Deadly Encounter (Deadly Love Book 3)

Contents Prologue 1. Cara 2. Hale 3. Cara 4. Hale 5. Cara 6. Cara 7. Hale 8. Cara 9. Hale 10. Cara 11. Cara 12. Hale 13. Cara 14. Cara 15. Hale 16. Cara 17. Hale 18. Cara 19. Cara 20. Hale 21. Cara 22. Hale 23. Cara 24. Hale 25. Cara 26. Cara 27. Hale 28. Cara 29. Hale 30. Cara Epilogue Bonus Epilogue The End Untitled Love always finds a way About the Authors About K.A. Knight About Ivy Fox Also by K.A. Knight Also by Ivy Fox For Ivy, thank you for being the Cara to my Zoey. For Katie, thank you for being the Hale to my Gray. Prologue HALE I hate parties. Okay, I love parties, but not ones like this. The richest people in the city fill the ballroom, and I can’t hide my grimace, so I turn away and fade into the shadows, watching and gaining intel as I try to find him. The General. Gray is desperate to locate him, and I agreed to help. A whisper on the street led me here, and despite the fact that I’m rocking my usual Armani and a matching half mask like every other male here, I couldn’t feel more out of place. I’d rather be at home with my computers to track my prey, but sometimes I have to get my hands dirty, and since Gray is one of my only friends, here I am. I wait for any signs or whispers of him, sucking up to the rich and watching the women flirt, drink, and talk incessantly about nothing important. It’s a boring, mundane evening. I’m tracking my prey, the rich, when I see her. She strolls into the ballroom, bringing a breath of fresh air with her heart-stopping beauty. Her chin is tilted up in defiance, and her baby-blue eyes are hard as she glares at those around her as if she hates being here. I can’t stop staring. I should look away and get back to work, but every part of my being is consumed by the beautiful princess striding through the ballroom like she owns it. I don’t blame the desirous gazes that follow her, because I’m one of them. Greed, need, and possessiveness flares through me for this stranger. My eyes drop to her body, and I’m unable to suppress a groan. She’s wearing a black silk dress that trails behind her, flashing long, toned legs—perfect. Her red heels gleam under the clinging back silk sheath, making her taller, but she has to be easily six feet tall, and for a tall bastard like me, it sends a shot of lust through my system. The dress itself glitters under the light, clinging to a tucked in waist and draping over her impressive chest, which is pushed up and almost tumbling from her neckline. I have the insane urge to bite her there so I can leave my mark for all to see. She turns like she senses my gaze, a waterfall of black silky hair tumbling over her shoulder as I move closer. When I see her face, everything else is forgotten. Those baby-blue eyes are lined to make them brighter, and her long lashes guard them, shuttering her true feelings from everyone. Her cheekbones are high and glitter with makeup, and her plump lips are painted an enticing red, giving me a glimpse of what she would look like as she bleeds for me. She’s beautiful, so beautiful she actually steals my breath. She looks like a supermodel or a goddess, all light, brightness, and beauty. She is all supple, tan skin and long, unmarred limbs. And I want to ruin it, mark it, and brand it. I want to see her eyes water with tears as I make her scream and then see her on those royal knees for me as I destroy her and fill those baby blues with agony. She turns away, stealing her from my view, and a growl erupts from my chest. Despite the designer suit I wear, there is nothing civilized about me. Not when it comes to her. I track my new prey’s every move as she’s forced to greet and play nice with the rich bastards, but her shoulders are tense, and I see the yearning in her eyes that she tries to hide—she wants to be anywhere else. It calls to me as I linger in the darkness, stalking her. When she sweeps from the room and out into the courtyard I scouted earlier, I am helpless not to follow. Leaving the shadows for her, I close the doors behind me, trapping her outside with me. She either doesn’t hear it or doesn’t care, and fury pounds through me so hard it makes my temples ache. Who is this goddess to be left unprotected? She should be locked away and guarded so that no bastard like me can take what isn’t his. But it won’t stop me now, nor would a million bodyguards. Her back is to me, and her slender, perfectly manicured hands grip the wooden rope of the swing she is swaying on idly. The moon shines down on her, lighting her up like the goddess she is while I linger in the darkness like the devil I am. I stare, imagining what she would taste like. What her pain would feel like. She stiffens, finally sensing me. “Who’s there?” she calls, standing stiffly as she looks around. I press my back to the stone wall and wait, leading her into my trap. She frowns, her black, perfectly plucked eyebrows tugging down as she wanders around the small courtyard, bringing her close to my hiding spot with every step, and then she’s before me. She squints into the darkness before her eyes widen and she gasps when she finally sees me. I smirk as I grab her, pressing her to the stone wall. My black suit and hair help hide us from prying eyes as I pin