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CHAPTER ONE

Brixton Fox Slater was born to the coolest, diverse parents and grandparents ever. Or at least he thought so. His father was a twin. His uncle, Wade Slater also cool and badass. It was like having a second father, only he spoiled the crap out of you. To a young boy, or even a teenager, having all that sweltering badass around you was pretty cool.

His grandparents were Gabrielle, or Gabi Slater and Quincy ‘Zulu' Slater. You could spot them anywhere. First, because they were always together, always holding hands, always needing to be near one another. Second, because their appearances were so unique, they couldn't have hidden from the crowd even if they wanted to.

His grandmother was a skilled, ingenious surgeon who had developed a number of groundbreaking techniques that other surgeons often craved to learn. She was a part of the Belle Fleur medical team. A woman who was unique in every way, with silvery blonde hair and translucent blue-gray-green eyes that seemed to change colors with her mood.

His grandfather was an enormous man and former Navy SEAL. The combination of his caramel skin and her unique features made for beautiful sons in Wade and Tyler, better known as Tiger.

His father and uncle decided to become Navy SEALs like their father. His mother, having battled her way through an abusive household and then the foster care system, became a Marine.

Hazel's terrible past caught up with her when her grandmother tried blackmailing her. Fortunately, Tiger and the team were there to help after she'd nearly made a colossal mistake leaving the team.

As Belle Fleur luck would have it, she was there to save him when he needed saving the most. They fell in love, and their unique features made for a stunning son.

Brix's softly tanned skin, striking blue eyes with the same swirls of his grandmother, thick black lashes, and six-feet-six and two hundred and twenty pounds of lean muscle was positively mouthwatering.

When you are born into and grow up around men and women like those at Belle Fleur, it often feels as if your future is planned out for you. But it's not.

"Brix? Any idea what you'll want to study in college?" asked Hazel.

"Mom, I'm not going to college right away. I'm going to join the military," he smiled. He was sixteen and almost as big as his father. His father gave him a knowing smile. They'd spoken of it often, but he knew they would continue to stress education for him.

"Okay," she nodded. "That's cool, but I want you to get your college degree as well. It's important."

"I know," he smiled. "I promise."

"Just curious, though, which branch are you thinking about? I mean, the Marines are great. But I'm sure your father would say the SEALs are better."

Brix could only laugh, not giving his mother an answer.

When his father and mother married, she had piercings up and down her ears, in her lip, her nose, and apparently in other places a kid didn't need to know about. Now, she wore four earrings in each ear but had removed all the other piercings, letting the holes close.

"Is there anyone special that you're taking to prom?" his mother asked.

"Mom, I love you, but I'm not going to prom. Walker and Mags are going together, Leif and Ellie are going together. I just don't think prom is for me."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm cool with that. Just don't miss out on all the fun stuff, Brix. High school will be over before you know it, and you'll be moving on to bigger and better things. But there's something to be said for enjoying this time."

Brix didn't tell his mother or father, but he rarely missed out on the ‘fun' stuff. His good looks, body, and well-endowed manhood made him highly desirable. In fact, most would consider him a man-whore. He was always careful, using double protection, and the girls were definitely more experienced than he was.

When he graduated from high school, he joined the military with all of his closest friends. They all decided to become Rangers and were assigned to the same team. Leif, Major, Walker, Alistair, Sebastian, and Garr. For Brix, it was a dream come true.

Originally, they'd decided to share apartments to save money, but in the end, it was just too many guys up each other's asses. Someone always smelled bad, someone always wanted to bring a girl home, and someone was always either a neat freak or a slob.

He was thrilled to have his own place. He would pick up women in bars, bring them to their places, fuck them blind and leave them. Night after night until the scare.

"I think I'm pregnant, Brix," said the waitress, leaning over the bar toward him. He knew it couldn't possibly be his.

"What? No. It's not mine, Michelle. I was wearing a condom. In fact, it was double condoms."

"Condoms break," she said through her teeth. "I'm eight days late for my period, and I'm never late. I've only been with you."

"It's not mine," he repeated, starting to feel sick to his stomach.

"Listen, asshole. I want nothing from you. I just thought you would like to know. I'm not happy about this either. I don't want kids. I never wanted kids. I just wanted to fuck the stud with the donkey-sized cock." Brix stared at her for a moment, feeling as though she'd slapped his face.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"You heard me. All the girls talk about it. This town isn't that big, Brix. And you have an unusual name. Check out the women's bathroom. Your name and number are everywhere, along with a relatively decent picture of your dick."

Brix stood from his stool and walked toward the restrooms. He charged into the ladies' room as his friends watched, two women screaming as they ran out. Sure enough, he was the major feature on the ladies' room walls.

For a good time call Ranger Brix – hot cock – 555-632-8887

Look for this guy – great dick!

Brix – hot bi-racial dude – big dick

Asshole – but good in bed – you'll thank me later

"Brix, what the fuck are you doing?" asked Leif, staring over his shoulder. "Oh, shit. Brix, get out, dude. We'll get the owner to paint the walls."

