Say I Do

by Cynthia Eden

  “Did you shoot at Lacey?” Dex’s question rang out, hard and stark.

  Roman stilled. Then whirled to face him. “What?”

  “You said you didn’t shoot at me. Fine. I buy that, especially since I’m not so sure I was the target.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Lacey shook her head. Why would anyone in the ballroom be shooting at her? She’d done nothing wrong! She hadn’t even known most of the people in there!

  Roman’s gaze lingered on her. “I did not shoot at Lacey.”

  “Did anyone on your team fire the shot?” Dex gritted out.

  “I will fucking find out,” Roman vowed.

  Then he was leaving. Rushing away in a storm of fury. She didn’t move, not until she was absolutely sure he was out of sight and then—“What in the hell, Dex? Why would someone want to kill me?”

  His lips thinned.

  “This is insane. You have me operating in the dark. You’re making me work blind even when I am saving your ass.” He was also dead wrong. Because no, surely nobody had wanted to kill her. This scene must be about him. Huffing out a breath, she hitched up the cascading bottom of her dress to reveal the sheath strapped to her thigh. “I swear,” Lacey fumed as she shoved the knife into the sheath, “you are driving me to—”

  He caught her chin. Tipped her head up. Kissed her.

  Not some hard, heavy, desperate kiss.

  But…

  Softer. Careful. Like she was something very, very precious and he was afraid she’d break on him.

  She wasn’t the type of woman to break. He should know that. He seemed to know everything else about her.

  But as the kiss lingered, she realized there was more at play. He was kissing her with such tender care. Maybe it wasn’t as if he thought she’d break…

  More like…

  I’m something he can’t lose?

  And how in the hell was she even getting that from a kiss? What was the man doing to her head? Was he making her as crazy as he was? She let go of the gown and pushed against his chest. “Stop.”

  Immediately, he tensed.

  “Not here,” she added. “Let’s get back to our suite. We need to talk, now, and I want to be sure someone isn’t lurking around a corner and trying to whisper in my ear.”

  “Is that what the bastard was doing?” His eyes glittered. “Whispering about me?”

  “Not here,” she repeated. She moved away from him and her dress fluttered around her. She was far, far too conscious of the weight of her weapon against her leg. “Come on.”

  “Where you go, I follow.”

  Lacey slanted a glance over her shoulder at him. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to be mocked?”

  His expression was unguarded. Intense. Focused solely on her. “And does it look like I’m mocking?” he asked quietly. “Where you go, I will follow. I’m starting to wonder if that is going to be the story of my fucking life.”

  ***

  Someone had been shooting at Lacey Amari? That was truly what Dex believed?

  Roman marched back into his suite—he and Heather had taken the honeymoon suite because it worked as a great cover. He’d heard the blast of the shot in the ballroom, but knowing how Dex attracted enemies in swarms, he’d just figured someone had targeted the SOB.

  But if the shot had been intended for Lacey…

  Everything changes.

  “Heather!” Roman called for his bodyguard and the woman he’d trusted implicitly with the secrets of his life. “Heather, we have a situation we have to handle!”

  The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar. He’d given her the bedroom, and he’d planned to crash on the couch. At his call, she didn’t reply.

  After the mess in the ballroom, he knew she’d gone to canvas the area, but they intended to meet up in the suite.

  He headed for the bedroom door. Rapped lightly with his knuckles. “Heather? Listen, there is something I have to tell you about—”

  The door inched open beneath his knuckles.

  The room was empty. No Heather.

  Roman heard a rustle of sound behind him. He turned—

  Too late.

  Something hit him in the side of the head. A blow hard enough to send him stumbling into the door. Then another blow followed. A third.

  If any hits came after that, he didn’t know. Roman was out cold.

  Chapter Seven

  His plan was shit. He’d made a major tactical error, and Dex didn’t like to make errors. He followed Lacey into their suite and shut the door. He took a moment to flip the locks into place, and then he pressed his back to the wood of the door as he studied her.

