Deanna Lee & Jenna Howard

The Zodiac Series Scorpio Deanna Lee and Jenna Howard

The Zodiac Series Scorpio Deanna Lee and Jenna Howard (c) 2005 ISBN 1-59578-161-7 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Deanna Lee and Jenna Howard. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email: [email protected] Editor Terri Schaefer Cover Artist April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

She Was a Showgirl Deanna Lee

Dedication For my mom—who bought me a typewriter when I told her I wanted to write a book. For Barry—who STILL sings one hell of a song!

Chapter One Blood. It was the only thing she could think, the only thing she could see. It contrasted vividly against the white carpet of Phil Moretti’s executive office. Anthony Gallo lay bleeding to death on the floor in front of her. Horrified but trying to be brave, she left the bathroom where she’d been hiding and went to him. His head had moved slightly; words and blood spilled from his mouth. “Run, Lola.” “I’ll call someone.” She grasped his hand in panicky fingers. “No. I’m dead already. You have to run.” He pressed a digital recorder into her hand. “Go.” “I can’t leave you like this. I can’t.” “Run, damn you.” **** Lola bolted upright in bed and drew in a ragged breath. She took in all four walls of her studio apartment in one swift glance, looked at the door and relaxed. Pushing aside the covers, she crawled from the single bed and walked into the tiny closet that served as the bathroom. The reflection of her face in the mirror gave her no illusions. She looked like what she was, a woman who’d been on the run for a year. Her hair needed trimming, her skin was dull, and her full lips were prominent on her face. Brushing fingers that used to be soft over the dark circles under her eyes, she wondered if she’d ever be safe. The Zodiac Hotel and Casino was her past; today she was Mandy Barrister. Sweet, unaffected Mandy Barrister who worked two shifts a day waiting tables, flirted with the customers, and never took more than a tip. Her boss would have told you she was a model employee, if you could get him to admit she worked for him. She’d worked at Sid’s Café in downtown Chicago for three months, off the books. One look at her face and hard- hearted Sid would have agreed to anything. He figured she was running from an ex-husband or lover. Little did he know that she was running from a mobster named Phil Moretti. Maybe he would have still hired her, but Lola didn’t take chances. She’d stuck to the same story with eve ry city she’d been in. It was easier to answer to now; a part of her could almost forget that she wasn’t Mandy Barrister from Miami. **** “Hey, what’s your sign?” Lola turned and grinned. “Oscar, that line is a bit outdated.” Oscar tapped his newspaper. “Come on, play a little.” She topped off his coffee and replied with a smile. “I’m a Cancer.” Oscar ran his finger down the column of the paper. “Let’s see… ah… sounds good. With the sun rising in your house, romance is in the air. A man will enter your life and take your problems for his. Sit back and enjoy. He’ll be a keeper.” He grinned. “See, it’s in the stars, Mandy, so when are you going to run away with me?” She offered him a friendly smile, cleared his area of the counter efficiently, and

pretended to think over his offer. “Oscar, you’ve got grandchildren older than me!” Lola pocketed tips from two other place settings along the counter. Sid’s Café was small and chic; it catered to both the young and the old. Lola moved around the renovated streetcar easily, working and making the money she would need to disappear again. The customers flirted, but never went too far. They knew better than to hassle a waitress at Sid’s. She was twenty minutes into a ten-hour shift, and already her feet where starting to ache. Though if she were honest with herself, her feet hadn’t really stopped hurting from her last shift. Taking the opportunity to rest, she leaned against the counter and watched the tables that were still occupied. “Sid, I don’t know how you talked me into the graveyard shift.” Sid grinned. “I can always count on you, kid. Money talks.” She nodded and chewed her gum thoughtfully. “So, what’s up Sid?” He was nervous and had been since she’d walked through the door. “I think it’s time you moved on. ” Lola’s swallowed. “What do you mean? ” “I mean there was a man here passing around your picture. ‘Cept he wasn’t calling you Mandy. Gotta figure your man’s catching up with you. ” She forced herself to remain still and calm. “What did you tell him?” “That I did n’t know you, but I think he’ll be back. I don’t lie worth a damn. ” She knew that, in fact, everyone knew Sid couldn’t lie to save his own skin. It was one reason she trusted him, and had trusted him the five months she’d been in Chicago. “What did he look like?” “Like a cop or an ex-cop working on the side.” Sid sighed. “Look, kid are you in legal trouble?” Sucking in a deep breath, she met Sid’s gaze. “No. I didn’t break any laws.” “Are you in the kind of trouble that could get you killed?” She wanted to lie, but didn’t. “Yes.” **** “Sid, she’s a beautiful woman. I can see how you’d want to protect her.” Sid sat back in the booth and studied the man in front of him. “She’s a good and decent woman. I told you she’s gone. She left after I told her you’d been here.” “You told me this morning that you’d never seen her before,” Jared snapped and then rubbed his face. “She’s in trouble, serious trouble. If I don’t catch up with her first she’s going to be killed.” “She’s gone. I don’t know where she is.” Jared eyed the man wearily and then reached into his jacket and pulled out his shield. “I’m a U.S. Marshal. Lola Bridges witnessed the murder of my partner. She’s the only witness to his murder. Instead of doing what she could to save him, she ran and I’ll be damned if she’ll let the bastard who killed him get away with it.” “She isn’t the sort who would let a man die.” “He bled to death. ” “You don’t know her. I do.” “You didn’t even know her real name until I showed up.” Jared ground out between clenched teeth and then left the booth. “If you care about her, you’ll tell me where she’s

going. I want justice; the other men searching for her just want her blood.” He turned away from Sid and started to leave. A pair of curious eyes followed him so closely that he paused and walked back to the older man. “Good evening. ” “You scared our Mandy off,” Oscar muttered. “Don’t know if I want to talk to you. ” “Her real name is Lola.” Jared slipped up onto a stool beside him. “She was a showgirl. ” Oscar chuckled at Jared’s unintentional reference to the song. “Yes. She’s a beautiful woman. ” “You knew?” “Yep, saw her three or four times in Vegas. I even saw her first show as a headliner. When I came in here and saw her behind the counter, my poor old heart nearly gave out.” “There is a three- hundred thousand dollar reward for her capture,” Jared said in shock. Oscar snorted. “Damned insulting if you ask me. A woman like that? Hell, maybe a million. ” Jared couldn’t help but laugh. “I see.” Oscar straightened out his paper. “What’s your sign?” Jared glanced at the paper. “Scorpio.” “Oh yeah? Sex god of the Zodiac…” He tapped the paper. “Fate will play on the path of your life and give you the only gift that matters. Cherish it and be happy.” Grinning, Jared slid off the stool. “Only thing I’m interested in crossing on my path is a long- legged showgirl from Texas.” **** Lola zipped up her duffel bag, grabbed her teddy bear, and took one last look around the apartment she’d been living in for four months. It hadn’t been a bad place, far better than some of the places she’d ended up. Shaking aside weariness, she shouldered the bag and walked quickly toward to the door before she could give into the urge to get some sleep. A banging fist connected with the door before she could reach it, and she stumbled backward, startled. Grimacing at the crashing lamp, she stilled as the fist banged again. “U.S. Marshal, open the door.” Lola tightened her grip on the teddy bear and hurried across the small space to the window. She had the window up far enough to squeeze out of it when the man broke through the flimsy excuse of a door she considered her protection. Cursing the small space, she gripped the bars of the fire escape and pulled hard. The man grabbed her by the ankle and jerked her back into the room as if she weighed nothing and tossed her on her back. Startled, she was still for an instant, then she kicked out against him and sent him sprawling. Grabbing the bear and the bag, she made a run for the door. He tackled her and they both hit the floor with a dull thud. Holding her down, he straddled her hips and glared. “You are under arrest for obstruction of justice, depraved indifference to human life, and for generally pissing me off.” Lola struggled under him. “Get off me, bastard.” “Resisting arrest isn’t going to add to your less-than-sterling image in my book.” “Do you have a badge or do you physically abuse strange women like this for

