by Anna Hackett
“Go.” She pointed to the couch. “Sit. Let me finish without any distractions. Don’t look sexy. Don’t sound sexy.”
His smile widened.
“No,” she cried. “Go. I’m not looking at you.”
He sat on the couch, waiting and watching as she worked. He didn’t disturb her. He sent a text to Vander with info on the Daria-i-Noor and the Great Table diamond.
Shit, Saxon hoped this diamond they were looking for was just an ordinary hunk of carbon.
Once Gia was finished and had freshened up—which included a fresh coat of red, kiss-me-now lipstick—he led her out to his Bentley.
He zoomed down the street and found a parking space near the sports bar Vander had picked. When they walked in, they found the Locker Room packed. He moved in close behind her.
It was a big, open space with lots of wood and a friendly vibe. Screens lined one wall, showing lots of games. A row of pool tables was situated at the back. A sleek bar was packed with people, the bartenders hopping. The rest of the space was filled with comfy chairs grouped around low tables, or high tables with stools. One wall was decorated to look like a locker room, and covered in signed sports memorabilia.
“Nice place,” he said.
“I know. My firm’s doing PR for the place, and the owner’s planning to open more. The End Zone, the Press Box, and the Dugout.”
“Catchy.” They spotted Vander, Rome, Ace, Rhys, and Haven by some high tables not far from the pool tables. The men were all nursing beers. Haven waved.
Haven and Gia both claimed stools, heads together. Saxon ordered a beer, and a glass of wine for Gia.
Vander scowled. “I hope to hell this pink diamond is not from some priceless, mythical diamond.”
Saxon sipped his beer. “Me too.”
“I’ve got a contact who might know more.” Vander lifted his own beer. “I’ll see if they know anything about the Great Table diamond and diamonds that came from it.”
Saxon knew who Vander’s contact was. A guy from a covert, black-ops team that’s name was a whisper, and which completed missions that did not exist.
“I know a guy in Denver,” Rome said. “He’s a former SEAL, and runs security for archeological digs and expeditions. His father is a history professor.”
“Treasure Hunter Security?” Vander said.
“Yeah,” Rome said. “Dec’s a good guy. It’s a good outfit.”
Vander lifted his chin. “Ask him, but tell him to keep it quiet.”
A bunch of rowdy, drunk guys at the closest pool table started making a lot of noise and Saxon frowned. He saw one of them eyeing Haven and Gia. When the man took a step toward the women, Saxon shifted and shot the man a look.
The guy hastily turned away.
Satisfied, Saxon returned to his beer.
Easton arrived, yanking off his tie. “I’ve had back-to-back meetings, my new assistant is giving me high blood pressure, and I need a drink.”
Vander raised his brows.
“Met the assistant today,” Saxon said. “Firecracker.”
“I’m going to fire her as soon as I find a competent replacement. One who doesn’t ride me every second of the day.”
Saxon pressed his tongue to his teeth. “Sure you don’t want her to ride you in another way?”
Easton stiffened. “No.”
“Clue me in,” Vander said.
“Easton’s new assistant is a curvy, opinionated blonde.”
“She’s my employee,” Easton said stiffly. “Fuck, I need a Scotch.”
Saxon smiled. Gia and Haven were still talking, and Gia was waving her hands around. Even as a kid she’d always talked with her hands.
The rowdy drunks got even louder. Trouble was brewing. One of them pushed another guy.
Fuck. A fight broke out. Sloppy punches were thrown and then a guy slammed into a chair. Wood splintered.
Pandemonium ensued, others bellowing and joining the fight.
Vander cursed and set his beer down.
A man came barreling toward Vander. One punch from Vander and the man went down.
Some of the guy’s friends rushed Vander, and he calmly flexed his hands.
Then he fought.
Vander wasn’t flashy, but he was fast, brutal, and effective. He bent his knees and tossed a man. Then he spun and launched a hard side kick into another man’s gut.
