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Hunted
Hunted
Hunted
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Hunted

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When Harlow Duquesne, the granddaughter of the President of the United States, goes missing on a humanitarian mission in a foreign country, COBRA Securities agent Sawyer Oldham jumps on a plane to find her. With little information to go on, he manages to locate her despite the odds, but during their escape, they find themselves trapped in the middle of a revolution led by rival drug cartels. Amid bomb blasts, burning buildings and automatic gunfire, they flee for their lives...and fall in love. But no matter how far they go, they can't outrun betrayal.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherVelvet Vaughn
Release dateApr 1, 2018
ISBN9780999201107
Hunted
Author

Velvet Vaughn

Velvet Vaughn was born in Indiana and spent fifteen years in communications, public relations, marketing and executive management in amateur sports. Articles she has written have been published in several magazines and reprinted in most major newspapers across the country. She served as editor, writer and designer for five sport magazines including one that was distributed to over 140 countries around the world, and one that was displayed in the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. To learn more about Velvet or sign up for her newsletter, visit her at http://www.velvetvaughn.com or http://www.facebook.com/authorvelvetvaughn.

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    Book preview

    Hunted - Velvet Vaughn

    Copyright © 2018 VELVET VAUGHN LLC

    ISBN: 978-0-9992011-0-7

    This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

    Visit Velvet’s website at www.velvetvaughn.com and her Facebook Fanpage at www.facebook.com/authorvelvetvaughn.

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to all the readers who wrote to me and requested Sawyer’s story.

    Acknowledgments

    I would like to sincerely thank the members of my Velvet Vaughn Street Team who help spread the word: Cindi R., Debbie M., Gary A., Karen D., Karen J., Lisa B., Tammy T., Lisa B., Sharon W., Paulyn A, and Shelley C. I’m so thankful for all of you and truly appreciate your support! I would also like to sincerely thank my social media guru, Kristy O!

    And as always, a huge thank you to my mom. I couldn’t do this without you!

    Table of Contents

    Copyright

    Dedication

    Prologue

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    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

    Epilogue

    Notes

    About the Author

    Prologue

    Sawyer Oldham gaped at Talia Cohen and Hunter McGrath from across the aisle of the COBRA Securities Gulfstream, his head shaking in amazement. Talia was fretting over Hunter. Fretting. He didn’t think the tough-as-nails former Mossad agent had it in her to worry. But that’s precisely what she was doing to their wounded coworker. He opened his mouth to point this out, but she slashed a finger in his direction.

    Shut it.

    His mouth snapped closed. Did the woman have eyes in the back of her head? He held up his hands in surrender. Wouldn’t think of it.

    She turned to him and glared. You could help me, you know. She jerked a thumb in Hunter’s direction. He just got out of the hospital. He needs to be lying down.

    Babe, I’m fine, Hunter protested, grabbing at one of the hands that had strayed to his bandages. I’ve done nothing but lie down for what feels like weeks. My behind’s sore.

    Babe. Sawyer shook his head. It didn’t take long for the two to hook up.

    Hunter, you were shot numerous times. You’re practically human swiss cheese! You need to rest, Talia insisted. Now lie down.

    Only if you lie with me, babe. Hunter’s grin was lecherous as he grabbed her hips.

    Ugh. Sawyer slammed his eyes shut and clasped his hands over his ears. People, please, I just ate.

    You’re just jealous, Hunter smirked.

    Probably. He cracked a lid, happy to see both were still upright, and he flipped Hunter off, earning another smirk. Talia, don’t worry about him, he drawled as he clasped his hands behind his head and crossed his feet. With Oldham blood coursing through his veins, he’s stronger than ever. Hell, he’s practically Superman. He could leap tall buildings and all that.

    Hunter narrowed his eyes. How long do you plan on holding that over my head?

    Sawyer’s jaw dropped open in feigned shock, and he held out his hands. You save a person’s ass, give them some of your life force—

    Gross.

    Ew, you make it sound nasty.

    He ignored them. —and this is the thanks you get?

    In other words, forever, Hunter groused as he crossed his arms.

    Sawyer chuckled. Yep.

    Static crackled, and then a voice drifted from the speakers, If Babe, Superman, and the skiter could please take your seats and buckle up, we’re making our descent now.

    Skiter? What the hell is that? Sawyer called out loud enough for Wyatt Hollister, their coworker and current pilot, to hear.

    The intercom buzzed again. Figure it out, Ivy League.

    Hunter glanced up from punching buttons on his phone with a triumphant grin. Ha. He called you a braggart in Aussie.

    What? No.

    Talia checked the screen. Yes, Sawyer, I’m afraid he did.

