by Cynthia Eden
Her hands curled around her stomach. “I slept with him.”
Jett’s muscles clenched.
“Before—before Patrick took me, before I knew what he was. I-I thought he was a good guy. He seemed to care about me. We’d been dating for two months. Two months.” She bit her lower lip. Shuddered. “While I was dating him, he was killing those other women, wasn’t he?”
Yes, he had been.
“I fucked a killer. And he’s all I can feel right now.” Her lashes lifted. She stared at him with desperate eyes. “I can feel his hands on my skin, and then I can feel his knife. I fucked a killer, and now he’s going to keep coming after me. He’s going to kill me.”
“No.” Patrick would be the one to die. Jett would make absolutely certain of that fact.
“I-I have to shower. I have to wash away…”
But she didn’t finish. She’d already turned. Rushed toward her small bathroom. The door shut behind her with a soft click.
Savannah wanted to wash away the other man’s touch. The lover who’d betrayed her.
He’s all I can feel right now.
That situation was going to change. She needed time to heal. Jett was going to keep his hands the hell off her until she had recovered. And then, only then…
I’ll put my hands on you. I’ll make sure you forget how Patrick Zane made you feel. I’ll give you so much pleasure that you forget the pain.
And then he’d kill the bastard who’d made Savannah afraid.
Chapter Six
Three days had passed. Three days spent constantly looking over her shoulder and wondering when Patrick would show up. Three days spent knowing that she was being hunted. Only…
There had been no sign of Patrick. There had been no attacks. No contact at all from the guy.
Today…today was the first day that she’d gone back to her small shop on the edge of Biloxi. A place that sold local art and crafts, a spot that had quickly become popular with tourists looking to take a bit of the beach home with them. Her assistant Megan had been running things, an assistant who knew nothing about Savannah’s abduction.
The cops still didn’t know—at least, not the local ones. Jett had assured her that authorities higher up the food chain were investigating. But no one had come to her. No one had asked her a single question.
In fact, she hadn’t even seen Maddox or Andreas again. It was just—
“He never seems to take his eyes off you.”
Her assistant’s voice made Savannah jump. Savannah glanced over and found Megan with her hands propped under her chin as she leaned across the counter. Megan’s eyes were on Jett.
And Jett—
Savannah shot a quick glance his way.
His dark stare was on her.
For a moment, she almost got lost in his stare. Almost…then…
Focus. It’s business. He’s doing his bodyguard routine. Nothing more. Settle your ass down, woman.
Sighing, Megan glanced back at her. Megan’s close-cropped, bright blonde hair framed her pixie-like face. A face dominated by unusual, deep gold eyes. “If a man looked at me like that…”
Megan’s voice was too loud. Savannah had to fight the urge to shush the other woman as she hurriedly went back to wrapping up a lighthouse painting that needed to be shipped to a customer.
Megan gave a rough purr. “I’d probably just strip right then and there.”
Savannah ripped the paper.
Crap.
“Oh, hey, sorry…you need some help?” Megan asked as she came closer.
What she needed was for Megan to not make sexual references that Jett could overhear. Wasn’t it bad enough that Savannah had told him that she’d fucked Patrick? After her big confession, she’d been crying and she’d been so desperate to jump in the shower and wash away the other man’s touch.
When she’d come out of the shower, Jett hadn’t said a word. He’d just watched her.
He seemed to watch her all the time.
“I’ve got it,” Savannah muttered as she started wrapping the painting again.
“Sorry if I embarrassed you,” Megan said, her voice—finally, blessedly—low. “It’s just, I think your new guy is hot. He’s got this bad ass vibe going on—”
“He’s standing against a wall. Literally, just standing. Not kicking any ass.” Her voice was also low. But when she risked another glance at Jett, Savannah found a faint smile curving his lips.
No way he could hear them. They were almost whispering now.
“I know but he’s got this intense, coiled snake thing going on.”
Coiled snake? She almost asked Megan if the woman was drunk.
“Did I ever mention that I have a huge crush on Bruce Lee?” Megan asked. “Because he could kick ass. So much ass. And I bet your guy could do the same. It’s that look in his eyes. The whole, I-get-shit-done confidence. No one fucks with him, not unless they wanted to get fucked over.”
Savannah stared at her assistant. Just stared.
“What?”
Savannah cleared her throat. “I think I can handle closing up today. You’ve been working extra hours this week, so you know, you deserve some time off.” Leave, now. The woman needed to stop ogling Jett.
“When did you meet him?” Megan murmured. “Where?” Her attention was on Jett once more. “And does he have a brother?”
I met him three days ago when he burst into a dark house, kicked ass, and saved me from kidnappers. If she said that, well, Megan would just like the guy all the more. She’d probably pounce on him. “We’ve known each other a while.”
Another sigh from Megan. A wistful one. “I want a man to look at me that way.”
Savannah finished wrapping the painting.
“Like he can’t wait to eat me up.”
She didn’t tear the paper.
She did pull down the sleeves of her shirt though, making sure that Megan didn’t see the bruises on her wrists.
