Midnight Action

PRAISE FOR ELLE KENNEDY’S KILLER INSTINCTS SERIES

Midnight Pursuits

“Kennedy’s fourth Killer Instincts romantic thriller is a gripping and pulse-pounding tale....First-class adventure, passionate desire, and fierce characters make this a very satisfying page-turner.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“[S]izzlingly sexy [and] deeply emotional, as two loners fight against the realization they could make an amazing team. Kennedy aces another one!”

—
RT Book Reviews
(4
¹
/
₂
stars)

Midnight Games

“Kennedy’s delicious third Killer Instincts romantic thriller... takes readers on a terrific emotional roller-coaster ride full of relentless action, heated sexual tension, and nail-biting plot twists....Seamlessly [weaves] the romance into the mission story line....Fantastic recurring characters, a deftly drawn plot, and breathless passion will leave the reader begging for more.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“An excellent addition to a very good romantic suspense series. The story has a fascinating plotline, lots of action, and an intriguing twist.”

—Fresh Fiction

“So far each book has been suspenseful, heartbreaking, and full of sexy times, with
Midnight Games
being the best yet.”

—Fiction Vixen

“As sexy as it is exciting. Elle Kennedy hits all the right notes in this fast-paced, adrenaline-filled third installment to her outstanding Killer Instincts series....Action aplenty...spellbinding romantic suspense.”

—Joyfully Reviewed

Midnight Alias

“Balances the gritty side of humanity with sizzling passion.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“[Kennedy] shows a real flair for penning thrillers that are passionate, gritty, and extremely suspenseful.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(top pick)

“Seduction, sex, and suspense—Elle Kennedy is a master at blending all....[The] Killer Instincts series is dark, sensual, and extremely compelling.”

—Romance Junkies

Midnight Rescue

“If you’re looking for a chilling, hard-core romantic suspense loaded with sensuality, military camaraderie, and dry humor, why not arrange for a
Midnight Rescue
?”

—
USA Today

“Romantic suspense just gained a major new player!”

—
RT Book Reviews
(4
¹
/
₂
stars)

“This was a very good romantic suspense. It had all the right elements that I look for in a book like this. The hot alpha men. The strong women they pair up with.”

—Fiction Vixen

Also Available in the Killer Instincts Series

Midnight Rescue

Midnight Alias

Midnight Games

Midnight Pursuits

After Midnight
(Penguin Special)

SIGNET ECLIPSE

Published by the Penguin Group

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penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

First Printing, November 2014

Copyright © Leeanne Kenedy, 2014

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

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ISBN 978-1-101-63478-3

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

To Jesse, for convincing me that these two had to be together!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I couldn’t have written this book without the usual suspects:

My incredible editor, Laura Fazio, for her invaluable input and sheer enthusiasm for this series.

Travis White for his superior research skills and finding answers to all the strange questions I lob his way.

The incomparable Vivian Arend for her early feedback and endless cheerleading.

My proofreader, Sharon Muha, for her eagle eye and, more important, her friendship and support.

My agent, Don Fehr, for his career advice and assistance.

My friends and family for putting up with me when I’m in my deadline cave and still talking to me when I come out of it!

And of course, all the fans of the series for their e-mail, support, and love—I adore each and every one of you.

Nineteen years ago

The overcast sky and turbulent gray clouds rolling in from the east made for a miserable afternoon. Rain was imminent, and the chill in the air had already sent all of the café’s patrons inside. Only Noelle remained on the cobblestone patio, her gloved hands wrapped around a cup of hot English breakfast tea. She wished she’d brought a scarf, but she’d forgotten it back at the elegant town house in the heart of Saint Germain-des-Pres, the prestigious neighborhood she’d been calling home for the past ten years. Except the nineteenth-century property where she lived, with its soaring ceilings and sweeping gardens, was not a real home.

It was a prison.

