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She’s sacrificed everything . . .
Vivianne Blackstone has put life on hold for the sake of her world. Her company is tasked with building a prototype spaceship to protect Earth from the invading tribes. Over budget and behind schedule, Vivianne’s frustration mounts, and she personally pays a visit to her pet project.
She may have to sacrifice more . . .
Her frustration is only beginning, because the instant she meets her genius chief engineer, Jordan McArthur, Vivianne’s struck by a force she’s never known. She wants him—a man she’s just met. She needs him—a man she doesn’t even like. But this raging desire is so not normal. Jordan looks as if he’s seconds from tearing their clothes off. Clearly, Jordan is just as on edge, desperate to repress his need.
"Something’s . . . happening,” he said through gritted teeth.
"No . . .it’s . . . not.” Vivianne’s words were an agonized lie.
This was insane. Lust had obviously never pounded either of them like this. They were in danger. Earth was in danger. They might all die tomorrow. It didn’t matter. They had to have one another. Now.
Susan Kearney, a native of New Jersey, writes full time and has sold books to the industries' top publishing houses — Grand Central, Tor, Simon & Schuster, Harlequin, Bell Bridge Books, Berkley, Leisure, Red Sage, and Kensington. As an award winning author, Kearney earned a Business Degree from the University of Michigan. Kearney's knowledge and experience spans throughout the romance genre, and her fifty plus books include contemporary, romantic suspense, historical, futuristic, science fiction, and paranormal novels. She resides in a suburb of Tampa—with her husband, kids, and Boston terrier. Currently she's plotting her way through her 54th work of fiction.
Coming Soon!
Chapter 1
As we lay in the sweet grasses under the
constellation of Orion, I knew that what we had done was not so much lovemaking
as a release of an inexplicable act of passion.
—High Priestess of Avalon
"DAMN IT, JORDAN.
You lied to me.” Vivianne Blackstone, CEO of the Vesta Corporation, tapped the
incriminating report against her leg and restrained her urge to fling it at
Jordan McArthur, her chief engineer. The world was in a total meltdown after
learning an ancient enemy had infiltrated Earth’s governments and major industries,
and Vivianne was determined to keep her Draco Project safe.
Head throbbing,
she stared at the spaceship’s complex wiring. The Draco was the only ship of its kind, the most advanced spaceship
Earth had ever built, and she had to fly as planned. It had to work out. So
much was riding on this venture to find the lost and legendary Holy Grail.
Vesta’s future. Earth’s future. Her future. Everything she’d ever wanted,
everyone she’d ever loved, might be lost if this project didn’t succeed.
When Jordan didn’t
respond, she nudged his foot with her shoe. "I’m talking to you.”
Lying on the
deck with his head halfway through a hatch, Jordan shifted until she could just
see his intense blue eyes.
"I heard. How
did I lie to you?”
She dropped the
papers, but she’d already lost his attention to the ship. He’d wriggled back
inside the compartment, pulling another wire to hook into the circuits, no
doubt following an electrical schematic that existed only inside his head.
He threaded a
wire into a panel box of delicately networked circuits. "Pass me a
screwdriver.”
Scowling at his
back, she slapped the tool into his hand.
"Tell me these
findings are wrong,” Vivianne demanded.
"What findings?”
He didn’t so much as spare a glance at the folder she’d dropped. His profile, rugged
and somber, remained utterly still, except for a tiny tick in his jaw that told
her he was unhappy she’d interrupted his work.
"You’ve never
attended Harvard. Never got your PhD at MIT. Never taught at Cambridge.”
"The Phillips
head.” He held out his hand again, impatience lacing his voice. "It’s the
screwdriver with an X on the tip.”
Like she didn’t
know a Phillips head when she saw one? While her specialty was communications
technology, she’d designed and built her first hydrogen rocket by age twelve.
However, when it
came to spaceship design, Jordan was the go-to guy. Despite his doctored
resume, the man knew his aeronautical engineering. From hull design to antigrav
wiring, no detail on the Draco was
too small for Jordan to reengineer and make more efficient.
One of Jordan’s
engineers spoke over the ship’s intercom. "These voltage-converter equations
can’t be right.”
"They are,”
Jordan answered evenly.
"They’re frying
the circuits.” The man’s frustration was evident in his tone.
"Sean, you’ll
find a way to keep them humming. You always do.”
"I’m stumped.”
"I’ll give you a
hand as soon as I can.”
"Thanks, boss.”
"But I’m sure
you’ll figure it out before then.”
Sean chuckled.
"I’ll do my best.”
While this was a
side of Jordan she hadn’t seen, his easy relationship with his team didn’t
surprise her. But it wasn’t his leadership skills that she questioned.
Vivianne’s gut churned. "Jordan, we really need to talk.”
"So talk.”
