Chosen: Part Six (Allure Book 6) Read online




  About this Book

  My name is Grace Delaney. I was born into this country’s most admired political family. When I was sixteen, the media dubbed me “America’s Princess”. I hate being called that, all the more so since I discovered the terrifying secret hidden behind my family’s glittering public image.

  A few months ago, I graduated from college determined to make a life of my own. But now, suddenly, Adam Falzon is in it. The head of an old-world family with a reputation for ruthlessness, he looks like a fallen angel. As attracted as I am to him, I’ve come to suspect that Adam is hiding secrets of his own more deadly and dangerous than I ever want to know. I don’t dare give into my feelings for him.

  But I may not have a choice. With every beat of my heart, he is drawing me further into a web of dark desire. My chances of escaping are slipping away. Worse yet, I’m no longer sure that I want to.

  CHOSEN is a story of dark romance. It contains scenes of coercion, both emotional and physical, and should not be read by anyone who could find that distressing.

  A Note to Readers UPDATED

  A huge thank you to everyone who has gotten in touch with me about CHOSEN. I’m thrilled to hear from each of you and to know that you’re enjoying Adam and Grace’s story. Because so many of you have the same questions about this series, I thought I’d put the answers here:

  How many books will there be?

  Seven. Originally, I had planned to do this story in eight or nine segments but I’ve decided to make Parts Six and Seven longer in order to conclude the story sooner. I’ve taken to heart the many comments from readers who want to know what will happen to Grace and Adam. Part Seven is already in the works. As soon as I know the pub date for it, so will all of you.

  Is this heading toward an HEA?

  Yes, it is and if that ruins the suspense for anyone, I’m sorry. But what can I say? I’m just an HEA kind of girl. I honestly don’t think that I’ll ever be able to write a story that doesn’t end well for the two main characters. Of course, what “end well” means exactly remains to be seen.

  I write two other romance series--ANEW and ARCADIA--and I’ve put both on hold in order to complete CHOSEN as quickly as possible. At the same time, I’m one of those writers who just can’t let a book go until it’s right. I’d love to be able to say that I can publish one part each month but I already know that isn’t true. The best I can say is that I’ll get as close to that as I possibly can. By the way, you can read samples from ANEW and ARCADIA at the end of this book.

  The last question many of you have asked is the one I really can’t answer, at least not completely:

  Where did the idea for CHOSEN come from?

  Readers have already picked up on some references that call to mind certain powerful political families in the U.S. and elsewhere, and they’re right to do so. In addition, one particular individual--a European aristocrat and financier who I won’t name here--played an unwitting role in shaping the character of Adam. But when all is said and done, everyone and everything that happens in CHOSEN is strictly the product of my imagination. In other words, it’s fiction.

  I hope that answers your questions. If it doesn’t, or if you’d just like to get in touch, you can find me on Facebook at Josie on Facebook or email me at [email protected]. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers!

  And now, on with the story

  Table of Contents

  About this Book

  A Note to Readers UPDATED

  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

  Sneak Peek #1

  Sneak Peek #2

  Chapter One

  Adam

  I woke in Hell. Red hot shards of pain pierced my shoulder. The agony radiated through every part of my body but it was nothing compared to the black dread eating me alive.

  Grace was gone.

  I knew it without knowing how I did. Unconsciousness had not protected me from the anguish of her loss. I felt her absence like a vacuum without light or air or warmth. A place where there could be only despair and death.

  Opening my eyes, I glared at the field surgeon looming over me.

  “Let me up.”

  He jerked in surprise but recovered quickly. His smile made me want to punch him. I tried to raise my arm, intent on shoving him out of my way, but nothing happened. My body wouldn’t obey me.

  “Easy,” he said. “We’ve stopped the bleeding and we’re transfusing you. You’ll be in the hospital within the hour.”

  “Fuck that. Where is she?”

  Rolf swam into my field of vision. He looked as though he’d aged a decade in however long I’d been out.

  To his credit, he didn’t sugarcoat it. “Sebastian has her.”

  How was that possible? We’d made it to the safe room, that much I remembered. He shouldn’t have been able to get anywhere near her.

  The answer crashed through my mind at the same time I realized the only reason why I was still alive.

  I wanted to demand how the man I’d always counted on could have let her give herself up for my sake but the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t blame Rolf. It was her, all her. The woman whose passion and courage humbled me.

  I fought to sit up and even managed to move a little until the doctor stopped me with humiliating ease. “Careful,” he said. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”

  He was a good man, doing his job. But I would cheerfully have wrung his neck, assuming that I had the strength for it.

  “To hell with that. I have to--” My breath failed. I only just managed to drag in a searing lungful of air. Hoarsely, I said, “Get me on my feet.”

  “We will,” Rolf said. He laid a hand on my uninjured shoulder, trying to steady me as he had always done with his strength and compassion. “You’ll find her. Don’t doubt that.”

