CROSSED

by Karin Tabke

  “As if you didn’t know.” He moved slightly into her space. The air caught fire. “Who do you work for?” he softly demanded.

  Jax met his stare. “I’m an independent who’s down on her luck at the moment. So, I took on a little surveillance job. Info gathering on Senator Rowland.”

  “What kind of info gathering?”

  She shrugged. Her breasts rose, then fell, lightly scraping his chest. The contact for her was lightning striking. It was so fast, so unexpected and so damn explosive she had to catch the sharp hiss rising in her throat before it escaped, exposing her arousal. When she spoke, she couldn’t help that her voice had dropped several octaves. “The usual. Does he have a girlfriend, is his wife a closet lush, is his kid as sweet as she looks?”

  “You’re working for Mercer?”

  Jax snorted and moved back against the balustrade where it was safe. “I’m not that desperate. Yet. This is private money. They want to make sure when they invest in Team Rowland they aren’t going to lose their money because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”

  “Tell me about Tuturo.”

  “He’s dead.”

  He chuckled softly, deadly, slowly shaking his head, but his eyes glittered in good humor.

  “Who were the goons with you at the café?”

  She shrugged. “A couple of guys I hired for some muscle.”

  Again he slowly shook his head. “Tsk, tsk,” he chided, then moved closer into her space. “You are a beautiful liar. And a beautiful thief. I want my money. Now.”

  “You want your money?” she taunted.

  “For starters,” he said, his implication clear.

  She leaned back against the balustrade and rubbed her right foot along the inside of his left leg. “Feel that?”

  “Your shoe.”

  “Not just any shoe, a Jimmy Choo shoe. I told you, I spent the money.”

  He grasped her leg under her knee and jerked her hard against him. He slid his hand slowly up from her ankle to her knee, and then to her thigh, where he fingered the smooth leather sheath strapped there. She jerked hard to get away from him, but his strength was impregnable.

  “Who gave you Tuturo’s information? And why were you willing to kill him to get to me?”

  When she hesitated, he slid his big hand farther up her thigh and cupped the warmth between her thighs.

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” he growled.

  Her breath hitched high in her throat. Jesus. Christ.

  “Good,” she choked out. “Then I won’t have to tell you no twice.” She shimmied, shaking his hand down to a more modest place.

  He laughed, genuinely amused. The sound disturbed her. It made her imagine him happy, when she knew, because of where he came from, where he had been, and, sadly, where he was going, that Marcus Cross had found little happiness in life.

  “So you’re not only a beautiful thief and assassin, but one with a sense of humor. It’s not a trait most women possess, but one I like.”

  “I have traits men like you only dream about.”

  One hand gripped her hip punishingly. “Really?” He lowered his nose to the bend of her jaw and softly inhaled her scent. His body stiffened. “You want to know what I’ve dreamed of these last nights?”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “Of fucking you until I break you.”

  The image of them hot and sweaty, furiously fucking on a broken bed flashed in her mind’s eye. She could feel the thick heat of him pulse deep inside her. What hold did he have on her that she could feel him so intimatly?

  Tilting her head, she spoke directly into his ear. “Do you get off hurting women?”

  He chuckled again, the sound like warm brandy across the tongue. “Only the mouthy ones.”

  Feeling vulnerable to his charm, Jax turned the tables. “I’m your worst nightmare, Cross. I know what you are. I know who you work for.”

  “Tell me then. What do you think I am?”

  She hesitated. “You’re some kind of army experiment gone wrong with a fixation for blood.”

  His eyes narrowed, blasting her with such coldness that she involuntarily quivered. When he smiled, revealing brilliant white teeth with slightly elongated incisors, an unholy fear caught hold of Jax.

  “My God,” she whispered.

  His smile deepened. “I’m what horror novels and nightmares are made of,” he said as if he was proud of it.

  Jax swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down. “Are you telling me you’ re a . . . ?”

  “Vampire?”