kicks?” Jerking her roughly upward, so they were eye to eye. “You are no stranger to me, Lola.” “Badge,” Lola ground out through her teeth. “We’re both going to get up and you aren’t going to try to run. ” Lola nodded and grimaced when he stood and pulled her up with him. With a less than gentle shove, he pushed her into a chair and tossed his badge in her lap. Lola wet her lips as she opened the badge case and stared. “Jared Copeland.” She glanced at her door, which was half-open. He took the nonverbal clue and walked to the door to shut it. Carefully, she closed the case and handed it to him. “I’m not guilty of anything you are trying to arrest me for.” “You are Lola Bridges.” “Yes.” “You witnessed the murder of U.S. Marshal John Castor in August of last year. You were seen leaving the Zodiac Hotel and Casino, and are currently number one on Phil Moretti’s hit list. You tell me if I missed anything. ” “His name was John? ” Lola asked softly. “He was nice to me, didn’t try to get too friendly. A lot of the other security men were just waiting to cop a feel. ” “John Castor. He was married and his wife gave him a son six days after she buried him.” Jared sucked in a breath. “You left him to die.” “There was nothing I could do,” Lola finally said. “I was in the bathroom when Phil and another man entered the office…” She trailed off. She could tell that nothing she said would matter to him. “I’m not going to testify.” “You’ll testify or you’ll go to jail. ” “Anthony was shot…” She closed her eyes and corrected herself. “John had eight bullets in him.” “One.” “Eight,” Lola responded in hard voice. “Trust me. The sound of each one of them being fired will be me with me for the rest of my life.” “Get your bag. We’re leaving.” Lola stood and walked to the bag. She picked up the teddy bear with shaking hands. “I thought if someone caught up with me, it would be better if it was law enforcement.” She looked at him then. “But in the end, I guess it didn’t matter. You want me dead just as much as they do. At least they’re honest about it.” **** He didn’t want her dead. Jared glanced toward her briefly before concentrating on the road. She was pressed up against the door, but had no made no moves to escape him again. Lola was clutching an old and worn teddy bear, her gaze fixed on the dash. “You should have come to the police immediately. ” Lola snorted. “You aren’t so naïve that you believe that I would have actually been safe with the police?” Jared gritted teeth. “You watch too much television. ” “Phil had a dozen or more cops on his payroll,” Lola returned. “They were in and out of the casino regularly. It doesn’t matter anyway, the moment he finds out I’m in custody

he’ll have me killed.” “You are my witness, and you’ll stay alive to testify. ” “Be sure to call home and tell your wife how you’d like to be buried.” Lola turned away from him. “I’m not married and I’m not weak. You’ll stay alive and give John justice. It’s the least you can do for him.” Lola shook her head. She knew she’d never see the inside of a courtroom. She curled her fingers more deeply into the teddy bear, feeling the sharp edges of the digital device John Castor had given her. “I don’t think you are weak. John never should have been around a man like Phil.” “He knew exactly what Phil Moretti was. He was there doing a job.” “Phil Moretti didn’t shoot John. He just stood and watched while it was done.” Lola looked out the window again. “Phil ordered it. The other man, whom I’d never met, didn’t seem to be all that put out about doing it. Anthony… John was shocked at first. I think he knew the other man. ” Jared’s jaw tightened. “If you’re lying to me…” “I’ve got no reason to lie,” Lola said simply. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just in the wrong place at the worst possible moment.” “Why were you in Moretti’s office?” “I’d opened my first show that night as a headliner. I was so excited. I hadn’t even changed clothes when Phil asked to see me. I was supposed to meet him downstairs, but when he didn’t show I went up to his office. I assumed he wanted to congratulate me and try to talk me into going home with him. He did that on a semi-weekly basis, but didn’t seem to get mad when I said no. I’d heard rumors about him and the casino … but I was naïve. I couldn’t believe that a sweet little old man like Phil could be with the mob.” It was Jared’s turn to snort. “You couldn’t have been that stupid.” “I was.” Lola shrugged. “I was in the bathroom when they came in. I’d left the door open a crack since I was just repairing my make-up. It was important to look good. Phil had a habit of getting rid of girls who got sloppy. ” She stopped, realizing that she’d gotten off track. It was difficult to talk about. She never had before. There had been no one to confide in after she ran. “Anyway, John came in with one of the other security guards, they were talking quietly. Whatever was going down, John didn’t seem nervous.” “You’d never seen the man that came in with Phil before that night.” It wasn’t a question. “I didn’t get a clear look at him then either. I only saw his profile once.” She grimaced. “That probably sounds like a lie.” Jared didn’t say anything. Lola scooted back against the seat and shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. There was no point telling him any more of the story if he wasn’t going to believe her. Disgusted, she shifted and rested her head against the window. **** Jared waited ten minutes before he realized she wasn’t going to finish the story. “Did Phil give John a reason?” “No. He dismissed the security guard with John and told the other man that it was time. John seemed confused and then I saw the gun. ” Lola swallowed hard. “Everything

went very still, and then John shook his head as if he didn’t believe what was going to happen. ” “The man, did Phil say his name?” “No.” She took a deep breath. “The man said—‘You should have listened.’ Then he shot him. Eight shots.” “John’s autopsy showed one bullet wound. It was a minor injury. He might have recovered if he hadn’t bled out.” “Did you see his body? ” Jared paused. “Only in the coffin.” Lola shrugged. “I was there, I know what I saw. I saw his body jerk with each bullet. He told me he was dead already. He told me to run. ” “And you did.” “When I was away from the casino, I called the police and told them what I saw. ” “The hell you did,” Jared snapped. “I called 911 when I got out of the damn casino.” Lola repeated tiredly. “I told them I’d witnessed a shooting and where it happened. They asked my name and I freaked out. I hung up and I’ve been running since.” She hugged herself briefly as she considered that night. “I may not have known what Phil Moretti was before that night, but I knew what he was afterwards. You don’t get hard like that from an easy life. He stood there, his eyes cool and steady and watched a murder. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it and I doubt it’ll be the last time.” “The FBI has been trying to drop a net on Phil Moretti for years. He’s always managed to escape charges, only brought him to trial once.” “I guess that sort of fell through when all of the witnesses died,” Lola muttered dryly. “There was one witness. His ex-wife, and yes, he had her killed.” Jared cleared his throat. “US Marshals travel in pairs. Where’s your partner?” “I refused another partner.” The admission seemed to fill up the car. “I won’t accept another until I’ve done right by John. No one outside the Marshals knows that I have you.” “Do you trust them? ” “Of course.” “Then you are a bigger fool than I am.” Lola closed her eyes and turned her head toward the window. Jared taped his fingers on the steering wheel briefly. He had a thousand more questions. “What happened…” “I’m tired. I’d like to go to sleep.” Jared glanced over at her and almost sighed. She’d curled up and was clutching the ratty little stuffed bear as if it was the only thing in her life that mattered. Lola Bridges was not what he’d expected. **** “No, sir, she hasn’t tried to run. ” Jared leaned against the car and eyed the abandoned rest stop. Lola was asleep in the car. She’d slept for hours. “She’s insisting that she won’t testify against Moretti and that he wasn’t even the gunman. ”

“Jared, don’t trust this woman. She’s already let one good man die, don’t think for a moment she wouldn’t turn on you, too.” “I’m watching her.” Jared glanced into the car and sighed. “I’m going to get a room and get some sleep. I’ll check in again when I’m closer.” “Watch your back. I doubt Moretti’s men are far behind you. ” Jared ended the call and put the cell phone in the pocket of his jacket. Once back in the car, he started the engine. Lola stirred briefly and mumbled in her sleep before she grew still again.

Chapter Two Lola jerked against her end of the handcuffs and glared at him. “Do you honestly think that I’m going to sleep handcuffed to your sorry ass?” “I don’t care if you sleep,” he muttered. “I’m sleeping. You can sit there for the rest of the damn day if you want.” Fuming, she watched his eyes drift shut and considered trying to keep him up. Since he was the one doing the driving, that didn’t seem like a good idea. He looked exhausted; in fact, he’d looked exhausted when he captured her nearly four hours before. Lying back on the bed, she glanced around the tiny motel room and frowned. It was a horrid little place, with faded orange carpet and dingy walls. She’d stayed in worse, but she would have thought a Marshal would demand better accommodations for himself. Her free hand went to the silver chain on her neck and she shook her head. She was so tired of running. His cell phone slid from his jacket pocket and onto the bed between them. Giving into an impulse, she picked it up and flipped it open. Carefully, grimacing each time the phone made a noise, she dialed her mother’s phone number. Her mother answered pretty much immediately. “Jared Copeland, I’ve told you time and time again not to call me so blasted early in the morning just so we can have the same conversation again and again. I don’t know where she is and I wouldn’t tell you if I did know. ” Lola laughed softly. “Good morning, Mama.” Silence met her greeting, followed by a hefty sigh. “He caught up with you. ” “He did. We’re about three hours outside Chicago.” She looked at Jared briefly and then sighed. “Mama, I wanted to call and tell you that I love you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call more.” “You did nothing wrong, dear one. I told that boy time and time again that his finding you would only get you killed.” Lola nodded and closed her eyes. “If something happens to me, you open the package I sent you. It has information about the bank account I’ve got set up set for us.” “Lola.” “Now, listen, Mama. This is important. That money will make you a good home somewhere safe. I know we agreed that we’d be together, but there is a good chance that isn’t going to happen. ” She lowered her head, but kept her voice strong and firm. “We haven’t got much time.” “You still lugging around that silly bear?” Lola laughed. “Yes, I still have him. ” **** Jared tried to keep his eyes closed as he listened to Lola talk to her mother. He’d assumed she’d try to call for help. It surprised him that she hadn’t, and he didn’t like surprises. Lola’s soft and affectionate tone with her mother had him on edge. He’d spoken with her mother nearly every day since John had died, trying to find justice, and

