Explosive Vengeance
(Vengeance #3)
by Kaylea Cross
ebook
Expected publication: October 29th 2019 by Kaylea Cross Inc.
ISBN139781928044352
Two opposites in uncharted territory.The government made Chloe Wilson an explosives expert, trained to take out a target with a precise, controlled hit. But there’s nothing controlled about her current situation—or the danger coming after her. When a good-looking stranger is sent to watch her back, she’s not impressed. This mission is personal, and it’s liable to get her killed. The former Valkyrie can’t afford any mistakes or attachments, but this time she has no choice, and soon her new partner proves his worth.One explosive situation.When former Pararescueman Heath Barrett gets a call from his best friend asking him to keep tabs on a woman in danger, he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. Far from a helpless civilian, Chloe holds him at knifepoint the first time they meet. She’s a deadly operative being hunted by lethal enemies and by the time he realizes the extent of the danger, it’s too late to walk away. Now they’re both targets, and he and Chloe must face the threat head on—and if they want to survive, they’ll have to do it together.
Excerpt:
Keeping part of her attention on the man across the aisle, Chloe shifted down in her seat and tucked her gum high up under the side of her upper lip with her tongue. Folding her arms, she dropped her chin to her chest and pretended to go to sleep.
A few minutes later, the hottie across the aisle glanced over. He stared at her for a second, then went back to reading.
Huh. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe he wasn’t a threat at all.
But being paranoid was why she was still breathing.
Chloe continued watching him covertly as the minutes ticked past. He had a gruff edge to him, in his body language and his don’t-talk-to-me expression. He diligently read the whole magazine, then set it aside and pulled out his phone. He didn’t appear to be texting anyone, just scrolling through whatever he was looking at on the screen. Every so often he would glance over at her, moving only his eyes, the looks so subtle someone without training would have missed it.
Why are you watching me?
She feigned sleep until a voice over the speakers finally announced they were approaching Strasbourg. Gruff hottie put away his phone and tucked his magazine into his backpack, his open jacket giving her a perfect view of the muscular contours of his chest beneath his snug shirt.
She narrowed her eyes and resumed chewing her gum. He might be nice to look at, but if he was a threat, she’d take him out without hesitation.
Before the train stopped, she was up and out of her seat, making her way to the door at the far end of the car. A quick glance to the side showed him up and heading toward her. He was pretending not to look at her, but he was edging past people to get closer.
I don’t think so.
The conductor had barely begun to open the door when she shoved through it and hurried along the platform, watching all her angles for any sign of a threat. Gruff hottie was still behind her, walking fast to keep her in his sights, but not chasing her.
See ya.
Chloe ducked around the corner, chose a different route to double back with, and sure enough, found him now on the platform looking around for her.
She ducked into the closest ladies’ room. In a locked stall, she pulled out some things from her backpack to change her appearance. Wearing light makeup and different clothes, she checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure the wig was on straight, then exited the washroom and doubled back with a group of passengers exiting the station.
Gruff hottie was standing on the platform, looking left and right. His gaze swept past her, then he began walking at a hurried pace through the terminal, searching for someone.
Her. She knew it.
Chloe followed, keeping a safe distance while he checked outside the building, scanned the parking lot. When he turned back and headed for the side of the terminal to check there, she made her move.
Slipping around the corner of the building from the other side, she chose a shadowy spot away from any people or cameras, and waited, knife in hand. Rapid footsteps approached to her right moments later.
Gruff hottie.
The second he was within reach, she pounced.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, she spun him around and slammed his back into the brick wall behind him before he could react.
Those blue, blue eyes locked on her face in pissed-off astonishment as she pressed the edge of her blade to his groin and growled, “Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?”
Keeping part of her attention on the man across the aisle, Chloe shifted down in her seat and tucked her gum high up under the side of her upper lip with her tongue. Folding her arms, she dropped her chin to her chest and pretended to go to sleep.
A few minutes later, the hottie across the aisle glanced over. He stared at her for a second, then went back to reading.
Huh. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe he wasn’t a threat at all.
But being paranoid was why she was still breathing.
Chloe continued watching him covertly as the minutes ticked past. He had a gruff edge to him, in his body language and his don’t-talk-to-me expression. He diligently read the whole magazine, then set it aside and pulled out his phone. He didn’t appear to be texting anyone, just scrolling through whatever he was looking at on the screen. Every so often he would glance over at her, moving only his eyes, the looks so subtle someone without training would have missed it.
Why are you watching me?
She feigned sleep until a voice over the speakers finally announced they were approaching Strasbourg. Gruff hottie put away his phone and tucked his magazine into his backpack, his open jacket giving her a perfect view of the muscular contours of his chest beneath his snug shirt.
She narrowed her eyes and resumed chewing her gum. He might be nice to look at, but if he was a threat, she’d take him out without hesitation.
Before the train stopped, she was up and out of her seat, making her way to the door at the far end of the car. A quick glance to the side showed him up and heading toward her. He was pretending not to look at her, but he was edging past people to get closer.
I don’t think so.
The conductor had barely begun to open the door when she shoved through it and hurried along the platform, watching all her angles for any sign of a threat. Gruff hottie was still behind her, walking fast to keep her in his sights, but not chasing her.
See ya.
Chloe ducked around the corner, chose a different route to double back with, and sure enough, found him now on the platform looking around for her.
She ducked into the closest ladies’ room. In a locked stall, she pulled out some things from her backpack to change her appearance. Wearing light makeup and different clothes, she checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure the wig was on straight, then exited the washroom and doubled back with a group of passengers exiting the station.
Gruff hottie was standing on the platform, looking left and right. His gaze swept past her, then he began walking at a hurried pace through the terminal, searching for someone.
Her. She knew it.
Chloe followed, keeping a safe distance while he checked outside the building, scanned the parking lot. When he turned back and headed for the side of the terminal to check there, she made her move.
Slipping around the corner of the building from the other side, she chose a shadowy spot away from any people or cameras, and waited, knife in hand. Rapid footsteps approached to her right moments later.
Gruff hottie.
The second he was within reach, she pounced.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, she spun him around and slammed his back into the brick wall behind him before he could react.
Those blue, blue eyes locked on her face in pissed-off astonishment as she pressed the edge of her blade to his groin and growled, “Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?”
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About the author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense. Her work has won many awards, including the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence. A Registered Massage Therapist by trade, Kaylea is also an avid gardener, artist, Civil War buff, Special Ops aficionado, belly dance enthusiast and former nationally-carded softball pitcher. She lives in Vancouver, BC with her husband and family. http://kayleacross.com/v2/
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