Sam, p.1
Sam, page 1
Sam
SHADOW OPS TEAM
Makenna Jameison
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Makenna Jameison
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Table of Contents
About this Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Books by Makenna Jameison
About the Author
About this Book
A CHANCE ENCOUNTER in Paris, a steamy night of passion, and the one who got away...
Sam Jackson’s layover in Paris wasn’t supposed to mean an unforgettable night with the woman of his dreams. When he ghosted her to continue on with his mission, he never expected to see the sexy strawberry-blonde a year later. With her curves that won’t quit and sassy mouth, Sam wants her forgiveness—and a shot to make her his.
Artist Ava Kincaid hasn’t forgiven Sam for disappearing without a trace. His broad shoulders and heated kisses may haunt her dreams, but she’s determined to keep him in the past, exactly where he belongs.
When Ava is commissioned to create sculptures in Egypt, she jumps at the opportunity. A fresh start is exactly what she needs, especially when Sam keeps reappearing in her life. Danger is lurking, however, and when Ava is caught in the web of a terror cell, Sam is the only one who can save her. She’d trust him with her life, but will she give him a piece of her heart?
Sam, a standalone novel, is book four in the Shadow Ops Team series.
Chapter 1
“OH SHIT,” AVA KINCAID muttered, watching as her heavy backpack fell off the park bench and tumbled to the ground, spilling some of the contents. Her passport landed on the sidewalk, along with her guidebook to Paris, subway map, and stash of granola bars. She knelt down, brushing her strawberry-blonde hair back as she attempted to right her belongings.
“Need some help?” a deep voice rumbled. Her ears perked up. He sounded American.
Ava glanced over in his direction, her heart stuttering as she caught sight of the man who remained a respectful distance away. He was tall. Broad. Muscles atop muscles, with a short buzz cut that screamed military. The quirk of a smile on his face was friendly rather than threatening, and she didn’t miss the interest in those green eyes. He looked like he spent a lot of time outdoors, his sun-kissed skin a nice complement to his dark hair. Nothing looked as good as the way his shirt hugged his biceps though, his broad shoulders stretching the cotton tee shirt. The guy was ripped.
Ava licked her lips. “Sure. It was my bad for not zipping it back up.”
He lifted a shoulder and moved closer. “Happens to the best of us. You’re American,” he added unnecessarily.
“Guilty as charged.”
“I was talking with some French women at a café earlier,” he said conversationally as he ducked down, collecting a few of the stray granola bars. A hint of the scent of clean soap filled the air between them, along with something else that was spicy and masculine. She felt her heartbeat speed up. “They pretended not to speak English, but I think they were just messing with me.”
Her eyes ran over his torso, an electric current zapping through her as their fingers briefly touched as she took her belongings back. Her hand looked feminine and small compared to his, her skin smooth whereas his showed signs of physical work. “Mmmm. Maybe they were talking about you.”
His lips twitched.
“I would have if I’d been there with my girlfriends,” she said with a wink.
He chuckled as Ava shoved the last of her things in her backpack, zipping it shut before standing. She struggled to heft the backpack up, and the guy reached out, grabbing it easily with one muscled arm. He set it on the bench, making sure to lean it against the back so it didn’t tumble again. “You might need to redistribute the weight. It’s top heavy.”
“You backpacking yourself?” she asked with curiosity.
“No, just spent a good deal of time packing my rucksack in the Army.”
“I knew it,” she said teasingly, pointing her finger at him. “I had a feeling you were military.”
The guy crossed his muscular arms, smiling. His biceps bunched with the movement, and her eyes briefly tracked to them before returning to his face. He was watching her, and she didn’t deny she’d been checking him out. The man was hot. His own appreciative gaze on her made Ava feel warm inside. He wasn’t obnoxiously gaping at her, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes briefly dropped to her cleavage before returning to her face. She kept in good shape, average sized with curves men appreciated. The top she had on clung to her breasts and revealed just a hint of bare skin above her jeans. It wasn’t cropped so much as sexy. Short. She had a feeling he’d taken it all in with just a glance at her. He looked like the type of man that didn’t miss much.
“I’m Ava,” she said, reaching out one hand. His muscled hand clasped her own—not too tightly, but she could feel his leashed strength.
“Sam,” he said, the touch of his warm, calloused skin against her own sending shivers racing down her spine. He held her hand a moment too long, and she looked away from his interested gaze only when she heard a child’s peal of laughter across the park.
He released her hand, crossing his arms casually again as he smiled. He was a lot taller than she was, but somehow his presence made Ava feel safe. She traveled a lot and always had a good read on people. “Are you here on leave?” she asked, brushing her hair back as it blew slightly in the breeze. His eyes landed on her hand, and she briefly wondered if he was looking for a ring. Did men even notice that type of thing?
He didn’t have on a wedding band either—not that she was looking.
