by Katie Reus
“What did you find?” Samara asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
Evie turned her laptop around at the same time Dylan did. She grinned when she saw one of the same bank accounts she’d found on his laptop screen as well. “Someone has been a very naughty boy,” Evie said.
“He’s greedy is what he is,” Samara muttered.
Yep. Greedy indeed. “Are you ready for this?” Evie asked, looking at her friend.
They’d mostly worked out what they were going to do, how they were going to set the trap for their prey, but it would be tricky to bring down a veteran with the CIA. To bring down someone who had more experience than them. But they had to do it and they had to do this right. For an op like this to work, there was no room for error. Trent had already been picked up by the Feds and she trusted Georgina to keep him under lock and key for now.
And they’d texted the man they were going to bring down from Trent’s burner phone, telling him that Evie and Samara weren’t at Dylan’s house, but that Trent had a bead on where they were and was just trying to narrow it down. All part of laying out the trap.
Samara simply nodded. “I’m ready. He’s going down.” Then she pulled out an encrypted satellite phone and dialed a number. A few moments later she said, “I know what you did. And you’re going to clear out one of your black ops slush funds and put it into my offshore account.”
There was a long moment of silence as Samara listened to whatever their target was saying.
Then Samara gave a sharp grin. “I don’t care how hard it is to get it. You’ve done it before—something we both know. And you’ll do it again. You tried to have me killed. And now I know what you’ve done. You will pay me what I want. You’ve got twelve hours or I’m going public with what I know. I’ll send you the account number.” Then she hung up.
Evie shoved out a breath. “I hope that’s enough.”
“That’ll be enough,” Dylan said. “I believed you at least.”
Evie certainly hoped so. Right now they could be making the biggest mistake of their lives. But she would bet that he wouldn’t simply pay Samara the money. No, he’d come after her, try to kill her. He likely didn’t even believe the blackmail—which was the point of this setup.
“Now it’s your turn.” Samara handed the phone back to Evie.
Evie simply groaned and sat in the nearest chair next to Dylan’s desk.
“Don’t be a baby.”
“I’m not. Just thinking about the ramifications of all this,” Evie said even as she dialed a familiar number.
Georgina picked up on the second ring, sounding exhausted. “Who the hell is this and how do you have my number?”
“It’s me. I need a favor.”
There was a short pause. “Really, another one? Because I’ve got one of your ‘favors’ in holding right now, who I still haven’t charged with a crime. And I don’t even know why.” The federal agent’s voice was dry.
Yeah, Evie had called her and asked her to pick Trent up hours ago with the promise that she’d explain everything as soon as she could. That time had come. “I told you I’d explain why. Now I’ve got something that will get you a big bust. Absolutely huge. You might even get a promotion. But you’re not going to like it.”
“You’re killing me, Bishop. But I’m listening.”
Chapter 17
“He’s on a plane.” Evie ended the call as she set her cell phone on the dresser of the bedroom she would be staying in tonight. Not Dylan’s bed, and not in his house, unfortunately. But that couldn’t be helped. Their prey was going to come to them, no doubt. She knew he wouldn’t give in to blackmail and right now he probably assumed he had the upper hand.
Dylan looked out the window onto the quiet street. “I don’t like any of this.”
“He’s coming to Miami. That’s a good thing.” Setting up a sting operation here made the logistics of everything a lot easier than if they’d had to go to him. Luckily the traitor had made things easy on them.
Dylan shoved away from the window and moved toward her in long, angry strides. “I know. But he’s got to know this is a trap.”
“Yes. That’s kind of the whole point.”
His jaw tightened, that familiar look of frustration firmly in place. “The backup team will be too far away.”
She placed her hands on his chest. “He’s a pro. If they’re too close, he’ll know and this opportunity will be lost. We need to bring him down. I have a feeling this goes deeper than just stolen money.” Obviously, considering that he’d tried to have Samara and Evie killed. She still didn’t know why, not exactly, but she would get those answers.
Dylan rested his hands on her hips, pulling her close, his dark green eyes flashing with too many emotions. “Let me stay here, then.”
She ran her fingers up his chest, savoring the feel of his muscles underneath her fingertips before she clasped them behind his neck. “We’ve been over this,” she whispered.
“I don’t care.” His jaw was tight.
“You might be king of the world and fully capable of taking part in this op, but you are still a civilian. You can’t stay.” The FBI would never allow it. They would let him stay with them at the command center blocks away, but not here at the house. It was an impossibility. “Besides, he’s going to do a sweep of the house. If he sees more than two heat signatures, he’ll suspect something.”
Dylan frowned so she leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him hard.
He didn’t resist, his tongue tangling with hers as he backed her up to the closest wall. Samara was downstairs with their small team, getting ready for what was to come. Evie didn’t care about any of that. She simply needed this moment with Dylan.
