by Misty Evans
Running. That’s exactly what she was doing.
Not that she would ever let him know that.
A shiver slid down her spine from his simple nearness. The music continued to beat in the background, snapping at her nerves. “I don’t run from anyone.” Liar.
“Sure looks like that’s what you’re doing.”
She whirled around to face him; her breath caught.
He’d trapped her under a broken overhead light and the shadows around the former SEAL made him look even bigger and more badass than she knew him to be.
Swallowing the tightness in her throat, she stomped on the lust bubbling up inside her. Never had a man affected her the way he did. Never had anyone gotten under her skin like he had. His presence, his voice, ignited like dry kindling inside her.
“What do you want?” She forced her voice not to betray the wild emotions riding her. She was an operative for God’s sake, deceiving the enemy was second nature.
And Jaxon Sloan was definitely her enemy.
He was also the one man who saw past her duplicity every time.
His eyes swept over her, lingering on her hips for a second before coming back up to her face. “You know what.”
“No, I really don’t, and I can’t be seen with you. You’ll blow my mission.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re good at that as I recall.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as blink. The barely-there light from farther down the hall caught on the scar on his temple. “You’re not working a legitimate mission, so knock it off. Whatever this is, it isn’t important.”
“Isn’t important?” Clearing Elliot’s name was her only mission. Sure, she was in Chicago to help the FBI with a counterterrorism case, but that was only to make her boss happy. Little Gus had connections she needed for Elliot. “Of course, that’s what you’d say.”
She turned her back on him, the past anger surfacing as she headed for the back entrance, but that was good. Anger kept her clearheaded. Anger suffocated her tangled emotions.
Anger would keep Jax at a safe distance.
She’d have to come back another night to see if she could get to Little Gus.
Two strong hands grabbed her by the arms and spun her around. Jax pinned her wrists to her sides and pushed her against the wall. “Where is he?”
She jerked her wrists away, only because he allowed it. He could probably crush every bone in them with ease. “Who?”
“You know who.”
He smelled like cedar and warm rain. Her mind went back to that night in Marrakech, the soft rain starting after midnight, falling outside as he did wicked things to her body.
Concentrate. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His liquid brown eyes, black in the shadows, narrowed and his head tilted slightly. For some stupid reason, she wanted his hands on her again. “Are we really playing this game?”
“I’m not playing a game. I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Shut him down. Get away, before you become a blubbering, lusty bitch. Oh, right, too late. “Get out of my way and don’t come back here to harass me again.”
She tried to leave him, but his arm shot out, his hand resting on the wall near her head and stopping her.
He leaned in, studied her face. His full lips beckoned. “You’re lying.”
“I know you think that all I do is lie, but that’s not true.”
She’d told him the truth that night and then she’d betrayed him by taking Elliot’s side when everything went south. He’d returned the favor by “proving” her partner was a traitor.
Elliot wasn’t a traitor any more than she was. Jax had it all wrong. If only she could make him see that.
Proof. She was going to get proof of her partner’s innocence. That’s why she’d been here tonight, trying to get in good with the biggest gangster the South Side of Chicago had ever seen. He had the connections she needed.
Jax’s face was inches from hers. His gaze dropped to her mouth, slid back up to her eyes. “You honestly don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
A tense silence ensued. He still wasn’t sure.
His proximity—so close she could raise her lips an inch and kiss him—was doing strange things to her. Like making her think about kissing him.
Down girl! “Jax, honest to God, either tell me what this is about or get out of my way.”
“Elliot escaped.”
The words buzzed inside her head, blurry, indistinct. “What?”
“He was in the medical ward after a fight and somehow ended up exchanging clothes with a guard and walking right out of the place. The guard is in serious condition, by the way, from a blow to the head.”
My God. If she hadn’t been backed up against the wall, she might have staggered. “Elliot would never do that.”
His eyes challenged her. “See that’s where you and I disagree. You think Elliot is this great guy. I know he’s a miserable, lying traitor who will do anything to cover his ass.”
Her jaw tightened. “There has to be a reason he would bail like that. He knew I was working on clearing his name. Why would he run?” On the heels of that unpleasant thought, came another. “Why didn’t my boss notify me about this?”
“Probably because the CIA knows you’re sympathetic to the douchecanoe.”
Her exasperation morphed into outright annoyance. Mostly because he was probably correct. “Why do you care? Why did you come here to tell me this? To rub it in that you’re right about my partner?”
“Ex-partner. He’s not worthy of the ground you walk on, and no, I didn’t come here to remind you he’s a worthless goatwaffle. I came here because I know you’re the first person he’ll run to for help.”
“That’s sweet, but he’s not stupid, and again, I don’t understand why you care if he does come running to me for help. You made sure he went to prison after Marrakech, but he’s no longer your problem, is he? He really was never your problem. You made him into a traitor, so while I’m sure it upsets you that he’s escaped, the Agency will find him. Go back to your life and forget about him. Forget about me.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth, even as her heart clenched. She didn’t mean it. If anything, she wanted the opposite. To the man who’d probably slept his way around the world, she wanted to be the one woman he would never forget.
