by Cynthia Eden
His hands moved to curve around her nape. He tilted her head and she took more of him.
He was—
“Jasmine!”
He had her on her feet. Two steps and he had her on the bed. Her legs fell apart as she hit the mattress, and he was right there. He’d put on a condom in an instant and now he had her in his sights. Still standing, at the side of the bed. He pulled her toward him. Her hips were at the edge of the mattress and he thrust into her, deep and hard, filling every inch of her.
“Warned you,” Drake bit out. “Want you…too much.”
And there it was. The wild, frantic mating that she’d secretly wanted. The rush that wasn’t controlled. The need that wasn’t safe.
In and out. He drove into her again and again, and Jasmine loved it. Her nails scraped over his shoulders as she fought to get closer to him. To hold him as tightly as she could and take everything that he had to give.
She arched against him, her head tipping back against the bed. His mouth pressed to her throat. The sting of his teeth electrified her.
When she came, Jasmine felt Drake erupt inside of her. Biting her lip, Jasmine tried to hold back a scream. She didn’t want—
“Give it to me,” Drake demanded. “Give me everything.”
So she cried out her pleasure.
And he growled her name.
***
He was watching her sleep.
Drake stared down at Jasmine as she lay curled in his bed. His arm was under her head. Hell, he was her pillow. And he…didn’t mind.
She looked innocent. Sexy.
Right.
And that was wrong.
No woman was supposed to look right in his bed. He had a rule—his lovers didn’t stay the night.
So why was he pulling her closer and inhaling that vanilla scent that clung to her?
She’d been so hesitant when she knelt before him and told him that it had been her first time. He hadn’t wondered if the words were a lie. Her eyes had flickered with nervousness and desire, and she’d touched him almost reverently.
She’d also nearly made him fall to his knees when that sexy mouth had closed around his aroused flesh.
But the desire was sated. The passion had cooled.
Or, at least, that was what Drake was trying to tell himself. The twisted truth was that he’d fuck her again. And again. He wanted to take her endlessly. Sex with her had been even better the second time.
He loved to see her eyes go blind with pleasure. Loved her taste.
She snuggled closer to him.
His hand smoothed over her shoulder.
His phone vibrated then. He’d moved it to the small nightstand, and he reached out, being careful not to disturb her as he read the text.
Got info you need.
The text was from Trace.
Drake glanced at Jasmine’s sleeping face.
The phone vibrated again. His gaze slid over the screen.
Be careful. There’s more going on than you know.
Right. Because, of course, Trace would’ve found out that Jasmine was trying to screw him over.
He almost texted back…I don’t want to know. Because he just wanted to stay in that bed with her, and act as if the rest of the world didn’t matter. He wanted Jasmine to simply be the woman that she appeared to be in his arms.
No secrets. No lies.
That wasn’t the way his reality worked.
Carefully, he rose from the bed. Jasmine had said that she’d called Maxwell from the phone at his home in the Quarter, so getting that number hadn’t exactly been hard.
Instead of responding to Trace’s text, Drake called Maxwell Case. The call was already overdue.
The phone rang once. Twice. Then…
“Who the hell is this?”
Drake smiled. “I’m the man planning to destroy you.”
Jasmine stirred a bit on the bed, moving restlessly.
“Archer.”
“You shouldn’t have started a war with me.” Because if there was one thing that Drake knew how to do, it was fight a war.
“You’re the one who started this. You think I don’t know what you did? To her?”
Drake’s gaze narrowed on Jasmine. She was still sleeping.
“If she didn’t come back, she told me to look for you. She thought she could count on you.”
A cold fist squeezed his guts. “This is personal,” he said. Not about business. Not about casinos.
“She trusted you, and you killed her.”
A chill encased Drake’s skin as those words sank in. Drake realized that his past was coming back to bite him in the ass.
And Drake couldn’t take his eyes off Jasmine. Did she know? Did she realize what this nightmare was truly all about?
“What did she matter to you?” Drake asked. He didn’t make any confession.
“She was mine, far longer than she was yours. My Anna Jean…”
Dammit. The man had just confirmed Drake’s suspicion.
You killed her…Anna Jean…
This wasn’t about casinos. Money. Power.
It was about a woman. Betrayal. Vengeance.
His past—and a reckoning.
Jasmine had mentioned that Maxwell had been in the military. He should have paid more attention to those words.
Maxwell had been enlisted and so had Anna Jean. Beautiful, lying Anna Jean.
Beautiful, dead Anna Jean.
“We were going to take down your friends,” Maxwell said. “Anna Jean and I had a plan, but then you killed her.”
Jasmine’s hand fluttered against the covers, as if she were seeking him in her sleep.
“Now I will take everything away from you,” Maxwell promised him. “And in the end, you’ll beg to die.”
“I don’t beg for anything.” Never had. Never would. “And you’ve made a mistake. The same mistake she made. I won’t be played. And anyone who comes after me…well, you’re going to be finding a swift trip to hell waiting on you.”
Laughter was Maxwell’s answer.
