by Cynthia Eden
“Because you’re afraid.”
“I…” She was afraid, yes. But… “You said no.”
“I meant…” His words were halting. “No, you didn’t need to leave the door open. If you didn’t want to be alone, then I would just come in here with you.”
She stared at him.
He smiled at her.
Hold up. Had he smiled before? She couldn’t remember, but his smile had some of the tension sliding from her shoulders. “That’s really sweet of you.”
His smile slipped.
Right. He hated being called sweet. Salty. “I appreciate it,” she quickly corrected.
“Try to sleep.”
Her hair was hanging forward and she was half-off the bed. She pushed back. Settled against her pillows. Her hands slid over the sheets. Smoothed them unnecessarily.
“I’m glad you’re…okay.” Again, his voice was halting. “I would never want anything bad to happen to you.”
That made two of them. Not like she wanted something horrible to happen, either. Not to her. Not to any of the people she cared about. Like Whitney. “Do you think…” She licked dry lips. “Is this what happened to Whitney? She was taken. Maybe tossed into a car. Driven away.” Killed?
“Your friend Whitney…” He stopped.
She rolled toward him. “My friend Whitney—what?”
“How well did you really know her?”
The question caught her off-guard. “As well as you can know someone, I suppose. I mean, we all have secrets.” Wasn’t that the way of things?
“What secrets do you have?”
“Tell me yours,” she heard herself say, “and maybe I’ll tell you a few of mine.”
Silence.
Fine. She took that as a no. It was not secret-sharing time.
“Whitney frequented a bar about thirty miles away. It’s a hangout for criminals and people looking to hire criminals for dirty jobs.” A pause. “Since you hired me, I’ve spent some time looking into her life. Tracing her last steps. Got a few acquaintances who knew some info about her—like that she visited Ramsey’s every Friday. Just like clockwork.”
Ramsey’s. The name clicked. Relief filled her. “That wasn’t something shady. That was just research.”
“What?”
“Research. She told me that she wanted to get more field work under her belt. She’d been going to Ramsey’s to observe—”
“Ramsey’s isn’t a place where you go to have a damn tea party,” he rumbled.
“Whitney didn’t go there for tea. She had an interest in criminal psychology.” Once more, her fingers slid over the sheets.
“You get that her interest might have led to her disappearance?”
No, because she’d been so sure that Clay—
Maisey stopped the thought. She’d wanted to find proof of Clay’s guilt or innocence. Odin was telling her there might be other suspects. “We’ll go to Ramsey’s?”
“I was planning to go tomorrow—”
“We’ll go,” she said definitely. “Because you said you were going to be staying extra close to me, remember? What better way than to take me with you?” Maisey held her breath.
“Tricky,” Odin finally said. “Fine. You go with me. But you do not leave my sight, not even for a second, got it?”
“Got it.” She slid onto her back and smiled up at the ceiling. All too quickly, her smile fled. The moments seemed to slowly tick past. Maisey strained but she couldn’t even hear the sound of Odin breathing. Carefully, she inched over to the side of the bed and cast a quick glance down at—
He was staring right up at her. His hands were behind his head. The blanket fell around his hips.
“Hi,” Odin told her softly.
Her stomach did a little quiver. “Hi.”
“Still can’t sleep?”
She was wired. Her fingers kept wanting to tremble. “I’ve never been nearly abducted before.”
“You’ll crash and when you do, it will be hard.” A pause. “You know I won’t let this happen again?”
Because he was staying close. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the mattress. “I don’t want to let this happen again. I need to learn how to protect myself.” She would be enrolling in a self-defense class, ASAP. She should also buy some mace. Maybe a knife that she could hide in her bag or even a taser. There were even taser-like guns, weren’t there?
“I’ll teach you. I can show you moves that will make a man twice your size cry like a baby.”
That sounded promising.
“War taught Rose, and the tricks he showed her damn well came in handy.”
Rose. The name was familiar. Rose Shadow had been the reporter who’d first led Maisey to Odin—or rather, to Trouble for Hire Investigations.
“The trick is that you can’t be afraid of hurting your opponent. You can’t hold back.” A pause. “Though it’s always the fucking opposite for me.”
“I don’t understand.” She was still peering down at him.
One hand moved from behind his head. He held his hand up to her. Stretched out his fingers. “Put yours against mine.”
She did. A shiver darted through her.
“I’ve always been bigger. Stronger. Holding back is the only way I don’t hurt people. That’s why I made my rules.”
Her fingers slid over a little. Curled with his. She wasn’t even sure why she’d done that, but now they were holding hands. She expected him to pull away.
He didn’t.
“What are your rules?” Maisey asked, curious. A heavy lethargy pulled at her, and she yawned.
“Don’t ever hit first. One hit from me can be enough to knock someone out. So I make sure the person I’m fighting has it coming.”
That seemed like a good rule. “What else?”
“Finish the fight. Never walk away when your opponent can still attack.” A beat of silence. “If you show mercy to the wrong person, it can come back to bite you in the ass.”
She thought of the scars on his chest. “Is that what happened to you? Did you show the wrong person mercy?”
