Authors: Kaylea Cross
Copyright © 2016 by Kaylea Cross
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Cover Art by
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
To all the strong, kickass women out there, and the men who love them.
If you’ve already read the Hostage Rescue Team series, then you’ll be familiar with the main characters in this first book of The Colebrook Siblings trilogy.
Many of you have asked me to write a story for Trinity, and she’s just so darn intriguing and mysterious that I couldn’t say no. She’s the most lethal of all the Valkyries. She has to be, because of how close she has to get to her targets. In this story she’s in for a huge surprise when a tall, dark and handsome stranger poses the biggest risk to her of all—by threatening her jaded heart.
Trinity hid her revulsion behind an impassive mask as Franco Salvatori slid a proprietary arm around her waist and leaned in to whisper against her ear, his words clear against the backdrop of the crowd. A steady buzz of conversation filled the ballroom, punctuated by laughter. “Ready to get out of here so we can finally be alone?”
Pasting on her best seductive smile in the low lighting, she nodded, edging her body into his just enough so that her breast brushed along the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket. The ballroom was packed with hundreds of D.C.’s richest citizens, yet he’d managed to find a secluded corner that allowed them a modicum of privacy. “I’ve been waiting for those words all night.”
Salvatori’s black eyes glittered as they flicked down to ogle the ample cleavage displayed by the bodice of her black velvet evening gown. He licked his lips before meeting her gaze. “You’re a sexy little thing.”
She gave him a coy look and set her half-finished flute of champagne on a passing waiter’s tray. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” She let her gaze drop to his groin, where his erection was visible beneath his tux pants, and licked her lips in turn, a hard knot of anger forming in the pit of her stomach.
She couldn’t wait to kill him.
Oblivious to the danger she posed, he gave a low chuckle and tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her close, until the front of her body pressed up against his side. She’d perfected her acting abilities well over a decade ago, commanded her body to stay pliant, even lean into his hold. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said in a low voice.
“Good,” she murmured next to his ear.
But not as much as I am
. She let one hand trail slowly down the center of his chest, the tip of her index finger pausing at each button, then stopping just above his waistband.
Just enough to make him harder, to make him fantasize about the moment when she unbuttoned his pants and slid her hand inside to fist him. But rather than pleasure him, she was far more likely to grab his balls and twist them until he screamed in agony. Evil bastard.
“Because I’m still so very…hungry,” she added in a whisper, her lips brushing his ear.
He was sweating lightly, the scent mixing with the strong cologne he used. Even though the smell made her faintly sick to her stomach she made sure to inhale deeply, give a little purr of enjoyment before easing away from him.
She was a master of seducing her targets. Each one was different and each time she made sure she learned their weakness before ever coming near them.
As far as sexual tastes went and despite all the depraved acts his crimes allowed—like sex trafficking and sex slavery—Salvatori was surprisingly average for his social rank and age. He was in his mid-sixties, his marriage was in name only, and he wanted some action on the side with a twenty or thirty-something sex kitten. Nothing too extreme, just a little light bondage and maybe some rough-edged sex that wasn’t always consensual.
Not that she’d let things get that far.
She’d crafted this cover carefully over the past few months, giving him the living, breathing fantasy he’d always wanted: a woman as good in the board room as she was in bed. Once she’d known what she needed in order to get close to him, it hadn’t been difficult to construct Eva Gregorivich.
Eva had a master’s degree in business from Harvard, started her own software business at twenty-one, strategic investments had made her independently wealthy. That she didn’t need his money was yet another thing that made Salvatori want her so much. He was far too used to women sidling up to him for that.
Eva had all the money she would ever need, she had experience, and she also had the reputation of a wild streak in bed guaranteed to make Salvatori sit up and immediately take notice. Her fake identity was solid, even having several reputable charities and other philanthropic endeavors to her name.
But there was just enough unknown about her, enough whispers she’d planted in Salvatori’s circle, to make her both alluring and mysterious. She was quite proud of the cover she’d constructed. Eva was an irresistible challenge to a man like him—a rich megalomaniac rumored to have made his fortune from illegal arms deals and with a taste for high-priced escorts and single women half his age.
The people who’d hired her either saw him as enough of an embarrassment, or maybe a threat, to warrant hiring her to kill him. With the payout she would receive from this hit, all the meticulous preparation she’d put in over the past few months would pay off in dividends. She’d take the money and give it to programs that would help Salvatori’s many victims.
Salvatori deserved to die for all the American military lives he’d cost with his arms deals, and for all the women he’d subjected to a life of sexual slavery. She knew all too well what it felt like to be a man’s victim. It would be her pleasure to send him to hell where he belonged.
