She had gone out of her way to avoid speaking to Michael since she had agreed to Jake’s plan. Even now, she worried that he might develop telepathy and read her thoughts. “Why haven’t we heard from Dustin?” She forced the words from her mouth.
“He’s playing a sick game,” Michael said as he fixed the sleeves of his pressed, black dress shirt. He steadied his hand atop the nearby recliner. “You okay?” He tilted his head to the side.
She jerked her attention away from his eyes and found herself staring at his parted lips. “Yeah,” she said in a voice that was just above a whisper. It had been days since she’d thought about sex, but now her mind was slamming into dangerous territory at full force. And here she was, wearing only a pair of yoga pants and a tee. “Have fun tonight.”
He took a step closer to her. “You know I don’t want to go.” He touched her shoulder, and his eyes drew her in.
“It’s for the veterans,” she reminded him. The ball had been only last weekend, but it felt like a million years had lapsed in between.
“I would have postponed. You know I’m only doing this because Jake insists.” He removed his hand from her body, and she felt cool at the loss of his touch. “Thank you for not fighting me on this. Thank you for postponing.”
A twinge of guilt coiled inside her abdomen. She wanted to blame it on the excruciating workout she had completed that morning in the hopes of ridding her body of tension, but she knew it was something more.
“Connor, you’d better keep your eyes on her while I’m gone,” Michael barked. Connor was in the kitchen, but Michael was loud enough for him to hear.
Connor peeked into the living room and looked at Kate, shooting her a sympathetic glance. A moment later, Jake approached from his guest room down the hall, near Michael’s bedroom. “You ready?” He tucked his gun in the back of his pants before slipping on a blazer to hide the weapon.
She’d never seen a gun up close before unless you counted passing by a police officer with one in the holster. She gulped. This was real. Too real. “You think Dustin will show up? Is Michael in danger?”
“No, I don’t think Dustin will show his face tonight, but I won’t let Michael out of my sight. Just in case.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Of course, Michael would say that—of course. “Michael, please be careful.” She sucked in a breath as his eyebrows raised a hair and his eyes penetrated deep through hers. Her jaw edged open.
“Everything will be fine.” He gave her one last, long look and headed for the elevator.
She wanted to pinch herself, to wake herself up. Perhaps she was stuck in some sort of never-ending carousel of a nightmare.
But the pain and fear that streamed through her body were reminders enough that she was very much awake.
***
Kate took a sip of her Merlot and set it back on the table with an unsteady hand. “What did you say? I’m sorry.” She looked down at the sushi on her plate, feeling no sense of appetite.
Ethan shifted in his seat and stared at Kate. “You okay? You seem a little preoccupied.”
Normally a sexy Southern accent and incredible gray eyes would impact her, but right now all she could think about was her safety. And, of course, Michael. She couldn’t stop the horrible images that spewed forth in her mind. Each scenario played out in her head, each ending with either her or Michael dead—or both. “I’ve just had a lot going on lately. I’m sorry.” She smiled at him and ran a hand through her blonde hair, which was flowing in soft waves down her back. “Thanks for doing the interviews and pictures with the newspapers before dinner. It’ll help further the cause for the veterans.”
She almost forgot about having her photo snapped for the paper. She had to bare her teeth and grin for the photographers. Would the images get her in even more trouble with whoever hired Dustin?
“Well, tell me about your business. I heard you were thinking of opening a third location in Charlotte. Is it true?” Ethan asked after popping a firecracker sushi roll into his mouth.
“I think I’m going to stick with New York and Boston, for now. I have my hands full with those locations, and I would probably be biting off more than I could chew by bringing my business to Charlotte.” Plus, I’m in danger here. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Connor. When she saw him, eyes on her, at the bar, she felt a little better.
“Do you like what you do?”
She was in no mood for this conversation, but she forced herself to play the role. Pretend everything was normal, and that she wasn’t scared of Dustin Scott. “Yeah, I think so. I didn’t have much of a choice, though. My stepmother needed me to help out.”
“Will you stick with it?”
“Probably.”
“You could always come and join the finance world. It’s very riveting.”
He has a great smile, she decided. And he was good looking. He definitely had the angular features and soft eyes that she adored . . . even though he, and every man, seemed to pale in comparison to Michael Maddox. Still, she hoped he could distract her from the fear that was burning her insides. “For some reason, investments and acquisitions don’t exactly sound sexy to me.” She returned his smile. It was her first real smile of the evening.
When Ethan finished his sushi, he looked up at the approaching waiter. “You ready to order?”
“I’ll have the egg noodles and chicken,” she said, wondering if she would be able to force feed herself.
“Same for me.” Ethan handed their menus to the waiter and focused his attention on Kate. “I guess we have similar tastes.”
She could practically read his mind and almost felt sorry for him. He had no idea how little of a chance he had. It wasn’t fair.
“Thank you again for bidding on me. It’s for a good cause.”
“I would have asked you out, regardless.” He brought his glass to his lips, but his eyes never left hers.
She downed the rest of her wine and rolled her tongue over her front teeth. Where are you, Connor? Her nerves pushed to the forefront of her mind when she noticed Connor was MIA from the bar. Was everything okay?
