by Cynthia Eden
Her lips tightened. “What do you do for fun, Rick?”
“I handcuff myself to mob princesses.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Fine. I chase down bad guys. I kick some ass. Then I usually call it a night.” His shoulders rose and fell, stretching the black t-shirt that he wore. “I’m not into the dance club scene.” Hardly. He didn’t know how to dance and would probably trip if he tried. “I don’t tend to blend so well with the suits and the bullshitters.” Understatement of the century. He lifted a brow. “But let me guess, you love that scene, huh? Your favorite thing?”
Her hand pressed to the cold window pane. “I have no idea. But I imagine it would be fun to find out.”
Now she’d lost him. “What do you mean? I thought you partied it up on a regular basis—”
“I thought we’d covered that you had to stop believing the things you read. Why on earth would my dad let me go to clubs to party? For my entire life, I had guards close by. Especially after Jimmy.”
“Jimmy?” The name seemed to burn in his throat.
“He was the boy I told you about, when I was seventeen…” Her voice trailed away. He hated the whisper of sadness that came into her voice. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “Clubbing wasn’t allowed. Parties weren’t allowed. I was a prisoner before my dad died…” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Just like I’m a prisoner now.”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“Liar, liar.”
“Kat.”
“Tell it to the handcuffs, okay?”
He actually felt his cheeks burn. Rick shifted closer. About a foot separated them now. It was the closest he’d been to her all day long. “You’re here for your protection.”
“My dad used to say the same thing. That I couldn’t go to a regular school for my protection. That I’d be targeted by his enemies out there. So I had to stay home. He had tutors brought to me. I couldn’t go out to parties because his enemies would attack me. They’d use me against him. I had to stay locked away. I was trapped while everyone else was living.”
There was so much pain in her words. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that it was okay. But it wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay for her. Killers were after her. Her life was on the line.
Her voice rose a little as she told him, “So, yeah, when you call me princess…maybe you’re right, but not in the way you think. If anything, I’m like Rapunzel. I was trapped in a freaking tower all my life, and I’ve never really been free.” Her hand still pressed to the glass but her gaze was totally on him.
“If you were locked away, how’d you learn to drive a motorcycle so well?” There were so many mysteries tied to Kat.
A smile tugged at her lips. “I learned because my guards got bored over the years. When you’ve got felons and killers dodging your steps, you learn the most interesting things.”
“I’ll bet.” He’d never met another woman like her. She fascinated him.
“I learned how to hotwire any car out there. How to drive fast and hard—whether you’re on a motorcycle, in the getaway vehicle that is a boring old sedan or anything else you can get your hands on. I know how to shoot. I know how to make a bomb.” Her smile was gone. Her voice had turned brittle. “I know how to inflict maximum pain when I want to make someone suffer. I learned all the best things in life.”
His hands flexed. He wanted to hold her. Just hold her.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Don’t pity me.”
He…he ached for her. He wanted to kick the ass of everyone who’d hurt her, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the whole friggin’ world. Was that pity? Rick didn’t think so. He was afraid to look too closely at just what he felt.
“You know what?” Kat muttered. “I think that’s more than enough sharing for now. Because I’m standing here telling you everything about me, but I know pretty much nothing about you. Except that, you know, you like protecting and defending. It’s your whole way of life.”
His phone gave a little peal of sound. He turned away, snagged it from the table he’d put it on earlier, and read the text from Cole. He hurried toward the control panel and disabled the alarm. The alarm system covered both the first and second floors. “Cole’s here,” Rick said as he stared at the panel. “He’ll be up in a few moments.”
“Cole.” She repeated the name. “He’s the badass one with the tats.”
Rick’s jaw locked as he moved to face her again. “Yeah.”
She gave a little nod. “I rather liked his ink.”
“Don’t,” he growled.
“Don’t—what? Sorry, but you’ll have to be a little more specific if you’re going to give me a new rule to memorize.”
“Don’t think about sleeping with him.” Shit. Had he just said that? Yep, judging by her widening eyes, he had. Fuck me. If only he could snatch those words right back. He always said the wrong shit. Charming, he wasn’t.
“Uh, I wasn’t planning to sleep with Cole.” She straightened. Her hand didn’t press to the pane any longer. “What…is that supposed to be rule number eight? Don’t sleep with your badass partner Cole?”
“It’s…shit, yeah, it’s a rule. Don’t sleep with him.” Why was he so freaking jealous? What in the hell was happening to him?
“Someone sure got pissy awfully fast. And insulting.”
She’d just called him pissy. Wonderful. He was obviously wowing her and making Kat realize what a catch he was. How do I get this conversation back on track? Though, had it ever really been on track?
She lifted her chin. “Is that what you think? That if I couldn’t sleep with you, I would head on to the next guy on the list? Move right along until I found a willing participant?”
He didn’t answer. No way was he answering that.
But she stalked toward him. Without her high heels, he towered over her even more.
“Listen up, sweet cheeks,” she snapped at him. “I wasn’t looking for just anyone. If anyone would’ve worked for me, I could’ve hooked up with one of the Feds. Trust me, they were willing. Especially Brisk.”
