by Lee Taylor
Tatiana flushed a lovely shade of rosy pink and smiled at him. “Really, Zane? I’m all of those things to you?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I think because your public face is so contained—face it, so shy and reserved—that when you reveal yourself to me in the unexpected ways you do, I’m stunned. Which makes those hidden layers of you I’m discovering so damned exciting. And makes me determined to mine those layers if it takes me a lifetime to do it.”
****
As they were nearing her house, Tatiana couldn’t keep from asking the question she’d been wrestling with since the end of the extraordinary dinner with his friends. “Zane, do you really think that Marjorie Cabot was serious? That the national ABA might actually invite me to address their annual convention?”
“Sweetheart, let me tell you, Marjorie Cabot is one of the fiercest women I know. She’s also one of the most strategic. Clearly, she thinks that your mission is critically important and one that the legal profession needs to address. As for her seriousness, she told me that you can expect a formal invitation from the ABA within a week.”
Turning onto her driveway, Zane was deciding how to negotiate taking the babysitter home. Once he did that, he planned to convince Tatiana that a “nightcap” on her deck would be a fitting conclusion to a fabulous evening. That was before he heard Tatiana’s shocked gasp. Turning to her, he was alarmed when he saw her facial expression. She could have been encased in a cylinder of ice, the terror freezing her face and body was so intense.
Chapter 21
What’s wrong, Tatiana? God, baby, what is it?”
Tatiana shook her head fiercely and stammered as she reached for the door handle. “Nothing . . . uh . . . nothing is wrong, Zane. But you need to go. Now.” When he stared at her, she visibly trembled, trying to explain her startling command. Opening the door and preparing to jump out of the car, she sucked in an audible breath and appealed to him. “Please, Zane. Please understand. I need you to go. Now!”
Before he could answer, she was running toward the door, her key in her hand. Unfortunately, the key wasn’t necessary. The door swung open, revealing a large, heavyset man in the doorway.
Leaping out of the still humming Bentley, Zane hit his keyfob and was at Tatiana’s side in seconds. It didn’t take the expression on the glowering man’s flushed countenance to understand Tatiana’s untoward reaction. Zane had seen pictures of Tatiana’s ex-husband. He’d even met him once. But the bleary-eyed, clearly infuriated man filling the doorway was several levels of hell meaner looking than Zane remembered.
Tatiana’s voice was strained. “What are you doing here?”
When the sneering man just glared at her, Tatiana said more firmly, “Why are you here? You need to go, now!” Then, almost as an afterthought, her voice rose in fear. “Where is Jennifer? Did . . . did something happen to her?”
The big man snorted. “Where the fuck you think she is? I sent her home. My kids don’t need a fucking babysitter. That’s why they have their father.”
Zane stepped up beside Tatiana and wrapped his arm securely around her waist. Shocked at how hard she was shaking, he held her at his side, then moved in front of her. Glaring at the sweating man in the doorway, he said coolly, “Tatiana asked you a question. Answer her. What are you doing here?”
Arnold turned toward him as if seeing him for the first time. His flushed face darkened dangerously and his eyes flashed angrily. Glaring at Zane, he snarled, “The more important question is what the hell are you doing here? Butt out, asshole. This doesn’t concern you.”
At that moment, a pajama-clad Marcie appeared at the top of the stairs. She was clinging to the railing and her voice shook. “Momma, Daddy made Jennifer go home. She . . . she was crying. She didn’t want to go.”
With a horrified cry, Tatiana shoved past the snarling man and ran toward the stairs. Before Arnold could go after her, Zane stepped forward and caught his arm in an iron grip. He had a good two inches on the irate man, but the fucker had to outweigh him by forty to fifty pounds. Fortunately, it was fat, not muscle. Relying on his highly trained body and the fact that he wasn’t drunk or drugged out like Loomis was, Zane shoved the fulminating man against the doorjamb.
“Listen up, asshole. As for whether this little drama concerns me, I’ll make that decision.” He added grimly, “Not to put too fine a point on it, I’m making it my business. You heard Tatiana. Get the hell out of here. Now.”
