by Marie Harte
Vi squeezed her eyes shut, surprised she could still cry after so much time. But the knowledge she really was alone in the world hurt, deep down. Like an ache that never went away. She rubbed the area of her heart, wishing she didn’t feel so alone.
Wishing she could be like so many normal people, falling in love, having a family, making a nice life working nine to five until she retired and traveled to see her grandchildren.
But Vi’s mind didn’t work like that. And she’d never met a man worth giving anything up for.
Not even Hammer.
Like a disease, the man’s image clung to her thoughts, the feel of him impressed upon her body. Just remembering that kiss made it all worse because she wanted him with a ferocity that made no sense. Perhaps she’d been on the edge of survival for so long that sex with Hammer seemed like the antidote to the realization her days were numbered.
A way to recreate the excitement she used to feel doing her job?
God, why the hell did she continue to allow him to live? It was only a matter of time before he tracked her down and ended her. She’d seen his files and knew exactly what he was capable of. He might act like a laughing giant with charm and a sense of humor, but he’d killed just as many as she had. From what she knew of Destroyer, he never left loose ends.
“I’m a loose end,” she said, needing to hear it. She needed to believe it, was the problem.
The water turned lukewarm, so she drained the tub and left it, bundled into a robe and wrapped a towel around her hair. She tucked her two favorite knives in a pocket and hid her pistol under a folded towel at the edge of the tub.
She’d also stashed weapons around the suite, should she need them for anything.
At the locked door of the bathroom, she paused, listening. It was automatic, living with caution.
To her relief, she heard nothing. She exited, took a good hard look at the suite, then made her way to the bedroom. Again, she did a sweep before relaxing. Nothing had been disturbed, not even her secret tells to indicate a foreign presence.
She toweled her hair to a damp mass and left it, then shrugged out of her robe, letting it pool on the floor on top of the towel. Leaving the mess felt good, like something a normal woman living alone might do. No one to impress, no sense in cleaning up if she didn’t want to. She thought about ordering room service then decided against it, needing sleep more than anything.
But as she turned to slide between the sheets, she lost her balance and slid into silken darkness, the hint of chocolate and mint making her smile.
HAMMER WAITED until the woman woke, content to look his fill. Fuck me sideways, there is no way we’re not getting horizonal together before this is over.
He’d thoroughly searched the suite, finding an arsenal hidden in just about every nook and cranny, places he would think to prepare a good defense. The small stockpile on the table in the living area made him smile. Vi had good taste in weapons, but she did seem to prefer knives.
Now tied up to the bed, naked and secured, she seemed vulnerable. For all of five seconds. He shook his head, noticing the muscle on her finer than fine body. She didn’t have much bodyfat, just the fullness in her breasts he wanted to savor. Jesus, but the woman could have been fucking her way to the top, no question. Some women—and men—who worked for the Business did their work on their backs, so good at seducing the truth out of people they’d turned information gathering into an art form.
Not Vi, though. He’d read up on her, and he knew she never let herself get that vulnerable. Not that he could blame her.
He stared down at the erection straining through his pants and sighed. A better man wouldn’t have looked, would have covered her up right away. But he’d never claimed to be a saint. Her nipples beaded though, and he didn’t want her to catch cold.
With her wrists and ankles still exposed, tied to bed posts with unbreakable ties, he felt it safe enough to cover the rest of her. Then he put some socks on her feet, because no one should suffer cold toes.
Before he backed away, he inhaled the sweet scent of her bath salts, combined with Vi’s natural scent, and committed her smell to memory. He slid a finger down her soft cheek, content to hear her sigh, and settled back to wait.
Vi needed rest. And from the sight of her, she needed to eat.
He nodded to himself, feeling the same hunger. For her or food, though food seemed the safer choice. Room service it would be.
WHEN VI WOKE, it was to the smell of something delicious. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and while she sought clarity, she remained still, not wanting to look awake.
Her memory was fuzzy. A run-in with her pursuers, then Hammer, her journey to this fine hotel, a bath, then nothing.
“Well, well, beauty finally wakes.”
Shit. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. Silk sheets told her she’d been bound naked, in bed. But she’d been covered up and wore…socks? The bastard had tied her to her bed, naked, and covered her feet so she wouldn’t be cold. She’d never in her life put socks on the bare feet of a target. What the hell?
Normally she’d feel unnerved, anxious at being so vulnerable with a man so close. With Hammer, rage became her world. She seethed with emotion, unable to understand how the blasted man could make her feel so out of control.
See? Should have killed him earlier. “Untie me,” she ordered through gritted teeth and opened her eyes.
He smirked down at her, standing next to the bed holding a plate of something. He wore jeans and a tee-shirt that showcased thick, muscular arms and those big hands. “Now, now, sugar plum. I think we have other things on the agenda.”
She snarled, “I will kill—”
“For a piece of this chicken?” he said as he took a bite. “I get you.” He speared a piece and shoved the fork at her lips. It was either open up or have the chicken smushed over her mouth.