Rick knew there had been a reason he didn’t like that guy. Brisk had seemed to get way too close to Kat at that meeting in Wilde.
“I didn’t want him,” Kat continued doggedly. Angrily. “I wanted you. I reacted that way only to you. But thanks like hell for insulting me.”
She spun away.
His hand flew out and curled around her wrist. He hadn’t meant to insult her. He was just a damn dick. “I’m…jealous.”
“No, you’re a jackass.”
“Guilty. I’m both.” His hold tightened. “I don’t want to think of you with other men.”
She glanced at him and then rolled her eyes. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me. I liked that about you.” A huff. “We’re strangers. Strangers who kind of explode when we touch—”
He could feel the electricity surging between them again. Again? Try always.
“But you don’t know me, Rick, not really, and I don’t know you. So don’t try to act like you’re already jealous and—”
“If I told you I was thinking about sleeping with someone else right now, how would you feel?”
Her eyes blazed. “I’d feel like scratching that chick’s eyes right out.”
At least I’m not alone in this mess. He tugged her closer. “When I think about you and another man…that shit messes me up. I want to rip apart any asshole who gets too close to you and not because I’m supposed to be your bodyguard. Because I’m getting too possessive around you.” Everything was moving too fast between them. Too fast. Too intense. Too consuming. He was trying to hold back, when, in truth, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go.
“We just met,” Kat murmured.
Yeah, but it didn’t feel that way. Maybe because they only had a week together. Maybe because everything between them would always move fast. “I don’t understa
nd why we feel this way about each other,” Rick continued as he fought to find the right words. With her, the right words mattered. “I’ve never reacted so strongly to another person.” The intensity of his reaction to her floored him. “But when I think about you with anyone else—Cole or Brisk or even someone from your past—I see red. I want you. I want my hands on you. My mouth on you. But I know you aren’t meant for me. I’m trying to play by the rules here, don’t you see that?”
“You and your rules.” Kat shook her head, sending her hair dancing over her shoulders. “Screw the rules.” She leaned up toward him. Her mouth was so close. Her full lips tempted. “Maybe we should take what we want.”
“I want you,” he growled against her mouth. “Baby, I want—”
The door opened. A whistle filled the air. “Seriously, man?” Cole called out. “A second time? I mean, sure, I got that the first time might have been because of the adrenaline rush and all but…ah…”
Rick lifted his head. Locked eyes with Cole.
But Cole ignored Rick’s shut-the-hell-up glare and kept right on talking as he exclaimed, “You have never been this handsy with anyone before. I mean, you’re the rule follower. The one who is always telling everyone else you don’t mix business and pleasure. You toe the line, you don’t want what you can’t have, you—”
“Stop oversharing, Cole,” Rick snarled. He let go of Kat. Took a step back. Her scent followed him. The heat of her body seemed to still press to him. He took a breath and tasted her. Dammit. Dammit. He was losing control.
“Stop making out with the client,” Cole tossed back as he turned and secured the lock. He reset the alarm. Not like it was his first time there. Cole always made himself at home when he came to Rick’s place. He sauntered toward them, and his stare raked Kat. She’d wrapped her arms around her stomach and moved to stand closer to the counter.
She looked fragile. Beautiful. Sexy as hell.
Cole gave another whistle.
“Cole,” Rick warned.
Cole’s face turned hard as he kept staring at Kat. Well, harder than normal. He looked angry. Suspicious. Then Cole raked a hand over his face. “Rick, we need to talk. Alone.”
“It’s my life you’re talking about.” Kat’s voice was quiet but firm. “I think I deserve to hear whatever you’ve got to say.”
Cole shook his head. “This is Wilde business. And I want to talk to Rick only.”
She didn’t move. “Did you find Ghost?”
“No. The shooter vanished. If it was Ghost, he got away.”
She bit her lower lip. “Did anyone else show up at the cabin?”
“Not after you left. But one of the techs said your tracking device stopped transmitting after Rick smashed it to hell, so that was probably a tip-off to those hunting you. We got it up and running as fast as we could, but that brief transmission interruption could’ve been enough to alert the folks monitoring you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “They probably suspected the tracker had been found, and they watched from a distance, not wanting to expose themselves.”
“If they were watching from a distance…” Her chest rose and fell too quickly. “What if you were followed here?”
“I wasn’t.” Cole was utterly confident.
“How do you know? Someone could’ve tailed you from the farmhouse. He’s called Ghost for a reason, you know. He could’ve been on your trail the whole time, and you wouldn’t know.”
“I wasn’t followed.”
Kat didn’t look convinced. “What if someone is tracking your car? Maybe the shooter tagged it before he fired that shot at Rick!”
“No. My ride was swept.”
Standard procedure at Wilde. The vehicles were always checked for tracking devices. And explosives. But Rick didn’t mention that particular detail. No sense alarming her more than was necessary.
“Besides,” Cole told her, “I changed cars before I came here. This isn’t my first rodeo. No one followed me. Your location is a secret. We’re good.”
