Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2)

by Stella Barcelona

  Now or never, asshole.

  “You were relieved.”

  “Of course I was.” Silken hair brushing against his chest as she lifted her head so their eyes met, she nodded. “I thought you were going to die a pretty horrific death.”

  “Not talking about last night. Talking about seven years ago.”

  As though he’d delivered a physical hit, her body stiffened, but, thank God, she didn’t pull away from him or do anything else to shut him out.

  “When I told you that Theresa had called and said she was pregnant, when I told you what I thought I needed to do, I read shock in your reaction. I read hurt. Hell—I read heartbreak, and I still don’t think I was wrong on that. I read all kinds of things in those few minutes. Time stayed still long enough for those awful minutes to be buried in my brain for the rest of my life.” He paused. “What I didn’t figure out until now was that underneath all of your surprise, anger, and cool recovery, that you were relieved that I wasn’t sticking around. You might have loved me, but you were happy to see me go.”

  Palms flat on his chest, she pushed away from him. He let his arms fall to his side as he let go of her. He exhaled, waiting for her to end the conversation prematurely. To stand up and charge to the bathroom. Instead, as more light filtered into the room, she sat up in the bed within touching distance. The sheets covered from her hips down. The slope of her breasts inspired an erection, but he managed to focus on her face, with her unreadable eyes.

  Her chin up, and dry-eyed glance told him she wasn’t feeling regret, hurt, or denial.

  It was more like, “Bingo, buddy’. You caught me. Now what?”

  Fuckitall.

  Here’s confirmation. She might have loved you, but she was relieved you walked away, dumb shit.

  Why the hell had he not realized it? Answer to that was simple enough. He’d been so goddamn miserable, he’d barely managed to find his way back to Miami.

  Bigger question—would realizing then that she was relieved to see him go have changed anything in his life?

  Maybe. But speculation’s a waste of time on this one. Make it change your life now.

  Clearing his throat past the crash and swirl of lost opportunities, he said, “This is what I’ve figured out. You’d prefer not to have the kind of commitment I’d offer.”

  Do not tell her she’s scared. You’ll only piss her off. It will end this conversation.

  Mind desperately searching for words that would keep her listening, knowing with every fiber in his soul that he needed to get out the words that he’d never managed to say before, he continued, “One-hundred percent commitment. That is what I’d give you. Heart, body, and soul. It’s what I’d offer, and it’s what I want. Until death do us part. Being a couple. Meaning we live for each other. The kind of commitment your parents—”

  “Don’t talk about my parents,” she whispered. Honest eyes glanced at him. With a shake of her head, she whispered, “I don’t like to focus on them.”

  And that was the crux of the problem, because she didn’t realize what their relationship had done to her. He barely understood it himself, and that was with the bird’s eye view Ragno had given him—which his gut told him was one-hundred percent accurate. It was the only thing that made any sense.

  “We don’t need to go there,” he said, his voice low, allowing her to be in denial, though he knew she’d never cross the hurdle that would lead her to him if she didn’t own it. “But I want you to tell me why you were relieved that someone who loved you with all his heart, someone who you loved back, would walk away. I have all kinds of ideas. This time around, I’m learning everything I can about you, because if I don’t understand what makes you tick, this time…when I walk away from you I’m going to wonder about it. Wondering about you leads to wanting you. Hoping for you. And I can’t do that again. Won’t do it again. The answer as to why you’re relieved will have to come from you. You’ve got to own it, Sam. Got to understand it. Overpower it.” Glancing at her, it seemed like she was listening. Understanding what he meant. She wasn’t stupid, after all. “Or not.”

  “You never said you loved me.”

  Well, she has you on that one.

  “But you knew it, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, eyes on him.

  “Know it now, don’t you?”

  Her nod was barely perceptible, as though acknowledging his love for her came with a high price that she wasn’t ready to pay.

  “With all of my heart,” he added. “Body. Soul.”

  In the perfect world, she’d be able to tell me she loved me in return.

  Silence in the room told him he was light years away from hearing those words from her. Even if she loved him with every fiber in her body, she was incapable of saying it. Acknowledging it. Admitting it. And if she couldn’t admit it to herself, he was royally screwed.

  Glancing at him with a look that told him she was waging a deep, inner battle, one that he couldn’t fault her for, because he now thought he understood the source of it, she drew a deep breath. “Why?”

  “Hell. I’ve done a lot of thinking on that one. You reached into my chest and stole my heart the first time I laid eyes on you. I can’t honestly tell you all the reasons why. It’s more than just my physical attraction to you, though that’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. More than the fact that you’re the one and only woman I’ve ever met who I’d never need to apologize to for my endless dedication to work. More than the fact that I’m mesmerized by your brain. More than admiration for your ambition. More than the fact that I hang on every word you say. I think one of the things that hooked me early on was that you didn’t need me for a goddamn thing. Since my father died, I’ve lived every day of my life fulfilling needs.”

  “I understood that,” she said, her voice soft. “Theresa was pregnant. She needed you. I understood you were doing something because of someone else’s need. I got it, Zeus.”

