She heard the splash behind her and never glanced back. She swam freestyle until she reached the breaking point of the low-tide waves. That’s when she dipped underwater and lost herself in one stroke after another. Heading right, she hoped Jeff would keep swimming straight or hedge to the left.
Seconds later, she came up for air. A hand closed around her foot.
“Let me go!” she screamed, gasping for air. Breathless from the exercise, she fought back, trying to break free.
“Relax! I’m not going to hurt you.”
“The hell you aren’t!” she screamed, thinking Jeff underestimated her. After their initial meeting, she’d done her homework. Adam’s team seemed to know so much about her, and from what she’d gathered from Callan, Jeff was to blame. He must’ve established inside connections the rest of them didn’t have. He’d done his research. Well, so had she!
Over the past few weeks, Paige called in favors from some of her father’s old contacts. She’d discovered harrowing tales about Jeff Jacobsen. He was considered a heartless operative, a loose screw, a man who followed his own rules and didn’t have a soul or a conscience to speak of.
“I said let me go!” She somehow kicked him and wiggled free at the same time while he tried to protect his lower body. She made a clean break, but much to her surprise, Jeff was a strong swimmer.
When he bracketed his arms around her hips and pulled her against his chest, he hissed, “This is ridiculous. You will calm down, or I’ll yank your shorts down and fuck you where we stand.”
She gulped. How many times had she heard Ramone threaten similar things? How often had she run only to have Ramone’s men haul her back to him again? And why the hell did she find Jeff’s threat so arousing?
“That’s my good girl,” Jeff said, stroking her head. “Now, let’s get you back on the sand so we can lay down some ground rules.”
He used one arm to carry her, refusing to let her go. She went limp against his body, tired of the struggle and worn out from the strenuous exercise. Her labored breathing and the lapping of waves were the only sounds in the air, producing an erotic conflicting melody.
When they finally made it to ankle-deep waters, he released her. “Walk,” he ordered her, pointing toward the beach.
“I don’t have to do what you tell me,” she blurted out, feeling like a child defying authority. Her breasts bounced heavily enough to remind her she was topless. She didn’t give a damn.
Jeff seemed unaffected. He didn’t stare at her chest. Instead, he gritted his teeth and looked her in the eye. “I really don’t care if you go willingly or with great resistance, but let me explain something to you.”
He struggled to speak, still catching his breath. When he finally squared his shoulders, he pointed his finger directly in her face, and said, “I’m not Adam. I’m sure as hell not Callan or Miles. You may have all of them running around with their noses tilted in the air, waiting for that mating call, but not me. I’m not interested. I’m here to do a job. If I receive the order to snap you’re pretty little neck, I’ll listen to the pop and consider it a job done. Are we clear?”
Paige glared at her captor. He was the epitome of a hard man, all right, but he wasn’t as tough as he wanted her to believe. So he was better than the men he worked beside. He could keep up with her. He liked the chase, too, the challenge. That’s what got him going. He was, in many ways, like her—an adrenaline junkie.
“You’re lying,” she said finally, walking behind him.
“You think so?” He stopped abruptly, and she walked right into his bare back. A masculine sound escaped his lips, and he jerked.
She immediately backed off, covering her breasts with her hands. “Yes,” she said, taking another effort at a steady breath. “Your eye twitched when you said you could snap my neck. You might have been able to do that when we first met, but…”
“But what?” he asked, turning around and stepping into her.
Rather than push the right buttons in the wrong man, she said, “How can you keep up with me when the others can’t? I don’t see you overexerting yourself with daily exercise routines.”
He started walking. A few steps down the beach, he retrieved his shirt and shoes. At that point, he looked at her. Paige believed it was a telling moment. Jeff Jacobsen finally saw her as more than an obstacle and far more than an ever-present threat. He undoubtedly saw her as a woman, and maybe even his equal.
* * * *
He felt like he’d just laid eyes on her for the first time. He started at her chin, noticing the way the dark brown hair curved under her jaw, a lock of hair so delicate but there nonetheless, like it was clinging for dear life. Was that what Paige was doing? Was she frightened? Was she running scared?
His gaze traveled down her long, slender neck. He admired how she held her head high, the structure of her slender collarbone leading to a bare chest with plenty for a man to enjoy. Before he indulged too much, Paige knelt down and retrieved her clothes, shrugging into a sports bra, one she had to yank over those full mounds in order to secure them.
Damn. She was right. Snapping that neck of hers would be a terrible waste.
That’s when his mouth watered. Why hadn’t he gawked when she’d been topless? And why did he find her sexy as all fucking hell right then?
Her flat stomach made him itch. He’d love to kiss around her sunken belly button and insinuate a slow sex act, make her arch for him, beg him for more.
Finally, he studied the band of her shorts. What he’d give to lick and tease his way a little lower, strip away those spandex and show her what she’d been missing. Maybe in her body, he’d find what he’d been looking for all along. Perhaps he needed to fuck a woman he wasn’t later expected to kill. Then again, he couldn’t be so sure that order wouldn’t come.
Stop thinking!
