His Destiny (HIS Series Book 5) Read online

  Despite their secrets, he’ll discover she’s always been his destiny.

  Trent slipped her onto his lap, where she could’ve sworn his arousal poked her. His hand almost palmed the side of her face with his fingers in her hair and his thumb on her jawline before it wiped away the stray tears she couldn’t stop from falling. “Oh, Kelly. My angel.”

  She didn’t have the time to react to the endearment because he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, ever so softly. The brief contact lit a need for him inside her that threatened to erupt. “Kiss me again,” she whispered.

  With a smile, he leaned close again. “Gladly.”

  Adding his second hand to rest on the other side of her face, he pulled her to him and took her lips in a deep, soul-searing kiss. Their mouths open, their tongues making love to each other, shot fire to her core. Not that she’d need a kiss to want to make love to Trent McKenzie, but the kiss surely enhanced the excitement. The difference this time and the last time was that he wouldn’t be hiding from her. She’d have every part of him, scars and all.

  Other HIS Series Novels

  by Sheila Kell

  “Sheila Kell’s HIS series is easily one of my favorites.”

  —A One-Click Addict’s Book Blog

  HIS DESIRE

  Believing he is the reason FBI Special Agent Kate Ross is injured in a drive-by shooting, HIS leader Jesse Hamilton pulls the full force of HIS in to protect her. Making a decision that could cost Kate her life, Jesse has to decide how far he’s willing to go to save the woman he loves.

  “ 5-Edge of your seat, Lust filled, Emotional-Stars ”

  —BookwormBetties

  HIS CHOICE

  Tangled with Baltimore’s biggest crime lord, AJ Hamilton is ordered to scare off a pesky reporter. On the run for their lives, AJ is faced with a choice and no matter the option he chooses, he may not be able to save Megan Rogers or their hearts.

  “Sheila Kell has created a stand alone entry that will have readers wanting more!;”

  —InD’tale Magazine

  HIS RETURN

  Haunted by that fateful night when he woke to Emily Hamilton in his bed and a furious best friend banishing him, Jake Cavanaugh flees. Returning four years later, Jake grapples with his new status as father and the peril that surrounds his family.

  “A wonderful mesh of love, loss, and suspense.”

  —Sharon Gibbs, bestselling and award-winning author

  HIS CHANCE

  When Rylee Hawkins is in trouble, Devon Hamilton steps away from the HIS command center and into the field. Then danger comes knocking and the threat against Rylee becomes real, Devon gears up for a fight, and like their one hot night in Vegas, all bets are off.

  “Another mind blowing read from author Sheila Kell.”

  —Book-Lover Book Blog

  Hamilton Investigation & Security

  HIS Series, Book Five

  Trent & Kelly

  HIS DESTINY

  Copyright © 2017 by Sheila Kell

  Publisher: Cunningham Books

  Editor: Hot Tree Editing

  Interior Design: Polgarus Studio

  Cover Designer: CT Cover Creations

  Cover Models: Rick Van Den Bosch and Kaitlin Hughes

  Photographer: Eric Battershell Photography

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, Cunningham Books, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  ISBN 978-0-9978489-5-3

  To Dawn Stanton Tohill

  The best older sister anyone can have

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Did you enjoy this book?

  About The Author

  Writing HIS DESTINY was no different than writing any of my other books. I reached out to several people who helped me with something I used in the book whether it be a name or a concept. It is amazing the people who will step up to be helpful. I’d like to recognize these people.

  Never being pregnant, I had to have quite a bit of help on that front. Anne Alexander helped find a unique craving a woman can experience. When it came to the C-section, my sisters stepped up and walked me through it. However it was their husbands who provided the most insight into what was happening.

  I like to offer up naming some thing to my Facebook Reader Group. In this book, Helen McNabb named the band playing in Montana Whiskey Straight, and KJ Resseguie named the puppy Mollie.

  Much appreciation goes to the team that helps put this together—Eric Battershell Photography, CT Cover Creations, Polgarus Studios, and Hot Tree Editing. Without this group of four, I’d never get the book to market.

  I can’t just mention Hot Tree Editing. Becky Johnson is by far the best editor in the business. Without her, this would’ve been much different, and boring.

  THE PERSON WHO invented maternity pants was a freakin’ genius. Kelly Williams struggled to fasten her blue down jacket covering her bulging belly again. If only they’d invent a good maternity jacket that was as comfortable as her jeans, she’d be a happy camper.

