Justine Davis - Operation Unleashed

Stepping up to the plate will put him in the line of fire…

For Drew Kiley, married life isn’t what he had in mind. Driven to “I do” by a sense of familial responsibility, he assumes the role of husband to his brother’s wife, Alyssa…and the role of father to his nephew, Luke. It seems to be the logical solution in light of his brother’s abandonment. But Drew doesn’t know the whole truth about his brother’s past. A rescue from a canine companion sets Drew and Alyssa on a perilous course of extortion, kidnapping and secrets unveiled. United in their determination to protect Luke, Drew and Alyssa learn to depend on each other. But as tensions escalate, so does a deep undercurrent of desire that casts their marriage in a different light.

“Don’t,” Drew said, snapping her out of her painful memories. “Don’t say things you don’t really mean.”

There was an undertone of something in his voice that made her breath stop. A tightness, an edge, something.

Heat. That, too. In his voice, and in his eyes as he looked at her.

“But I do mean it,” she said softly. “I’ve only just realized I’ve meant it for a while now.”

“Lyss—”

She put a hand on his chest, over his heart, and his words cut off as if her action had sucked the very air out of him. She could feel the thud of his heart, felt a skip in her own heartbeat as his accelerated at her touch.

Dear Reader,

I never grew up with a brother. I had one, but he died as an infant before I was born, so I never had that kind of sibling relationship with a male. Perhaps that’s why it fascinates me so. Or perhaps it’s because it’s so very different from the sister/sister relationship I do know. But my husband had four brothers, and a son and daughter, so I’ve had great opportunity to observe and learn. And I have a niece and nephew who are playing out that growing up together right now. Right about here is where I should say the story in this book is not a representation of any of those relationships!

If you grew up with brothers, I envy you. It’s something I missed, and although I suspect I would not have appreciated it every step of the way, that it intrigues me is obvious since they keep cropping up in my work. And to those of you who would say, “If you’d had one, you wouldn’t feel that way!” I can only say I’m the victim (grateful recipient?) of that writer’s curse…the words What if?

In a previous book (Operation Reunion) I explored that brother/sister connection. In this book, it’s two very different brothers, one long dead but still affecting the other, in fact shaping his entire life.

I hope you enjoy it!

Justine

Operation Unleashed

Justine Davis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUSTINE DAVIS

Justine Davis lives on Puget Sound in Washington state, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by, and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when she’s not planning, plotting or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course.

Connect with Justine at her website, >justinedavis.com, at >twitter.com/justine_d_davis, or on Facebook at >facebook.com/justinedaredavis.

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MAX

I was used to female German Shepherds, so when Mandy died, I immediately sought out another Shepherd. A woman invited me out to see her dogs; she had at least 7 Shepherds. When I got there, I asked, “Which one is mine?” She pointed to a smallish brown and white male dog, with floppy (not pointy) ears. So I said, “What’s that?” And she said, “That’s Max. He’s part Brittany, part Pointer. You can have him.” I wanted a Shepherd. Female, not a male mutt. But the thought of having fur to pet and cuddle led me to lead him to the car. By the time I got home, I was in love! Max had eyes the color of sherry, he craved salad, and he was my constant companion and faithful guy for 13 years. The night my mother died, he went into my mother’s room and walked around her hospital bed, as if to say, “Goodbye.” And less than a year later, Max became suddenly, catastrophically ill—and I was having to say “Goodbye” to him. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. He died in 1995, and I still miss him every day. Max the wonderful dog—I still love you.

—Binnie Syril Braunstein

This is the latest in a series of dedications from readers who have shared the pain of the loss of a beloved dog. For more information visit my website at www.justinedavis.com.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter 1

Quinn Foxworth had never really realized just how loud a dog’s bark could be. For an instant, when Cutter exploded into earsplitting noise inside the closed vehicle, a vision of distant sands and guard dogs trumpeting a warning of an enemy inside the perimeter shot through his mind.

That hadn’t happened for a long time. He consciously eased his muscles, especially his hands, on the steering wheel and instinctively slowed the SUV down.

“Loud when he wants to be, isn’t he?”

Quinn looked over at his fiancée, and the last of the memory vanished. He was grateful she hadn’t noticed his reaction. And then her gaze locked on his and he saw in her eyes that Hayley hadn’t missed a thing. But she had intentionally not prodded.

No wonder he loved her beyond measure.

“Yes,” he said belatedly, having to raise his voice just as she had to be heard over the cacophony from the back of the SUV.

“He’s not usually like that in the car,” she said. “You know he has exquisite manners. Well, except for when that guy tried to reach in.”

“Good for him. And lucky for the guy it wasn’t me.”

She smiled. Yeah, he loved her all right. And their wedding wasn’t soon enough to suit him, even though it was less than a month away.

The barking suddenly morphed into a howl, and Cutter clawed at the back hatch of the car.

“Well, that’s a new one,” Hayley said, wincing at the sound.

“Easy, dog,” Quinn said, but the howling continued.

He’d learned by now that ignoring Cutter was never a good idea. They were on a rather narrow lane, headed home from the indulgence of a breakfast out, but they’d passed a park a few yards back. He checked the mirrors, then put the SUV in Reverse. The moment they began to back up, the howling subsided to a mild whine that at least allowed room for thought.

He backed up until he could swing into the small parking area. The whine stopped. But Cutter was clearly still on full alert, ears and tail up, staring out toward the park.