Fatal Courage: Shadow Force International, Book 3 (Shadow Force International Romantic Suspense Series)
Authors: Misty Evans
Fatal Courage
Shadow Force International, Book 3
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Misty Evans
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To Mark, who is always salty, and free with the curse words.
Acknowledgements
Another wonderful adventure for me, writing Fatal Courage and learning about the world of medicine, the business of terrorism, and weaving an intricate storyline where a good guy might be bad…or he might be a bad guy who excels at making people believe he’s good. Which one is Elliot? Honestly, it wasn’t until I was done with the first draft that I knew myself. That’s where gratitude to Adrienne Giordano comes in. She gave me the idea for Elliot’s character. Thank you, my friend and awesome brainstorming partner.
Thanks, also, to the Rockin’ Readers, my street team/review crew, who are always there for me, like an extended family. You guys make this journey fun and exciting. Often when I’m writing, I picture all of you in my head.
A special shout-out to Maria Mercedes, who volunteered to share her name with Beatrice’s midwife. You’ll be reading more about Beatrice, Cal, and Maria in the upcoming novella, FATAL LOVE, starring the new baby. Girl or boy? Readers get to decide, so check out the end of the story to find out where you can cast your vote.
The white room meditation mentioned in the story comes via my son, Ben, who also turned me onto Tibetan singing bowls. Kids these days.
By the way, for those who love Jax, a piece of trivia. The name Sloan is Gaelic and means “warrior”. I didn’t know that when I picked his name, but it sure fits.
A huge thank you goes out to my yoga sister, Gloria Rumpf, who told me about her midwife and the foot trick to induce labor during our teacher training. I had to use it, G. Great story! To all of my yoga teacher training classmates (Gloria, Julie, Kayla, and Sonya) and our beloved yoga teacher (Pam) —I owe you my sanity. I was writing this story during our training period and preparing for my sons’ graduation as well as my move to a new state. I met my edge many times over and handled it with your love and support. Thank you, yogis!
As always, I am indebted to my editors, cover artist, beta readers, and formatter, who take my lump of clay and make it shiny and pretty. I couldn’t do it without all of you, or without Amy Remus, who does a fantastic job keeping me organized.
Shadow Force International
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A group of former SEALs, abandoned by the United States and labeled as rogue operatives, who now work as a black ops team performing private intelligence, security, and paramilitary missions for those who have nowhere else to turn.
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Fate whispers to the warrior ‘you cannot withstand the storm’;
the warrior whispers back ‘I am the storm.’
~ Anonymous
Fatal Courage, Shadow Force International Book 3
Copyright © 2016 Misty Evans
ISBN: 978-0-9966470-7-6
Cover Art by Sweet & Spicy Designs
Formatting by Author E.M.S.
Editing by Patricia Essex, Marcie Gately
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Table of Contents
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Chapter One
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J
AXON
S
LOAN
W
ANTED
to stuff burlap in his ears.
Techno dance music filled the air. The entire Chicago nightclub pulsed, the rhythm beating against his eardrums and making his eyes cross.
He used to love this type of music, the deep throb that reminded him of sex. After his stint in Morocco with a certain female CIA operative, he lost his love of the hard-driving, electronic music. These days, he preferred the sensuous tease of finger symbols, flutes, and frame drums.
Not even the sexy women grinding it out on the dance floor in front of him were enough to distract him. He should have had a hard-on from all the tight bodies on display, the luscious hips and full racks undulating under the flashing neon lights. Red lips, fuck-me pumps, skin, skin, and more skin everywhere he looked.
She’s not here
.
He knew what that meant.
No Ruby, no hard-on.
Story of his fucking life.
Forcing himself to tune out the hellish music, he scanned the crowd again. He’d spotted her rental outside. She had to be here somewhere.
Restroom?
Bar?
Private room upstairs?
His gaze darted to the reflective mirrors over the dance floor. The club boasted a private suite with two-way mirrors, a personal bar, and giant flat-screens. Tonight’s renter, a gangster named Augustus “Little Gus” Nelson, had recently dipped his toes into the international terrorist trade.
A soft, involuntary growl rose from Jax’s throat. The thought that Ruby might be with Little Gus, using her inimitable charms as well as her CIA training to pump the king of the South Side black market for information made him want to draw his weapon and shoot the mirrored glass overhead.
Pull your shit together.
Beatrice, his boss at Shadow Force International, was always warning him about his temper. Too many times in his thirty years of life, it had gotten him into major trouble.
But then, he sort of liked trouble.
Hell, he
loved
trouble. Trouble meant confrontation, swinging fists, and sometimes a one-night stand with a beautiful, belly-dancing spy.
Dropping his gaze, he analyzed various ways to get into that suite and find out if his intuition was accurate. The only reason Ruby was here tonight had to be Little Gus. She was supposed to have her ass planted behind a desk, spending her probation time from the Agency assisting the local Feds with counterterrorism cases. No fieldwork. No undercover assignments. Just good old-fashioned paper shuffling.
Yet, she was here, in this club, frequented by the gangster. If Jax knew anything about the CIA’s former golden girl, Ruby wasn’t here for the apple cosmos and Calvin Harris music.
Maybe she’s meeting Hayden
.
And wouldn’t that make his night? Snagging Elliot Hayden, Ruby’s former partner, currently a federal fugitive, would be one fucking big feather in Jaxon’s cap. Hell, he’d barely received his orders to go after Hayden three hours ago. If he wrapped up this mission for Shadow Force International before sunrise, he’d be on the fast track to running his own SFI team. Beatrice would be so unbelievably impressed, she might even congratulate him and give him a raise.
Sweet bonus, that. The head of Shadow Force International teams was one hard woman to impress. Even harder to get in good with.
Plus, Hayden was a scumbag. Taking him down—again—would feel pretty righteous. How the fucknugget had escaped federal prison was beyond Jax. He feared Hayden had had assistance from a pretty brunette who could talk her way into and out of anything.
Including Jax’s bed.
Although, to be fair, in that one night of mind-blowing sex, they’d christened every piece of furniture, the floor, and the shower, spending little time actually in his bed.
Whoa
. His gaze snagged on a young woman making her way onto the dance floor in a clingy red number that draped over her curves like hot fudge over ice cream.
He couldn’t see her face as she danced alone, raising her arms over her head and shimmying her body. She was blond instead of brunette, but he knew that body well. The shimmying started at her fingertips, moved down her arms, her chest, her belly. It ended at her hips with a figure eight sway, back and forth, back and forth, her hips hitting that certain spot…and Jax knew.
Knew
.
Like a straight shot of whiskey to his stomach, his system reacted. His fingers twitched; sweat broke out on along his hairline. The hard-on he should have had earlier jumped to attention.
Goddammit, Ruby
.
He’d seen the belly dancer moves before, in the privacy of a steamy Marrakech bedroom, nothing touching her skin except for the see-through hip scarf with gold coins hanging low on her hips. He still remembered the way the coins were sensitive to every move she made.
Ting, ting, ting
. The remembered sound infiltrated his ears, blocking out the driving dance music, the rise and drop of her exquisite hips flashing through his mind.