Megan touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
Savannah could feel her cheeks flushing. Okay wasn’t the way she felt. “Jett and I are just friends.” Now her voice was too high. “You are reading this all wrong. He’s just hanging out with me while I finish up a few things.”
Megan lifted one brow. “No, you aren’t friends.” She leaned closer to Savannah. “You just aren’t lovers…yet. But trust me, you will be.” She gave Savannah’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Glad you’re back. Sorry the work trip took longer than expected.”
Work trip, right. That was the cover story she’d given Megan.
“I will head out early, if that’s okay with you.” Megan eased back, but frowned. “You sure you don’t want some help?”
“I’m here,” Jett announced. “Anything she needs, I’ll give her.”
There was just something in his deep voice…Savannah had the terrible, sinking feeling that somehow, he’d overheard every single word they’d said.
A few moments later, the bell over the entrance door jingled as Megan made her way out. After one more wistful look at Jett, she was gone.
“Your assistant is interesting.”
She put the finished package to the side, leaving it in her out bin. It was scheduled for a shipment the following week.
“She’s got nice tats.”
Yes, Megan had some interesting tats on her arms. Beautiful, detailed flowers. Twisting thorns. “We went to the same tattoo artist,” Savannah confessed. She put away the packing supplies. Glanced up—
Jett had moved to stand right beside the counter. “You’ve got a tattoo?”
Two. “Yes.”
His gaze seemed—hot. Very hot. “Where?”
Like she was going to lift her shirt and show him. “In places you probably won’t see.” There. Let him wonder. The location wasn’t really that risqué, but he didn’t need to know that. She was actually surprised he hadn’t noticed her tats when she’d been wearing the thin hospital gown.
She headed to the register. Started
tallying the sales.
“Won’t see them, huh? Don’t bet on it.”
Her fingers froze. Then she looked up at Jett. And his gaze—okay, yes, maybe it was intense. Maybe it was lustful. Maybe it was just downright sexy. But in the last three days, he hadn’t made a single move toward her—well, not a sexual move, anyway. He’d been very much hands-off.
“How’s your head?” he murmured.
“Fine?” Yes, she made it sound like a question because she wasn’t sure why he was bringing up her head and—
He reached across the counter. Caught her hand. Pushed up the sleeve of her blouse. “The bruises have faded a lot.”
Yes, they had. She’d ditched her bandages, too.
His fingers—long, strong—slid over her inner wrist. She sucked in a sharp breath, wondering just when her wrist had turned so incredibly sensitive.
And wondering when she’d become so attuned to Jett.
Hurriedly, she pulled her hand back. “Any word yet? I mean, any sign of Patrick?”
“Not yet. He’s gone to ground. But we’ll find him.” He sounded absolutely confident.
A shiver slid over her as her gaze darted to the windows in front of her shop. She knew that Jett’s friends, his “team” had searched Patrick’s house. His business. Unfortunately, they’d turned up nothing useful. He’d said the guys were the best trackers out there. If they couldn’t find Patrick, did that mean that no one could?
Could she really spend the rest of her life always looking over her shoulder? Always searching the crowd for Patrick? Looking for his dark blond hair?
“What did he do with all of the money?” she whispered. Money that Patrick had taken from the families of his victims. Jett had told her about that, too. The families had paid the ransoms for their loved ones, only to have to bury the bodies.
“The payments were wire transfers to off-shore accounts.”
“Then maybe…maybe he’s off-shore, too. Maybe he fled the country.” Her gaze returned to Jett. Found him staring right at her.
“I don’t think so.”
“How long can we continue like this?” She hated the faint tremble that slipped into her voice. She hated being afraid even more. She’d been happy, before the abduction. Living her life, following her dreams. Thinking she had all of the time in the world for everything.
Then her time had been up.
“As long as we need to.” He flattened his hands on the counter. Leaned toward her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Now she smiled at him. “It’s not like you’re indestructible, you know.”
His eyelashes flickered.
“You can be hurt, too. And have you considered that I don’t want anyone taking a bullet or getting hurt because of me? You have a life, too, and I don’t want it stopped because you’re trying to save me.”
His gaze slid to her mouth. “I wouldn’t mind getting shot for you.”
That was—that was crazy. So, she told him. “That’s crazy. You don’t—”
He leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers.
It was a light, fleeting kiss.
“What are you doing?” Savannah whispered.
He laughed. Low, deep. Sexy. “If you don’t know, then I must be doing it wrong.” He started to pull back.
Her hands flew up and locked around his upper arms. Hello, nice muscles. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Because your assistant was right…” He smiled at her. “I can’t wait to eat you up.”
The sound of her heartbeat was very, very loud in her ears. Like, thundering loud. She could feel the flush on her cheeks. She could feel her nipples tightening. This was wrong. So— “I’m pretty sure you told me no before.”
“Sweetheart, that’s something no sane man would ever do.”
The way he was looking at her…
“But you were hurt,” Jett continued, his voice oddly tender. “And I had to make sure you’d recovered before anything else happened.”
Anything else? So, he was saying—what? That he wanted to sleep with her? Quick, dirty sex? She didn’t want that, did she? Not right now. Not in the insanity of her life. Totally not something she wanted.