  He nodded. “One reason I could walk away from you is a reason why I loved you.” He reached for her chin, ran his fingers along the soft skin. “You didn’t need me for anything. But you wanted me. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life. I felt…important. You made me feel like I had the world in my hands. I felt like I’d finally found a part of myself that went missing when I watched my father die. A part of me that I didn’t even know was missing. The fact that you wanted me made me feel better than whole. I was virtually levitating from it. I felt…things. Feelings. I feel things when I’m with you, Sam. I don’t feel things with most other people. I’ve trained myself not to.”

  He traced his fingertip along her neck, arm, shoulder, and went back to her chin and lifted it, because she was now studying the sheets, as though looking at him had become painful.

  When her eyes once again rested on his, he said, “If I don’t make you feel that way, if you don’t want me enough to overcome your fear of committing to me—”

  “I’m not afraid of commitment.”

  “You’re afraid of me.”

  Her alarm rang. She reached for her phone on the bedside table, turned off the alarm, and took the opportunity to stand on the other side of the bed. “As I was saying—if you don’t want me as badly as I want you, if that want doesn’t have you ready to fight your demons, then I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about that. It’s got to be reciprocal. You have to know that I want you more than my next breath. Really want you. Like want you with me every step of the way. Forever.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  As his gaze took in her nude body in the dim morning light, he knew there’d never be a time when he’d forget her curves and angles, how pretty and honestly vulnerable she looked at that moment. Nor would he forget the way her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, or the way her lack of an appropriate response was the equivalent of an icepick jab into his heart.

  The inescapable truth that he now faced was that when the job was over, when they parted ways, she was goi
ng to be one of the biggest regrets of his life. His heart stung with the rejection, but his mind told him it was inevitable. “That’s answer enough.”

  She stayed silent as he stood, each second she didn’t say anything shooting slivers of ice into his heart. “Ball’s in your court. Game’s over when the job is done. Not an ultimatum. Just a fact. I’m not angry. I want you to use every ounce of strength you have in your body to conquer whatever it is that has you scared of my brand of love. I understand people and their demons, Sam. I get it.” He drew a deep breath. “Not that I’ll resist you while we’re stuck with each other.”

  He scooped his jeans off the floor, found his boxers underneath the sheets, and threw one last glance at her. It was enough of a glance to change his mind about exiting her bedroom, because she was walking in his direction, a look of tortured misery in her eyes as she drew near to him.

  “You know it isn’t just our past that’s in the way now, don’t you? Justin and I will eventually get married, Zeus. Nothing that’s happening between us will change that.”

  “Don’t marry him.”

  “I will. I just thought you should know.” Eyes tortured, voice low, she looked like the least happy bride-to-be he could ever imagine. Stepping closer to him, she reached for his left shoulder with her right hand, and slipped her left arm around his back.

  “Do you love him? With all of your heart?”

  Her hesitation was an answer. Wasn’t it?

  “That part in the marriage vows about until death do us part.” His voice was throaty now, and low, as he opened his arms around her and gave her the comfort she was seeking. “It’s just words. Until reality hits and you’re spending the rest of your fucking life with someone who you like enough to sleep with—”

  “But I do love him. Justin is my best friend, and really, you don’t exactly have the right to talk about my relationship with him.”

  “I don’t buy it. If you loved him, you wouldn’t be making love to me.”

  “This is sex,” she whispered. “Just sex.”

  “Yeah. That was why your hands were shaking and you were crying the other night when you thought I wouldn’t know.” Her eyes flashed with something—anger, hurt, embarrassment—hell if he knew. She shifted her gaze away from his, and he didn’t get the chance to figure it out.

  “When that person is a great friend, when you sort of love them, the reality that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with them makes every day seem like an eternity. Months seem endless. Years are unfathomable.” He bent his face close and lifted her chin in the crook of his finger until she looked at him. “When that person isn’t someone who makes you feel that when you leave them you’d rather die than keep going, further and further away, marrying them…just isn’t worth it.”

  “Marriages shouldn’t be based on emotion. Look at what happened to yours.”

  “I’m talking about you, dammit. That’s how I feel about you. My marriage to Theresa fell apart because I didn’t feel that way about her.”

  Her breasts were smashed into his chest. Her nipples had become hard nubs. He wished like hell he could walk away from her, but he couldn’t. The fact that he couldn’t festered for a second as she lingered in his arms. His blood, simmering since the job had started, became a slow boil of frustration. He pushed her away. She held onto his arms, gripping them tightly at his elbows.

  “I still want you,” she whispered. “I’ll always want you. You had me heart, body, and soul seven years ago. I was relieved when you left, because that kind of love was never in the cards for me. Now, I can only offer my body.”

  She tiptoed, raising her lips to his, softly moaning as his hands moved to her breasts. When she gave in, for those moments when they were joined, blissful sensations assuaged the rawness that accompanied the swirling emotions, feelings, and disappointment she inspired. He placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her against the wall. Not so gently, he turned her to face the wall, intending to show her exactly what plain old, meaningless sex could feel like with him.

  Everything I ever do with her backfires.

