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Synopsis
After spending years in prison under deep cover, black ops agent Tucker Flynn joins A-Tac, an elite CIA unit masquerading as faculty at an Ivy League college. Nothing can shake him-except a vulnerable young woman marked for death. Dual Deception When Tucker is assigned to protect-and secretly investigate-Alexis Markham, he expects a routine mission. But this mysterious beauty has a past even darker than his: her father created a horrifying new biochemical weapon-and was murdered to keep it secret. Alexis has spent the last decade racing to stay one step ahead of the shadowy operatives who will stop at nothing to possess her father's formula. She can trust no one, not even her handsome new bodyguard. But the heat that flares between them is impossible to resist. Will giving in to passion bring her the safety she's always craved, or will her love for Tucker draw him into a killer's sights?
Release date: September 1, 2011
Publisher: Forever
Print pages: 368
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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Dee Davis
“Delightful… The perfect weekend or vacation read. The fast-paced story takes you through an intriguing game of cat and mouse
as protagonists solve the crime, save the world, and, of course, fall in love.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Five Stars, Top Pick! This series is fast-paced and action-packed. This book is a keeper. I, for one, cannot wait to see
what Ms. Davis will bring us next.”
—NightOwlReviews.com
“Her books… hold my attention like a vise. I highly recommend this book.”
—FreshFiction.com
“It is obvious that Ms. Davis has done her research to bring readers characters with knowledge and expertise… [A]n outstanding
series.”
—RomanceJunkiesReviews.com
“The characters were charming, the action fast-paced, and the romance hot. This is an author who knows how to pace a book
and add conflict.”
—Bookpleasures.com
“Rich in dialogue [with] a strong heroine and intricate plot. Full of twists, turns, and near-death encounters, readers will
consume this quickly and want more.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Danger, deception, and desire are the main literary ingredients in Davis’s high-adrenaline, highly addictive novel of romantic
suspense.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Dee Davis never fails to write exciting, sensuous stories featuring a diversity of strong flawed characters you empathize
with. Dangerous Desires’ pace is perfect, the dialogue clever, and the plotlines are surprising, captivating, and brilliant.”
—ReadertoReader.com
“Five Stars, Top Pick! Exciting… It will grab your attention and keep a hold of it until the last page. I have put Ms. Davis
on my auto buy list.”
—NightOwlReviews.com
“Dee Davis is the reason I started reading romantic suspense… A definite page-turner that will have you clinging to the edge
of your seat.”
—Renees-Reads.blogspot.com
“High-stakes action and high-impact romance… Dee Davis leaves me breathless.”
—Roxanne St. Claire, New York Times bestselling author
“Dee Davis always keeps me on edge from start to finish! I read this book in one sitting… a keeper!”
—FreshFiction.com
“Dee Davis sure knows how to nail a romantic suspense. Packed full of tension, action, and romance, this book is a page-turner
from beginning to end.”
—BookPleasures.com
“5 Stars! Sparks fly between Annie and Nash… If you like a good romantic suspense story, you’ll really enjoy this book.”
—JustShortofCrazy.com
“An exciting, fast-paced romantic suspense packed with action, adventure, and hot romantic chemistry.”
—FictionVixen.com
Walsenburg, Colorado
I’m telling you, he likes you.”
“Oh, please, there’s no way.” Lexie stopped at the corner under the streetlight and glared at her best friend. “He never even
talks to me.”
“That’s because he likes you.” Amanda smiled, shaking a finger to emphasize her point.
“Definitely circular logic,” Lexie said, her heart beating just a little faster at the thought that Mike Kennedy might actually
like her. Mike was the captain of the football team and practically the best-looking guy in town. Too high profile for her father,
of course, but Lexie couldn’t help thinking how it would feel to be Mike’s girlfriend. She’d be the envy of all the girls,
and, well, practically normal.
“But you want it to be true.” Amanda’s eyes sparkled in the lamplight.
“Yeah.” Lexie grinned. “I guess I do. You really think there’s a chance?”
“I’m sure of it.” Amanda reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “You’re prettier than any of the other girls at school. And you’re a heck of a lot more fun. All you really need
to do is get out a bit more. I mean, in the six months since you moved here, this is the first time you’ve ever come with
me to a basketball game.”
“I’m not that into sports.” Lexie felt the familiar weight of her guilt settle in her gut.
“Bull. I saw you at the game, remember? You were having a great time.” Amanda frowned, her expression troubled. “Is there
something wrong at home? Something maybe you should tell me?”
“No.” Lexie shook her head, forcing a smile. “Everything’s fine.”
“So you’ll come to the party on Friday night?”
“I don’t know.” Lexie sighed. “I’d like to, but I really don’t think my dad will let me.” Actually there was no question about
it at all. Going to things like parties and basketball games were totally off limits. She’d only been able to go tonight because
she’d lied to her mother and said she’d be at the library.
But there was no way she wanted to start making a habit of it. Her father’s reasons were sound, and Lexie really didn’t want
to jeopardize everything by defying him. There’d be other nights when she could manage to slip out. But certainly not twice
in one week.
“All right.” It was Amanda’s turn to sigh. “I won’t push. But Mike Kennedy will be there.”
“I know.” Lexie chewed the side of her lip, thinking that maybe she could manage to sneak away. It was only a party, after
all. No danger in that. “Maybe I can manage to go for a little while.” She glanced down at her watch. “But only if I get home
on time.”