trying to reassure the older woman that her daughter would be safest in his custody. She ended the phone call and placed the phone on the bed where it had fallen. Clearing his throat, he waited until she looked toward him. “I’m not going to let you die.” “There will come a time when you’ll have to chose between justice for John and my life,” Lola said evenly. “I hope you make a choice you can live with. ” “Go to sleep, Lola.” She turned her face from him. **** Lola woke with the dawn streaming through the threadbare curtains of the large window by the door. She stretched a little and sat up; the tug of metal on her wrist made her grimace. Jared moved in his sleep, and she shoved at him. “What?” “Uncuff me, jerk.” He sat up and rubbed his face with his free hand. “You are a total pain in the ass, Lola.” “I’ve got to go to the bathroom and I need to brush my teeth. ” She jerked at the cuff. “Now. ” He grabbed her and jerked her across his lap. “In case you missed it, I’m in charge here.” “I know very well what your job is.” She squirmed on his lap, tried to ignore his press of his cock against her ass, and shoved her elbow into his stomach. “Let me up.” He shoved her off his lap and moved his legs to the side of the bed. Then, with a less than gracious pull, he helped her off the bed to stand beside him. “The keys are on the dresser,” he muttered as he walked toward them. She’d known exactly where they were, out of her reach. The moment she could, she pulled herself free of him and stomped toward the bathroom. “I don’t know how a nice man like John could have ever been your friend.” He followed and jerked her around to face him. Silent and furious, he pushed her back against the wall with one hand pressed above her breasts, the cuffs still dangling from it. Ignoring the furious beat of her heart against his hand, he spoke in a hard voice. “You don’t know a damn thing about John or me. I’ll never be able to look at you without remembering that you let my best friend die. Remember that, Lola, because the only man more dangerous to you than Phil Moretti is me.” Glaring, she refused to give into the fear that had slammed into her about the same time he had. “You can bully and threaten me all you want. It won’t change what happened that night, it won’t make me fear you, and it won’t make me do what you want. When it comes down to it, I’m as much a victim in this mess as John was. I played no part in his death, none. I don’t give a shit if you believe me.” He let her go without another word and walked away as she slipped in the bathroom and shut the door. ****

Jared sat down on the bed as he unlocked the cuff and pulled it from his wrist. He’d never been so angry or rough with a woman. He remained where he was when she left the bathroom with a small bag from her backpack. Glancing toward her, he found her curled up in a ratty chair hugging the stuffed bear to her chest. “What’s up with the bear?” “It’s personal and none of your business,” she whispered. “Most executioners don’t bother to get friendly with their prisoners, Jared. Didn’t you get that memo?” “I’m doing my job.” “If you’d done your job, we wouldn’t be here right now, ” Lola returned. “Just where were you, Jared, when your partner was getting gunned down in Phil’s office?” He jerked at the question and stood from the bed. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving.” “I’m taking a shower.” She picked up her bag and stalked toward the bathroom. “I’d get better treatment in a prison. ” “That’s just where you’ll be if you don’t learn to cooperate.” She slammed the door and locked it. **** Not knowing how long he’d let her sulk in the bathroom, Lola showered quickly and dressed. Sitting on the toilet, she went through what she’d been able to pack. Socks, underwear, an extra pair of jeans, and three shirts. Christ, when had she learned to let go of things? Before that night in Phil’s office, she’d kept souvenirs for every trip she took. Now, her life had been stripped down to the basics. There was nothing that she carried with her outside the bear; she glanced at it; that she’d miss if it were gone. Picking it up off the counter she touched its face. She’d never named it and never would. Carefully, she tucked it into her bag and zipped it shut. The last thing she needed was Jared getting too interested in it. The evidence that could very well buy her freedom was there and for now, only she knew about it. Banging shook her loose from her thoughts and she went to the door. It hadn’t been him banging on the bathroom door, it was something else. Carefully, she unlocked the door and peeked out. Jared was standing next to the door, gun in hand. He looked her way and motioned her back into the bathroom. She bit down on her lip and pulled the door almost shut so he couldn’t see her. She watched Jared check the peephole and then walk away from the door. The door broke open under the weight of a man and Jared turned in time to take a bullet to the chest. He went down shooting back. The man stumbled back from the door bleeding and fell to the sidewalk, half of his body still across the threshold. Several hard minutes passed and then she heard Jared. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Jared let his head fall back to the floor. Lola pushed open the door. “Where is he?” “Dead.” His grip tightened on his gun briefly and he glowered at Lola as she crawled toward him. “You stupid bastard. Are you going to die?” Lola demanded as she grabbed his arm. “You’re not bleeding. ” “Vest,” Jared murmured and groaned. “Get our shit, we need to go now. ” Hesitant, she watched him roll to his knees. “Are you okay? ”

“Hell no, that fucking hurt … a lot.” He walked toward the door, glanced at the dead man and then back into the room. With a grimace, he grabbed their intruder by the feet and hauled him the rest of the way into the room. He pocketed the thug’s gun. “Come on. ” Carrying her pack and his duffel, she hurried after him, shooting one curious glance toward their attacker. Blood covered his chest. Jared had aimed for the heart and hadn’t missed. She followed him to the car and got in with no complaint. Buckling her seat belt, she turned to Jared as he got into the car. “He works for Phil.” “He worked for Phil,” Jared corrected softly as he started the car. “Christ, I didn’t think they would catch up with us this soon. ” “You called your superior and told them you found me.” “Yes.” Lola nodded and crossed her arms over her breasts. “You should probably alter the route you’d planned to take and not contact them again until you are ready to turn me over.” “The last time I checked, lady, I was in charge of this fucking mess. Though you are rather adept at evading the law, I don’t need your advice on operational matters.” He put one hand to his chest. “No one in my office is responsible for this. Phil’s men have been right behind me for weeks, months. I saw one in the diner where you worked the same morning I went in and questioned Sid.” Since there was nothing to say, she remained silent. Jared was blind to the men he thought he could trust. However, she knew that John had been betrayed by somebody he trusted and that meant everyone he worked with, including Jared, was suspect. “Where were you when John was killed?” He shifted in the seat as they got back on the highway and tightened his grip on the wheel. “I was in route to a hospital. ” “What?” “John was supposed to meet with me before his shift at the casino. He had something to give me, some evidence he was sure would make the case against Phil for a series of murders in New York and Boston. Two of Phil’s thugs showed up instead. When I escaped them John was in the casino and I had no way to contact him.” “Escape them?” “Yeah, the bastards thought they could take me out in the desert and kill me.” Lola almost laughed at the disbelief in his tone. “They tried to kill yo u.” “Two bullets.” Jared admitted softly. “I managed to drive their car back to town, but it was too late. They found John’s body where we were supposed to meet. Fortunately, we also had a few other agents working in the casino. That’s how we knew he’d been there and that Phil had a serious hard-on about finding you. ” She watched him take a couple of deep breaths. “Are you hurt?” “I’m fine.” She didn’t think he was fine, but realized that he wasn’t going to trust her enough to let her help or reveal any sort of weakness. She turned her head and peered out the window. “We aren’t going east.” “No. I need some time to think. They’ll think I’m taking you to DC. I will, but first I need to think about how we’re going to get there and get you under before they can figure

out where you are.” He glanced toward her. “You should have changed your hair.” She touched the dark brown curls that fell down her shoulders to the middle of her back. “I lost everything, but I’m not going to lose me.” “It’s just hair.” “Yeah, it’s just hair. It’s just pictures, they are just yearbooks, it was just a diary. How many ‘justs’ do I have to let go of before I’m nothing? ” “The Marshals confiscated the contents of your apartment in Vegas. After this is over you can have your stuff back.” Lola snorted. “God, you really think it’s that simple?” “It can be if you listen and cooperate.” “Jared, you’re talking to a dead woman. ” “You could have a little faith in the system.” “Faith in the justice system? ” Lola asked incredulous. “I’ll never sleep on those silk sheets I bought, I’ll never drink out of my ridiculous Barry Manilow coffee cup again, and I’ll never wear my favorite bathrobe again. I’ll never see my mother again. ” Her voice broke at that and she turned away from him completely. “It seems Oscar was wrong. ” “That funny old man from the café?” Jared asked. “He knew who you really were.” Lola jerked to face him. “What?” “He had seen you in Vegas a couple of times.” The thought made her smile. “I enjoyed meeting him.” “What was he wrong about?” “He read my horoscope to me. It was wrong. ” When she didn’t elaborate, Jared focused on the road and wondered if Oscar had been wrong about his. “You could have faith in me.” “Have faith in the man who is more dangerous to me than Phil Moretti? ” **** “You have excellent taste in motels,” Lola muttered as she dumped her backpack on the king-size bed that dominated the little room. At least it didn’t smell like sex and alcohol. “I don’t waste the taxpayers’ money, ” Jared snapped. “I need a shower. What would you like to be cuffed to?” She stared at him, astounded. “Look, I could have run a couple of times.” “Yes, and you will run given a chance. Now, you can choose or I can choose.” “Fuck you, ” Lola seethed through clenched teeth. “You arrogant bastard.” He shrugged and pulled out the cuffs. “Let’s just keep you where I can see you. ” Grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her to the bathroom and handcuffed her to the towel rack. Lola sucked in a breath and before she could help herself, she punched him. He jerked back and rubbed his mouth, his gaze glittering with anger and, to her amazement, humor. Wiping a small amount of blood from his lip, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it out in the room. Her gaze dropped to the place where the bullet was embedded in the vest he still wore. It would have gotten him in the heart if he hadn’t been wearing the vest. She stared at the bullet for a long moment and then brought her gaze up to meet his.

