by Shayla Black
“Because you loved her, and now we’re involved again? Why would I throw out the friendship I had with her and view her purely as the enemy? You didn’t do that with Mad.”
“Didn’t I? We weren’t close again for years, and never the way we had been. Honestly, when I found out you were sleeping with him again, I…”
Gus frowned. “You what?”
He stared into the fireplace as if he couldn’t look her way. “I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder how much of my flirtation with Joy was to get back at you for Mad. Gabe told me about it. He said you’d shown up in Vegas while he and Mad were partying and that you’d spent the night with Crawford. A couple of days, too. He laughed about it, said how nice it was to see you again. And how funny it was that Mad laid off the hookers because he claimed you were better in bed.”
That had been a wild weekend, and there had been more to it than even Gabe had known. “I was there because Mad asked me to come. His father had passed away. Yes, we slept together, but mostly I held him while he cried, Roman. He was my friend. He didn’t know how to show that vulnerable part of himself to you or any of the other guys. So when it got rough for him, he turned to me. It might surprise you to know that we often didn’t have sex at all. We would sit in bed and eat room service and watch movies and talk.”
“If you got along so great, why didn’t you marry him?” he bit out.
Gus turned to glare…and saw Roman’s hurt. She was starting to see through his knee-jerk responses, which made it so much easier not to take his bait. He might not even be aware he was tossing out the juicy line on purpose. Because he was emotionally dumb. Smart as a whip about everything else, but in this Roman was behind the curve, like a lot of men she’d known. Men like Mad, whom she’d always tried to help. But she’d avoided sifting through the emotions of the one man she’d truly cared about because he had the power to hurt her.
That realization made Gus terribly sad.
“I didn’t love him that way and he didn’t love me.” She didn’t tell him that Mad had offered once, that she’d turned him down because she’d been so in love with Roman she couldn’t envision herself married to anyone else.
She tried not to admit to herself that was still true.
“I don’t understand,” he admitted.
“That’s because women are infinitely more reasonable than men.” It was true in most cases. At least the majority of her friends were reasonable about the high-powered, single-minded men in their lives who rarely saw anything in life but the goal in front of them. “I need to find out if and when Joy came to see Constance.”
“But you said I was reasonable.” He raised a brow at her. By the firelight, on the sofa with one arm around the back of the couch, lightly touching her shoulders, he looked so handsome, a little devilish, as he poked at her.
Gus melted. Roman rarely teased. He was so serious, so focused on his goals and the future, on climbing new pinnacles. She hated to intentionally end his mood and drive a wedge between them but time was ticking away. She was going to have to tell him about her upcoming late-night adventure. And the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized that sneaking out of the room alone would be difficult. And reckless. It would definitely piss him off if he caught her—and he almost certainly would. The floors creaked, and Roman was a light sleeper.
“You can be very reasonable…when you want to be. I would very much like you to be.”
Those intense dark eyes of his narrowed. “Why would I need to be reasonable, Augustine? If you’re going to tell me you want your own room, I won’t be reasonable about that. Kemp is going to be coming this way in the morning. Hell, might already be on his way now. Connor is going to be on his trail, but I’m not risking you. If you don’t want to sleep with me, I’ll stay here on the couch.”
How to handle him? Ease him in. Yes, that was the best path. The one thing she didn’t want to see was that vein above his brow start to throb again. Because he took things far too seriously, he could easily be on his way to an early heart attack. Tonight could be a great adventure, something they’d look back on fondly. If she pitched it right, maybe she could get him to see it that way.
“What if I said I want to sleep with you…but I also want to visit a cemetery tonight, see who we run into?”
His forehead crinkled in pure confusion. “What?”
She downplayed her suggestion with a shrug and took a nice sip of Scotch. Not as good as what Zack would have served, but she wouldn’t complain. “I’ve heard the cemetery here is extremely romantic at night, and there’s a full moon.”
“You want to make out in the cemetery like a couple of horny teenagers? Have you ever seen a horror film? Even one?”
So no to the adventure. “I just thought it would be nice to take a stroll.”
“When would we take this stroll, Augustine?” His voice deepened as his suspicion returned.
She gave him a weak smile. “Midnight might be fun.”
“Just say it. What horrific and terrible plan have you concocted?”
“I didn’t concoct anything. I was contacted by someone who claims to have knowledge about how and why Constance Hayes died.”
Roman stood, slamming his glass on the side table. “Are you kidding me? When did he call? What did he say? Did he call himself Deep Throat?”
It was Gus’s turn to be surprised. “He didn’t call. He texted. The number was blocked. He told me to meet him in the cemetery at midnight. And yes, he called himself Deep Throat. I know that’s a cliché, but something tells me you’re not commenting on how passé his moniker is.”
Roman grabbed his cell phone with a curse and pointed her way. Accusation tightened his face. “He’s a menace, is what he is. I swear I’ll beat the shit out of him. He always goes for our women. He went after Everly, then Lara. He’s never brave enough to show his damn face to one of us, merely puts our women in danger.”
“Maybe he contacts the women because we’re the reasonable ones. You look a little crazy pants right now, babe.”
