Sweet Revenge Read online

  It was all Dylan could do to keep his hands from shaking as he ran them up and down Jamie’s soft, slender body. His heart had been in his throat when she’d fallen; now he was putting himself through more hell by touching her. Dammit, where was that iron control he used to pride himself on?

  “Dylan?”

  As Jamie’s soft voice pulled him from his crazy, reckless thoughts, he moved his gaze to her face. And lost his battle. Her eyes were heated, filled with a want that echoed within him. With a groan of surrender, he lowered his head and took her mouth. He softly teased her lips, her taste sweeter than every fantasy he’d ever had. When he felt her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer, he licked at her lips, seeking a sweeter, deeper taste. The opening of her mouth took his breath. There was no hesitancy in her actions. Her tongue met and dueled with his, drawing at him.

  Lowering his body over hers, careful of his weight, he propped himself on his arms, allowing only his lips to touch her. Angling his mouth, he pressed deeper, withdrew, and plunged again. Thrusting and retreating, over and over, mimicking the motion for what another part of him ached to do.

  Soft, insistent hands tugged at him, pulled him closer. Dylan lowered himself until he lay on top of her. Still mindful of his big body over her much smaller one, he tried to keep most of his weight off her. Jamie was having none of it. Pulling him harder, she spread her legs and allowed him to settle between them. Dylan nudged his erection against her mound. They groaned into each other’s mouths at the delicious contact.

  Warm, soft hands moved beneath his shirt. Needing the same contact, Dylan slid a hand under her sweatshirt and felt the soft, supple skin he’d dreamed about for months. Silky and firm, she was every man’s fantasy … and Dylan’s only dream.

  A dream that couldn’t come true.

  Sweet Revenge is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original

  Copyright © 2011 by Christy Reece

  Excerpt from Sweet Reward copyright © 2011 by Christy Reece

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  BALLANTINE and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Sweet Reward by Christy Reece. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-52406-5

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Cover illustration: Tony Mauro

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Excerpt from Sweet Reward

  Other Books by This Author

  prologue

  Bustarviejo, Spain

  The night was silent and still. The air, thick and humid, held a feeling of expectancy—as if aware that rescue had finally arrived. Stooped behind a low brick wall, his eyes narrowed into a squint behind powerful binoculars, LCR operative Dylan Savage surveyed the perimeter of the massive property owned by Stanford Reddington.

  The house in front of him held Jamie Kendrick—a young woman who’d been abducted by a maniac and then sold to Stanford Reddington. Purchased for what purpose, Dylan didn’t even want to consider. Their mission was clear: rescue. Their plan: a soft entry. Grab Jamie and get the hell out, hopefully without firing a shot.

  “Everyone in place and ready?” Noah McCall asked quietly. The Last Chance Rescue leader kept his voice calm and low, his tone revealing none of the tension Dylan knew he must feel.

  On missions, McCall acted as though ice ran through his veins. That was an attitude Dylan had adopted long before he’d joined LCR. Never let them see you flinch. He’d learned that lesson as a child. Staying expressionless had saved his ass more than once.

  Dylan answered with a soft “Ready.”

  Adrenaline surged as the three other people on the op answered in the affirmative. Any second now …

  “Go,” McCall whispered.

  Staying low, Dylan and McCall ran toward the back door that their informant, Raphael, had promised would be unlocked. Noah eased the door open … Dylan peered inside. Scanning the large kitchen, he briefly noted that not only did the room look like a pigsty, it stank of old food and stale alcohol. The messy space had one thing in its favor: no people.

  Dylan entered first, McCall behind him. Dim light filtered from a greasy bulb over the stove revealed the remains of last night’s dinner and four dirty plates on the counter. Four here, including Jamie?

  In the middle of the kitchen, the men stopped … waited … listened. On cue, a loud, thudding knock sounded at the front door. A moment of dead silence, then lights came on as someone stomped toward the door. The instant the front door opened, Dylan and McCall moved.

  Guns at the ready, their steps silent, they made their way to the next room. At the entrance to the living room, McCall went in one direction, Dylan the other. Sticking his head into a small den and a bathroom, Dylan found nothing other than furniture and more evidence that slobs lived here.

  One minute later, they met in the middle of the living room. The loud protestations coming from the front of the house reassured them that the home owner would be occupied for several more moments.

  His black eyes glittering with cold determination, McCall mouthed silently, “Anything?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  Both men turned and headed up the stairway. Halting at the top of the stairs, they assessed the area. Bright lights from the first floor allowed them to see three rooms to check on this floor. McCall jerked his head at the stairs to the third floor.

