72 Hours Read Online Free
Author: Shannon Stacey
his own hand as he raised a gun—Grace’s own weapon—and made the hardest decision he had ever faced.
Ricardo Escobar. Shit.
He rose from the bed and pulled on the drawstring black silk pants balled at the end of the bed. Out of habit, he tucked his Glock into the back of the waistband before he walked out into the main room of the suite. The surveillance equipment was on a side table and he hit the play button.
Remember. Timing is everything.
Alex’s curses drown out the recording. Ricardo Escobar was dead. He’d shot the man himself, straight through the heart, then left him behind in a hotel room going up in flames.
He shuddered, his body trying to shake off the last vestiges of the nightmare, but it did no good. Especially when he hit rewind, then listened again to that voice from the past.
His watch beeped twice, sounding an alarm he no longer needed. She would be here soon, and he wasn’t quite ready to see her.
Hell, he probably wouldn’t ever be ready to see her again. It was hard enough hearing her voice, knowing she didn’t hear his, but rather the voice-altered version which belonged to Sean Devlin. He didn’t want to play out the pretense in person.
Alex lifted the silver cell phone from the table, switching it from ring to vibrate. It looked like any other phone, with the voice engineering program integrated in its circuits, but he couldn’t take the chance of it ringing if she should decide to call up Sean Devlin—a man who didn’t exist, but a man who could talk to her and comfort and support her in a way Alex Rossi couldn’t.
When he’d started the Devlin Group eleven years ago, he’d chosen the identity for one reason—to bait the man who had killed his mother. Little did he know then Sean Devlin would also serve as his only link to the woman who should have been his future.
The knock on the door froze him in place. He had no idea what the hell she wanted, or why she’d called Devlin looking for his location. But she was on the other side of that door. One quick glance through the peephole confirmed it.
Alex watched her jump when he opened the door, her mouth opening in a quick exclamation of surprise.
She looked the same, yet so different. Her mass of chestnut curls was pulled back in a loose clip, and she needed no makeup to enhance those big sapphire eyes.
Her body had changed. Her breasts under the lightweight sweater were a little fuller, as were her hips. No doubt the changes lingered from giving birth to her son, but they didn’t stop the sudden, hot urge to feel her body under his.
If anything, his want was intensified. The lean girl was gone, and in her place was a woman with a body to make a man want to come home at night.
He stepped back, giving her room to enter and close the door. It was only then he realized she was watching him as well. In his pajamas, probably still coated with the sweat of his nightmare, he guessed he probably made an interesting picture.
Alex watched Grace stare at his body, but he didn’t let it get to him. She wasn’t here to play. And she looked like hell.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Grace?” he asked. He made sure the words were slow and lazy, but the back of his neck tingled in warning.
That was fear in her eyes. The list of things that scared Grace Nolan was pretty damn short, and he sure as hell wasn’t on it. So what was?
“What are you doing in Key West?” she asked. Stalling—gearing herself up for something.
Instead of moving toward her, trying to intimidate her as he’d done in the past, he stepped back. He might need some room. For what, he didn’t know, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
“Just a job,” he said. “It’s me, remember? The guy who doesn’t know how not to work?”
“Devlin told you I was coming?”
Alex nodded, hating the lie even more when looking her in the eye. “But not why.”
She took a deep breath, and he noted the slight hitch. “I need
Ricardo Escobar. Shit.
He rose from the bed and pulled on the drawstring black silk pants balled at the end of the bed. Out of habit, he tucked his Glock into the back of the waistband before he walked out into the main room of the suite. The surveillance equipment was on a side table and he hit the play button.
Remember. Timing is everything.
Alex’s curses drown out the recording. Ricardo Escobar was dead. He’d shot the man himself, straight through the heart, then left him behind in a hotel room going up in flames.
He shuddered, his body trying to shake off the last vestiges of the nightmare, but it did no good. Especially when he hit rewind, then listened again to that voice from the past.
His watch beeped twice, sounding an alarm he no longer needed. She would be here soon, and he wasn’t quite ready to see her.
Hell, he probably wouldn’t ever be ready to see her again. It was hard enough hearing her voice, knowing she didn’t hear his, but rather the voice-altered version which belonged to Sean Devlin. He didn’t want to play out the pretense in person.
Alex lifted the silver cell phone from the table, switching it from ring to vibrate. It looked like any other phone, with the voice engineering program integrated in its circuits, but he couldn’t take the chance of it ringing if she should decide to call up Sean Devlin—a man who didn’t exist, but a man who could talk to her and comfort and support her in a way Alex Rossi couldn’t.
When he’d started the Devlin Group eleven years ago, he’d chosen the identity for one reason—to bait the man who had killed his mother. Little did he know then Sean Devlin would also serve as his only link to the woman who should have been his future.
The knock on the door froze him in place. He had no idea what the hell she wanted, or why she’d called Devlin looking for his location. But she was on the other side of that door. One quick glance through the peephole confirmed it.
Alex watched her jump when he opened the door, her mouth opening in a quick exclamation of surprise.
She looked the same, yet so different. Her mass of chestnut curls was pulled back in a loose clip, and she needed no makeup to enhance those big sapphire eyes.
Her body had changed. Her breasts under the lightweight sweater were a little fuller, as were her hips. No doubt the changes lingered from giving birth to her son, but they didn’t stop the sudden, hot urge to feel her body under his.
If anything, his want was intensified. The lean girl was gone, and in her place was a woman with a body to make a man want to come home at night.
He stepped back, giving her room to enter and close the door. It was only then he realized she was watching him as well. In his pajamas, probably still coated with the sweat of his nightmare, he guessed he probably made an interesting picture.
Alex watched Grace stare at his body, but he didn’t let it get to him. She wasn’t here to play. And she looked like hell.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Grace?” he asked. He made sure the words were slow and lazy, but the back of his neck tingled in warning.
That was fear in her eyes. The list of things that scared Grace Nolan was pretty damn short, and he sure as hell wasn’t on it. So what was?
“What are you doing in Key West?” she asked. Stalling—gearing herself up for something.
Instead of moving toward her, trying to intimidate her as he’d done in the past, he stepped back. He might need some room. For what, he didn’t know, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
“Just a job,” he said. “It’s me, remember? The guy who doesn’t know how not to work?”
“Devlin told you I was coming?”
Alex nodded, hating the lie even more when looking her in the eye. “But not why.”
She took a deep breath, and he noted the slight hitch. “I need
Readers choose
Lester del Rey
Stephen Leather
Paula Nicole
Kayla Smith
M. C. Beaton
Madison Johns
Rain Oxford
Sarah Harvey
Brian Darley
Barbara Cartland