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Authors: Gemma Hart

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BOOK: Risky Temptation
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              I felt a small kiss behind my ear. “I love you,” Marco whispered back.

 

              And together, we fell off into a peaceful sleep that only comes from knowing that everything you hold dear is within arms reach.

 

***

 

              It still blows my mind how different life is now. And yet, how normal it all feels.

 

              Mentally, I had celebrated our six month anniversary since coming to Europe.

 

              It had been six months since we had flown to Germany that wild and adrenaline fueled night. I had hardly had time to collect my wits, let alone any of my belongings, before Marco had whisked me off in a private plane from LA to Germany where he had had a whole life ready for us.

 

              I had thought for sure that something bad would happen to us within the first few weeks. The other shoe would drop. Surely. I just couldn’t imagine us getting away that easily.

 

              So even in France, when we holidayed together with Jamie, Marco’s brother, I was sure that something would happen. Every corner we turned, every avenue we strolled, I was always on the look out for men in coats, ready to turn us in to whoever—Interpol, FBI, maybe even the CIA.

 

              But nothing happened.

 

              We were able to live our lives comfortably and peacefully, thanks in large part to Marco’s careful and meticulous planning. Having bought a string of plants in Germany that made a special kind of necessary microchip for computers, he had ensured himself a ‘modest’ income.

 

              It was funny to even think that the plants’ income was modest but that was how Marco had described it to me.

 

              When I had expressed my concerns on how we would now live as fugitives on the run, he explained the fake passports and the German plants. “They’ll bring in enough for us to live on,” he explained. “And to take care of Jamie. But it’s not comparable to the Desmond fortune.” He gave me a look as if warning me not to get my expectations too high.

 

              If anyone was high,
he
was. I had
no
expectations. I was literally expecting to be arrested! Who could worry about how much of a fortune we did or didn’t have when we could potentially be thrown into a cell at any moment?

 

              But it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about our fortune because ‘modest’ for a son of Roy Desmond meant a few tens of million per year. A pittance compared to the hundreds of millions the Desmond empire had brought in yearly.

 

              And with both of us eager to settle into some kind of normal routine, we kept our heads low and our lives quiet. We moved to London to be closer to Jamie.

 

              We were able to buy a lovely house in Chelsea that confirmed all of my childhood ideas of beautiful Victorian homes with stately parks and streets. And slowly but surely, we began to fall into a routine.

 

              Marco worked remotely from London with the plant manager in Germany to make sure that things were working smoothly. Using the profits from the plants, he eventually began to invest carefully in safer funds to give us a good solid foundation for our future.

 

              I began to explore London with less paranoia about Interpol or FBI agents. I fell in love with the city immediately, feeling right at home in the hustle and bustle of the large crowds. I met with Jamie often and had lunch together. We would have dinner together, all three of us, nearly every week. So much so that Jamie eventually complained and teased Marco saying we were cramping his style at school.

 

              It was remarkable how easily I fell into the rhythm of this new life. It almost felt normal.

 

              The FBI, the botched mission, Agents Hadfield and Truman, Roy Desmond…they all seemed so far away. Memories of them would only come to me in sporadic nightmares but Marco was always there to soothe me back to sleep, reassuring me that in his arms, no one could touch me.

 

              It was kind of thrilling and scary to think that perhaps I had actually found my happily ever after. It felt so impossible for someone like me and Marco—a former FBI agent now gone rogue and a former mafia head and dangerous hitman. Yet every day, I woke up feeling like I was living the absolute dream.

 

              Perhaps I had actually found it, my happy ending. And maybe it was time I began to truly embrace it.

 

              After all, of all people, Marco and I knew very well the value of time and especially the value of time spent with loved ones. I shouldn’t be wasting any of it by quibbling over details or stressing over what-ifs. I needed to live in the moment.

 

              And that’s what I would do.

 

              Because in Marco’s embrace, there truly
was
a happily ever after waiting for me.

Chapter
Two
Marco

              “Do they not feed you at that school?” I asked, mildly stunned as I watched my brother literally inhale his entire meal.

 

              We were at a pub nearby his university and as usual, Jamie had gone ahead and ordered the entire left side of the menu. There was shepherd’s pie, steak and ale pie, fish and chips, pudding, roast sandwiches, and a discarded and forgotten salad that had clearly been ordered by mistake.

 

              Jamie shrugged, his mouth bulging with various bites of all the dishes. “Can’t a guy just be hungry?” he said, stuffing in another french fry into his full mouth.