And that damn twitch was back.
“Did he say he would only give the information to you?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck him.” He hit a single button on his screen and put the phone to his ear. “Connor, Deep Throat’s back and he’s all over Gus. Yeah. The same old stale play. I need you to shave your legs, get a long, dark wig, and heels. No, make that flats. When Gus wears heels she’s almost as tall as you so flats should work. Tell Lara to do your makeup. Sometimes Gus does those smoky eyes, I think they call it.”
He’d gone off the deep end.
Gus plucked the phone from Roman’s hand. “Connor, it’s Gus.”
“Please tell me you’re going to save me from doing a one-man drag show,” Connor all but pleaded. She could practically see him standing there with his mouth hanging open.
Because Roman didn’t lose control. He was always cool and confident.
“Yes. Forget the flats and the smoky eyes,” she promised. “Deep Throat did contact me, but his invitation included a plus one. He knows I’m going to bring along Roman. Everything will be fine.”
“Everything will not be fine,” Roman insisted. “And since you get a plus one, maybe Lara can stand in for you. Or Everly.”
“There isn’t a heel tall enough to make either one of them look even slightly like me.” What had happened to him not risking his friends’ wives? She clicked his phone over to speaker. “Connor, Roman is going with me. Contrary to what Mr. Optimism here thinks, we’ll be fine. I’m not doing anything but talking to this person, and the cemetery is an easy walk to the police station.”
“It’s an easy setup for murder, you mean,” Roman ground out. “It’s a freaking cemetery, Gus. It’s possible he’s already dug our graves.”
“He’s watched way too many horror films,” she told Connor.
“Roman, calm down. Every time we’ve come up against this guy, he’s given us information we needed and
gone on his way. It was total coincidence that the crazy chick from Everly’s office tried to kill her while she met with him, and Lara didn’t realize she had a couple of Russian assassins on her tail, which she would have known if she’d been as reasonable as Gus is being right now. You win the medal for best girlfriend because you actually told Roman instead of sneaking behind his back like the others.”
“I took Everly with me.” Lara’s protest came over the line.
“Still haven’t forgiven either of you for that,” Gabe complained.
Roman shot her a pointed look.
“Hey, Gus, it’s Everly. Can you try to surreptitiously take a picture of this guy because Lara and I are pretty sure our Deep Throats were actually two different men.”
Roman gaped. “She is not taking a damn picture.”
Gus would try. Maybe if she hid her phone in her jacket pocket and managed to maneuver it at exactly the right angle.
“Absolutely not,” Roman barked, just in case they hadn’t all heard his first edict.
“Fine,” she replied, mostly because unless she used her flash, the image wouldn’t look like anything except a black blob in the dark. “But when we come back to London, we’ll all sit down and compare notes. I’ll try to remember as much as I can.”
“Roman, are you okay with this?” Connor asked. “I don’t think I can pass as Gus, but I might be able to hop on that helo and pass as you. I know from experience this guy is serious. He won’t talk to anyone but her. For once, he’s giving a little by letting you come along. I’m surprised. Maybe he learned his lesson from forcing Everly and Lara to come alone.”
“No.” Roman sighed. “I’ll go with her. I’ll take care of her.”
He sounded resigned, but he’d clenched his jaw so hard it looked ready to break. That vein over his brow was thumping double-time.
She needed to calm him down. “I’ll text and let you know when we’re done. Then we’ll debrief when we get back to London.”
“I’ll be on Kemp’s trail, but you can fill me in later,” Connor replied. “And Gus, you carrying?”
“Of course.” She had a small pistol in her purse.
“Don’t be afraid to use it.”
The phone clicked, and Roman stared at her.
“What are you carrying? Please tell me it’s a rape whistle.”
The poor man had no idea how to deal with her. Luckily, she was catching on quickly how to handle him. It all came down to bending a little. He was arrogant, but he did care about her. He was scared to care too much, of course. But he was here beside her. No, it likely wouldn’t be forever…but how would she know for certain if she never tried? She’d never told him in the past how she’d felt, just lashed out in hurt when he hadn’t felt the same. As he’d pointed out, they were older, wiser. More tempered. Maybe with honesty and communication, they had a better shot.
She set the phone down and took his hand. “A rape whistle would only annoy the man. My Ruger, on the other hand, will take care of him. I have a license to carry. I’m trained and everything. My dad started taking Dax and me to the shooting range when we were tall enough to see over the counter. I got it into the country by having the Secret Service carry it for me.”
“Damn it, Gus. It’s illegal for you to carry that here. England is serious about their gun laws,” he insisted.
He was right, but he’d also forgotten a few things. She smoothed her hands up his shirt, all the way to his broad shoulders. Telling him about the midnight meeting hadn’t gone as bad as she’d feared. With some maneuvering and help from his friends, he’d agreed to go with her, and he’d only had a little fit. “That’s why I travel with a super-hot lawyer. He’ll get me out of whatever mess I land in.”
“That is not how it works, Augustine,” he argued. But he wasn’t putting distance between them.
“Are you saying you won’t save me?” She softened, looking up at him. She’d kicked off her shoes and was well aware that now he stood a few inches above her.