“You’re lucky he didn’t aim for your head.” “Yeah. ” He shrugged out of the vest and visibly winced. A large bruise covered several inches in every direction from the point of impact. “Turn around.” “As long as I’m here I might as well get a show. ” She leaned against the doorframe and stared at him pointedly. He took off his shoes and tossed them out in the room after the t-shirt. She forced herself to remain still as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops of his jeans. He was in no hurry, but hadn’t slowed down, as if to give her the show she’d claimed to want. His jeans and boxers were tossed at her feet as he turned to cut on the water for his shower. She stood stock-still, taking in the lines of his body with reluctant admiration. He was beautifully put together, a physical man with muscles that spoke more of activity than a gym membership. His shoulders were impossibly broad and his cock hung, even flaccid, impressively between his legs. Lola could easily imagine that he would be at least nine inches erect. She swallowed and flushed at her reaction. He walked to her, eyes skittering over her face before cupping the back of her head and kissing her hard. She stiffened briefly and then seemed to melt against the heat of him. Lola opened her mouth to give him entrance and he took the opportunity, allowing his tongue to move between her lips in a sweep of aggression. Jared lifted his head and without a word to her, turned, stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain into place. She watched the shadow of him wash and rinse silently. He had finally succeeded in getting the best of her. Aroused and irritated, she turned her back to the shower and stared out into the room. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was going to sleep a full night beside him now without begging for sex. It had just been too long since she’d been with a man, she thought. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was. Which was a damn lie and Lola knew that. Jared Copeland was exactly the sort of man she normally sought out for sex. Strong, uncomplicated morals, and arrogant as the day was long.

Chapter Three Jared glanced back at Lola as he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and then a t-shirt. He walked back to her and uncuffed her carefully. His rough treatment of her was starting to make him feel guilty. She had been right about one thing. He and John were night and day. John Castor would have never treated a woman so callously. He watched her rub her wrist and back further into the bathroom. “Why did you kiss me?” He shrugged. “Felt like it.” Holding the door open, he met her eyes. “I’m going to order pizza.” “Yeah, ” Lola murmured and shut the door in his face. He found a flyer for a pizza place in the nightstand beside the bed, called in an order and then pulled out his cell phone. It was a moment he’d been putting off. Lola’s suspicions about the men he worked with were starting to rub off on him, and that was irritating. He dialed the number and pushed her out of his head. She was a witness and a borderline criminal in his mind. “It’s Copeland.” “Jared, my boy, are you responsible for that body? “Yeah, well, he started it,” Jared responded and then sat down on the bed. “I’m surprised you found him so soon. I don’t think he got to us by following me.” “After the body was brought to my attention I checked outgoing phone calls in the building. If we have a traitor in here, he’s using a cell phone or calling after he’s left the building. But, honestly, Jared I can’t think someone inside would betray us.” “We’ve suspected all along that John’s cover was blown by one of our own. ” “That’s yo ur theory, not one that I ever believed in. ” Jared grimaced at Mark’s tone. He wasn’t the type to believe he could be wrong. If there was a traitor among them, it was one of the men Mark had handpicked to work for him. “Yes, it’s my theory. We’re a couple hours outside DC. I’m going to lay low and call in a few favors. I’ll contact you when I’ve got her secure.” “You should bring her here.” “She’s my witness, and I’ll take the safest course of action possible.” **** Lola paused in the doorway and listened. She could hear the anger and the disbelief in his voice. It appeared he was finally getting to the place where she was. Trust was simply not an option in her world, especially if she wanted to live. She pushed her backpack off the chair and sat down to finish drying her hair. Watching him hang up the phone, she cleared her throat. “You lied to him.” “Yeah. ” She knew they were at least ten hours from DC because he’d gone north most of the day. “How are you paying for gas?” “Cash. ”

Lola sighed. “What are you going to do with me, Jared?” “I’m going to call a friend I have with the FBI. He’ll be able to help me find a safe way to bring you in. ” He rubbed his face and then jerked at the knock on the door. “Bathroom. ” She hurried back into the bathroom and pulled the door almost closed for what seemed the thousandth time as he answered the door. It occurred to her that she was spending entirely too much time in bathrooms. He checked the peephole and then opened the door for the pizza delivery guy. After he’d paid for the pizza and secured the door, Lola came back out into the room. “Is there a safe way to bring me in?” He shrugged and flushed, “We can place you in witness protection. ” “No.” “It’s safe.” “So safe that you can’t even say it without flushing? Come on, Jared, I’m no fool.” “No, you aren’t.” He tossed the pizza on the bed and sat down. “Tell me about that night again.” “The story won’t change. Another man, a man both he and Phil appeared to know, shot John. Phil ordered the shooter. John had eight profoundly bloody holes in him. ” “There is no way that sort of information could have been covered up by a single traitor.” “Yeah. ” He stood, walked to his bag, dropped the cell phone into it and zipped it shut. “Mark Jessup recruited me. I was so damn young and green; he took a chance on me when most wouldn’t have. If it weren’t for him I’d be a paper pusher somewhere deep in the FBI.” “I understand that it is your instinct to trust the men and women you work with. ” He gave her an irritated glare. “Spouting platitudes, Lola?” “I know that something is fucked up about this whole deal. I may not have a badge and a gun … but I know bullshit when I see it.” “You’ve yet to offer me a single reason to trust you over people I’ve worked with for years.” “My father gave me the bear.” She watched him move around the room. “He said we could name it when he came home from work. He never came home.” “I know about your father, Lola. He was a good cop.” A good cop who had been gunned down during a bank robbery on his daughter’s ninth birthday. “He thought the world was basically good. He just wanted to make it better.” “He had faith in the law and his ability to serve. He trusted that those around him would see that and trust him in turn, ” Jared said softly. It was the same sort of trust he’d had the first time he’d put on a badge. He was there to protect and serve, and if he did his job right he would come out of it okay. But, time had changed him in ways he’d never thought possible. It was hard to trust in justice when so much injustice happened in front of him on a near daily basis. She ate a piece of pizza in silence and then closed the box carefully. “And I don’t trust enough. ” “You don’t have much reason to.” She nodded and stood up. She went to her bag and pulled out the bear. “I’m going to start with you. If I’m wrong, well, you can trust that I’m going to hold it against you. ”

Running her fingers along the seam of the bear’s back, she pulled the thread she’d used to sew it closed several months before. Glancing at him, she pulled out John’s digital recorder and offered it to him. Jared walked to her and took the slim silver device carefully. “I wondered where it was. He loved this thing, had just gotten it before the assignment. Said it could record hours of stuff. ” “Yeah, ” Lola murmured. “There are no batteries in it. I took them out because I kept listening to it.” “I’ll go get some.” He frowned down at the recorder. “Is this thing going to make me hate you, Lola?” She laughed sadly. “I thought you already did.” “Tell me what’s on it.” “There are a couple hours of conversations between Phil and another man. They’re talking pretty freely about money laundering and drugs. There are also a few minutes of conversation with me, mostly him quizzing me about my movements and if I spent any time with Phil. When he realized that I wasn’t Phil’s sidepiece, he moved on to other girls in the casino.” She stopped and glared at him. There were a hundred little things on it that could put Phil Moretti away for the rest of his life. She’d given him her insurance policy. She flipped open the pizza box with a shaking hand. “We should pick up some snacks and drinks tomorrow. At least some bottled water.” **** “There’s more on there, right?” he asked, having let her brood in silence while they ate. It was obvious turning over the recorder had unnerved her. “Yeah, he talks into it. Notes on activities he witnessed and things he’d like to check into.” Jared picked up the empty pizza box and tossed it on the floor. “I’m going to get some batteries.” He walked to his bag and picked up the cuffs. “Where?” “I have nowhere to go.” “You’ll be most comfortable on the bed.” She said nothing as he walked around the bed and held out his hand. Glaring, she offered her wrist and grimaced when he cuffed her to the wall lamp next to the bed. “You are insufferable.” “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t do anything foolish. ” Jared looked her over, deciding her liked her indignant and angry. He grabbed his cell phone, the recorder, and the room key. He felt weird leaving her, but knew that he could trust her to stay put, especially since she was handcuffed. **** Lola waited until he closed the door; then leaned back against the headboard and used her left hand to pull her necklace out of her shirt. A handcuff key dangled there. With a small smile, she unlocked the cuffs and rubbed her wrist. Slipping off the bed, she snagged her toothbrush from her backpack. She didn’t consider running. She’d given Jared the only piece of evidence she had and that moment of trust had twisted her insides painfully. She’d have to see it through