  I didn’t. Sebastian intended for me to come after her. The question twisting my guts into burning knots was what he would do to her before I got there.

  Every moment that Grace was in his hands she was paying for every sin that I’d ever committed. Cold sweat covered me. My heart, or what passed for it, felt as though it was cracking in two.

  A scream rose in me, a howl of torment so annihilating that it ripped me apart. I fought to contain it and failed.

  Everything broke free in that explosion of soul-deep pain--my childhood, my parents, the primal wound of their deaths, Grace and the grace she had brought into my life. All of it, clawing its way out, a monster I could no longer keep locked up inside. It had a life and will of its own and Sebastian--poor, stupid, doomed Sebastian--had set it free.

  Dimly, I thought that I should warn the others, let them know what had gotten loose. But it was too late. I felt the prick of the doctor’s needle in the moment before the darkness took me.

  My last thought was that I would get her back. Even if I had to burn down the world to do it.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  When I woke again, the pain had receded. I was lying on a bed in a white room--white walls and ceiling, white sheets, a white blind over the window, the slats parted enough to give me a glimpse of a stretch of pale grass and beyond that a wall topped with metal spikes.

  The light told me it was early morning, not long after dawn. I started to sit up, discovered that I was tethered
to an IV and cursed.

  The door opened and a nurse hurried in. A guy, young, fit, probably ex-military.

  “Try not to move, Mister Falzon,” he said in clipped German. “The doctor is on his way. I’m going to take your vitals, all right?”

  I nodded, mainly because I didn’t see that I had a choice. I was still weak, although the fear eating at me provided its own source of energy.

  How long had I been out? Where was Grace? What was happening to her? Rage clashed with stomach-churning terror. I embraced it gladly. Why had I ever thought that the darkness inside me needed to be restrained? It was good, pure, honest in its need to kill. It was me.

  “Where is Herr Hauser?” I demanded, referring to Rolf.

  “He just stepped out for a coffee. He’s been here all night. I’m sure he’ll be right back.”

  “How long?” I croaked.

  “You were brought in eighteen hours ago, sir. The doctor will fill you in on the details.”

  A middle-aged, balding man stepped into the room. He nodded to the nurse, smiled at me, and said, “It’s good to see you awake, Mister Falzon. The surgery on your shoulder went well. I saw no indication of nerve or tendon damage. You should recover full mobility in time, with appropriate physical therapy.”

  I barely heard him. All I could really focus on was ‘eighteen’. Eighteen goddamn hours since I’d been lying unconscious while Sebastian had Grace--

  “Get me up,” I said.

  The doctor frowned. “Later today, depending on how you’re doing.”

  “Now.”

  The two men exchanged a glance. I didn’t have to guess the calculation being made. I kept private, as in absolutely discreet, medical clinics on retainer in locations around the world. Until now, I’d never needed one myself but some of my people did from time to time.

  Rolf would have chosen the closest possible clinic, which meant that I was still in Switzerland. In my experience, one of the better qualities of the Swiss was their pragmatism. What the ultra-rich client wanted, he was likely to get.

  Slowly, the doctor nodded. “We can try, Mister Falzon, on the understanding that if it is too soon for you to be up, you will return to bed and cooperate with the necessary medical care.”

  The bastard was expecting me to fall on my face. We’d see about that.

  Five minutes later, I was on my feet and inching my way down the corridor just beyond the room. Rolf chose that moment to reappear.

  Seeing me, he raised an eyebrow, set his coffee down, and said, “About time.”

  With a quick nod, he dismissed the hovering medicos and grasped my elbow. I had to lean on him more heavily than I would have liked but I was determined to keep walking. On my feet, I could think. Flat on my back, all I could do was agonize.

  We continued down the corridor. Whatever they’d given me was wearing off, to my relief. The pain helped me stay focused.

  When we were far enough away from everyone else, Rolf said, “We lost four men. Their families have been notified and are being taken care of. Five others were wounded and are here recovering. Twelve enemy dead. We’re working to identify them now but they look like standard issue mercs.”

  The kind who could be hired by anyone with minimal knowledge of who traded in that kind of human merchandise and enough money to draw their attention.

  “Any contact?” I was desperate for any clue as to where Grace might be.

  Rolf shook his head. “Not yet. Satellite images aren’t great but we’ve got a radar track on a charter that landed at a private airport near Paris. We think Sebastian and his remaining men were on board along with Miss Delaney.”

  I nodded. My cousin had made Paris his base of operations for several years and he was known to have dealing with the city’s less savory residents. He could be finding that useful now.

  For all his athletic prowess, Sebastian was like too many others in my family, prone to the self-indulgence that came with vast wealth and privilege. Even so, I had to wonder how far he’d descended into the vicious underbelly of the City of Lights where terrorists, drug dealers, and panderers to every perversion made common cause.

  “We have men on the ground,” Rolf said. “If he’s there, they’ll find him.”