"This is how women feel," he said quietly. "This is how women feel when we talk about them. We've all done it. We can't deny it. We've said worse about women before and shared some pretty disgusting shit."

"Brix…" He turned quickly and went back out to the bar.

"Michelle? What do you need from me?" he asked.

"I don't need shit. I told you. I don't want a baby, Brix, and I damn sure don't want some bi-racial kid. I just wanted your dick for one night."

It was another slap in the face that nearly made Brix blackout. He visited the bar every night for four nights straight, only to hear that Michelle had gotten her period. It was a false alarm. He was almost disappointed, but what was more disappointing was realizing that he'd wasted his life fucking strangers when the real one had probably just walked by him.

His last official mission as a U.S. Army Ranger was with his team, helping to save two of their own in Egypt. Ellie and Mags. They were both home now, safe with Leif and Walker. During their rescue and through all of the chaos, Major met Elena, who was now expecting their first child, and Brix met the incomparable Daphne Bishop.

Beautiful and smart, she'd risked her life to help them and was now recovering at Belle Fleur.

"She's beautiful, Brix," smirked Tiger, looking down at the sleeping beauty in the bed.

"I know, Dad, but she's also hurting. It's not just that. She was hurt by someone else as well. Her first husband. But I don't know the whole story." Tiger nodded.

"Find out."

"Gee, I wish I'd thought of that," he frowned. His father chuckled, and Brix just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm trying. Her folks are blowing up her phone, trying to get her to go home. At first, I thought she wouldn't want anything to do with me because of my mixed-race background, but she was adopted by West African parents. I doubt it matters to her."

"I doubt it as well," smiled Tiger. "She doesn't strike me as that kind of woman. Look, Brix, I don't have all the answers. Hell, I let your mother walk by me for two years before I knew she was the one."

"You are kind of slow," smiled his son.

"Smart ass. My point is you have to talk to her, get to know her. Let her know that you want her to stay. She might already be wishing you had. With Elena here, she's got a childhood friend, and, of course, we have Mattie from upper-crust England. All of that might help her to feel more at home."

"I don't think it's that, Dad. I think she's hiding something from me. Not something dangerous. At least I'm not getting that sense. It's more like a secret."

"Then tell her all your secrets, Brix. If you want to make a life with this woman, find a way. I think you'd be surprised at the way she feels and wants to make a life with you as well."

"How did you know that Mom was the one?"

"Like I said, for two years, I didn't. I was looking at her like a teammate, a friend. Then suddenly, when I was in danger, and she was saving my ass, not the other way around, I really saw her. I saw the blue eyes, the amazing body…"

"Uh, Dad, can we skip that?"

"No," he laughed. "Your mother takes care of herself, Brix. Running, working out, all of it makes me see her as the woman she is. I love that about her. What I loved more was that she thought she was protecting all of us from her past. Maybe that's what Daphne is doing. Maybe she believes she's protecting you or us."

Brix nodded at his father, standing to walk back to his cottage. He hugged his father, slapping his back. As he walked away, his mother was walking toward him. He kissed her cheek and kept moving.

"Is he going to find a way to keep that woman?" she smirked.

"He's working on it, babe. He's working on it."

CHAPTER TWO

Daphne Patricia Bishop didn't really understand what was happening in the courtroom. She was only five, and her sister, Cassandra, was four. They held hands tightly, hoping that someone would tell them why they were there. She had fleeting memories before this, but they seemed jumbled together, cloudy and strange.

"Daphne, Cassandra, would you step forward, please?" asked the man in the black dress.

"Yes, sir." Their voices echoed in the room.

"Dears, Lord and Lady Bishop would like to adopt you both and raise you in their very fine estate in the country. Would you like that?"

"Does this mean our parents aren't coming back for us?" asked Daphne.

"No, my darling. They can't come back," said the man with a sad face.

Daphne kind of knew that. They'd been told that their parents died in a boating accident. Daphne didn't know what that meant, but she knew the word ‘died.' They weren't coming home.

"Will Lord and Lady Bishop be kind to us?" asked Cassandra.

"Yes, my darling girl. They will be exceptionally kind to you. Lord Bishop is a very prosperous man. You'll have a fine home, fine clothing, and go to the best schools. You'll have every advantage."

"Alright," said Daphne.

She didn't know what would happen if she had said ‘no thank you,' but she knew that this would be better than staying in the girls' side of the orphans' home. Lord and Lady Bishop were black. That didn't bother Daphne or Cassandra. Their parents taught them to respect all people, no matter their color, country, religion, or politics.

Neither girl really knew what that meant, but they knew they were to be kind to everyone.

It was a day that changed their lives forever. Exactly what they'd been told came true. They were given luxury living conditions, clothing that every little girl dreams of, the best schools, and so much more.

Lord and Lady Bishop were unable to have children of their own and had prayed for the opportunity to adopt children. This was their opportunity.