Tables tipped over and customers screamed. Security guards pushed through the crowd.
“Oh, God, more drama for me to sort out,” Gia yelled. “My client will not be happy about this.”
“Incoming,” Rome murmured.
Sure enough, several guys were headed in their direction.
Haven and Gia watched, wild-eyed.
“Don’t move,” Saxon yelled at them.
A big guy came running at Saxon. Saxon ducked, then rammed an uppercut to the guy’s stomach. He groaned and doubled over.
When Saxon looked up, he saw Vander standing in the center of the room, unconscious or groaning men littered on the floor around him.
Saxon grinned and turned.
Then his stomach dropped away. Haven was on the ground, struggling onto her hands and knees.
There was no sign of Gia.
“Haven!” Saxon yelled.
She looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. “Someone knocked me over and took Gia!”
Fuck.
Chapter Nine
Gia tried to struggle, but the bruiser holding her was too big and strong. He held her with her back pressed to his front, one beefy arm wrapped around her as he maneuvered her out of the bar.
The place was in chaos. Lots of people were shoving to get out, so no one was paying them any attention.
She scowled. She should be afraid, but instead, she was pissed. When her brothers and Saxon found her missing…
Chaos would seem peaceful.
They exited the bar and the cool, night air hit her bare shoulders. The man dragged her down the street. For a second, his arm loosened, and she tried to shove away.
He yanked her back.
“Let me go!” she snapped.
He ignored her. He hadn’t said a word since he’d grabbed her. God, Gia hoped Haven was okay.
They stopped beside a large, black limo, and her captor opened the back door, and shoved her inside.
Gia looked up. A man in a suit sat comfortably on the long seat. He wasn’t much older than her. He was attractive enough, but there was nothing special about him. He had thick, brown hair, and a bland, handsome face.
“So, you’re Gia Norcross,” the man said.
“And you’re in a lot of trouble.” She pointed out the tinted window toward the bar. “My brothers and my…man are in there, and when I say they won’t be happy—”
The man held up his hand. “I know. It cost me a pretty penny to organize the fight.”
Her stomach dipped. To distract them.
“I just want to talk to you,” the man said.
“You’re Dennett.”
He smiled. “Kyle.” He held out a hand.
She didn’t take it.
“I want my belongings back,” he said, like they were friends chatting about the weather.
“And as has been communicated to you, I don’t have them. I don’t know who does.” She avoided mentioning the pink diamond.
A frown crossed his face. “I need Willow.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“But she comes to you when she needs things. Willow is a user.”
And he was an asshole.
He cocked his head. “You’re not what I expected. I expected a strung-out junkie, with fading looks like Willow.” He reached out to touch Gia’s hair. “You’re very attractive.”
She knocked his hand away. “I don’t have the gems, and I have no idea where Willow has run off to. Leave me out of this.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a very nice one. “I don’t like failing, Gia. I don’t like losing money, or being made a fool of by a
junkie whore.”
Charming. “Nothing. To. Do. With. Me.”
“She’ll come slinking back to you at some stage. You’re the only person in her life who hasn’t cut her off.”
Gia’s belly clenched. That made her sad for both herself and Willow. She tossed her hair back. “Look, I’m done with this. My apartment was trashed. Your fucking henchman has a vendetta.”
Dennett leaned back in his seat. “Lex came highly recommended, but he’s been a disappointment.”
“Well, he’s an asshole as well. I’m getting out now—” She reached for the door handle.
Dennett grabbed her arm, quick as a snake. “I don’t think so.”
Suddenly, the door was yanked open. Saxon’s icily enraged face appeared.
He grabbed Gia’s other wrist, and she found herself caught in a tug-of-war between two very dangerous men.
She glanced past Saxon and saw Dennett’s thug laid out on the pavement, unconscious.
“Let her go,” Saxon said.
The lethal tone made Gia swallow.
“I want my gems, Buchanan,” Dennett snapped.