Trinity cast a sly glance at her unsuspecting target over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, the tendrils of golden brown hair she’d teased from the coiffed, updo wig caressing her bare shoulders. “You coming?”
His answering leer told her he hoped to be doing exactly that in the very near future.
He was in for quite a surprise.
She didn’t wait for him, just walked away with an extra sway in her hips, the long slit in the left side of her dress showing off the length of her bare thigh and calf. Sexy yet elegant, and it concealed the thin garter strapped to the inside of her right thigh. Knowing he’d follow, she headed for the exit of the grand ballroom, noting where his bodyguard, a hulking man dressed in a Louis Vuitton suit, was positioned. She could take him if she had to, but the fewer hiccups tonight, the better.
Tino waited over by the gleaming granite bar in the corner. He hadn’t moved from his spot all night, except to shift stools so he could maintain a visual on Salvatori.
He was a constant thorn in Trinity’s side on this job. Normally she would have taken Salvatori out by now but his bodyguard cost a mint for a reason. He was a former Mob enforcer and never let his boss out of his sight, even to take a piss. She would have killed him already had it not posed a high risk of exposing her.
No matter. She’d killed tougher targets than this, and she’d come here prepared. If she had to eliminate them both to get this done, so be it. Killing was second nature to her now.
As she walked to the coat check she was aware of everything happening around her. How many people, where they were positioned, what they were wearing. Every sound.
She feigned surprise to find Tino standing behind her when the man at the coat check station handed her the cream, knee-length peacoat she’d worn. “Oh. Hi.”
His hard face was expressionless, but distrust clouded his green eyes. “I’ll escort you to your car.”
She gave him a sweet, but pointed smile. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’m going with Franco tonight.” She turned her smile on her date, who strode toward them, his gaze lingering on her body.
“It’s all right, Tino,” he told his goon. “I’ll be seeing Ms. Gregorivich home later personally. Much later,” he added with a smile as he raised her fingers to his lips.
Tino merely grunted and took her elbow in one big hand. “I’ll walk her out,” he said in a rough voice.
Knowing full well he wanted to check her for weapons, Trinity acquiesced without an argument and accompanied him outside into the chilly April evening air, taking small steps to make him think her dress and spiked heels made it difficult for her to keep up. Suspicious or not, she needed him to see her—Eva—as a little bit helpless.
They passed by the valet station and continued around the side of the swanky hotel to a shadowy spot away from anyone or security cameras.
“I have to check you for weapons. Stand still,” Tino said gruffly.
“What?” she asked, putting enough of an appalled tone into her voice to lend her act realism.
He ignored her and began unbuttoning her coat. She stiffened, made sure to shoot Salvatori an uncertain glance. Her date watched his bodyguard, but didn’t interfere as Tino unceremoniously began checking first her coat, doing a thorough inspection of the pockets and lining before moving on to her dress.
Trinity sucked in a breath and made a show of grabbing his wrists as those meaty hands closed over her ribcage, just above her waist. “Hey,” she protested, tightening her grip for a moment. She could break his wrists with one quick twist and some carefully applied leverage if she so chose, but that would have to remain only a fantasy for now.
“Quiet.” Tino impatiently brushed her hands aside and skimmed his own over her body, pausing to linger at her breasts.
Even though they were in shadow she could tell by the way he touched her—like she was a
instead of a person, a mere object to satisfy his every sexual whim—that he wanted her. It was another reminder that he and Salvatori often shared women, and that his boss liked to watch Tino with the women he hooked up with.
She hid her distaste behind a mask of outrage as he slipped a hand to the slit in her dress and stole beneath it, his fingers curling around the flesh of her left inner thigh. She swatted at his hand. “
It would be so satisfying to kill him too, once she was done with Salvatori. Though he wasn’t her intended target and she wouldn’t get paid for it, killing a ruthless thug like him would be an act of service to the world at large.
Those rough fingers squeezed her thigh suggestively for a moment, then dragged upward, stopping at the triangular edge of the G-string she wore.
like that. “Get your filthy hands off me,” she gritted out, shoving at him.
He didn’t budge, seemed to take delight in groping her and the knowledge he was making her uncomfortable. “You’re different than his others,” he told her. “I can see why he wants to be alone with you so bad.” Even in the dimness the look in his eyes made it clear what else he was thinking.
If you want to see what a real man can do for you once he’s finished, let me know.
Eva would never lower herself to fucking him, especially not so Salvatori could watch. “
,” she snapped, mock struggling in his grip.
He merely chuckled and skimmed his hand down the inside of her thigh. When he reached the lacy garter he paused before slipping a finger into it and running it around the inside of the band. His fingers paused on the black satin bow and the crystal nestled in its center.