and if she made the wrong choice … well, there was nothing to do about it at least for the moment. After brushing her teeth, picking up the towels they’d both discarded on the floor, and finding an extra blanket to sleep under, she contemplated putting the cuffs back on. Jared wasn’t so wired that he wouldn’t notice her activity in the room. She picked up the remote, tucked her key back into her shirt, and turned on the television. The door shook a little as he inserted the key in the ancient lock and stepped inside. He observed her in silence, then glanced towards the cuffs dangling from the lamp. Shaking his head, he tossed a paper sack toward his bag. “I bought a bunch of batteries.” She nodded and watched him walk toward the bed with one package and the recorder. “You realize that whatever John found out got him killed, and it is likely on that recorder.” “Did anything stand out for you? ” “No, but I’m not a cop.” She flipped to another cha nnel, frowned when a pair of tits bounced across the screen, and turned off the television. He fiddled with the recorder briefly and a dead man’s voice filled the room. “Man, that woman is hot. It’s a relief to know she doesn’t appear to be involved with Moretti. The staff doesn’t talk about her much; she doesn’t gamble or do anything particularly interesting to them. Caught her in a show the other night, makes a man dream of being single.” Lola flushed and looked away. She’d always hoped that he hadn’t been talking about her, but she knew the next part well. “That Lola is the only class act in the Zodiac. I’m going to try to get her out before we bust this place open.” The entry ended and Jared started pushing buttons again. A computerized voice quoted the date and time of the recording then John’s voice was in the room again. “Hey, you got any idea why the big boss wants to see me?” “Don’t ask questions, saves my face.” “Roy, you are one of a kind.” John appeared upbeat, but he’d turned the recorder on because he was worried. There would have been no other reason. “It isn’t even a face worth saving.” “Can’t all be pretty like you.” Roy laughed at his own joke. “Just keep it real with Phil. If he’s got some beef with you, he’ll be up-front about it. Don’t lie and don’t evade, it’ll only make him mad.” “Sure.” The elevator dinged and a door closed. “Boyo, this can’t be good.” “Just do what I said,” Roy muttered. “Evening Mr. Moretti. I was just leaving.” Silence. Dead awful silence followed. Lola tensed, she must have listened to this a part a hundred times. First to make herself believe, and then it had became a sick ritual. She’d forced herself to stop it when it started to interfere with her sleep. “Mr. Moretti.” “Anthony.” Moretti’s voice was hard and gravelly; years of smoking had taken away the smoothness of youth and health. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” “I don’t…” John’s voice seemed hesitant, unsure. “It’s time.” “You should have listened.” “No, wait…” Panic, disbelief echoed in John’s voice.

Eight shots, the recorder picked up the thud of each one into his body. “What about his partner?” “My boys should be dumping his body into the desert just about now.” Phil snorted. “Call Frank. I want that out of my place.” “It’s a shame. Young people these days just don’t follow instructions.” Footsteps and then there was the click of a door closing. A soft moan came from John and then the twinkle of bells. Lola flushed. “That’s my costume.” Jared nodded, silent. “I picked up his hand. His head was moving; I thought I could help him…” Lola rubbed her face and wished he would cut the recorder off. “Run, Lola.” “I’ll call someone.” “No. I’m dead already. You have to run. Go.” “I can’t leave you like this. I can’t.” “Run, damn you.” Bells and her sobbing was all they heard as she left the room and made her way to the elevator. The ding of the elevator was followed by the sounds of slot machines, gamblers, and dealers on the casino floor. She ran through it all, and out into the night. Traffic sounds and the click of her heels on the pavement joined the bells. “Shit.” There was a weird tone and then Lola was talking again. “I just saw a man shot. Yes, yes, I’m sure. The Zodiac Hotel and Casino, in the executive office. You have to send him help. Name? His name is Anthony.” Silence and then Lola spoke softly once more. “My name. I don’t…” She slammed down the phone. Jared turned the recorder off and sat it down on the bed with a shaking hand. “You were telling the truth. ” “Yes.” “By catching you, I’ve killed you. ” Jared stood and walked away from the bed. “The man on there, the one you didn’t know…” “Yes?” Lola asked frowning. “Mark Jessup.” Lola’s eyes widened. “He gunned down one of his own men? ” “And tried to have me killed as well. He must have thought that John had already passed information to me.” Jared picked up the recorder and took it to this bag. He put it away carefully and looked at her. “The cuffs?” “Did they tell you I was a magician’s assistant when I first got to Vegas? I kept my key when I left the show. I figured someone up there must love me, you and Magical Marvin have the same brand of handcuffs.” Jared laughed, his voice weary and haunted. “Christ, Lola, I’m sorry. ” “For what?” “For hunting you, for hoping you would suffer.” He looked at her. “You were an easy target for blame, he made sure of that. He focused me on finding you, not finding out why Moretti had John killed.” “So, what do we do now?” “I’ve got a laptop in the car. In the morning, I’m going to get online and forward

John’s recording to a contact I have in the FBI. I didn’t meet him through the Marshal service, and I have to trust someone. Then I’m going to help you disappear for real. ” “Why not now?” “They’ll trace it.” “But…” “I won’t be sure I’ve made the right choice until I see what they do. If they come after us, too, well then I’ll know the whole deal. I’ll go to the press, break open the whole thing. Nevertheless, you are not longer involved. Lola swallowed hard. “What about John? ” “John cared about what would happen to you. He’d never want justice at the expense of your life. I’ll get them both. The recording will help.” “You know I have to testify that John gave it to me for it to be accepted as evidence. Without me, it’ll be hard to prove the origins of it.” “How did you know that?” “Law and Order.” She offered him a soft smile. “Educational television. ” “Christ, Lola, this isn’t television drama.” “I know. ” Her voice tightened. “I haven’t spent the last year of my life running from imaginary mobsters. Frankly, I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did without somebody catching up with me.” “It was the lifestyle you chose,” John said. “They were hunting a Las Vegas showgirl. ” She inclined her head as she met his gaze. “What were you hunting for?” “A woman from Texas who trained for years as a ballerina, who worked her way up the ladder in Vegas without turning tricks or sleeping with any rich man who could give her leg up. The daughter of a tough-as-nails bookstore owner, who bakes the best chocolate chip cookies this side of heaven. A cop’s kid.” Lola smiled then, her eyes soft and sad. “Yeah, Mama makes great cookies.” “You’ll be with her and safe as soon as I can arrange it.” He looked around the room. “We’re going to get a real hotel room next time, complete with Jacuzzi tub.”

Chapter Four He turned out the light, realizing that she’d had the proof all along … that she was telling the truth. Jared lay down and tried to picture what she’d told him. He reached out and let his fingers drift in her hair, spreading it out on the pillow. “Don’t be nice to me,” Lola murmured. “I don’t think I can take it.” “Lola.” “No.” “Come here.” He slipped a hand over her shoulder and she turned into him with a sigh of defeat and wonder. “This is a bad idea,” she whispered against his mouth. “Just shut up before you talk us out of it.” Nodding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. His tongue pushed against her lips and Lola surrendered to him with a sigh. Fingers tangled in his short dark hair, and her body arched into him. “This will just complicate things.” Lola sighed against his mouth. “A lot.” “I love complicated things.” Lola shook as his fingers edged under her t-shirt and worked it up over her breasts. The moment he could, he lowered his head and latched onto one rapidly hardening nipple. She whimpered under the silky attention of his tongue and clutched at him, fingers curling into fists against his back. Jared released her nipple, and with a groan, rose. On his knees, he pulled his t-shirt off and ogled. She pulled her own shirt off and lay back on the bed. The silver chain and handcuff key glinted in the darkness. Slowly and without allowing her gaze to leave his face, she lifted one leg between them and let it slide down his body so that he knelt between her thighs. He slipped his hands down her legs, fingers clenching against the muscles that strained as she fought to remain still. The light from the bathroom fell on them, highlighting their bodies with enough light to make things seem less urgent than they were. His fingers snagged at the edge of her panties and tugged until she brought her thighs together and lifted her hips to help him. Carefully, he moved down the bed and pulled the panties away. They disappeared into one of the dark pockets of the room as he lowered his head and kissed the inside of her right thigh. Lola’s fingers tangled in his hair as she spread her legs. He took her silent request easily, sliding his tongue between her labia briefly before he pushed against her entrance and tipped into her. She shook beneath him, her body warm and tense with a pleasure she’d long been denied. “That’s so good.” Her voice, soft with pleasure, filled the room. “Jared.” He responded by working her clit gently with his teeth. “Fuck.” A soft sob of pleasure spilled out of he r mouth. He ran his hands up her thighs and gripped her hips as he moved up her body. His mouth latched greedily onto a breast before seeking her mouth. Jared pressed one hard kiss on her mouth and met her gaze.

