by Eve Langlais
It seemed unlikely. He’d been inactive for almost a year now. His cover remained intact.
However, a good assassin always had enemies. Not the people he’d killed, of course. Those stayed dead.
But their families—spouses, children, even parents—sometimes took exception to his work. They didn’t understand it wasn’t personal. People paid Reaper to do a job. However, the living let emotion get in the way, and it convinced them they needed revenge.
Was this a case of someone trying to hurt Annie to get to him?
He had to find out, and that was why he left her. The reason he’d called in a favor to Declan and asked him to watch her building.
His friend arrived within the half-hour as he sat two blocks down, watching.
A tap on his window, and he rolled it down. His friend leaned on the frame.
“So, what’s the scoop?”
“Fifth level, fifth and sixth windows from the left. Possible stalker. Could be a pro.” Pros who’d missed both times?
“I didn’t think you were active on any jobs,” Declan noted.
“I’m not. It’s personal.”
Shock creased Declan’s face. “Well, damn, brother. I didn’t realize that dating thing was working out for you.”
“It’s not.” Then because he could tell Declan was going to ask more questions, added, “It’s complicated.”
Because he wanted a woman who didn’t want him. A woman with mystery surrounding her. A woman he hated leaving.
Is she safe? What if she needs me? She didn’t even know she could call him for help.
Nor could he tell her. Explaining his special skills opened a door he wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
However, there were ways to protect her that didn’t involve confessing that he killed people for a living.
Reaper made plans as he drove back to his office.
I’ll need cameras. A few of them to watch her apartment and the ways into her building. A network of eyes to observe when he couldn’t be with her in person.
He’d also get his mechanic to install a secondary hidden GPS and microphone to counter any attempted kidnapping attempts.
Surveillance was part one of what he had to do.
I need to dig deeper into her past. Perhaps Annie belonged to a witness protection program. It would explain her lack of history. Had she seen something she shouldn’t have? Had she previously dated someone in the mob? Given their lack of compunction when it came to silencing people, it would explain her level of fear.
By the time he’d reached the office, he had several mental lists ready. Once at his desk, having bypassed Wendy and her arched brow, he shed his coat and jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He dug in to the databases. Dug deep and thoroughly.
Not a single answer was to be found. Nothing but the same dead-ends as before.
But good news, Declan reported her building as quiet, and he dared to grab a few hours of sleep at home before heading over there the next morning.
Reaper met Declan and performed a handoff—i.e., a package of surveillance equipment that he preferred to think of as protective rather than stalking. He ignored Declan’s arched brow.
“Gonna tell me now why you are watching the chick?” Declan asked.
“None of your business.” Explaining why would involve admitting things he’d rather not.
“She’s hot for an older broad.”
At which point, Reaper grabbed the other man and shoved him against his car. “Don’t you be ogling her. She’s off-limits.”
“Oh, so it’s that way.” Declan gave him a knowing grin. “That’s cool.”
No, it wasn’t cool. Out of control and threatening his friends wasn’t Reaper’s usual modus operandi.
How could one woman change him?
Reaper leaned against his car, closed his eyes, and wondered what the fuck he was doing. “Why am I here?” he muttered aloud.
“Yeah, why are you here?” He opened his eyes to see Annie glaring at him, her cheeks bright with color.
She looked fetching in her ivory-colored parka, the hood pulled up over her hair.
He gestured to his car. “Your chariot awaits.”
“I was planning on taking the bus.”
“Public transit.” He gasped. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Not as much as you are,” she retorted. “Did you seriously show up to give me a ride to work?”
“It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“Without warning.”
“Had I told you ahead of time, you would have refused.” He already knew that.
Her lips pursed. “I would have. So you ambushed me.”
“An act of kindness isn’t an ambush. Your car is being repaired. I thought you might like a warm ride to work.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Are you saying I have an ulterior motive?” He totally did. He wondered what she thought it was.
“I thought I made it clear we couldn’t date.”
“You did. This isn’t dating. This is friendship.”
“This is above and beyond friendship.”
“Then you have shitty friends.” He held open the passenger door. “You’re also being uncommonly stubborn and ungrateful.”
“Yet it doesn’t seem to be scaring you away.”
He grinned. “I don’t scare easily. Now, get your ass in the car. I’m driving you.”
He could tell she was about to say no, and since the word offended him, he stopped it before it escaped.
By pressing his mouth against hers, he caught her slight gasp of surprise. Felt the softening of her lips.
Only then did he pull away and murmur, “Get in.”
She got in the car, and only once he’d pulled away from the curb did she mutter, “That was playing dirty. Don’t do that again.”
“I ain’t promising anything, honey.” Not when the taste of her was pure ambrosia.
They didn’t say much on the way to her office. He let her stew, mostly because he knew she thought about him.
Arriving at her work, just because he knew she expected him to try, he didn’t lean in for a kiss. Simply helped her out of the car with a casual, “See you later.”
