Maximum Risk by Jennifer Lowery

foreplay?”
    “You got it.”
    “I’ll be damned.”
    Avery smiled at the awe in his voice. She hadn’t even begun to plan the wedding she’d called off. And she’d been engaged for almost a year. Tim had pressured her to set a date for months, but she could never do it. Something always got in the way. His work, her work. Was it any surprise he’d finally given her an ultimatum?
    And when backed into a corner, she’d bolted. Instead of cherishing Tim like Ryan so obviously treasured his fiancée, she’d walked away without a backward glance. God, what was wrong with her?
    Her world was falling apart.
    Something pinged off the side of the chopper, startling her.
    The pilot shouted and Ryan shoved her to the floor.
    All hell broke loose.
    ****
    White-hot pain pulsed through his arm. Quinn clamped a hand over the wound, cursing a blue streak. “Kell? Where the hell are you?”
    Kell was a damn ghost—one minute he was there, the next he was gone and bodies were dropping. They’d managed to lure the army in the opposite direction and now the bastards were chasing their own tails.
    “Right behind you, bro.”
    Not in the mood for Kell’s warped sense of humor, he swung around and started trekking in the direction of the chopper. Warm blood leaked through his fingers.
    “You should wrap that.” Kell melted out of the trees and fell into step beside him.
    “Just a scratch.”
    Kell shrugged. “You’re the medic.”
    Quinn cast him a look and said into his lip mic, “Savat, ETA twenty minutes. Immediate take-off, so be ready.”
    “Copy that… Fuck! Hold on.”
    Something popped in Quinn’s ear and he drew back. “Savat, what the hell’s going on?”
    “We’re taking fire!”
    Static filled his headset and he glanced at Kell, who listened with a dark expression. “ Shit.” He smacked a hand against the trunk of a tree, getting perverse pleasure from the pain that shot down his arm.
    “Relax. Savat’s a fighter pilot. He’ll get Ryan and Avery out of the line of fire.”
    Quinn glared at his brother. “And in the meantime we sit here with our dicks swinging in the wind.”
    Kell shrugged. “Nothing we can do until Savat arranges a pickup. So what happened to Avery?”
    Quinn shook his head. “She won’t tell me. Her shoes are gone and she’s got bruising on her arms and neck. You saw the cut on her side.”
    “Torture.”
    “Most likely.”
    Kell’s dark brows drew together. “Shit.”
    “What the hell did Shea say in her call?”
    A mask fell over Kell’s face. “Everything you already know. The name of the guy with the chopper for rent and some kick-ass weapons. She saved us a lot of time and hassle having everything arranged by the time we got here.”
    At what price? But Quinn kept that thought to himself. His personal opinion about Shea Morrissey had no bearing on the here and now. “Nothing else? Your ex—a spook—pops up out of the goddamn blue, gives you this intel, then helps us out? I’m not buying it. That woman can’t be trusted.”
    “You think I don’t fucking know that?”
    Hearing the torment in Kell’s voice, Quinn cursed and let it drop. Now wasn’t the time to unleash Kell’s demons. “Damn it, what’s going on up there?”
    “Savat will handle it.”
    Quinn applied pressure to his wound, wishing to hell he was on that chopper instead of here.
    His gut clenched. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it down here on the ground while they were being shot at in the air.
    “She is the head of a very influential organization,” Kell pointed out, steering the subject back to Avery.
    “There would have been a ransom if they’d kidnapped her for money. The news reported her deceased with the rest of the aid workers.”
    “I can have Shea look into it.”
    “No. We’ll handle it.” He would never do that to his brother. Shea Morrissey had ripped Kell’s heart out of his chest four years ago and he damn well wasn’t letting her do it again. Besides, he had a