HOT SEAL Target

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “But it was amazing, right? Tell me it wasn’t just me.”

  He frowned hard. And then he shook his head. “It wasn’t just you.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. Anger flared. “Dammit, why couldn’t you have kissed me like that years ago?”

  “I should have. I wish I would have.”

  She searched his gaze. “Do you actually mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel good?”

  He gripped her shoulders, his touch sending lightning bolts flashing through her. His face lowered until they were nearly eye level. “Listen to me, Quinn. I know you were overweight and you hated your body back then, but you were still pretty. Losing weight didn’t magically make you into someone else. You’re still the sweetest girl I ever knew—and yeah, I wish I’d realized all this years ago. But I was an idiot, and I was selfish. Neither of which were your fault.”

  He stepped back and glanced over his shoulder. Fai Kwan was pulling the car up to the curb. “You okay to go now or you need a minute?”

  Quinn swallowed the knot in her throat. How could she possibly unpack all he’d just said? “I’m okay… Blade?” she asked when he turned away.

  He focused on her again, his gaze hot and troubled at the same time. “Yeah?”

  “I wish things were different.” Her heart hurt. Just hurt.

  “I do too. Because I wouldn’t have stopped at that kiss, believe me.”

  Her body trembled at that statement. Because what did it mean? What would have happened if she wasn’t married to Hunter? Would he have taken her to bed? Made love to her?

  And how would she have handled it if he had? They’d been friends first, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wanted more all along. It was a cruel trick of fate that he was here now and they’d just shared their first kiss.

  “You don’t have to stop,” she blurted.

  He turned to stare at her, his brows drawn together. “I do, Quinn. You’re married and your husband is my boss.”

  “He hates me. And I hate him. We can find a way.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

  No, it wasn’t. Her shoulders sagged as he opened the door to the Rolls. She stared at the interior of the car, the rich creamy leather, and hated her life so much in that moment.

  “Get in,” he said softly.

  Quinn sank onto the plush seat and closed her eyes. Trapped. Always trapped.

  Blade didn’t sleep well. It was part jet lag, part obsession over that kiss he’d shared with Quinn. He hadn’t known what the fuck she was up to, but if he’d been in battle and she’d been an enemy combatant, she would have killed him dead.

  Because she’d thrown her arms around him and kissed him for all she was worth, and he hadn’t seen it coming. Why hadn’t he?

  He wasn’t sure, but he lay awake for hours, thinking about the kiss and the way he’d responded—not to mention the things she’d said about finding a way—and his resolve to get her the hell out of there hardened.

  He had to get those cameras stopped first, however. It would have been easier if Hunter Halliday had gone out again, but he stayed in the apartment that night, drinking whiskey and talking on his phone until the late hours. When he finally retired, he didn’t go to the room where Quinn lay. Instead, he went to another room. Blade only knew that because he listened and then he followed, staying in the shadows as he did so. Halliday went to a different room and closed the door behind him. Then a television came to life, the sound leaking through the walls.

  Blade stood there and frowned for a moment, then he melted in the opposite direction, searching for the room where the cameras were controlled. He finally found it. It was the only room that was locked. He picked the locks and let himself in quietly, walking over to the console and sitting down to study the setup. It wasn’t very sophisticated, but it was the kind of basic shit a novice with a Napoleon complex could handle. Hunter Halliday could sit in here and view his videos—good-quality videos—with the glee of a petty god.

  There was no sound, as Quinn had said, but that wasn’t because the system wasn’t able. It had everything to do with Halliday’s paranoia, no doubt. The man didn’t want his own utterances recorded. Though he could record conversations while sitting here, which meant that Quinn wasn’t really safe from her husband’s spying if he wanted to listen in on something she was saying.

  The camera displays were on the screens in front of him. Nothing, predictably, in the room where Hunter had retreated. But the cameras were everywhere else—the living areas, the kitchen, the hallways and bathrooms. And, yes, the bedroom where Quinn lay sleeping now.