“Sort of. My teammates and I had a layover in Paris, but our flight was canceled,” he said, his deep voice doing something funny to her insides. “I don’t fly out until tomorrow afternoon, so I’m exploring the city today. What about you? Are you traveling with friends?”
“What if I’m married?” she asked boldly.
“No ring. Are you?” he pressed.
“Nope,” she said, popping the second syllable. “I’m single. You?”
“One hundred percent available,” he said, causing Ava to burst into laughter. She wasn’t the type of woman who giggled around a man, but Sam’s blunt interest was somewhat refreshing. It was a weekday morning in the middle of a park in Paris. It wasn’t like they’d sneak off to the dark corner of a bar together, kissing until they were breathless.
“I’m backpacking across Europe. My bestie and I explored London for a long weekend, but she didn’t have enough leave to travel for several weeks. I’ve got a list of cities to visit before I fly home.”
“And where’s that?” he asked, his green eyes focused solely on her.
“Manhattan.”
“Huh. And what do you do in Manhattan? I figure most jobs won’t necessarily grant you weeks of leave. Are you a student?”
“I’m an artist.”
“Are you hoping to get inspired on this trip?” he asked, flashing that smile at her again.
“Absolutely. I’m visiting museums, sightseeing, and marveling at the wonders of the city. Plus, I’m here to drink cheap wine, have some amazing food, and take a French lover.”
His husky laughter filled the air around them. “Too bad I’m American.”
“Too bad,” she agreed. “Otherwise, you might’ve been perfect.”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not above a vacation fling,” she said flirtatiously. “I don’t know you though, and you’re leaving tomorrow. It’s probably best if we just stay friends.”
“Right,” he said, his lips quirking. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from those Frenchmen. Until you meet this guy, maybe we could explore some of the city together. You don’t speak French, do you?”
“Just what I learned in high school,” she admitted. “I’m up for exploring some. I’m planning to go to the Louvre later this week but wanted to check out some smaller, local art galleries.”
“I’m game.”
“Really?”
“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t have much of a plan—wasn’t expecting to be here anyway. Sightseeing in Paris with a beautiful woman isn’t exactly a hardship.”
“And you’re definitely single.”
“I’m single,” he said with a low chuckle.
“Right. I don’t always have the best luck with men, but it’s not like we’re dating. We’re tourists in Paris exploring the city.”
“Exactly. And if you get tired of me following you around, I promise not to be a dick about it. I’ll do my own thing and tell my buddies about the pretty girl who ditched me in Paris. C’est la vie.”
She shook her head, trying not to smile. Sam was a flirt, but she couldn’t deny that she e njoyed the attention. He was handsome as hell, and exploring Paris with him would be more fun than being on her own. “I need to drop my bag off at my hotel first. I checked in yesterday but spent the morning at the laundromat. I’m not paying the exorbitant fees the hotel charges to do the guests’ laundry.”
“Is your hotel close by?”
“Just a block away,” she said, glancing up the street. “I stopped for a bit because the park was so gorgeous. I was going to sit outside at a café with a coffee and then visit the galleries. So, if you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”
“I’d love to buy you a coffee,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“But—”
“Nope. It’s on me. I’ll walk you back,” he said, nodding in the direction she’d pointed. “We can drop it off and then go exploring. My buddies and I are staying near the airport. We were trying to catch another flight, but it was completely booked.”
Sam reached down and easily hefted her backpack onto one shoulder, making it look lighter than she knew it to be. “Is this all you’re traveling with?” he asked.
Ava burst into laughter as they began walking down the street. “Of course not. I’ve got a small suitcase, but I made sure I could carry everything on my flight. I hate checking bags, and it doesn’t do me any good to pack luggage so heavy I can’t even lift it.”
“Yep. You should’ve taken me with you on the plane,” he said.
She swatted his arm, enjoying the feel of firm muscle beneath warm skin.
“Ouch,” he joked.
“That did not hurt,” she chastised.
“Not at all,” he agreed.
Ava found herself trying to stifle a laugh. “Good thing I found you then—to carry my backpack and all.”
“Pretty sure I found you,” he commented dryly.
She laughed again, her chest filling with warmth at the way he looked down at her. They continued down the Paris street, and Ava couldn’t help but marvel what a perfect day it was. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and she was happy. She and her best friend Wren had an amazing time in London, but Ava was an extrovert. She was thrilled to have someone to spend the day with and certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone like Sam. He was fun. Flirty. After they went their separate ways at the end of the day, she hoped she’d have some fond memories of their day together in Paris. If Sam was in the military, she doubted she’d see him again. He could be stationed anywhere, and she wasn’t exactly looking for a boyfriend. A hot guy to explore with, however? That she could very much get on board with.