She wiggled under him, trying to press against the hard length of his cock. “I need you inside me.” “Me, or just a cock?” “You. Your cock.” She touched his face. “Jared, please.” He kissed her deeply, his tongue probing against her lips and then inside. Lola took the kiss, clutched against him, lust burning in her. She’d never begged for a man before. She knew she’d take any road that would lead her to the pleasure of Jared Copeland. He left her and the bed abruptly. She watched him in the shadows beyond the bathroom light, and when he came back with a box of what could only be condoms she relaxed. Jared tossed the box on the bed for her to open while he took off his boxers. When he rejoined her on the bed, she’d freed a condom and tossed the box to the side of the bed. “I fantasized about this,” Jared admitted softly as he ran one hand along one leg. “What man wouldn’t? Christ, just where do your legs end?” She laughed softly and pulled him to her. “Come here and find out.” Lola dropped the condom between them as let she her fingers drift over the flat plane of his stomach to the sweet swell of nine inches of cock. She could barely wrap her hand around him; the thought was a pleasant one. He pushed her back onto the bed and knelt between her thighs as she continued to explore. Her fingers grazed his balls and he stiffened; the gentle touch was perfect and he fought the urge to give into the pleasure of it. She rolled on the condom and he groaned when her fingers slipped underneath his balls and pressed on the hard ridge of flesh she found there. Jerking, he pushed her hands away and pulled her into a sitting position. “I’ve spent two long nights wanting you wrapped around me.” He pushed her hair back from her face. “I hated myself for the weakness of it.” “Does wanting me still make you feel weak?” she asked softly. She ran her hands up his stomach, teased his nipples. “No.” One hand fisted in her hair, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Lips and tongues moved against each other. Lola moaned against his mouth and pulled him down with her. “Now. ” “Yes, now. ” He lowered himself between her legs and closed his eyes as she wrapped those incredible legs around him. The heat of her was overwhelming; he groaned deep in his chest as he sank into her. “Fuck.” She cried out, clinging to him. “Jared.” “I’m here, baby. ” She tightened her legs around him. “Harder.” He thrust deep as she surged up against him. He slowed the stroke of his body into her, watching pleasure and frustration war on her face. He wanted to make her come, come so hard that she’d never forget what it was like to have him. “Faster.” “No.” He leaned down and kissed her mouth softly. “No, Lola, slow down for me. Make a memory with me.” She shook beneath him, unprepared for the gentleness of his tone or the soft desperation of his request. “Yes.” “You’ll remember me.” “I will,” she promised, her voice breaking as he started to move inside her. The

careful and gentle stroke of his cock was the most pleasure she’d ever known. “I’ll remember you. ” He took her hands and threaded their fingers toge ther, slipping another layer of intimacy into their union. Gazing into her eyes, he saw her pleasure and her confusion. How could he tell her what she stirred in him? Lowering himself, he took her mouth and hoped she wouldn’t ask questions later. Lola moaned beneath him, surged up against him, meeting each thrust of his cock. The silky fit of her pussy was something he’d remember as long as he breathed. Bringing their hands to his mouth, he kissed hers gently and released it. Carefully, he slipped his free hand between them and sought her clit. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened around him as he teased her with the edge of his thumb. Her quest for pleasure peaked, and her body rushed wet and full against the thrust of his cock. “Yes.” She breathed softly, tears streaming down her face. “Jared.” “More?” he asked. “Will you take more?” Lola sobbed, “Yes.” She clung to him as he quickened the stroke of his cock. “Come for me.” “I will, baby. ” Jared groaned as her legs tightened around him. “You are so wet.” “For you. ” She touched his face. “For you, Jared.” He buried his face in the side of her neck as his body gave in to the silken pull of hers. They lay silent and shaking, both torn with the knowledge that they would be separated. **** Lola sat amongst the remnants of their breakfast with the small local paper spread out in front of her. Jared had spent over an hour transferring all of the data from recorder to laptop. He’d been angry and tense since he’d started the process. She understood betrayal and loss, and knew that was the root of his anger. “Hey, what’s your sign?” Jared shot her a strained grin. “Oscar tells me I’m the Sex God of the Zodiac.” Lola laughed, but had to agree. “Scorpio?” She glanced down to the paper and pursed her lips. “You’ll meet a new love interest next week. Be prepared for a fight and enjoy the rewards of victory.” “I do enjoy a good fight.” He went back to his computer. “What’s yours say? ” “You’ll find yourself in jail for kicking your lover’s ass when he meets a new woman.” Jared laughed. “No, for real.” Lola smiled, pleased that he didn’t look as tense. “The stars are in your favor and all the work you’ve invested in a certain project will pay off.” He closed the laptop and turned in his chair. “What do you supposed that means?” “That after two full years of squats and weight training I’ll finally be able to bounce a quarter off my ass.” He watched her hop up off the bed. She flashed him a quick grin. “Think I’ll take a shower.” ****

Jared lowered his head as he talked; he could see Lola hovering in the doorway of the bathroom. “Yeah, I know. Look Shaun, I realize that I’m asking a lot from you. ” “Jared, you’ve never asked a lot of anyone. What you’ve sent me is tantalizing, that’s no doubt. I’ve already got a tech working on the voices. We haven’t gotten evidence on Moretti like this, ever. We need her to testify as to the origins of the evidence.” “Did you listen to the recording of John’s death? ” “Christ,” Shaun muttered. “No, I’ve only gotten through the first hour of recordings.” Jared rubbed his face. “Mark Jessup killed John. ” “The hell you say. ” “You’ll hear it, and you’ll know the voice just like I do. Shaun, you know that we can’t bring her into a situation like that. She won’t be safe. He can’t know where she is, not ever.” “You let her get to you. ” “Shaun, ” Jared warned gently. “You’ll get everything I have,” Shaun finally said. “Let me know where I can find you.” “We’re moving again. I’ll call you when we’ve gotten another room. It won’t be anywhere near DC.” “I wouldn’t expect so. I’ve already got men in route to protect her mother, just as you requested when you sent the files this morning. Stay low and stay alive.” Jared hung up and met Lola’s gaze. “He’s got a man on the way to your mom.” Lola nodded. “Good. Does Jessup know about John’s recorder?” “No, at least I don’t think so. It was something John got conned into buying once we got to Vegas.” Jared glared at the cell phone. “I’ve got to call him.” “After you do, we need to ditch the cell.” “You are one bossy woman, ” Jared muttered. She walked to him dropping her towel as she did so. He ran his hands along her legs as she slid astride his lap. “Call him, now. ” Jared chuckled and shook his head as he picked up the phone. “I’m not a child that needs comforting, Lola.” She smiled and touched his face. “You trusted him just as much as John did. I know his betrayal hurts you. ” She pressed her lips gently against his. “Now, call the asshole. Just think—there is no way he’s got a hot, sexy ass Vegas showgirl naked on his lap.” Jared couldn’t help but laugh. “You do have a nice ass.” She watched intently as he dialed the number. Jared wasn’t the sort of man who lied; his moral code marched in front of him like a flag telling the world that he was a good and just man. “Copeland.” “Jared, you’re three hours past your check in time.” “Had a few complications.” Jared met Lola’s gaze and then glanced down, allowing his finger to trail over her collarbone and across one soft nipple. It hardened under his attention. “She’s certainly a handful, sir.” “It’s time to bring her in. ” “Those arrangements have already been made, sir.” “I want you to bring her here.”

“It’s impossible. Moretti’s men expect that, they know I have her. Her testimony is too important. John deserves justice, and he’ll get it.” Jared closed his eyes so Lola wouldn’t have to see the fury in them. “I’ll make the bastard who killed him pay for it.” Lola touched his jaw, and he opened his eyes. “You will,” she whispered. “Is she cooperating?” Jessup asked abruptly. Jared grinned then; Lola slipped off his lap and ran her hands along his thighs. “Yeah, she is. Demanding, bossy, and self-righteous, but then most women are.” He nodded then, more to himself than her. She took it as encouragement and slipped her hand into his boxers. “I’ll call you after it’s done.” He turned the cell phone off and looked at her hungrily. She only smiled and slipped his cock through the opening of his boxers. Jared sucked in the breath as her soft hands moved over him. His cock was rapid ly hardening, and when she licked her lips, his whole body responded. “Lola.” She slipped her lips over the head of his cock. He let his hands drift in her hair as she took him inside her mouth. Her fingers moved down the length of him, cupped and caressed his balls. Lola pulled gently with her lips, her tongue running whipping over his cock, tasting him. “Lady, you are killing me.” He tightened one hand into a fist and then released her hair. Roughly, he pulled her to her feet and astride his thighs once more. He reached out and snagged the box of condoms from the nightstand. She took the condom from him and grinned. “You’re shaking, Jared.” “You don’t have any idea what you do to me, do you? ” Rolling the condom onto his cock, she grinned. “Oh, I think I’ve got a very good idea what I do to you. ” He lifted her without another word and impaled her with the hard length of him. She gasped and strained against the invasion. Her face flushed with pleasure and desire, she gripped his shoulders as he stood from the bed and pressed her back against the wall. Lola tightened her legs around him and groaned as he thrust upward into her again and again. The cotton of his boxers rubbed against her thighs, reminding her that she’d freed his cock just a few moments before and slid it into her mouth. She wanted to suck him off, to have him come in her mouth. She’d desperately wanted that power over him, and he’d taken it from her without even trying. Tightening her legs around his waist, she gripped his shoulders, and demanded more. “Fuck me.” He chuckled at her breathless demand. “Is this how you want it, Lola?” “I’ll take you any way I can. ” She arched against him, and shuddered when he slid his hands beneath her and ground his pelvic bone against her clit. The sensation was so hot and dirty, she closed her eyes as orgasm teased her senses. Her hands tightened into fists on his shoulders as he continued to thrust deep into her. “Yes. Yes.” Jared lowered his head to her shoulder and bit down hard into her flesh. “I’ve got you, baby. ” “Hold on, ” she begged. “I will.” She shook and bucked against him as she came. Holding her tight, he let his

own release come.