Arnold reared forward, spittle spraying from his mouth. Shoving a hard finger into Zane’s chest, he bellowed, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Just because you’re fucking her doesn’t mean that you can kick her husband and children’s father out of what should be my house!”
Zane grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it up against his back, gratified at the ominous cracking sound. Ignoring the surprised man’s shattered screams, Zane smashed Arnold’s face against the wall. Calling on his Muay Thai master’s sage adage, “attack where there is a pulse,” Zane buried his thumb in the raging man’s neck. Pressing against the exquisitely sensitive pressure point hard enough to cause unbearable pain, Zane brought the sobbing man to his knees. Loomis’s shrieking cries were so loud, Zane had to raise his voice to be heard.
Jerking Arnold’s head back with his free hand, Zane intoned in a voice strafed with danger, “Listen up, asshole. Regardless of what my relationship with Tatiana is or isn’t, it’s none of your business. To be clear, you have ten seconds to get in your car and drive the hell out of here.” Calling after the staggering man, who was screaming a barrage of expletive-laden threats as he lurched to his car, Zane bellowed, “And, asshole, show up here again, not only will you never use that arm again but you’ll be pissing blood every time you take a piss for the rest of your sorry life.”
Dragging in a harsh breath, Zane looked up to see Tatiana, Marcie, and now Max huddled together at the top of the stairs. All three of them were staring at him wide-eyed. Swiping at the tears on her face, Marcie looked up at her mother. “Daddy scared me, Momma. He scared Jennifer too. She was crying. She didn’t want to leave us, but Daddy made her go.”
Tatiana dragged in an audible breath and straightened her shoulders. Hugging her children next to her, she met Zane’s fierce glare. Obviously forcing herself to sound calm, she spoke to her children. “It’s okay now. Everything is going to be all right. I’m here now, darlings.” Meeting his gaze, she bit down on her bottom lip. “Please, Zane. Go.” She blew out a sigh. “Thank you for making him leave. But . . . I’m okay now. We all are. I . . . I want you to go. I need to take care of my children.”
Zane held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded in agreement. “Yes, Tatiana, you do need to take care of them.”
He walked to the front door, then closed and locked it. Ignoring her while she still stood at the top of the stairs, he went to the cabinet behind the sofa and studied the array of bottles. Taking out a bottle of Maker’s Mark, he poured himself a full glass of the amber liquor and sank onto the overstuffed chair by the sofa. He heard Tatiana’s gasp, then her quiet, consoling murmurs as she led her small children into their bedroom, closing the door behind them.
****
Zane had consumed most of the strong liquor in his glass when he heard the bedroom door open and then close. He looked up to see Tatiana standing on the staircase landing. She squared her shoulders, then as if making a decision, walked slowly down the stairs. She stood behind the chair across from him and leaned against it for support. Pressing her lips together in a determined line, she said firmly, “I’m sorry you had to observe that, Zane. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to go. I need to be alone with my children.”
Zane met her tense gaze and nodded contemplatively. Taking a studied sip of his drink, he said, “Two things, Tatiana. One, I’m not sorry I observed what I did. In fact, I’m damn glad I did. Two, you may think you need to be alone, but that isn’t an option.” He pointed with his glass to the chair across from him and nodded. “Sit down.”
When she hesitated, then shook her head no, he said coolly, “I said sit down, Tatiana. Now, before you fall down.”
Biting on her swollen bottom lip, she blew out a hard sigh, then rounded the chair and sank onto it.
Without asking, Zane went to the liquor cabinet and retrieved another glass and the bottle of Maker’s Mark. Setting the glass on the coffee table in front of her, he poured a healthy portion in it and refilled his glass. Raising it to her, he motioned for her to do the same. Tatiana hesitated, then picked up the glass and took a wary sip. Zane resumed his seat and was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his words were measured, contained. “Does your father or your sisters know?”
She paled, then asked in a strained voice, “Know what?”
“That your former husband is stalking you?”
She shook her head fiercely and glared at him. “No, they don’t, and . . . they mustn’t!”
