Black Platinum (In the Shadows Book 6)

by P. T. Michelle

  “Even in redundancy mode,” she says, an edge of sarcasm lacing her tone.

  I shrug out of my shirt and pick up the tracker, my gaze heavy on hers. “Your safety will always come first, Talia. That’s a promise I made you before we got married.”

  She sighs and tucks a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. “I’ve been taking care of myself most of my life, Sebastian. You need to have a little faith.”

  “It’s not you I worry about,” I say, scowling. “It’s all the asshole schmucks out there.”

  We stare at each other in silence and when I see her gaze stray to my naked chest, my dick instantly stirs back to full attention. I move to pull the covers back, but she shakes her head.

  “What happened to ‘my head always rests where yours does’?”

  Sitting up, she grabs the cover lying across the bottom of our bed and spreads it out beside her. “Your head will be right beside mine,” she says as she pats the blanket beside her.

  My gaze narrows. “You’re serious?”

  “I’m serious about two things: I would like you to trust that I’ll do what it takes to protect myself. And yes, I’m sincere about abstaining until we walk down the aisle.”

  Grumbling, I set the tracking device down on the nightstand, turn out the light and climb into bed, pulling the thin cover over me. She tenses slightly when I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her back against me despite the covers between us. “Don’t think for one minute I’m not going to hold you close, sweetheart.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she sighs in the darkness.

  “Determined,” I whisper against her ear, then plant a warm kiss on the back of her neck. “But since we’re laying here awake, why don’t you tell me about my ring.”

  “Never!” Talia laughs softly. “And no more turning this apartment inside-out looking for it, because I’m not telling you anything about it, other than to say it’s not here, Mr. Sneaky Pants. Who knew the man I married hated surprises? I’m just glad I have a heads up about this tendency of yours before your birthday rolls around.”

  I shrug. “I like knowing what’s coming. What metal is it?”

  “Not telling.”

  “Is it yellow? White? Black?”

  “Nice try.”

  “Stones?” I grumble, not liking the idea of any kind of gemstone in my ring.

  “It’s mini handcuffs,” she says on a snicker.

  Snorting, I kiss the back of her head. “Close your eyes, sexy. One more night of torture until I get to make you mine all over again.”

  “That didn’t sound at all territorial,” she says through a yawn as she slides our fingers together.

  “Damn straight, Little Red,” I rumble, tucking our folded hands between her breasts.

  The sound of her low laugh makes me smile in the darkness.

  “I love you too, Mister Black.”

  I lift the tracking device from my nightstand and lean up on my elbow to watch my wife sleeping peacefully. With the sun shining on her vibrant red hair splayed across the pillow, and one long, shapely leg thrown out of the covers as she faces me on her side, she’s the picture of well-tumbled. I might be her Rainbow Master in bed, but whether she realizes it or not, she has delivered on her promise to help me see life’s colors through her eyes.

  I no longer resent the loss of my color vision. Yes, it’s a fucking annoyance at times to be mostly limited to the gray spectrum, especially since no one at BLACK Security knows the truth, but I count myself blessed that I can at least see the brighter end of the red spectrum. Talia has no idea how much I love staring at her hair. The pleasure I derive from seeing that bit of color surrounding her face each day is indescribable. I’ll never tire of it.

  I curl my fingers tight around the tracker in my hand to keep from reaching over and running my fingers through the silky auburn strands. She looks so relaxed, I don’t want to disturb her just yet. While she’s sleeping, she’s not off interviewing past enemies and stirring up old wounds. Here, in our home, I know she’s safe. And that’s the thing that’s such a constant kick in the gut…worrying about her safety with her job. It puts her in harm’s way more than it fucking should, but I would never tell her to quit.

  I can’t believe she’s writing an article about Banks as a savior for his neighborhood. How fucking ironic is that? Talia might think he’s fine with her connection to me, but my jaw still pops a little each time I move it a certain way from that sucker punch he inflicted during my last “conversation” with him about someone I care about. He might not be directly responsible for my mother’s death, but he’s connected. If that fucker even dares to look at Talia sideways, I’ll destroy everything he has built without a second thought.