She opened and tasted a lemon garlic chicken to die for. At that moment, her stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, you look hungry.” He looked her over, as if he could see through the bed cover, and she fought the urge to blush. “I mean, you’re sexy as hell. Love your body, truly. And those breasts, they’re full. Such pretty nipples.” He sighed. She wanted to brain him. “But you need to eat to maintain your strength.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He squatted down, his dark eyes gleaming with humor and, yes, satisfaction. “Not so much fun being drugged, is it, Nurse Ratched?”
“Will you quit calling me that? You’re such a—oomph.”
He shoved more chicken in her mouth, then propped some pillows under her head, making it easier for her to swallow by allowing her to partially sit up. “There. Can’t have you choking, can we? Unless I’m the one doing the strangling of course.”
Hammer pulled up a chair and sat next to her, alternating between taking a bite then feeding her the next. They cleared the plate before he brought over another filled with steamed and buttered vegetables.
To her surprise, he didn’t ask her any questions. He fed her, shared his water with her, and made sure she ate everything on the tray that sat near the bed.
“What’s under there?” she asked, nodding at the last plate covered by a steel dome.
“Dessert.” He smiled, but she caught the mean edge of his expression all the same. “That’s your reward for telling me what I want to know.”
“And if I don’t?” Better to get the details out ahead of time.
“Oh, I’m hoping you don’t.” He kept smiling.
This time she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Fear. The look he gave her didn’t seem to belong to the Hammer she knew.
“Rape and torture won’t get you what you want.” She spoke in quiet, concise words, to let him know she meant it. She’d been tortured before, been so close to rape that she still had occasional flashbacks. Back then she’d been young and weak, and Angel had saved her before her attacker had brutalized her. But she’d never forgotten that dry-mout
hed fear. It fed her fury, giving her the courage to face Hammer now.
“Sure they will.” He shrugged. “But I’m not a rapist, and I’ve never tortured to get information. Usually the threat of it does the job. Besides, I’m a cleanup man. Not one they send for intel. That’s more Shadow’s line of work.”
Why his explanation relieved her, she had no idea. He could be lying. But she didn’t think so.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” She really didn’t.
“Go head.”
“Oh, so humiliation turns you on?”
He sighed. “Vi, we both know you’re stalling for some reason. I’ve cleaned the suite. From top to bottom. All your pretty weapons are the on the table in there.” He nodded to the living room. “I hold all the cards. I could have done bad, bad things to you while you were passed out. But I didn’t.”
Hammer wouldn’t. Somehow, she’d forgotten what she knew of his character. But if he wanted to keep acting like he could hurt her, she’d let him. Her fear lessened even more.
“I’d like to think we’re on the same team. I want to know who dropped that baby on Noel’s doorstep. I want to know why they think Noel, Deacon, or I could be the father. We all know we aren’t. The DNA tests proved it.”
“I know.”
“What I don’t know is why you drugged me.” His smile disappeared, and she was treated to a look at Intimidating-Hammer. No wonder people told him what he wanted to know. The guy radiated menace. “Why you threw in your lot with Romero Burleigh and nearly got Deacon killed.”
“That was…” What should she tell him? How much?
“Explain.”
“Damn it. Untie me.”
“No.” He stood, his arms crossed over that broad chest, and waited.
She debated whether to tell him anything, not wanting to lose control of her investigation.
And then he tugged the covers off her, leaving her naked and exposed.
“Oh yeah. This is going to be fun.” He smiled down at her, real joy mixing with a cruelty that had no business turning her on. “While you were out, I gave you a little something. It makes you…responsive.” He ran a finger over her shoulder, and her entire body seemed to light up.
“You bastard.”
He chuckled and looked down at himself. “Yep. I’m right there with you, lovely Vi. So, if you’d rather fuck than talk, I’m game. And sweetheart, it won’t be rape.”
“Bullshit. You drugged me!”
“And I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” He sat next to her in the chair and spread his legs wide, showcasing one hell of an erection. “Now, let’s play twenty questions and see if you can resist all this.” He motioned to his big, sexy body.
She glared at him, lingering desire like a tightness all over. She thought it might be less from the drug and more from how incredibly turned on she was at being so powerless. She’d toyed with power dynamics before, and though she liked being less dominant, she’d never trusted any partner to truly take charge.
With Hammer, she had a feeling she wouldn’t get a choice.
“Yep. Those nipples are hard. And so pretty.” He licked his lips.
She wanted that mouth on her breasts. Between her legs.
“You’re a prick, you know that?”
“Yep. Now, about Burleigh…” He reached out to touch her shoulder.
“Fine.” She worried that if he kept touching her, she really would beg him for more. “It’s not like it’s a big secret.” She shot daggers with her gaze. “Anyone with half a brain would have figured it out by now.”
“Enlighten me, Nurse Feel-Good.” He rubbed his crotch. “Because seeing you so clean and pretty like that is making me fucking hard. And I’m not high on Spanish Fly.”
“Spanish Fly? Really?” She hoped he heard the derision in her tone. The aphrodisiac didn’t actually do what people thought it did. In was more dangerous than sexually stimulating. Yet she couldn’t explain why her pulse rate kept going up, or why she had a difficult time looking away from Hammer’s mouth, his crotch, his powerful hands.