Vivianne paused
and considered precisely what to say. She’d already made one mistake by hiring
Jordan before he’d been properly vetted. She couldn’t afford to make
another—like accusing him outright of being a spy for the planet’s worst enemy.
"The Draco is Earth’s first and only
spaceship that can carry a full crew to the stars.”
"So?”
"This ship has
caught the imagination and attention of the masses. Everything we do is under
intense scrutiny and makes headline news, and when the press finds out that my
chief engineer falsified his employment application—”
"Damn it,
Vivianne, I know what I’m doing.”
"To the public,
a liar is a liar. And if you lied to get a job, they’ll wonder what else you’ve
lied about. In these dangerous times, we can’t have our loyalty questioned.”
"So we don’t
tell anyone. Problem solved.”
Vivianne pinched
the bridge of her nose to ease her headache. "But if your lies come to light,
you don’t just lose your job, you ruin my credibility. My company’s reputation.
It could crash Vesta’s stock.”
Jordan threaded
one of myriad wires into a nexus of circuitry. "As long as this ship doesn’t
crash, your stock will be fine.”
She could handle
the business end. What she couldn’t handle was a traitor. Who was he? The PIs
she’d hired had found nothing on him back further than six months ago, when
he’d applied for a job with Vesta. His fingerprints and eye print weren’t on
file. He had no military record. No record of birth. With the entire planet on
the alert for alien moles, Jordan’s nonexistent background and his lies had her
suspicious as hell... and yet, she was good at reading
people.
Maybe his
brilliant blue eyes and intellect had fooled her. Hell, if she put his picture
on the news, the female half of the planet would fall in love at first sight
and forgive him anything. Mr. Dark, Tough, and Brilliant’s gorgeous face might
just sway the general population and perhaps her stockholders, as well. And she
needed his expertise badly enough to give him the chance to convince her he had
a damn good reason for his deception, before she called in the authorities.
"What other lies
have you told me?” she asked.
"Whatever would
get me this job.”
"Real inspiring.
Why didn’t you respond to the memo I sent last week?”
"If I spent all
my time reading your memos, how would I get anything done?”
Vivianne tried coming
at him with another tactic. Last week’s change orders had been over the
top—even for Jordan. "You’ve installed miles of wiring that aren’t in the
specs.”
"We’re ahead of
schedule, so why are you concerned?”
She frowned.
Before she’d known about his lies, she’d shrugged off his clever modifications.
But now she wondered if his alterations had been necessary. Or simply a sneaky
way to delay and undermine the entire project.
She’d tried to
hire theoreticians to double-check his work. But the specialists couldn’t keep
up, remaining bogged down in theory while Jordan had gone on to build working
prototypes. Now even his brilliance seemed suspicious. How did he know what he
knew? Where did he come from?
In a desperate
attempt to suppress her frustration, Vivianne reminded herself how far she’d
come. Peering at the Draco’s shiny
metal, she had difficulty believing they’d built this ship in just over three
months. Almost every system was a new design, and while the number of things
that could go wrong was infinite, she had high hopes for success.
"If the story of
your doctored credentials leaks, our client may get cold feet,” she explained.
"Chen won’t back
out.” Jordan sounded completely certain.
She didn’t
bother to keep the exasperation from her voice. "Billionaires willing to buy a
spaceship in order to search the galaxy for the Holy Grail aren’t a dime a
dozen.”
Jordan grunted.
"If Chen does
back out, I’ll have to refund his investment. And with the way you’ve been
spending, not even I have that much credit.”
"Down to your
last few billion, are you?” Jordan teased without glancing in her direction.
She clenched her
fists in irritation. "That’s not the point.” She wished he’d trust her with the
truth. Maybe he would if she reassured him. Because in truth, the government
had gone a bit overboard looking for alien moles. As far as she knew, they
hadn’t found even one. "Maybe we can break the news, spin it in our favor.” She
pictured an advantageous story. Something like "Genius engineer discovered.”
"The article
could praise you and some little-known college. I’ll have my PR department put
together a package.”
"Not a good
idea.”
His blue eyes
glittered dangerously, and his response made her uneasy. Something wasn’t
right. He should be grateful that she was willing to fix the publicity
nightmare he’d created. Instead he was acting like a man with something else to
hide. But what? Was he here to damage her ship? But if so, why would he work
day and night to build it? Why give them all his marvelous inventions?
She needed more
information. She’d hire new PIs. Dig deeper and watch him more closely.
"Do you always
make contingencies for contingencies?” he asked.
She snorted.
Orphaned at age ten, Vivianne had become a ward of the state. Control became
her lifeline. She’d used her obsession to earn herself a first-class education
and to build a successful small business into a worldwide conglomerate.