  Jax nodded, for the first time in her life at a loss for words.

  “‘Vampire’ is such a tawdry term. It conjures up barbaric images.” His face tightened. “I’m light-years beyond barbaric.”

  “You kill for profit!” she blurted.

  He cocked a dark brow. “Look who’s calling the kettle black.”

  Shocked, unbelieving, believing? A myriad of thoughts pummeled her brain. Jax’s reasonable side scoffed at his admission, but in her gut? It sure as hell explained a lot. But seriously! A vampire? She mentally shook herself. She had seen— “How did you get to be what you are?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and,” he smiled showing his teeth, “I really don’t want to do that, if I don’t have to.”

  “But—”

  He raised a finger, pressing it to her lips. “Take the advance warning I’m offering you. Turn around and walk out of here.”

  Jax stiffened. She pushed away from his touch. Fear, skepticism, and determination wrestled for control.

  The fear of what Cross proclaimed to be was real. But for all that was holy, how could it be true? The skeptic in her refused to believe any of it. Vampire? Really? Puleese. So he was some kind of superhuman. And maybe he had some psychological blood condition and he thought he was a vampire . . . but Cross didn’t strike her as psychotic. Quite the opposite. He seemed perfectly in touch with reality. Which meant . . . he was telling her the truth?

  Despite the balmy temperature, Jax fought off a severe shiver. She quickly processed her worst-case scenario. Cross was a deadly vampire. He was stronger and faster, and had God only knew what other hidden powers. He was giving her fair warning: does she turn and walk away? Or see her mission through?

  Thick air pulsed between them. She swallowed hard and looked straight at him. Vampire or not, he and his friends were bad for business. Now, she’d see his hand, and hoped he didn’t call her bluff. “My intel, which is very reliable by the way, tells me your boss, Colonel Lazarus, for obvious reasons”—she nodded at Cross— “doesn’t like publicity. I have a friend or two at the Post. I could drop one of them a line and blow up you and your operation.”

  His laconic eyes never once wavered from hers. “And why would you want to do that?”

  “Leverage.”

  “For what?”

  “I told you, I like nice things.” She wiped all hesitancy from her expression and stared at him. “I’m good at what I do. I need a job. Bring me in.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, the sound dark, angry and, at its very core, painful. “Vampire or not, I could snap your neck right now.”

  Jax head-butted him. If the situation had not been so terrifying, she’d have laughed at his stunned expression. She shoved him hard with her right hand. With her left, she pulled the switchblade from the thigh sheath and pressed the razor-sharp tip to his throat. “You’d be dead right now.”

  He smiled that slow, laconic smile that made her think of very bad things. “Promise?”

  Her eyes widened. In a lightning-flash move, he knocked the knife from her hand and shoved her against the balustrade. His lips hovered inches above hers. “You’re good. But I’m better, and unless you’re as good as me, there’s no place for you in my world.”

  Instead of backing away, Jax pushed her face into his, so close she could lick his nose if she’d wanted to. “I’m your worst nightmare, Cross. I know all about y
ou and The Solution. Let me in, and I won’t expose you.”

  Instead of replying, he inhaled her scent, sighing as if he could smell her emotions.

  Jax fought for control. Not her sexual desire. That was not going to ebb. She fought her own self-control. She was losing ground on the dance floor. She was no longer leading.

  Lips parted, her breath coming in short, warm puffs, Jax stared up at him. His dark face hovered above hers. His hooded eyes had darkened to deep sapphire. She could smell his desire too. Her senses were on fire. So much so, she realized he had inadvertently given her an opening. This was a test of control. Whoever blinked first lost.

  She arched her back and raised up to capture his lips in a kiss. He stiffened but did not pull away. She smiled and pressed to him more intimately, forcing his lips apart. His body swelled against hers, but he did not reach out to touch her. Save for the kiss.