“So, find them. Gia doesn’t have them, and she no longer exists for you.”
“She’s my best lead to finding them.”
“Find another way, or you will deal with me and all of Norcross Security. Vander has already warned you off. He’s not a man who likes repeating himself.”
Dennett just stared at Saxon, still holding Gia’s wrist.
Ugh, she didn’t want him touching her at all. What the hell was he waiting for?
All of a sudden, a man appeared behind Saxon, and pressed a gun to Saxon’s head.
Gia gasped, fear hot and oily inside her.
Dennett smiled. He looked smug. He’d been stalling, waiting for his other goon to appear.
Saxon’s face didn’t change. He showed no concern or worry. “You really want to do this the hard way?”
“Saxon—” Gia’s stomach contracted to a tight ball. All she could see was that gun barrel pressed to his temple. He could get hurt. That thought drove the air out of her lungs.
Saxon moved like lightning. He jabbed an elbow back, and Dennett’s man grunted. The gun went off, but Saxon was a whirl of movement. Two punches and a kick, and Dennett’s thug was in the fetal position on the sidewalk.
Bending down, Saxon grabbed the man’s handgun.
It all happened so fast that Gia hadn’t had time to move or scream.
“Oh, my God.” Gia tried not to hyperventilate. “Are you okay?”
Saxon just glared at Dennett.
Then Dennett’s door was yanked open, and a pissed-off Vander stood there, Glock in hand. “I told you that Gia does not exist for you.”
Oh, hell. Gia hated when Vander entered the “scary iceman” zone. She loved him to pieces, but he still sometimes made her want to wet herself in fear.
Dennett paled, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow. “I just wanted to talk to her.”
“Liar,” she spat.
Saxon pulled her out of the limo. She heard sirens, and saw a police cruiser pull up in front of the Locker Room.
Well, looking on the bright side, at least her client was getting some free press.
“Go now, Dennett,” Vander said. “If I see you near my sister again, I will personally make you regret it.”
“Norcross—”
“Go. Before I change my mind.”
Gia started shaking, and Saxon pulled her against his chest. She watched as the limo slid away and wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight.
“Haven?” she asked.
“She’s fine. With Rhys.”
Gia moved her hand up his sleeve and felt something wet and sticky. She frowned. “Saxon?” She lifted her hand.
Blood.
Every rational thought flew out of her head. “Oh, my God, you got shot!”
Vander’s head snapped up.
“Creased my arm,” Saxon said. “It’s fine.”
“You got shot!” Gia’s voice raised to a shout.
“Gia, don’t lose it,” Saxon said.
“Too late. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“I’m not fucking going to the hospital.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are.”
“I am not.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Saxon Buchanan, you stubborn, pigheaded—”
“I’ll clean it up at home. I have a well-stocked first aid kit. We all do.”
Vander glanced at Saxon’s arm, then nodded.
Gia threw her hands in the air. “Macho badasses. I’ll clean it up.”
He’d gotten shot. For her. A confusing mix of emotions churned inside her.
Watching her, his face softened. “Okay, Contessa.”
She smiled back, then saw Vander eyeing them curiously.
“Right,” Gia said. “I need to check on Haven, and find my handbag. Then you can call me Nurse Norcross.”
Something hot sparked in Saxon’s eye.
Fucking Dennett had taken Gia. Had put his hands on her.
Saxon tugged Gia out of the bar. She had her bag, and she’d said her goodbyes to Haven and her brothers. Vander was somewhere, talking to the police.
Saxon’s arm stung, but he knew it wasn’t bad. He’d had bad when he’d been in Ghost Ops. He’d bled all over numerous dusty deserts. Once, he almost hadn’t made it home.
Rhys and Vander, and the rest of their team, had risked their asses to save him.
“Saxon, are you sure you’re okay?” Gia’s brown eyes were filled with worry. For him.
“I’ll be happy once you’re off the street.”
“I meant your arm.”
