by Marie Harte
“Hmm. I’ll have to think about it.” She cupped his cheek and brought her face back down to his. “What would you give me for a shot at my fine tush?”
He chuckled. “Fine? Try smokin’ hot.” What would he give her? “I’ll give you whatever you want, Blondie. Anything at all.”
“What if I asked you to be my personal slave for a few days? You sure do make a killer stew out of crap ingredients. I could use a man of your skills.”
“And that’s got nothing on my tongue.” He wiggled his brows.
Her gaze darkened. She kissed him, keeping it light, comforting.
Loving.
Jesus, she was killing him. Sex talk, rowdy jokes, and tenderness?
She shrugged, her sly smile turning him on all over again. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. And while you’re doing that, think about this…”
Deacon kept stealing glances at his silent passenger as they rode the ferry from Bainbridge to Seattle to meet Noel. They sat in the parked car, the music turned on low.
Noel had found someone they needed to talk to, and he wanted Deacon there. Noel had tried to persuade Solene to stay with Hammer and Addy, but Deacon refused to let Solene out of his sight. Now that he’d realized how much she meant to him, he didn’t trust anyone else to protect her.
It made no sense, but there it was. Deacon had it bad for Solene “I Hate Men” Hansen.
He understood her so much better now, and everything he knew only made it that much more difficult to deny his feelings. He felt a kinship with her, to know a survivor who’d overcome the odds to find, if not happiness, then at least a measure of success. And all on her own.
Deacon had never been given anything in his life that he hadn’t taken by force. Even the women he’d been with had been a result of years of practice to learn seduction. Sure, they’d thrown themselves at him later, but not until after he’d laid the groundwork to get them in the first place.
But Solene. She gave herself fully. And even after, he felt her fighting to hold herself back from him, the same way he battled his need to give her everything. He’d all but laid himself bare for the woman. To tell her he thought he’d fallen in love with her would be the ultimate in stupidity.
As Solene had said, she thought she’d learned the hard way to not put herself out there anymore. Deacon, for all the similar hard knocks that he’d gone through, wanted to make the mistake of trying again. He wanted Solene’s affection, that special place in her heart that would be just for him.
Hell, the woman could own him by simply crooking her finger. That she had no idea she had such power was both good and bad. Someday she’d realize it, and it would be his downfall. He knew it. Just as he understood that if something ever happened to her, he’d never be the same.
“You okay?” she asked. “Your silence is heavy.”
“That’s deep.”
She rolled her eyes. “As deep as the crap you keep trying to sell me. What’s the deal with this guy we’re meeting, anyway?”
Deacon turned to face her. “I don’t know. Noel’s been pretty close-mouthed. I just need you close so I’m not distracted.”
“By what?”
“By worrying about your sorry ass, okay?”
“I thought us having sex solved the problem of being distracted.” She put her hand on his thigh, and like lightning, his body tensed all over.
“It only works if we have sex constantly,” he said, shooting for earnest. “A few times a night isn’t enough.”
Solene grinned. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I figure if I’m buried inside you, I won’t be thinking about sex because I’ll be doing it, leaving me to think about other things instead.”
She just looked at him. “You’re telling me you can think when we’re together?”
He blew out a breath and groaned. “No. God, you’re a pain in my ass. So annoying.”
She blinked.
“I can’t think about anything but you lately,” he growled, then wanted to smack himself for being too honest. What the hell. In for a penny… “I have a job to do, but lately that job revolves around your favorite color. Your preference for tea over coffee. How much you hate love-talk and sentimental shit and how you’re dying to give me that ass, but you don’t want me to know you need a reaming.”
She snorted. “Dream on.”
“Hey, I tried.” He hated that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut with her. Where the hell his suave self gone? At this rate, Solene would soon know he was weak, a goner, in lurve and all that sentimental horseshit. Then she’d wield her power over him like a queen.
She gave him a shy smile instead. So sweet he could do nothing but stare.
“Deacon, you must really want my ass to be so adorably miserable.”
