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

  Jess’s gaze narrowed in on his face, watching his eyes, difficult in the encroaching darkness. He faltered, so briefly that if she hadn’t expressly been watching, she’d have missed it.

  Motor oil and sea water mixed in the air as the whup-whup-whup of the helo’s blades faded into the distance.

  Without acknowledging any recognition, the new guy leaned down and grabbed the two extra duffels she and Keisha had brought. He jerked his head toward the door to the bunking quarters. They had several hours until the ship reached the island. It certainly seemed as if he didn’t plan on discussing old times. So that’s how this was going to play out.

  Fine.

  Of course, she looked a little different now. She’d changed her hair color, again. Now she had ribbons of blond and brown and mahogany. When they’d met before she’d had auburn hair. So maybe he really didn’t recognize her.

  Her heart thumped in anticipation as she realized she was about to be a part of her first humanitarian mission. After years of working for the FBI, furthering the agenda of the U.S. government at the expense of her own morals in ethically gray areas, she was finally going to do something good.

  Something worthy.

  No killing involved.

  Jess followed Niles, er, Colin.

  But the niggling doubt that wormed into her consciousness at the exact moment she’d recognized him wouldn’t leave her alone. Uncertainty and apprehension rolled through her.

  What was he doing here? Did her brother know Colin used to be SAS? That was a stupid thought. Sure he did. She was the only employee who wasn’t former military. And she was assuming that Niles…Colin was not still active duty.

  They moved quickly to the covered deck area, the grind of the ship’s engines loud in the small enclosed space. “I’m Jess.” She shoved out her hand and braced for the contact.

  “Colin.” He nodded without touching her.

  “This is my first relief effort.” She volunteered the information hoping for more from him. Skills and training kicked in as she assessed him calmly.

  “Brilliant,” he clipped.

  She remembered him using that exact word when he slid inside her for the first time. Jess’s gaze shot to his, and for a moment, heat and memory blazed, burning his cool gray gaze hot.

  But then the fire extinguished and she was left cold.

  She was even colder when she considered his presence on this boat. What were the odds that he too had grown tired of the increasingly complicated ethics of international politics and government machinations and decided to go humanitarian? At the exact time as she had?

  Pretty damn slim.

  When she’d been pouring out her heart between bouts of sweaty sex, she’d revealed her vulnerability and her uncertainty about her chosen profession. But Niles had done no such thing.

  So what did his presence mean?

  It was a well known fact that most intelligence agencies sent in operatives during relief efforts in order to get the lay of land of unstable countries. Could that be his angle? But then how did he get hooked up with GHR? And did her brother know?

  She had minimal facts about his former occupation. He’d calmly and efficiently defused the bomb in the Tube station when they met previously. He was British. And totally hot in bed. Beyond swooning over his accent while he went down on her, she didn’t know any more details about him.

  They’d been in the right place at the wrong time and almost gotten themselves blown up, but luckily he’d been able to deactivate the explosives before the threatened deadline.

  Jess had been the lookout in the small supply room, rifle trained on the crowd, vigilantly searching for anyone who looked out of place as the British police tried to calmly evacuate the crowded terminal. They’d both known that if something went wrong, they were dead. It had been the most terrifying and the most exciting hours of her life.

  After cleaning up and several debrief interviews, including a mission post mortem, they’d both been nearly dead on their feet when they’d randomly met in the elevator of their hotel. Somehow the smoldering looks that had simmered throughout their time locked in a room with a ticking device had turned into a smoking hot encounter in his hotel room.

  They’d planned to go to dinner, but when Jess met him in the hallway, clad in her sexy LBD that weighed about one ounce and left lots of room for her rifle and ammunition in her suitcase, they had stumbled into his room and never come out. Dinner had been forgotten in a haze of scorching lust.

  Jess certainly couldn’t ask any questions about how he’d gotten from that op to this place. Not until they were alone. No way in hell was she exposing herself, or his past, to perfect Keisha.

  Besides, Jess had no idea what or if Keisha had security clearance. Proper procedure would be to let it go. Their prior mission didn’t have any bearing on this humanitarian one…unless he wasn’t former SAS but had in some way insinuated into the GHR ranks in order to carry out a separate, subversive agenda.

  She wasn’t going to let that happen.

  ***

  Holy shite. He’d had sex with Jack Stone’s little sister.

  When Jack had called to ask for a favor, and requested Colin head this op to keep an eye on his little sister, Colin had said yes in a heartbeat.

  Thanks to a particularly hairy situation in Iraq a few years ago, he owed Jack his life. If Jack hadn’t covered for him, Colin would be six feet under in a miserable desert in an unmarked grave. So when Jack had asked, the answer had been an easy yes. The last few months on the job had been stressful and disheartening. He was getting tired of dealing with the dregs of humanity and defusing their attempts to destroy. It was the perfect time to pay Jack back and Colin needed a break.

  Jack had said in his gravelly ‘I mean business’ voice, “And just so we’re clear. Don’t touch my sister.”

  Colin had figured no problem and replied, “Of course not.”