But then the laughter stilled. “What will you do…” Maxwell asked him. “When another woman dies in your arms?”
That cold fist squeezed him tighter.
“Jasmine shouldn’t have turned to you—”
She didn’t just turn to me. She gave herself to me. Came in my arms. Screamed for me.
“I’ll punish her, but, don’t worry, you’ll be there. You’ll watch it all.”
Jasmine’s lashes fluttered open.
“You’re a dead man,” Drake said flatly.
Jasmine gasped as she heard his words. She shot upright in bed, clutching the covers to her.
That mocking laughter came again.
The call ended with a fast click.
With wide, unreadable eyes, Jasmine stared up at him. “M-Maxwell? That was him on the line, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“He’s on his way to New Orleans. He may already be here.” She scrambled from the bed. Dragged the covers with her. “What are you planning?”
“To kill him.”
Jasmine flinched. “No, go to the cops. Talk to them.”
What? That was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “That’s not an option.” Not with Anna Jean’s death being tangled in this mess.
“You don’t know what he’s capable of doing—”
His hand sank into her hair and he tipped her head back. “But you do, and you’re going to tell me everything you know about him.”
“Drake…”
“You want to be free of him, don’t you? I’ll make sure you’re free.”
But Jasmine’s body trembled. “I don’t want you to kill him! That isn’t who you are! That isn’t—”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Ah, princess, and here I thought you’d done your ‘research’ on me.” With a mocking smile on his lips, he said, “I’m very good at killing. You should have discovered that by now.”
She pulled away f
rom him.
“Maxwell won’t hurt you again because we are going to take him down. You’re going to tell me his weaknesses. Every single thing that you know about him. And I will use that information to break him.”
“He hates you,” Jasmine whispered. “So much…why? I could never figure out why.”
Why not tell her? Drake shrugged. The move was careless, his past wasn’t. “Because it seems we were both dumb enough to fall for the same woman.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “What?”
“We fell for her, and then I killed her.”
***
“Has the situation with the bounty hunter been handled as I asked?”
Maxwell Case stared out at the glittering New Orleans skyline.
“Yeah, boss, he’s been left just as you ordered.”
He’d been enraged when he found out just what Wayne had done to Jasmine. Good thing that doctor in Vegas had been so chatty…
With the right leverage, anyone would talk.
Anyone would break.
“Pressure has to be applied,” Maxwell said. “Archer has such a perfect cover now. The legitimate businessman. We’re blowing that cover to hell. The world will see him for who he is, and he’ll pay for his crimes.”
“What about…what about Jasmine?”
He turned at the question. His guard, Saxon, had been with him for a while. Saxon could always be counted on to get the job done—no matter what that job might be. The man was a loyal employee.
And he had wonderful, deadly skills that Maxwell so enjoyed using on his enemies.
“You’re not…you’re not really going to kill Jazz are you?” Hesitation slowed Saxon’s words. It was the only time Maxwell had ever heard hesitation in the man’s voice.
Saxon had been the one to first bring the lovely Jasmine to Maxwell’s attention. Saxon and Jasmine had worked together before. Smaller jobs. Little heists.
They were friends, of a sort.
“If it weren’t for Jazz, the Arrow would be nothing more than a pile of rubble in Vegas.” Anna Jean would’ve liked that. She would’ve laughed as the flames hit the sky. “She turned on me. She must have hacked my computer, and she told Archer everything she knew.”
Saxon was sweating. “But…”
Maxwell waved his hand in the air. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle Jazz.”
“She’s going to suffer?”
It was such a shame. Saxon seemed almost concerned for Jazz. But then, Jasmine had a talent for getting to people. For slipping right past their guards before they even realized it.
Maybe it was those eyes of hers. So deep and dark. Or it could’ve been her dimples. The woman had a beautiful smile.
He’d caught himself watching her smile once or twice. Waiting for those dimples to flash. Perhaps in another time…another place…
He shook his head. He only had this time. “Jasmine isn’t who you think she is.”
He’d recently uncovered more intel on her.
Saxon backed up a step.
“So the hell, yes,” Maxwell narrowed his eyes on the guard. “I will make her suffer.” He would make her beg, bleed, and burn. “And if you have a problem with that, then—”
“N-no problem,” Saxon managed.
Good. Because if it had been a problem, then Saxon would’ve been dead.
In his organization, people either followed Maxwell’s orders completely—or those people were eliminated.
***
She watched the sun rise over the city. Sleep hadn’t exactly been an option for Jasmine, not after Drake’s big reveal during the hours of darkness.
And not with his endless questions.
Where is his money—all of it, Jasmine. Off-shore accounts, properties…
I want his business associates. Every name that you know.
Why did he pick you? Why you?
He’d seemed enraged when he asked that question.
Her answer hadn’t exactly thrilled him. Because I was convenient.
She’d worked with one of Maxwell’s bodyguards before. Saxon had been the one to tell Maxwell about her particular skill set.
“He’s out there.” Drake’s arm brushed against hers as he came to stand with her on the balcony.