    Well, that’s just uncalled for. Besides, I prefer the term savior.

    Oh, for the love of…here. Hunter held out an arm. Take it back. I beg you. You can use my knife. Suddenly, his eyes widened. Uh, Talia? Babe? What are you doing? You know we’re not alone, right?

    Hush it, the woman said as she fumbled around in Hunter’s lap. I’m checking to make sure your belt is buckled. She gave it a mighty tug, and he grunted.

    Sawyer bit back a laugh at the disgruntled look on Hunter’s face. Satisfied that his belt was indeed cinched, she moved on to the pillow behind his head.

    When Sawyer had first met the petite dynamo, he’d been impressed by her fighting ability and shooting skills, and frankly, she intimidated him. He’d noticed her beauty—it was impossible not to—but he thought she was cold as ice. He was pretty sure there wasn’t one person on the COBRA Securities staff whose ass she couldn’t kick. To see her acting all nurturing and feminine was blowing his mind. True, he didn’t know her well. Talia hadn’t been around long before she was sent on her first assignment—where, coincidently, she met Hunter. Then her father unexpectedly passed away, and she was gone for weeks. But in the time Sawyer had known her, he’d found her utterly professional, extremely capable, and positively unflappable. Seeing her acting, well, human, was a revelation. She even smiled now. Unbelievable.

    As it did too often, his mind drifted to another dark-haired beauty. Harlow Duquesne. Du-cane. He loved the sound of her name. Granddaughter of the first female president of the United States. How long had it been since he’d seen her? Kissed her? It felt like years instead of weeks. Sawyer couldn’t count how many times he punched in her number, only to disconnect before the call could go through. He was happy for Hunter, his fellow former FBI agent, but he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy. What would it be like to have Harlow fussing over him? Worrying about his safety? Did she even think of him?

    He never believed in love at first sight. Sawyer always thought it was something card companies and romance writers made up to sell their products. But the moment he looked into Harlow’s eyes, he’d been a goner. She’d been terrified after her younger sister had been abducted. At that moment, he would have done anything in his power to ease her fear.

    He avoided calling her because he wasn’t in her league, even though he also came from wealth. He was a former government employee now working in the private security sector. She was from the most prominent family in America, maybe the world. What could he offer a woman like her?

    But watching how happy Hunter and Talia were together made Sawyer realize how much he was hurting himself by being insecure. Life was short. Their last case drove that point home after Hunter’s brush with death. Harlow made him feel things he’d never felt before. He wanted the chance to explore their connection, see if it was real, or if she even felt the same way. He had time off now that the Colorado op was over. Maybe he’d catch a plane to New York.

    Chapter One

    Harlow Duquesne slid sunglasses on as she ducked through the doorway of the small prop plane and stepped onto metal stairs that had been pushed up against the fuselage. Humidity slapped her in the face, and she had to jerk her hand back from the handrail. The sun had heated it to scorching.

    Enjoy your stay in our country, Ms. Schaffer, Ms. Brown.

    Thank you. She smiled at the flight attendant standing at the base of the steps as she passed. They’d just landed in La Grande, Coslos. Harlow was with her friend Carmen Brown on a humanitarian mission to provide books, supplies, and toys to underprivileged children. If her parents only knew. She was sure they’d send a whole regiment of troops to retrieve their wayward daughter and bring her home.

    It had been a last-minute decision to jet to the small, landlocked South American nation with a group from Relief Now. She’d only met Valeria Vargas, the executive director, two weeks ago. Valeria had been overworked and stressed about organizing the trip, and to blow off steam, she attended one of Harlow’s yoga classes. After the session, they struck up a conversation. Harlow was impressed by the woman’s drive and passion for helping the less fortunate. When Valeria lamented the lack of volunteers for their next mission, Harlow knew it was something she wanted to do.

    Carmen Brown had also attended the class. Knowing Valeria needed all the hands she could get, Harlow talked Carmen into coming along to help. It had been a hard sell, but she’d finally worn the other woman down. Harlow secretly wondered if Carmen agreed just to shut her up.

    One major selling point—besides helping underprivileged kids—had been that they would fly out on Friday morning and return Monday, so it would only be two days off work. Carmen had plenty of accrued vacation days from her accounting job on Wall Street since the woman was a bonafide workaholic. Though they would only be in Coslos for a short time, the work they’d be doing would be long-lasting for the children of the struggling country.

    Valeria pushed hard for volunteers because this trip was vital for her. Her paternal grandparents immigrated to the United States from Coslos many years ago. She still had distant relatives in the country, and she planned on staying longer than Harlow and Carmen.