  He would never in a million years betray his friendship with Jack over a woman. Not to be immodest, but he could get women whenever he wanted, he had no need to tread there. So what if he hadn’t had sex in about six months? Ever since he’d hooked up with a smoking hot FBI agent that he couldn’t seem to get out of his brain, his fantasies, or his dreams. He had figured keeping his hands off Jack’s little sis was a no brainer.

  What were the fucking odds that the FBI agent he couldn’t get off his mind was also Jack’s sister? When they’d met, they hadn’t exactly exchanged life histories. Not even last names. Only extreme sexual pleasure for hours on end. And a few vulnerable moments in the dark.

  His main objective for this mission had been to keep an eye on Jack’s little sis and make sure that the op had no problems so he could relieve his debt to his friend.

  But bugger it all, he hadn’t been able to forget the way they had combusted in that hotel room. At the time he’d written it off to a serious excess of adrenaline and a case of ‘Thank God we’re alive, let’s have sex’ moment.”

  Seeing her again, he had to admit that was a lie. They had exploded faster than PE4 with a high heat detonator. You got to know a person when your lives were on the line and you could be sharing your last moments on earth with them. She had been über-cool under pressure and still managed to crack a few jokes to relieve the tension.

  He had admired her steadiness and calm in the face of possible death. And he’d been attracted to her even before he’d seen her in the hotel elevator. But when she’d arrived for dinner in that excuse for a dress, Colin’s lust had taken over his body and roared through him like an out of control Charing Cross train. The sex had been the best, culminating in the most amazing night of his life. He hadn’t been able to forget her. Now here she was, right in front of him.

  And he couldn’t touch her. He’d promised Jack.

  Four

  20 hours earlier

  She hadn’t been able to get close to Colin Davies. When they disembarked from the ship, he had hit the ground at Mach speed, tersely issuing ord
ers. “Stone, get the manifests for the pallets and double check that we have all our shipments. Sometimes things go missing.”

  Jess had nodded.

  He handed her a clipboard and a heavy backpack. The heat of his body seemed to surround her with a suffocating attraction. To which he seemed oblivious, damn him. Colin said softly, “Here are your supplies. Keep them with you at all times.”

  In training, she’d been warned to keep supplies on her person or they were likely to disappear. And if stuff disappeared, she’d be out of luck. Jess curled her arms through the pack and hefted the weight onto her shoulders. The familiar heaviness of her pack felt suspiciously like the twenty pounds of a Remington M24 SWS with a sound suppressor. Her sniper system of choice. What the hell? It was tempting to look inside right away but since she was deep in the chaos of the relief encampment, she wouldn’t check the contents until she was alone.

  Since this was her first official job with GHR she needed to follow protocol to the letter, and protocol dictated that she keep the contents of her personal backpack private.

  “Johnson, you need to set up a staging area.”

  Keisha was the logistics person, setting up the trucks, distribution sites, and handling everything from the tents erected for the relief workers in the outlying field of the decimated airport, to coordinating with the local military when the roads were passable so that GHR could get the seed packets and water purification tablets in the hands of the inland villagers that needed them.

  He barked out more orders as he split his attention between Jess, Keisha, and the SAT phone practically attached to his ear, and answered just about any question thrown at him. Jess wanted to get him alone for just a few minutes so that she could find out what he was really doing here.

  But after twelve hours on the ground, she wondered if she’d ever be able to get him alone. And she really needed to talk to him about her duties. Although GHR served both the needs of the individual and the overall country, so far they hadn’t done anything but set up.

  For her first time out, Jess was just a worker grunt. She hadn’t had time to train for anything else. She was also backup security, in case the local population got a little too restless while waiting in line for their supplies. Sadly it happened.

  Colin was mainly supposed to be the second prong, the money guy, meeting with the small country’s leader to facilitate transferring the pledged funds into the country’s bank accounts so that the clearing of debris and then re-building of the infrastructure could get started. Although, once that was accomplished, he’d be in the thick of things helping distribute supplies as well.

  After a really long day and no opportunity to speak to Colin, she had finally opened her pack.

  She hated it but she’d been right.

  When she’d gone to inspect the contents of her backpack, the elite sniper rifle stared back at her from the shadowed depths of the bag. This was no crowd control weapon and employee defense tool. This weapon was designed for one thing only.

  Killing.

  A heavy despair settled over her. What had she gotten herself into? And what hadn’t her brother told her? She’d like ten minutes alone in a room with Jack right now. The questions were piling up and she had no one to talk to.

  She had no choice but seek out Colin Davies and find out just what the hell was going on.

  Half an hour later, she approached his tent which served as both his office and his sleeping quarters. The heavy canvas structure was set off to the side, as close to the encroaching woods as it could get without actually being in the trees.

  Jess knocked at the flap and then pushed her way inside.

  The temperature outside had cooled to a sweltering ninety-five degrees. A battery run camp lantern hung over his workspace, giving off a soft glow and turning the atmosphere in the tent intimate.