  “You have way too many secrets, Dexter Ryan.” She lifted the heavy fall of hair off her neck, revealing the delicate column of her throat. He wanted to cross the room and put his mouth to her throat. To kiss her. To drink in her scent.

  He wanted to fuck her.

  Because he wanted her so very badly, he locked down the muscles in his body and didn’t move at all.

  She stared at him and seemed to wait for a reply. When none came, a soft sigh escaped her. Lacey dropped her hair. “I’m guessing you’re not about to share your secrets.”

  “Don’t remember that being part of our deal.” He hated the wooden tone of his voice. He didn’t want to be wooden with her. He wanted to be real. But he couldn’t be real with anyone. And you don’t get to start now, jackass. So suck it up.

  “Our deal. How could I forget?” She nodded. “The deal where you blackmailed me into taking this job.”

  Dex winced. “Blackmail is such a dirty word,” he muttered.

  Her head cocked. Her hand trailed down the side of her neck, as if she’d realized how absolutely obsessed he was with that portion of her body and wanted to torment him even more for fun. It was strange because he’d never gotten stuck before thinking that a woman’s neck was particularly sexy. He was more of a breast guy. And legs. He loved legs. Or hips and—

  Screw it. I love everything about Lacey.

  “Dirty words.” Her voice was husky. She kicked off her high heels and stalked toward him. Her dress rustled. “Do you like dirty words, Dex?”

  Oh, the dirty words he could imagine coming out of her mouth…

  She stopped right in front of him. “Because if you don’t like dirty words, then you shouldn’t threaten dirty things.”

  “I haven’t threatened—”

  “You said that you’d tell Eric that I was using the resources at Wilde.”

  Guilty. He had done that.

  “Look me in the eyes right now. If I were to walk away tonight, would you still tell him? If I got fed up with your secrets and your games, would you go to Eric and tell him that I’d held back on him? That I used Wilde?”

  Fucking fuck. She was pushing him into a corner.

  “Answer me honestly. We both know I can tell when you lie.”

  Only sometimes. But she was still far more accurate than others. “No.”

  Her eyes widened. If you stared into eyes like hers too long, a man could lose all control. Lose everything. For her.

  Lacey leaned even closer. “Did you ever intend to tell Eric the truth?”

  “No.” It had been an empty threat. Why would he want to do anything to hurt her? Not then. Not now. Not ever.

  Her sensual lips parted.

  “But I did intend to keep up my part of the deal. I am going to find out who killed your parents.”

  Her gaze searched his. “Roman told me not to trust you.”

  “Roman…isn’t he a stranger to you?” Dex asked carefully. “A man who whispers in shadows. Why believe him over me?”

  “Because you just admitted to lying to me.” A pause. “You know about my relationship with Eric, don’t you?”

  “Relationship?” He blinked innocently.

  “Stop it.” Her hand flattened on his chest. Her touch burned him to the core. “Don’t play games.”

  But I don’t know how to stop. It’s as basic as breath
ing as this point.

  “You had some tech guy dig up everything possible on me, didn’t you?”

  “Antony is very good at his job,” Dex allowed. “But he is way more than just a tech guy. He’d be insulted to hear you thought his skills were limited. Very fragile ego on that one.”

  “Antony?” Her brows shot up. She kept right on touching him. Without the heels, she seemed even more delicate. Fragile. But she wasn’t.

  She had her knife strapped to her thigh.

  Sexy.

  Her scent was driving him mad. He inhaled a big, delicious whiff and admitted, “I didn’t need Antony to find out the truth about you and Eric. I knew that before I ever approached you with my offer.”

  “You mean with your blackmail.”

  Unable to help himself, Dex leaned a little closer to her. “You’re the one using the dirty words, sweetheart.”

  Her tongue swiped across her lower lip. “I can get dirtier,” she promised.

  Please, yes, do it.

  “What do you know about me and Eric?”

