by Cynthia Eden
This was the part that burned him. “You were his partner. No one worked more closely with him than you did.” So if anyone would have known about Gary’s true nature, it would have been her.
She paled as she stared up at him. “You were the one who partnered us. I didn’t know him until I got the assignment. I had no idea the guy was-was taking hits!”
He wanted to believe her and because of that, he had to make absolutely sure he showed no weakness. “You’re being investigated.” She would have already figured that part out on her own. “The FBI Brass is on a witch hunt right now, looking to take down anyone who might have been working with Gary.” And that was the fear. That there were others like him embedded in the FBI. “Your life is about to be torn apart, Tracy. Every secret that you have will be brought right out into the hard light of day.”
She pulled away from him. Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t have secrets. I’m a good FBI agent.”
It almost sounded like a mantra that she had to repeat.
He walked to the small table. Pulled out a chair and settled down. “We’ll see about that…”
Anger flashed in her eyes. Anger…and fear.
His back teeth ground together. If she’d betrayed him, then he’d make certain she paid.
“Is…is Gary still alive?”
He just stared back at her.
“Because if he is, then he can tell you I wasn’t working with him,” Tracy said quickly. “Just ask him. Just—”
“He’s in critical condition at the hospital right now.” Because Saxon had wanted to destroy that SOB. The guy hadn’t exactly been playing nicely. When your life was on the line—or the life of someone you cared about—nice didn’t enter the equation. “He’s not exactly able to talk right now.”
With slow, shuffling footsteps, she made her way to the table and slid into her chair. “I’ve never been on this side of the table.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t like it.” A hoarse confession.
He flattened his hands on that old table top. There was nothing about this that he liked. “Gary tried to kill me last night. You were his partner. You are his partner, so if anyone was involved in this tangled hell with him, it would be you.”
That was the story the higher-ups at the FBI were spinning.
But Tracy shook her head. “It’s not me.” Her hand flew across the table and grabbed his wrist. She leaned forward and her voice lowered. “Vic, you know me. Inside and out.”
Fuck. She would bring up that night. One time.
“I wouldn’t do this.”
He stared back at her. This conversation was being recorded so he might as well put all the cards on the table. “We had sex once, before you came on board with my team.”
She flushed and glanced toward the one-way mirror.
“So I know you physically, yes, but that won’t have one bit of bearing on my investigation.”
Her hand pulled away.
He gave her a grim smile. There was no room for emotion, not when lives were on the line. Not when Saxon had come so close to death. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”
She blinked quickly, as if trying to banish tears. “Vic…”
It was a good thing he was used to playing the role of the cold-blooded bastard. “No secrets, Tracy,” he told her, voice curt. “And no lies.”
Because no one hurt his brother and walked away. No one.
Chapter Ten
My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Elizabeth locked her knees and silently repeated that little mantra to herself one more time.
My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Two weeks had passed since she’d lost her life—and that was how she thought of it. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Elizabeth Ward was gone. Vanished. Victor had whisked her away. He’d gotten her out of the police station in Miami and stayed with her even while a US Marshall came to explain the whole Witness Protection Program thing to her.
After the US Marshall had appeared, she’d expected Victor to dump her and walk away…but he’d stayed. Told her that he was handling things personally with her. Since she’d been barely holding her shit together, she’d been grateful to have him at her side. Victor had lingered while she was transferred and, finally, settled along the California Coast.
Wine country. Victor had put her in wine country, and it truly was a beautiful place. Nestled far from the hustle and bustle of the city, the whole area seemed like some kind of oasis to her. When she stared outside of her little cottage, she just saw miles and miles of rolling green space.
No big buildings. No traffic jams that stretched for miles.
Peace. Beauty.
If it weren’t for the fact that she still felt like her heart had been ripped out, she’d almost be happy there.
Saxon. He was the one thing she missed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him out of her head. Or her heart.
“Ms. Meadows?” A feminine voice queried, sounding slightly annoyed.
Crap. That’s me. Elizabeth jumped to her feet. She was at the winery because this place…it was supposed to be her new job site. Victor and his Witness Protection buddies had lined up the position for her. She was there to meet her new boss, and she was already screwing things up before she’d even set her eyes on the man.
The redhead was standing by an office door, with a faint frown on her face.
“Sorry,” Elizabeth mumbled as she hurried past her and into the office. “I didn’t…hear you.”
“The four times I called your name?” The woman’s lips curved in a faint smile that wasn’t cruel, but sweetly kind. “Sometimes nervousness can do that to you.”
Her cheeks stained. It’s not my name, okay? I’m still getting used to it. But, yes, she was so nervous her whole body was shaking.
Before Elizabeth could say anything else, the redhead backed away and pulled the door shut. The click of that door closing sure seemed overly loud in that office—and what a plush office it was. She could smell leather in that place and those floor to ceiling windows on the right were amazing. Talk about a killer view. Insanely gorgeous and—
Where’s my new boss?
Because she was standing in an empty office.
