Family Stone Holiday Box Set: (including Stone Cold Heart, Carved in Stone, and Heart of Stone) (Family Stone Romantic Suspense) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Family Stone Holiday Box Set

  Copyright

  Stone Cold Heart

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Carved in Stone

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Heart of Stone

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  RILEY’S RULES

  Books by Lisa Hughey

  About Lisa

  Excerpt from Still the One

  Family Stone Holiday Box Set

  Includes

  Stone Cold Heart (Family Stone #1 Jess)

  Carved in Stone (Family Stone #2 Connor)

  Heart of Stone (Family Stone #3 Riley)

  Copyright

  Lisa Hughey

  Stone Cold Heart

  December 2013

  ISBN: 978-0-9840428-6-9

  Lisa Hughey

  Carved in Stone

  December 2013

  ISBN: 978-0-9840428-7-6

  Lisa Hughey

  Heart of Stone

  January 2014

  ISBN: 978-0-9840428-8-3

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written consent from the author/publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Stone Cold Heart

  In the early evening dusk, Jess Stone lay on her stomach in the twenty foot high rubble of a demolished church, underneath a black and gray city-scape tarp intended to camouflage her position. A sharp-edged chunk of debris dug into her lower rib cage, the scope of the Remington M24 cool and familiar against her face.

  Her standard uniform of jeans, running shoes, and plain black t-shirt rendered her just another anonymous and transient relief worker…which she was actually. A black baseball cap hid her distinctive multi-hued blonde hair. The paper mask kept out the contaminated dust from the destroyed buildings but did little to stem the overwhelming stench of decaying bodies.

  Tanks rumbled through the destroyed coastal town, their public address system blasting warnings for citizens to stay in their homes, curfew was in effect. The threat was a joke. Ninety percent of the people in the town didn’t have homes left. Those who did were terrified to go back inside. In the fetid, humidity choked air, the tent cities erected in the parks and on the beach were seething masses of the injured and shock struck.

  The substandard construction in the small country had never been enough to withstand the angry might of Mother Nature. Buildings had toppled like a stack of Tinkertoys, and left crumbling cement walls with twisted rebar poking out of the jagged ruins like a skeletal hand.

  Trapped in the concrete pieces that littered the ground, the heat from the tropical day seared through her thin sturdy clothing. The stank of the raw sewage that ran in rivulets through the streets overpowered the salt-laden breeze off the ocean. People, covered with the grit of pulverized buildings and humans, shuffled along with blank vacant stares. Two weeks after the quake, still in shock, their lives decimated first by nature and then kicked and beaten by the ineffectiveness of a flawed relief system. Hundreds of humanitarian agencies had descended on the population duplicating efforts and yet completely missing the need in other areas. The government was ostensibly trying to coordinate the effort, however the mass chaos was undeniable.

  Through the Leupold Ultra M3 fixed power sight, she tracked the movements of Henri LeRoy, leader of this tiny island nation, violator of human rights and dignity, and all around poor excuse for a human being.

  Sickness roiled in her stomach. The power bar she’d eaten for breakfast threatened to add to the rubble pile as she tried to figure out how in the hell she’d ended up here. Back behind a sniper rifle with the power over life and death trembling in the muscles of her right trigger finger.

  Dammit. When she’d decided to take control of her life and quit the FBI, she hadn’t wanted to do this any more.

  She’d wanted to be a simple relief worker. She’d wanted to connect with her family, brothers and mother.

  But that bitch, fate, had slapped her upside the head and now here she was, where she’d sworn she never wanted to be again. Looking through the scope of a high-powered rifle, with a crystal clear head shot and a murky sense of right and wrong.

  With little fanfare, she could blast LeRoy’s brain matter all over the silk-covered walls and the antique Louis the XIV scrolled chairs in the receiving room of his ridiculously elegant weekend mansion which, since built properly, had sustained minimal damage. Her muscles twitched with the knowledge and acceptance that with one slow slide of her finger, the despotic, amoral leader would be history.

  Jess didn’t want to kill him, didn’t want to be directly responsible for another death. She didn’t want this choice. She’d given up this kind of life. She’d left the FBI after a series of high stress cases to get away from the doubt and guilt that had crippled her. To make her own decisions about right and wrong rather than carry out the commands of her bosses.

  But if Henri LeRoy lived, chances were astronomical that many other citizens would die.

  And yeah, she’d probably been manipulated into this. Actually no probably about it. Assassination had not been listed as one of her duties when she’d joined Global Humanitarian Relief. Damn her brother anyway.

  But now all she could do was lay here in the desecrated remains of the former church and hope that her special skill set wouldn’t be needed.

  Fortunately, she was secondary backup.

  And unless several things went horribly wrong, she would break down her weapon, get back to the relief aid encampment, back to actually helping people, and be out of here without ever firing her rifle.

  Then she could hand out seed packets to her heart’s content and figure out what she was going to do next. If she’d stay with GHR and her brothers, or go. First, she had to get through the next two hours.

