Secrets and Satin: A MacKenzie Novel (Romantic Suspense) (MacKenzie Family) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  Two Years Ago…

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Jade Jax stared at herself in the mirror—wide green eyes tinged with a hint of shock and panic. She knew if she didn’t practice saying the words aloud, she’d never get them out when it was time to do it for real. So much for birth control.

  Nausea rolled through her and she gritted her teeth and breathed out slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. Her face was pale and clammy, and she’d become good friends with the end stall in the ladies’ room in the Department of Justice building over the past three weeks.

  “Dammit.” She raced into the stall and emptied what was left in her stomach. It was only vaguely annoying she’d been in there often enough to notice one of the floor tiles was cracked in the shape of the Virgin Mary. Mostly it just reminded her she needed to pray. Then maybe she could put something in her stomach without it reappearing again.

  She stumbled back to the sink and splashed cold water onto her face, and then she wetted a few paper towels and let the cold trickle down the middle of her breasts. She had to pull herself together. There were less than two hours until go time. The next mission was an important one, and Max wouldn’t let her go if he thought she was sick—even if it was her husband they were going to be extracting.

  Donovan had been in deep cover inside Alexander Ramos’s organization for the last eighteen months. It was a dangerous job—a job she’d begged him not to take. They’d fought over it for weeks, but in the end she’d lost the battle. Donovan felt he was the right man for the job—the only person who could infiltrate the organization and pass on vital information to the DEA. And the hard part was accepting he was right. He was a good man, a good agent, and justice would always be more important than his safety. Falling in love with a hero was hell.

  Their time together over the last year and a half had been sparse—stolen weekends in remote locations where they hadn’t wasted time talking and instead fallen straight into bed. When you added it up, they’d actually been apart longer than they’d been married. It had been four weeks since she’d seen him last—four weeks since they’d made love. And made a baby.

  Her hand went to her stomach protectively. Maybe this baby was a sign. She and the rest of the team were flying down to extract Donovan from Mexico. The assignment had gotten too dangerous, and Ramos was beginning to suspect some of his top men of betraying him. More than one body of his known lieutenants had been found—at least what had been left of them.

  Don’t think about it. He’s coming home.

  The DEA had enough information to begin the process of ending Ramos’s reign forever. Donovan would come home, and they could be a family without threats or danger hanging over their heads at every turn. In fact, maybe it was time to turn in her badge and her weapon. The past ten years felt more like fifty, and the weight of the world was getting awfully heavy—not to mention the rifle she had to use much too frequently.

  The more she thought about it, the more she knew it was the right decision. Max would throw a fit, but he could find another agent to replace her. The child growing inside of her couldn’t grow up without a mother if anything happened to her.

  Jade patted her face dry with a towel and slapped her cheeks for a little color. She had a mission to prepare for, and it was the most important mission of her life. Donovan was coming home.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said one last time to the mirror. This time she couldn’t help but smile.

  ***

  The DEA offices were on the fifth floor of the Department of Justice building, and she headed down the long gray corridor to her small office. They were supposed to meet at 14:30 for a briefing before the plane took off. She had just enough time to change clothes and check her weapons one final time.

  Her office was a small square dominated by a metal desk. The floors were gray industrial grade carpet and the walls were stark white. A bookshelf stood in the corner, and the shelves bowed under the weight of books—anything from non-fiction to thrillers to the romances she kept on the bottom shelf so the guys wouldn’t give her a hard time. She spent more time at work than home anyway, so it made sense to have the things she enjoyed close by. A green plant flourished on the corner of her desk, and pictures sat on every free surface. It was a cramped and overflowing space, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. It was hers. And having things that belonged solely to her was something she’d learned to treasure.

  Jade pulled her pack from the bottom drawer of her desk and changed into black cargo pants and a long sleeved black T-shirt. She pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall around her shoulders, brushing it out quickly before pulling it back in a ponytail. Maybe it was time to cut it short. She wouldn’t want to deal with the hassle of long hair when the baby was born.

  Jade checked the magazine in her Sig and pocketed another two, but her pride and joy was in the long black case under her desk. She pulled it out and set it on top of her desk, flicking open the locks with her thumbs and pushing back the lid. The M-40A3 rifle gleamed back at her—the black so smooth and polished she could see her reflection in it.

  The knock on her door had her yelling out, “Enter,” and she closed the lid on the case with a snap.

  She knew something was wrong the moment Max stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Max was a good boss and a great agent, and she knew his responsibility weighed heavily on him. He truly cared about his agents, and he’d flip his middle finger to the bureaucrats and politicians if it meant those under his command were going to get screwed. There weren’t many she’d trust to watch her back if things went to shit, but he was one of them.