“Is something wrong?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
“No,” he replied, storming ahead of her. Suddenly, he wondered why she followed him then when she hadn’t trailed behind him before. He stopped, turned around, and shook his finger again. “Don’t you dare run. I’d like to have breakfast before we do that again.”
“Okay,” she agreed, catching up and walking beside him. “Want to answer my question now?”
“Which one?”
“How can you keep up with me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he growled.
“I’m asking.”
“I’m in great shape.”
“I can tell.”
Jeff stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Is that you coming on to me?”
She sashayed by him. “No, Jeff. That was me trying to figure out how I can outrun you next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” he told her, grabbing her from behind and slamming her against the steps, bracing her back with his large hands.
His breath matched hers. The move knocked the wind out of both of them.
“Now what?”
“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said, thinking he wouldn’t put up much of a fight if she laid one on him.
She moistened her lips. “I didn’t think so,” she whispered, arching her neck. “What if I kiss you?”
“Is that what you’re planning to do? You have the rest of these guys by the balls, and since I’m not turning tricks to taste the pudding, what ’cha gonna do, darlin’, offer me a spoon?”
“I don’t understand your riddles,” she stated flatly, licking those full, enticing lips once more.
“Let me give you a warning. I’m the real thing, sweetheart. I’m in JekyllIsland to work. It’s something all of us do very well when we don’t have a distraction. Now, since I’ve been assigned to you for the time being, I’m setting you straight. You’ll do what I tell you, and you’ll do it with a wide smile to boot. Understand?”
“Or you’ll what?”
“I told you what I’d do. If you want to see how much I enjoy skinny-dipping, pull one of your stunts again. I’ll drag
you into that ocean and make sure every tourist within ten miles hears you when you scream.”
“I already heard the guys talking. You wouldn’t rape me,” she said, narrowing her gaze and proving then that she wasn’t so sure.
“Rape? Hell, no. You’ll respond to me like a bitch in heat. I have a way about me.”
“Really? Who would’ve thought?” she asked diabolically, moving her lips to his ear. “Who can I ask to verify this? Hmm? Have you left any of your past lovers alive? Because if you have, I’d love to give them a call and invite them to join me for tea.”
When she marched away from him, her eyes lowered and she set her jaw. He swallowed once, wondering what she’d found out about him, contemplating whether or not she’d discovered more about his past than the fellows on his team.
No, she was bluffing, grabbing at straws. Wasn’t she? Sure, that must have been the case. How could she know every woman he’d ever had in his bed had been a target? Well, without survivors around to confirm her theory, there was just no way.
* * * *
“I need to go to the store,” she announced later that afternoon.
“Go see Connor,” Jeff told her, refusing to jump like Miles and Callan did when they were assigned to her detail.
“He’s on a conference call.”
“Talk to Adam.”
“He said I belong to you now.”
Jeff stood and approached her with a little too much swagger for her liking. “Is that what he told you?”
“Yes,” she said, thumbing through her wallet to make sure she had enough cash to cover her shopping list.
His gaze roamed over her. Her nerve endings felt like someone held each one to an independent shock. Immediately, her head jerked.
“Well, since you belong to me,” he teased, “let’s go.”
They were met by Adam, Connor, Miles, and Callan. Adam’s cheeks were blood-red with splotches right in the center.
“What’s up?” Jeff asked.
“We’ve got a lead on Ramone,” Adam replied.
Her heart started beating faster and faster. “Is he here?” she finally managed.
“Yes, Paige, he’s here.”
“Is he coming for me?” she asked, gasping.
“Why are you acting like that frightens you all of a sudden?” Jeff asked, visibly annoyed. “Betty Badass having second thoughts about facing the enemy?”
“She’s not surprised. She’s known Ramone’s precise whereabouts all along, haven’t you, Paige?” Miles asked. “Tell them.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam asked.
“Let me show you something,” Miles said, walking downstairs toward the foyer. They all followed him. He stopped in front of Paige’s favorite Glynda Turley Old Mill painting.
She swallowed, ducked her head for a second, and eyed the release lever clearly visible under the small credenza in front of the painting.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Miles asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Fine,” Miles said, showing a side she’d never suspected in his personality. He pulled out a pocketknife. “Since I’m confident of what I’ll find, what do you say I cut open this painting, huh?”
“Don’t, please,” she said, walking over to the credenza. “You’ve already seen what’s behind here. The lever is pointed up instead of to the side.” She reached under the large piece of furniture and released the rickety handle. The painting slid to the left, revealing a large cubbyhole which housed a state-of-the-art computer system complete with various monitors, keyboards, and towers. All of which hummed with activity.
“What is this?” Adam asked.
“Best I can tell,” Miles began, “This is where Mrs. Ramone Carpasia spent a great deal of time prior to our arrival. By my estimates, when we have our meetings, she starts breakfast and checks in on her ex.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” Jeff sang.
Adam moved closer. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot going on there.”
“No,” Miles said, glaring at Paige. “But a few days ago, there was plenty to see, huh, Paige?”