“Glad I don’t have a curfew.” Amanda’s eyes were sympathetic. “Want me to walk with you?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” Lexie hugged her friend and then hurried down the street, breaking into a
sprint as she headed for home. She was already a few minutes late, but in truth, her parents wouldn’t be angry. They trusted
her. Which made her feel all the worse for having lied. It seemed like she lied to everyone these days. To her friends about
her life at home, and to her family about her life with her friends.
It was almost as if she were two people. One of them normal. One of them not.
She sighed, her thoughts turning to Mike Kennedy. It would be so amazing to be his girlfriend. But even as she had the thought
she dismissed it. Some things were just beyond her reach. And no matter how much she might play at being a regular teenager,
she wasn’t one.
Lexie rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, her throat tightening as she tried to swallow her scream. At the end of the
cul-de-sac, what was left of her house shown black against the fire-illuminated sky. Flames shot out of the roof, thrusting
upward toward the heavens as if hell itself had found a portal from one world to the other.
Maybe it had.
Fire trucks and ambulances filled the street, neighbors standing barefooted on their lawns watching in horror. Lexie fought
against the terror that held her frozen. She had to find her family, had to be sure that everyone was okay. She concentrated
on her body, forcing her feet forward, one step at a time, moving faster and faster until she was running.
She tripped on a piece of fallen debris, the asphalt from the street tearing her palms. Choking on bile and tears, she pushed herself to her feet and would have run again, except
that someone was there, stopping her.
“Lexie, no. It’s too late. There’s nothing you can do.”
She looked up into the face of her father’s friend, trying to shake off his hands, to go to her father and mother. They struggled
for a moment, and then she broke free, sprinting forward, only to hesitate at the sound of his voice behind her.
“You can’t go. You’re the only one left. If they get you then they win.”
Lexie didn’t want to hear his words, didn’t want to face the reality of a world without her father, without her family. But
she was her father’s daughter, and the instinct for self-preservation was ingrained soul deep.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes still on the carnage in front of her. “You’re sure they’re all dead?”
“Positive.” George’s voice was as soft as his hand on her arm. “They’re gone, Lexie.”
“And the authorities? Do they think it was an accident?” She felt as if she’d aged a thousand years in a single moment, her
childhood incinerated as completely as the house she’d called home.
“They’re not saying anything. And I was afraid to ask.” There was a note of apology in George’s voice, but Lexie shook her
head.
“It’s all right. Daddy wouldn’t want you to be caught either.” There was a code among those in her community. Protect the
right to anonymity at all costs. Some of the people she knew had done things, in the name of right, that if discovered would
mean time in prison. Others, like her father, had simply been accused of things they’d never done.
But either way, the network would be secure only if they adhered to the rules.
Her gaze settled on the fiery tomb in front of her. Someone had obviously broken that trust. Betrayed her family. Betrayed
her father.
And one thing Lexie was absolutely certain of—she wouldn’t rest until the traitor paid.
Redlands, California—Thirteen Years Later
Tucker Flynn was turning into his father. The old man had been nothing if not predictable. So much so that Tucker and his brother
had always sworn to be just the opposite. And looking at recent history, he’d have to say they’d achieved their goal in spades.
Until now.
Tucker checked his watch as he stepped out of the car: exactly 10:30. Shit. It seemed he’d developed a routine. The coffee
shop beckoned even as he considered hopping back into the Jeep and heading for the hills. Or at least somewhere that wasn’t
exactly the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.
Hell.
He blew out a long breath and shook his head in disgust. After years in prison in San Mateo, he’d have thought routine would
be the last thing he desired. And yet here he was, newspaper in hand with a hankering for a cup of coffee and the caramel
rolls Weatherbees was famous for. After holding the door for an exiting man in a Dodgers hat, Tucker walked inside and took his customary place in the corner booth, partially
from habit, but also a remnant of his espionage days. It was always better to keep your back to the wall and your eyes on
the room.
Not that there was anything to see, really. Redlands was a sleepy little town with little to recommend it but a university,
a backdrop of mountains and orange groves, and a handful of mansions left over from the railroad-baron days. Tucker’s father
had been a schoolteacher. His mother… well, bitch was the word that came to mind. She hadn’t been able to deal with small-town America, even Southern California style. So
she’d hit the road, leaving Tucker’s dad with two little boys. He’d risen to the occasion but lost a part of himself in the
process.
Maybe that’s why all the routines.
Tucker nodded as the waitress brought him his coffee and roll. He never talked to any of them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t
know who he was. There’d been a flurry of newspaper articles when he’d first come home. Native son, risen from the dead and
all that. The official story was that he’d managed to escape the plane crash that killed the rest of his unit, but wound up
in a hospital with no memory of what happened.
Of course the real truth—his escape from Colombia, his friend’s betrayal, and Lena’s death—none of that was public knowledge.
Hell, the brass at Langley had buried it so damn deep Tucker doubted it would ever come to light. Which suited him just fine.
He sipped his coffee, his gaze moving slowly around the diner. The place was pretty empty, the morning crowd long gone and
the lunchtime rush still an hour or so away. A couple across the way was canoodling over lattes. A businessman one booth up was lost in the financial pages. And an older
man in the far corner was fidgeting with his spoon as he gazed out the window, clearly waiting for something or someone.
Tucker dropped his gaze, trying to focus on the sports page. The Bulldogs had pulled out a walk-off win in the ninth. And
in LA the Angels had beaten the Yankees. First game in the series. If Drake were still here, they’d probably be on their way
to the stadium right now. But Drake was in New York, at Sunderland. Or maybe he was off on a mission. Hard to know for certain.
Although his wife, Madeline, usually called when he left the country.