Chapter 2
SAM JACKSON STRODE down the street beside the woman he’d just met, his lips quirking. Ava was animatedly telling him about the sightseeing she’d done in London with her best friend. Her long hair swished as she moved, and he got a whiff of her sexy, floral scent. She was beautiful. Long, strawberry-blonde hair, fair skin, and pretty blue eyes. Ava wore fitted jeans with a tight tank top, and he’d have to be blind to miss her killer curves. The tank hugged her breasts perfectly, her delicate necklaces dangling against her cleavage. She was petite, only coming up to his shoulder, but he had no doubt her body would fit against his perfectly.
Not that he had plans to test out that theory. It wasn’t even noon, and they’d agreed to visit some art galleries together, not rip each other’s clothes off. Although he planned to hit up some nightclubs later with his buddies, if the day went well, he wouldn’t mind ditching them for Ava. He’d be leaving tomorrow, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop Ava and him from enjoying an evening together. Or the entire night.
He easily carried her backpack on one shoulder, wondering how she’d lugged it around by herself. He didn’t mind holding it and had been amused watching her heft it back onto the park bench. She was so much smaller than him, he couldn’t help but feel slightly protective toward her. In his line of work, he was used to keeping people safe. Going after the bad guys, so to speak. Watching out for a beautiful woman as they walked down the city street and carrying her heavy bag wasn’t a hardship.
They sure as shit weren’t dodging gunfire and taking out a tango.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Ava had assumed he was military, and there wasn’t much of a reason to correct her. He’d be on his way to the Middle East tomorrow, meeting up with a contact before bringing in an HVT, or high value target, wanted by the U.S. government. Sam and his friends were part of the Shadow Ops Team. Former Delta Force soldiers, they’d been recruited by their boss when they got out of the military. A mission that went bad with a teammate being held hostage was all that they needed to say goodbye to Uncle Sam. Now they took jobs the government couldn’t or wouldn’t handle—a covert black ops team that deployed around the world, all under the guise of working for Shadow Security.
“I’m staying right over there,” Ava said, gesturing to a boutique hotel, and drawing Sam’s attention back to the present.
His gaze flicked to the building on the corner of the Parisian street. The quaint hotel wasn’t necessarily one he’d pick, yet it suited her. A little café was across the street, along with several shops on the ground floor of an apartment building. It was the same down the entire block. Charming even. It seemed a safe area for a woman traveling alone, although as they approached her hotel, he didn’t like how anyone on the street could simply walk in.
“I didn’t think I’d be bringing a man back to my hotel this morning,” Ava said, flashing him a saucy grin. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and his eyes briefly dipped to her cleavage as her necklaces gleamed in the sunlight.
Sam made a sound at the back of his throat. Ava was a flirt, but he’d promised himself he’d be good. “To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever walked a woman I just met back to her hotel in broad daylight.”
“Midnight more your style?” she quipped.
“I’m no saint, but I don’t go hooking up with random women all the time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Of course not. Because we’re not hooking up. I still need to take a French lover, remember?” Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him, and Sam didn’t miss the way her eyes tracked over his chest. He kept in good shape, and while his shirt wasn’t overly snug, no one would miss his muscular stature. He sure as hell didn’t mind Ava’s eyes on him.
“How could I forget? I’ve been cursing my bad luck of not being French ever since you first mentioned it,” he said with a wink.
She laughed, clearly enjoying the way he flirted with her, and his gaze dropped briefly to her pink lips. Ava had on some type of lip gloss but otherwise wore minimal makeup. Her cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, but she had fair skin. Any hint of a blush would easily show. He wondered how her strawberry-blonde hair would look against her bare breasts, the long strands teasing her creamy skin. Fuck. He felt his cock twitch and tried to think of something else. She was too damn pretty for him not to have carnal thoughts running through his mind, but he couldn’t exactly walk around the city rock hard either.
He reached out to open the door of her hotel, his bare arm brushing against hers. Ava shivered slightly at his touch, and he smiled. She was playful and sexy, but he loved that she wasn’t unaffected by him. There was clearly a mutual attraction between the two of them. Sam’s hand landed on the small of her back as he guided her through the doors, and he stared at it splayed across her delicate frame for a beat. He could feel the heat of her body beneath the thin tank top, and he noticed the slight hitch of her breath at his touch. She was so damn small and delicate compared to him. Sam felt like he should watch out for her, keeping her safe, but he also wanted to strip her bare and explore every square inch of her.
It was quite the conundrum.
He continued guiding her into the small lobby, towering above her frame. His gaze swept the area out of habit, taking in the other guests and hotel staff. There was a front desk staffed by a lone woman, and no one seemed to be paying attention to who was coming in or out of the building. He lifted his gaze, looking for any security cameras. There was one pointed at the doors at least. No telling how good it was though. An elevator dinged, and as he finished scanning the area, he saw a set of double doors across the lobby leading to a small conference room.