He groaned again and covered his face. “I am.”
She gave an evil laugh, and that made him like—love—her even more. Damn. “I am Solene. Feel my wrath…my ass wrath.”
He laughed. “That’s terrible. But kinky. I like.”
She laughed with him. “Come on. Let’s stop moping down here and go upstairs. We have another twenty minutes before we get to Seattle. I could go for a cup of tea.”
“Earl Grey. I know.” And he did know, because he’d committed everything she did and said to memory.
“So, this info guy,” Solene was saying as they entered the passenger deck and food area. They walked to an unoccupied booth and sat on either side of the table. She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “What does Noel think you’re going to get out of him?”
“I wish I knew. Noel’s keeping things close to his chest on this. When you’re dealing with hidden eyes everywhere, and this enemy who’s been two steps ahead of us, it’s best to confer in person. My bet is Noel wants me to work his informant over.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Like, with your fists? Water boarding? Thumbscrews?”
“Seriously? You watch too much TV. More like tricking him into revealing things he doesn’t want us to know. There’s an art to verbal interrogation, you know. I’m pretty damn good at it.”
“Ah. I see.” She seemed relieved.
She watched him. He watched her. Solene seemed to be waiting for something.
He sighed. “What now?”
“Ahem. My tea?”
He bit back a grin. “Yes, your highness. Let me get that for you, my queen.” Too close to the truth.
Solene waved him away like the peasant he apparently was. “Go, sirrah. Fetch my beverage. Add a cookie while you’re at it.”
He stood. “You wait right here, where I can see you.”
“Come on. There are people here. I’m good. Just get me something to eat and drink, would you?”
“You can’t get something yourself?”
“Hmm. Let’s see.” She started ticking off her fingers. “I’ve stayed away from my job, hid out with you, and dealt with the reality of who you and your buddies are for weeks. I think I’m entitled to a little pampering here and there. Don’t you?”
“Well when you put it like that…” Not that he didn’t love waiting on her, but he didn’t want her to know how much he liked it. At the thought, he paused in step and looked back over his shoulder at her.
She smiled.
He gave her a stupid grin and felt ten feet tall. Oh hell. I’m never poking fun at Noel for being pussy-whipped again.
He fetched her tea and a cookie and picked up a gluten-free fruit bar for himself. As he waited in line to pay, a group of foreign tourists entered and obscured his view of the table.
When he returned to where he’d left her, Solene and her purse were gone, but her jacket and a note remained. In bathroom. Don’t have a hissy. And don’t you dare embarrass me by coming in!
He waited, wanting to trust that she’d be okay, that no one had followed them. He’d made sure they weren’t tailed, had checked their vehicle and found it clean, been as careful as could be about using a secured line, and hadn’t don
e anything to call attention to them.
But he had a bad feeling. After a few minutes, he grabbed all their stuff, dumped it in a seat by the bathroom, then headed in. She could just be mad at him, because Deacon didn’t fuck around when it came to the mission. And his sole mission right now was keeping the stubborn woman safe.
* * *
Solene couldn’t help it. She had to go to the bathroom, so Deacon could just deal. Besides, he shouldn’t take her cooperation for granted. She’d had to pee for an hour, and waiting for him to inspect a bathroom stall was stupid. A glance around showed nothing out of the ordinary, so she headed to the ladies’ room. She even walked in with a pair of older women, making it appear as if they were together, then quickly did her business.
She heard the ladies laughing by the sinks, then the door opened, and they left.
After she’d washed and dried her hands, she moved to leave and found the door locked.
“Hello?” She banged on it once. Weird, and more than a little unnerving.
A glance behind her showed no one else in the small room. With a max of four stalls on one side and a bar of sinks on the other, an enemy would have nowhere to hide.
Then she heard feet drop in one of the stalls. Her adrenalize surged, her mouth grew dry, and fear threatened to overwhelm her.
Until she remembered she wasn’t helpless. Not in the slightest. And Deacon was only a few footsteps away.