When he frowned at her, she said frantically, “You don’t understand, Zane. That’s what Arnold wants. He knows that my father would kill him if he knew what he was doing.”
Zane studied her through narrowed eyes and then asked carefully, “What is Arnold doing, Tatiana? That your father would kill him if he found out?”
She shook her head and rose to her feet. Striding across the floor, she ran her hands distractedly through her flurry of curls. When she turned to face him, her expression was fierce. “You don’t understand. He . . . he’s just trying to scare me. He’s angry at my family. He thinks that if it wasn’t for them, especially my dad and Tanya, I never would have divorced him. But that isn’t true. That’s not why I made him leave.”
“Why did you make him leave, Tatiana?”
She met his gaze and managed to stop chewing on her lip that was already streaked with blood. “Because I didn’t love him, and I. . . . I didn’t want to be with him.”
“Hmm. I imagine he took that rather hard.”
“Yes, he did. But it’s over now. We’re divorced and I have sole custody of my children.”
Zane nodded, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “And he blames your family, not you, for those facts?”
She slammed her eyes closed and then appealed to him. “No . . . he’s also angry with me. But . . . Zane, you need to hear me. If my father found out that Arnold was bothering me, you have no idea what he would do.”
Zane snorted softly. “Don’t be too sure of that, Tatiana. I know what I’m likely to do and I’m just now becoming aware of the situation.”
Tatiana whirled on him, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks. “Damn you. You don’t understand. There is no situation. And if there is, I . . . I have it under control.” Seeing his frown, she was fierce. “Please, Zane. Listen to me.” Sinking onto her chair, she leaned toward him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her voice harsh with intent. “I need you to hear me. And I need you to honor my request.” Her voice rose, strafed with fervor. “You need to promise me that you will never tell my father or my sisters what happened tonight. Or . . . or I promise you, I will never speak to you again. Ever, as long as I live.”
Zane raised a questioning brow and then, acknowledging her anguished distress, he said judiciously, “For the moment, Tatiana, against my better judgment, I will honor your request.”
When she breathed an audible sigh of relief, his murmur was banked with danger. “But, sweetheart, if you think your father is a fearsome son of a bitch when anyone threatens the people he loves, you haven’t seen anything yet. I have a feeling it won’t be long until you’ll be turning to that fierce sheriff for respite.” He shoved out a sigh that was closer to a groan. “That said, know that you now have me on your tail. I’ve ordered my investigators to put a twenty-four-hour surveillance on you and your children.”
Horrified, she raised her hands and appealed to him. “Please. Please don’t do that, Zane. It will just make him . . . make Arnold angry.”
Zane sat forward in his chair and reached for her hands, forcing her to meet his fierce gaze. The quiet fury underlying his words was as obvious to him as he hoped it was to her. “I hope it does, Tatiana. I hope to God it does. And when it does, and he comes within a mile of you, the son of a bitch won’t know what hit him. Just so you know, on your behalf, and Max’s and Marcie’s, I’ve also ordered a ‘no-contact protective order’ prohibiting your former husband from calling, texting, e-mailing, stalking, or in any way contacting you or your children. One misstep and I’ll throw his ass in jail. And yes, Tatiana, at that point I will bring your father into the equation.”
When she started to protest, he raised his hands, stopping her. “Just know that taking these measures without bringing the sheriff’s department into the issue flies in the face of every instinct I have. It’s against every shred of my professional and personal judgment. But so help me God, Tatiana, that fucking son of a bitch gets within a mile of you or Max or Marcie, and all bets are off. In your wildest nightmares, you cannot imagine the wrath of the sheriff of Cochise County combined with the fury of its district attorney.”
When she just shook her head and closed her eyes with a soft groan, he rose to his feet and reached for her hand. Pulling her out of her chair, he dragged her into his embrace. “Come here.” Lifting her chin, he glared at her. “Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is for me to leave you tonight? Do you, Tatiana? Do you have a fucking inkling of what it is going to take to keep me from chasing that son of a bitch to ground and teaching him a lesson he’ll never forget?”