Reaching out, she fumbled around until she turned the flimsy lock on the door. She didn’t care if everyone downstairs figured out what they were doing. She loved Dylan and she wanted him safe. She wanted this whole thing over so they could have a future—if he managed to forgive her.
Dylan would have to leave soon and she was going to wring every moment of pleasure out of the here and now. Because at the end of the day, she knew she might not survive this. That was always a chance on operations, that things would go sideways, and now was no different. Especially since they were toeing a very fine line with how they’d baited this trap. She was on a razor’s edge, hoping she didn’t fall. Because this time, no matter how capable he was, Dylan couldn’t catch her.
Dylan slid his hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head, kissing her hard enough to leave her lips swollen.
When he tore his mouth away, his expression was savage. “I can just kill him,” he growled. “Be done with this whole thing.”
She blinked, staring at him because…she believed him. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I? If he was dead, you’d be out of danger.” Pure, raw truth was in his voice.
She shuddered at his words, his protectiveness. It shouldn’t turn her on, but it did. “We can’t do that. Even if I want to take him out myself. We need to find out how deep his betrayal goes. Right now isn’t just about my safety. It’s about the safety of our country. He could be selling secrets. Hell, he probably is. There’s a reason he went after Samara and then me. He’s into something bad and we need to know everything. We need to know where he’s funneling his money.” Once that happened, everything else would unravel.
That was why her very first team leader had always told her to “follow the money.” They’d found some of their target’s accounts but it wasn’t enough. They needed more.
By his expression, she knew Dylan didn’t like what she was saying but he also didn’t argue with her. Instead, he kissed her again.
She let herself fall into the kiss and into his embrace as he reached for the hem of her shirt. She needed all of him right now. This was more than about wanting a simple connection; she was desperate for Dylan’s touch, his kisses.
Greedily, she reached for the buckle of his pants, shoving at his clothing a
s he shoved at hers.
She felt manic, frenzied. With him it had always been too much and never enough. Dear God, it was never enough. He had a hold on her and had from the moment they’d met. It hadn’t mattered that she’d been undercover. She hadn’t been acting with him. Not about her feelings. She’d never even intended to sleep with him, just get him to take her out on a few dates and make introductions. But it was like he’d reached inside her soul and seen the real her.
He went down on his knees as he yanked off her pants, completely undressing her. Then he grabbed her calf and threw her leg over his shoulder.
“Dylan.” She barely got his name out before his mouth was between her legs, teasing her slick folds.
She arched off the wall, rolling her hips against his face. His tongue was wicked and perfect. So very perfect.
Her nipples tightened even as her clit pulsed, needing more pressure. She felt as if all her nerve endings were tightened in awareness as he flicked his tongue along her folds. Teased and tortured.
She slid her fingers through his hair, wondering how she would live without him if he couldn’t forgive her. She had to tell him the truth and she would. As soon as this operation was over. For now, she would enjoy every second of this, memorize every moment and hold on to him for as long as she could.
She needed to have her head on straight, and if he rejected her later, her mind would be all haywire. No, she would tell him tomorrow. Or hell, later tonight. However long it took to get this thing done.
“You are so wet,” he rasped out.
“Always, for you.” She could barely get the words out as he slid a finger inside her. The man drove her absolutely crazy with need.
He added another finger and began stroking, sliding them in and out of her as he focused on her clit.
There it was. His tongue was the perfect pressure. “Hell,” she groaned.
“Say my name,” he growled against her sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a vibration of pleasure through her.
He was always so damn demanding and she found it incredibly sexy. “Dylan,” she moaned, keeping her voice as low as she could. Screw it if anyone could hear them. She needed this and so did he.
Anything could happen in the next few hours.
He increased his pressure on her clit, driving her insane as he buried another finger inside her. That sent her completely over the edge, her orgasm peaking so sharp and fast she hadn’t been ready for it.
As he stood up, she practically jumped him, wrapping her arms around him as he shoved her up against the wall. She arched into him, her breasts rubbing against his chest as he grabbed the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up.
Positioning himself, he drove deep inside her, a groan tearing from his throat. Her inner walls tightened around him as he began thrusting inside her.
She felt filled by him in more ways than one. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes as he thrust over and over, harder and harder. Like if he fucked her hard enough, he could infuse himself into her body and heart so that when he left, she would still know he was with her. She didn’t want to let him go tonight, but she had to.
The outcome of tonight mattered. Dylan mattered too, more than anyone or anything. But this had to be done.
She kissed him, nipping his bottom lip as he cupped one of her breasts. His thrusts were hard but his caresses gentle, the contradiction making all the muscles in her body pull taut.
Everything he did was absolute perfection. She could barely wrap her head around this connection between them, this fire and heat that spread everywhere.
