Holding Fire Read online

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

  Copyright © 2017 by April Schwartz

  Cover photography by Claudio Marinesco

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner

  Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

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  twitter.com/foreverromance

  First Mass Market Edition: March 2017

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  ISBNs: 978-1-4555-3948-2 (mass market), 978-1-4555-3949-9 (ebook), 978-1-4789-4117-0 (audiobook, downloadable)

  Printed in the United States of America

  E3-20170111-DA-NF

  Contents

  Cover

  Book Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  A Preview of HARD JUSTICE

  About the Author

  Acclaim for April Hunt’s Novels

  Also by April Hunt

  Fall in Love with Forever Romance

  To Mom—the reason that I’ve become the strong, independent woman that I am today

  Acknowledgments

  So many people go into the process of writing a book, and it starts at home. My children remind me every day that there isn’t a limit on what you can do—and that when faced with a challenge, you should only try that much harder. To my family, who’ve supported me and showered me with encouragement from the time I said, “I want to write a book”: Thank you for believing in me!

  Sarah E. Younger, my southern-belle agent with a spine of steel. You’re my champion, my listening ear, my dream-maker, and sometimes, my therapist. There’s no way I could navigate all this without you. I’m so glad that I have you in my corner every step of the way! Go #TeamSarah!

  Madeleine, my patient, soothing editor—you have a habit of reading my mind even though we’re hundreds of miles apart, and I’m so glad that I have you on my side, loving my characters as much as I do. Thank you to everyone at Forever. You’re all amazing, from the beautiful covers you design to the support you give through social media.

  Ever since I picked up my “pen,” I’ve met so many wonderful, supportive people. People whom I’ve met online have become real, truly amazing friends—like my #girlswritenight crew—Tif Marcelo, Rachel Lacey, Sidney Halston, and Annie Rains. Our late night nudges are the best. You ladies rock!

  To my beta readers for Holding Fire, Leslie and Nicole—thank you so much for taking time out of your own busy writing schedules to help me mold Elle and Trey into who they are today.

  And thank you to my readers…for Alpha-ing Up and joining me—and my characters—on this wild ride.

  Chapter One

  A quick tinge of panic held Elle Monroe’s breath hostage. Her gaze shifted from the masculine, tattooed arm draped over her waist to the door on the other side of the dimly lit room—a ten-foot distance. Maybe fifteen.

  It might as well have been a mile-long obstacle course complete with rotating floorboards and mud pits when it came to crossing the distance without detection. And that was exactly what needed to be done—and sooner rather than later. Once she got back to her own hotel room, she could figure out why it had taken her nearly thirty years to experience the best sex of her life.

  With a ridiculously sexy stranger.

  In a rural Thailand bar.

  To be more accurate, the sex happened in Trey’s room above the bar, repeatedly and with such vigor that her face flushed with each mental replay of the last six hours. Mouths. Hands. Naked, sweaty bodies. He’d worn her out to the point that she’d passed out cold—and woken up feeling way too trapped for comfort.

  “Trying to plot the best escape route?” a deep voice rumbled behind Elle’s shoulder, low and husky with the perfect amount of gravel thrown into the mix. Trey With-No-Last-Name drew her deeper into his embrace until her back met his massive wall of a chest. “I heard your breathing change so I know you’re awake. Are you going to answer my question or keep pretending you’re sleeping?”

  “No. Yes. I mean…crap.” Elle’s heart climbed higher into her throat. This is what happens when you develop a rebellious streak seventeen years past puberty.

  “No, you’re not escaping; yes, to feigning sleep; and crap to answering questions? Is that what you’re saying or am I not following at all?” His mouth brushed against the curve of her neck, conjuring a trail of goose bumps.

  Between his spicy musk filling her head and the brush of his morning wood against her left butt cheek, Elle didn’t know what she was saying anymore. It was as if her mouth wasn’t attached to her brain.

  Trey skated his wide-palmed hand over her hip and gently guided her onto her back.

  Don’t look. Don’t look.

  She looked.

  Propped up on one forearm and staring down at her, Trey granted her the prime opportunity to ogle every hill and valley of his impressive body. And it was definitely impressive. His chest, broad and covered with just the right amount of hair, couldn’t have been sculpted more perfectly if done by an artist. Covering his right shoulder and arm, a colorful sleeve of tattoos contrasted his bed-rumpled short blonde hair in a sexy, bad-boy-meets-golden-boy combination.