She patiently waited.
The last stall opened. A tall, hard-looking Asian woman exited. She had short dark hair, hard eyes, and a grim smile. “Solene Hansen. My employer has an offer for you.”
The woman made no sudden moves, but Solene wasn’t reassured. “Who is your employer?”
“Why don’t you call him?” The woman put her hand in her pocket, then withdrew a small cell phone and tossed it to Solene.
Solene caught the phone and hissed when something bit into her palm. She threw the phone that wasn’t a phone down and saw she’d been injected with something. “Bitch.”
The woman shrugged. “I’m all for keeping my hands clean. You’ll pass out. And when you wake up, you two can have a talk.”
Solene didn’t feel woozy yet. “What does this boss of yours want?”
“Ask him yourself.”
“But why me? I’m not involved in all this.” She waved her hand in the air and saw it blur. Uh oh.
“You’re involved. You whores never know when to quit.” The woman’s disdain dripped from her tongue like poison. “You’re a little angel, aren’t you?” She laughed. “Enjoy your trip to heaven, slut. You’ll wish you hadn’t when he’s done with you.” She ran a hand through her hair, exposing a strange tattoo on the inside of her wrist, what looked like a pair of wings.
Something about the word “angel” jogged Solene’s memory before it vanished.
“This is shtupid.” She coughed and tried to rid herself of her swollen tongue. “Deacon’s outsh—outside.”
“Don’t worry about Shaw. He’s expected.” The woman leaned close and whispered in Solene’s ear. What she said made Solene draw back, not sure what to believe. “You’ll remember that, won’t you?” the woman said, her smile not reaching her eyes.
Solene started to lose her balance. She leaned against the wall, just out of the way of the door. A good thing. Because the door banged open, and Deacon entered.
He glanced at her, then at the woman, and his expression grew icy.
Solene saw another side of her charming lover, and that added to what the woman had said, threatened to change everything…
Seven
“Sue Ahn. Why am I not surprised?” Deacon glared at the woman who’d been an okay sub-contractor, but who had never understood boundaries. She’d often been used by the Business and had left a few years ago, probably let go due to poor follow-through. That or she’d followed Burleigh when he’d left.
He found it telling to learn of her involvement in this mess.
Hot damn. Now they had more than just supposition of Romero Burleigh’s involvement.
“My name is Wings,” she growled.
Sue Ahn didn’t do much wetwork. The woman usually served as a go-between. She could be deadly, no question. But Sue liked logistics and planning more than getting her hands dirty. She moved unobtrusively and could be counted on to be discreet. Her loyalty was questionable, as she answered to the highest bidder, making her a less than trustworthy asset.
“You have to earn the name, sweetheart.” He saw her tattoo on her wrist and sneered. “Ink doesn’t mean shit in the Business world.” He shot her a patronizing smile to annoy her, pleased when she scowled.
“I’m just here to deliver a message, asshole. My boss wants a word with the blond bitch.”
Solene leaned against the wall, not looking like herself.
“Deacon. Whatshup?” Slurring her words, obviously drugged.
He snorted. “You’re lucky she’s drugged or that blond bitch would be kicking your ass.”
“Whatever.”
“You get one shot at living through this. Tell me what Burleigh is up to, then bail.”
“Burleigh? What about him?” Sue shrugged. “I’m no longer employed by the Business. I’m solo, strictly freelance. I have no idea what Burleigh is up to. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. My boss is paying me too well. That and he’s crazy. I turn on him, I won’t see tomorrow.”
“You fuck me over, I guarantee you the same results.”
“You talk a big game, but you won’t.” She shook her head. “You’re a dickhead, but at heart, a decent guy. You’re weak, Shadow. Pathetic.” Sue withdrew a pistol and at the same time she raised the weapon, he dropped a knife from his wrist sheath into his hand and hurled it.
The blade impaled her off-hand. She gave a muffled shriek, dropped her gun, and tried to pull it out, blood pouring down her fingers to the floor. One knife gone, so he replaced it with two more, one in each hand.