“You’re beautiful. I can’t believe Michael didn’t snatch you up for himself.”
Ethan’s comment snapped her attention back front and center. If only you knew. “His loss,” she joked.
“Lucky for me.” She relaxed when she spotted Connor near the entrance of the restaurant. He didn’t look alarmed, so she shifted in her seat, hoping to seem casual.
After the meal ended and she carried her weight through the polite conversation portion of the evening, Kate proceeded with the rest of Jake’s instructions.
Ask Ethan to a club. Get out wide in the open. Become an easy target for Dustin. Draw him out.
Thankfully, Ethan kept the drinks coming. The alcohol soothed her, alleviating her nerves. For a moment, she almost forgot that a murderous hitman for hire was stalking her—was possibly watching her at that very moment. Tipsy became somewhat of an understatement, and Connor shot her angry looks from the bar. He had been against Jake’s plan from the beginning, but he’d agreed to it when Jake explained that, once they had Kate’s willing cooperation, they were under direct government orders to proceed.
“Come here, sexy,” Ethan said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. They were at the nightclub where Kate had spilled her drink on Michael. That was the night her life had changed. No—her life changed the moment she received the phone call from Julia Maddox.
As much as she wanted to regret coming to Charlotte, she would never have discovered the truth about her mother, and she never would have met Michael if she hadn’t. She still wasn’t sure if she should be grateful, or pissed.
Kate attempted to focus as she danced with Ethan. His hands brushed over her bare shoulders before skimming down the sides of her pale yellow, sleeveless sequined dress. Dustin couldn’t possibly miss her in such a sparkly getup.
She closed her eyes and shut out th
e fear. Ethan’s touch reminded her of how much she missed Michael’s hands. At the memory of dancing with Michael, she held her breath. The image unfolded like a beautiful butterfly spreading its wings.
Bright. Bold. Amazing.
Ethan pulled her closer and wrapped his arms snug around her waist when an Ellie Goulding song blared through the room. She kept her eyes shut as they moved around the floor, thinking of Michael.
When Ethan’s lips touched hers, she blinked her eyes open in surprise. She took a step back, breaking their kiss. She had gotten lost in the moment, lost in the memory of Michael’s hands on her. And she wasn’t ready for the kiss, alcohol or not. “Sorry, I just . . .” She didn’t know what to say, and the music was so loud that it was probably pointless to speak, anyway.
“That’s okay. I’m sorry, actually.”
She took a nervous breath and began to search for the beat once more. Then terror struck her heart.
It wasn’t Dustin watching her.
She gulped at the sight of him. “Michael,” she whispered.
He stood just a few feet away from the dance floor, and he looked angry. Seriously pissed. Had she ever seen him so upset?
His top button was undone, and his shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows. His hands were fisted at his sides.
Ethan followed her gaze and looked over his shoulder. His forehead wrinkled in surprise.
“Kate, it’s time go,” Michael demanded. His jaw was tight, and even in the dim light she could see the muscles in his face were clenched. He was donning that Hulk look of his . . . but he had every reason to be angry with her. She had lied to him.
Kate looked back at Ethan, unsure of what to say or do. He was reaching for her hips, but his touch felt foreign and wrong, somehow. Especially in front of Michael.
“Kate,” Michael said with a strained voice. He looked down at Ethan’s hand and back up at Kate. His eyes shrouded in rage. “Now.”
“I should go,” Kate said, pulling free from Ethan’s grasp. “Thank you for the date.”
Ethan studied her and looked to Michael. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she had pulled away from his kiss.
“Goodnight, Kate,” Ethan said. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
She gave him an apologetic glance as Michael pulled her away. He moved so fast that she almost lost her balance in her four-inch heels. Holding her by the wrist, Michael guided her toward the door of the club.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried as they stepped out of the club.
“Michael,” Connor shouted, jogging to catch up.
Michael spun around to face Connor. “What in the hell were you thinking? And what the fuck is going on?”
Connor held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m following orders.”
“Orders?” he bit out. “Whose orders?” he asked, leaning in toward Connor.
“I can’t say.”
“Mine,” Kate shouted. “I insisted I keep my date with Ethan. I couldn’t stay cooped up any longer,” she lied.
He released his grip on her and edged back a few feet.
Just tell him the truth! She rubbed her wrist as if he’d burned her. “I’m sorry. I wanted to find Dustin. To draw him out. I’m tired of hiding.”
Connor grimaced and shook his head at Kate, warning her with his eyes. “Jake thinks you should take her somewhere else.”
“Where? Somewhere else that’s out in the open? So Dustin can get to her?” Michael threw his hands in the air.
Before Kate or Connor could respond, Michael reached for Kate’s hand. “Come on, I know where to take you.” He glared at Connor. “Tell Jake I’ll call him. Don’t have him waste his time calling me.” Michael’s black Audi was waiting near a valet by the curb, its engine still on, ready to go. “Kate,” he ordered.
Not willing to upset him any further, she slipped inside the sleek sports car without protest.