“I told you, it’s fine.”
She was surprisingly quiet for a moment.
They stopped by his Bentley. Saxon turned to look fully at her. “Are you all right?”
She gave a little nod. “I’ve decided to postpone losing my shit. I hated being with Dennett.” She shuddered. “I don’t know how many ways I can tell him I don’t have his gems. Anyway, I was scared, but angry won out.” Her voice lowered. “I was more scared when I realized you’d been shot.”
Saxon moved close, and she pressed her hands to his chest.
“I’m okay,” he reassured her. “Alive and breathing.”
She moved her hand right over his heart. “I really don’t like you being shot.”
“I’m not a fan of it, myself.”
“Can you avoid it in the future?”
He smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
Then he lowered his head. This kiss was slower and deeper than their previous ones. He savored the taste of her, flavored by wine. She filled him with a sharp, gnawing need for her.
“What the fuck?”
The sharp voice made them both jerk apart.
Saxon spotted Vander standing nearby, hands on his hips. He was glaring at them, furious and incredulous.
“Vander—” Gia said.
“That’s my fucking sister,” Vander bit out.
“I know,” Saxon replied.
“You’re a brother to me. I trusted you.”
Gia moved, but Saxon held her in place.
He’d fucked up. He knew he should’ve made time to talk with Vander earlier.
“You pick up and discard women all the time,” Vander said. “You put more effort into your suits than you do women.”
Gia jerked.
“You never get in deep, and you never let them in,” Vander continued.
Saxon stiffened, disliking the ugly feeling moving through him. “You saying I’m not good enough for her?”
“I’m saying that when you’re done, you’ll break her fucking heart, and then I’ll have to kill you.”
“Vander,” Gia snapped. “We’re—”
“Get in the car, Gia,” Saxon said.
Her enraged gaze swung to him. “Excuse me?”
“This is between me and Vander. Get in the car.
” He paused. “Please.”
She hesitated, then huffed out a breath. “You testosterone-addled idiots.” She yanked open the passenger door of the Bentley. “Who I fuck is my concern, Vander.”
Her brother gave the tiniest flinch. “You shouldn’t have gone there with him. This fucks everything up for all of us.”
“You don’t get a vote,” she said. “My love life is not a democracy.” She got in the car and slammed the door hard enough to set the Bentley rocking.
“This wasn’t a snap decision.” Saxon raised a hand, shoved it through his hair. “Seeing her in danger—”
“You thought you’d move in while she was vulnerable and upset?”
“No,” Saxon insisted.
Vander pointed a finger right at Saxon. “I’m too fucking pissed with you right now. Fair warning, I’m going to kick your ass.” He swiveled and strode off.
Saxon exhaled loudly. That didn’t go well. The bad taste in his mouth intensified. Vander was his best friend. He hated this.
But Gia was his.
He wasn’t letting anyone get between them. Even Vander, and especially Gia.
He slid into the driver’s seat. Gia sat fuming, staring straight ahead. He put the car in gear and pulled out. He drove to his place and into his underground garage.
“I don’t have any clean clothes with me,” she said.
“I’ll loan you a shirt to sleep in. I’ll take you back to your place early tomorrow to change before work.”
She nodded. “Is everything okay with Vander?”
Saxon turned the engine off. “No.”
She blew out a breath. “I don’t understand all this alpha-male bullshit.”
“Because you don’t have the right equipment.”
She shot him a withering look. “Maybe because I have a brain and use it.”
Saxon smiled and shifted in his seat, but that made his wound twinge and he winced.
Gia noticed. “Come on. We need to get that cleaned up.”
They walked up the stairs, and in the entry, he flicked on some lights.
She sighed, looking around. “I really love your house.”
They moved up the staircase, and Saxon was hit with the realization that he’d picked a lot of stuff for the house knowing that Gia would like it. He slowed his steps. Shit. Had he unconsciously picked and decorated this house for Gia? Fuck.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” she asked.