  Colin sat at his ‘desk’, a flimsy card table, looking no less dangerous or sexy than he had six months ago after he’d diffused the bomb. However, his attitude now came across as uninterested, even bored. As if he were completely unaffected by her presence, as if he hadn’t had his tongue down her throat within hours the first time they’d met.

  “What do you need, Stone?” He signed a paper with a flourish and then looked up from the stack of shipping manifests and worn spiral notepad on the desktop.

  “I need to talk to you about the contents of my backpack.”

  “No, you don’t.” His mouth tightened, his full lips flattening so subtly that she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it as he looked at her without actually looking at her. It was a nifty trick.

  “Uh, yeah, I really do.”

  “I’d advise against it.” He was concentrating on the sheet in front of him and not giving her concerns the time of day. Since she was trained to notice small details she observed that his fingers stayed loose and firm on the pen he held. He wasn’t taking her seriously. And that pissed her off.

  “Don’t freaking patronize me.” Her voice rose.

  In a flash he had shoved back the metal folding chair and circled around the flimsy card table. He stood so close she could feel the heat from his body surround her. Like he was a magnetic tractor beam and she was a cross-section steel, sniper rifle receiver, her body gravitated toward him involuntarily. “This is not the time to raise your voice,” he said almost soundlessly, his words barely audible in the stifling confines of the dark tent.

  God, she really wanted to step back, step away from the blinding attraction that hit her every time she was near him. But she recognized the unspoken words of his body language and she could not afford to show any weakness. She couldn’t let him know how much he affected her. Especially since he seemed completely unaware of her as a woman. So she stayed still, her body far too close to his, and focused on her larger problem. “This is not what I signed up for.”

  If anything he leaned closer. Her heart thudded in her chest and her nipples beaded at the scent of warm, sweaty male and a slight hint of Taylor’s sandalwood and cedar aftershave. “You know your way around the contents, correct?”

  He knew the answer. She’d used the same rifle in London last year.

  “Why do I have a death stick?” she snapped in a soft voice. The privacy in the relief tent village was nonexistent and she sure didn’t want anyone else to hear their discussion about the contents of her bag.

  Before she could blink, Colin wrapped his arms around her and cradled her close.

  One of the things that struck her in London was the overwhelming physical reaction that hit her when they were in the same room. Her pulse slowed, her blood thudded through her veins, pooled in her groin, and tingled in the tips of her fingers. Oddly, the sensations were similar to her physiological responses when she was getting ready to take a shot.

  Adrenaline dumped into her system as he nuzzled the ultra-sensitive spot behind her ear. For anyone observing them through the tent walls, their silhouettes would be highlighted by the lantern and create a completely different impression about what was happening between them. “Not now.”

  Jess pressed away from his embrace before she lost all reason, fighting the instinct to snake her arms around him and put her tongue in his mouth.

  She slung the bag onto the dirt floor at their feet. “When will be a good time?”

  When he didn’t answer, she eyed the SAT phone on his desk. She really needed to talk to someone about this. If he wouldn’t answer, she’d call Jack.

  Colin took note of where her gaze was focused. “Not a chance.”

  Right. She knew that. The odds that satellite communications were being monitored was one hundred percent. “I’m not leaving this tent until I get some answers.”

  He released her waistband and flexed his hands then curled them into fists, as if trying to resist touching her again. But they were still so close their bodies brushed with each inhale and exhale of breath. The temperature in the small tent ramped up about a thousand degrees. Her nipples tightened and her sex softened.

&
nbsp; God, she was trying to resist the siren lure of lust that dumped into her system with the proximity of his mouth. He rubbed his nose along the shell of her ear and his breath puffed erotically against her skin, the actions completely at odds with his next words. “They just confirmed the first deaths from cholera.”

  She couldn’t think. She swayed toward him, and wondered what cholera had to do with the way her blood buzzed and her breath shortened.

  Colin stepped back, the loss of his body heat like an ice bath. She swore she had felt his lips against her hair. But in a back to business manner, he pulled out his smart phone, sifted through pictures until he found the one he wanted. Then he held the phone close to her so she could see.

  Jess stared at the picture. Henri LeRoy, the president of the small island country, was…taking a bath? Her brain could not make the connection between the picture and the contents of her backpack.

  This was grounds for the Global Humanitarian Relief, and her brother, to give her a sniper rifle?

  She blinked, looked up at Colin, trying to ignore the raging attraction that wasn’t going away no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. He was practically dead on his feet, the shadows under his eyes should have detracted from his physical presence but instead his body still screamed sex on a stick. She wondered if he’d look that worn out after spending a weekend in bed on six hundred thread count sheets and living off room service.

  “That bath water is bottled.” His words were so soft she had to lean closer, and was sucked into a vortex of arousal so strong, it took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in.

  The country was drowning in sewage. Their infrastructure destroyed. No running water. Tent cities. Starvation. Limited medical supplies and personnel. A shortage of water purification tablets. Clean water tanker trucks couldn’t get to outlying areas because the roads needed to be cleared of rubble or were simply so damaged they ceased to exist any more.