  She took her time, savoring him in a way that she had never savored a man. Swirling her tongue along his bottom lip, she nibbled there, then slid it along his top lip, gently flickering across his teeth. She felt the prick of his incisors. Fear, mixed then shaken with desire made for a heady cocktail. She didn’t stop. Didn’t want to. She was in control, she would not be the first to blink.

  But his body didn’t lie. She heard hard thud of his heartbeat in her ears. Heard the blood swoosh in his veins, feel the quickening of his body. Jax moaned, fascinated by this new heightened awareness. And, God help her, her fascination with him as a man and a—vampire.

  Her body grew impatient, wanting more. More she wasn’t willing to reach out for, but more she was willing to take if freely given. She closed her eyes and sighed against his lips, then viciously sunk her teeth into his bottom lip.

  He shuddered hard against her, felt his hands fist at her sides. Blood, warm and alive, touched her tongue, and like the first time she had tasted him, the high was immediate.

  In a moment of clarity, Jax understood this was their connection. Blood.

  What would happen to her if she took more of him? Would she become like him? Stronger? Deadlier?

  Lost and alone?

  She pulled away. He grabbed her face between his hands and hoarsely said against her lips, “Come with me. Now.”

  It was what she’d been waiting to hear, but she recoiled at the thought. Where would he take her? Would she find her way back? Suddenly, she knew that Godfather, her team members, maybe even God himself wouldn’t be able to pull her from the dark place Marcus would take her.

  “No,” she breathed. Never.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “As if,” she snorted, even as a part of her longed to believe him.

  Fool, she mocked herself.

  He laughed, the husky sound so sexy that it vibrated through her. He quirked a brow. “You don’t trust me?”

  Jax scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Do you really expect me to believe you’d leave your mark for a quickie?”

  “I can fuck you here,” he offered. Jax opened her mouth to tell him to take a hike. Before she could, his expression grew serious. “But it wasn’t what I had in mind for our first time together.”

  Her heart slammed hard against her rib cage, making it momentarily difficult to breathe. Looking into his eyes, she pondered his words. He didn’t strike her as the type of guy who thought out a first date. He was the kind that didn’t date. He took what he wanted, then once the thrill of it was gone, he discarded it. “How long,” she cautiously demanded, “has having sex with me been on your mind?”

  “Since the second you touched me at that gangbanger club in Chicago.”

  He grabbed the hem of her dress and, in slow fistfuls, pulled it up. Sweltering air swirled around her sensitive flesh. Jax shoved his hands away. She looked straight into his eyes and with as much conviction as she could, said,“Maybe I don’t want you.”

  He grinned, but behind the smile was a dark edge. He dug his thick fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head with his huge hand. He pulled her lips to him. His warm breath hovered between them. His crystalline eyes sparked in unfettered concupiscence. “You’re very good at a lot of things, lovely, but lying isn’t one of them.”

  Forcing his knee between her thighs, he pried her open. Jax stiffened. This had gone too far. Teasing Cross was one thing. Delivering was something altogether different.

  She was no one’s whore. Not even Godfather’s.

  Yet her body wanted to betray her.

  She felt the sharpness of his teeth trace against her tight lips. “Stop,” she commanded. He nipped her bottom lip. She choked back a cry of pain. She would show no weakness, even as the warm, coppery taste of their mingled blood terrified her.

  He broke his hold on her mouth. She hung limp in his arms, her resistance pushed to the max. His lips, warm and wet, traveled down her throat. His low moan as he dragged his teeth along the pulsing column of her throat made her want him inside her. Her body ached with exquisite pain. Her blood was hot—she could feel it, hear the loud whoosh of it course through her veins. His lips traveled lower to her breast.

  “Dear God,” she moaned, unable to stop him. Not wanting to.

  His dark head lifted and their gazes clashed. A drop of blood—hers or his, she did not know—glittered on his bottom lip. She licked it. He hissed in a deep breath and shoved her harder against the column.