    When they arrived at La Guardia earlier, Harlow had been surprised to learn that she and Carmen were the only ones flying over with Valeria. She thought a dozen members of Relief Now would make the trip. Valeria told her that a group was already in Coslos, and they’d rented office space and arranged hotel rooms. The rest would arrive over the weekend.

    Tell me again why I let you talk me into this? Carmen griped. It must be two hundred degrees in the shade.

    What shade, Harlow joked. It was dry, barren ground as far as the eye could see. Still, the country boasted some of the most beautiful natural wonders in the world, including an expansive rainforest. Hopefully, they’d come across trees and greenery soon. And we’re doing this for the children, Harlow replied, the same answer she gave each time Carmen questioned their sanity. Just remember the kids.

    Yeah, yeah, the kids, Carmen muttered.

    A dark-haired man stepped into her line of view, blocking her path, and she stopped abruptly. He was a couple of inches taller than her, maybe five-six or seven. His sparkling brown eyes swept over her in blatant male appreciation, and a smile tipped the corner of his lips. He reached for her hand.

    Well, well, who might you be? His accent glided from his lips.

    This is Liz Schaffer, Valeria introduced, coming up beside them. She’s one of the women I told you about, Andrés. She’s here to support our cause.

    You neglected to tell me how beautiful she is, the man—apparently Andrés—said, his gaze never leaving her face as he brushed a kiss against the back of her hand. He flashed a sexy smile that showcased pearly white teeth against swarthy skin.

    And this is Carmen Brown.

    Carmen, Andrés greeted, never taking his eyes from Harlow. Here, let me take your bag.

    No, that’s— Her protest died on her lips as he removed the strap from her shoulder and placed it over his. Before she could ask for it back, someone called his name, and he turned to her. Excuse me for a moment.

    Carmen slid her arm through Harlow’s and whispered, Wow, he’s a hottie. I think you should go for it, Harl…Liz. Some hot, sweaty sex with an exotic foreigner is just what the doctor ordered. And by doctor, I mean me.

    Harlow chuckled. I’m here to work, Carmen. The children, remember?

    All work and no play. When Harlow glanced at her, she raised a hand. Just saying. A little between the sheets action might loosen all those tight muscles much better and oodles more fun than yoga.

    Harlow wanted to tell her that there was only one man she wanted to tangle limbs with under the covers. Sawyer Oldham. She held back mentioning him, as she had after she’d met the sexy security specialist and former FBI agent. Every time she started to tell Carmen about him, she bit her tongue. It was as if talking about him would jinx any chance she had with him—not that she thought there would be a chance since they lived hundreds of miles apart. Besides, she liked him being her secret.

    She and Carmen had been friends for almost a year after Carmen attended one of her sessions. They’d grown close, and Harlow felt like she could tell her anything. But her feelings for Sawyer were personal. Plus, if she confessed her feelings about him, her friend would drive her crazy, insisting she call him. She might need the push, but she would do it her way. Eventually.

    Andrés returned, jarring her from her fantasies. He threw an arm around her and drew her close. The spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. Harlow cast a glance over her shoulder at Carmen, who was smiling widely and wagging her brows. Harlow rolled her eyes. She wanted to protest his gesture of familiarity, but she didn’t get the chance.

    The van is waiting for us, Valeria said. We need to set up. We only have Liz and Carmen for a few days. Andrés, do you have the keys to the temporary office?

    Yep. Right here. He patted the pocket on his chest. The van’s over here.

    Andrés led them to an older model, red Ford mini-van, and slid the side door open. Harlow climbed into the middle row, hoping Andres would take the front. Unfortunately, another man she hadn’t noticed slipped into the driver’s seat, and Valeria commandeered the passenger side. Carmen scrambled into the back, the traitor. That left Andrés. His grin was wolfish as he climbed in next to her and scooted over until they were touching. She was starting to get pissed.

    Do you mind moving over a bit?

    He leaned over and whispered in her ear, Of course, with more breath than necessary, ruffling strands of her hair. Then he inched closer, trapping her against the side of the van.

    The other direction, she insisted.

    He chuckled and moved away until they were no longer touching, but she could still feel his body heat. She should feel flattered that such a handsome man was interested in her. Instead, she was annoyed.

    She wasn’t conceited and knew her looks were none of her doing, but genes passed from her parents. Sometimes she played up her beauty, but other times, like today, she downplayed it. She wore no makeup, and her hair was fastened into a ponytail. Her clothes were functional instead of fashionable. Sunglasses covered her eyes. Andrés treated her like a Miss America contender, which was disconcerting. Frankly, she didn’t want his undivided attention.

    He leaned close again to whisper, After we visit the offices, how about I show you around my city? Then maybe dinner, candlelight, some wine, dancing…

    She had to give it to him. He was charismatic and charming. And persistent.