She’d come to the Marais district today to escape, but deep down she knew there was no such thing. The numbing pain in her left hand confirmed it—she was trapped. Forced to endure René’s torment, at least for another two months. But once she turned eighteen? She’d be out of that house like a bat out of hell. For good. Forever.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could convince her mother to join her. No, Colette had made her choice. She would never leave René, but Noelle was past caring. Past begging her mother to see the light.

Pushing away her bitterness, she took a long sip of her tea. The hot liquid instantly warmed her insides, but it didn’t ease the relentless throb in her fingers. At least two were broken—the index and middle—but her thumb ached too, so perhaps it hadn’t been spared in René’s vicious attack either.

I’m going to kill you
.

She silently transmitted the message to her stepfather, willing his subconscious to hear it. And it was no longer wishful thinking—she
would
kill him. She didn’t know when, couldn’t even begin to figure out how, but René Laurent was going to die at her hands. She would make sure of it.

“Is this seat taken?”

The deep, gravelly voice jolted Noelle from her bloodthirsty thoughts. When she laid eyes on the man it belonged to, her breath caught in her throat.

She blinked, wondering if maybe she’d dreamed him, but then he flashed her a captivating grin and she realized that he
must
be real—her mind wasn’t capable of conjuring up a smile this heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

A pair of vivid blue eyes watched her expectantly as she searched for her voice.

“There are lots of other seats available,” she finally replied, gesturing to the deserted tables all around them.

He shrugged. “I don’t want to sit anywhere but here.”

She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “Why?”

“Because none of those other seats are across from you,” he said simply.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her gaze...Well, her gaze couldn’t seem to leave his face. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. His features were perfectly chiseled, his jaw strong and clean-shaven, his mouth far too sensual. And those eyes...midnight blue and utterly endless. A girl could lose herself in his eyes.

And this girl nearly did, until the beautiful stranger chuckled softly, alerting her to the embarrassing fact that she’d fallen into a trance.

Noelle cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I guess you can join me.” She put on an indifferent voice, but she could tell he saw right through it.

He was studying her intently as he lowered his tall, lean body into the chair opposite hers. As he set his coffee cup in front of him, her gaze landed on his hands. Big and strong, with long fingers and short, blunt fingernails.

“You’re shivering,” he said gruffly.

“It’s cold out.”

“Yes, it is.”

Noelle took a hasty sip of tea, shifting awkwardly in her chair. She watched as he ran one large hand through his dark brown hair. So short it was nearly shaved off. She wondered if he was a soldier. His bulky hunter green sweater and faded blue jeans weren’t exactly military-issue, but something about the way he carried himself, something in his shrewd blue eyes, told her he was much more than a tourist or local college student.

He was also a foreigner—she definitely hadn’t missed the distinct American accent lining his flawless French words.

“You’re from the States,” she remarked in perfect English.

He nodded in confirmation. “Virginia, born and raised. And from the sound of it, you’re American yourself.”

“My father is.”

“Did you ever live in the States?”

“Yes. We were in D.C. for eight years.”

“But now you live in Paris?”

She offered a quick nod. “My mother is French. She and I moved here after my parents got divorced.”

“I see.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

The hiss of a lighter cut through the air as he lit up, bringing a frown to Noelle’s lips.

“Smoking is very bad for you,” she said frankly.

“What can I say? I like to live on the edge.”

He grinned again, and her heart began to pound.

As she tried to control the butterflies in her stomach, his mesmerizing eyes swept over her once more and a thoughtful expression flitted across his face. “You’re beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Her cheeks scorched again. There was nothing lewd or creepy about the compliment, but the intensity with which he said it made her pulse race. Something about this man affected her in a strange, confusing way she’d never experienced before. She found herself wanting to reach across the table and touch him. Hold his hand, stroke his jaw, place her palm on his broad, muscular chest. The urge only confused her further, and so she avoided his gaze by peering down at her teacup.

“What’s your name?”

Swallowing, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

And was stunned by the odd combination of heat and desperation she saw in them.

“Noelle,” she murmured.

