by Cynthia Eden
“Should we follow them?” Linc cranked the SUV.
“No.” Blair reached out a hand and touched his wrist. “We know where he’ll be tomorrow. Give the man his time with her. If he comes with us, this could be the last night they have together. Let them have that.”
“You are such a romantic,” he teased her.
She just sighed.
And Cole was about to agree. He was about to say that they should get the hell out of there and leave but…
Then a black car slid away from the curve. It wasn’t moving too fast. Not too slow, either. And it slid away without turning on its lights. Yeah, like that wasn’t suspicious. The car went to the intersection and turned right. Exactly the way the limo had just gone.
The tension that Cole felt in his gut coiled tighter. “Follow that car.”
“Already on it,” Linc muttered as he got their SUV moving. They hurried after the car, trailed it for a few turns, long enough to let them know that, hell, yes, the jerk was following James but then—
The mystery car sped up. Shot forward with a burst of speed as it ran right through a red light. Linc floored it to follow, but then a big rig’s blasting horn had him slamming on the brakes.
They all lurched forward against their seatbelts. By the time the big rig was gone…
The mystery car was gone, too. This is not good. “Get to James’s place,” Cole said. “Now.”
But when they got there, when they searched the block, there was no sign of the vehicle that had been tailing the limo.
Chapter Eight
“Thanks for bringing me here. I appreciate it.” Tess rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. “I have a shift that starts at seven a.m. tomorrow, and if I’d been at a hotel, I don’t think I would have slept well.” Try…at all.
“You don’t have anything to worry about here. No one will get past my security system.”
That was good to know. But… “Are you sure?” It was certainly easy enough to say only—
“Sweetheart, I’m not bluffing. I know my security.” He moved toward the windows. Tapped on the glass. “Bulletproof. Just in case you were wondering.”
“I had not been wondering that.” Not at all. They were on the second floor. She hadn’t even thought about… “Wait, why do you have bulletproof windows? Do people shoot at you a lot?”
His hand curled into a fist. “More than you might expect.”
She rushed toward him. “What kind of answer is that?” Now she was afraid again, but not for herself. For him.
His head cocked. “An honest one?”
“Club owners get shot at often?”
“I try not to get shot at. But things can happen, and I like to be prepared.” Now his hand lifted toward her. His knuckles caressed her cheek.
She flinched. Not because he’d hurt or scared her, but because when he touched her, a bolt of heat slid over her skin.
But, immediately, he stopped touching her. He moved around her. Put some space between them. “You can take the guest room. You don’t have to worry about me bothering you tonight. You’ll be safe. You can get your rest.” He marched away from her as she turned to stare after him. “Tomorrow, my driver can take you to work. While you’re at the hospital, I’ll make sure your security system is up and running.”
His back was to her as he walked away. Since he wasn’t staring straight at her, it was easier for her to say, “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again.”
He stopped. Tess caught the stiffening of his shoulders.
“You told me we were done. Then I showed up at your club. This is really going above and beyond for an ex-lover.”
He turned on his heel. A crisp, almost military-like move. “I didn’t say we were done.”
“No?” It had felt that way. When he walked out and the door closed.
“I told you the rules were changing. If you came to me again, I’d want more. That playtime would be over.”
Goosebumps rose on her skin. “Is that what you think I was doing with you? Playing?”
He gazed back at her.
“I wasn’t playing with you.”
“Good.”
He didn’t say anything else. “What do you want from me?”
Now he stalked forward.
She sucked in a quick, nervous breath as he stopped right before her.
“Sweetheart, isn’t it obvious?” His smile made her heart race. “I want everything.”
***
If he wanted everything, why was she sleeping alone?
Tess tossed and turned in the guest bedroom, and her fist pounded at the pillow. Not because it wasn’t comfortable. The whole bed felt like some kind of perfect dang cloud. No, she was punching her pillow because…
Why am I punching the pillow?
After he’d told her that he wanted everything, James had escorted her to the guest room.
First, she hadn’t needed an escort. She knew where the room was.
And, second, he’d left her? They touched, and they went full-on inferno mode. But he’d left her.
So much for rules changing.
She flopped onto her back. Maybe she should have said something. She knew—deep down—what he wanted. And hadn’t Latonya told her that she’d have to do this? But she’d been afraid. What if he doesn’t like the real me?
Whatever. She was going to face him. Tess tossed aside her covers and jumped out of the bed. She marched straight out of the guest room and headed for his bedroom. She lifted her fist, squared her shoulders, and knocked as hard as she—
The door was instantly yanked open. “What’s wrong?” James stood before her. His chest was bare—wonderfully muscled and bare as he wore what appeared to be a pair of silk, black pajama bottoms. His hair was tousled and sexy, and he was…
Scars.
She blinked. Her eyes widened.
He swore. “Give me a second. Let me grab a shirt—”
He turned away from her and she saw his back. More scars.
“Oh, God.” Her hand reached out to touch him.
But James spun and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t.” His hold was tight. Not painful. He’d never had a painful hold with her. Their eyes locked.