The clean-shaven SEAL of six months ago was gone. He’d grown a short beard since she’d last seen him and her fingers itched to touch it. To feel the scratch of it against her skin. His focus—so intense it made gooseflesh rise on her arms—dropped to her lips. “I will never forget you.”
Bam. He’d read her mind.
Her heart stuttered. “Jax…”
He laid a finger against her lips. “Hear me out. I didn’t come here to fight with you, Ruby. I know you’re running an unsanctioned mission to find proof Elliot was innocent of the charges I brought against him, but you need to switch your focus and help me find him. He will come to you. You’re the only person that ever believed he was innocent to begin with, and while I respect that kind of loyalty, you could be in danger. You think I ruined your career? Honey, let me tell you, if you in any way assist a federal fugitive—this federal fugitive—I’ll make damn sure your ass lands in a prison cell next to his.”
Threats. Nice.
Her stuttering heart hardened. Thankfully, she was speechless. If she tried to say anything, she’d probably lose it, so she shoved at his chest, pushing all her emotions into it.
Her shove met a brick wall.
Once she’d loved his solidness, his strength. Currently, she found it annoying as hell.
Like everything else about him.
Training, dammit. Ruby could hear her boss yelling in her ear. Don’t let him see he got to you. Turn the tables on him.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she set her face to neutral, dropped her hands from his chest. “I’m not helping you hunt down my partner, which is not your
job anyway. You’re obsessed with Elliot because you’re jealous of him. Why won’t you own up to that?”
He traced her jaw with the same finger that had silenced her. “You think I’m jealous of Elliot Hayden?”
Her body shivered at the intimacy and she smacked his hand away. “You and I had a one-night stand, Jax, that’s all it was. One night. You wanted more and I refused. You thought you’d snap your fingers and I’d fall at your combat boots, and when the shit went down with Elliot and Abdel, you expected me to side with you. I didn’t and you still can’t believe it. You don’t respect the fact I’m loyal to my partner. You’re jealous of him.”
His chuckle was low and soft, raising goose bumps along her skin. “You want to know why I’m here watching your backside and asking for your help with Hayden?”
This should be good. The man was in total denial over his true motivations. “Why?”
“Because, honey.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her chin, raising more gooseflesh. “The CIA hired me to hunt him down.”
Chapter Two
_____________________
______________________________________________________
EITHER JAX’S CLOSENESS was screwing with her brain, or he’d officially gone wacko. “Why would the CIA hire you to hunt down Elliot?” Ruby asked.
A noisy couple passed them. Jax waited until they’d disappeared down the hallway to answer. “They’re keeping Hayden’s escape under wraps for the time being because they think he may have had insider help. They don’t know who or what is involved, could be one of their own. Your boss contacted my boss and requested me personally.”
That was crazy. He was no bounty hunter; he worked for some bodyguard service these days—a waste of his talents if you asked her.
But no one cared what she thought and she hadn’t missed the insinuation that the Agency thought she was the insider. “While your previous SEAL training makes you a good tracker, you’re a bodyguard now. The Agency has plenty of people better equipped to find Elliot.”
A derisive snort. “You always knew how to attack a guy’s ego.”
“This isn’t about ego. If the Agency hired you, there’s a reason.”
“Maybe because I know Hayden.” He brushed a finger along her jaw again. “And I know you.”
It was her turn for derision. Ignoring the heat flooding her lower belly, she jeered at him. “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. No one sees the real me. No one. That’s why I’m so damn good at my job.”
“Is that so?” His finger strayed to her throat, her collarbone, traced the edge of the V of her dress, dancing across her considerable cleavage. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I know how to make you howl at the moon, sweetheart.”
Gah. He would bring that up right now, trying to tilt her off center again. The full moon in Marrakech that night had been so beautiful, hanging, it seemed, right over their hut. The light coming through the window had created a perfect rectangle on the floor, where he’d laid her down and taken her. He’d teased her mercilessly with his tongue and fingers, bringing her right to the edge of her release, but never letting her go over until she’d begged him. Pleaded with him. He’d promised her earlier that evening that he’d make her howl and she’d scoffed at the idea. On the floor of the hut, in that bed of moonlight, he’d fulfilled his promise. She’d howled his name at the low-hanging moon when he’d finally given her what she wanted.
The rains had come shortly after that, sheltering them from the outside world. There were days, moments, she wished they’d never left.
She should have been out hunting down Mohammed Izala, and instead, she’d stayed inside the world Jax and the rain created. She ignored her mission. She had Izala’s coordinates, had a SEAL team waiting off the Strait who could capture him once she’d flushed him out of hiding.
But instead of following the lead her boss at Langley had sent her, she’d stayed in bed with Jaxon Sloan.
The worst of it was, even with everything that had happened since that night, she wouldn’t go back and change a thing.
Jax’s other hand slipped down over her hip, giving it a squeeze. He rubbed the silky material of her dress between his fingers, lifting it higher, brushing a leg against hers.