“You don’t need me to save you.” His hands encircled her waist. “You never have.”
“Everyone needs a little help now and then. I wasn’t going to sneak out on you. I admit, I considered it, but I’d rather have you with me.” She smoothed her thumb over that angry vein popping along in his forehead. “Stop worrying. Everything will be okay because we’ll be together. Besides, I would rather have you watching my back than Connor. He’s too sneaky for my taste.”
He took a deep breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “I know what you’re doing. You’re placating me.”
That wasn’t all she was doing. She was seducing him, too.
Gus raised her hands to his hair, running her fingers through the normally coiffed strands, and breathed him in. She loved how he smelled. He still wore the same aftershave he had in college. She knew if he didn’t pay someone to buy his suits, he likely wouldn’t have changed those either. He was a rock…and she’d been a hard place. What if they could manage the feat they hadn’t been able to all those years before? What if they could actually stay together and make them work?
“I’m calming you down so we don’t have to fight and you don’t have to have a stress-induced heart attack. Sit down for me.”
His hands tightened on her waist. “I don’t want you to go out there.”
Because he cared. Maybe more than a little?
“I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We’ll get whatever information Deep Throat has and we’ll be one step closer to untangling this mess.” Not to mention discovering who had killed her loved ones.
“You have to promise me something.”
She groaned inwardly. Was he really going to ask her to step back after tonight? Yes, he probably would insist she give him all the information she collected, so he could take it to Zack. Then he’d cajole or bully her into keeping her pretty nose out of the rest. She was doing her best to understand and accommodate him. Couldn’t he at least try to reciprocate?
He wasn’t there yet, and she had to accept that getting Roman to change his mind about anything wasn’t a quick process. So if he asked her to back off, she would give in. It would hurt, but this was likely all Roman could give her now if she wanted a tomorrow with him.
“What is it?”
“Promise me when we find out who did this to our friends that you won’t do anything rash. You won’t go after them by yourself. You’ll let me hire someone to make them die terribly and painfully while we sit back and watch.”
Gus smiled. That was more concession than she’d expected from him. It told her that he really was trying. “I will let you arrange the appropriate violence. But I get a front row seat.”
“How long before we have to leave for this crazy clandestine meeting we really shouldn’t take?” Roman asked, his lips touching her forehead, skimming down her nose.
“Long enough,” she murmured in a husky voice. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“I don’t want to talk anymore. I want to kiss you and touch you, forget we’re doing something reckless that may end badly.”
At least he no longer considered kissing and touching her in the reckless category. Another mark in the win column. “If you’ll sit down, I promise there will be very little talking, babe. I can’t talk with your cock in my mouth.”
He fell to the cushion below in an instant, spreading his legs wide with a groan. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this in the last thirteen years?”
Her body hummed with energy, brimmed with desire. They didn’t have to be angry with each other to feel burning passion. That realization eased something deep inside her. She’d always been afraid they’d brought out the worst in each other, but this…this was different. They were different. She’d given him some trust, and he was repaying her with his own.
“Really?” she drawled. “Tell me exactly what your fantasy is. Do you want some hot secretary to come in and take care of your needs?”
She could role-play. It
might be fun.
He shook his head, his stare focused and serious. “My fantasies aren’t about some random woman. They’re about you, Augustine. They’re always about you.”
His words melted her, and she banished the tears that threatened. She didn’t remember him being so sweet, so open. Then again, they hadn’t talked much back then. If she’d challenged him by suggesting a midnight stroll with a potentially dangerous informant years ago, they would have moved immediately into the screaming-match portion of the evening. Now, they were able to have a non-confrontational negotiation. Maybe they were more equipped to deal with each other—and have a future together—after all.
“Tell me your fantasy about me, Roman.”
She started to unbutton her blouse, slowly, one button at a time, watching as his eyes flared, turned hot. They’d had so much fast and furious sex, so much raging passion without a lot of thoughtfulness or ease. Going slow and easy now seemed almost forbidden.
He reached for the Scotch, his body relaxed—with the single exception of his erect cock. It tented his slacks and made him look so masculine. Money and power and sex rolled off him, all directed her way.
“I’ll sit in my office and watch you walk by,” he confessed. “Sometimes, I leave my door open because I know what time you’ll pass. Every morning you grab a latte and walk to the press office at a quarter after nine, and every morning I think about calling out and asking you to come inside and shut the door.”
When she freed the last of her buttons, she shrugged her blouse from her shoulders and let it drop to the ground, gratified when his stare clung to her breasts. “And what do you intend to talk to me about, Mr. Calder?”
“Who said anything about talking? I’ll have you lock the door, and even though you’re a little surprised, you know that some of the work we do is important and requires secrecy. You are a bit surprised when I insist you strip naked for me.”
Now they were getting somewhere. She felt her lips curl up. “Do I comply? Do I strip for you, Mr. Calder?”
“You’re hesitant at first, but I explain how stressed I am and the only thing that can possibly fix my problems so I can help the president is for you to take off your clothes and get on your knees. I inform you this is a new part of your duties.”