Maybe Tucker should have gone with them when they’d headed back to New York. Maybe he’d be better off working again. But that
part of his life was over. Dead and buried. Pain, pointed and heavy, speared his gut. Lena. He closed his eyes, memories of
her smile dancing just beyond his reach, her laughter echoing deep inside him.
Angry at his maudlin turn of thought, he took a sip of coffee, the hot, acrid beverage pulling him firmly back into the present.
The older man was standing now, a smile of joy spreading across his face as a young woman strode through the doorway, arms
extended.
“George,” she cried, throwing herself into his arms. “It’s been so long.”
The two of them moved out of earshot as they walked back to his table, but even without words Tucker could feel her joy. Blonde
in a way that only women in California seemed to be able to achieve, naturally or otherwise, she was tall and lithe, her body
bronzed by the sun, a dimple in her left cheek making her seem even younger. Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, and her hands were in constant motion as she talked. The old man’s face lit up in
her presence, the years seeming to drop away.
Tucker idly wondered at their connection. Father, maybe. Although she’d called him by his first name. He rejected the notion
that they were amorously connected. Neither of them seemed the May-December type. Old friends, then. That much was clear.
He smiled, still watching the two of them, their hands joined together as their voices lowered and the tone of the conversation
turned serious.
Tucker shook his head, wondering when his life had gotten so dull he’d started living vicariously through total strangers.
Next he’d start adopting cats. He cut off a piece of the caramel roll and stuffed it into his mouth.
A burst of synthesized music signaled an incoming call, and he grabbed the cell phone, grateful for the interruption. “Flynn,”
he barked into the phone.
“Same here,” came the answer, a thread of laughter lacing through his brother, Drake’s, voice. “Thought I’d check in and see
how you’re doing.”
“Bored out of my fucking mind,” Tucker said, not making any effort to sugarcoat his words. “I’m at Weatherbees, and I think
I’m turning into Dad.”
“It could be worse,” Drake replied. “You could be turning into our mother.”
“Bite your tongue.” Tucker shifted so he could better see the blonde. “Anyway, what’s up? You don’t usually call to chat.”
She was still waving her hands, but they clearly conveyed anger now. Seemed the joyous reunion had turned sour.
“Hey, can’t a guy check in on his brother?” Drake asked, pulling Tucker’s attention back to his conversation.
“A guy, yes. You, no. You’re not the nurturing type.”
“Well, I sure as hell better be,” his brother mumbled. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’ve got news.” There was a pause,
and Tucker smiled. His brother was never at a lack for words. Except when it had to do with Madeline.
“So, what?” Tucker teased. “Your wife left you?”
“Give me a break,” Drake said. “The woman adores me.”
“That she does,” Tucker admitted, still smiling. Madeline Reynard Flynn was the kind of woman who loved without reservation.
Drake had been lucky to find her. And Tucker was happy to have played a part in it. “So what’s the news?”
“Hang on,” Drake said, fumbling with the phone. “There’s another call. Avery. Be right back.”
The line went dead as his brother took the call from his boss. Tucker felt a stab of envy. He’d sworn he wouldn’t go back
to the life, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the pull of it. There was a rush involved with working black ops, an adrenaline
surge you couldn’t get anywhere else.
He leaned back, phone to his ear, waiting for his brother to return. The blonde was on her feet now, her hands cutting through
the air as she argued with the old man. He was standing too, fists on the table as he tried to make her see reason. Good luck
with that. Tucker recognized the set of her shoulders. She wasn’t about to give in. Whatever had set her off, the old man
wasn’t anywhere close to assuaging her.
“Hey, Tucker, you still there?” Drake asked. “Sorry about that. Company business.”
“So you off to somewhere exciting? Is that the news?” Tucker waited, half listening, as he watched the blonde. With a final snap of her head, she pivoted and stalked from the coffee shop, the old man left standing there, a look of resigned
acceptance coloring his face. Whatever they’d fought about, he hadn’t come out on the winning side.
“No. Well, actually, maybe yes. But that’s not why I called. Madeline just found out she’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father.”
Drake’s words were slow to penetrate, but when they did, Tucker let out a whoop. “Holy shit. That makes me an uncle.”
“Well, not yet. It takes time.”
“Nine months, I believe,” Tucker said. “Anyway, it’s awesome news.” Outside a motor roared to life and the blonde peeled out
of the parking lot. The old man was still standing there, hands on the table, looking as if he’d lost his last hope. “How
far along is she?” Tucker asked.
“Just under two months. We’re actually supposed to wait until after the three-month mark to tell people. But I couldn’t wait.”
“A new generation of Flynns. Definitely something to celebrate.” Across the room the old man sat back down and reached into
his pocket. Tucker nodded as his brother talked, even though he couldn’t actually see him. Despite the importance of his brother’s
news, something was tugging at his brain.
From force of habit he searched the diner, trying to figure out what was bugging him.
“Tucker, are you listening to me?” his brother’s voice broke into his reverie and he shook his head, certain that he was overreacting.
This was Redlands, for God’s sake.
“I’m here. Sorry. Just got distracted for a moment.” He shook his head, chagrined at himself and his voyeuristic tendencies.
“You were talking about due dates.”
“Yeah. I said we want to be sure you’re here when the time comes. Hell, you know I want you up here permanently.”
“What? And turn into a Yankees fan?” Tucker laughed, his eyes still on the old man as he struggled to find something. “Not
fucking likely.”
“Hey, I’m still Angels all the way. You can take a guy out of California…”
… but you can’t take California out of the guy,” Tucker finished for him. It was a catchphrase their dad had always used.