Her breath flew out in a rush, his touch was like no other. She couldn’t resist—even now, her body had a mind of its own. Melting into him, lowering her resistance.
Can’t breathe…
Have…to get away.
He knew her body inside and out after their one night together, but he didn’t know the first thing about the rest of her. Shoving him away, she slid from the wall and gulped a lungful of air, keeping one hand out as if that could hold him at bay. “I’m not helping you find Elliot.”
She turned on her heels and hustled for the back door. Adrenaline carried her, her ears peeled for the sound of him telling her to stop, her body anticipating the feel of his hands jerking her back.
He didn’t come after her, didn’t call her name.
Which was oddly disappointing.
At the door, she chanced a look back over her shoulder, saw him standing stock-still, one hand resting on the wall where she’d just been, his gaze on the floor. His muscled arm was covered with tattoos.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she said, letting her gaze roam over him. It could be the last time she ever saw him. She wanted to make sure she remembered every detail. “I don’t believe you’re a bodyguard.”
He didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge her. She burst out the door, setting off an alarm, and headed for the parking lot.
The night was warm. Too warm. Beads of sweat broke out along the back of her neck as she passed the couple from before getting handsy with each other near a black SUV. She wiped at a droplet of sweat that tracked down her neck.
Just like Marrakech.
No, it wasn’t. Nothing compared to the heat of Morocco. Not even a muggy night in Chicago.
She placed her thumb on the rental car’s digital lock and a second later was inside, pushing the start button. The Ford hybrid came to life and she jetted out of the lot.
Elliot escaped. Why? Why would he do that when he knew she was working at clearing his name? Tonight’s meeting with Little Gus would have put them one step closer…but now she was stalled again, thanks to Jax.
The man made her crazy. He was too big, too handsome, too assertive for his own good. To top it off, he was smart.
Damn smart.
Intelligent men did her in every time. Add a quick wit and a delicious body and she was screwed.
In all her years, she’d never found such a mix in any other man. The drop-dead gorgeous ones were full of themselves and never tried too hard even if they had a decent IQ. The overachieving geniuses, so focused on their minds, rarely paid attention to their looks.
But not Jax. No, siree. That man had it all—the looks, the smarts, the wordplay…she loved every minute with him, even when they were at each other’s throats.
The Marrakech mission had been like that. She’d found him annoying and overly confident when they’d started on their quest to pick up Abdel Al-Safari. A chemical weapons expert who contracted his services out to various terrorist groups, he had once worked for Saddam Hussein, eventually finding his way to Izala and the Moroccan 5.
She and Elliot had been assigned to covertly get him out of Morocco and to a secret facility in Spain for interrogation, but because Izala was a cunning, brutal terrorist, the Pentagon had insisted they take a Special Ops team with them.
A team of one, it turned out. While the rest of Jax’s team waited for them at the Strait of Gibraltar, Jax had accompanied her and Elliot across the African landscape to Marrakech. They’d picked up Al-Safari from the Moroccan spy agency and began the arduous task of moving him covertly out of the country.
Except on that fateful night, Al-Safari killed himself while Ruby and Jax were tearing up the sheets.
SINCE LITTLE GUS liked raucous, DJ-driven clu
bs rather than the sports bars and craft-beer pubs closer to his stomping grounds, Ruby wound her way out of downtown, past the tourist sites on Michigan and into the grittier section of the city. Traffic was moderately light, the Loop seeing more action than the streets. A nice change of pace, since, like any large city, Chicago had far too many cars and stoplights for her liking.
She also didn’t appreciate the car tailing her a block back.
Jax or Elliot?
Or was it someone else?
Too many enemies to count these days.
Losing the tail took her a few extra minutes, but it felt good to put her tradecraft to work rather than her body, and she lost the tail without any problem, taking off her wig at the same time.
If only clearing Elliot’s name were so easy.
Her apartment was modest, the most she could afford on her current salary. She parked in the tiny parking lot, the edges nearly overrun with wild bushes and trees, and secured her compact Sig Sauer into its holder on her thigh. Security wasn’t the greatest in this area, but the place rented by the month, and since she didn’t know how long this would take—plus her salary had been halved with her probation—she had to take what she could get.
Elevators were claustrophobic, so she took the un-air-conditioned stairs. Her modest one-bedroom was on the third floor and a little cardio would burn off the last of her adrenaline high.
The place allowed dogs and the smell of old urine and stale beer met her nose. Nerves still on edge from Jax’s appearance and the beat of the dance music still ringing in her ears, she nearly collided with her neighbor Dan as she went to open the third floor fire door.
He and Woodstock, his Pug mix, came flying through the heavy door and nearly toppled Ruby. She hit the wall with her back and Dan looked as surprised as she was.
“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder. His long, thin, red hair flew out around his head as he and the dog descended the stairwell. “Pee emergency!”
Ruby laughed as the fat Pug and her skinny owner barreled down the stairs. Not a lot of green grass around the place, but the overgrown lot behind the building served as the dog park.