  Wicked intent gleamed from the emerald depths of his eyes, and when his attention momentarily dropped to her mouth? Forget it. The man could cause an epidemic of wet panties with a five-second glance. Not even her ex-fiancé had affected her on such a primal level. Of course, James Worth didn’t do a lot of things, including travel anywhere that didn’t have a five-star hotel with a masseuse on speed dial. That, along with an arm’s length of other reasons, was why they never would’ve worked.

  “Look…Trey.” Elle winced at the movie-script c
liché about to come out of her mouth. “Last night was nice. Really, it was, but—”

  “Nice?” Trey’s lips twitched with a forming grin. “Damn. You really know how to inflate a man’s ego, don’t you?”

  “Somehow I don’t think you need help in that department.”

  He traced the ridge of her collarbone. “Maybe not, but last night was a hell of a lot more than nice. It was fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Well, that was a different way to say incredible. And he was right. It was a lot more. She supposed if a woman was going to have sex with a stranger, it should at least be memorable, and Trey definitely ensured that. But in the light of a new day, she needed to get back to her regularly scheduled life—or as much of it as she was willing to resurrect.

  “Look, I get it,” he said first, stopping her upcoming platitude by palming her cheek. “When I came to Thailand, I sure as fuck didn’t expect to meet—much less take to bed—a gorgeous blonde, but I did, and it was—”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic?” Elle repeated his earlier sentiment.

  His intense green eyes flashed. “Exactly. So why do I get the feeling that you’re itching to make a break for the door?”

  Because she was.

  Ever since she’d wiped her hands of the nonsense back home—specifically, with James and her father—she’d vowed not to get invested in any one man or relationship. That meant no planning romantic futures. No dating. And no falling asleep after fan-fucking-tastic sex—except she’d already broken that rule, and the consequence was literally staring her in the face.

  Elle gripped the starchy bedsheet to her chest like a flotation device and slid out of the bed. “I’ve got to go.”

  Trey’s blonde eyebrows shot up. “Wait. Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I have a best friend to assure that I’m not lying dead in a ditch somewhere and a plane to catch.” She expertly avoided direct eye contact with the man, who was watching her every move as she tucked a found shoe beneath her arm. “I’m sure you know how this kind of thing goes.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Trey agreed in a slow drawl, “but I never thought I’d be the recipient of the morning dodge.”

  “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Trey slowly rose from the bed, as naked and proud as when they’d fallen into it hours ago. The man really was gorgeous from top to bottom. Elle’s gaze strolled lazily up from his muscled legs and over his perfectly chiseled abs. Before him, she’d lumped men with countable abs right up there with flying purple unicorns.

  Trey caught her admiring glance. His mouth slid into a naughty grin as he reached for his pants and pulled them on—sans boxers. “I’m sure it happens to some guys, but not to me.”

  Elle rolled her eyes despite the fact that it was probably true, and resumed her clothing search. “I’ll consider it an honor to be your first because as soon as I find my panties, I’m going to be on my way.”

  “You mean these?” Her polka-dot bikini briefs hung from the end of his finger.

  “Yes, those.” She grabbed the dangling panties, but before she stepped back, his tattooed arm slinked around her waist and brought her flush against his sweat-dampened body.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice going breathy. Dammit…why did this man make her feel like she was walking a high-wire? “Seriously, Trey. I need to get out of here.”

  “Why?”

  His question took her by surprise. Following her breakup with James, Elle had had exactly two brief flings—one during a crazy, best-friend-sponsored beach vacation nearly immediately post-breakup; the other a temporary benefits arrangement with one of the clinic doctors. They had enjoyed each other’s company and then parted ways. No sleeping. No cuddling. No overdrawn conversations. And neither of them had ever asked why.

  “Why what?” she asked carefully.

  “Why are you running out of here like the building’s on fire?” Trey clarified.

  “Why is knowing so important to you? Or are you just upset that I beat you to the punch?”

  Trey’s mouth tightened into a thin line. Sore spot touched. “Yeah, I’ve had sex. A lot it. And I’m not going to deny that I’ve participated in my fair share of morning dodges. Actually, it used to be pretty fucking routine.”

  “You don’t need to explain anything to me. Honest.”

  “I really think I do—because I’m trying to tell you that I haven’t been that man for a while now. I’m fucking routine-less.”

  Elle gave his chest a reassuring pat and prayed her forced smile didn’t broadcast the nerves flipping her stomach upside down. “It’s sweet of you to try to paint what happened here as something more than it was, but I came upstairs with you without any kind of expectations.”

  “Then I guess that makes one of us.”

