding adventure because I like to entertain, and nothing keeps readers happier than a rollercoaster read, followed by a happy ending.”

Popular on the workshop circuit, Cherry gives lively classes on writing and the writing life. Pulling no punches when asked how to become a published writer, Cherry insists, “Sit your butt in the chair and write. There’s no magic to it. Writing is hard work. It isn’t for sissies or whiners.”

Cherry loves to spend time at home. A corner desk keeps her focused on writing, but the windows behind her, with a panoramic view of the front gardens, are always calling her to come outside and play. Her office has nine-foot ceilings, a fireplace, a television and built-in bookcases that house approximately 3,500 books.

“What can I say? My keeper shelf has been breeding in the middle of the night, rather like drycleaners’ wire clothes hangers.”

Note from Cherry:

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If you enjoyed Grayson and Hannah’s story, please consider writing an honest review for Ricochet.

Cheers,

Cherry