The family vacationed in the south of France, shopped at Harrods, and visited the shops on King's Road and Bond Street. The girls were even told that although they would get college educations, they didn't have to work. They would have enormous trust funds, they would live in homes just like their own, and they would marry one of England's most eligible men.

Their only objective was to provide heirs for their parents.

When Cassandra started to frequently get sick, then became critically ill at just sixteen, they all thought it could easily be cured with antibiotics or other treatments. It was just not to be. A disease that couldn't be named, an unknown virus, was attacking her body. It came in swiftly and, just as swiftly, took her life.

Her father was in London more and more on business, her mother called him every day to give updates on Cassandra's condition. In the end, it didn't matter. She was gone.

It was devastating for their family and changed Daphne's life forever. Not just because she lost her sister, but because now she was the sole hope for continuing on the Bishop family name.

Her parents, especially her mother, never let her forget it.

"I was able to see some spectacular pieces at the auction house today," she smiled, taking a bite of the lamb at dinner. "Mrs. Ferguson has offered me a full-time position when I finish my exams at university."

"You won't need that, Daphne," smiled her mother.

"Yes, I will," she said, looking at her parents. "I plan to have a career and live somewhere in London. I'll come home every weekend, I promise. But I want a life of my own, a career of my own. I don't just want to be a trophy wife for some man I barely know."

"Daphne, you know what is required of you," said her father. "We've never asked anything of you except this. What will happen to all of this if you don't provide an heir for us?"

Daphne didn't know why his statement gutted her, but it did. She knew the expectation, and she didn't want to disappoint them, but she also wanted a life of her own. It was only three weeks later that her parents threw a party on the pretense of celebrating her graduation from university.

It was all a lie.

Men, young and old, were paraded by her with formal introductions. It wasn't until the tenth or eleventh one that she knew.

"You're introducing me to potential husbands," she whispered to her mother.

"Of course, darling. We've told you. We'll need an heir."

"Mother, I am not going to marry right now. I refuse," she said, staring at her parents. "You can't make me do this. Don't make me do this."

"Daphne, you can continue to have a career while you're married if you and your husband agree."

"Mother, this isn't the Elizabethan era. Women don't need their husband's approval to have a career. I will not marry."

Yet somehow, her parents were able to manipulate her, coax her, force her to do just that. To a man thirty years her senior. She'd been told over and over again that he was a good man. Successful. Respected. Except Daphne had seen him in private.

His behavior was appalling. Boorish. He would suck his teeth after meals, pick his nose at the table and wipe it on the linen napkins. He was rude to the staff, rude to waiters and waitresses at restaurants.

This was not a man she wanted to spend her life with. Yet she agreed. She cursed herself every day for agreeing to that. She knew better. Yet she did it anyway.

It started when she refused to kiss him on the lips at the wedding. She'd turned her cheek shyly, giving him the corner of her mouth. When they danced, he held her so tightly she thought she'd never be able to breathe again. He ground his pathetic groin into her body, and she nearly vomited on him.

When his anger boiled over into their wedding night, accusing her of being childish and a whore for dancing at her wedding with an old schoolmate, he proceeded to beat her, rape her, and beat her again. Leaving her to ‘think' about her actions, he went to London to spend a few days alone in his apartment.

Daphne had no one to call other than her parents. At first, she thought to dial her mother's number, but something inside of her said don't. Instead, she called her father, who was so appalled by the situation he immediately went to his daughter's side.

When they arrived, they were horrified at the nightmare they'd created for their daughter. Swift with action, they got her medical care, called their attorneys, had the marriage annulled, and never asked their daughter about the incident again.

For Daphne, it wasn't that simple. Although they didn't want to speak of it, it did happen, and she had to deal with the outcome and emotions she carried from it on a daily basis.

She moved out of the estate to an apartment in London, living the life she'd always wanted. But her ex-husband, Sir Marshall Campbell always seemed to find her. By law, he couldn't come near her, couldn't speak to her. But he was letting her know that he could find her.

When her best friend in the whole world called her for help, she immediately jumped into action. Elena Fayek was a brilliant archaeologist and dear school friend. Staying with Daphne for a few weeks, she quickly found herself in a lot of trouble.

But Elena had a hero. A big, handsome, wonderful hero. Major Carson. And her big, handsome, wonderful hero had a friend.

Brixton Slater.

Sent to pick up Elena's things from Daphne's apartment, they were able to get to know one another, chatting casually. For Daphne, it was as if she'd known him forever. She wanted to tell him everything about her life, but there just didn't seem to be enough time.

When he left for America, she assumed they might see one another again soon. Her parents had taken up the task of getting an heir once again, and Daphne was ready to bolt.

But before she could leave, she had to help Elena and the others. Their lives were at risk, and so was something very important at the auction house. Something no one seemed to be able to identify.

She helped the team with Elena's father, the true criminal, and she found herself, once again, beaten and broken. Only this time, there was someone there to save her. Someone who didn't want her to produce an heir to an estate. Someone who put her safety above all else.

"I've got you, angel. I've got you," whispered Brix. "We're going home."

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