 

              I shook my head as I took a sip of my beer. “Just watch yourself. I don’t want you eating the table too.”

 

              “Ha ha,” Jamie said, his sarcasm muffled by the food in his mouth.

 

              The pub was relatively quiet today. It was an odd time of day, in between lunch and dinner. There were a few patrons but for the most part, we had the place to ourselves.

 

              We sat in the far back corner. I liked having a solid wall behind me with a good view of the door and exit points like windows. Old habits die hard.              

 

              And the back area gave plenty of space for Jamie’s wheelchair.

 

              Which I noticed had begun sagging quite noticeably in the seat ever since Jamie had started his meal. The kid was as skinny as a toothpick but he ate like a monster.

 

              My lips twitched as I remembered a few weeks ago when Halle had complained that it was unfair that Jamie could eat whatever he wanted and not gain an ounce while she could just look at a slice of pie and immediately blow up. I had been about to correct her and say that I had never seen her ‘blow up’ but Jamie beat me to the punch.

 

              He had smiled up angelically at her and said, “I know, right? I could’ve been a model. The catwalks of Milan are just a touch less brilliant because of my absence, don’t you think?”

 

              Halle had immediately burst into laughter and I couldn’t help myself but cuff him on his silly head.

             

              “Why isn’t Halle here today?” Jamie asked, jerking me out of my thoughts. Did the kid have ESP or something?

 

              “She’s out making sure some of our furniture comes in on time,” I said. “We’ve basically only had a bed and a few chairs for the last couple weeks.”

 

              Jamie gave me a knowing look. “Just the bed, eh? I see you have your priorities straight.”

 

              I gave him another cuff.
Smartmouthed kid.
I grinned as Jamie laughed in protest.

 

              “Plus, she said it would be good for me to come on my own,” I said. “She wanted us to have some ‘brotherly bonding’ time.”

 

              I expected Jamie to make another crack but instead, I saw his eyes soften and his lips turn up in a soft smile. Much fairer than me with blonde hair and blue-green eyes, Jamie looked very much like a young kid when his face was relaxed.

 

              “She’s good,” he said softly. He looked down at his various half eaten pies then looked up at me with a faint smile. “She’s good. I like her.”

 

              My chest tightened at his words. I had never worried about Jamie liking or disliking Halle. In fact, I had had no time to worry about such things. After all, we had left the States on the heels of a murder. A very deserved murder but a murder nonetheless. I hadn’t had time to worry about what Jamie would think of this new stranger I was now bringing into his life.              

 

              Although even if I had had time to worry, I wouldn’t have. How could anyone not like Halle? After all, it had been her guileless charm and gutsy bravado that had kept her alive in the Desmond compound. No one was immune to Halle Margot.

 

              And yet, it felt good to hear the words of approval from Jamie. It felt as if a missing puzzle piece had fallen into place in my heart. I hadn’t realized it but somehow, subconsciously, I had been hoping that Jamie would love and appreciate Halle as much as I did. And it felt good to know that he could see her light as well as I could.

 

             
Good? No, she was fucking
amazing.

 

              And I was lucky to have her.

 

              When I think of all the narrow escapes we had had to make it to where we were now, I was more than lucky. I was blessed.

 

              “Can’t argue you with you there,” I said, taking another sip of my beer.

 

              Jamie grinned.

 

              “What about that project you said you had been working on? How’s that going?” I asked, changing topics.

 

              Jamie’s face lit up. Although confined to a wheelchair, Jamie was never slow in anything, least of all academics. He was brilliant. His brain seemed to just eat up any bits of knowledge that it was given. And it made me proud to see him flourish so well after the shitshow his childhood had been.

 

              Well,
our
childhoods. We had both grown up under the sadistic thumb of Roy Desmond. But I had lucked out. I had somehow by some genetic machinations inherited that killer instinct, that knack for survival even against the harshest, cruelest circumstances.

 

              But Jamie hadn’t been like that. Jamie had been fair and delicate. His health had always been on the shaky side. That didn’t stop him from smiling and being as bright as the sun but those were definitely not qualities Roy Desmond could give any fucks about.

 

              And no matter how much Roy had tried to stamp out the light in Jamie, it hadn’t worked. Even after being crippled, Jamie had retained that untainted sweetness that had galvanized me to make sure Roy never laid a finger on him again.

 

              “It’s going great!” Jamie said enthusiastically. “We actually presented it last week and I spoke with my advisor about it yesterday. She said the research had been impeccable and that with how well we had done, she wouldn’t be surprised if we were nominated for the Amateur Theorist Award.” He blushed slightly, clearly a little embarrassed to be tooting his own horn.