  “Please,” Jax gasped, “don’t.” She knew she wasn’t making sense. That she was pushing him away with one hand while pulling him in with the other. She was doing her best to hold on to whatever vestige of control she had left. If he trespassed here, she knew she would not have the strength to stop him from going further.

  His grip tightened. His eyes narrowed, and she knew he would take what he wanted from her.

  “Let go of me,” she demanded.

  “You started this, now I’m going to finish it.”

  “There is no honor in your assault.”

  His fingers dug harshly into her skin, he retreated, only enough to press his forehead to her forehead. “I have no honor left.”

  The harsh reality of his words would have sent a lesser woman screaming from him, but Jax wasn’t a lesser woman. She allowed her tight muscles to loosen as a show of trust.

  “You mistake my declaration as some form of a truce.” He trailed his lips along her cheekbone, hovering just above her ear. “I have no intention of letting you go. You want this, too.”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not now.”

  “You lie!” he growled.

  Jax broke his grip with a quick upward karate chop and moved away from him. With several feet separating them, Jax stared at him. “Stop means stop, Cross, and I said stop.” She smiled when he scowled. “Besides, if I had my way with you out here, I’d lose interest in you. And right now, I’m enjoying the chase. That is, unless you’re willing to let me in? Let me into your world and you can have me right here, right now.”

  Deliberately, she turned her back on him, then bent down and picked up her knife, sheathed it and walked back to the balustrade and gazed out over the grounds.

  She waited for several silent heartbeats, wondering if he was actually going to leave.

  When his big body pressed against hers, she breathed out a sigh of relief. When he planted his big hands on either side of her on the railing, trapping her, she imagined being pressed beneath his big sinewy body. The breeze whipped against her face, cooler now but unable to cool the heat of her body or his. “I just told you, I have no honor, but you would take my word if I gave it to you?”

  She nodded. “There is honor among thieves. And we are both thieves of the highest order.”

  “You want into my world?” Cross asked. She nodded. He lowered his head and whispered against her ear. “Are you willing to sacrifice?”

  She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She was perched on the edge of an uncertain precipice. If she jumped, it might kill her. If she backed away, it most certainly would. Jax had
no other recourse but to close her eyes and take a leap of faith. “Yes.”

  “You will follow my orders to the letter.”

  Adrenaline surged into her system.

  This was it. She’d done it. Or was this a trap?

  She’d take the chance.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  He pressed his thighs against her. She felt his erection against her back. “Say it.”

  “Yes, I’ll follow your orders.”

  He ran his big hands slowly down her bare arms. They were warm and strong, but they left gooseflesh in their wake. He turned her around and pressed her into the column behind her and held her gaze.

  “Then, my lovely, my mark is your mark tonight.”

  Jax stiffened. “Who?”

  “Grace Rowland.”

  Shit! “I don’t kill children.”

  “Then I guess all bets are off.”

  “Bullshit! You told me you don’t kill children either! How can you demand from me what you yourself are not willing to do?”

  He smiled cryptically. “There are many things I demand that I refuse to do myself.”

  Jax considered his order. She could pull it off, make it look like Grace was dead, but that could get messy for the senator. Cross would find out soon enough that the girl was alive. But maybe by then Jax could have taken care of him and Lazarus.

  A sudden thought occurred to her. If he knew who Grace Rowland was to him, would he kill his own sister?

  Jax took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Have you met the Rowlands?”

  “Only the senator.”

  Jax nodded and extended her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Cross. I take out Grace Rowland tonight, then you immediately set up a meeting with the colonel, and introduce me as the acquisition of the century.”

  Cross took her hand into his, and slowly wrapped his long fingers around hers. The frisson of the contact, just like every other time she had touched him, sizzled and snapped. He pulled her toward him, knocking her off balance. “I want proof of death. Tonight. Then you’re coming with me.”

  Jax let go of his hand and pushed him off. “No can do. I have plans after work.”

  “Break them.” He turned and stalked away from her, slipping between the thick foliage that had shielded them from the gathered guests.