She realized right then—during all the wild times that they’d been together—she’d never actually seen him without his shirt on. And when he had taken off the shirt, they’d been in the dark. He’d caught her hands any time that she’d tried to touch him on his chest or back. In her head, she remembered him catching her wrists and anchoring them with his hold. Now she realized he’d stopped her before she could feel the scars that marked him in so many places.
He’d let her touch his shoulders. His arms.
Not his chest. Not his back.
He’d been so careful, and she hadn’t even realized it.
A tear leaked from her eye.
“Don’t,” James snarled. His hold tightened. “Do not cry because of them.”
“There are so many marks.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t hurt.” He let her go. Whirled away. Paced toward the bed.
Tess didn’t move from her position in the doorway. She was rooted to the spot. “You hid them from me.”
He laughed. A bitter sound. “Did I?”
“You know you did.”
His head cocked toward her. “Maybe I thought if you saw them, you’d run.”
“I’m not running.”
Another bitter laugh. “No, but you’re scared to death, aren’t you? Because you’re looking at them and you’re trying to figure out…how the hell did he get all of those marks? You’re a doctor. I bet you even know what most of them are, don’t you?”
“James—”
He touched a slash near his belly button. “Knife wound.” A puckered indention near his ribcage. “Gunshot.” He moved his hand to a third scar, one above his right hip. “Barely a graze from the bullet there, but enough to leave a reminder of—”
“Stop.” Her head was pounding. There were so many scar
s. Knife wounds. Bullet wounds. How had a club owner gotten—
“I guess it’s only fair that you see my secrets when I wanted to know yours. But, actually, sweetheart, I’ve been honest with you from the start.”
A former assassin turned nightclub owner. No, no, that wasn’t possible. “No.”
“I even told you that I worked for Uncle Sam.”
When he’d told her that his soul was dark and damaged.
“You’re the only person I’ve been that honest with. Because something about you—you were different. I told you the truth, but you didn’t believe me.”
Her hand rose to press over her racing heart. She was wearing one of his t-shirts—he’d given it to her after escorting her to the guest room. The shirt was soft and huge, and it fell to the middle of her thighs. As she stood there before him, wearing it, smelling of him, Tess felt vulnerable. And very, very—
“Scared of me now?” His voice was rougher. “Why? I’m the same man, Tess. The same man I was when I was fucking you. The same man I was when you were screaming as you came for me.”
She took a step back.
He took a step forward. “The same man I was when you came to me because you were afraid.”
“James…” No, no, there was no way that he was really some kind of assassin, right? “You’re not—”
An alarm began to beep. A fast, furious beep. He swore and hurried past her. Tess shook her head, swiped at the tear on her cheek, and rushed after him. He turned to the right and entered his office. He went to the computer and typed in a quick code. A moment later, she could see a crystal-clear image on one of the two, giant monitors.
“Isn’t that the guy we met at your club?” Tess asked as she frowned at the image. “His name was—”
“Cole Vincent. And he shouldn’t be here.” He yanked out his phone and tapped on the screen. A moment later, he ordered, “Cole, get your ass off my doorstep. I’m not talking about the offer tonight.”
Offer?
“Go crash at your hotel and leave me alone.”
Cole leaned toward the door, and when he spoke, his voice filled the room. “I’m not here about Wilde.” He looked over his shoulder and then back at the door. “I’m here about the asshole who tried to tail you home from the club. Now how about you play nicely and open the door?”
James was typing on the computer’s keyboard and pulling up more images on both of the computer monitors. She hadn’t even noticed the cameras outside, but Tess could have sworn it looked like James was accessing about three different street view cameras.
“Who’s the backup with you?” James demanded.
She squinted at the screen and at the dark SUV that was idling about half a block away.
“Wilde agents,” Cole answered.
“All of you—get in here, now.” James ended the connection. On the screen, though, she saw Cole pull out his phone.
Then James rose and turned toward her.
She hadn’t backed up, so when he turned, their bodies brushed. His nostrils flared, as if he was pulling in her scent. Then he sidestepped. Moved away from her.
“You should go back to the guest room. I’ll deal with Cole.”
“Seriously. You’re trying to dismiss me? We were kind of in the middle of an important discussion. A discussion about you being—”
“A former assassin. Yeah, that’s what I am. Or was. I told you that already. There’s not much else to say. The work I did for Uncle Sam was classified. I don’t get to share. Hell, I’m not the sharing sort, anyway.”
Neither was she, but his words still made her ache.
“So that’s who has been touching you, sweetheart. The hands that have been on you? They are a killer’s hands. But then, you realized that, didn’t you? I could see it in your eyes, as soon as you found my scars. I could see the understanding of what I was in the way you pulled back from me. You’re scared as hell now, and you know what? Maybe you should be. Maybe you—”
She grabbed him. Locked her hands around his shoulders and stood on her toes as she glared at him. “How about you don’t tell me how I feel? How about that?”
His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—baby, dammit, I don’t want you afraid of me. I know what I am. I know how the world sees me. I’m a monster, straight to my core.”
“That really what you think you are?”
“It’s what I know I am.”
“That’s not what I see.” Tess yanked his head down toward her. Her mouth slammed into his as she kissed him with a wild fury. Frustration. Desire. Need. But not fear.