After slapping a few bills into the valet’s hand, Michael got in the car, shifted gears, and pulled out onto the road. His hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles whitening. “What were you thinking? Might I remind you that a killer is following your every Goddamn move?” He looked over at her and fury fired from his eyes. “You lied to me.”
She looked out the window and evaded him by asking a question of her own. “How did you find me? You weren’t supposed to know . . .” She wasn’t sure if it was possible that he could grip the wheel any tighter, but if he did he might yank it right off.
“I installed a tracking device on your phone.”
“What?” This time, she was the one seething with irritation. He hadn’t even blinked as he admitted the gross invasion of her privacy. She reached into her clutch and touched her phone self-consciously. “When? Why?”
“After the ball,” was all he said.
He was out of line. She was too upset to talk, so she remained silent as they drove, and she was thankful he copied her. “Where are we going?” she asked a little later when she realized they were leaving the city, heading north.
“To my place on Lake Norman,” he replied. His foot pressed a little harder on the pedal, accelerating the car to an almost dangerous speed.
“You have a place there?” That was the last place she wanted to go. Lake Norman was where her mother was murdered.
“Yes.” He continued to increase his speed.
“Be careful,” she warned, noticing the roads were slick from an earlier rain shower.
He sped up a little more, probably just to spite her.
After twenty-five minutes of driving (which should have taken thirty-five minutes), they pulled up in front of a wrought iron gate. He punched a few buttons on the electronic keypad by the gate, and it opened. They drove almost half a mile. Huge trees lined the property and the long driveway.
Kate drew in a deep breath when they reached the house. “You have a log cabin?” She tried not to betray the shock in her voice. She expected a mansion, not a one-bedroom cabin on the water. And that made her like him that much more. “It’s very . . . you.”
He parked in front of the house and got out of the car. Without waiting for her, he walked to the front door and unlocked it. He turned back to the car and looked over at her, still sitting in the passenger seat.
There was no way she would be able to walk to his house in her stiletto heels. She stared down at the rocky ground and contemplated her options. When she looked back up, Michael was in front of her. He must have realized her dilemma. He reached for her and scooped her into his arms, carrying her through the threshold of his home.
She looked up at him as he held her in his arms. He was breathing hard, staring down at her with his piercing blue eyes. “Did the touch of his lips feel good against yours?” he demanded.
His fury toward her was for more than one reason, she realized. “Why do you care?” she asked as her feet found the ground.
He ran his hands through his thick hair, mussing it up. “Did you want him?” His voice was like hard steel.
He had no right to be acting like this—no right. Being angry for keeping her date a secret was one thing, but being jealous about it? Hell, no! “Why did you bring me here?” She crossed her arms and tried to ignore the romantic setting of the small cabin.
Before she realized what he was doing, he moved her against the wall and propped a hand on each side of her head. She was imprisoned by his frame.
She looked at his tanned, muscular forearms, and her gaze traveled up to his shoulders, neck, and mouth. “Why am I here?” she repeated, her voice lower this time.
“You’re safer with me. Away from everyone. I don’t care what you think.” He cocked his head to the side. His face hovered a few inches from hers.
His lips were too close.
“I don’t feel particularly safe right now.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Did you like it when Ethan kissed you?”
Who the hell do you think you are? She pressed her hands against his solid ches
t and tried to push him away from her. “Get away from me,” she hissed.
But he wouldn’t budge—instead, he pressed his lips against hers. He possessed her with his mouth, taking back what was his. And she wanted him to. Oh yes . . .
After a few moments, she pulled away from him, feeling hazy and breathless. “Why are you doing this to me? You’re hurting me more than any damned stalker could . . .”
“I’m sorry,” the words pushed out of his mouth without pause.
“I thought we had this all figured out. You’re no good for me, remember?” She tried to swallow her emotions, but they were running skin deep.
He rubbed his face with both hands and took a step back from her. “I can’t get you out of my head. Even with everything going on, I just can’t . . .”
She watched him for a moment, trying to anticipate his next move. “I can’t handle any more rejection from you.” She started to walk away from him into the main living area of the cabin. Through a long window on the other side of the room, she could see the lake, glinting in the moonlight.
He caught up with her. “I want you,” he admitted, reaching for her arm.
The pain in her eyes must have been obvious because he softened his grip and dropped his head. She sighed. “Sex isn’t enough for me. It never will be.” She looked away from him and down at the oak floors. Apparently I inherited flip-flopping from my dad . . .
He touched her face and tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. “What if I want more?”
Could she believe him? Or was he riled up from the intense week they’d had? Was he just saying what she wanted to hear—needed to hear? “You don’t. You just don’t want to ‘share’ me with anyone else.”
“Of course, I don’t want you to be with anyone else! Seeing you with Ethan . . . slayed me. But I want you for more than that.”
She lowered her eyes, hating her body for trembling, betraying her emotion. She tried not to feel hopeful, but she wanted to believe he meant what he was saying. She wanted to believe that he wasn’t speaking from some primal need to possess her.
Her breath hitched when he touched her mouth, rubbing his thumb over her lips.
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