Page 42 of Deadly Rescue


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As I prepare to hang up, he says, “Child. Wait.”

“Yes?”

“My senses are telling me that something big is coming.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’ll be in touch, soon, I promise.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The cabin lights slowly rise as the aircraft begins its descent. From the cockpit of our private jet, Sierra says, “Welcome to France.”

Andre yawns and stretches in his seat across the aisle from me. “That was fast.”

“You were out like a light.”

Cole walks past us, toward the front of the plane and slides into the co-pilot seat, leaning over to kiss his pregnant wife on the cheek as he takes his spot.

A stab of jealousy hits me. I’m not the jealous type, so it surprises me.

Cole Strong and Sierra have somehow found the perfect life together, unconventional, but perfect. Of course, the Strong brothers are family kind of men. At least, now they are, after they found their ultimate mates.

I’m apparently not the only one that notices. “Cut out the mushy shit,” grumbles Andre with a half smirk and shake of his head.

Cole looks over his shoulder with a cocky grin on his rugged face.“Kiss my ass, you jealous S.O.B.”

Andre laughs, then glances at me. His expression turns hard, all humor and teasing gone. “We’re going to find your girl.”

I look away. “She’s not my girl. I’d just like to know she’s safe. I don’t think she has anyone other than the Agile Team.”

He crosses one leg over the other. “Tell yourself what you like, she’s yours.”

“Tell that to two point one million people in Paris. Maybe someone will help us find her.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nearly One Month Later

I stretch against the smooth cotton sheets. Unsure of the time. Unsure of the date. Uncertain of the place. But it doesn’t matter.

The low light of morning slips through the curtain and caresses the gentle curve of Simona’s upturned breasts where she’s standing across the room from me. She shifts and smiles at me, softly, teasingly, as she pushes her hair back over her shoulder.

I reach for her, motioning her to the bed. Needing to feel her skin. Taste her kiss. Going mad to drive myself into her.

She takes a step toward me as she skims her hands down over her bare nipples. Then lower, where she lightly touches herself at the teasingly bare vee of her legs.

God. I’m one lucky son of a bitch. Her body is perfection and the way she’s looking at me makes me want to roar.

My mouth is suddenly dry. Starving. Dying for her. I lick across my lips, recalling her sweet feminine flavor as blood rushes toward my instant erection. “Come here, angel.”

Her smile widens as she holds her hand out for me. “Come and get me, big guy.” She breathes the last words as she steps closer, but just out of reach.

A sudden shrill sound jolts me awake.

Simona’s image vanishes and I open my eyes as my heart points. In front of me is nothing but the tan wallpaper of a hotel room wall.

My breath ragged, a stampeding buffalo inside of my chest, I snarl, “Faaak!” As I snatch the phone off the nightstand.

Nearly every night for the last month, the siren Simona has invaded my dreams with her seductive body and her teasing words. Sometimes, on the very same nights, I have nightmares about her dying in my hands in the back of that car.

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