“Well, at least some things don’t change.”
The old man was reaching into his back pocket now, his hands shaking as he struggled to find whatever he was looking for.
Tucker frowned and then blew out a slow breath as he finally figured out what the hell it was that had been bugging him. A
backpack. Underneath the old man’s table. He tried to remember if the blonde had brought it in. But, to be honest, he’d been
too distracted by her honey-colored skin and golden hair to notice. From its positioning, though, he was fairly certain it
didn’t belong to the old man.
“Tucker, what’s going on?” Drake asked, concern coloring his voice. “You’re not pissed because I’m having a baby before you?”
“Yeah, right.” He frowned, forcing himself to ignore his instincts and concentrate on his brother.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, if Lena had…” Drake trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.
“Lived? Yeah, well, even so, neither of us was the childrearing kind. So no worries, little brother.”
“I didn’t mean to—” Drake started, and then stopped.
“I know. And it’s okay. Besides, I’m serious. I’m not cut out to be a father. Hell, maybe not even a husband. Especially not now. Anyway, I’ll leave all that to you and Madeline, and I’ll play the role of doting uncle. That I can do.”
“Yeah, I shudder to think exactly what that’ll mean.”
“The perfect trifecta. Baseball, hot dogs, and beer.” Tucker laughed as the old man finally located his phone and started
to dial. Beneath him the corner of the backpack lit up, blinking red. “Fuck,” Tucker said, his gaze moving to the other patrons
in the diner. “Everybody get down. Now.”
“Tucker?” He heard his brother’s voice as he dove underneath the table, the world around him suddenly splintering into light
and sound, the force of the blast tearing through brick, plaster, and plate glass.
It was over in a moment, the little restaurant suddenly eerily still, debris raining down, sounding almost like rain against
the tabletop. Carefully, Tucker pushed aside the rubble and crawled out from under the table. Sirens wailed in the distance,
a cloud of dust choking him as it descended with the debris. The couple across the way were bloodied, but alive, the boy’s
arm protectively around the girl, his eyes still wide with fear.
“You okay?” Tucker asked.
The boy opened his mouth to reply but nodded instead, words deserting him as he pulled his sobbing girlfriend closer.
The waitress emerged from behind the counter, her arm clutched to her chest, blood snaking down from her shoulder. Like the
couple, her face was ashen. “Lou,” she whispered, her eyes cutting to the floor. “He isn’t breathing.”
Tucker pushed through the rubble to where the businessman had been sitting. Lou. The man was curled in a fetal position on the floor, a piece of sheared glass bisecting his neck. Blood pooled beneath him. Tucker grabbed his wrist,
feeling for a pulse, already knowing the answer. His eyes met the waitress’s, and he shook his head.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“Get them out of here,” Tucker said, motioning to the couple. “The rest of the building could come down at any minute. It’s
not safe.”
The woman hesitated, her eyes still locked on the dead man.
“There’s nothing else you can do for him,” Tucker told her, his voice gentle. “You need to go. Now.”
She acquiesced, and with the help of the boy, the three of them climbed over the broken tables out onto the street.
“Tucker?” Drake’s frantic voice echoed amidst the rubble and Tucker realized he was still holding his cell phone.
“I’m here.”
“Are you okay?” Drake asked.
“I’m fine,” Tucker answered, his eyes on the spot where the old man had been sitting. There was nothing left but rubble. The
booth was gone. Incinerated.
“What the hell happened?”
“Bomb.” Tucker said, his mind going to the moment before the explosion—the backpack, the old man, and his cell phone. “Someone
just blew the fuck out of Weatherbees.”
Alexis Markham stopped pacing long enough to glance out the hotel window. Clouds were gathering on the horizon, a storm descending
from the mountains. On any other day she’d have stopped to drink in the beauty. She’d always loved the mountains. But these
days, more than ever, they only reminded her of everything she’d lost.
And George was trying to take it all away. Again. He was the only family she had left. They might not share blood, but their
bond was still a strong one. George had been there during the worst time of her life. He was the one who’d quite literally
saved her—from the horror, the pain, and eventually even herself. He’d been her touchstone. Her anchor. Even when he was in
prison, they’d found ways to stay in touch. But now—
She clenched her fists, turning her back on the mountains. Now he wanted nothing more to do with her. His words echoed in
her head. “We can’t do this anymore. You’ve got to build a new life. One without me in it.” She’d argued, fought back, pleaded even, but George had been resolute.
So she’d walked out on him. It was modus operandi, even after all this time. Disappear first. Question later.
She crossed her arms over her chest as the canned laughter coming from the TV mocked her. Some sappy family show. Seemed appropriate.
She sank down on the bed, fighting against tears. She hadn’t cried in years. Hell, she hadn’t even known she still could.
Most of her heart had died with her family. Her mom and dad. Her brother. And now George wanted to destroy the only part that
was left.
Angrily, she wiped away the tears. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was no place left in her life for him. After all, she’d
made a place for herself in the world. A shadowy one, to be certain. But without George, her ties to the past were gone.
No one was looking for her, and, thanks to George, no one even knew she existed. Lexie Baker had died in an explosion with
the rest of her family. Alexis Markham had taken her place. Thirteen years was a long time to carry such a burden. Maybe it
was time to let it go. She frowned, sucking in a breath. There’d been something more to what George had been trying to tell
her. He hadn’t just wanted to sever ties; he’d wanted her to create a new identity.