His hand pulled away from hers. “If we keep talking, you won’t ever get to sleep.”
She’d liked holding his hand. But he didn’t want to talk anymore, she got that. Maybe she’d pushed too hard. She’d been getting him to reveal personal information, but she hadn’t told him much about herself. “I like solving mysteries,” Maisey admitted. She let her eyes drift closed.
“I did notice that about you,” he murmured.
“Want to know why?” Another yawn. Hmmm. Maybe Odin had been right. Maybe she was about to crash.
“Why?”
“Because I’m a mystery.” Her breath rustled out. “Don’t know where I came from. Just appeared at the hospital. Left right outside the emergency room doors.” She’d always wanted to find her birth parents. She never had. “The local sheriff and his wife raised me. Pop sure loved solving mysteries, too.” But he was gone now. So was her mom. Some days she missed them so much it just physically hurt.
“Maisey?”
“Thank you for making sure I’m not alone.” Sleep pulled at her. “Night, Odin.”
Silence. So much silence that she was drifting off just as—
“Good night, sweetheart.”
***
“Odin!” The scream tore from her.
“Right here.” His hand closed over hers.
Her heart stuttered. “He was coming for me again.”
“Only a dream. A bad dream.” His hold tightened. “I’m right here. No one is taking you. I swear it.”
She drifted back to sleep.
***
Sunlight trickled through the blinds. Maisey rolled over and slowly stretched. Then she carefully peeked over the edge of the bed.
No Odin.
Her gaze darted around the room. The blankets had been neatly folded and placed on her reading chair, with the pillow stacked on top. But there was no sign of her PI. “Odin?” She slip
ped from the bed. Shoved her hair out of her eyes and headed for the bathroom. Maybe he was in the kitchen, getting some breakfast.
She swung open the bathroom door. It took her sleep-fuzzed mind a moment too long to process the scene before her.
The blurry form of a man behind her foggy shower door…
Steam drifted in the air around her. Steam, but there was no water because he’d just turned off the shower and he was—
Opening the glass shower door.
“Odin!” Her cry of alarm came too late. Maisey got a full-frontal view. Full, frontal, and fabulous because obviously that had not been a cold shower. Oh, no, mega hot. Not just because of the steam in the air but because of—
“Wanna hand me a towel?”
She grabbed a nearby towel and threw it at him. She didn’t even wait to see if he caught it. Maisey had already spun around. “I am so sorry! I had no idea you were in here. I—” I should go. I should definitely go.
“I’m covered.”
Immediately, she looked back.
Gah. Why had she looked back? Now the towel was draped over his hips, but beads of moisture darted their way over that amazing muscled chest of his and down his abs. Abs for days and days…
“Feel free to have your turn.” He motioned for the shower. “And since I know how much you like for things to be…even…” He winked at her. “Maybe I’ll get my turn, too.”
What was he talking about—oh, right. Their first kiss. Then their second. And her saying they needed to be even and… “Are you asking to see me naked?” Her mind was not functioning properly. She hadn’t gotten even a sip of coffee yet. It was too early for this.
Or…maybe not early enough?
He closed in on her. “Why?” His hand curled under her chin. A careful, tender touch. “Are you offering?”
Chapter Eight
She was beautiful first thing in the morning. Maisey’s thick hair tumbled around her shoulders, gently tousled. Her eyes were wide, her plump lips parted, and all Odin wanted to do was lean forward and pull her against him.
“Are you teasing me right now?”
He straightened. He had been leaning forward. “I don’t tease. Ask any of my friends.” They’d laugh their asses off at the very idea.
“I haven’t met any of your friends. So it’s hard for me to ask them.” Her gaze dipped down his body. Lingered. Warmed. The gold in her eyes seemed to burn brighter.
Well, well… “Like what you see?”
“Very much,” she replied instantly even as she did a quick, fanning motion with her hand. “But I’m sure you get compliments from women all the time. I’m sure they tell you how much they’d love to lick the water off your abs and—”
A laugh sputtered out of him.
Her eyes closed.
His hand rose and pressed to her cheek. “Can’t say anyone has ever told me that before.” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed, either. He brushed his lips over her forehead. The caress seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. But his laughter faded as he eased back. Because suddenly, he did have an image of Maisey licking the water off his abs. Only in that image, her mouth dipped lower and lower. She tugged the towel from his hips and her mouth went right to his—
“I should shower. Get dressed,” Maisey blurted.
Ah, so she hadn’t been offering to get naked for him. Too bad. His hand slid away from her silken skin. “When you change your mind, you let me know.” He brushed past her. His body had to press against hers. The bathroom was small. He was big.
She was perfect.
“Change my mind—about what?”
He looked back at her. “Letting me see you naked.”
Maisey gulped. “You…were serious.”
Had she doubted that? Maybe he should make certain they were crystal clear. “We’ve been dancing around things so far. A few kisses.”
Her nose scrunched. “I thought they were pretty good kisses.”
Damn fantastic. “Those are the preliminaries. But if I get you naked, if you’re standing in front of me and I get to see every single inch of you, I’m gonna want to touch.”