Her gaze darted to the window. As Rick watched, her hand lifted to fiddle with her pearls. Only the pearls weren’t there any longer. He knew that holding her pearls—touching them when she was nervous—was an old habit and his gut clenched. The memory of her crying as her pearls broke was etched into his mind. Talk about feeling like a grade A-asshole.
Her fingers touched the bare skin of her neck. He saw the flutter of her lashes. A quick flash of pain right before her hand dropped.
“I really need to talk with you, Rick,” Cole groused. “Now.”
“We can go downstairs.” He pinned Kat with a hard glance. “You’ll be fine up here. No one is going to get to you. Just—maybe grab something to eat. You can watch some TV. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t say anything as he and Cole hurriedly made their way downstairs. But leaving her caused a strange ache in Rick’s chest.
On the first floor, the bar waited for them. Quiet and still. And it didn’t take long for Cole to fire his first shot as he snapped, “Tell me you know how dangerous it is to fuck with a woman like her.”
Rick rounded on him. “I’m not fucking her.” But I want to.
“Not yet, maybe. But it would take a blind man to miss the tension between you two. When I found you at the farmhouse, you were locked tight to her and it looked like you never wanted to let go.”
Yeah, well…you try tasting a slice of paradise and just giving that shit up.
“Then I go in tonight…hell, man, it would be obvious to anyone that you wanted to gobble her up.”
Every muscle was tight with tension. “I can do my job.”
Cole’s gaze measured him. “Not like you’d be the first agent to fall for a client. Hell, it’s a trend at Wilde. All the cool kids are doing it.”
“I’m not falling for Kat. I’m doing my job.”
Cole stared back at him. “You can’t trust her.”
“I’m not trusting her.”
“The FBI knows about the tracker in her pearls. Eric talked to his buddy there. The agents who were guarding her—Bryan Brisk and Tom Wayne—are in some deep shit because they should’ve figured out about the tracker but they didn’t.”
Yeah, they should’ve figured it out. The fact that they hadn’t made Rick suspicious. Am I suspicious…or do I just not like Brisk?
Cole blew out a hard breath. “Though now that the Feds understand how she was located, it looks like there wasn’t a leak on their end, so they are wanting—”
“They are not getting her back.” The low response rumbled from him and cut through Cole’s words.
Cole blinked. “Uh…they don’t want her back. They want you to get intel from her.”
Rick wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“Eric got the order about an hour ago, though I have to wonder if the Feds didn’t intend this shit the whole time.”
“What shit? Explain yourself, man.”
His lips thinned. “The idea is that Kat O’Shaughnessy is keeping secrets from the Feds, but she might just share those secrets with someone else…someone who is close to her.”
He didn’t like where this was going.
“Kat isn’t the client,” Cole muttered. He looked uncomfortable. “Look, don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just passing along what I was told. The Feds are the clients here. And they want us—you—to work Kat. They dropped a bombshell to Eric that twenty million dollars is missing from her father’s accounts. They think Kat knows where the money is hidden. They think that she knows plenty she isn’t telling.”
“She’s scheduled to go to court and testify about a million damn things. From where I stand, the woman is cooperating.” I told her I wouldn’t lie.
“It’s Agent Brisk that you need to talk with, okay? He’s saying…the Feds think there is more going on. They don’t want to be blindsided by her in a courtroom. They want someone to get close and make sure all of her secrets are out before she gets in front of a judge.” The faint lines near
Cole’s mouth deepened. “And they want to make sure that Kat isn’t sitting on twenty million, just waiting for the right moment to vanish before she ever gets to a courtroom.”
What a cluster. “I’m supposed to keep her alive. My job is to keep her safe, not to learn the woman’s secrets.”
Cole’s lips curled down. “Unfortunately, it looks like your job might be to do both.”
***
There were certain things that Kat excelled at in this world. Like she’d told Rick, her babysitters had basically been hired thugs and killers. Her skills were on the super shady side.
Bake a cake? Oh, no, the thing would not rise. And it would taste like crap. Live life with a green thumb? Get a garden to grow and flowers to bloom? Nope, she killed what she touched. Anything on the softer side of life wasn’t for her.
But…
She knew more than a few tricks to help her pass time.
Her father had wanted her locked away. Wanted to make sure that she lived in some kind of suffocating cage. She’d been fourteen the first time she learned how to sneak out of her room and get down the stairs without making a sound. She’d wanted to be close to him. Wanted to see what her dad was doing.
So, unfortunately, she’d been fourteen the first time she saw him order a hit on someone.
The kind of memories that warped you for life, yes.
But she’d kept her sneaky skills. Rick wanted her to play nicely and just sit upstairs while he had a big chat with Cole? Not happening. She gave them a few moments to head down the stairs, then she tip-toed after them. She’d made a note of any squeaky steps when she’d first gone up the stairs with him, and now she was able to slip down without making even a whisper of sound.
She didn’t like that Cole wanted to be alone with Rick. Like she’d told them, this was her life. She had a right to know what was happening. So she eased in close and she heard every single word.
“I’m supposed to keep her alive,” Rick said. “My job is to keep her safe, not to learn the woman’s secrets.”