Because he’s not the only killer in the room.
Even as that thought registered, Tess shoved against his chest.
He let her go, but watched her with blazing, golden eyes.
“I’m not afraid of you.” Her voice came out too husky.
“No? Because I think you’re a—”
“Don’t you dare call me a liar.” Now she was ice cold.
A pounding knock came, seeming to echo through the whole place.
His head jerked at the sound. “You don’t need to be here when we talk. This is just about Wilde and I—”
“I don’t know who Wilde is, but I do know that if you were followed tonight—if we were followed—then I am definitely listening to the conversation. Someone broke into my house. What if that person followed me to your club? And then what if I just brought the jerk to your home?”
His jaw hardened.
“I’m not hiding in the guest room.”
His gaze dipped over her. “How about you at least put on some pants? Because if Cole is staring at your legs, I’ll have to kick his ass, and that will slow down the whole ‘conversation’ as you called it.”
Fine. She spun and stormed for the guest room.
“Tess, why’d you kiss me?”
“Because you fucking needed kissing,” she snapped back. And I needed to kiss you.
***
“This is Wilde Agent Lincoln Dalton.” Cole waved to the guy in battered jeans, a black t-shirt, and a bomber jacket.
Lincoln inclined his head. “Friends call me Linc.”
“Do I look like your friend?” James wanted to know. Yeah, he was in a real pisser of a mood and taking out his rage on everyone.
Instead of appearing annoyed or offended, Lincoln’s lips twitched.
“What in the hell are you even doing at my place?” I need to calm down. Dial this way back.
Cole cleared his throat. “I’m currently introducing you to the team.” He waved his hand toward the brunette in the black dress pants and green sweater. A woman with a classical, sophisticated beauty. “This is Blair Kincaid.”
The name clicked. So did the woman’s face. James offered his hand to her. “Heard about the work you did down in Mexico. Ballsy as hell of you to go in there and get those women out with the full force of the cartel surrounding you.”
“I didn’t think it was ballsy. It was desperate.” She shook his hand, then let go. “If I hadn’t gone in, they would have never come out.” Her gaze swept over him. “But just how did you hear about that? Because that case was before Wilde, and it was supposed to be a classified job.”
He shrugged. He’d actually been in Mexico at the time, scheduled for a hit under Uncle Sam’s orders. He’d had an up-close view of Blair Kincaid because she’d slipped under his scope’s view. That was why he knew her face. She’d once been in his cross-hairs. Not his target, she was one of the good ones.
Even as she’d rushed those women to safety, he’d taken out the leader of the cartel.
“Okay, so now that the names are out of the way…” Cole squared his shoulders. “Where can we talk privately? Without your guest interrupting and—”
Footsteps padded toward them, cutting right through Cole’s words.
James didn’t glance over his shoulder. He waited for Tess to join the group. When she walked past him, he saw that she was wearing her jeans and loose top again. Her hair was still dow
n, all tousled and sexy. She hadn’t paused to put on shoes. His eyes narrowed when he saw the blue polish gleaming on her cute little toes. The polish was new. The last time he’d seen her, Tess’s toes had been painted red.
“I don’t think I’m the one interrupting,” Tess clarified crisply. “I mean, I was here first.” Her gaze swept them all. “I think I missed the introductions. I’m Tess.”
Cole cleared his throat. “Well, I’m Cole. Though you already knew that.” He pointed to his left. “This is—”
“Linc.” The guy flashed her a slow smile. “At your service.”
“And I’m Blair.” Blair walked forward and offered her hand to Tess. They shook. “Nice to meet you. Though I am terribly sorry that we crashed in during the night.”
Lincoln—hell, Linc—frowned. “We always crash on people during the night. That’s like our thing.”
“Ignore him,” Blair instructed. “Or, try to.”
James could feel his temples throbbing. “Could we just cut to the chase? You’re all interrupting. Tess and I were busy.”
“I bet,” Cole muttered.
James looked at him. Just looked.
“Fuck. Sorry. Was that out loud?”
“Well, it wasn’t silent,” Linc assured him. “That’s for certain.”
He did not have the time for these assholes. “The tail. Who was it?” And how had I missed him?
Tess moved closer to him. Her arm brushed his.
Awareness surged through James.
Ah, right. That would be how. He’d be extra freaking vigilant from now on. When Tess was near, she occupied too much of his attention.
“We don’t know who he was. After you, ah, waved good-bye to our group here…” Cole lifted his hand and waved…with his middle finger extended a bit. “We watched you drive away. We figured you were good for the night, but then a black car—”
“With no plates,” Blair added.
“—took off after you. We tailed the car, but the driver made us. And ditched us.”
James lifted a brow. “You were ditched? I expected more from Wilde.”
A shrug from Cole. “I wasn’t driving.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake.” Linc narrowed his eyes. “Let’s not point fingers. I mean, the jerk ran through the light. A big rig was coming right at me. I’m sorry I stopped to save everyone. My bad. And, can we not overlook the fact that this fellow here—Mr. Big and Bad—didn’t even notice the tail? I mean, I thought you were this legend. I thought you were this unstoppable machine of—”