 

              But I slapped him on the back, grinning in pride. “Congratulations, man!” I said. “Way to fucking go!”

 

              Jamie huffed a laugh. “I forget how American you are,” he said, rolling his eyes but smiling in pleasure.

 

              I raised a brow at him. “You’re American too, little brother,” I reminded him.

 

              He gave me a haughty look, lifting his chin a little. “Yes, but I’ve learned a more elegant line of speech, older brother,” he said with a hint of a British accent.

 

              I grabbed his nose and yanked his head forward. He gave a cry of protest as he tried to wriggle out of my grasp. “Yeah, well, you’ll just have to deal with the fact you got a crude American brother who likes his ‘fucks’ like he likes his women—free and proud!”

 

              Jamie finally pulled away. I laughed as I watched him scrunch his face up as he tried to get feeling back in his nose. He gave me a dirty look then called over a waiter to order some more food, giving me a measured look since we both knew I’d be picking up the tab.

 

              We ate together, giving each other updates on our lives. Mostly, I let Jamie talk, wanting to hear about what was going on. The less he knew about the complications about mine and Halle’s life the better.

 

              I had of course told him about Roy’s death but I had left out the circumstances that had led to it. Jamie had taken the news with a blank face, nodding as if he was hearing a news report about a stranger. “Okay,” he had said. And that had been it.

 

              Roy had never been any class of father to either of us but least of all to Jamie. It was right that the fucker had only gotten such a flippant one word epithet from his son.

 

              But everything else, we kept the details loose and vague. And Jamie was keen enough to know not to ask too many questions.

 

              With most of the food demolished, Jamie leaned back in his chair, looking over the expanse of cleaned plates.

 

              A comfortable silence fell over us as we sat as brothers, enjoying the repletion felt after such a massive meal.

 

              “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

              I looked up in surprise.

 

              Jamie stared at me, his clear blue eyes steady and open. His lips held a faint curve of a smile. There was a wistfulness in his eyes but it was also coupled with a deep and undeniable happiness.

 

              “I had always…” he started, then coughed and looked down, clearly unsure how to express his emotions. “I had always wished we could’ve spent more time together when I was younger.” He gave a half shrug as if to shake off how deep this secret wish had been.

 

              “I had the best of everything here, I know, but I was…lonely. I missed you. I missed having family.” He picked at the corner of his napkin. “And I felt bad that I couldn’t be there to help you.” He made a gesture to his legs. “I know I couldn’t have helped with much anyway, but still.”

 

              It was a rare reference to his ruined legs. Jamie was a paraplegic and had been since eighteen. But rarely did I ever hear him complain. Even as we had shipped him off to England where he would be a safe distance away from the dangers of L.A. and Roy Desmond, Jamie had squeezed
my
hand in reassurance.

 

              He had never let himself be the victim even though he had every right to be.

 

              So hearing him suddenly refer to his legs, I felt my heart clench in spasm of pain. And a fiery rage burned within me to shoot Roy Desmond again. I wanted to carve a knife into him and let him feel all the pain he had inflicted on his own sons.

 

              “Jamie,” I said, waiting for him to meet my gaze. “Knowing you were safe, knowing you were able to live a life outside of the Family, made it possible for me to survive.”

 

              Jamie shook his head as if to argue with me but I quickly stopped him. “Don’t,” I said with sternness. “Don’t blame yourself for anything. I’m fucking proud of you, kid. You were handed a shit deal. Most people would’ve crumbled but you didn’t. There’s a strength in you that I don’t have. And it’s because of that strength that I’m here today.” I gave him another meaningful look. “You better fucking believe it.”

 

              Jamie pressed his lips, clearly torn between feeling guilt and relief.

 

              I stared at him before tousling his hair. Jamie looked up in surprise, his blonde hair messy and scattered.

 

              I smiled. “I’m glad I’m here too,” I said. I had never thought the day would come. I had never thought I would be able to live a life free of Roy’s shadow. But here I was. I had Jamie. I had Halle. It was too perfect.

 

              And with every fiber of my being, I intended to keep it this way. We had all suffered enough. I would make sure to keep them both safe and happy. We had a chance now to live in the light after a lifetime of darkness. There was no way I was going to let anyone take that away from us.

 

              “I’m glad we’re all together,” I said, putting words to my thoughts.

 

              Jamie smiled, his blue eyes shining brightly. “Me too.”

BOOK: Risky Temptation
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