  “I want a strike force ready to go.” Only to trap Sebastian and assure that he couldn’t escape. For the rest, he was mine; I would kill him myself and enjoy every moment of his agony.

  At my smile of anticipation, Rolf took a step back. He was a perceptive man and he knew me all too well.

  “Are you all right?” he asked cautiously.

  We both knew that he wasn’t talking about my physical condition.

  I flexed my shoulder, letting the pain burn through me. The monster stretched, extending its claws, fangs bared. “Never better. I feel like my old self.”

  An hour later, when the well-paid doctor swallowed his objections and agreed that I was fit to be discharged, the nerve in Rolf’s jaw was still twitching.

  Chapter Two

  Darkness. Suffocating, impenetrable, cutting me off from the world and making me feel as though I had been buried alive. My fear rocketed to agonizing levels.

  I fought it with every breath but I couldn’t lie to myself. The moment that I had told Sebastian that Adam was dying, I saw the rage explode in him. He was the product of a life of privilege that had given him an overpowering sense of entitlement. Even under the best circumstances, he couldn’t tolerate being thwarted. With his bid to seize control of the family hanging by the slim thread of another man’s life, he was barely able to restrain himself.

  Spitting in fury, he had ordered a retreat even as he threatened brutal retaliation for every moment that passed until the codes to the family’s assets were in his hands. I was left with no doubt that he was going to hurt me. The only question was how badly.

  Acute sensory deprivation was an effective start. Vaguely, I remembered a discussion of it in a psych class that I’d taken a few years before. Experienced for too long, it provoked anxiety, hallucinations, and even insanity.

  Already, I was losing track of time. I couldn’t be sure how long it was since I’d been thrust into what was little more than a hole in the ground. An oubliette, the medieval chroniclers had called such a place. A tiny dungeon, hardly large enough for a prisoner to crouch in, accessible only by a trapdoor in the ceiling. Even more terrifyingly, the name literally meant a place to be forgotten. Left to die in thirst, hunger, and madness.

  I forced myself to take a breath. In the darkness, the hand I raised was invisible. Slowly, I moved what felt like a disembodied part of myself until my fingers brushed against rough, dank stone. When I dared to lean closer to it, a scattering of sparkles appeared in front of me.

  At first, I thought they were a figment of my exhausted and terrified mind. But gradually it occurred to me that the tiny shards of almost imperceptible light were from a mineral embedded in the stone. Under ordinary circumstances, my eyes would never have been sensitive enough to notice them. Now they gave me something to hang on to, a connection to the real, solid world beyond the disorienting darkness.

  Where was I? After taking off from a small airport a short drive from the castle, we were in the air less than an hour. I’d been able to hear the drone of the plane engines and make out faint threads of light despite the hood tied over my head. Concentrating on that helped me to cope with the pain in my arms, secured tightly behind my back with plastic ties for the duration of the flight. But despite my best efforts, I had no idea where we landed. Our destination could have been any one of a dozen countries.

  Adam would find me. He would come, he would defeat Sebastian, everything would be all right. I clung to that thought as time passed and I grew colder. The ties had been removed; I would have been able to wrap my arms around my knees if I’d had even a little more room. As it was, I could scarcely move. Even worse, the warmth of my body was no match for the dank chill of the oubliette. I was shivering violently when the hatch above me su
ddenly opened and blinding light poured in.

  “Bring her!”

  Rough hands grabbed me. I was hauled up and shoved through an open door. After being in darkness for what felt like hours, the pain from the light was so intense that I had to keep my eyes squeezed almost closed. Even so, I made out Sebastian standing in a large, circular room without windows or furnishings. A garish mural painted on one wall depicted naked bodies writhing in what looked weirdly like a mosh pit. I didn’t even try to make sense of that. Instead, I concentrated on the man who was my greatest enemy and the worst threat to my survival.

  He was still wearing fatigues but they were new, crisply ironed and clean. His blond hair was slicked back from his face, making the scar that bisected his left cheek even more starkly evident. It should have served as a reminder to him of the price for challenging Adam. But instead it seemed only to have fueled his lust for vengeance.

  “Grace!” He exclaimed when he saw me. “How good of you to join us. I hope your accommodations are everything you expected?”

  Caught between wondering if he was as crazy as he sounded or just pretending to be, I straightened my shoulders. Along with the rest of me, they were severely cramped from being confined in such a small space. The instinct to survive drove me to repress any sign of weakness.

  “They’re lovely, thank you,” I said. “I’ve never had an opportunity before to experience the finer details of medieval imprisonment.”

  His eyes widened. He barked a laugh, fisted his hand and punched me in the face. I reeled backward and fell, hitting the stone floor hard.

  Two of his men dragged me upright. My face throbbed and the pain at the base of my spine told me that I’d probably cracked the small bone there. I stared at Sebastian in shock that gave way quickly to disgust.