And considering how carefully they’d laid the groundwork for her current existence, that didn’t make sense. Unless someone
else knew who she was. Suddenly nervous, she carefully checked out the room, and then, satisfied that she was safe, at least
for the moment, she reached for her cell.
It wasn’t really hers. Just a throwaway she’d bought for the trip. Never take chances. That was George’s motto. And he’d drilled
it into her head. Nothing that can be traced. Ever. In today’s technology-driven world, it wasn’t always easy. But so far,
at least, she’d managed to stay off the radar. She closed her eyes, calling to mind th. . .
as protagonists solve the crime, save the world, and, of course, fall in love.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Five Stars, Top Pick! This series is fast-paced and action-packed. This book is a keeper. I, for one, cannot wait to see
what Ms. Davis will bring us next.”
—NightOwlReviews.com
“Her books… hold my attention like a vise. I highly recommend this book.”
—FreshFiction.com
“It is obvious that Ms. Davis has done her research to bring readers characters with knowledge and expertise… [A]n outstanding
series.”
—RomanceJunkiesReviews.com
“The characters were charming, the action fast-paced, and the romance hot. This is an author who knows how to pace a book
and add conflict.”
—Bookpleasures.com
“Rich in dialogue [with] a strong heroine and intricate plot. Full of twists, turns, and near-death encounters, readers will
consume this quickly and want more.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Danger, deception, and desire are the main literary ingredients in Davis’s high-adrenaline, highly addictive novel of romantic
suspense.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Dee Davis never fails to write exciting, sensuous stories featuring a diversity of strong flawed characters you empathize
with. Dangerous Desires’ pace is perfect, the dialogue clever, and the plotlines are surprising, captivating, and brilliant.”
—ReadertoReader.com
“Five Stars, Top Pick! Exciting… It will grab your attention and keep a hold of it until the last page. I have put Ms. Davis
on my auto buy list.”
—NightOwlReviews.com
“Dee Davis is the reason I started reading romantic suspense… A definite page-turner that will have you clinging to the edge
of your seat.”
—Renees-Reads.blogspot.com
“High-stakes action and high-impact romance… Dee Davis leaves me breathless.”
—Roxanne St. Claire, New York Times bestselling author
“Dee Davis always keeps me on edge from start to finish! I read this book in one sitting… a keeper!”
—FreshFiction.com
“Dee Davis sure knows how to nail a romantic suspense. Packed full of tension, action, and romance, this book is a page-turner
from beginning to end.”
—BookPleasures.com
“5 Stars! Sparks fly between Annie and Nash… If you like a good romantic suspense story, you’ll really enjoy this book.”
—JustShortofCrazy.com
“An exciting, fast-paced romantic suspense packed with action, adventure, and hot romantic chemistry.”
—FictionVixen.com
Walsenburg, Colorado
I’m telling you, he likes you.”
“Oh, please, there’s no way.” Lexie stopped at the corner under the streetlight and glared at her best friend. “He never even
talks to me.”
“That’s because he likes you.” Amanda smiled, shaking a finger to emphasize her point.
“Definitely circular logic,” Lexie said, her heart beating just a little faster at the thought that Mike Kennedy might actually
like her. Mike was the captain of the football team and practically the best-looking guy in town. Too high profile for her father,
of course, but Lexie couldn’t help thinking how it would feel to be Mike’s girlfriend. She’d be the envy of all the girls,
and, well, practically normal.
“But you want it to be true.” Amanda’s eyes sparkled in the lamplight.
“Yeah.” Lexie grinned. “I guess I do. You really think there’s a chance?”
“I’m sure of it.” Amanda reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “You’re prettier than any of the other girls at school. And you’re a heck of a lot more fun. All you really need
to do is get out a bit more. I mean, in the six months since you moved here, this is the first time you’ve ever come with
me to a basketball game.”
“I’m not that into sports.” Lexie felt the familiar weight of her guilt settle in her gut.
“Bull. I saw you at the game, remember? You were having a great time.” Amanda frowned, her expression troubled. “Is there
something wrong at home? Something maybe you should tell me?”
“No.” Lexie shook her head, forcing a smile. “Everything’s fine.”
“So you’ll come to the party on Friday night?”
“I don’t know.” Lexie sighed. “I’d like to, but I really don’t think my dad will let me.” Actually there was no question about
it at all. Going to things like parties and basketball games were totally off limits. She’d only been able to go tonight because
she’d lied to her mother and said she’d be at the library.
But there was no way she wanted to start making a habit of it. Her father’s reasons were sound, and Lexie really didn’t want
to jeopardize everything by defying him. There’d be other nights when she could manage to slip out. But certainly not twice
in one week.
“All right.” It was Amanda’s turn to sigh. “I won’t push. But Mike Kennedy will be there.”
“I know.” Lexie chewed the side of her lip, thinking that maybe she could manage to sneak away. It was only a party, after
all. No danger in that. “Maybe I can manage to go for a little while.” She glanced down at her watch. “But only if I get home
on time.”
“Glad I don’t have a curfew.” Amanda’s eyes were sympathetic. “Want me to walk with you?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” Lexie hugged her friend and then hurried down the street, breaking into a
sprint as she headed for home. She was already a few minutes late, but in truth, her parents wouldn’t be angry. They trusted
her. Which made her feel all the worse for having lied. It seemed like she lied to everyone these days. To her friends about
her life at home, and to her family about her life with her friends.
It was almost as if she were two people. One of them normal. One of them not.
She sighed, her thoughts turning to Mike Kennedy. It would be so amazing to be his girlfriend. But even as she had the thought
she dismissed it. Some things were just beyond her reach. And no matter how much she might play at being a regular teenager,
she wasn’t one.
