Chapter 1
Being invisible had definite advantages - slipping in and
out of rebel compounds, stealing enemy technology and
weapons, and listening in on private conversations, to
name a few. But none, not one, proved more beneficial,
more gratifying, more freaking hot, than watching Rachel
Monroe dress in this church, undetected.
Tristan Jacobs ducked around the full-length mirror to
get a better angle. His conscience told him he should be
shot for standing there ogling Aidan’s sister. His former
BUD/S teammate and swim buddy, Aidan Monroe, had saved
his life once upon a time, and Tristan owed him.
Or, had owed him - until last night.
Living with the ability to see himself but not be seen by
others had made Tristan’s job so much easier. He could
honestly say this was the first time he had used his
ability for personal, unscrupulous gain. The ability to
teleport from one place to another with the scan of a
thumbprint on his armband had given him a whole new spin
on time management.
His lower body hummed as he stared at the bare flesh
highlighted in the sunrays shining through the skylight.
Rachel was a goddess. Not in the supermodel, movie
starlet sense. Those women did nothing for him. She came
off more as the small town, girl next door, they-know-
how-to-grow-‘em-down-on-the-farm-type goddess. And damn,
was she blessed.
Her push-up bra urged him to text his broker and buy
stock in women’s lingerie. If Rachel walked into the
Stock Exchange wearing that thing, she could single-
handedly revive Wall Street and the nation’s economy.
Tristan stifled a groan as she slowly rolled up an ivory
silk stocking and hooked it to her garter. The woman’s
legs were all kinds of long, her stomach flat and smooth.
Her skin held the hint of a tan – even the cheeks peeking
out of her ivory lace panties shown a golden hue.
He took a steadying breath. Don’t go there, Jacobs.
Aidan had known calling in that favor was the only way
Tristan would leave his long-awaited staycation in Trunk
Bay. The hothead all but ordered him to help save his
older sister, the saint.
Rachel shimmied into her fitted wedding gown. He had
never seen a saint with curves like that.
Aidan could only blame himself for Tristan standing in
the bride’s room of an old, Victorian church in Podunk,
Texas, watching his sister don a wedding dress she
wouldn’t use. He’d told Tristan to meet him there.
Aidan was late.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Rachel told her
reflection as she smoothed the lace skirt over her hips.
“This will fix everything for Mom.”
Tristan frowned. No, you’re not doing the right thing. I
did the right thing for you.
He’d crashed Cody Brewster’s bachelor party last night.
Of course, no one had seen him there but Aidan. Tristan
had seen first-hand what an arrogant ass Rachel’s fiancé
could be. According to Aidan, Brewster and his father,
Jock, owned nearly the entire town. Tristan had seen
evidence of that in the way men sucked up to them at the
party. Gifts and drinks were expected from everyone and,
other than Aidan, they had delivered.
“Hi, Mom.”
Rachel’s deep sigh and soft voice brought Tristan out of
his reverie. Damn, he hadn’t heard Kate Monroe enter the
room. Ogling his only friend’s sister while her mother
stood by, well… even a corrupt mercenary like Tristan had
his limits. He needed to get out of there.
“Rachel, you’re absolutely beautiful.” Kate rushed
forward to give her daughter a hug.
The woman looked the splitting image of Aidan, with her
copper hair and green eyes. Rachel must’ve gotten her
chocolate waves from her deceased father.
The heavy, oak door swung open. Aidan stuck in his head
and looked around. “Anyone come by searching for me?”
“No.” Kate pinned Rachel’s veil to the crown of her head.
She looked over at her son. “Who would be looking for
you?”
Dismissing them without an answer, Aidan pulled the door
halfway shut and left.
Good boy.
With sincere regret, Tristan left behind Rachel and the
hottest fifteen minutes he’d experienced in a long time.
He tiptoed around the faded, olive-colored sofa, steering
clear of the glass lamp on the end table.
Invisibility didn’t mean he could move through objects.
Slipping through the opening, Tristan strode out into the
hallway. He wanted to do a quick surveillance of the
church and grounds before he found Aidan. With only
fifteen minutes to go before the start of the ceremony,
he wanted to ensure turmoil loomed on the Brewster side
of the church.
Stepping out into the June, early morning sun, he took a
deep breath. The smell of oil hung heavy and dank, making
him long for home. If all went well, he could still get
in a full afternoon and evening on his private beach.