He moved toward Sue, keeping himself between her and Solene, knowing he had little time before a larger party no doubt joined them. “Solene, can you get into one of the stalls?” he asked, thinking it would provide some cover.
“N-nope.” She giggled, and he swore. Sober Solene didn’t giggle. “Tryin’ to not fall down.”
With Sue glaring holes into him and a threat soon to come in from outside the small lavatory, he needed to move fast. He hurried to Sue, easily avoided her attack, and delivered a knockout of his own. He didn’t like hurting women, but she’d threatened Solene and tried to shoot him. All bets were off.
She went down, hard, while he dragged Solene to the farthest stall and shoved her inside. “Stay here.”
“Sh-shure.” She giggled some more. “Maybe. My hands l-look like tentacles.”
“Christ.”
Before he could move Sue’s body out of the way, three men entered the bathroom and blocked the only way out. One remained with his back to the door while the others attacked. Deacon threw one knife after the other. The first struck the taller of the two in the shoulder, but the shorter man had yanked a stall door open, blocking the second knife.
While the larger man yanked the weapon from his body, the other threw himself at Deacon, who dodged and nearly tripped over Sue.
He regained his footing and kicked at shorter guy’s knee, causing him to stumble. Deacon followed with a roundhouse to the gut, and when the jerk bent over, Deacon sent an uppercut to his jaw. The smaller guy slumped to the ground, unmoving next to Sue. The larger of the two bled from his shoulder but otherwise remained unfazed as he did his best to knock Deacon’s head off.
Deacon continued to dodge the attacks, but the bastard shoved him into the counter, bruising his hip. As Deacon turned, he saw Solene peering over the stall, standing on a toilet, watching everything. With her luck, she’d fall in, maybe crack her head open in the process.
A large hand cuffed him in the face.
“Fuck.” He feinted left, rolled right, and manage
d to grab one of his knives from the floor. Rising, he stabbed the giant and took a glancing blow on his shoulder. Painful but not damaging. Aggravated in the extreme, Deacon put on a burst of speed and sank his knife into the dick’s chest. As the big guy wavered on his feet, Deacon withdrew the weapon, then sliced in and out of the man, puncturing a lung and severing a major artery.
The giant went down in a bloody heap. Which left one more man to deal with. But this one knew how to move. Deacon barely avoided a kick aimed at his head. Great. A martial artist.
He pushed all the pain and worry for Solene from his mind, embracing the adrenaline, the danger. He fought hand-to-hand, blocking, advancing, and bracing for contact. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sue rise groggily to her feet, narrowly miss being stepped on, then rush, stumbling, from the bathroom.
He tried to stop her but found himself stymied by his opponent. Not wanting to leave Solene anywhere near the guy, Deacon continued to fight, keeping him away from her stall.
They continued to dance back and forth, the grace in his adversary a thing of beauty. But Deacon didn’t have time to deal with him. At any moment, a civilian could come walking in. He didn’t want to have to explain this mess to the police. The dead body would be a problem.
“Who are you working for?” he asked, breathing hard, as he lured the man in for a combination strike. They ended up grappling, both locked and unable to counter, forcing a temporary stalemate.
“Our employer wants to talk to the lady. She won’t be harmed. But the same can’t be said for you if you get in the way.” The man blew something into Deacon’s eyes, momentarily blinding him, and escaped while Deacon fought to clear his vision.
He heard the door slam shut and swore. After using some water to clear his eyes, he noted the two bodies on the floor. One dead, the other starting to moan as he came to.
“Shit. Come on, Solene.” He found her passed out in the stall, folded over herself on the toilet. Graceful even on the can. Somehow, he didn’t see her comforted by the thought. Carefully easing her into his arms, he ignored his aches and pains and took her out of the bathroom. A few onlookers noticed him carrying her, so he forced a smile and shrugged as he grabbed their belongings. “Too many motion-sickness pills. Out like a light.”