How pathetic was it that he counted the hours?
Chapter Fifteen
See you later.
What was that supposed to mean? And why was Annique inordinately disappointed that he didn’t even try to give her a smooch? She’d told him not to. He didn’t. Yet now, she kind of wished he had.
I apparently can’t make up my mind.
She did know that she didn’t trust herself around him. Time to make sure there would be no later, starting with getting her car back. Except that was proving more difficult than expected.
She frowned into the phone. On the line, she had the garage holding her vehicle hostage.
“What do you mean my car won’t be ready for a few days? It just needs tires.”
Actually, according to the mechanic, it needed a hell of a lot more, and Mr. Montgomery said to do the work.
Mr. Montgomery seemed awfully involved in her life as of late, and she was getting tired of it, which was why later that afternoon, she grabbed a cab and had it drop her off at his office.
Screw texting or calling.
She wanted to do this in person, and, no, she didn’t care to examine her reasons why.
The security guard asked her business as she strode past him in the vestibule.
“I’m here to see a realtor with Bad Boy Inc.” What a ridiculous name. As if they were some kind of motorcycle club, but then again, the marketing on it would be epic.
“Do you have an appointment?” the guard asked, rounding his desk.
“No. But Montgomery will see me.”
“I’m afraid I have to call ahead to be sure.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Her gaze narrowed. “I want
to surprise him.”
“Are you a client?”
“No.”
“His girlfriend?” said with a lot more incredulity.
“He wishes,” she snorted. “And that’s the problem. Mr. Montgomery needs to be told that when a woman says no, it doesn’t mean go behind her back and approve car repairs she doesn’t need.”
The guard scratched his chin. “Reaper did this?”
“He did. Stupid man is bossy and thinks he can flirt his way out of it. Not this time.”
“Reaper, flirt?” The guard sounded quite faint. He waved to the elevators. “Go ahead, ma’am. I won’t warn Reaper you’re coming. But I will have to tell reception so they don’t shoot you on sight.” The man winked.
Another joker. She’d had enough of men who thought they were funny.
The elevator ride wasn’t long enough for her to fully decide what she’d say. It did allow time, though, for her to second-guess coming here.
In her office, confronting him in person had seemed like a great idea. She’d make it very clear he was to stop meddling with her and her life.
Now, with the elevator doors sliding open to reveal a posh office space, the reception area large, the offices glass-walled and easily viewed, she almost turned around and went back down.
What am I doing? She turned to step back into the cab, but the doors had slid shut and offered no escape.
Dammit. She turned to see the receptionist standing.
With a smile bright and welcoming, the older lady said, “You must be the woman Frankie was telling me about. You’re here to see Reaper.”
Again with that silly name. Then again, Charming was no better. “Mr. Montgomery and I have unfinished business.”
The blonde, with her big bouffant hair reminiscent of the eighties, couldn’t hide her curiosity. “Realty business?”
“Personal business, actually.”
She clapped. “Really? That old dog. I don’t think he’s mentioned you. Who are you, darling?”
“His matchmaker. At least I was,” Annique replied with a scowl. “He hired me to find him someone, but he’s impossible.” Impossibly perfect. “I told him we couldn’t help him, but he just won’t take no for an answer.”
“Reaper is the determined sort, but who can resist that handsome mug?”
“Handsome doesn’t mean he gets to do whatever he likes,” she grumbled.
“Oh, what has he done?” The woman sounded curious.
“He won’t leave me alone. Thinks he can tell me what to do.”
“Is he meddling in your personal life?” Said with a great deal of skepticism. His workplace obviously didn’t know him very well.
“Yes, he is, and it has to stop. I can’t find him a woman if he insists on flirting with me. I’m there to match clients. I am not available, and I am most certainly not what he needs.”
“Of course, you’re not. Out of curiosity, what do you think he needs?”
“For starters, someone who won’t mind he’s arrogant.”
“Very self-assured,” the receptionist agreed.
“Someone down to earth, given he’s way too handsome for his own good.”
“Indeed, he is.”
“And a flirt. A man shouldn’t flirt with a woman who says she’s not interested.” Even if the flirting made her feel attractive and alive.
The woman practically choked. “No, he shouldn’t.”
“Annie? What are you doing here?” Montgomery emerged from a room and stalked toward her, not scowling in annoyance that she’d invaded his place of work but smiling in welcome.
Jerk.
I won’t give in. I’m still mad.
She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You told the mechanic to fix my car.”
“Because your brakes were toast.”
“And my muffler?”
“Doing the environment a favor.”
Smug bastard had an answer for everything. “It’s my car.”
“Yup. You can thank me later for helping you take care of it.”
“Thank you?” she sputtered. “I didn’t ask you to meddle in my affairs.”
“A good thing I did, though, given you needed someone to.”
