Rush, Phoenix Rising #3 by Joan Swan

Jessica Fury, Washington lobbyist, has money, connections, and her own firm. But five years ago she had something better: happiness. Her firefighter husband, Quaid, was handsome, courageous, and crazy about her. Then one day he walked into a chemical inferno—and never walked out. Jessica has been through hell to get back on her feet. And then a rumor surfaces that could bring a miracle or shatter her world – again.

Q has been a prisoner forever. He’s honed his mind and body into weapons. He’s developed abilities no one else understands. But he’s still at the mercy of a cabal of ruthless men, who blank his memory, test him like a lab rat, and tell him lies. Although his past has been erased and his future looks grim, instinct tells him he has a woman to live for. What his mind can’t remember, his body can’t forget…

The heat is on.

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READ OUR REVIEW OF RUSH HERE!

Check out our reviews of Fever and Blaze below!

Fever (Phoenix Rising #1) Buy it on Amazon here!	Blaze (Phoenix Rising #2) Buy it on Amazon here!

Read an excerpt

“Jessie?”

A hole pricked the bubble of her serenity. Her peaceful inner world pulled away from the walls of her mind like ripping wallpaper.

She opened her eyes, her chest burning with the sting of fear, and twisted toward the voice. Quaid stood ten feet away, hands on hips, still bare chested, jeans still unbuttoned, breathing hard as if he’d been running.

Had he just called her . . . Jessie?

“What’s wrong?” She darted a glance behind him while scrambling off the boulder. When she realized no other frantic members of the team waited, a burst of hope exploded, searing her lungs until her breath caught. Jessie. Could he have remembered?

She turned her gaze back to Quaid, searching his face for a clue. Please, please, please. “Are you . . . okay?”

He dropped his head. “I’m . . .” He raked his fingers over his scalp. “I’m confused. I’m really confused.”

The torment in his voice pulled her a step closer, but also kept her out of his reach. She was confused, too, not sure whether to go to him or keep her distance and give him room to work things through first.

Clasping her hands, she squeezed them tight, wringing out the tension and took another step closer. “What . . . can I do for you?”

He laughed, the sound dry and bitter. “Why would you want to do anything for me?” He shook his head, “I don’t know how to apologize. And I can’t even say I didn’t mean to hurt you or that I wouldn’t have, because . . .” He lifted his hand, then let it fall, the gesture and his lost expression so helpless. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would or wouldn’t have done.”

He didn’t have to say the words for Jessica to know he regretted what had happened. Cash had explained enough about his time at the Castle for Jessica to understand his response had been an instinctive reaction to fear. She’d seen it on his face the moment he’d let her go.

He turned his back to her as Jessica opened her mouth to tell him not to go, took another step toward him, but stopped. She had to let him walk away if that’s what he needed. Give him room to adjust at his own pace. But he didn’t go, he just stared out across the ravine in silence and Jessica studied the beauty of his phoenix.

Covering the right two-thirds of his back, the fierce bird’s tail tapered at his waist. One wing crested over Quaid’s shoulder and decorated the back of his right arm. The other stretched across the opposite third of his bare back.

His body was so different from before. Her gaze slid over the curves of muscle and sinew. The bulk she’d known was gone. In its place sleek, tapered muscle contoured beneath tight, tan skin. He was truly sculpted, and her hands were restless to touch and explore this new man even while a big part of her heart and mind feared him.

“Your mark,” she said, “is . . . the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

A deep sigh lifted and lowered his shoulders. “Jessica . . .”

She waited, smiling at the sound of her name in his voice, something she never believed she’d hear again. But when he didn’t go on, she said, “Yes?”

“What am I to you?”

Her smile dropped. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth while her mind and heart bellowed I’m the person who loves you most in the entire world. I’m the woman you chose over all others. I’m your wife.

“You don’t remember anything . . . yet?”

“Not in my head.” He turned and faced her and she almost wished he hadn’t. His expression was so tortured he seemed almost . . . angry. “But I have all these emotions, all these feelings I don’t understand. I have no memories, no basis for them.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

In two steps, he stood in front of her. His scent surrounded her, soap and heat and Quaid. He took her chin in his hand. A thrill teased her heart in anticipation of his tilting her face up and kissing her. But he turned her head to the side, and swept her hair off her neck with the other hand.

She pulled in a breath of shock and fear, and tried to push his hand away, but he was too strong. “Quaid . . .”

He took her face in both hands, this time tilting it up until she looked directly into his eyes. She grabbed one of his wrists, but he wasn’t hurting her, so she didn’t pull it away. And, God help her, she just wanted his mouth back on hers.

“Why is this tattoo on your neck?”

Her gut tensed. She raised her gaze from his lips to his eyes. Those deep brown, demanding eyes. And hated the way she immediately wanted to lie. “It’s a Chinese sym—”

His hands tightened on her face. This time the pressure did sting and she teetered on that line between anger and patience.

“It’s the name you’re all calling me. Quaid—my name—in a Chinese symbol.”

She opened her mouth to ask how he knew. No one knew. She’d gotten the ink after his death and never told anyone, not even Keira, what it meant. But his gaze dropped to her lips and the words died in her throat.

“Were you mine?” he asked, his voice softer, his gaze slowly rising from her mouth with a look so heated, so hungry, her control nearly slipped right through her fingers. “Were you mine, Jessie?”

She swallowed. “Y-yes.”

His gaze held hers a long moment, filled with shock. She held her breath, fearing and anticipating his reaction at the same time. Shock shifted to confusion. Confusion into disbelief. He let go, dropped his arms and stepped back.

About the author

Joan Swan writes sexy romantic suspense for Kensington (Phoenix Rising Series) and independently (Covert Affairs Series).  She also works as a sonographer at a top medical facility in San Francisco and lives in magnificent wine country on the central coast of California with her husband and two daughters.

Connect with Joan at her Website | Facebook | Twitter

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