This book has had a long and often troubled history, but after being unceremoniously hidden away for some time, it's back. Re-edited, a little more detailed, and sexier than ever. I hope you enjoy this "fantasy" look at the ninja, and find Adam a hero worth loving.
Talking Two Lips reviewer Tina gave this title FIVE lips, and said: "Denyse Bridger brings a passionate spy tale together in Retribution. I found myself immersed in the world of ninjas and spy games. I didn’t want this book to ever end. I loved the hot romance, hot enough to scorch the fingers as you read. Adam is now my new favorite hero. He is strong, loyal, and completely sexy and he is a ninja—how neat is that? The only downside is I wanted this story to go on and on. I hope Adam has another story out there—I would love to revisit him someday! When you want a short but hotter-than-sin romance you want Retribution."
RETRIBUTION: Silent Death
BLURB:
Adam Walker is one of the Company’s best field
agents, a highly trained, well-honed killing machine when that’s what’s needed.
But, he’s also a man of many secrets, and one of them is that he’s a ninja, one
of Japan’s mythical death warriors. When another of Adam’s secrets, his lover
Kiku, is killed, he turns to the one person he trusts, fellow agent Shainna
Barton. While Shainna covers for him on a mission, Adam metes out his revenge,
and discovers that his friendship with Shainna has a much deeper meaning that
either of them ever realized…
EXCERPT:
Adam's steps were sure and
silent as he made his way to the rear of the small theater. Exhaustion consumed
him, but the residue of rushing adrenaline afforded his body a moment of false
energy. Successful in yet another assignment—when the body turned up with the
stolen files, there'd be no questions asked. Business as
usual.
Still, the timing had been
off, and there'd been no time to warn Kiku to stay at home. Uneasiness whispered
inside him again, as it had for most of the past hour. Not for the first time
during recent weeks, though . . . . He wondered if it had been wise to reject
her desire to take their relationship to a more intimate involvement. Loving
Kiku was as natural to him as breathing. But being her lover was something he
hadn't honestly considered. Not until she'd brought it to his
attention.
Why he hadn't noticed her
love changing to passion baffled him now, as he thought about it. He'd told her
intimacy of that kind would create distractions within his mind—the kind that
might one day get them both killed. She'd been skeptical, though
uncharacteristically reticent about explaining why, when he questioned her quick
acceptance of his decision.
He thrust the doubts aside
as he reached her office and entered. As always, the closet-like room appeared
in complete chaos. An organized mess, she called it. He crossed the short space
and picked up the phone as he settled on the edge of her desk. He was about to
dial her home number when a flicker of movement drew his attention to the small,
private parking lot separating the theater from a large apartment building next
door. Adam slipped the receiver into its cradle and moved to stand in the
shadows next to the small window behind her desk.
He spotted Kiku's nearly
naked body and he froze. Instinct guided him as fear and rage surged through
him. Reaching beyond the haze of tumultuous emotions, he drew on his training. A
careful look at Kiku told him she was dead . . . her neck broken. Again, the
flicker of shadows betrayed a presence. He waited. Seconds passed, so drawn out
by tension they felt like hours, but one-by-one he saw each figure with striking
clarity. And in that brief instant, each of the five faces was burned indelibly
into his memory. He knew one of them by name, and recognized the others as
students of Caisson's dojo. The heavy
weight of the gun under his left arm all but spoke to him the alluring
suggestion to pull the weapon and use it was so tempting. Adam had to force
himself to resist using his weapon, a task made all the more difficult when
Caisson bent over Kiku and placed a mocking kiss on her
forehead.
He tore his gaze away, no
longer trusting his ability to control his grief-enhanced rage. As he leaned
against the wall, he realized he'd been holding his breath. Slowly, he exhaled,
shaking uncontrollably despite his imposed strength of will.
When the wracking spasms of
anguish subsided, he emerged from the theater's office and left without looking
back.
* * * * *
Less than half an hour
later, Adam slipped into Kiku's small flat. Like her office, it was in disarray,
although not to the same exaggerated extent. He did a thorough, systematic
search of the entire four rooms, removing every trace of his presence in her
life. The items were few, for he seldom left even the smallest of articles
behind. No photographs of them to be found, together or individually, a house
rule they'd agreed to years earlier.
Hovering in the doorway, he
took one final look at the place. It was so much like her, he thought, inhaling
the light residue of sandalwood incense in the air. Books on every subject to
satisfy her insatiable thirst for knowledge were strewn about, along with old
theater posters, exotically painted masques, and cassettes and CDs in various
languages. Despite his protestations, a map hung on the wall, dotted with
postcards from the countries they'd traveled together. He hesitated for a moment
then decided to collect the cards and destroy the map.
When he finished, he locked
the door and turned his back on this place, too. Kiku would have expected
nothing less from him.
* * * * *
Shainna Barton sighed in
weariness as she kicked open the door to her apartment to drag her luggage
inside. She'd been out of the country for over a month this time, and home
seemed more appealing than she would have thought possible. She was growing
tired in more ways than one.
A quick slam and the door
shut firmly, leaving her in the silent, air-conditioned sanctuary she'd bought
only a year before, a purchase she'd recognized as the first step toward her
accepting pending retirement from the field.