“Well, that’s what they’re calling the concoction I gave you,” he explained. “It’s really a cocktail of drugs designed to increase blood flow and stimulate oxytocin and prolactin. Oh, and your genital sensory cortex, thalamus, hypothalamus, and a few other regions in your brain are already lighting up.” He grinned. “How’s that for science?”
“I hate you.” Crap. He really had given her something, because she was feeling it a lot right now.
“Yep. I’m not riding what I gave you, and I’m hot for you. I can only imagine how hot you’re gonna get for me. I can’t wait for you to beg me to take you.” He shrugged and put his hands on his thighs. “But, wait. I just remembered. I’m a gentleman. I can’t take advantage of a lady.” His tone made it clear he didn’t consider her a lady at all. “You’ll end up suffering, horny as hell, and embarrassed as a motherfucker when we’re done. Or you can just tell me what anyone with half a brain already knows and save your pride. It’s your call.”
A woman of her experience and professionalism shouldn’t care. Normally she’d tell the enemy to go to hell while trying to find a way to escape. But Hammer was different. She didn’t want him seeing her this way unless he planned to join her. That, right there, told her she needed to get some distance. She hadn’t been thinking rationally about anything since meeting him. Something about the man interrupted her ability to be calm and collected.
Had that also happened to Angel? Caused her sister to lose everything for a man and a baby? A man who just might have killed her in the end?
THREE
Dear God, if the woman didn’t say something soon, Hammer would need to go jerk off in the bathroom so he could think clearly again. Drugged her? Hell, he hadn’t drugged her with anything more than a good nap and decent food. That she believed his nonsense made everything worse, because now he knew Vi did desire him. The need she felt for Hammer’s body came from a place of pure attraction.
She had a point about him having a half a brain, though.
A smart man would have stopped all the bullshit and gone straight to questions and answers. Tying her up, naked, hadn’t been smart. Pretending to have drugged her? Just stupid. Keeping her naked so he could lose his ever-loving mind? He doubted he’d have more than two brain cells left when this ended.
“It’s not a secret Romero Burleigh hated you three.”
She was talking. Good. Now if he could just keep his gaze off her breasts and belly. Off that beautiful pussy he wanted to eat for dessert…
“We know,” Hammer said, distracted. He forced himself to look into her face, seeing the smug look there. “Hey, I told you I wanted to fuck. I’m not hiding it.”
“Hammer.”
Oh man. She was blushing. He needed to cover her up. But then she’d realize she’d gotten under his skin. This was killing him.
He cleared his throat and refused to look below her chin. “Right. Romero Burleigh, ex-contractor. British ex-pat living in Jaipur, India after raping several women during the course of his work for the Business. Until we found out and terminated his employment. I was all for terminating his existence but was voted down.”
“Good to know we have some standards,” she muttered and shot him a look. “Well, some of us do.”
He ignored that. “So, Burleigh is cut off and living in India. Then he disappears. Only to reappear three months ago in Solene Hansen’s living room. You remember Solene? She’s my friend, the love of Deacon’s life. The person you called a friend.” He watched her for a reaction and found none. “But hey, let’s talk about how you got Solene to go home, putting her in danger from Burleigh. You know, how you lied to get her out from under our protection? Right before you drugged and tied me up.” He smiled wide as he looked her over. “Kind of like we’ve come full circle, huh?”
She stared at him. He could see the wheels turning in her brain, the woman smart like a whip. She frowned. “You let me ge
t the best of you in the warehouse, didn’t you?”
He gave a modest nod. “I did. I know your M.O. So, while you were busy stabbing me, once again, with a needle, I was planting a tracker on you. Can’t complain about the kiss though. You’re a hot one.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that you begging already?”
She closed her eyes and mumbled something. Then she opened them. “Look, you jerk, I did what I had to. I needed answers.”
His smile faded. “So. Do. I.”
She looked at his face and sighed. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”
He didn’t comment, though he really wanted to. Because he had dreams about being a literal pain, taking her there. Her ass, her mouth, her pussy. He didn’t plan on being picky. They could start wherever she liked.
“Look,” she said, “I was working Burleigh. I pretended to be on the payroll. But I could never figure out his boss. The real money man. Burleigh worked as his accountant, as an employee, not partner. The same as all the other killers on board. But none of them had met the big man. The hope was if I proved trustworthy to Burleigh, he’d eventually lead me to the man behind all this.”
He homed in, having gotten the same information from some men they’d interrogated after Burleigh’s death. “One man? Not a group targeting us?”
“No. It’s one man. One man who killed Angel.” She looked into his eyes. “You do know she’s Little Dee’s mother, right?”
He sighed and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I thought so. I mean, we all did, but that locket she left with him told me it’s Angel.” He felt something inside him break. “She’s dead? For sure?”
“Yes.”
He watched her, seeing a hint of sadness that told him Vi knew a hell of a lot more about Angel than he’d suspected. “Why didn’t you come to us and ask for help?”
“Why would I? I had no way of knowing whose side you were on. All I knew was that you, Noel, and Deacon weren’t the baby’s dad, but that Angel left him with Noel for some reason.”
“And you think Little Dee’s dad killed Angel. That he’s the one after us.”