Elizabeth inched a bit closer to the big, mahogany desk. She was supposed to be meeting with a Mr. Laurent. Only he wasn’t there and—
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice came from behind her and it was a voice that froze her. Deep, dark, seeming to completely overwhelm her because it was his voice.
Saxon.
She wanted to whirl around, but her body had shut down and she couldn’t move at all. It’s not him. Saxon isn’t here. I’m meeting with a Michael Laurent. I want to hear Saxon’s voice so badly that I’m imagining it.
The floor creaked beneath his footsteps.
“Mr. Laurent.” Her voice trembled and she hated that. Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’m—”
“I know exactly who you are.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. His voice. I’d know his voice anywhere. After all, she heard it every night in her dreams.
“Look at me.”
She didn’t want to. Because then she might see that he wasn’t Saxon.
He touched her, and a gasp slipped from her because she knew his touch so well. His fingers had curled around her shoulder, and when she looked down, she could see the faint scars that lined his knuckles.
“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth whispered.
“Protecting you.”
Those words pierced right through her. They also terrified her. “I almost got you killed before. I don’t want you risking anything else for me, do you understand?”
Silence was his answer, but his fingers tightened on her shoulder.
“Victor said you were dead to me.” Did he know how much that had cut her up? No, probably not. Because this wild tangle of emotions was all just on her side. Get your control, woman!
&
nbsp; “I am.”
Then she had to jerk out of his hold. She tried to take a few fast and frantic steps away from him, but Saxon caught her. He spun her around and yanked her right back up against him.
“Make no mistake,” he told her, his voice a hard growl, “Saxon Black is dead. Saxon Black, Saxon Marshall, Saxon Smith…every fucking alias I used when I was undercover with the FBI—they’re all dead.”
His body was pressed tightly to hers. She could feel his muscles, his strength. There was no sign of pain on his face. But the last time she’d seen him, Saxon had barely been clinging to life.
Because of me.
“You already know I was working my last case for Vic down in Miami. I was set to start a new life,” he told her. “This life. I picked the place. I planned for years. Hell, I bought this place with the money I earned working jobs you don’t ever want to know about.”
The winery was his? She shook her head. “They sent me here—”
“Vic sent you to me.” His gaze was so dark as it spread over her face and that was when she realized—
He’s different.
It wasn’t just the suit he wore, one that looked as if it had been custom made for his muscled frame. Or the new cut of his hair—a cut that swept back his thick hair—hair that appeared so much darker now. The new style and darkness somehow made his face look less rough and dangerous, and more sensual, elegant.
When she stared up at him, she wasn’t seeing the deadly lover who’d saved her before in Miami. She wasn’t really sure who she was seeing at all.
Michael Laurent?
He’d just rattled off too many other aliases for her. The guy had spent his life undercover. Who was he, really?
And did it even matter?
Because right then, she was so freaking happy—she threw her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could. Tears wanted to fall from her eyes, but Elizabeth blinked them away. “I was so afraid you’d die.” She would never forget those terrifying moments on that chopper. She squeezed him even tighter. “Oh, God, I was scared—”
And he was kissing her. Kissing her hard and deep and wild. Kissing her like Saxon—her Saxon. He lifted her up against him, held her easily, and the tight band around her heart—the band she’d carried for two, long weeks—finally seemed to ease.
Her hands were around his neck. His hands were on her hips. He was walking with her in his grasp, still kissing her, still driving that wonderful tongue of his into her mouth, and she wanted to devour him right then and there. She. Wanted. Him.
Saxon put her on the desk. Shoved paperwork aside and pushed right between her legs. The skirt she’d been wearing hiked up, and his hands—those rough, callused hands—curled around her thighs.
“Fucking missed you…” he rasped against her mouth. “Missed…fucking…you…” His right hand rose and curled around the crotch of her panties.
It felt like everything was moving at super speed, one hundred miles an hour—two hundred—and she didn’t care.
Saxon. Saxon!
He ripped her panties out of the way. Tossed them aside. Then his fingers were pushing into her sex.
Her hands slammed down behind her on the desk. Her head tipped back as she tried to gulp in some desperately needed air. Her heart was thudding in her chest and her sex—it was closing greedily around his fingers.
His thumb pressed to her clit. Stroking her so perfectly. One night, but he’d learned her body’s secrets. He knew exactly what to do in order to make her—
“Not yet, baby,” he said as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her throat. “I need to taste you first. All of you.”
Then he was on his knees before her. His hands pulled her to the edge of the desk. Her skirt was up high, exposing her fully to him. Saxon glanced up at her. Licked his lips. Then he put his mouth on her sex. No hesitation. Just taking. With his tongue and his mouth and his fingers.
Pleasure hit her, slamming through her whole body as the orgasm rolled over her and had her gasping his name—and pressing her sex even closer to him.
The contractions of her sex wouldn’t stop. The pleasure wouldn’t end and he was rising. Unzipping his pants. Positioning his cock and then driving hard into her.
Her breath caught at that deep plunge. And time finally just—stopped.