Holding her chin in his fierce grip, he forced her to look at him. “Do you, Tatiana? Do you know what an unhinged former special operative does to a man who threatens the woman he’s falling in love with?” At her shocked gasp, he shook his head and blew out a hard sigh. “Christ, don’t even try to answer that.” He pulled her closer to him and murmured, “Instead, get that classy ass of yours into bed.” He tugged her close and murmured against her cheek, “Just know that a fierce man and his righteous minions are guarding every breath you take.”
Moments later, the door closed behind him and he was gone.
****
After Zane put the protective measures in place and talked with the officer he’d assigned to head up the detail, he punched in a number. Knowing that was all it would take to rouse the FBI agent and former special operative, he wasn’t surprised to hear Ryker’s wide-awake growl. “This better be good, asshole. Tanya is just resting, waiting for the next four or five orgasms I promised her.”
“Put it on the back burner, buddy. Meet me at the B n’ T. Now.”
Chapter 22
Holy Christ, man, do you have a fucking clue what Titus Theseus Trouble will do when he finds out you excluded him from this op? The op to prevent his former son-in-law from stalking, hell, from hurting his daughter and grandchildren?”
Zane groaned. “As in hanging my nutsack from the flag post at City Hall? Among other creative tortures he will gleefully inflict?” Zane shook his head and said with a hard sigh, “Yeah, Ryker, I have a damn good idea what Titus will do when he finds out. I can only hope that by the time he does, I will have that motherfucker Loomis so far up shit creek that even Titus can’t get to him.”
Tossing back the shot of Jameson on the bar and pouring them both another, Zane shook his head. “Hell, man, as if I’m not already risking my manhood stiffing the sheriff and, I should add, his deputy daughter, I’m also dragging you into it. Jesus, Ryker, I’m sorry. The only reason I am is because I need your Special Ops expertise. Like me, you and Griffin know the intricacies of an undercover op. Even my most capable men just don’t have the experience to pull off as delicate a mission as this one is sure to be.”
“Speaking of Griffin . . . ”
Zane nodded at the tall, dark-haired, mega-developer striding toward them and said to Ryker, “Yeah, man, I took your advice and called him in. It seemed only fair that if you were likely to be singing in the choir along with me, it wouldn’t hurt to have all three of us filling ou
t the soprano section.”
Tossing Zane a fearsome glower, Ryker muttered as he reached for Griffin’s hand, “Welcome aboard, buddy, to the worst damn ship you’ve ever sailed on.” Glaring at Zane, he growled, “As for you, asshole, remember what Henry the Fourth discovered, ‘heavy is the head who wears the crown.’ Sure as hell hope you’re prepared for the ninety-nine-percent chance that this crazy mission you’ve dragged us into is likely to destroy us all. At least Griffin and I can claim that we were trying to prevent a lovesick Seal from going overboard, but all you can claim is that you allowed your dick brain to overrule any semblance of sanity you might have had.”
“Honest to God, Ryker, if you saw what I saw tonight, I promise you would know I’m not overreacting. That fucking son of a bitch Loomis was waiting for her to come home. Waiting inside of her house, for God’s sake. According to Marcie, who was obviously frightened out of her skin, her ‘daddy’ sent their babysitter home in tears. Which makes it clear that Loomis expected Tatiana to come home alone. You can be goddamned sure he didn’t expect me.” He grunted in bitter satisfaction. “Trust me, he’ll be remembering me for a hell of a long time—every time he tries to raises his fucking arm above his head. I introduced him to some Muay Thai pressure point moves that will make him wish I’d broken his arm. At least then he could put it in a cast and maybe reduce some of the pain.”
He shook his head, not able to hide how deeply troubled he was. “Damn, I can’t tell you how shocked I was to see him standing in the doorway as if he belonged there! He’s clearly been stalking her, Christ, make that terrorizing her, for God knows how long. But goddammit, dudes, the hardest thing for me to accept is that she never fucking told me.”
Dragging his hands though his hair, he glared at his friends. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is for me to know she is in danger and that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me? Can you understand that? And to top it off, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell her father. How fucking compromising is that?”