  Instead of taking her fast and hard, and pounding into her until he was spent, as he planned, she turned her beautiful face to the side and sighed his name. He couldn’t just gaze at her profile while he pumped into her. When he bent to kiss her ear, her mouth found his. She reached behind her back and his, holding him to her with his forearm. He changed the pace of his body to give him time to savor the taste of her mouth.

  Next thing he knew he was holding her tightly across her chest with one arm, his fingers kneading her breasts, while his other hand reached around and he was softly fingering her where they were joined. The hard fuck he had planned became an extended caress of the joining of two bodies that perfectly fit together, the kind of caress that spelled love even more than words. As her moans grew louder, he used the pads of his index finger and thumb to work her clitoris, gently thrusting up and flexing into her, until she lifted her hands, palms flat on the wall, and arched her hips back as she climaxed, meeting his thrusts with a backwards hip motion. “Zeus. Oh. Zeus.”

  Upon hearing his name, the tight, pulsing feel of her walls drew an extended climax from him, every moment of it making the heartache she caused him worthwhile. As he arched into her and peaked, he knew that he could handle any amount of pain she caused, as long as it came with such exquisite, mind-numbing release.

  After, he held her as they both leaned against the wall. “Why is sex always so good with you?” Eyes closed, she whispered her question as though she wasn’t expecting an answer.

  “Not sex. Don’t you understand?” Planting kisses along her hairline, he wasn’t afraid to admit the truth to himself, or to her. “Whenever I touch you, I’m making love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  London, England

  Sunday, February 6

  Annoying as hell rhythmic beats of low background music resonated throughout Tapas de los Dioses. A bottle of Dom Perignon produced a soft pop as the cork came out. Zeus had positioned himself so he could see Sam and McDougall in his peripheral vision. Stationed fifteen paces away from her in the intimate Soho restaurant, Zeus was both too far, and too close

  Eye aversion was a learned skill. He’d done enough time in his early career as a bodyguard to know how not to look directly at the package. And he couldn’t forget that Sam was the package. Not the woman he loved, but the person he was tasked to protect.

  He knew how to observe everything they did, everything that needed to be seen in the narrow, rectangular restaurant, without staring. His direct gaze was on the door leading to the street, and his back was to the right of the door that led to the kitchen.

  Sam would stand out wherever she was, and in whatever she wore. Tonight, seated in one of ten, six-top crescent-shaped booths in the stark black and cream restaurant, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She wore a sea-foam green, softly touchable-looking sweater dress that exposed her collarbones and conformed to every luscious curve. Close up, the color made her eyes look like light, exquisite jade. Tonight, but for the drive over, he wasn’t the one getting to enjoy the color of her eyes. McDougall was so fucking close to her he was almost occupying the same space.

  Backup, asshole, she isn’t on the menu tonight.

  But she is.

  And the fact that Zeus had to stand here, stoic and invisible while it all happened, ate at his gut.

  Soft light from chandeliers in a variety of styles and sizes hung over crescent-shaped booths. Candles on the table where Sam and McDougall sat added to golden light that reflected off her creamy skin. A white marble bar top extending the full length of the south wall, was backed by illuminated glass shelves that made bottles of liquor look like an art installation.

  Her smile—directed at McDougall—was radiant. It hurt his fucking heart to see her look at another man that way. Fingernails scraping along a chalkboard would have grated on his nerves less.

  McDougall had orchestrated
a relaxed meal. Chef Diego, a rising star in the world of celebrity chefs, had closed his newest restaurant for the private dinner. Private as in: Sam, McDougall, and eight bodyguards. Four agents from EDGE, and four Black Raven agents, including Zeus. The remainder of the restaurant, with its white tablecloths and fresh flowers on each table, was dim. The warm light on the happy couple made their table for two the focus of the room, and the focus of Zeus’s attention, whether he liked it or not.

  Not.

  According to Ragno, before becoming a chef with a flair for creating restaurants that became instant hits, Daniel Diego had gone to Harvard for his undergraduate degree in marketing. He’d met McDougall there, and they’d become friends. The good-looking chef, of medium build and stature, with slick-backed, jet-black hair, had popped the cork for the couple himself and was pouring the golden liquid into two crystal flutes.

  “Please, stay and dine with us,” Sam said to Diego, her voice carrying across the empty space, to where Zeus stood like a fifth wheel, his dick in his hand.

  “Samantha, I’m the chef. I’m actually cooking tonight. Your security teams insisted on minimal personnel.” Diego chuckled. “Which means I have to actually work.”

  “At least have a glass of champagne with us,” she insisted, “then cook.”

  “Don’t even try to resist her, Diego. Pour yourself a glass of champagne and sit for a few minutes.” McDougall’s voice was deep. Authoritative. Steady. Confident.

  Fuck.

  Of course his voice would be perfect.

  “My guiding principle with Samantha is to give her what she wants. She doesn’t ask for much, but what she wants, she will get. One way, or another.”

  Amen.

  Did he know that just a few hours ago Sam had melted in his arms? Did McDougall give a damn that when she came, it was Zeus’s name she called? Over and fucking over again?

  Diego lifted his hand. At his signal, a waiter brought him a crystal flute. He poured himself a glass, and sat in the booth next to Sam.

  Hell. This night will last forever.