Chapter Five Lola hovered near the bathroom as Jared checked the front door. The knock had been unexpected. She looked at their packed bags and realized that their morning in bed had delayed them dangerously. She bit her lip as Jared checked the peephole, pointed his gun towards the floor, and cursed softly. The tension in his body told her that whatever lurked on the other side of the door wasn’t what he expected. “Hide,” Jared said. * He watched her close the door, and then took a deep breath. Opening the door, he took a few steps back and let Shaun enter. “You reckless bastard.” Shaun glared at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d let you stay out like this on your own? Where is she?” “In the bathroom. How?” “I was in the air when you called me. I started a trace with the first transmission you sent me.” “Are you prepared?” Shaun nodded. “I’ve got six men in the parking lot and I’m pulling in as many favors as you and I have combined. We’ll have everything in place by the time we get her to DC.” “She’s not going to DC.” “She’s going, ” Shaun returned evenly. “Jessup was taken into custody an hour ago. His entire unit has gone under investigation, and that investigation will include you. ” Jared nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “Why? ” “I’ve known you since you were ten years old. Don’t you think I know when you’re in over your head?” Shaun demanded roughly and then glanced up as the bathroom door opened. He inclined his head and grinned. “Your pictures simply don’t do you justice.” Lola offered him a small smile. “There is a big man outside the bathroom window. ” “Yes, that would be Jethro Manilow. ” Shaun rocked on his heels. “He’s your new body guard.” “Jethro?” Jared laughed. “Good call.” Lola’s eyes narrowed. “What?” “He’s gay,” Jared muttered. “Get your stuff, Lola.” Lola just laughed. Jethro Manilow. What were the odds? **** Lola smoothed her skirt and glanced around the hotel room. It was by far the nicest she’d been in. A girl couldn’t find much about a five star hotel to complain about. The only thing the room was missing was Jared. Ten hours of debriefing had left her exhausted but relieved. She picked up the cup of water that Jethro had brought her and looked at him. “You said I’d get to see Jared soon. ” He nodded. “Yes.” She laughed softly. “Come on, Jethro, give a girl something? ”

“He’s still being interviewed. They’ve found two other people in his unit on Moretti’s payroll. Once they’re satisfied that he’s given them everything, he’ll be brought here. The two of you will have to go under witness protection until they can set up a trial. The Attorney General’s office is involved.” “What about my mom?” Jethro flushed. “She’s got two of the finest agents in the service seeing to her care.” “What?” He dropped his head sheepishly. “Ma’am, she’s making them cookies.” Lola laughed softly. “Oh, poor you. ” She stood up. “I think I’ll take a big bath. ” He grinned. “We got you a Jacuzzi.” She nearly clapped. “I’ll have my mom ship you some cookies, Agent Manilow. ” **** Lola moaned as she slipped into the bubbling water and rested her head on the rolled- up towel she’d propped up on the tub edge. This was, she considered, as close to heaven on earth as she would ever get. She barely moved when she heard conversation outside of the bathroom. Jethro Manilow, Lord his name made her giggle, had treated her security like she was a queen. She had no doubts if anyone was in the room; it was because they were supposed to be. She lifted one leg and ran her toes along the edge of the tub as the door opened. Jared leaned in the doorway. “Now that was worth waiting for.” Flushing with pleasure, she sat up and held out her hand. “Thank God.” “You’re just glad to see a straight man. ” Lola snorted. “Jethro is the most boring gay man I ever met.” She inclined her head. “His tie didn’t match his shirt. Maybe he should be on ‘Straight Eye for the Queer Guy.’ I’m thinking I’ll take him to Vegas and ge t him done up right.” He touched her face and sighed. “We’ve got twenty- four hours here and then we’ll go under. You have a decision to make, Lola.” “I don’t understand.” She frowned. “Finish your bath and we’ll talk about it.” **** Jared paced the living area of their suite and wondered what he would do if she chose to be hidden separately from him. Their relationship certainly hadn’t started on the best of terms. He felt like he’d preyed on her loneliness. He turned as she exited the bathroom wrapped in a thick terrycloth robe three sizes too big. She sat down and crossed her legs, letting the robe fall open completely. “Okay, spill it.” “The FBI will be handling our protection. There is still some worry as to how deep the corruption goes within the Marshals. I don’t believe we’ll find any more, but it’s best to be thorough. We’ll be under for six months to a year. You won’t be able to call your mother or see her until this is over. She’ll have protection until the matter is resolved.” Jared saw the expression on her face. “As long as she doesn’t know where you are, she has no valuable information. ” Lola nodded. “Okay. ”

“Do you want to go under with me or without me?” “I-I-what the hell does that mean? ” “The government will have us both under protection until the trial. We can go together or we can go separately. The choice is yours.” “You don’t want to be with me?” Lola asked softly. “This is about what you want.” “What I want?” she demanded. “It hasn’t been about what I want since I met you, Jared.” “That is exactly why the choice is yours now!” Jared snapped and turned his back on her. Furious, she leapt off the couch. “Jared!” He turned, grabbed her, and crushed her mouth with his. Wrenching his mouth from hers, Jared stroked her face with gentle fingers. “Tell me what you want, Lola.” “You. ” She blinked back tears. “You big, stupid idiot.” He pulled her close, laughing softly. “That sort of flattery will get you everywhere.” Jared stepped back. “I asked you because I’ve pushed and pushed since we met. I want to know that you are with me because you want to be.” She hooked one leg in between his and tossed him on his back so fast that he was barely aware of what happened until she straddled him. “I was always with you because I wanted to be.” Jared glanced at his hands; it was the first time a woman had ever pinned him to the floor. “Where does a ballerina from Texas learn a move like that?” “My daddy was a cop, Jared. I took Judo and dance classes.” She shook back her hair and glared at him. “You interrupted my Jacuzzi bath to ask me an asinine question like that?” “I got your Barry Manilow coffee cup out of storage.” Lola released his hands and sat back a little. She snuggled her ass against his hardening cock and crossed her arms over her breasts. “That’s not going to make up for interrupting my bath. ” “I’ll learn all the words to Mandy and sing it to you while you bask in the Jacuzzi and drink the best wine we can order off the menu. ” “It’s my mom, you know. ” “What about your mom?” “She’s the one who is obsessed with Barry Manilow. ” He reached up, pulled the belt loose on her robe, and whispered. “Her name was Lola.” Lola laughed and wiggled. “She was a showgirl.” “I love you. ” She stilled and then hit him. “You asshole.” “What?” “That’s what you should have interrupted my bath with! ” He rolled her beneath him and pressed her into the carpet. “I can’t wait to tell my mother I fell in love with a showgirl. She’ll be giddy with the scandal of it.” “Can’t wait to meet her.” She touched his face. “We’ll be all the family we need until we can testify.” “Yes.”

“I love your big, stupid ass, too.” “Oh, I know. ” He stood and picked her up off the floor. “I knew when you decked me.” “Arrogant bastard.” She nipped his ear and buried her face into the side of his neck. The End About the Author: Deanna lives in the southern United States. She has been writing for eighteen years. Deanna is married, works in a library, and spends her spare time writing, working on website design, and reading. To learn more about Deanna's day-to-day trials, check out her website. She would love to hear from you! www.deannaleebooks.com

Midnight Hour Jenna Howard

Dedication To Katalin for being the best darned critique partner in the world and for talking me off many ledges in my writing. You’ re the best, my friend. Thanks.

Prologue Scorpio watched the party through the rifle’s sight, waiting for the right face and the right moment. Hours had been spent memorizing the photograph; when the moment came, the target would be recognizable. Every intimate detail of Everett’s life was known, right down to the way he liked to screw his high-priced mistress. The man claimed he was in commodities, but he was peddling everything from human flesh—with a penchant for young girls—to drugs, weapons, and information, all to the highest bidder. He was a bleeding wound that needed to be cauterized. The appearance of a brassy redhead had Scorpio settling into position. Erin Keefe had been Everett’s mistress for three years now. Had the man been thinking with his brain instead of his dick, he would have found a lover who didn’t stand out in a crowd. She was almost as tall as Everett’s six- foot height, was built by the finest plastic surgeons, and had a desire for emeralds the size of golf balls. She was a loud declaration that Everett was nearby. Everett sidled up to his mistress to greet their host, a drug dealer. Scorpio settled the Super Magnum’s crosshairs on the target’s forehead. Inhaling deeply, her finger settled on the trigger. After a slow exhale, her heart rate slowed and Scorpio made the shot. Even though nine hundred and fifty meters separated the shooter from the party, screams sliced through the still night air. The kill was confirmed. There was no mistaking the splash of gore and gray matter on a pale bodyguard. Rolling away from the rifle, Scorpio stared up at the sky. Another shot, another kill, another stain on the soul. “I’m sorry, ” the sniper whispered to the ghosts that never went away. Scorpio walked away, leaving the weapon behind, and disappeared into the night.