  At five months pregnant, she already felt as big as a house, especially since she’d had to abandon the clothing she typically wore. Although the initial joy of being pregnant, combined with shopping for all the cute maternity clothes excited her, the thrill was quickly wearing off. She missed her short, tight-fitting dresses.

  “Kelly, I don’t like leaving you like this. I wanted you to fly home with me for the wedding. In your condition, you don’t need to be traveling alone.”

  Barely keeping from tightening her gloved hands into fists as her ire rose, Kelly instead reached out and clasped the hand of Brian Platt, her fiancé. The man didn’t know the first thing about pregnant women if he thought she couldn’t travel by herself. Pregnant women could do most anything. Sure, they shouldn’t lift heavy items, but the airport has people who work for tips to do that and more. She squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a week. Besides, you’re the one who’s going home early.”

  Walking beside her, with his leather, messenger bag strapped across his chest and h
is wheeled luggage in his hand, he grimaced. “I know, sweetheart. Something’s come up, and I need to talk with Dad.”

  She loved Mike Platt. Growing up, he’d been like a father to her, maybe since she and Brian had been tied at the hip most of their life. As his high school sweetheart, she’d spent plenty of time at the Platt ranch escaping the craziness of too many siblings at her family’s home. “How is he?”

  Brian shook his head. “It’s hard to tell. He’s still weak and his cough is really bad. The doctors still don’t know what’s going on.”

  Her mind wondered if part of his undiagnosed illness might have something to do with his other son leaving without a word. Then she shook it off. He’d always been a strong man and while his son leaving might make him sad, it wouldn’t bring down his health. Nibbling on her cold lip, she worried about her own family. Her father was about a decade older than Brian’s father.

  As she thought of her father, she knew she still wasn’t ready to face her family. She’d put off her and Brian’s wedding as long as she could. Being five months pregnant shortened her time line. Her parents would expect her to answer to not living up to the values they’d ingrained into her from the time she was a little girl. A fist clenched around her heart.

  “Kelly, did you hear me?” Brian asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, no.” Smiling up at him, she asked, “What did you say?”

  Leaning down, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Just that I love you and can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

  At the crosswalk, they looked both ways and began to cross on their way to the parking lot to get Brian off to the airport.

  Her heart pained her. She loved him. She did. She just wasn’t in love with him despite wishing so hard that she did. She just hoped it would be enough. Guessing it had to be, she whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Brian’s hand was ripped from hers when something pushed into them. Knocked to the street, her belly tightened. Her heart constricted in panic when she reached to support her baby as she landed on her side. Oh God, please let Ashley be okay.

  Taking deep gulps of cold air, her lungs burned as she fought for each breath. With her racing heart full of fear, she pulled herself into a sitting position, looking around herself dazed. Her pulse pounded in her ears, blocking her ability to hear let alone think.

  A woman rushed to her side with a phone to her ear talking. Kelly shook her head, fighting the loudness, trying to concentrate on the woman. Pulling the cell away from her ear, the woman asked, “Are you okay, honey?”

  Kelly focused on the woman’s moving lips, letting her words register. It took her a minute to assess whether she was injured. There’d probably be a few scrapes and a bruise or two that she couldn’t see dressed as she was, but she appeared okay. But, the baby. “I think so…” Her heart picked up speed once more. Fear wove its way through her body. “But my baby… I’m not sure about the baby.”

  The woman patted her on the shoulder in a gentle, motherly fashion. “Don’t you worry none. There’s an ambulance on the way. My name is Ethel. What’s yours?”

  On autopilot, Kelly nodded as she looked around herself, taking stock of all that had happened. “Brian,” slipped from her lips. Where was he? What the hell had happened?

  The woman clucked, offering her a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid your husband is pretty bad off. There was an EMT on the sidewalk. He’s working on him until the ambulance arrives.”

  Her gut clenched, nausea climbing up her throat. She had to go to him. Putting her hands down to help her stand, she ignored the tears blurring her vision. “I have to see him.”

  The woman’s hand touched her shoulder again, but this time it pushed her down with a force she wouldn’t have expected from a woman who couldn’t be more than five-two, with heels. “No. You need to remain here. You don’t need anything to upset you and that baby.”

  My baby. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, she brushed away an escaped tear and then craned her neck to see Brian. He was so far away from her. She shook her head, loosening more tears. She looked on, straining to see what was happening through her blurred vision, but he was surrounded by men, some stood, and some knelt, but all blocked her view.

  Turning back to the woman by her side, she tried to smile and remember her name. Ester? Ethel? Ethel. “Ethel, what happened?”

  “Oh, a car plowed right into the two of you on the crosswalk. Pulled out of a spot and gunned it. Your husband pushed you out of the way at the last minute.”