  The plastic casing around the tracker in my hand suddenly cracks, yanking my attention back to the present. Exhaling, I ease my tight hold on the device.

  Talia wants me to relax, but my dark past and SEAL training have conditioned me to protect. Being on alert isn’t something I can just switch off. It’s in my DNA. But pleasurable distractions…hell yeah…that I can get on board with. My gaze slides down to her shirt. It came unbuttoned in her sleep, exposing the peachy curve of her breast. My mouth waters at the fullness. I didn’t get to spend as much time on them as I would’ve liked last night. Thoughts of our evening rushes forth—the memories of her body shuddering under my mouth and hands and the sweet taste of her on my tongue—and my morning wood instantly hardens to painful ball-throbbing levels.

  I force my gaze to her face and memorize her long lashes shadowing her curved cheekbones and the bow of her lips. Fucking hell I want her, but since sex isn’t on the agenda, an excuse to touch her while also adding to my own peace of mind will have to do.

  Sitting up, I lean over and give her sweet ass a whack. “Wake up, gorgeous!”

  “Ow!” she says, instantly glaring at me as she rubs her rear through the silky material of her underwear. “Do you have a death wish this morning?”

  “You said last night you want me to trust that you can handle yourself. Well, there’s no better time than the present. How about a morning lesson in self-defense?”

  Talia scowls at me as she tosses her bedhead mane over her shoulder. “That was meant figuratively, Sebastian.”

  Standing, I set the tracking gadget on the nightstand and cross my arms. “You’re going to ‘figuratively’ defend yourself in the face of an attacker?”

  “Of course not. I would…”

  My eyebrow hikes. “What? What would you do?” When her only answer is to glare at me, I gesture to the open space in front of our bed. “Come here. This will only take a few minutes, but it could save your life.”

  “I’m no SEAL,” she says on a snort as she crawls out of bed and moves to stand in front of me.

  “The goal here, Little Red, is to give you a chance to get away from your attacker, not beat them to a pulp. That’s my job. Are you ready?”

  Nodding, she puts her hands up, her fists curled tight.

  She looks so adorable, with her tousled hair, shirt partially unbuttoned and no pants on that I can’t help but grab her fist and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Even in this feisty pose, you’re tempting as hell.”

  Talia quickly lands a punch to my side with her free fist. I grunt and she jumps back from my loosened hold. Bouncing on the balls of her feet like a boxer, she raises her fists, ready once more. “See…I improvised.”

  I step forward and immediately encircle her throat. “Things can change on a dime. Be ready.” I don’t squeeze, but when she intuitively reaches for my wrists and tries to push my hands off to free herself, I say in an even tone, “What you’re doing will cut your breathing off. Raise your hands above your head, forming a letter A around my wrists.”

  When she gives me a doubtful look, I wait for her to comply. Once she sighs and does as I ask, I continue, “Now throw your arms down to one side, fast and hard.”

  She quickly drops her arms to the left toward the floor an
d my hands are immediately pulled from her throat. “Ha, that worked well.”

  “You should be running away at this moment, not gloating,” I lightly reprimand.

  Nodding, she stands at attention and gives a quick salute. “Okay, got it. Any other tips?”

  Taking her by the shoulders, I walk her into a corner of our bedroom. “The last thing you ever want is to be backed into a corner, Talia. But if you find yourself trapped, fight like mad and give it everything you’ve got to be free.” I lift her hands up toward my face. “The eyes are as vulnerable as balls. Keep your fingers slightly bent and jab at them with just as much gusto. If you’re being attacked and you can’t stab your fingers into his eyes first, then knee him in the balls. The second he reaches down to defend his maimed junk, go for his eyes or chop at his exposed throat if you can’t get to the eyes. Once he stumbles, get out of there.” I lift her arm and bend it, tapping on her elbow. “Don’t forget that your elbow is one of the strongest weapons in your arsenal; use it for a blow to the head or jam into his chest if he’s behind you.”