Lexie rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, her throat tightening as she tried to swallow her scream. At the end of the
cul-de-sac, what was left of her house shown black against the fire-illuminated sky. Flames shot out of the roof, thrusting
upward toward the heavens as if hell itself had found a portal from one world to the other.
Maybe it had.
Fire trucks and ambulances filled the street, neighbors standing barefooted on their lawns watching in horror. Lexie fought
against the terror that held her frozen. She had to find her family, had to be sure that everyone was okay. She concentrated
on her body, forcing her feet forward, one step at a time, moving faster and faster until she was running.
She tripped on a piece of fallen debris, the asphalt from the street tearing her palms. Choking on bile and tears, she pushed herself to her feet and would have run again, except
that someone was there, stopping her.
“Lexie, no. It’s too late. There’s nothing you can do.”
She looked up into the face of her father’s friend, trying to shake off his hands, to go to her father and mother. They struggled
for a moment, and then she broke free, sprinting forward, only to hesitate at the sound of his voice behind her.
“You can’t go. You’re the only one left. If they get you then they win.”
Lexie didn’t want to hear his words, didn’t want to face the reality of a world without her father, without her family. But
she was her father’s daughter, and the instinct for self-preservation was ingrained soul deep.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes still on the carnage in front of her. “You’re sure they’re all dead?”
“Positive.” George’s voice was as soft as his hand on her arm. “They’re gone, Lexie.”
“And the authorities? Do they think it was an accident?” She felt as if she’d aged a thousand years in a single moment, her
childhood incinerated as completely as the house she’d called home.
“They’re not saying anything. And I was afraid to ask.” There was a note of apology in George’s voice, but Lexie shook her
head.
“It’s all right. Daddy wouldn’t want you to be caught either.” There was a code among those in her community. Protect the
right to anonymity at all costs. Some of the people she knew had done things, in the name of right, that if discovered would
mean time in prison. Others, like her father, had simply been accused of things they’d never done.
But either way, the network would be secure only if they adhered to the rules.
Her gaze settled on the fiery tomb in front of her. Someone had obviously broken that trust. Betrayed her family. Betrayed
her father.
And one thing Lexie was absolutely certain of—she wouldn’t rest until the traitor paid.
Redlands, California—Thirteen Years Later
Tucker Flynn was turning into his father. The old man had been nothing if not predictable. So much so that Tucker and his brother
had always sworn to be just the opposite. And looking at recent history, he’d have to say they’d achieved their goal in spades.
Until now.
Tucker checked his watch as he stepped out of the car: exactly 10:30. Shit. It seemed he’d developed a routine. The coffee
shop beckoned even as he considered hopping back into the Jeep and heading for the hills. Or at least somewhere that wasn’t
exactly the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.
Hell.
He blew out a long breath and shook his head in disgust. After years in prison in San Mateo, he’d have thought routine would
be the last thing he desired. And yet here he was, newspaper in hand with a hankering for a cup of coffee and the caramel
rolls Weatherbees was famous for. After holding the door for an exiting man in a Dodgers hat, Tucker walked inside and took his customary place in the corner booth, partially
from habit, but also a remnant of his espionage days. It was always better to keep your back to the wall and your eyes on
the room.
Not that there was anything to see, really. Redlands was a sleepy little town with little to recommend it but a university,
a backdrop of mountains and orange groves, and a handful of mansions left over from the railroad-baron days. Tucker’s father
had been a schoolteacher. His mother… well, bitch was the word that came to mind. She hadn’t been able to deal with small-town America, even Southern California style. So
she’d hit the road, leaving Tucker’s dad with two little boys. He’d risen to the occasion but lost a part of himself in the
process.
Maybe that’s why all the routines.
Tucker nodded as the waitress brought him his coffee and roll. He never talked to any of them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t
know who he was. There’d been a flurry of newspaper articles when he’d first come home. Native son, risen from the dead and
all that. The official story was that he’d managed to escape the plane crash that killed the rest of his unit, but wound up
in a hospital with no memory of what happened.
Of course the real truth—his escape from Colombia, his friend’s betrayal, and Lena’s death—none of that was public knowledge.
Hell, the brass at Langley had buried it so damn deep Tucker doubted it would ever come to light. Which suited him just fine.
He sipped his coffee, his gaze moving slowly around the diner. The place was pretty empty, the morning crowd long gone and
the lunchtime rush still an hour or so away. A couple across the way was canoodling over lattes. A businessman one booth up was lost in the financial pages. And an older
man in the far corner was fidgeting with his spoon as he gazed out the window, clearly waiting for something or someone.
Tucker dropped his gaze, trying to focus on the sports page. The Bulldogs had pulled out a walk-off win in the ninth. And
in LA the Angels had beaten the Yankees. First game in the series. If Drake were still here, they’d probably be on their way
to the stadium right now. But Drake was in New York, at Sunderland. Or maybe he was off on a mission. Hard to know for certain.
Although his wife, Madeline, usually called when he left the country.
Maybe Tucker should have gone with them when they’d headed back to New York. Maybe he’d be better off working again. But that
part of his life was over. Dead and buried. Pain, pointed and heavy, speared his gut. Lena. He closed his eyes, memories of
her smile dancing just beyond his reach, her laughter echoing deep inside him.
Angry at his maudlin turn of thought, he took a sip of coffee, the hot, acrid beverage pulling him firmly back into the present.
The older man was standing now, a smile of joy spreading across his face as a young woman strode through the doorway, arms
extended.