Rounding the side of the church, past the St. Michael
statue, Tristan made his way to the back parking lot -
and stopped cold.
Jock Brewster and another man had Cody propped up in the
passenger seat of a big, black pickup. Jock’s son looked
unconscious, his head flopping onto his chest while they
tried to slip his arms into a tuxedo jacket.
Tristan did a mental fist pump while he cursed low in his
throat. Obviously, the mega-dose of Rohypnol he’d slipped
into Cody’s drink last night still worked. He just
couldn’t believe Jock would still try to pull off the
wedding.
He had to tell Aidan.
Jogging down the church hallway, Tristan found a closet.
Looking around, he slipped inside and shut the door
behind him. He slid open the copper plate on his armband,
emblazed with The D.I.R.E. Agency emblem, and ran the pad
of his forefinger over the scanner beneath. Closing his
eyes, his blood pumped wildly as an electrical current
shot through his system, deactivating the gold and copper
compound. He saw a bright flash of light behind his
eyelids before the bulk of his flesh weighed on his
bones.
He was visible again.
Opening his eyes, he smoothed down his grey-striped tie
and adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt. Rushing out
the door, he ran to the bride’s room. Reaching for the
knob, he stopped short when the door yanked open from the
inside. Rachel ran straight into him, Aidan on her six.
Don’t look down, Jacobs. Don’t even think about those
impossibly perfect breasts crushed against you. Aidan
will kill you on the spot.
He stared at Aidan above Rachel’s head. “Houston, we have
a problem.”
Aidan let out a breath, his tense shoulders dropping in
relief. “Where the hell have you been?”
Trust me, you don’t want to know. “Bogey and company at
nine o’clock, about a half click.” Looking away, Aidan
cursed a blue streak.
Rachel whipped around to glare at him. “Aidan, we are in
a church.”
Tristan grinned to himself. Cocky, smart ass Aidan Monroe
actually blushed. If the situation weren’t so urgent,
Tristan would’ve harassed him about it.
Rachel stared up at Tristan, hands on hips. “Who are you
and what are you talking about?” An answer formed in
Tristan’s head but couldn’t seem to pass his lips. She
focused on him now, her big, aqua eyes shimmering against
her tanned skin. Tristan’s body felt as charged as it had
during his visibility transformation a few seconds ago.
“He’s out cold,” he told Aidan. “The old man is dragging
him in here. What do you want to do?”
Rachel’s gasp almost swallowed her words. “Who’s out?
Cody?”
Aidan glanced back at his mother, his brows furrowed.
Groaning aloud, Kate turned away. “Rachel,” Aidan said,
“go down the hall with Tristan while Mom and I talk to
Jock.”
“No.” She turned back to her brother. “If Cody is here,
we’re getting married.”
A muffled hum and the echo of heavy-booted footsteps grew
stronger and louder with each passing second. Rachel
moved in closer, trying to see beyond Tristan’s shoulder.
Without a word, Aidan motioned for Tristan to let him and
Kate pass. Rachel pushed forward to follow. Tristan
stepped into the doorway and turned his back on her. She
peered around his bicep.
Jock Brewster shuffled into view, dragging his son under
one arm. Cody remained lifeless, his head bobbing in
rhythm with their steps. The rubber toes of his boots
dragged on the concrete floor, leaving twin, narrow
tracks down the church hallway.
Somehow, Jock had managed to get Cody into a full tuxedo.
He labored to keep his hulking son upright.
“Cody.” Rachel’s small hands pushed against Tristan’s
shoulders. He stiffened. It took all he had not to flinch
away from the contact. “Let me pass.” She shoved him in
the back.
His arm shot out and braced against the doorframe,
blocking her path further.
“Good heavens, Jock,” Kate cried. “Do you honestly expect
Rachel to marry him while he’s unconscious?”
Jock lowered his son into a metal, folding chair beside a
water fountain. Cody fell over sideways, his blond head
resting in the basin.
“Aw, Kate,” Jock said in a breathless voice, his white
hair mussed from the exertion. “We all know they both
agreed to this. Why don’t we just have Pastor Collins
come back here and marry them? No one in town will know
the difference.”
Tristan slowly lowered his arm. Holy shit, was this guy
serious?
Aidan laughed, his arms crossed over his chest. “I always
knew you were crazy, Brewster, but I never knew how crazy
until you said that.”
“Hell, son.” Jock waved a hand at him. “You were in the
SEALS. You can’t tell me you didn’t look the other way a
time or two.”