The downside of
running a huge company, however, was that she had to rely on others. Brilliant
engineers like Jordan didn’t give a damn about her minute-to-minute
expectations. He got the job done—but he certainly didn’t do things her way.
But was his
allegiance to Vesta, the Draco, and
Earth? Why wasn’t he trying to reassure her?
"In your case, I
haven’t planned enough.”
Jordan rubbed
his ear and stood, reminding her just how tall and broad he was. But if he was
attempting to use his size to intimidate her, he’d learn she didn’t back down.
"What do you
want me to do?” he asked. "You have someone else who can build the Draco on budget and under deadline?” He
didn’t wait for her reply. Why would he? They both knew the answer was no.
"Where did you
go to school?”
Jordan shrugged.
"Here and there.”
Her blood
pressure shot up ten digits, but she did her best to keep her temper under control.
"Could you be a little more specific?”
He shot her an
unapologetic smile that was way too charming. "I’m pretty much self-taught.”
Hell. She needed
more than a damn charming smile to convince her he hadn’t been educated on
another planet. That he wasn’t a spy.
"You don’t have
a PhD?”
He didn’t
answer.
Vivianne
reminded herself that she’d dealt with many difficult situations in the last
few years. She’d funded archeologist Lucan Roarke’s risky mission to a moon
named Pendragon to find the Holy Grail. While he hadn’t brought back the Grail,
he had found a cure for Earth’s infertility problem.
Vivianne stared
at the scales on the inside of her wrists. Like one-tenth of the population,
she now had two hearts and could shapeshift into a dragon and fly.
Too bad her new
genes hadn’t increased her intelligence. How could Jordan have fooled her so
easily? More important, what was he hiding? "What about job experience?”
"Nothing
verifiable.”
"I suppose you
fudged the glowing recommendations, too?” Her pulse pounded, and she massaged
her aching temple. Was Jordan her ally or her enemy? "Who are you?”
"You might want
to take an aspirin—”
"Thank you,
doctor.” Her sarcasm escaped unchecked. "Oh, excuse me, you aren’t a doctor of
anything, are you?”
"I don’t need a
medical degree to see that your head hurts and you’re taking it out on me.” His
tone was calm, low, and husky, and that she found it sexy irked her even more.
"So now you’re a
shrink.”
He’d barely
glanced at her before turning to work on his beloved circuits, but it was so
like him to notice details, even her wincing in pain.
Vivianne willed
Jordan to turn around. "How did you do it? It’s as if you appeared in Barcelona
six months ago. Until then, you had no credit. You attended no schools. Even
your birth records are fake. I can’t find anyone who knew you before you walked
into my office to apply for a job.”
"And you’ve
never regretted it.”
"Until now.”
Damn him.
"You don’t mean
that.” Jordan shrugged again. "You don’t regret letting me design this ship.”
Vivianne hadn’t
built up her company by allowing handsome men to sweet-talk her into trusting
them or by ignoring urgent government warnings that alien agents may have
infiltrated her company. Both Vivianne and the Tribes were after the Grail, but
her goal was to save Earth, theirs was to enslave it. And according to legend,
whoever possessed the Grail held the upper hand. So it was very possible that
the reason her chief engineer had faked his past was because he was a spy—for
the Tribes.
She couldn’t put
Earth’s future into Jordan’s hands until she knew more. Feeling sick to her
stomach, Vivianne’s tone snapped with authority. "Jordan, put down your tools.
You can’t work on the Draco until
security clears you.”
In typical
Jordan fashion, he kept right on working. "Don’t you want to see if the new
engine’s going to work?”
"We’ll
straighten that out later.” Her temper flared because Jordan knew just how to
pique her interest. From the get-go, the engines had been a major issue. It
almost broke her hearts to know that the Dracomight never fly now that she was pulling him off the project.
"I’m about ready
to test a new power source.”
His words teased
her curiosity as much as they raised her suspicions anew. "What are you talking
about? What new power source?”
"The Ancient
Staff.” Jordan reached to a sheath he wore on his belt and drew out an object
that resembled a tree branch with symbols carved into the bark. When he flicked
his wrist, the rod telescoped and expanded with a metallic click.
Oh, God. Had he
just unsheathed an alien weapon? The air around the Staff glittered like heat
reflecting off hot pavement. It was if the Staff folded and compressed the
space around it, the eerie effect and haze continuously rippling outward.
She peered at
Jordan. The cords in his neck were tight, his broad shoulders tense as if he
were bracing for her reaction.
She tried to
tamp down a pinch of panic. "Don’t move.”
He turned to
place the staff into position. "The Ancient Staff will supply far more power to
the Draco’s engines than a cosmic
converter.”
That Staff
wasn’t in the plans. She’d never even heard of the mysterious artifact. For all
she knew, that power source was alien technology and once he attached it to theDraco, they’d all blow up.