  But the Max she’d worked with the last few years was almost unrecognizable in the man who stood before her. His face was drawn and his eyes shadowed with grief. His hair was disheveled as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and his normally impeccable clothes were wrinkled—his tie shoved in his pocket and the collar of his shirt unbuttoned.

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice was foreign to her ears. Her palms slicked with sweat and her lungs felt as if they were bursting in her chest. Somewhere deep inside she knew—knew that whatever Max had to say would break her.

  She wiped her palms on her pants and shook her head, coming around the desk to face him head on.

  “Jade,” he said. And she knew. She knew Donovan was dead, as if someone had flicked a switch off inside of her.

  “No, you’re wrong.” Her soul was splintering into pieces and he expected her to just believe him, without proof. “You’ll see. We can leave early and go get him. We’ll do the extraction and you’ll see he’s okay. We’ll bring him home.” Her voice rose higher and higher as panic took over. She was trained to never panic—to breathe deep and keep her focus. But she couldn’t do it this time. She just couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry, Jade.” Max reached out for her, but she moved back, knocking the picture frame from her desk to the floor. Glass crunched beneath her feet, and she bent down to salvage what was left of her weddi
ng photo.

  Glass sliced at her finger and blood welled instantly, but she pulled the picture from the shards and held it against her breast.

  “No,” she said again. “No, no, no. It’s just a misunderstanding. I want to talk to our contacts in Mexico. I want someone to go in and bring him out now. If he’s in danger, then we don’t need to waste a minute.”

  Max knelt down beside her and held her trembling hands. The blood from the cut on her finger welled faster, soaking into the white cuff of his shirt.

  “He’s gone, Jade.” His voice cracked, and he had to swallow a couple of times before he could go on. “I’ve spent the last three hours trying to cut through red tape and lies to get the answers I needed. Let me get this out,” he said. “You know I have to say the words.”

  She shook her head, but it didn’t stop him from speaking. “I’m sorry for your loss. Donovan Jax was killed in the line of duty.”

  “I said no!” she screamed. Her fist connected with the side of his face before she could control it, as if someone else had taken over her body. She scrambled away, knocking over one of the folding chairs she had against the wall. Her hip hit the corner of her desk, but the pain didn’t penetrate.

  “Get out, get out!” Tears clouded her vision, but she grabbed the first thing she saw—the plant in the ceramic pot—and threw it at his head. Max dodged and got to his feet, but he didn’t try to stop the storm brewing inside of her. The look of sympathy on his face only made the tears fall faster. God, she never cried. Not when she’d been shuffled from one foster home to the next and not when a bullet had pierced her flesh.

  The door to her office opened and worried faces peeked in.

  “Get out,” Max said, and they closed the door with a snap.

  Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he was still and silent, letting her rage around him until there was nothing left inside of her but despair. Her breath heaved in and out of her lungs and she let her arms hang down at her side as a sudden weakness seemed to overtake her. Her head dropped down and a chill settled over her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably.

  “I want to see him,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need to see him.”

  “Oh, baby,” Max said, coming toward her. She let him gather her close, so her head rested on his shoulder. He was grieving too. She could feel the fine tremors coursing through his body. Max and Donovan had been close—as close as most brothers. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Max. I don’t care about the red tape or expense reports. I want his body brought back here. I need to see him.”

  His arms wrapped tight around her and he buried his head against her shoulder. She felt the heat of his tears against her neck, and she tightened her own hold around him, trying to comfort the both of them.

  “I can’t, Jade.” He paused for a few seconds. “There’s nothing left of him to bring home.”

  Something broke inside of her—an agony that started in her womb and ripped and clawed its way through her body. She would have doubled over if Max hadn’t been holding her upright. Liquid rushed between her thighs and the coppery scent of blood filled the air.

  She tried to scream, but the pain had taken control of her body, rendering her useless.

  “Jade!” Max cried out, catching her as her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

  She’d lived through unspeakable tragedy in her life—the death of her parents when she was a child, the loss of friends she’d worked and served with, wounds, betrayal, and the loss of her husband—a man she’d loved with everything she’d had to give. But she’d never wanted to die before—not until she lost the only piece of Donovan she had left—the child she’d already imagined to have Donovan’s wide grin and her green eyes.

  Now there was nothing but blackness as the pain lessened and a cold numbness filled her body. In the back of her mind she thought she heard Max yelling something, calling her name, but she ignored it and embraced the cold. A smile touched her lips when she saw Donovan’s face—one last time.

  ***

  Six Months Later…

  His body hurt. Everywhere.