“Noelle.” His voice came out hoarse. “I’m James Morgan, but everyone calls me Jim, or Morgan.”

Jim. What an ordinary name for a man who was anything but.

“What brings you to Paris?” She was incredibly proud of herself for managing to speak in a steady voice when her entire body was consumed with erratic jolts of heat.

“I’m here on vacation. I have three weeks’ leave so I thought I’d travel until I had to report back to the base.”

“The base...Are you in the army?”

“Yeah. Doing my second tour now.”

“That’s nice. Do you enjoy it?”

His blue eyes flickered with...a glimmer she couldn’t quite decipher. “I do. I enjoy it a lot, actually.”

“Good. It’s important to love what you do.”

“It is,” he agreed, before slanting his head pensively. “What about you? What keeps you busy?”

“School.” Noelle shrugged. “I graduate from
high school
in the spring.”

She’d purposely emphasized the words so he would be aware of her age, but he didn’t seem distressed by it. She knew he was older—she would pin him down at twenty-one, maybe twenty-two—but the age difference didn’t bother her either.

Waves of tension moved between them. Or maybe it was awareness. She couldn’t be sure, couldn’t quite understand it, but she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling it. Jim’s pulse visibly throbbed in his throat, as if his heartbeat was as irregular as hers. And his eyes...they never left hers, not even once.

“And afterward?” he prompted. “What will you do then?”

Run.

Run and never come back.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Before she could blink, his hand breached the space between them and found hers. The burst of excitement that went off inside her was immediately replaced by the ripples of pain that seized her injured fingers.

Jim must have noticed her agitation, because his eyes narrowed. “You’re hurt,” he said flatly.

Surprise filtered through her. “I—”

He was peeling off her brown leather glove before she could protest, and when her hand was exposed, a deep frown puckered his mouth.

She saw exactly what he did—two black-and-blue fingers swollen to twice their size, and unpolished fingernails that had broken and bled beneath René’s heavy boot.

“Who did this to you?”

His low growl startled her, as did his astute assumption that her injury was no accident. When he gently ran one callused fingertip over her thumb, tears pricked her eyes, but she desperately fought them off. She refused to cry. Crying was a show of weakness, and Noelle was not weak. She would never be weak.

“You need to see a doctor,” Jim said hoarsely.

“No! No doctors,” she blurted out. “I’m fine, honestly. It was a clean break. I’ll just tape them up when I get home.”

His eyes flickered with surprise, and she could have sworn she glimpsed a gleam of admiration.

But he didn’t capitulate, just spoke again, sternly this time. “Your hand needs to be X-rayed at the hospital. There might be damage you’re not aware of.”

“No doctors,” she repeated.

“Noelle—”

She set her jaw.
“No.”

The lump of panic jamming her throat doubled in size. He couldn’t force her to see a doctor, could he? Hospitals and doctors left paper trails, and she couldn’t risk leaving a trail that her father might find. Douglas Phillips had raised her to be strong. He’d passed his warrior genes on to her, made sure she could take care of herself.

What would he think if he knew she’d allowed René to have power over her? How ashamed would he be?

Jim released a heavy breath. “Fine. If you won’t go to the hospital, at least let me take you to see a friend of mine.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What friend?”

“An old army buddy. He runs a small medical practice in Seine-Saint-Denis,” Jim explained, naming one of the more run-down neighborhoods of the city. “He’ll keep the visit off the books if I ask him to.”

Uneasiness swam in her gut, making her hesitate.

“Nobody will ever know you saw him. I promise.”

The total assurance in his tone was impossible to ignore. God, she believed him. She believed that when this man made a promise, he kept it.

“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

Their gazes collided and locked, and that unsettling and thrilling sizzle of connection traveled between them again.

Noelle couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Her surroundings faded. The wind died into utter silence. She’d never felt this way before. Ever. And she couldn’t even begin to put into words why she was so drawn to this man.

All she knew, right here, right now, on this cold and cloudy autumn afternoon, was that her entire life was about to change.