She balked at the memory. While Adam and the others discussed intel, she’d retreated to her computer and tried to rewind and fast-forward the tapes quickly enough to find out what she needed to know.
“What happened here?” Adam demanded.
Her eyes fixated on the center monitor, the largest screen. Two days ago, something she couldn’t quite put into words unfolded before her very eyes. Ramone had slaughtered the Queen of Diamonds, his legal wife, and a woman Paige believed Ramone had truly loved.
“Tell him,” Miles said.
“No. If you want him to understand what happened there, show him. I’m sure you can retrieve the data.” She walked into the kitchen, reached under the wet bar, and retrieved a crystal tumbler.
By the time she’d poured a stout drink, the entire downstairs filled with Ramone’s voice. After the first gulp, she imagined they were at the point of documentation, where they would realize what she’d seen.
She’d witnessed the brutal slaying of Ramona DeVinci Frangelico Carpasia, Ramone’s first wife, the woman some in Ramone’s organization feared would eventually be the death of him. Perhaps he’d started to believe his advisors, and if so, then Paige would be next.
When Ramona’s blood-curdling screams filled the room, Paige slammed the glass against the bar and watched it shatter. She eyed the bottle of whiskey. With blood pouring from her hand, she tilted back the decanter and took a hearty drink.
“Salute, Ramona,” she said in a thick accent, raising the bottle and savoring the burn when the lukewarm liquid washed across her throat.
“Is that any way to send off a friend?” Connor asked, joining her.
“She wasn’t my friend.”
Jeff walked in and closed the door behind Connor.
“Drinking the day away sounds pretty good to me,” Jeff remarked, retrieving three glasses from the bar while Connor yanked paper towels from a nearby counter.
“No one wants to eat in a kitchen where they’ve seen blood spilled.”
“It’s not tainted,” she blurted out.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you,” Jeff spat. “You married a known serial killer, a man accused of taking various women to his bed because of certain fetishes.”
She shivered once and tried to defy the ill feeling rolling over her. Too late. Her hands shook and her body swayed. She was weak in the knees, and before she knew it, she swooned.
Glasses were tossed in the air, two of which Connor managed to catch, and Jeff grabbed her before she hit the floor.
“Are you all right?” Connor asked, ignoring the shattered glass all over the kitchen cabinets and floor.
“Fine,” she said softly.
“Drink much?” Jeff asked.
“I said I’m okay,” she snapped. “I just need to lie down.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Connor told her. “I’ll have a look at that hand first.”
Jeff sat in a kitchen chair and pulled her down to his lap in the process. She felt strangely comfortable there.
Connor snickered. “Well, if this isn’t a sight to behold.”
“Shut up,” Jeff warned him.
“Let me see,” Connor said, reaching for her wrist.
Paige turned her palm up, and Connor picked a few small pieces of broken glass from her skin, carefully taking the time to remove them before he left the room.
“You’re a lot of trouble, I see. Why didn’t you pull this kind of stuff on Adam? I’d much rather be sitting on the beach watching for the bad guys.”
“You don’t have to watch for them,” she told him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeff asked, shifting under her.
When he moved, she realized why. He had a sizeable boner!
She found the whole idea of Jeff getting a hard-on quite amusing and disturbing at th
e same time. What woman wanted Jeff Jacobsen in her bed? She cut her gaze sharply in his direction.
“What now?” Jeff asked.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Remember how deadly he is. Remember who you’re dealing with, Paige. This guy is dangerous with caps all the way across.
“Nothing,” she replied, looking away.
Jeff’s fingertips caught her chin. “This is something. That I’m sure of.”
His five o’clock shadow made him look bad-boy pretty in a way she hadn’t noticed in previous weeks. He possessed thick lips, the kind a woman could dote on, given the chance. His hooded eyes made him appear uninterested, but at the same time, she saw lust lurking there, too. His confession said it all.
This was definitely something.
When he moistened his lips, his gaze fell to her mouth. “You’ve put some kind of spell on these guys.”
“So you’ve said,” she remarked, breathing in spurts.
“And I don’t want any part of it.”
“I can see that,” she replied, managing a smile. His damn penis poked her behind again, and she pressed against him. “It’s a good thing you aren’t interested. I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“Age is a number. I’m only interested in what kind of experience goes along with those digits.”
“Thought you weren’t interested,” she said triumphantly.
“I’m not,” he lied, dipping his head and taking a first kiss. “I swear to you, I’m not.”
The passion between them was sealed off in a mind-blowing, tongue-tangling kiss. The way he cupped the side of her face and kissed her left her breathless, like she’d run a marathon from one major city to another just so she could get the first taste of him.
Her senses came alive when his mouth claimed hers. The taste of peppermint mixed with his cologne was like an aphrodisiac, potent and addictive.
Paige wanted to back away first, but he kept entertaining her lips, massaging the side of her face as he kissed her into a fantasy or two. What would he be like in bed? Was that where they’d been heading since their devastating introduction?
He sighed, released her, and said, “I’m still not interested.”
Blaine, Destiny - Breakfast by the Sea (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 9