She swallowed.
“Then taste. Lick and kiss.” His voice roughened. “Then I’ll want to fuck.”
“That’s, um, quite the order of operations you have going there.”
What was it about her that made him feel so good? His dick was shoving against the towel, making a freaking tent that she had to see, and even though he wanted her like mad, her words still made him want to smile.
She didn’t get it. He wasn’t the smiling type. Odin wasn’t the guy who did the easy jokes and laughed all the time. He had a buddy who covered that bill. Odin was the serious one. The too-intense one. The one who never seemed to fit so well with crowds and who always said stupid shit to women.
Except…
Maisey makes everything feel different.
He released a breath. Ignored his aching dick, for the moment. “If you’re standing before me, naked, offering your body to me, I will fucking take it.” Bald. Flat. A warning. “I won’t pull back the way I’ve done after a few kisses. You cross that line, you take that step, and I will devour you.”
She didn’t move.
He did. It was either get the hell out of there or pounce on her. He stalked from the bathroom. Shut the door. Then glared down at his eager dick.
***
Maisey stared at the door.
I will devour you. Before he’d left, she’d had to clamp her lips together to hold back her instinctive response of, Promises, promises.
Now she focused on breathing. Nice, slow breaths. Steam still drifted in the air around her. Oh, no. That would not do. She didn’t need anything to make her hotter. She was feeling more than hot and bothered enough, thanks.
Maisey spun and marched for the shower. She yanked on the water. The very, very cold water.
I will devour you.
***
“This place doesn’t look so bad.” Nightfall had just swept over the area. The day had passed in a whirlwind of activity. Odin had gone with her to get a new laptop. He’d trailed her back to campus where they’d reviewed security footage and found absolutely nothing useful. They’d followed Clay for a while. Again, they’d turned up nothing overly useful.
And now it was time for the big event. A trip to Ramsey’s. The graveled parking lot was filled with a variety of vehicles. Sports cars, trucks, motorcycles. Some extremely high end. Some looking as if they’d fall apart if you blew on them too hard. Thick woods surrounded the long, flat building. No other businesses were nearby. As she slowly approached the entrance—and the two bouncers who sat on tall, black stools—the loud scream of music blasted from inside of Ramsey’s.
Maisey hadn’t exactly been sure how to dress for this occasion. She’d fretted over the outfit for a good thirty minutes because she had wanted to be certain she blended. After three changes, she’d finally settled for a pair of old jeans, ripped on the left thigh, and a form-fitting, black top. She’d gone with red high heels, too, because she needed to sex it up a bit, didn’t she?
Maybe?
Odin had looked at her outfit and just grunted.
He hadn’t seemed to care what he wore. Jeans. T-shirt. Boots. Done. She’d discovered that was just his typical outfit. Maisey had to admit, it worked for him. Sexy. Kind of an effortless sexiness.
He was at her side as they headed for the bouncers. She offered them a big, friendly smile.
“Dim it,” Odin muttered as he bent his head and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He hauled her up against him.
Dim it? Her smile slipped.
The bouncers were sweeping their gazes over her.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” one said.
“That’s because I haven’t come here before,” Odin snapped back.
“Wasn’t talking to you,” the guy fired. He had a smirk on his face as he let his gaze dart over Maisey. Looked like he w
as in his early twenties, with bright blond, almost white hair. He wore a thick, leather coat even though it was helluva hot and, as always, the humidity in the area was killer.
Odin moved in front of her. Positioned himself so that he loomed over the bouncer on his stool. “I’m talking to you, asshole,” Odin told him.
Oh. So he was going to play the scene aggressively? Fair enough. The people in the club would probably respect that kind of approach. She tried to realign her posture so she looked tougher, too.
“She’s with me.” Odin’s voice rang out. “Me. Got it? So if I’m not here, she’s not here. Now open the fucking door and let us in.”
Odin was way bigger than the white-haired bouncer.
The other bouncer laughed at the exchange. “Dumbass,” he said, not to Odin, but to the shriveled-up guy in the coat. “Never pick on someone three times your size.” He hopped off his stool and opened the door for Odin. “Sorry, man. He’s still new. Thinks he has something to prove.”
Odin didn’t move. “Don’t screw with me again,” he ordered the blond.
Since the door was open, Maisey crept over to slip inside—
Odin’s arm came around her shoulders again. He brushed his mouth over her cheek then whispered in her ear, “Did we forget the plan?”
The plan…for her to stick close to him. She was close to him so Maisey fired him a disgruntled look. But then they were heading inside, and she was so busy taking everything in that she stopped worrying about Odin and just studied the scene.
Wow. No wonder Whitney had been coming there for research. The place was packed. Money was exchanging hands—she could see the sly trade-offs beneath the tables. And the guys on the right, the ones over there playing pool and drinking beers from long-necked bottles—she recognized some of their tats. They were part of a local motorcycle group that—
“Don’t stare too long. They’ll think you’re interested. They’ll come over. I’ll have to correct their wrong assumptions. That correction will involve ass kicking.”
Now he had her attention once more. Maisey’s head whipped back toward him. “What about rule one?”