  His stern tone took Elle by surprise. Most men would’ve sunk to their knees in relieved gratitude that their latest one-night stand wasn’t going to turn into a clingy stalker, but Trey almost looked…pissed.

  She shimmied from his hold and nearly tripped over her feet in a world-record rush to collect the rest of her belongings. Then, finally dressed and more than ready to get back to reality, she turned and nearly came nose-to-chest with Trey.

  “Jesus. What are you, a freaking ninja?” Elle asked, startled.

  He’d gotten closer without her realizing, his laser-beam stare drilling into her from inches away. When he took a step closer, she reflexively took one back, and they repeated the dance until her back hit the wall.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, but not in fear. Even after only twelve hours together, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He leaned into her space until his muscled arms caged her in. Heat radiated off him in waves, and her body soaked it up, wanting to fall back into bed with him in the worst way. That intensity was what had drawn her to him in the first place; ironically, it was also what fueled her need to escape.

  Trey brushed his lips down the curve of her neck as he spoke, the sensation making her work to fight off a whimper. “If your plan is to walk away and not look back, why not stick around and enjoy it a little longer?”

  Because of her sanity. After hours in his company, she didn’t know the difference between left and right, and probably wouldn’t even if she held both hands out in front of her to look for the magic “L.”

  “Because I really do have a plane to catch.” She plied him with the half-truth.

  Her first six-month assignment as head nurse for the medical relief outfit Caring Hands had come to an end, and it was time to figure out what came next. Most likely it would be another community in need, but until the orders came across her desk, it was girl-time with her best friend.

  “Elle.” Trey’s soft murmur was interrupted by the inward burst of the room’s lone window.

  Shards of glass and wood chunks rained down on their heads. Shouts echoed from the busy street outside. More things crashed. And then a Mack truck knocked Elle to the ground.

  Breathless and dazed, it took a second to realize the Mack truck was Trey’s half-naked body…and to recognize the rolling tap-taps coming from the busy street below.

  “Is that—” she started to ask.

  “Gunfire,” Trey grumbled. “Stay here.”

  He returned to his feet, moving with a speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a man his size. Back against the wall, he skirted the room’s perimeter until he neared the broken window.

  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “What the hell are you doing? Are you freaking crazy? Stay down!”

  “You stay down, Elle. I mean it. Don’t fucking move.” He looked out to the street and cursed under his breath before producing a cell phone from his pants pocket. After one press of a button, he was talking to someone on the other end, but thanks to a new series of gunshots, only every fourth word or so reached her ears. When he finished the call, she was just climbing to her feet.

  He picked up her dropped purse and tucked it back into her arms. “We
’re going to get you out of here. Do you have your passport with you or is it back at your hotel?”

  “It’s with me, but—”

  “Good. Then we’ll get you on the next bus out of town.”

  Leaving sounded better by the minute, but Elle didn’t take directives well, probably because she’d lived her whole life being subjected to them. “I don’t know how you were raised, but I’m not leaving my best friend to deal with whatever’s happening out there by herself. Besides, who died and made you my travel agent?”

  Agitation flashed in his green eyes. This time when her back hit the wall, she wasn’t so sure what he’d do.

  The rigid angle of his jaw flexed with tension. “I appointed myself your travel agent when trigger-happy yahoos drove into town and started shooting the place up. Are you seriously going to fight me on this, sweetness?”

  “Are you seriously going caveman on me, sweetness?”

  “If that’s what it’s going to take to make sure you’re safe, then yes. I’ll pull my club out of the fucking closet and throw your sweet ass over my shoulder—whatever it takes.”

  The door to the room burst open, nearly cracking in half. Trey was in front of her in an instant, blocking her from the giant man standing in the doorway. Head-shaven and mountainous with tattoos decorating both arms, he looked mean, lethal—and armed.

  Only when the stranger registered Trey’s presence did he lower his gun, and just barely. “What the fuck, man? You in here napping while shit’s going down?”

  “What exactly is going down?” Trey asked.

  “Hell if I know.” The two men’s familiar banter did little to comfort Elle when Trey’s friend slipped his attention her way. He scanned her from head to toe and back, taking in her very bed-rumbled appearance, and gave the barest of head-shakes. “It’s a fucking epidemic.”

  “Shut it, Vince,” Trey growled. He shifted his stance, the move showcasing the gun clenched in his hand.

  Well, crap.

  While both men were distracted, she shimmied past the walking mountain. “I’ve obviously stumbled into something here, and you two look like you need time alone to talk, so I’m going to make myself scarce.”