“George,” she cried, throwing herself into his arms. “It’s been so long.”
The two of them moved out of earshot as they walked back to his table, but even without words Tucker could feel her joy. Blonde
in a way that only women in California seemed to be able to achieve, naturally or otherwise, she was tall and lithe, her body
bronzed by the sun, a dimple in her left cheek making her seem even younger. Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, and her hands were in constant motion as she talked. The old man’s face lit up in
her presence, the years seeming to drop away.
Tucker idly wondered at their connection. Father, maybe. Although she’d called him by his first name. He rejected the notion
that they were amorously connected. Neither of them seemed the May-December type. Old friends, then. That much was clear.
He smiled, still watching the two of them, their hands joined together as their voices lowered and the tone of the conversation
turned serious.
Tucker shook his head, wondering when his life had gotten so dull he’d started living vicariously through total strangers.
Next he’d start adopting cats. He cut off a piece of the caramel roll and stuffed it into his mouth.
A burst of synthesized music signaled an incoming call, and he grabbed the cell phone, grateful for the interruption. “Flynn,”
he barked into the phone.
“Same here,” came the answer, a thread of laughter lacing through his brother, Drake’s, voice. “Thought I’d check in and see
how you’re doing.”
“Bored out of my fucking mind,” Tucker said, not making any effort to sugarcoat his words. “I’m at Weatherbees, and I think
I’m turning into Dad.”
“It could be worse,” Drake replied. “You could be turning into our mother.”
“Bite your tongue.” Tucker shifted so he could better see the blonde. “Anyway, what’s up? You don’t usually call to chat.”
She was still waving her hands, but they clearly conveyed anger now. Seemed the joyous reunion had turned sour.
“Hey, can’t a guy check in on his brother?” Drake asked, pulling Tucker’s attention back to his conversation.
“A guy, yes. You, no. You’re not the nurturing type.”
“Well, I sure as hell better be,” his brother mumbled. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’ve got news.” There was a pause,
and Tucker smiled. His brother was never at a lack for words. Except when it had to do with Madeline.
“So, what?” Tucker teased. “Your wife left you?”
“Give me a break,” Drake said. “The woman adores me.”
“That she does,” Tucker admitted, still smiling. Madeline Reynard Flynn was the kind of woman who loved without reservation.
Drake had been lucky to find her. And Tucker was happy to have played a part in it. “So what’s the news?”
“Hang on,” Drake said, fumbling with the phone. “There’s another call. Avery. Be right back.”
The line went dead as his brother took the call from his boss. Tucker felt a stab of envy. He’d sworn he wouldn’t go back
to the life, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the pull of it. There was a rush involved with working black ops, an adrenaline
surge you couldn’t get anywhere else.
He leaned back, phone to his ear, waiting for his brother to return. The blonde was on her feet now, her hands cutting through
the air as she argued with the old man. He was standing too, fists on the table as he tried to make her see reason. Good luck
with that. Tucker recognized the set of her shoulders. She wasn’t about to give in. Whatever had set her off, the old man
wasn’t anywhere close to assuaging her.
“Hey, Tucker, you still there?” Drake asked. “Sorry about that. Company business.”
“So you off to somewhere exciting? Is that the news?” Tucker waited, half listening, as he watched the blonde. With a final snap of her head, she pivoted and stalked from the coffee shop, the old man left standing there, a look of resigned
acceptance coloring his face. Whatever they’d fought about, he hadn’t come out on the winning side.
“No. Well, actually, maybe yes. But that’s not why I called. Madeline just found out she’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father.”
Drake’s words were slow to penetrate, but when they did, Tucker let out a whoop. “Holy shit. That makes me an uncle.”
“Well, not yet. It takes time.”
“Nine months, I believe,” Tucker said. “Anyway, it’s awesome news.” Outside a motor roared to life and the blonde peeled out
of the parking lot. The old man was still standing there, hands on the table, looking as if he’d lost his last hope. “How
far along is she?” Tucker asked.
“Just under two months. We’re actually supposed to wait until after the three-month mark to tell people. But I couldn’t wait.”
“A new generation of Flynns. Definitely something to celebrate.” Across the room the old man sat back down and reached into
his pocket. Tucker nodded as his brother talked, even though he couldn’t actually see him. Despite the importance of his brother’s
news, something was tugging at his brain.
From force of habit he searched the diner, trying to figure out what was bugging him.
“Tucker, are you listening to me?” his brother’s voice broke into his reverie and he shook his head, certain that he was overreacting.
This was Redlands, for God’s sake.
“I’m here. Sorry. Just got distracted for a moment.” He shook his head, chagrined at himself and his voyeuristic tendencies.
“You were talking about due dates.”
“Yeah. I said we want to be sure you’re here when the time comes. Hell, you know I want you up here permanently.”
“What? And turn into a Yankees fan?” Tucker laughed, his eyes still on the old man as he struggled to find something. “Not
fucking likely.”
“Hey, I’m still Angels all the way. You can take a guy out of California…”
… but you can’t take California out of the guy,” Tucker finished for him. It was a catchphrase their dad had always used.
“Well, at least some things don’t change.”
The old man was reaching into his back pocket now, his hands shaking as he struggled to find whatever he was looking for.
Tucker frowned and then blew out a slow breath as he finally figured out what the hell it was that had been bugging him. A
backpack. Underneath the old man’s table. He tried to remember if the blonde had brought it in. But, to be honest, he’d been
too distracted by her honey-colored skin and golden hair to notice. From its positioning, though, he was fairly certain it
didn’t belong to the old man.
