Wicked Temptation: The Lost Treasure
He’s always been a protector. She’s strong enough to fight on her own. This time, survival depends on each other.
Special Forces Sgt. Cal “Baggs” Baggnell walked away from Iona Desmond. Carving out his own heart hurt—but watching the woman he loves charge headfirst into danger hurt even more.
Iona loves Cal with her whole being, but she couldn’t change the core of who she is to fit his protective nature. He knew exactly who she was when they met—the need for adventure is in her DNA.
Now, their paths collide in Puerto Jardin, where Iona has talked her way into Cal’s op. And he’s been assigned to work with her.
Their bait: the Lost Treasure of Trujillo. Their target: arms dealer Jorge Torres. Their problem: Torres isn’t the only predator closing in.
With ruthless drug lords, rival treasure hunters, and a powerful Russian mob lieutenant obsessed with finding the billion-dollar fortune, Cal and Iona must put their past aside. The deeper they dig, the deadlier the game becomes.
As betrayals mount and enemies tighten their grip, survival depends on one thing: Trust. If they fail, they won’t just lose their second chance—they’ll lose everything.
Wicked Temptation is a stand-alone romance with a HEA. There are references to events that happened in earlier books, but it’s not necessary to read them to enjoy this story.
Indulge in a protective Special Forces hero and a heroine who works undercover for the Paladin League as a photojournalist. This story features a second-chance romance, identical twins, and a kick-butt heroine.
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EXCERPT:
“Baggs,” BD said somewhere behind them, “how do you know our guest?”
Cal inhaled sharply and his muscles tensed.
“Io is my wife.”
The words hit her like a jolt. Of course he’d say it like that—direct, unvarnished, a fact dropped into the room like a grenade. Her stomach twisted. She kept her eyes closed for one more heartbeat, wishing she could stay in the place where she felt safe and not the place where reality waited. She hated that part of her still wanted the title he’d walked away from.
Silence sharpened around them.
Io stepped back.
Cal’s arms tightened for a split second, and then he released her. The loss of his warmth was immediate, a cold draft across her skin despite the humidity of Trujillo. She forced herself not to reach for him again. Forced herself to remember why she shouldn’t. She’d already learned what happened when she let herself believe she belonged with him.
She turned to her sister.
Exactly what she’d expected. Hurt, anger, tears. “Ayla—”
“You got married?”
Oz moved to Ayla’s side. Io felt a flicker of gratitude and irritation. It had always been her job to protect Ayla. To absorb the hard things so her sister didn’t have to.
She shot Cal a look. “We eloped. We went to Las Vegas while Cal had leave.”
“Vegas? Did you get married by an Elvis impersonator?”
Oz tugged Ayla closer.
Io felt her temper climb. “Sure, showgirls and all. What else would you get at a Vegas wedding? Certainly not a real chapel with a real minister.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. I’m sorry I hurt you, but you don’t get to take free shots at my wedding.” Cal and Oz stayed wisely silent.
“When did you get married?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Hell. “January.”
“It’s July.” Ayla threw that out like a gauntlet. “You had months to tell me.”
“And the marriage isn’t in your personnel file,” BD added to Cal. “I would have seen that.”
Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
BD waited. When Cal stayed quiet, he said, “Notification protocols, benefits, next-of-kin—”
“Io has her own health coverage. She’s not dependent on me.”
She wasn’t dependent on anyone. Not now. Not ever.
“And if you were injured or killed?” BD pressed. “I never would have known to contact Ms. Desmond.”
Io flinched. She didn’t want to think about Cal dying, but his job came with risks. Serious ones.
Ayla’s gaze was sharp, wounded. “That’s why I didn’t see you in February, isn’t it? You were with him!” She pointed at Cal as if she were a noir detective.
Sighing, Io said, “Cal was stationed in Germany. The commute to California was a little tough.”
“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t call. Or text.”
“It wasn’t a vacation.”
“It was a honeymoon.”
That hit hard. Io was too tired for this. Cal stood behind her, close enough she could feel him, and she wished, just for a second, that she could lean into him the way Ayla leaned into Oz. But she was the strong one. The one who held everyone else up. She didn’t get to lean.
“Ay, I’m not going to argue. I’m sorry I hurt you. It was never about hurting you. If you want to keep ripping at me, we can do it later. In private.”
“I don’t want to rip at you, I just want to know why you shut me out.”
Io eyed the table. She could reach it, hold on, stay on her feet. Her energy was gone and Ayla’s questions were the hard stuff.
They’d both been shaped by their parents, but in opposite ways.
Her vision blurred. The room tilted. She swayed.
Cal moved before she even registered she was unsteady enough to fall. It was pure instinct, nothing more. Certainly not love. She knew that. But his arms locked around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. Solid. Unyielding. Familiar in a way that made something inside her crack.
“I got you, Io,” he murmured, voice low against her ear. “I told you that earlier.”
She let her hands drift to his, trying to remember how to stay upright. Her muscles trembled with the effort.
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” Io forced her gaze to meet her twin’s. Her throat burned. “Because we got married in January and it was over in March. That’s why. Happy now, Ayla?”
Author Bio:
Patti O'Shea's passions are writing, airplanes and traveling. Fortunately, she's been able to enjoy all three. After receiving a degree in advertising copywriting, she took a job with a major U.S. airline and now works in 757 Engineering. Besides teaching her about the planes she loves, it's given her an opportunity to travel to places like Australia, Papua New Guinea and Canada's Yukon Territory.
Writing, though, remains her primary love. Patti created her first romance when she was in junior high school and has been hooked ever since. She should have figured out she was a writer years earlier, however, since her dolls had such involved lives, complete with goals, motivation and conflict.
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