A dull headache pounded behind her eyes. “Yes, he is.” Waiting. Planning to strike. How would he attack first?
He’ll come after me.
Jasmine figured that Maxwell would save his big game for last.
“I answered all of your questions.” She’d given Drake as much information as she—safely—could. “Now, I need you to answer mine.” Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him. “Who was the woman?”
He was staring at the rising sun. She knew just how that sunrise looked—like blood flashing across the sky. “Anna Jean. Beautiful Anna Jean.”
The name meant nothing to her. That would be changing as soon as she got near a computer. “Did the beautiful Anna Jean have a last name?”
His gaze slanted toward her. “That doesn’t matter.”
It did. Everything in this vendetta mattered.
“How did you meet her?” Jasmine pressed.
“We worked…covert operations together. After I got out of the military.” His lips twisted. “She was my friend’s girl.”
Hold up, wait, that didn’t make—
“But I had sex with her. One drunken night.” He ran a hand over his face. “Because that’s what a good friend I was to Tucker.”
She backed up a step. Her hips hit the balcony’s railing. “Did you…did you love her?” Jasmine held her breath as she waited for his answer.
He kept staring at the sun. “Maybe.”
That wasn’t really an answer.
His head turned. “But that didn’t stop me from killing her.”
Those words were supposed to terrify her. Okay, they did terrify her. And after dropping that big bombshell, the guy just turned around and started to head toward the bathroom.
“No!” So she’d yelled. That yell had stopped him in his tracks.
She ran around and faced him. Jasmine jabbed her index finger into his chest. “I deserve more than that. I talked until I was hoarse for you.” That would be why her voice sounded so husky. Not because she was scared and sad and close to breaking on the inside. “So don’t just spout a line about killing her. Tell me what happened. Everything that happened.”
“Why?”
Seriously? He made her want to yell, again. “Because I want to know! I want to see past this cold mask you’re giving me! You didn’t kill her in cold blood. You couldn’t have.”
“How would you know that?”
“I think you’re more than that.”
“You want me to be more.” His lips twisted. “You need to accept that I’m not.”
Her heart shook her chest. “What happened?”
“She betrayed me. I killed her.”
She grabbed him and she shook him. Okay, she tried to shake him, but the guy was an unmovable object of stone. “Stop it!”
He blinked at her. Then his gaze lowered to her clutching hands. A furrow appeared between his eyes. “Why are you drawn to the danger?”
She didn’t let him go.
“I tell you that I killed the last woman who told me that she loved me, and you…you hold on to me as tightly as you can.” He looked back up at her. “Something is wrong there, princess.”
Something has been wrong with me for a long time. “There’s more to the story,” she said stubbornly even though his words had hurt. “You’re trying to scare me, but you don’t have to do that. Don’t you get it? I was scared of you before we even met.”
His head cocked to the right as he seemed to study her. “Yet you came to my bed.”
“I’m scared every single day of my life.” If he lived her life, he would be, too. “Fear can’t stop me.” If it could, she’d be hiding in a closet some place, with her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the darkness. “Now drop the bullshit,
and tell me what really happened.”
“You’re so sure I’m not a monster?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wrong.”
She wanted to slug him. “Tell me.”
At first, she didn’t think he would. That glittering gaze of his seemed to weigh her and judge her. How many times had she been judged before and found lacking? Too many. She tried to stiffen her shoulders and straighten her spine. If he closed her out, then fine, she’d walk away. She wasn’t going to just hang around for nothing.
“The first time she died, we were in a wasteland of snow and ice. On a mission gone bad, bad because she’d betrayed my team. She’d set us all up to die so that she could make away with a fortune.”
“The…first time?” Just how many times could one person die?
His gaze stared into the past, and, judging by his expression, she knew it wasn’t a pretty sight. “I was taken on that mission. Held. Tortured because they wanted more intel on my team.”
“Your team?”
“My buddies and I formed our own covert reconnaissance group after our tours were over.”
His buddies…Trace Weston and Noah York.
“Trace and Noah came for me. They got me out—them and Tucker.” His voice roughened on the last name. “Anna Jean was supposed to be Tucker’s girl. Of course, he didn’t know that I’d taken her behind his back. One time.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I was drunk and I woke up afterwards, hating what I’d done. But Anna Jean…she was the kind of woman who could get beneath your skin.”
She pulled her hands away from him.
“She wanted me to be with her. Only I wasn’t going to betray Tucker like that again…hell, maybe that was why she was so eager to sell us all out. I pissed her off, and she got her payback.”
“The scars on your back…” The scars that she’d felt in the darkness. Felt but hadn’t seen. Her hands had stroked more scars, too. On his stomach. His chest. So much pain. So much hell.
“Those scars are mementos from my captivity. They remind me of the price for betrayal.” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “Noah and Trace got me out of there, but before we could make it to safety, we came under enemy fire. Enemies were all around and Anna Jean…she used that moment to come at me. I turned and saw her gun, and I did the only thing I could…”
She couldn’t breathe.