“Tucker, what’s going on?” Drake asked, concern coloring his voice. “You’re not pissed because I’m having a baby before you?”
“Yeah, right.” He frowned, forcing himself to ignore his instincts and concentrate on his brother.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, if Lena had…” Drake trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.
“Lived? Yeah, well, even so, neither of us was the childrearing kind. So no worries, little brother.”
“I didn’t mean to—” Drake started, and then stopped.
“I know. And it’s okay. Besides, I’m serious. I’m not cut out to be a father. Hell, maybe not even a husband. Especially not now. Anyway, I’ll leave all that to you and Madeline, and I’ll play the role of doting uncle. That I can do.”
“Yeah, I shudder to think exactly what that’ll mean.”
“The perfect trifecta. Baseball, hot dogs, and beer.” Tucker laughed as the old man finally located his phone and started
to dial. Beneath him the corner of the backpack lit up, blinking red. “Fuck,” Tucker said, his gaze moving to the other patrons
in the diner. “Everybody get down. Now.”
“Tucker?” He heard his brother’s voice as he dove underneath the table, the world around him suddenly splintering into light
and sound, the force of the blast tearing through brick, plaster, and plate glass.
It was over in a moment, the little restaurant suddenly eerily still, debris raining down, sounding almost like rain against
the tabletop. Carefully, Tucker pushed aside the rubble and crawled out from under the table. Sirens wailed in the distance,
a cloud of dust choking him as it descended with the debris. The couple across the way were bloodied, but alive, the boy’s
arm protectively around the girl, his eyes still wide with fear.
“You okay?” Tucker asked.
The boy opened his mouth to reply but nodded instead, words deserting him as he pulled his sobbing girlfriend closer.
The waitress emerged from behind the counter, her arm clutched to her chest, blood snaking down from her shoulder. Like the
couple, her face was ashen. “Lou,” she whispered, her eyes cutting to the floor. “He isn’t breathing.”
Tucker pushed through the rubble to where the businessman had been sitting. Lou. The man was curled in a fetal position on the floor, a piece of sheared glass bisecting his neck. Blood pooled beneath him. Tucker grabbed his wrist,
feeling for a pulse, already knowing the answer. His eyes met the waitress’s, and he shook his head.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“Get them out of here,” Tucker said, motioning to the couple. “The rest of the building could come down at any minute. It’s
not safe.”
The woman hesitated, her eyes still locked on the dead man.
“There’s nothing else you can do for him,” Tucker told her, his voice gentle. “You need to go. Now.”
She acquiesced, and with the help of the boy, the three of them climbed over the broken tables out onto the street.
“Tucker?” Drake’s frantic voice echoed amidst the rubble and Tucker realized he was still holding his cell phone.
“I’m here.”
“Are you okay?” Drake asked.
“I’m fine,” Tucker answered, his eyes on the spot where the old man had been sitting. There was nothing left but rubble. The
booth was gone. Incinerated.
“What the hell happened?”
“Bomb.” Tucker said, his mind going to the moment before the explosion—the backpack, the old man, and his cell phone. “Someone
just blew the fuck out of Weatherbees.”
Alexis Markham stopped pacing long enough to glance out the hotel window. Clouds were gathering on the horizon, a storm descending
from the mountains. On any other day she’d have stopped to drink in the beauty. She’d always loved the mountains. But these
days, more than ever, they only reminded her of everything she’d lost.
And George was trying to take it all away. Again. He was the only family she had left. They might not share blood, but their
bond was still a strong one. George had been there during the worst time of her life. He was the one who’d quite literally
saved her—from the horror, the pain, and eventually even herself. He’d been her touchstone. Her anchor. Even when he was in
prison, they’d found ways to stay in touch. But now—
She clenched her fists, turning her back on the mountains. Now he wanted nothing more to do with her. His words echoed in
her head. “We can’t do this anymore. You’ve got to build a new life. One without me in it.” She’d argued, fought back, pleaded even, but George had been resolute.
So she’d walked out on him. It was modus operandi, even after all this time. Disappear first. Question later.
She crossed her arms over her chest as the canned laughter coming from the TV mocked her. Some sappy family show. Seemed appropriate.
She sank down on the bed, fighting against tears. She hadn’t cried in years. Hell, she hadn’t even known she still could.
Most of her heart had died with her family. Her mom and dad. Her brother. And now George wanted to destroy the only part that
was left.
Angrily, she wiped away the tears. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was no place left in her life for him. After all, she’d
made a place for herself in the world. A shadowy one, to be certain. But without George, her ties to the past were gone.
No one was looking for her, and, thanks to George, no one even knew she existed. Lexie Baker had died in an explosion with
the rest of her family. Alexis Markham had taken her place. Thirteen years was a long time to carry such a burden. Maybe it
was time to let it go. She frowned, sucking in a breath. There’d been something more to what George had been trying to tell
her. He hadn’t just wanted to sever ties; he’d wanted her to create a new identity.
And considering how carefully they’d laid the groundwork for her current existence, that didn’t make sense. Unless someone
else knew who she was. Suddenly nervous, she carefully checked out the room, and then, satisfied that she was safe, at least
for the moment, she reached for her cell.
It wasn’t really hers. Just a throwaway she’d bought for the trip. Never take chances. That was George’s motto. And he’d drilled
it into her head. Nothing that can be traced. Ever. In today’s technology-driven world, it wasn’t always easy. But so far,
at least, she’d managed to stay off the radar. She closed her eyes, calling to mind th. . .
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