“Like Sheriff Andrews does when he catches you breaking
the law?” Aiden glared daggers at him. “And, I’m not your
son.”
“Stop.” Rachel stood on her toes to peer over Tristan’s
shoulder. “First things, first. Aidan, make your
henchman, here, let me pass.”
His henchman?
With a smirk at Tristan, Aidan shook his head. “I don’t
think so, Rach.”
She pounded Tristan on the back with her fist. He grinned
to himself, flexing his shoulders in resistance. So, the
saint possessed a streak of hellion. Very hot.
“Is he okay, Jock?” Rachel nodded at Cody.
“Ah, he’s fine.” Jock gave another dismissive wave. “He
must’ve had one helluva bachelor party last night.”
Aiden and Tristan exchanged a smirk.
I enjoyed it, anyway.
“He’s embarrassed my daughter in front of everyone in
town.” Kate popped Jock on the chest. “This is
unforgivable.” Lowering her voice, she said, “I was
counting on this marriage, Jock.”
Tristan felt Rachel still behind him. She swallowed hard
and took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
Shock zipped through him before Tristan whipped around.
What the hell? She couldn’t be serious. Although, judging
by the determined tilt of her chin and laser-sharp gaze,
Rachel meant business.
No wonder Aidan felt the need to step in on this wedding.
The woman didn’t play with a full deck.
Aidan pointed a finger at her. “No. Don’t be ridiculous,
Rachel.”
Jock gave a wily smile. “She’s a consenting adult, son.”
A wiry, middle-aged man wearing church robes came around
the corner. “Hello, everyone.” He nodded at Cody who made
soft, groaning noises in the fountain drain. “Looks like
someone is trying to wake up.”
Jock and Kate rushed to Cody’s side. Aidan turned to
Tristan, his green eyes intense, glittering. Taking
Rachel’s hand, he slapped it inside Tristan’s palm.
Sparks of awareness erupted under his skin.
“Take her. Now.”
Rachel stiffened beside him. “No.”
Tightening the grip on her hand, Tristan tried to drag
her down the hall. Rachel held her legs stiff.
He yanked on her arm, nearly toppling her face first on
the floor. Dammit. He helped her straighten.
“I’m not…” She shoved the veil out of her face. “…going
anywhere.”
Aidan growled through gritted teeth. “Rachel, go. We’ll
find another way.” She tried to break free of Tristan’s
grip. He held firm, surprised at her strength. “There is
no other way, Aidan,” she said, yanking down on her hand.
“Like hell there isn’t.” Turning to Tristan, Aidan
clenched his jaw. “Do it.” Tristan stilled, his grip
faltering. Oh, hell no. Not here. Not now.
“No.”
Rachel halted mid-motion. “Do what?”
Aidan shoved Tristan back into the bride’s room. Rachel
stumbled along with him. “Do it.”
“No, Aidan,” Rachel said. “I’m not going anywhere. Now,
stop this, once and for all.” She turned her big, blazing
eyes on Tristan. “And you. Let go of me. Now.”
“What the hell is going on in there?” Jock boomed out in
the hallway.
Aidan shoved Rachel flush against Tristan’s chest. The
scent of orchids overwhelmed him. “Go.” Aidan’s usually
jovial gaze shown dark with worry.
Cursing a blue streak in his head, Tristan gazed down
into her wide eyes, then lower. Her breasts nearly burst
free of her strapless gown.
Damn. He should not have Aidan’s saintly sister crushed
against him like this. Did Aidan have any idea how long
it had been since he’d had a woman?
Cursing aloud this time, he threw his arms around Rachel.
He didn’t sign up for this - he was on vacation, dammit.
Only six days remained before he had to be in Brazil to
intercept one of Naylor’s gun technology deals.
Intense heat enveloped him like a firestorm. He felt a
trickle of moisture at his temple. Was he sweating? Good
God. He acted like he hadn’t held a beautiful woman
before. Rachel’s heart galloped against his chest. Fear
shone bright in her round eyes and flushed face. He had
to get them out of there.
Reaching behind her back, he shoved aside the cuff of his
shirt and found the cover plate on his armband. His thumb
slid over the scanner. He stared into her big, beautiful
eyes as the thick, green plasma surrounded them.
“What did you do? What’s happening?”
“Hold onto me, Rachel. And, whatever you do, don’t let
go.”