Unforgotten

D. Hayes Angie

Description

Reclusive Shea Willow has never been able to forget Ian McDowell. One evening spent with the handsome Irishman while on a European tour in college sparked a deep connection that she was unable to forget even when he vanished without a trace.A decade later, Shea, now a successful novelist, travels to Germany to research her new book and is confronted at the airport by the ghost from her past. The moment she sees Ian, the bitterness and resentment she struggled for years to overcome resurface. But, she is forced to set aside those feelings because Ian is in trouble and he needs her help.As a member of Britains MI6, Ian has infiltrated the counterfeit ring responsible for his brothers death. But, things have turned sour, and now Ian is on the run. The agency thinks hes gone rogue, and the ruthless leader of the organization wants him dead. Shea is the only one he can trust.Putting aside the past, the two plunge into a dangerous world of espionage and violence. But as their quest takes a deadly turn, the lines of love and justice begin to blur.

Informations

• Publié par: Inspiring Voices
• Date de parution: 26 décembre 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781462404681
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Unforgotten
Angie D. Hayes


 
Copyright © 2012 Angie D. Hayes
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
 
Inspiring Voices books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:
 
Inspiring Voices
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www.inspiringvoices.com
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
 
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
 
ISBN: 978-1-4624-0467-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4624-0468-1 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012922831
 
 
Inspiring Voices rev. date: 12/20/2012
Contents
Chapter One
Ten Years Ago
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Ten Years Later
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
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Afterword
 
 
 
For those in bondage
 
Chapter One
Ten Years Ago
A shoe fell from the sky. Seconds later another one joined it, landing on the ground next to the bench where he sat. Isn’t it manna that’s supposed to fall from heaven? Ian peered in the direction of the shoes’ origin just as a sea of sparkly purple fabric catapulted from the second-floor window to the ground beside him, the jumper landing deftly on her feet. Dark curly hair framed a pale-skinned face. The dim moonlight illuminated steely blue eyes. The girl regarded him evenly as she retrieved her shoes.
“Ya know, even these old buildings have doors,” he offered, his Irish brogue echoing off the stones of the university theater building.
“If only I’d known a few moments earlier you could have saved me from the harrowing ten foot drop, Captain Obvious,” she said, her deep American voice velvety smooth in the shadows.
Amused by her comment, Ian raised his brow at the obvious challenge. Once her shoes were fastened, she brushed the dark curls from her face and walked away leaving Ian gawking at the sassy American as she disappeared from view.
 
Shea hurried back to the dormitory she currently called home. Much like the other dormitories she’d visited over the last several weeks, it was simply a stop in the endless tour of concerts she signed on to participate in when she joined the madrigal group. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime - forty-five European cities in fifteen weeks. Not bad for a girl who had never left the United States.
She unlocked the door to her room and hurried inside, anxious to get out of the gown. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The deep eggplant colored dress was illuminated by a subtle sparkle woven through the fabric. Its spaghetti straps and plunging V-neck weren’t the best choice for some of the more petite girls in the group, but the dress fit her remarkably well thanks in part to her height, nearly five foot eight. She unzipped the gown and let it drop to the floor before unbuckling the strappy black heels and tossing them in the general direction of the closet. Shea wrestled the sea of satin onto a hanger. She pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt and grabbed a book on the way to her bunk. Safely tucked under the covers, she began to read, relaxing as the story captivated her full attention. She was grateful for the reprieve from the chaos and drama that seemed to follow the twentysomethings in the singing group everywhere they went.
The temporary reprieve was shattered the moment her roommate stepped through the door. “I’m shocked to find you here,” she said sarcastically.
Shea rolled her eyes. “We can’t all have an endless entourage of men following us wherever we go,” she told Rebecca, a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty.
“And where exactly are they supposed to follow you, Shea? To the dormitory?” Rebecca slipped out of her dress and pulled on a too-tight pair of jeans over her enviable figure.
Shea shrugged. “I like the ones who can actually spell their own name.”
Rebecca pulled on a fitted T-shirt and turned to face Shea. “And how exactly do you glean that information? Do you ask them between insults?”
Shea focused on her book again. “I like men who can handle the truth.”
“Thick skin is what your man is gonna need if you ever get your nose out of a book long enough to find one who can tame that tongue of yours,” she said, pulling on her shoes. “Erica and I are going to the lobby to play cards with some of the tenors. Come with us.”
“Pass.”
“Shocker,” Rebecca said, moving toward the door. “See ya.”
Shea welcomed the slamming of the door and returned her focus to where she really wanted to be, alone in her own little world.
 