When he reached between their bodies and tweaked her clit again, little tremors started deep inside her. That first climax had barely taken the edge off. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to get off a second time, but she was already beginning the climb as he continued thrusting.
“Come,” he demanded.
Everything with him was always a demand.
And her body wanted to obey, wanted to give him exactly what he demanded. Her orgasm slammed through her, this one sharper than before. In that moment he let himself go, coming inside her, groaning her name as he buried his face against her neck.
She felt their wetness against her inner thighs as he held her in place, pinning her to the wall. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, breathing hard, wrapped up in each other. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want this to end yet. Didn’t want to pull away.
Finally he unwound her legs and gently set her on the floor. Her knees were weak as he continued kissing her, pushing her back up against the wall as he dominated her mouth.
She sank into it, clutching him in desperation. She didn’t want to wipe his scent away from her, didn’t want to step away from him to clean up, didn’t want to leave him at all. Because deep down she was terrified this might be the last time they would ever be together.
Because even if she survived tonight, she didn’t know if she would survive the heartbreak of Dylan’s rejection. She just had to hold on to the hope that he would find it in his heart to forgive her for what she’d done.
To understand why she’d done what she’d done. And to give her a second chance.
Chapter 18
Six months ago
Dylan smiled at Evie as she stepped out onto the patio. He’d had the most expensive caterer in town set up everything. He’d known she wouldn’t want any type of public spectacle and he didn’t like his life on display, regardless. They were very much alike that way, he’d come to realize. She valued her privacy as much as he did. Unlike some of the women he’d dated in the past who had relished being in the gossip section, linked to him and his money, Evie was a private woman who came from money. He knew she wasn’t after his, which was something he usually had to worry about. And she hated the spotlight.
She gave him a confused look as she glanced at the spread of gourmet cheeses, fruit, crackers and mini desserts. A bottle of champagne was chilling in the bucket and there were two glasses on the table.
He knew without a doubt this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with—and he wanted to spend the rest of their lives peeling back all of her complex layers, getting to know everything about her. Evie Bishop was a one-of-a-kind woman.
“You look beautiful,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, confusion still lingering in her eyes. But she leaned up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his.
“Evie, there’s something I want to ask you.” His heart was racing as he went down on one knee and pulled the jewelry box out of his pocket. Normally he knew what the outcome of something would be, and while he was almost positive she would say yes, doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. She kept him on his toes, kept him guessing what would come out of her mouth all the time. And he wanted to lock her down, to make it clear to everyone that she was taken.
Evie’s eyes widened, her face paling. “No,” she whispered, her expression stricken.
He frowned. “Evie?”
She was shaking her head as she tugged him to his feet. “No, Dylan. Please, no.”
His gut twisted as if she’d physically punched him—with a sledgehammer.
“No, don’t propose to you?”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she shook her head. “I didn’t know… I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was the first time he’d seen her cry since they’d met. The raw anguish on her face confused him.
He tried to push away the hurt her rejection caused. “Why not?”
“Dylan, we’ve been having so much fun. The last six months have been incredible. But… We can’t get married.”
Feeling numb, he shoved the ring back in his pocket. “We can’t?”
“I…” She looked around the patio, glancing up at the sparkling twinkle lights he had set up for tonight. She looked sick as she stared at everything, her expression full of horror.
Horror, really? How could he have read her so wro
ng? How could he have read the situation so badly? He was ready to take the next step with her, wanted to have a full, long life with Evie.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” she blurted, making this so much worse.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what the hell to do. How to react. He sat in one of the nearest chairs at the table, at a total loss. “How can this surprise you? You had to know we were building to this.”
“I’m sorry. I’m moving back to DC soon. This…this would never work.” She turned and fled back inside.
He wanted to go after her, to demand answers. But what the hell was he going to do? Ask her why she wouldn’t marry him? The reason didn’t matter. Clearly she didn’t feel the same way he did.
Gutted, he reached out and opened the champagne bottle, the pop of the cork overly loud. He’d planned to open it after she said yes, to celebrate the beginning of their life together. He registered the foam spilling over his fingers but didn’t move to clean it up. Completely out of character, he took a swig straight from the bottle. What the hell had just happened?
He was vaguely aware of Leo stepping outside, looking at him with surprise and then pity.
The pity was too much.
“She’s gone,” Leo murmured. “Left in her car.”
Throat tight, he shoved to his feet, not looking at his head of security—his friend. “Make sure someone cleans this up. I don’t want to see it.” Bottle still in hand, he stalked back inside. Some small part of him hoped that maybe Evie would still be there. But he wasn’t sure why. He had nothing more to say to her right now.
Seeing her would just shove the knife deeper in his chest.
He didn’t understand what had just happened. He knew she cared for him, thought she’d loved him as much as he loved her. Clearly that wasn’t enough. And he didn’t understand why.