Hiring Jordan
had been a gigantic mistake. One that might cost Earth...
everything. Unnerved, she reached for her handheld communicator to call
security, but there was no time. It would take only a second for him to snap
the Ancient Staff into the housing.
She’d have to
stop him herself. "Turn it off.”
"The Staff
doesn’t have an off switch.”
Stiffening, she
forced authority into her tone. "Don’t attach that thing to my ship.”
"It’s meant to—”
"I said no.”
Mouth dry with apprehension, she clamped her hand on his shoulder.
Before she could
yank him back, Jordan snapped the rod into place. The anxiety she’d been
holding back knotted in her stomach. Sweat broke out on her brow, and her
nerves stretched taut.
But controlling
her fear was the least of her worries as the air around the rod shimmered, then
spread up his arm.
Voice trembling,
she asked, "What type of energy is this?”
"The powerful
kind.”
"The engines can
deal with that kind of power?”
"I hope so.”
Energy crawled
all the way up his arm and stretched toward her hand. Terrified, she tried to
jerk back, but her body refused to obey her mind. Her feet wouldn’t move. Her
fingers might as well have been frozen.
Panicked, she
watched the glow of energy flow over his shoulder to her hand. Every hair on
the back of her neck standing on end, she braced for pain. But when the glowing
energy engulfed her fingers and washed up her arm, then sluiced over her body,
the tingling sensation somehow banished her headache and expelled her fear.
The effect was
instantaneous and undeniable. Her breasts tingled. Her skin flamed as if they’d
spent the past fifteen minutes engaging in foreplay rather than arguing over
his nonexistent past. She’d always found Jordan attractive, but now it was as
if the Staff had turned on a switch inside her.
She swallowed
thickly. If he was feeling the same effects, he wasn’t showing it.
Every centimeter
of her skin was demanding to be stroked. Unwarranted sensations exploded all
over her erogenous zones. Her nipples tightened, exquisitely sensitized. The
scales on the insides of her arms and legs fluttered. Sweet juice seeped
between her thighs.
Drenched in pure
lust, she shook her head, trying to clear it. "What the hell is going on?”
"Don’t know.”
Jordan practically growled, as if it took superhuman effort just to speak.
So he felt as
totally, inexplicably aroused as she did. Obviously, he wasn’t handling it
well, either, but that didn’t stop desire from rushing through all her senses.
She craved him
like a starving dragon needs platinum, yet this could not be. Not without an
emotional connection. She didn’t do chemistry. She didn’t do one-nighters. She
didn’t crave a man she barely knew, a man who was very likely a traitor.
But there was no
fighting or denying the potent passion that blazed within her. Sexual need burned
into her flesh, smoldered through her blood, the sensations fiery hot.
If she didn’t
have sex in the next few seconds, she was certain she would spontaneously
combust.
Beneath her
hand, Jordan’s shoulder tensed. Mouth tight and grim, he turned and faced her
head-on, those blue eyes seemingly searching into her soul. Tingling and
breathless, she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. Heaven help her, she
wanted him. It was a terrible thing to lose control over her own desire, to
crave sex with a man she didn’t trust, but she could no more stop what was
going to happen than she could prevent a hurricane.
Jordan was
clearly caught in the same sexual firestorm. Eyes flashing with a primal
blue-ringed flame, he focused on her with a fevered intensity, right before he
crashed his hard mouth down on hers, his kiss so demanding he bruised her lips
and her hearts jolted.
Wrapping her
arms around him, she arched her back and thrust her breasts against his chest.
She ground her hips into his straining sex.
Lips locking,
they ripped off their clothes. His flesh was smooth, muscled, male. She
couldn’t breathe enough of his scent into her lungs. She couldn’t touch enough
of his warm bronzed flesh to satisfy her cravings.
All coiled
tension, he backed her against a bulkhead and she could see desire flash in his
eyes, hear the sexual rasp in his breathing.
Wrapping her
arms over his powerful shoulders and around his corded neck, she clamped her
legs around his sturdy hips. And she attacked him like a savage, with lips and
nails and teeth, while his strong hands clenched her bottom and he lifted her
onto his straining sex.
She took him
inside her, greeting his fullness with molten heat. She was burning, going up
in flames. Nothing mattered—not her suspicions, not this raging spark of need
that neither of them had kindled—nothing mattered, except having him.
When she
squeezed her thighs, he groaned and pumped into her hard, deep, and fast. With
cold steel at her back, his warm male flesh sliding over her and his sex thrusting
in and out, she couldn’t get enough friction, couldn’t draw in enough air,
couldn’t think past the mind-jarring explosion.
Powerful
sensations, inexplicable pleasure swept her into a vortex of energy that took
him over the edge with her. The pleasure was too extreme. No way could she hang
on to consciousness.