Shea slept in the following morning, eventually joining Rebecca and Erica as they made their way to the cafeteria for lunch.
“Hold my key,” Rebecca insisted, handing it to Shea.
“You know, you could actually buy your pants in a size that would allow you to put your hand in your pocket. Then, you could carry your own key.”
Erica grinned at Shea. She enjoyed Shea’s bluntness, found it refreshingly honest. From the look on Rebecca’s face, she wasn’t as thrilled. Shea took the key, stuffed it into her pocket, and grabbed the cafeteria door Rebecca neglected to hold open for her. She retrieved a tray and selected a salad and a mystery meat sandwich as she progressed through the line. Nearing the end, she realized she’d neglected to pick up a packet of dressing. She glanced back toward the salad, finding several athletic types hovering in the vicinity. “Hey Red,” Shea called to the redhead looming over the dressing. When he glanced her way, she realized it was the man who’d observed her harrowing escape the previous evening. “Mind tossing one of those my way?”
“Not at tall,” the Irishman said, tossing a packet of dressing in her direction. One of his friends laughed at the nickname, earning him a swift elbow in the stomach.
“Thanks,” she said, turning back towards her wide-eyed, dismayed friends. “What?” she asked innocently.
“Shea, that was rude,” Rebecca said.
“Why? It’s not like he’s never been called Red before.”
Rebecca shook her head in exasperation as she filled her glass with ice.
“You coming shopping with us?” Erica asked.
“Nah,” Shea responded.
“Another shocker there,” Rebecca noted, making her way to one of the remaining empty tables.
Shea surveyed the sea of faces and decided their group must be sharing the campus with at least half a dozen athletic teams. Apparently, the music festival isn’t the only event the university hosts during the summer , she thought, trying to avoid being knocked about by the crowd on the way to a table.
After lunch, Shea’s friends abandoned her to go shopping, promising to heed the reminder from their group leader that they needed to be back by six-thirty, ready to rehearse. Shea tossed an apple, a granola bar and a couple bottles of water into her backpack and made her way toward the exit, fully intending to disappear for the rest of the day. She let several rowdy soccer players pass on their way back through the line for seconds, or thirds. The redhead smiled at her as he walked past. She raised an eyebrow as she maneuvered her way by the group and out the double doors.
She went in search of a quiet place to read on the expansive campus. She found a bench overlooking the river that twisted through the grounds. Satisfied she would be alone, Shea dropped her backpack to the ground and sat down. She stripped off the pink sweatshirt she wore over her white T-shirt, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. Ready to relax, Shea pulled out her book. Lost in the story for several chapters, she was interrupted from her reverie by the sound of laughter floating up from the water. Just over the crest of the hill, she could hear splashing and carrying on. The sound made her smile. A small, brick dock sat at the edge of the river, its dark depths flowing rapidly past the crumbling steps. Three men emerged from the water, soaked and shirtless.
Amused, Shea admired their muscular physique as they sought a respite from their river adventure. The only apparent place to do that was the bench she occupied. As the men neared, Shea recognized the redhead from earlier. He spotted her immediately and smirked, taking a seat remarkably close to her side. His buddy sank onto the bench next to him.
“Watch it, lass,” Red wailed. “Keep your ten pounds of hair to