  With a quick nod, Dylan headed upstairs. At the top of the small landing, he stopped and listened. The only sounds were the distant mumblings of Reddington as he argued with the Spanish police. Two rooms to check here. The door to one of the rooms stood open. Easing his head in, he looked around. A storage room, filled with furniture and boxes.

  Swiftly, silently, Dylan moved across the hallway, toward the closed door of the other room. His ear to the wood, he listened and heard a soft, trembling sigh.

  He put his hand on the doorknob. Locked. Pulling a small tool from the belt at his waist, he inserted it into the keyhole. At the sweet sound of a click, he twisted the knob, eased the door open, and stepped inside. The room, midnight dark and deathly quiet, held the musky scent of sour sweat and felt heavy with fear, confirming what he already knew: she was here.

  The softest whi
sper of sound put him on alert; half a second later, a small body leaped onto his back. Not wanting to hurt or frighten her further, Dylan dropped to the floor with Jamie Kendrick hanging on to his shoulders.

  She ground her knee into the small of his back and spoke in a harsh, raspy voice, “Touch me and I’ll kill you.”

  Admiration and compassion slammed into him. She was tough. Good. She would need to stay that way. “I’m here to rescue you, Jamie.”

  With a soft, laughing sob, she said mockingly, “Yeah, my knight in shining armor.”

  “I’m with Last Chance Rescue.”

  After a long pause, she whispered hoarsely, “What’s that?”

  “A rescue organization.”

  Another long pause. Finally, a shaky, tear-filled voice asked, “Are you for real?”

  “Yes.” He waited two heartbeats, giving her time to absorb the information. Then, since time was of the essence, he said, “We need to get out of here.”

  Her slight weight eased off his back, and he felt her shift away from him.

  Getting to his feet, Dylan took a flashlight from his utility belt and clicked it on. His heart thudded and crashed as he got his first glimpse of slender, petite Jamie Kendrick. Perched on the edge of a bed, she’d snagged a sheet to cover herself. Untamed, golden-brown hair draped over her bare shoulders. Gray-blue eyes shimmered with tears; white teeth bit at her lips as if to control their trembling. The thin sheet covering her nude body couldn’t hide her uncontrollable shaking. Despite his reassurance, she was terrified that this was a trick.

  “Found her,” he whispered softly into his mic.

  “Get her out,” McCall answered softly. “Reddington’s still at the door, arguing. I’ve got one bastard down, two more on the run.”

  “Affirmative,” Dylan answered.

  There was no time for more reassurance. They needed to get their asses out of here … now. He took a step toward her. “Let’s go.”

  She lifted a hand to tighten the sheet around her, and he saw the handcuff dangling from her wrist. Pulling a standard key from his belt, he reached for her. Admiration grew in him as he watched her stiffen but refuse to back away. He unlocked the cuff from her bruised, raw wrist and then let her go. The last thing she probably wanted was for a man to touch her. Unfortunately, he was going to have to do more than just touch her if they were to get out of here in one piece.

  With a sweep of his flashlight over the room, Dylan took another quick scan. No clothing. He pulled his black cotton T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. “Put this on.” Giving her a brief moment of privacy, he went to the door to peer out. Still quiet.

  At the sound of a small, relieved sigh, he glanced over his shoulder. She was ready. Her feet were bare, and her body swayed as she tried to stand. The T-shirt swallowed her, landing just above her wobbling knees.

  “It’ll be easier for both of us if you let me carry you out.” He wasn’t asking for permission, but he didn’t want to scare her by just lifting her without warning.

  “I can walk.”

  “You’re barefoot and weak. We need to get out of here as fast as we can.” Giving her no time to argue, Dylan reached for her and scooped her into his arms. Her body was shaking with terror, but she didn’t fight him, and that was all he needed.

  He made a rapid exit from the room and strode quickly toward the stairway. As they got halfway down the stairs, the distant blast of gunfire ramped up the tension. Shit! No way was he not getting her out of here alive. Holding her tighter against his chest, he whispered, “Hang on, sweetheart.”

  Lowering his head, Dylan ran like hell.

  One month later

  Charles de Gaulle Airport

  Paris, France

  “Ladies and gentlemen, flight 231 to Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A., will begin loading in ten minutes.”

  A bright, sunny smile plastered on her face, Jamie turned to her sister, McKenna. This stiff-upper-lip thing was a lot harder than she’d thought it would be. This wasn’t goodbye forever, but still … “I’ll see you soon again … I promise.”

  McKenna’s face, so similar to Jamie’s, revealed the same turmoil. “You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you? It’s not too late for me to buy a ticket.”

  The lump grew in Jamie’s throat at the offer. McKenna’s anxiousness was sweet but unnecessary. She wasn’t nervous or worried. After everything that had happened the last few months, she felt insulated from the trivial stuff. And she’d been given a miracle: her sister. Her biggest concern was being separated from McKenna again.