  Maybe if he shared with her, she’d trust him more. Her trust was going to be absolutely necessary in the coming days. “I know he’s family. Part of the only family you think you have left.” Holy shit, he’d just fucked up. He needed to watch his wording better. “Eric…and his brother, Ben. They’re related to you.”

  She gave a slow nod. “Yes. My mother was their father’s sister. He didn’t even know about her. Turned out that Grandpa Wilde—who is long gone now—had an affair back in the day. My mom was given up for adoption, and I never knew about them.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Don’t you already know?”

  He did, but… “Sometimes, I like for you to tell me things. When you trust me enough to tell me things…” And, yes, he’d emphasized trust right there deliberately. “It means more.”

  A startled blink. “Why should the things in my life mean anything to you?”

  “Because you mean something to me.” His hand lifted. His fingers smoothed down her cheek. Ever so carefully. Lacey’s skin was like silk. “I like for you to tell me your secrets. I like for you to trust me.”

  “Can I trust you?” She leaned into his touch.

  Instead of answering her, he bent and brushed his lips over hers. A soft, gentle caress. “With your life,” Dex swore against her mouth. He meant it. He would do anything to keep her safe. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Lacey. Hurting her was not part of any plan that he had.

  He forced his hand to fall away from her. Forced his head to lift when all he wanted was to lock his mouth tightly to hers and take and take and take. Dex cleared his throat and walked around Lacey. Ditching his suit jacket, he headed for the chair in the corner of the room. Dex threw himself into it and grabbed the arms of the chair. He held on a little too tightly. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” His voice was gruff. Hard.

  Yeah, like my voice is the only thing hard. His dick was shoving out at full attention. His fingers dug into the chair arms. Do not move from this spot.

  Lacey turned toward him. One hand went to her hip. “You like kissing me, don’t you, Dex?”

  Pretty much more than he liked breathing. Instead of confessing that rather unsettling truth, he gave her a cocky smile. And a wink. “You like kissing me, too, sweetheart.”

  “Absolutely.” She stepped toward him. The bottom of her dress trailed over the floor. “I’m very picky about my lovers. I don’t trust easily.”

  Don’t want to think about her and other men. Don’t want to have to go out, hunt them down, and kick all their asses.

  He didn’t speak.

  Lacey kept advancing on him. When she was about a foot away from his chair, she bent and lifted the cascading falls of her dress.

  Oh, sweet hell…

  Her legs were freaking perfect. And she had that knife strapped to the top of her thigh and it looked so hot. Every bit of moisture dried from his mouth, and Dex found himself angling forward far too eagerly. “Wh-what are you doing?” Damn. Had he just stuttered? He never stuttered.

  Lacey released a soft, sensual laugh. Her left hand casually removed the knife and the strap. “Can’t very well to go bed with a knife strapped to my thigh.” She put the weapon on the nearby table. Slowly let the dress fall back to the floor.

  Dex looked up at her face. The drumming of his own heartbeat was far too loud in his ears. He got caught by her gaze and couldn’t look away. Curious, intrigued, he asked, “Are you playing a game with me?”

  “I don’t play games. I think that’s more your thing.”

  Okay. Fine. Guilty. “Then what are you doing?” Dex’s voice came out more growl than anything else.

  She inched closer. So close that if he reached out, he could curl his hand around her waist. He could pull her down on top of him. The chair was one of those over-stuffed creations, easily big enough for two. Dex could imagine pulling her down onto him. Those perfect legs of hers would straddle him as she scooped up the dress again, and then she’d be pressed hard right to—

  “I’m trying to come to a decision.”

  He swallowed. “Want to clue me in as to what that decision is about?”

  “I think you know.” Soft. Sensual. Then she advanced.

  He sucked in a breath but—

  She moved to the side of the chair. Not on my lap. Not in the chair with me. At the side. Still very, very close.

  Her index finger extended and slowly stroked down the column of his neck. And if he’d thought that his pulse was racing before, he’d been wrong. At her touch, his heart pounded so fast that his chest shook.