  Kelly blinked slowly not bothering to correct her and appreciating the directness of the woman. She couldn’t handle anyone’s emotions but her own.

  Brian had saved her from getting hit. She gulped as worry gnawed at her every nerve. “Did the driver stop?”

  Ethel pursed her lips. “No. The bastard kept driving.”

  A hit and run. The thought shook her, bringing back with it some semblance of herself. The news helped shake off some of the shock. Son of a bitch. They’d both looked both ways to make sure it was clear to cross. Dammit. Her frustration raised her pulse rate, and she reminded herself to remain calm for little Ashley’s sake. “Did someone get his license plate number?” The police could run it and find the asshole who hurt them. Hurt. That had her looking again toward Brian. She couldn’t sit here while he was injured. He needed her by his side.

  Struggling to her feet, a burst of determination pulsed through her. She thanked the woman for her kindness but told her she had to see Brian. As sirens neared, she closed in on where he lay. His leg was bent at an odd angle, and that relieved her a little as a broken leg healed fine. Then she looked up his body, and her blood froze. With her hand to her mouth, she held back her gasp. Brian bled from his head. And she meant really bled. That couldn’t be good. He appeared to be laboring to breathe.

  Oh God.

  The EMTs jumped out of the ambulance and spoke with the man she guessed was the EMT on the sidewalk while they worked. As they did, she heard Brian ask about her. Pushing her way through, she steeled herself. She needed to stay strong for him. They could fix him. This was the twenty-first century with modern medicine.

  She made it by his side when the EMTs lifted the gurney. They stopped for a brief moment, and she grabbed Brian’s hand.

  “I love you,” he gasped. “If I don’t make it,”—pain masked his face—“take care of our little girl.”

  Kelly’s belly tightened again. Their baby kicked under her jacket. Relief at that small wonder rippled through her. Their baby was okay. “Don’t say anything like that. You’ll be just fine.” Despite her determination to remain strong, her voice wavered.

  “Ma’am, we’ve got to go,” an EMT told her.

  Not wanting to let go, but knowing she had to, Kelly dropped Brian’s hand. “I love you.”

  After the ambulance departed with Brian, she stood frozen, fearful of what would happen. She didn’t want to lose him. Ethel approached her and offered her a ride to the hospital. Normally, she’d give an emphatic negative answer to a stranger, but she shook so badly, she couldn’t drive safely. She knew this, so, she accepted the ride with a police officer agreeing to meet her there.

  Sitting in a corner all alone in the hospital waiting room, she remembered her last words to Brian.

  Guilt plagued her. Anxious to finally marry and have a family, Kelly had settled for Brian, her high school sweetheart, when he’d come to Baltimore several months ago to win her over. Only he hadn’t truly been her Mr. Right, and things hadn’t turned out as she’d expected. They were having a baby, and she’d been reluctant to actually wed because she wasn’t in love with him.

  No longer able to sit, she stood and walked down the hallway. When she found a women’s bathroom, she slipped inside and, after making sure she was alone, at least for the moment, she pulled out her cell phone. Cycling through numbers, she found the one she needed and hit the Call button.

  “Hello,” Mike Platt answere
d the phone. “Kelly, is that you? Do you have an update?”

  Pain for Mike, heartache for herself, and devastation for her unborn child swirled through her. She closed her eyes, preparing to devastate Brian’s father.

  Before she spoke, Kelly rested a hand on her belly and promised to give her little girl all the love she had. She thought she’d shed all her tears already, but she’d been wrong. As tears streamed down her face, all she thought of was that her fiancé was dead.

  KELLY WILLIAMS, INVESTIGATIVE journalist for Baltimore’s News First newspaper, parked her car, her nerves on edge about her visit to the North Branch Correctional Institution. Coming here alone was not only foolish but dangerous. With ominous clouds in varying shades of gray—from almost black to dirty white—hovering heavily in the sky, she stepped out of her vehicle, winter boots plopping onto the snowplowed parking lot with a crunch.

  She took a moment to inhale deeply, relishing in the fresh scent, although laced with a dampness promising more snowfall. The air didn’t have the cleanness of the Montana air she’d grown up with, but a calm still rested inside her, helping take the edge off. Jacket snapped in place, gloves and hat on, she grabbed her identification from her wallet and moved to hide her purse in the trunk.

  After using the remote to unlock the trunk, she shoved her keys in her pocket. Next, she deposited her purse, then slammed it shut before she had time to register why she had Brian’s suitcase still inside. It had been a month since his death.