  “I’ll be fine. I just want to get this behind me so I can move forward.”

  “Will you have to see him?”

  Funny, even the thought of seeing her ex-husband again didn’t cause the thud of dread it once had. “I don’t think so. My attorney assured me I’d just need to appear before a judge.”

  “You know I’ll be there for you if you need me. Right?”

  Jamie hugged McKenna again. After her rescue, they’d spent almost a month together and had gotten even closer than they’d been as kids. Having both survived their own hell, being together again made them appreciate each other so much more.

  She pulled away and smiled through her tears. “You need to go see Lucas.”

  At the mention of Lucas Kane, a breathtaking expression came over McKenna’s face. Never had Jamie seen anyone more in love. And just from the short amount of time Jamie had spent with Lucas, she knew he felt the same way. Other than her parents, she had never known a couple who loved each other like that.

  “You promise to come back to Europe soon?”

  “Cross my heart. And if not, you can always come see me.” She gripped McKenna’s hand and held tight. “We’ll never let each other go again.”

  Tears sparkling in her eyes, McKenna nodded fiercely. “Never. I promise.”

  “Jamie? McKenna?”

  They both whirled around at the sound of the familiar masculine voice approaching them. A gasp escaped Jamie before she could stop it. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again, and yet here he was. Dylan.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” McKenna asked.

  “I heard Jamie was headed back to the States. I’ve got some business to take care of there, so I thought I’d tag along.” His emerald gaze turned to Jamie. “That okay with you?”

  It had been almost a month since she’d seen him. Dylan had been the one to carry her out of that house, the one to rescue her from hell.

  Her rescue had been as dramatic as any television drama, with Dylan and the other LCR operatives swooping down in the dead of night and rescuing her from Stanford Reddington and his vile son. Jamie barely remembered the event other than Dylan’s gruff, reassuring voice, his strong arms carrying her out of the house, and him saying, “You’re safe now, Jamie” as he handed her over to the EMTs.

  Then she’d been lifted into a helicopter and taken to the hospital. She’d gone from abject misery and terror to comfort and safety in a matter of seconds. And she had thought Dylan was the most wonderful of heroes.

  For the first couple of days after her rescue, he’d been kind and wonderfully attentive. Then something had happened, and for the life of her, she didn’t know what. The day of her release from the hospital, Dylan had turned noticeably cooler. She’d tried to tell herself she was just imagining it, but when he’d given her a barely perceptible nod after she’d thanked him once more for her rescue, she had known it wasn’t her imagination.

  Those words of thanks were the last ones she’d thought she’d ever get to say to him, and now here he was, going to the States with her.

  Realizing that both McKenna and Dylan were looking at her strangely, Jamie knew a deep blush covered her fair skin as she stammered, “Yes … of course, that’s okay with me.”

  “Ladies and gentleman, flight 231 to Atlanta is now boarding.”

  As the airline personnel gave boarding instructions, Jamie forgot everything other than the knowledge th
at she was saying goodbye to her sister. Throwing her arms around McKenna’s neck, she whispered in her ear. “I love you, Kenna.”

  Her voice thick with emotion, McKenna answered softly, “I love you, too. See you soon. Okay?”

  Unable to speak for the giant lump in her throat, Jamie nodded and tightened her arms around her sister one last time … then made herself let go. McKenna didn’t need to see the uncertainty and dread that had suddenly swamped her. After everything she’d been through, what was there to fear?

  McKenna’s eyes glittered with emotion. “Call me as soon as you land. Okay?”

  She nodded again. “I will.”

  She wasn’t surprised to see McKenna hug Dylan—he seemed to have an affectionate rapport with her sister. Something that was sadly missing with her.

  With her carry-on gripped tightly in her hand, Jamie headed to the ticket agent. At the door, she turned back for one last glance. McKenna waved and blew a kiss. Jamie gave her the best smile she could muster and turned to walk down the narrow tunnel to the plane.

  “Want me to take your bag?”

  Despite the massive willpower she thought she had, tears were flooding her eyes. Not looking at Dylan, she shook her head.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just hate saying goodbye.” She straightened her shoulders, determined to get past her weepiness. “Where are you sitting?”

  “First class, row two, seat A.”

  Startled, she jerked her head up. “I’m in row two, seat B. How’d you manage that?”

  He shrugged as if it was nothing and stopped at the entrance to the plane, allowing her to go first. As she passed by him, his closed expression told her he wasn’t going to explain anything. Not why he’d arranged to sit with her, and probably not why he’d just shown up, out of the blue, to travel with her. Telling herself she didn’t need an explanation, Jamie settled into her seat and watched as the most handsome and infuriatingly mysterious man she’d ever known dropped into the seat next to hers.