  Turning her around, I hook my arm over her chest. The moment I pull her against me in a firm hold, her feminine scent hits me in the gut. “You smell so damn good,” I murmur, running my nose along her throat.”

  “Ahem…defense lessons,” she says on a soft laugh.

  “Right.” I smirk and tighten my hold slightly. “If your attacker is behind you and he has your arms trapped, head butt him to free yourself. Once your arms are free, turn and follow my other advice about vulnerable spots: jab, knee, and elbow, then run like hell.”

  Once I release her and she turns around, her eyes spark with determination. “We have five minutes before we have to get ready for work. Any other moves you’d like to show me?”

  I give a wolfish smile. “I can think of plenty of moves I’d like to show you.”

  “Focus, husband.” She grins, shaking her head.

  I nod and clasp her wrist. Tugging her to her back on the carpet, I trap her hands on the floor, leaning on my knees over her. “Think you can budge me?”

  She grunts as she tries to tug free of my hands. “Two-hundred-plus pounds of pure muscle is hard to move.”

  “My weight doesn’t matter. Use my size to your advantage here. You just need to knock me off balance to be free.”

  When she stares up at me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to figure out, I chuckle. “I can see that brain of yours spinning. Any thoughts?”

  “Just one.” When she whispers the next part and I dip my head slightly to hear what she’s saying, she folds her right elbow in and upward. Trapping my arm against her head at the same time she bends her right knee and hooks her foot around my calf, she lifts her hips high and jams her left hip against my body, shoving my body over with all her strength.

  I end up on my back with my wife kneeling between my thighs, fingers in claw mode, ready to gouge my eyes out.

  “Now you’re completely at my mercy!” As she laughs and falls against me, thumping her hands triumphantly on my chest, my nightstand alarm goes off. I quickly grip her waist and pull her up my body until we’re nose to nose.

  I’m proud as hell that she caught on so fast, while sexual tension and annoyance at the alarm’s timing buzzes through my veins. “Good strategic move, Little Red. But unless you want to be at my mercy, you should stop rubbing your half-naked sexiness against my neglected body parts and hit the shower.”

  Pressing her lips to mine, she quickly rolls off me before I can lock her to me and deepen the kiss. “Be back here at three to get ready for rehearsal,” she says as she walks toward the bathroom.

  “Theo’s back on duty,” I call after her.

  She turns before she reaches the bathroom, her eyebrow arched. “So much for self-defense lessons.”

  I lean on my elbow, my gaze drilling into hers. “He’s your shadow until the wedding is over, Talia.”

  After she nods her agreement and reaches for the doorjamb to turn into the bathroom, I say, “We’ll reassess after that.”

  Talia quickly turns back, frowning. “Sebastian—”

  The second alarm goes off just then from the nightstand. I point to my ear. “Can’t hear you.”

  I hold back my chuckle when she throws her hands up. Just as she starts to shut the door, the alarm turns itself off. Talia pokes her head back out and says, “Oh, I meant to tell you…after talking to my dad, I’ve decided to invite my aunt to the wedding.”

  When she quickly shuts the door before I can voice my opinion, I scowl and call out, “Definitely reassessing, Talia!”

  Chapter 6

  Talia

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Stan says to me while Nathan quickly moves to shut our boss’s office door.

  “It’s out of our hands, Talia.” Stan closes the folder with Bank’s interview in it and moves it over to the right side of his desk, his action final. “As soon as Nathan’s police contact saw the painting on the wall in that photo you took of Banks, he said that Nathan’s right. It appears to be from a museum collection that was stolen six months ago. I know you told Banks he could see a proof of the interview today, but you need to tell him we got held up and you’ll get it to him in a couple of days. The police don’t want him seeing the photo and spooking him. That should give the police enough time to investigate.”

  “You mean give them enough time for a surprise raid of his home!” I snap. “Look, I don’t know if he’s guilty or not—for all we know it’s a very good replica—but my reputation is on the line here, Stan. I promised Banks the only reason I was there was to interview him. He’ll never believe a police shake down the day after I interviewed him wasn’t my plan all along.” My heart thumps erratically with my worry. My boss and Nathan have no clue about Sebastian’s past connection to Banks and I certainly won’t be sharing that info with the Tribune, but coming down on Banks would be like kicking a hornet’s nest and turning it on the Blakes.

