Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel by Elle Kennedy Page A

raise her eyebrows, but even she couldn’t deny it was cozy. The ceiling was massive, a crisscross of wooden beams that looked as though they belonged in a hunting lodge or a fancy ski chalet. Plush leather couches, set up in an L shape, took up half of the room, while a large stone fireplace and a few comfortable-looking recliners filled the other half. Tall oak bookshelves and beautiful oil landscapes lined the walls, lending both warmth and elegance to the large space.
    Abby approached one of the shelves and studied the titles, eventually selecting a hardcover edition of Hemingway’s
The Sun Also Rises.
Hemingway had always intrigued her. She’d attended a lecture about him once, given by a feminist who admonished the author for portraying women as either castrators or love slaves, angels or demons. Which would she be? Abby had always wondered. She’d played the part of love slave. Castrator too. Maybe even a demon.
    But never an angel.
    Drawing in a breath, she got comfortable on one of the couches, pulling a dark blue wool afghan over her legs to keep warm. She opened the first page of the book and began to read.
    Several hours passed—she could tell from the faint glow of light beginning to stream in from the large bay window overlooking the barren courtyard. Dawn was approaching. And Kane still hadn’t returned.
    When the sound of footsteps came from the hall, she lifted her head, anticipation gathering in her body. Finally.
    “Do you have an answer for me—” Her words died inher throat when D rather than Kane strode into the living room.
    Wearing a pair of black track pants and a sleeveless black shirt that hugged his impressive chest, D leaned against the doorframe, his black eyes stormy. “Kane’s on the phone.” Sarcasm clung to his gravelly voice. “But I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know he’s decided to undertake this suicide mission of yours. Morgan’s on board too. He and Holden are on their way back, and Trevor’s already on a plane. He should be here in a few hours. Bet you’re mighty pleased.”
    The hostility radiating from his lean, muscular body wasn’t lost on her. “Who’s Trevor?” she asked cautiously.
    “One of the team. Just lost his fiancée too.” D’s lips tightened. “He’ll probably be so distracted he’ll get himself killed, which is probably why he’s doing this.”
    Abby hid her confusion. She had no idea who Trevor was, or why he had a death wish, but she decided not to question it right now. D was evidently pissed off at her and looking to land a few cheap shots. Well, fine. She’d let him. As long as what he said was true, and Kane was truly on board, she wasn’t complaining.
    “Kane told you what’s going on?”
    D nodded, his eyes cold and relentless.
    “And you don’t think it’s a good idea to help those girls?”
    His big shoulders stiffened as he stepped into the living room. To her surprise, he sat down beside her on the sofa. Her eyes were instantly drawn to his tattoos, focusing on the lethal-looking dragon that looked like it was about to take flight off his shoulder.
    “I don’t like you,” he said bluntly.
    “Gee, and here I thought we were going to be BFFs.”
    “Do you want to know why I don’t like you, Abby?”
    She sighed. “Sure, D, go ahead and tell me.”
    “You’re a loose fucking cannon.”
    Offense prickled her skin. A loose cannon? She was a professional, for God’s sake. Cool under pressure, able to infiltrate any organization with careful planning and canny thinking. “I disagree,” she said coldly.
    He bared his teeth in a cheerless smile. “Oh, I know you’re a pro,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You’re a warrior, aren’t you, Abby?”
    Wary, she waited for him to continue.
    “But deep down…” He shrugged, the snake tattoo around his neck flexing ominously. “Deep down, you’re just that scared little girl who got raped by her foster daddies.”
    “How—” She stopped abruptly, her voice