  But if something did go wrong…she prayed that if she was called upon, she could make the right decision. Make the shot. Cold zero.

  Two

  60 hours earlier

  “Are your shots up to date?”

  No hello. Jack Stone, Jess’s oldest half-brother and more importantly her new boss, was direct and to the point. And she knew better than to interrupt his train of thought. “Yes.” She’d had her round of standard inoculations, Tdap, MMR and Hep A & B, including vaccinations for malaria, tuberculosis, and cholera, a month ago.

  “My office. Now.”

  Jess was finally going to get to go into the field. Her heart rate picked up and anticipation zoomed through her body as she mentally reviewed possibilities. But, with
his sense of urgency, there was only one logical destination. She was going to Port-du-Bois in the Caribbean. Finally, she was going to get to do some good. Adrenaline flooded her body like a welcome and familiar drug, the buzz nearly making her light headed.

  Jack twirled his finger, indicating she should close the door. “Time is critical”

  Keisha Johnson, her least favorite employee and sometimes nemesis at the Global Humanitarian Relief headquarters in Monterey, sat in the other chair. Jess didn’t even know why the woman didn’t like her but she knew she didn’t. And the feeling was mutual. Something about Keisha rubbed her the wrong way. Jess thought she might have a thing for Jack, but since Jack was her brother, she couldn’t come up with any reason that Keisha would be threatened by her. After all, Keisha knew that Jack was her brother. Keisha was in her early thirties, with kinky black hair, mocha skin, striking hazel eyes, but more importantly she had a killer brain. And an attitude the size of the Pacific Ocean.

  Dressed in faded camo pants and a tight army green t-shirt, her youngest brother Connor leaned against the credenza behind Jack’s desk arms crossed over his impressive chest.

  Jess’s heart sunk a little. She wasn’t Connor’s favorite person. Never had been. He’d never come out and said it but she knew that he resented her. He’d been the baby of the house until she and her mother had come to live with them when Jess and Connor had been eight. Their relationship had always been a bit strained. But with the chip he had on his shoulder, his relationship with everyone was a bit strained. Although it seemed like lately he’d been making an effort to move beyond it.

  Her pleasure dimmed. She’d been hoping her first mission wouldn’t involve Connor. But she’d get over it.

  The door swung open and her middle brother, Riley, sauntered in looking like James Bond right before he hit the baccarat tables. Smoothly shaven jaw, sharp cheekbones, and eyes the color of Ireland’s green grass, Riley could charm the pants off the even the most virulent of man haters. It was a gift. He didn’t just charm though, Riley was the consummate protector and he truly loved women. His charm was genuine and heartfelt no matter the woman’s age, looks, or disposition.

  Jess’s spirits lifted. Maybe she’d be going with Riley. Except, based on his beautifully tailored suit and designer tie, he didn’t appear ready to hit an earthquake-ravaged country.

  Ava Sanchez, Jack’s sweet and gorgeous assistant, began to close the door gently. Her gaze swept the room, skipped over Riley and cast a fleeting, longing look at Connor, before carefully averting her attention. Huh.

  “Now that we’re all here,” Jack said gruffly. Jack had been her hero since the day she and her mother had moved into their father’s mansion on Seventeen Mile Drive and he’d picked her up and given her a welcoming hug and a giant smile. Jess’s heart flooded with love for her half-brother, who had convinced her to come work for GHR, overly responsible for taking care of the world or at least his little corner of it. “Let’s get started.”

  Keisha dismissed Jess, and cut her gaze back to her phone before focusing back on their boss.

  Jess had spent the last several months learning the ins and outs and logistics of humanitarian aid relief. A far cry from her work as an elite sniper for the FBI, when she’d prepped for targeted killings, a fancy, legally-sanctioned term for assassinations, but she had voluntarily retired from her prior employment.

  When Jack had requested that she come work at his company, she’d thought long and hard about the offer. As a child, she never quite fit in. She came to live with them late. She was a girl to their rough boys. Sometimes she wondered if she were incapable of more meaningful connections. As if her heart was stone cold and unable to warm. Except she loved her mother, she adored her big brothers, Jack and Riley. Hell, she even loved Connor. But she’d still felt like that kid staring in the window longingly.

  The same thing occurred at the FBI. She was a woman, plenty of those, but women snipers were still rather rare, and she never quite fit in. So after careful consideration, she made the choice to go after what she wanted.

  She was going to connect with her brothers, maybe even Connor. And now she was going to be doing good. Not killing people. And she was thrilled.

  If she missed that heady rush of adrenaline, the positives of her new situation outweighed the negatives. The logistics of surveillance, the mental calculations of vantage points, line of sight, and wind velocity, the unknowns of security and extraction, were behind her now. And while she had an occasional niggle of regret because she missed the heart pounding anticipation and rush, she was beyond happy to be helping control chaos, not inciting it.

  She wasn’t going to lie though. Being in the office, rather than in the field, had been a huge change of pace. She was ready for some action.

  “You’re going to Port-du-Bois.” He tossed pictures across his desk.