  “Calm down, Talia. If the painting really is from that collection, then this is for the greater good. And honestly, that’s what your job is supposed to be about anyway, not fluff articles.”

  “Good investigative work,” Nathan chimes in as he moves to stand next to me. “Remember, that’s what we do here.”

  “I prefer ethical investigative work.” I glare at him, folding my arms. “After this, my ‘word’ won’t mean anything.”

  I pivot and start toward his door. “Where are you going?” Stan calls, tension in his tone. “We need to discuss upcoming projects.”

  “For a late lunch. Rest assured your duplicitous message will be conveyed.”

  I leave his office and march straight toward mine. Nathan’s so close behind me I can smell his cologne.

  “Talia, wait up.”

  I stop in my doorway and block his entrance. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nathan, but you just put me at risk.”

  “I insisted that the police have to find some other reason to get into the house. That way it can’t be traced back to us. You’re worrying too much.”

  “Are you really that naive? Banks may seem easy going, but he’s not the kind of guy you cross. Once the police zero in on that painting, Banks will blame the only investigative journalist who’s recently been allowed an exclusive interview in his home.”

  Nathan slides his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels, his expression confident. “I guarantee you that Banks has made many enemies over the years. You’re probably the last person who’ll enter his mind.”

  “Good journalists don’t bank on probabilities,” I snap.

  He lowers his arms, tension edging into his stance. “I was there too. He could easily blame me instead.”

  “Well, that makes me feel so much better.”

  “If he tries to come after you, he’ll regret it, Talia.” Gaze hardening, he crosses his arms. “With Banks’s history, I could dig up so much dirt on the guy I could bury him.”

>   My ex has done some things on a professional level that I’ve wanted to choke him for in the past, but listening to him now makes my stomach churn. This reckless and aggressive behavior is something I’ve never seen in him before. “What has gotten into you lately?”

  His brown gaze sharpens, his jaw hardening. “You should’ve married me, Talia. I can protect you just as well as Mr. Ex-Military.”

  “That’s what forcing me to go back on my word with Banks is all about? Who I’m with?”

  “I didn’t put that painting on that guy’s wall. And the old Talia wouldn’t have let it slide either, but my point is I’ll protect you.” Stepping closer, he lowers his voice. “For fucks sake, I took two bullets for you, Talia. If that doesn’t say I never stopped caring…I don’t know what does.”

  My face heats with guilt over Hayes shooting him. I’ve seen Nathan wince and roll his shoulder from time to time. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, Nathan. We’re work colleagues, nothing more.”

  His jaw tightens. “You came to the hospital. You care, Talia.”

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right. I felt horrible that you got caught in the crossfire of Hayes’ vendetta against me. But you mistook human decency for something more. I’m happily married, Nathan. You need to move on.”

  Before he can say anything else, I walk into my office and shut the door, ending the conversation. As angry as I am at him for this Banks’s situation, Nathan’s partially right about one thing. I don’t view things as black and white as I used to, but then again, I have more than myself to worry about now. I have a family to protect, too.

  Sitting down, I immediately dial the number I have for Banks. I’m pretty sure it’s the house’s landline—the guy’s that private. My hands shake as I wait for him to answer. Once it goes to voicemail, I leave the message Stan asked me to convey, then hang up and type Stan an email. Once I hit Send, I bite my lip and try to decide what to do next.

  For all I know, the police could raid Banks’s house today. The last thing I want is for the Blakes to suffer any kind of blowback from this. I cooperated as far as the police are concerned, but how can I still honor my word with Banks? It’s not as if I wouldn’t go hard after the guy if he later became part of a Tribune investigation, but in this particular case, my word is who I am. My gaze lands on the flyer for a brand new pizza delivery place in my inbox, and I quickly grab the paper and my purse before I head down the backstairs, hoping like hell this new place delivers to the Lower East Side.