    Thanks, but I won’t be staying long enough to sightsee. I’m here to volunteer.

    "Ah, but what is the American saying? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy—or in your case, Jill. He sounded just like Carmen. He reached over and swept a strand of hair that escaped the ponytail behind her ear. She batted it away. Then he removed her sunglasses. She was a born and raised Southern girl and current New Yorker, and she didn’t take heat from anyone. Still, she didn’t want to offend the people she would be working with for the next few days.

    I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable with you touching me. I have a boyfriend.

    Carmen cleared her throat, then reached around the seat and pinched her. Harlow jumped. So, okay, fine, it was a lie. She didn’t, though there was one man she thought about constantly. His hair was sunny blond, and his eyes sky blue. He was tall and muscular and had been her savior when she desperately needed one. Just thinking about him caused a full-body shudder. Andrés mistook the gesture and moved closer again, his arm wrapping around her. She growled.

    "Are you cold, Amado?"

    Did he just call her sweetheart? No, the opposite, actually. So, if you don’t mind… She let the implication hang, assuming he would get the hint. Apparently not, as he drew the back of a finger down her cheek.

    "Tienes los ojos más bonitos del mundo," he murmured.

    Seriously? The prettiest eyes in the world? Was this guy for real? He just met her. Suddenly, the van braked hard, and they jerked forward. Andrés took advantage and threw an arm over her, grabbing her breast. She knocked his hand off as the driver cursed at another car. Andrés ignored her reproach but chastised the driver, who muttered an apology.

    Andrés chuckled and leaned closer again. It is a good thing you don’t understand Spanish. Luis’ colorful language was not meant for such delicate ears.

    She opened her mouth to tell him, one, he was coming on way too strong, and two, she understood Spanish perfectly. Something made her bite the words back. She searched her memory, trying to remember if she and Valeria had discussed her fluency in the native language, but she couldn’t recall.

    Can I have my sunglasses back, please? My eyes are sensitive to the sun.

    But of course.

    She held out her hand, but he ignored it to slide them on himself. About dinner…

    I’m flattered, but again, I’m only here to work.

    He sighed with mock hurt. You are a tough nut to crack, Liz Schaffer, but I am determined.

    Great. She was looking forward to that—not. Calling her Liz Schaffer was another thing. No one knew her true identity as Harlow Duquesne, the President of the United States’ granddaughter. To them, she was Liz Schaffer, yoga teacher, artist, budding humanitarian. Occasionally, people recognized her, but she could fly under the radar for the most part. She used her middle names of Liz, shortened from Elizabeth, and Schaffer, her mother’s maiden name, when she taught classes. She learned at an early age that when she was listed as Harlow Duquesne, it brought out curiosity seekers and fame mongers.

    She wasn’t ashamed of her family—the opposite. But people treated her differently when she was Harlow Duquesne. They wanted things from her she wasn’t willing to give—mainly in the form of political favors. When they learned she had no interest, they lost theirs in her.

    The only person who had ever made her feel special as Harlow was Sawyer Oldham. He knew about her family, but he wasn’t intimidated. His family was as well-connected and probably wealthier than hers. But he was remarkably down-to-earth. And so damn hot.

    Harlow had been racked with fear the first time she’d met Sawyer, but her heart had recognized him even in her emotional state. She’d felt as if something monumental had happened, and it wasn’t Zoe’s abduction.

    Harlow had hoped to hear from Sawyer in the days that followed, but her phone had stayed depressingly silent. She wasn’t too shy to go after what she wanted, and she’d almost done so several times. The only thing holding her back was the thought that he didn’t feel the same way. Then Harlow flashed back to the kiss they shared. Wow. What a kiss. Steamy. Passionate. Devastating. It rocked her world.

    She kept in touch with Taylor Costa, the stepmother of Kai Costa, the brave boy who rescued her sister when she was kidnapped. She and Taylor had become fast friends. Though she tried not to ask, Taylor constantly dropped bits of info about Sawyer. Harlow had finally decided to call him when she learned from Taylor that he was in Colorado on an assignment.

    She knew his job was dangerous, and she hated he put himself in harm’s way, but that was also one of the things she admired about him. He didn’t have to work. His parents could buy Manhattan twenty times over. Instead of leading a life of leisure, he became an FBI agent and now a security specialist. He put his life on the line for others. A genuine hero.

    We’ll drop our luggage off at the hotel first, Valeria informed them. We can walk to the offices from there.

    When will the others arrive?

    Tomorrow, Valeria told her. We should have everything set up by then.

    Harlow glanced at the scenery as they drove through the sprawling town of La Grande, named for the river that ran through the city. Most of the buildings were

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