Wasn’t it? Or was it exactly what she wanted?
“Don’t be scared. It’s just a kiss.”
It had been too light. Too brief.
She leaned across the counter this time. Her mouth took his. An open-mouthed, hot kiss. Her tongue slid into his mouth. Licked. Teased. Stroked. He growled.
When she pulled back, it was Savannah’s turn to smile. “That was a better kiss.”
His gaze was hot with lust. So hot she felt singed.
She also wanted more.
No, wrong. Don’t do this. Savannah jerked back. “I should—”
Glass shattered. Her front window splintered—
One moment, Jett was in front of her. The next, he was over that counter, on top of her. He’d tackled her to the floor and put his body over hers.
Her heart raced too fast, her breath heaved in and out, and he was crushing her. “Jett?”
His head lifted. He didn’t get off her. His face was tight with fury. With fear? “Are you hit?”
Hit? She’d been hit by him when he’d tackled her—
“Sniper shot. Heard it coming too late. Was too focused on you.” His hands flew over her body. “Dammit, baby, I’m sorry.”
Sorry? For what? She was fine. “I’m not hit.” How had he heard anything coming? The only sound she’d heard had been the breaking glass.
There’s a sniper in the area.
Jett’s voice blasted through her mind. She was staring right at his face, and she never saw his mouth move. Maddox, get over here. Someone just took a shot at Savannah.
She swallowed.
“Yeah…” His fingers brushed lightly over her cheek. “Don’t even pretend you didn’t just hear what I said to Maddox.”
“You didn’t say anything.” Her voice was hoarse.
“But you still heard me. Something else we’ll have to talk about soon.” He gave a hard shake of his head. “Not right now, though. Not while you’re in danger.”
Because someone had just shot at her.
“Stay behind the counter. Don’t make a move until I get back.”
Back?
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Fast, hard, possessive. “I’m going after the bastard.”
“Jett—”
Too late. He was gone. He’d rushed from behind the counter, and she wanted to yell after him to come back. To be safe.
Instead, she hunched down behind the counter. Her gaze darted to the left, to the right, looking for some sort of weapon. Not finding a damn thing.
Jett, watch your ass! It should have been impossible. But…she still sent that psychic message to him with a wave of fear and worry. Maybe he wouldn’t hear her, maybe he couldn’t get the messages she sent in some wild projection out to the world, maybe it was—
Don’t worry about me. His voice rolled through her mind. Deep. Dark. I’ll come back to you.
Savannah sucked in a deep breath. And she stayed hunkered down behind the counter.
***
He’d heard the bullet coming. The whistle of the wind that a normal man would never have been able to pick up. Even as the glass in the front window had started to shatter, Jett had been moving. He’d leapt over the counter, grabbed Savannah, and shoved her down.
Too close. Too fucking close.
If he hadn’t been there, if he’d been slower, she would have died.
He’d been distracted. He hadn’t been focused enough. The too-close call was on him. It couldn’t happen again.
Jett raced across the street. From the angle of entry, from the trajectory path he’d heard, Jett knew where the shooter should be. He bounded up the stairs of the nearby building, a killing rage filling him as he headed for the second story.
He kicked open the door. Rushed inside—
Empty
.
The space was completely empty, except for one lone chair that sat in front of the partially open window. He advanced, his hands clenched. From that window, he could see right into her shop. The attacker had sat there, waiting. He’d—
“You’re a dead man, asshole,” a voice snarled and Jett’s gaze jerked up—and to the right. To the small, black box that was attached to the ceiling. A speaker? And was that a damn camera, too? “This time, you burn.”
Jett realized he’d run straight into a trap. He didn’t even try to make it to the door. Instead, he turned and hurtled right through the window. The glass broke around him even as an explosion burst from the room behind him. The white-hot flames followed him down as he fell to the pavement.
***
The explosion seemed to shake the whole block. Savannah gave a gasp when she heard it, and yes, dammit, she risked a peek from behind her counter. Her windows were cracking and…
The building across the street is on fire.
Where was Jett? Where the hell was Jett? She started to surge after him—
Baby, I know I told you to keep that sweet ass behind the counter.
She immediately sank low.
Maddox is coming for you. Heading to the back door. He’ll take you out that way. Get you to safety.
The sound of her breathing was far too loud and labored. Are you okay? Talking to him this way didn’t seem strange. Not awkward. It was oddly natural. Like a link had somehow just snapped in place between them.
A beat of silence followed her question. Then…Never better.
For some reason, she didn’t believe him. Maybe it was because oh, a giant ball of flames had just ignited across the street.
In the distance, she could hear the wail of sirens.
I’ll come to you later.
The voice in her mind—his voice—had become fainter and real fear shook her. You’re not hurt.
He didn’t respond.
You’re not hurt! In her mind, she was screaming that to him, but the link between them—it was just empty. Too silent. And she was absolutely terrified.
He’d told her to stay down. But a fire was raging. And he wasn’t answering. He—
The door to her back room burst open. Footsteps pounded toward her. Then Maddox was there, reaching out his hand to her. “Come on!”