  Except she wasn’t sleeping. She was lying in bed and reading a book. She was covered head to toe in sleepwear—a button-down pajama shirt and pants—and she flipped through her book at regular intervals.

  He couldn’t read the title, though it looked like a romance novel if the cover was anything to go by. A shirtless dude with tanned muscles. Quinn’s hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her face was makeup free.

  Blade shook himself and searched for the controls to the system. There was an alarm system for the apartment, which had an outgoing line to the alarm company. But the cameras were not monitored remotely. They were for Hunter’s use, and for use in case of a break-in when they would presumably be studied by the police. Once he shut them down, they had no notification system to the alarm company. Hunter might get a notice on his phone, and he might make a call immediately. Otherwise, it would be morning by the time it happened.

  Which meant Blade could search Hunter’s office tonight if he wanted. But it was safer to wait until Ian Black had control of the camera system, so he’d chill until then.

  Blade used a simple command to shut the cameras down. It wouldn’t hold if Hunter did a full diagnostic, but they were counting on the fact he was the kind of man who’d call someone to fix it for him.

  Blade let himself out of the control room, locked the door, and made his way back to the small room where he was staying. Then he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Ian Black. “It’s done.”

  The ping came back a couple of moments later. “Got it. Don’t worry your pretty head.”

  Blade sat in the darkness and stared at the phone’s screen. It wasn’t lost on him that he could go to Quinn now. That Halliday wouldn’t know. Unless the man got a hankering to go to her room himself, which seemed doubtful if what Quinn had said was anything to go by.

  But Blade wasn’t going to do that. There was no way, even though he wanted to, that he would go and do all the dirty things he imagined to Quinn while in the same house with her husband. While she was married to her husband.

  He wasn’t that kind of guy. Even if she was unhappy and her marriage was a sham, he wasn’t taking advantage of that. Besides, they were friends first, no matter that they’d shared that kiss today. Yeah, it had been a hot kiss that gave him all kinds of ideas, but moving beyond it wasn’t a good idea.

  He’d get Quinn out of her situation, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her emotional turmoil. That’s not what friends did. Even if he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her tongue felt in his mouth—or the way his body responded at the thought.

  “Down, boy,” he murmured as his cock got in on the trip down memory lane. “Not happening.”

  But sleep was a long time coming. And when it did, Quinn was featured front and center in all his dreams.

  When Quinn got dressed and went to breakfast the next morning, Hunter was sitting at the table, frowning hard and yelling into his phone as usual. He glared at her as she sat. Li-Wu brought her coffee and fixed her plate. Blade wasn’t there. Probably avoiding Hunter.

  She took a dainty bite of toast and chewed slowly, though her food tasted like sawdust in spite of the jam she’d slathered on. When Hunter was in a bad mood, he took it out on everyone. And he’d been in a bad mood since they’d arrived in Hong Kong a couple of weeks ago.

  He finished the call an
d threw the phone down. Quinn hated the tension knotting her stomach, but she was used to it by now.

  “Did you fuck with my security cameras, Quinn?”

  Quinn blinked, toast hovering in the air as she processed his question. “What? No! How could I? You keep that room locked.”

  He had always been obsessed with security, which was his primary reason for having the system—or so he said—but she’d never been inside the control room. She wasn’t allowed.

  He snarled. “I’ve called a technician. He’ll be out in an hour. I’m going to the office, but make sure he doesn’t leave until the damned thing is fixed.”

  “Would you like me to stand over him, or would you prefer I send Li-Wu?”

  “Send that damned bodyguard of yours. He needs to do something to earn his pay.”

  Frustration hammered her. “You’re the one who thinks I need a bodyguard, Hunter. If you don’t want to pay him, then send him away.”

  Her heart thumped. She didn’t want Blade to leave, but she also didn’t want Hunter to know that. So she shrugged and tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

  “Nice try. He stays.”