“Stop it.” She shook her head at him. “I see what you’re doing.”
“Can we talk about this elsewhere?” He shot a look at the receptionist, who avidly watched and only missed a bucket of popcorn.
“I am not going anywhere alone with you. You are not going to kiss me stupid like you did this morning.” A kiss that had her seated in his car on the way to work before she could formulate a reason why she shouldn’t.
“Get in my office, or I will use any means necessary.” He pointed.
She lifted her chin. “Oh no you don’t. I just came to say butt out.”
“I think you came for another reason.”
“No, I didn’t.” She backed away as he stalked closer.
“You wanted to see me.”
“No, I didn’t.” She totally did.
“I wanted to see you, too.”
Panty-melter. She held firm. “I want nothing to do with you.”
He stood in front of her. “Have dinner with me.”
“What part of nothing to do with you did you not get?”
“You really want me to go away?” He arched a brow. “I will if you tell me that you don’t like me.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Say it. Say, ‘Reaper, I hate you.’”
“You’re being infantile, Mr. Montgomery.”
“You’re the one being childish by refusing to admit you’re attracted to me. Tell me how you feel, and I’ll go away.”
“I hate you,” she growled. Hated the fact that she wanted to have dinner with him and kiss him some more.
“Do you always give tongue to the people you hate?”
“I can’t get involved.”
“Why not?” He loomed closer.
The elevator door dinged, and she dove into the cab.
He followed.
There really wasn’t enough room.
“This is harassment,” she stated.
“It’s a public place.”
“Why are you so adamant about forcing something between us?”
“I’m not forcing shit. You’re attracted to me.”
“And? I’m also highly attracted to chocolate, but it doesn’t mean I give in every time I see a piece.”
“Would indulging be so bad?” He crowded closer. His body almost brushing hers.
The doors opened, and people got on board. Forcing them closer but stalling conversation.
They reached the lobby, but he blocked her exit. She shoved at his arm, but he wouldn’t budge, and the doors closed before the elevator moved again.
“That was my stop,” she hissed.
“No, it’s not, because my car is two levels down still.”
“I am not going anywhere with you.”
“Not even if I said I had news on the restaurant attack?”
It was that and nothing else that got her seated across from him in a chic little bistro.
Liar. She’d chosen it knowing full well the tables were small enough for their knees to touch.
She had to escape…before she did something stupid. Like kiss him.
Chapter Sixteen
Sitting across from Annie, Reaper could tell she wanted to run. For some reason, he discomfited her. Did she sense the killer inside him?
I won’t hurt you.
But he might hurt someone if she didn’t start talking and spilling the truth.
She stirred her drink with the straw, having listened to his news while they shared a plate of scallops and truffle oil fries.
“How come I haven’t heard about the shooter’s capture on the news?” she asked.
“They haven’t announced it to the press yet.”
“Yet you know,” Annie pointed out.
“I have friends.” A few greased palms in the right places
could yield a world of information. In this case, the fact that a crazy dude named Samuel Jenkerson of no fixed address was found wandering with a gun claiming that Satan told him to do it. When asked what he was asked to do, Samuel said, “Shoot the girl and her boyfriend.”
“So someone hired this Samuel guy to shoot someone. Sounds like a case of an ex-boyfriend gone crazy.”
Reaper fixed her with a stare. “Is that what it is? An ex who can’t let go?” Tell me who it is, Annie, and I’ll pulverize them.
“How would I know? This has nothing to do with me. Just a case of wrong time, wrong place.”
She lifted her drink to her lips and took a tiny sip of her Manhattan.
“The cops are still trying to figure out which couple Samuel was aiming for and who the gun belongs to. You sure no one has a grudge?”
“It wasn’t us.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” Reaper asked.
“My ex-boyfriend is dead. Boating accident.”
“I’m sorry.” Not really. It would be one less body to get rid of.
“He wasn’t a very good boyfriend, so it wasn’t a real tragedy.”
Which in and of itself was interesting. He’d not found police reports about abuse or questioning her on a tragedy either, which usually indicated it was an accident and that no one was a suspect.
“Where did you live before you moved here?” he asked.
“Lived here all my life.”
She lied. But how to confront her without admitting what he knew?
She’ll accuse me of stalking her. She wouldn’t be far from wrong.
The woman had become an obsession, and now everyone in the office knew it. Sherry had texted him, as had Harry. Everyone wanted to know who Annie was.
Mine.
“Why did you really come to find me?” Reaper asked.
“I told you, to get you to stop meddling in my affairs.”
“You could have called or texted.”
“I’m not afraid of doing things face-to-face.”
Brave words, yet she trembled. “What are you afraid of, Annie?”
She might have answered, except their waiter appeared with a tray. On it, a single white rose.
“For the lady,” the young guy said, offering it to Annie.
Her face blanched. “Did you do this?” She turned a stricken face on him.