  Hot damn, she’d been right. Adrenaline fluttered through her blood, lighting her up like a familiar friend. She just knew that helping the people of the disaster-ravaged island would give her the same rush as she’d experienced in her previous law enforcement life. Hopefully.

  Port-du-Bois. The tiny Caribbean island nation had been decimated by an earthquake two weeks ago.

  GHR had been monitoring the situation there since the disaster occurred.

  “What’s the plan?” Keisha, already thumbing coded notes into her smart phone, got right to the point. She was an efficient bitch. Jess would give her that.

  “You’ve got four hours before you go wheels up.”

  Four hours wasn’t much time.

  But Jess’s ‘go bag’ had been packed since her first week on the job. At a moment’s notice, she was ready to go save the world from itself. God, she couldn’t wait.

  “Cover?” Keisha asked.

  Cover? Jess hadn’t been with Global Humanitarian Relief long, but why would they need a cover?

  Jack shot Keisha a pointed look, then turned to Jess.

  “You’re a relief grunt, and security detail, which gives you permission to carry under the island military restrictions.” Jack addressed Jess, “The situation is unstable enough that I want you armed and ready to protect.”

  Guns. It wasn’t that she minded. Hell she’d spent the first six years of her career shooting weapons regularly.

  When she interviewed for this job she had known her weapons experience was a plus. Everyone else in the company, except Ava, was former military. But still it was on the tip of her tongue to resist until her brother spoke as if knowing that her gut reaction was to argue. “We aren’t the fucking Red Cross and I refuse to leave my people unprotected.”

  For a moment, shadows flickered in his stippled hazel gaze before he cut back to Keisha. “You’ll be coordinating seed and water purification tablet distribution. The boxed supplies are on shrink-wrapped pallets and already on their way.” The slow measured look he gave Keisha seemed to indicate something more weighty.

  Jess paused at the silent communication between them, and a frisson of unease overshadowed her excitement. When Jack spoke again, her worries scattered.

  “Our primary logistics coordinator will be a temporary guy, Colin Davies.”

  Connor shot a surprised glance at Jack. “Not one of us?”

  Jack had the grace to blush. “It isn’t a good idea for any former military Stone brothers to be in Port-du-Bois.”

  Connor’s eyebrows rose and he gave a short nod.

  “Colin is meeting you en route.” Jack aimed a remote at the television in the corner and turned up the sound. “He’s already been briefed.”

  Temporary guy? Who was Colin Davies? And why hadn’t she ever met him? And how did a new guy get in charge over Keisha? However, Keisha didn’t look pissed. Surprising.

  “Once you get on island, he’ll assess the situation and give you orders,” Jack said. “And you’ll follow.”

  Keisha was frowning as if she’d like to argue about something.

  “Are you sure she’s ready?
” If it had been anyone but Riley asking, it would have likely gotten Jess’s back up, but she knew he didn’t doubt her abilities, he just wanted to make sure she would be safe.

  “She’s ready.” Jack aimed another slow measuring look, this time at Jess. The shadows in the swirls of his green and gold eyes, which changed colors depending on his mood, seemed vaguely threatening. Threatening? She was imagining things.

  Jack finally said, “We need her.”

  Both Connor and Riley tensed subtly. Not wanting to jeopardize her opportunity, Jess nodded confidently. But inside she wondered…what had that little flicker been all about? What wasn’t he telling her?

  Three

  42 hours earlier

  The chopper’s rotor blades swirled, trying to suck her into the updraft, as the Sikorsky SH-3 Sea-King flown by the U.S. Marine Corps lifted up and away. Jess was surprised GHR had been able to use military resources to get them onto this ship but she wasn’t about to ask Keisha how GHR made that happen. She’d save that question for her big brother when she got home.

  The ship’s engines ground beneath her feet with a subtle chug and her stomach let her know she wasn’t on land. Beside Jess, Keisha staggered and nearly fell. Not so perfect. As Jess managed to keep her sea legs, a little zing of triumph zipped through her.

  Spotlights illuminated the LZ in blinding relief and cast the surrounding deck in darkness. A shadow detached from the murky side of the command tower. The silhouette was male. A little over six feet, lean, graceful, with something familiar in his movement as he sauntered toward them.

  The glow from the landing pad bled over his features as he drew near. And when his face was revealed, her brain processed details. The arch of his brow, the almost aristocratic cheekbones, the sensual lips and windswept light brown hair. She’d barely slept in the last thirty hours which is why her brain didn’t make the leap at first. But…she knew this guy.

  Intimately.

  His name hadn’t been Colin when she’d had sex with him. It had been Niles. A stuffy name for a very not stuffy guy. Of course, they hadn’t exchanged last names so he likely didn’t know her last name was Stone. The sex had been smoking hot and a little too intimate for her comfort.

  As a result, the last time she’d seen him, she’d been sneaking out of his hotel room at five in the morning, in a very small, very clingy little black dress, shoes dangling from two fingertips, after a particularly stressful op had almost gone totally south. As in dead south.