No more super speed. There was only stillness. A moment frozen as she stared into his eyes. Elizabeth saw the need, the dark, fierce passion reflected in his stare.
He bent his head and kissed her. Her hands rose and curled around his shoulders even as her legs locked around his hips. She wanted to hold him as tightly as she could. To never let go.
The pleasure hadn’t ended, and when he started thrusting, moving in a rhythm that was hard and demanding, a moan pulled from her lips. Her sex was swollen and sensitive, and every movement of his body had her aching.
He was kissing her neck again. Kissing that spot along the column of her throat that made her quiver.
“Couldn’t…let you go…” Another hard thrust. “Fucking…couldn’t…” And, if possible, he got even bigger inside of her. He’d stretched her so much that there should have been pain, but there was only pleasure.
Only Saxon.
He withdrew, plunged deep, and she opened her mouth to scream because the release was that violent.
“Bite me,” he ordered her. “Now.”
And instead of screaming, she found her cry muffled against his shoulder.
Then she felt him coming inside of her. Hot jets that told her—
“Saxon?” Her head lifted.
His eyes were a burning darkness. So complete and total. “Mine,” he whispered.
He kissed her once more.
***
It wasn’t the first time that Victor had been in a maximum security lockup. And he knew it wouldn’t be the last either.
He sat at the narrow table, his hands in front of him, no weapon at his side, and he waited for Luther Bates to make his grand entrance into the room. He knew the devil would want a deal. There was no way the guy would just smile and say, “Sure, buddy, I’ll call off the hit. The woman will be free and clear. No problem.”
Because shit like that just didn’t happen in Victor’s world.
There were only two good things in Victor’s world…those were his two friends. His only family. Jasmine and Saxon. He’d do anything for them.
And that’s why the hell I’m here. Saxon wants the hit taken off Elizabeth, so I’m going to make a deal with the devil.
The door opened. The prisoner shuffled in, moving very slowly because his hands and feet were shackled. The garish orange garb he wore made Luther Bates look even paler…or maybe that pallor was due to the fact that the guy was being kept in solitary confinement for twenty-three hours a day.
Luther had used a shiv on a guy one week before. Even in prison, he still had to be a bad ass.
“What the fuck do you want?” Luther demanded.
There was a guard at his side.
“A few minutes of your time,” Victor murmured, “and by the way, you’re welcome for the little break from solitaire.”
The guard pulled out a chair for Luther. The fellow didn’t shove the prisoner down. If anything, he was too solicitous as he seated Luther. A quick glance showed Victor that there was plenty of fear in the guy’s eyes. Right. The fellow would know that Luther’s reach went far beyond the prison walls.
“I don’t know you,” Luther said as his beady eyes swept over Victor. “And trust me, asshole, you don’t want me as an enemy.”
Victor pulled out his FBI identification and put it on the table.
Luther frowned then said, “Oh, so I guess you’re already my fucking enemy.” His face twisted with disgust. “Like I don’t have enough of you dumbasses breathing down my neck every single day—”
“Maryann Ward.” Deliberately, he threw out the name of Elizabeth’s mother.
Luther’s eyes narrowed. “Why are we talking about t
he dead?”
“Because you took out a hit on her.”
The guard shuffled back a few feet.
Luther glanced at the guard, then turned his suddenly sly stare back on Victor. “I think you’ve got some bad information, Mr. FBI Agent.”
It was Victor’s turn to look at the guard. “Leave us alone.”
“I-I’m not supposed to—”
“I’m an FBI Special Agent. The prisoner is shackled. You don’t have anything to worry about.” Victor pointed to the door. “Stay right on the other side, if that makes you feel better.”
The guard was sweating. And wavering.
“Go,” Luther growled.
The guard scrambled to obey. When the door clanged shut behind the man, Luther sighed. “We’re lucky the kid didn’t just shit his pants.”
“He’s terrified of you.”
Luther grunted. “Yeah, cause he’s smart. He should be scared.” Luther paused and his green stare swept over Victor. “And you should be scared, too.” He leaned forward and looked at the ID that was still on the table. “Agent Monroe.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
Luther cocked his head as he studied Victor. “How long you been with the FBI?”
“Long enough.” Victor wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated. “Maryann Ward,” he said again.
“That woman was a lying bitch. Made me think she wanted me, gave me some bull about finally leaving her husband and running away with me.” Anger flashed on his face. “I trusted her with all my secrets, and she betrayed me.” His shackles rattled. “I don’t take any betrayal, not from anybody.”
“Is that why you put out the hit on Maryann and her family? To pay them back for the betrayal?”
Luther smiled, and it was a chilling sight, “I don’t know anything about a hit.”
Yes, he did. “That hit is still in place,” Victor said, using all his self-control to keep his voice flat and emotionless as he leaned forward. “A kill order went out on Maryann Ward, on Stan Ward, and on their daughter, Elizabeth.”
Because he was watching Luther so closely, Victor saw the guy’s eyelids flicker, just a bit.