She'd called home the night
before, and her oldest and dearest friend had opened the apartment and stocked
the cupboards for her. DeeDee Caulwell was one of the few constants in Shainna's
life. She honestly didn't know what she'd do without her.
The phone rang. She stole a
glance at the caller ID. Dee . Shainna dropped her
shoulder bag and flopped into a chair as she grabbed the phone. The worry in
DeeDee's voice hit before the actual words, and Shainna automatically reached
for the TV remote control to turn on the news report her friend was going on
about with such dread. The reporter's words ran together as Shainna's world
twisted wildly on its axis. Her pulse roared so loud in her ears she barely
heard DeeDee say she was on her way over.
* * * * *
From her window seat,
Shainna looked out at the night sky. Her chill had very little to do with the
air-conditioned air. The ice reached into her soul and expanded outward to her
quivering limbs. She wasn't prone to infatuation, never had been, but there was
something almost obsessive in her passion for Adam Walker. They were friends;
the relationship worked for them. But Shainna had realized, long ago, the hunger
she felt in Adam's company had precious little to do with being friends. If
she'd been less honest, she would have hated Kiku Shimoda, simply for being the
love in Walker 's
life. But Shainna was too much a realist to pretend the other woman was the
reason Adam didn't love her.
She sighed and closed her
eyes, letting her head thump gently against the wall at her back. Adam's amazing
topaz eyes came into focus so quickly she was startled to discover he wasn't
next to her. She could feel him, though. All around her. Inside her heart. His
pain was agonizing—and total. He was out there, and by now, he
knew.
"What are you going to do,
Adam?" She asked the question aloud, as was her custom when working possible
angles to a puzzle. She shivered when the answer, like a cold caress, brushed
her consciousness—a promise of mayhem and death—as if Adam had spoken directly
into her mind. They'd been connected on some level for what felt like forever.
And in that moment, she wondered if he'd actually heard her and
responded.
Before the odd thought could
create another conundrum for her to ponder, she was distracted by a knock at the
door. She crossed the room and opened the door, breathing a thankful sigh at the
sight of her friend.
"Are you all
right?"
She shut the door as DeeDee
glided past, shedding her coat and tossing it into a chair before she turned to
Shainna.
"I'm still trying to take in
what's happened." Shainna confessed. "This is going to destroy Adam. Especially
when he finds out what the press is reporting. I don't even know where to find
him, Dee !"
"Maybe that's for the best."
DeeDee's features showed visible concern.
Adam Walker was always a
touchy subject between them, and the gentle censure in her friend's voice made
Shainna's temper flare.
"Okay, Shain." DeeDee held
up her hands in a gesture of surrender before Shainna had time to snap. "Truce.
Back off. What are you planning, anyway?"
"If I know Adam, he's going
to find who did this." She paced, chewed her thumbnail, and tried to make her
brain function past her fear for the man. Kiku was the world to Adam, and
Shainna knew—via the Division grapevine—the two had been a solid couple for some
time. Whether or not the rumors were based on truth wasn't relevant to her
heart. She'd tried not to resent Kiku for Adam's lack of interest, but it hadn't
been easy when every part of her spirit and body cried for the man in ways she
wished rather to never have experienced.
"And . . . ." She finally
added. "He's going to make them pay for what they did to her—in
blood."
"That sounds like Adam,"
DeeDee agreed, her tone reflecting her dislike and her near contempt for the man
they discussed.
"Why do you hate him so
much?"
Startled, DeeDee didn't
answer for a moment, then she laughed. "I hate what he does to you. Adam himself
means nothing to me. I know you'd walk through hell for him, and he wouldn't
have to ask you to do it. What would he do for you, Shain?"
"The same thing if I needed
him."
"You're so certain of that.
Why?"
"Because he's Adam. Because
what exists between us is a lot deeper than simply trusting another agent with
your back."
"What happened in Italy
last year?" DeeDee asked. "You've never said much, but something changed between
you and Adam on that mission."
"Yeah, we took our last day
and went sight-seeing like normal people. I got drunk and told him I loved him.
We blamed the wine the next day, and pretended it never
happened."
"What did he say?"
"I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate
me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you
lies."
DeeDee's frown of confusion
made Shainna laugh. "It's a quote we found earlier that day, a 15th
century Italian poet called Pietro Aretino wrote it. Adam told me we were
friends, there was no room for anything else between us."
"But he's always willing to
ask you to risk your life for him!"
"It's my job, Dee . And his!"
"Not this time. This time
it's personal, so you should stay out of it."
"How am I supposed to do
that? He's going to need backup, and if I know Adam, he's going to make it clear
he wants me."
"Doesn't mean Michael will
agree." DeeDee reasoned. She'd been fidgeting and tidying up the apartment from
the moment she'd started the conversation. Now, she stopped moving. "He does
have some control over Adam."
Shainna laughed at DeeDee's
careful words, barely recognizing the shrill, hysterical edge that turned the
sound brittle. "No one controls Adam," she said, barely above a whisper.
"Michael knows that better than anyone."
"So, what are you going to
do?"
Shainna trembled. "Wait." She returned to the window and stared into the night once again. "I'm going to wait for him. What else can I do?"
Shainna trembled. "Wait." She returned to the window and stared into the night once again. "I'm going to wait for him. What else can I do?"
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