  Hunter threw down his napkin and got to his feet before pocketing his phone. He stopped beside her chair and glared down at her. Quinn’s pulse raced. She didn’t stare, because he wouldn’t like it, but she glanced up at him. He gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze head-on.

  “Don’t eat so much you bloat before the party. My wife is supposed to outshine all the other wives. It’s why I keep you.”

  His words rained down like poison darts on the insecure girl lurking inside her. That girl never wanted to be made fun of again. She feared failure more than death. It wasn’t logical, but there it was.

  Quinn swallowed. “I know. I will.”

  He let her go and straightened. “You can be replaced, Quinn. Never forget it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Blade finished his workout, then went back to his room and showered. A text came in while he was standing beneath the spray. He checked it after he’d dried off.

  It was Ian Black. Call intercepted. Man on the way.

  Blade acknowledged the text with a thumbs-up before sauntering into the bedroom and dragging on jeans and a button-down shirt. He holstered his weapons—one concealed at his back, one concealed over his hip—and headed for the dining room. If Hunter Halliday was there, he wouldn’t stay.

  But Halliday wasn’t. It was only Quinn, and she sat at the table with her head bowed, a plate of food barely touched in front of her. She looked up when he entered. Her eyes flashed with hurt and pain, but she quickly covered it up with a broad smile.

  “Morning,” she said. “You sleep well?”

  “Jet lag is improving, so yeah, not too bad.” He grabbed a plate and loaded it up. He didn’t usually get such a late start, but he was still adjusting to the time. If he was here for much longer, he’d start rising before dawn and get his workout and breakfast out of the way before Quinn or Halliday showed up at all.

  “You should know that Hunter’s cameras are on the fritz,” Quinn said brightly. “It’s too much to hope they’ll stay that way, of course. A technician is coming out. Hunter wants you to supervise.”

  Blade raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

  “He doesn’t trust me, and Li-Wu has enough to do—that leaves you. He thinks you need to earn your pay.”

  Blade snorted. “No problem. I’m happy to watch a technician fix a security system.” He took a bite of sausage and chewed. “Any idea what happened?”

  “None whatsoever. And I don’t care either. I wish they’d stay broken, but they won’t.”

  They would, in fact, but he couldn’t tell her that. “Well, maybe he’ll have to order a part or something.”

  “Not likely. Hunter would offer somebody a million bucks to turn Hong Kong upside down and find the part before he’d go without his cameras for even a day.”

  Yeah, the rich bastard probably would. The man had a superiority complex that made him think his needs were more important than anyone else’s.

  Quinn moved food around on her plate with her fork. But she didn’t eat it. Blade nodded at the plate. “Second helping?”

  He knew it wasn’t, but the way she toyed with it told him she had no plans to eat it.

  She lifted her gaze from her eggs. “What?”

  “You aren’t eating because you’re full, right? You went back for seconds?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I didn’t go back for seconds. But yes, I’m full.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She looked surprised. He didn’t let her offer an excuse.

  “You aren’t eating because your asshole of a husband put you off, right? What did he do?”

  Her skin turned pink. One thing about being a redhead with pale skin—it was easy to tell when she was affected. Which confirmed his suspicions.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “Quinn.”

  She dropped the fork with a clatter and folded her arms over her chest as she leaned back in the chair. “Jesus, it’s nothing! I’m just not hungry.”

  “I don’t fucking believe you,” he growled. “Tell me what he did or so help me God I’m walking out of here.”

  He wasn’t and it wasn’t a fair thing to say, but her lip quivered. Bingo.

  “I know better, all right?” she blurted. “But he said something about my being bloated for the party if I ate too much, and my damned brain won’t let it go.”

  Blade’s gut churned. He literally wanted to smash Hunter Halliday in his smug face. Then he wanted to tell the bastard what a tool he was before sweeping Quinn up and taking her far away from this place.