  It felt like his brain was caught in quicksand—his every thought disappearing into darkness just when he thought he finally had a good hold. He remembered being in Mexico with the team, on the search and rescue for Darcy MacKenzie. And he remembered looking into the black eyes of Alexander Ramos just before Ramos pulled the trigger and hit Max in the leg as he dived to the side. The bullet had burned like fire, and he’d felt the crack of bone as the bullet lodged in his thigh. The last thing Max remembered was Ramos’s arm around Darcy’s throat and the gun in his hand pointed right at Max’s head. He hadn’t even had time to pray before everything went dark.

  But, God, had there been pain. Pain that pulsed and tore inside his body and sat heavy on his chest like cinder blocks so he could only scream in his head. His arms and legs were mired in the quicksand and the pain built and burned inside him until he wondered if he was in hell.

  He didn’t know how long he spent there—days—weeks—eternity. But he yearned for the one person who soothed his pain like a balm. When she came, her voice cut through the fire in his head, and her touch eased the confusion and fear that crept up on him when the darkness came again. He’d latch onto her words, though he couldn’t always understand her, and he’d hold out hope that he’d one day get to see her again.

  It was foolish, really. Jade Jax didn’t belong to him. She’d never belonged to him. But a man who’d experienced death could be nothing if not honest with himself. He’d wanted her from the first moment she and Donovan had been transferred to his team, and he’d been envious of the obvious love between the two of them. He would have hated Donovan just on principle if he hadn’t been such a good guy. So he’d been a friend to them both and kept his feelings to himself.

  And then when Donovan died, he hadn’t given the job of breaking the news to Jade to someone else. To another female agent or to a doctor or the chaplain. He’d felt he’d needed to do it himself, and his need to be the one to comfort her had cost her everything. She had every right to hate him. But she kept coming back to soothe his pain just when he started to lose hope again.

  Then one day the quicksand around his limbs wasn’t so heavy and the fire in his head died down to a simmer. And she was there again. Only this time her words were clear.

  “Don’t die on me, Max,” she said, rubbing soothing circles in his palm with her thumb. “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had. Though I wouldn’t admit it to Donovan if he were still alive. You know how he liked to try and protect me instead of letting me do my job.”

  He couldn’t say he blamed Donovan for being overly protective. He’d do the same thing in Donovan’s position. Warmth covered him like a blanket at the sincerity in her words. She didn’t hate him. She wanted him to live. He wanted to squeeze her hand, but his hand wasn’t obeying what his mind was telling it. But it was close—so close.

  “You’re going to miss out on the fun stuff if you stay in here too long. Declan has big plans for all of us. There are changes coming.”

  Interesting. And cryptic. Did that mean Declan had gotten the backing he’d petitioned for? Only a select few of them knew of Declan MacKenzie’s plan to open a separate agency and fulfill off-the-books government contracts.

  Her hand brushed his hair back from his face, and he wanted to nuzzle against her, to soak in the warmth she brought everywhere she went.

  “Just—just don’t die on me,” she said. “I don’t think I could go through it again. I’m not strong enough.”

  She squeezed his hand and then he knew she was gone because the emptiness made him cold once more. But he didn’t return to the blackness he’d been mired in. His thoughts were clear and tingles pricked at his fingers and toes.

  He believed in a higher power, and if this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was. Jade was his light. The person who’d brought him back
from the brink of death. And she belonged to him. It could take months or years. He didn’t care. He’d wait patiently and bide his time. A gift like her wasn’t meant to be rushed.

  Max felt the heaviness of sleep weigh down on him, but he didn’t fear it this time. It was only sleep. And just before he dropped off, he thanked God for giving him a second chance to love Jade.

  ***

  Three months later…

  “Come on, Devlin,” Jade said. “Ten more reps.”

  “I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t get out of my face,” Max said. Sweat soaked his skin and his leg was on fire. He was in a pisser of a mood, but nothing he could say or do would budge Jade.

  “You can certainly try. But that old guy over there looks like he could take you. You’ve really let yourself go. Too many Cheetos and General Hospital marathons. Eight more reps.”

  “I know how many more fucking reps I have. I can count.”

  He hated this. Hated that his leg felt as new and uncoordinated as a newborn’s. He hated that he had to use a walker or crutches just to go anywhere. At least he was out of the godforsaken wheelchair, but he wasn’t much better off. He couldn’t drive or go back to work. He was useless.

  “I know that look,” she said, getting right into his face. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself again.”

  Max hadn’t expected Jade to dedicate herself to seeing him through rehab. They were friends—they’d always been friends—but Donovan had been the glue between them. Or that’s what he’d always thought. Maybe he’d tried to keep that barrier between them because she was definitely in the “off limits” category. But loyalty meant something to Jade, and she’d picked him up from his house and driven him to rehab three days a week for the last two months, and she’d stood in front of him yelling encouragement and taunts in equal measures.