  She leaned over beside him. Since the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, it was easy for her to trail her fingers down his chest. Easy for her to reach out and caress him—

  He caught her hand. Trapped it there. “Don’t play.” His head turned toward her.

  “I’m not.”

  “You should go to bed.” A hard warning.

  “But if I do, I’m afraid I’ll just be in the dark, still trying to make this decision.”

  Cards on the damn table. “You trying to decide if you want to fuck me?” He made the words deliberately rough. Maybe part of him wanted to scare her away. To warn her…you’re not getting some gentleman with me. People are right when they call me a bastard. An asshole. Don’t offer me what I want so badly. Because I’ll take it.

  If he took her, he might not be able to let go.

  The last thought caught Dex off guard. He’d always been able to let go. To everyone and everything. Nothing mattered long enough to keep.

  He was still staring into her eyes. She might matter.

  “Don’t be an ass, Dex,” Lacey chided.

  “I can’t help it.” The words just spilled out. “Second nature.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  He was caressing her inner wrist. Moving his fingers slowly. Tenderly. “Your last lover was named Tim Wraith. He was the drummer in that rock band that’s everywhere these days.” Picturing the jerk with his tats and million-dollar smile…I can make a rock star vanish. He could. Wouldn’t even be that hard. “You met Tim when Wilde was hired to upgrade security for the band’s tour. After the security contract ended, you became involved with Tim.”

  “I don’t like that you know everything about me.”

  “I don’t know everything.” It was the things he didn’t know that were driving him crazy. “I don’t know why you broke up with him. Word on the street was that he wanted to marry you.”

  She looked away. No, she looked down. At her hand. The hand he held. And at the ring on her finger.

  Not Tim’s ring. Mine. The thought was savage. And wrong. This wasn’t for real. The engagement wasn’t real. Nothing that was happening between them was real. So why did everything feel so fucking real?

  “Word on the street was wrong.” She spoke with little emotion. “Tim didn’t want to marry me. He wanted to own
me. There’s a difference. He wanted me to leave Wilde. He wanted me to give up my life. He wanted me to follow his band and support him. Guy was nice at first, but the longer I was around him, the more demanding and moodier he became. He was good on paper, not so good in reality.” She bit her lower lip. Seemed to debate something in her mind, then told him, “Tim knew about my parents. He knew I wanted to find out the truth about them, but he kept telling me to let the past go. Kept telling me I had to focus on the future. On what we had. But it turned out that what we had wasn’t strong enough to last.” A faint shrug. As if she’d let go of some weight. “Tim wanted the spotlight all the time. The last thing I wanted was to be in the light.”

  There was no longing in her voice when she spoke of Tim. Good. She wasn’t hung up on the guy. Even though he’d written a damn song about her for his band. Some “Come Back to Me” bullshit of a song.

  But Lacey wasn’t going back to him.

  She was standing right by Dex.

  Lacey’s gaze held his. “Your turn.”

  He wanted her mouth. “My turn for what?”

  “Who was your last lover? When were you together? Why did it end?” Her smile held an icy edge. “Because it’s only fair that if you know my secrets, I know yours.”

  Fine. “Nicole Martin. Nine months, no, maybe ten months ago. It ended because I was lying to her every single minute we were together. She thought I was an insurance salesman who traveled a lot.”

  Lacey snorted. “Insurance, seriously?”

  Why did he find that little snort she’d occasionally give so cute? “I got tired of lying. That’s why most of my relationships end. Though, I don’t think they really are relationships. Things don’t typically get that far.” Why was he telling her all of this? But he kept going, almost as if he was warning her… “I don’t let people close. No one can know the real me. I’m a dangerous man, and I do very bad things. It’s better to keep involvements brief. If you don’t have ties, then you don’t have weaknesses.”

  “But you’re not lying to me. I know who you are. I know what you do.”

  “You know who I am.” He inclined his head. “But, sweetheart, if you had any idea about all of the things I want to do to you right now, you’d back away. You’d get your sexy body and scent away from me. You’d walk into that bedroom. Shut the door. Maybe even lock it.”