  “Quinn,” he said, his throat tight. “You have to eat. Fuck him and his narcissistic bullshit. Is he the picture of fitness? Does he have a trim waistline? Or does he wear a fucking man girdle beneath his trousers so he doesn’t have to order bigger pants?”

  “He has high blood pressure and he needs to drop thirty pounds.”

  “Then who the fuck is he to talk about bloat? Eat what you want. A real man doesn’t care how much you weigh—he only cares how you feel about yourself. If you feel like a million bucks, then it doesn’t matter what you eat. Be healthy, but don’t starve yourself for some idiot’s ideal of the perfect woman.”

  Her eyes glistened. She sniffed. Then she shook her head as if clearing it. “If I gained all that weight back, would you care?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  Her gaze fell. “Of course you would.”

  Anger flared deep inside. “Not for the reason you think, Quinn. I’d care because you wouldn’t like it. I knew you back then. If you’d been happy in your skin, it wouldn’t matter. But you weren’t. You were miserable and you hated yourself.”

  She dropped her head and turned away from him. Her hands clenched into fists on the table. “Sometimes I still hate myself,” she said softly.

  His heart ached for her. He shoved back from the table and went around to her chair. Then he dropped to his knees and put a hand to her cheek, turning her toward him. She came reluctantly, but she came. Her gaze was defiant.

  “Quinn. Baby. I failed you as a friend. I didn’t stay in touch. I wasn’t there for you. I should have been. Because if I had been, I’d have told you I was proud of you. That you’re one of the sweetest people I know. You can hate yourself if you want, though it hurts me to hear you say it. Because I don’t hate you. I never have. I’ve always, always cared about you. From the first moment I saw you crying when those bullies were teasing you, I cared. I couldn’t help myself. And I care now.” He sucked in a breath. She trembled beneath his touch. “Eat breakfast, Quinn. You don’t have to gorge yourself, but eat what you like. Don’t let that asshole dictate what you do.”

  Her hand came up and wrapped around his wrist. Her fingers were cold. “You have no idea how happy I am you’re here—but no matter what you think, you won’t stay. He’ll fire you or you�
��ll get sick of his shit and leave. But I’m stuck, and I have to think about that every day.”

  “Madam,” Li-Wu called from the hallway as he approached. “There is a man to fix the security system.”

  Blade stood quickly and moved away from Quinn as the butler entered the room. His gaze flickered over Blade but didn’t linger. Quinn swiped beneath her eyes and stood. “Yes, Mr. Halliday said there would be. Did you show him to the room?”

  “I did, madam.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Mr. Garrison will supervise him.”

  Li-Wu bowed. “Of course.” His gaze flicked to her plate. “Your breakfast is cold. Would you like me to fix another plate?”

  Quinn dragged in a breath. She didn’t meet Blade’s gaze. But she raised her chin and nodded. “I would. Thank you, Li-Wu.”

  “It’s my pleasure, madam. Let me refresh your coffee as well.”

  “Thank you.”

  Blade drew in a breath, thankful that she seemed to be willing to eat after all. He couldn’t stay to verify it, however. He quickly made a sandwich with toast and a fried egg since he wouldn’t be able to eat what was on his plate.

  Li-Wu handed him a fresh, steaming cup of black coffee. “I will bring you more coffee in fifteen minutes if you wish.”

  Blade could have kissed the man. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  He waited until Li-Wu was busy fixing a new plate for Quinn. She looked up at him as he stopped by her chair. He didn’t know what made him do it—it was madness to do it—but he bent down and placed a swift kiss on her mouth while Li-Wu’s back was turned.

  Her eyes popped as she gaped up at him. “Are you crazy?” she hissed out.

  “Yep. Now eat—and fuck anyone who tells you not to,” he growled for her ears only. He started to walk away, but she reached out and caught his wrist, stopping him.

  He frowned down at her pretty face. At her green eyes that were so wide and innocent, her high cheekbones and pert nose. Her mouth that begged for someone to kiss it. She squeezed his wrist before dropping it.