Chapter One Max Grayson was ready to go home. Nothing bored him as much as schmoozing. He hated people who kissed up because of his name or the money he earned. The novelty of the tux had worn off four hours and fifteen minutes ago. He had done his job. He had bid a ridiculous amount of money on a couple of paintings in the silent auction because it was expected of him, not because he had an undying need to have another oil painting of the Rocky Mountains or a watercolor of the prairies during harvest. Sipping his bourbon, Max wandered around the hotel ballroom. When was it appropriate for the host to go home? He paused at the paintings on display and saw someone had outbid him on the prairie painting. Thank God. Now if someone would bid on the mountains he could go home deliriously happy. An elegant, bare back caught his attention. He allowed himself a moment to admire delicate shoulders draped in midnight blue silk. The material formed a tempting gathering at the small of her back before cascading to the floor. There was something about a back, with all its smooth skin bared, that turned him into a slavering dog wanting to lick from bottom to top. Light brown hair was pulled up into some feminine twist that made a guy want to unravel it to see where the length reached. Head tilted slightly to the side, she eyed some modern monstrosity that was a lot of colors and slashes. “You like that kind of shit?” he asked. His mother would be traumatized. One didn’t attend a charity function with Calgary’s elite society and call art ‘shit.’ Even if he owned the hotel. The woman glanced at him and a dark eyebrow arched upwards in regal acknowledgment. “And if I was the artist?” She had the heart-shaped face of a cheetah, all angles and planes. The tilt of her grey-blue eyes reminded him of a cat. Sleek and sensual. He wondered what it would take to talk her out of the blue gown. With a flick of his wrists the dress would be a puddle of silk on the floor. “Then I’d apologize by taking you out to dinner.” Her tongue touched the left peak of her upper lip. “Does that line usually work?” He tilted his hand from side to side. “What would work for you? ” She flicked a finger at the painting. “You could buy that for me.” What? Really? Disbelief surged through his blood along with a healthy dose of lust. Max gave the painting another look. Primary colors swooped and coiled in a hideous rainbow tornado. Titled ‘Turbulence,’ Max wondered if it had been painted during a woman’s period and represented PMS, what with the red blob in the center of the storm. He was smart enough to keep that opinion to himself. “You like this? Really?” “Hmm,” she purred as she traced the neckline that duplicated the back view of her gown, only higher up. His gaze followed her touch. Damn. “I do.” “What do I get in return? ” She leaned towards him, her lashes lowering over her stormy blue eyes. “My utter devotion. ” She winked and walked away. He glanced at the bid written on the paper and felt his lip curl. Someone was willing to spend five hundred bucks on this juvenile depiction of art? Exhaling sharply, Max wrote his name, upping the bid by a hundred and fifty dollars.

“Wow, that must have hurt.” Rubbing his eyebrow with his finger, Max stared at the woman who had returned with a glass of wine. Damn it, he had missed her. He hadn’t wanted to. Nothing serious they had promised each other when they had started their mild flirtation months ago at his friend Jeff Tamber’s barbecue. Now Mattie was in his blood, haunting him when she was away and making him crave her when she was near. “You have no idea. Now, about your utter devotion bit. Your place or mine?” **** Max shut the hotel door behind him and looked around the spacious suite. Mattie was one of the few permanent residents in his hotel; a deal she had struck with his father two years before his death last fall. Mattie crossed the hardwood floor to the tiny bar tucked into the corner by the balcony doors. “Can I get you a drink?” She dropped her sparkly purse, barely bigger than his wallet, on top of the bar and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Bourbon if you have it.” He unbuttoned the front of his tuxedo jacket as he approached her. “Where do you want this?” He lifted the painting, the only one he had acquired from the auction. Personally he wanted to chuck it off the balcony to see what wildlife came along and crapped on it. She waved a hand and he set it facing forward on the couch. The colors mocked him. She set a glass on the bar, then crouched down to pull a bottle from behind a cupboard built to blend in with the façade of the bar. He admired the way the silk pulled taut over her ass while pooling around her high heels. She was a creature of sensuality. Every move she made was meant to entice and tease. She poured the alcohol into the heavy tumbler, neat. “No ice?” “A little burn is good now and then. Don’t you agree?” she asked. She took a sip from the glass as he approached her from behind. Hell yes. All that visible skin called to him and Max traced the valley of her spine until he reached the folds of fabric draped over her ass. Settling both hands on each side of her spine, he savored the warm silk of her flesh. She stilled her head, turned to reveal her profile. It was a gorgeous profile. He slid his fingers beneath the material, caressed around to the flatness of her stomach and smiled when her muscles tightened beneath his fingers. Her lips parted as he followed the clean lines of her body. He couldn’t decide which was softer, the skin beneath his palms or the silk brushing the back of his fingers. Her willowy body tensed as his hands flowed up to cup her breasts, her taut nipples. She arched, a purely feline move, as she filled his palms. “A little burn is good now and then, ” he repeated softly in her ear as he traced her nipples. She set both the bottle and his forgotten drink onto the bar and flattened her hands on the marble top. A soft purring sound escaped from her when he pressed his swollen cock against her. He leaned down to taste her neck and inhaled her sensual perfume. He bared the curve of her shoulders and elegant arms, revealing more of the pale gold skin he desperately wanted to feel sliding against his skin. Beautiful. She lifted one hand and then the other and he eased the gown down. The silk pooled at her hips, trapped between their bodies. His fingers slid back up her arms. He couldn’t stop touching her. Damn, he had

missed her. Straightening, she leaned against him. He had wanted her the minute he had seen her at the barbecue and the craving grew stronger every time he was with her. Her head fell back to rest on his shoulder and he ducked his head to kiss her neck. He wanted to push her forward and bury his cock in her and fuck her out of his system. Two weeks. When he reached her shoulders, he let his hands stroke down to the firm, swells of breasts. He traced her nipples, lightly tugging on them. His thumbs flicked the swollen tips and her sigh caressed his neck, her ass lightly rocking against his cock. She caught one of his hands and guided it over her flat stomach until he was cupping her pussy through her gown. “Make me come, Max. ” There was nothing between the silk and her body. The fabric grew wet as he stroked, his finger sliding over her until he felt her juices through the gown. His thumb searched through the folds of fabric until he found her clit. She gasped and arched against him. A silk covered finger breached the wet entrance of her pussy and she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the bar once more. At the base of her neck, his tongue found the delicate bump of her spine. He traced the slight hill; then followed the elegant valley of her spine. His silk covered finger moved in shallow thrusts as he crouched behind her. He wanted her to come but he was damn well going to be in her when she did. He abandoned the heat of her sex and slid the remaining fabric slowly down her legs. She shivered and he gazed at her. From between her splayed legs he could see her glistening pussy and he wanted to part her legs and lick her dry. He caressed the inside of her leg and watched as her hips canted backwards. Heat radiated from her and the cream he touched made him shudder. Her bottom pushed backwards and he teasingly traced her slit—greedy to be filled— sliding down to the swollen bud of her clit. He wanted in her. Now. Patience was not his strong point. Two weeks. Two weeks of fantasies, dreams and memories. He could only take so much. His finger ran back and forth along the tiny slit. She moaned and pushed backwards to take him into her body. Who was he to deny them both? When his finger sank into her, he watched her back bow. She was tight and ready. He leaned forward and kissed her left ass cheek. Moisture spilled down his finger and his thumb began to toy with her clit. He traced the elegant letter M with a hooked swooping end that decorated her ass. It was like waving a red flag before a bull and he wanted to charge forward. Screw patience. He rose, kissing and licking his way up her spine as his hand stopped moving, simply filling her. “Do you have anything?” She nodded as vaginal muscles tightened while she pushed backwards, urging him to move. “Max, please. I want to come.” “Not without me, baby. Where?” She nodded at her purse and he eased free of her body. After fumbling around with the clasp, he finally got the stupid thing to open and dumped everything on the bar. He wanted in her. Deep in her. She rubbed her ass over his groin and his balls tightened in anticipation. This was not going to last long. Mattie plucked the condom from him. Like a pale goddess, she turned and knelt before him. He saw her intention in her blue-grey eyes. She opened his trousers and Max removed the clip from her hair, tossing it over her shoulder. Hair the color of fine teak tumbled free and he combed his fingers

through the satiny strands. Her hand wrapped around his cock and he nearly came. Her grip tightened and he watched her stroke from base to tip. Ahh, shit, he thought when she leaned forward. Her tongue flicked out; catching a drop of pre-cum. She smiled against the head of his dick. She glanced up at him and his knees nearly buckled when the wet heat of her mouth wrapped around the swollen head. Her tongue lapped around him and when he began to thrust deeper into her, she abandoned him. He growled in frustration. A wicked gr in curved one side of her mouth. “Not without me, baby. ” His fingers fisted in her hair and he tried to guide her back to finish the job. Instead she pushed his pants down to his ankles, rolled on the condom, then stood up. After stripping him from his jacket, vest and shirt, her hands rested against his stomach. Her palms burned him, branding him as hers. “Hi,” he whispered. He wrapped a hand around her neck and kissed her. Her flavor filled him. He could live on Mattie alone. Their tongues met and danced. The flavor of bourbon- laced woman seared him. Her tongue caressed his, beckoning him to taste more of her. She tasted like his dreams: a little naughty, a little sexy, and all woman. “Hi,” she breathed against his lips. After one more devouring kiss she pulled away. She turned, leaning against the bar and he drew a line down her back to the taut globes of her ass. He followed the tight valley and smiled when goose bumps dotted the pale flesh. He followed the trail to her pussy. Her hips pushed back and a needy sound whimpered from her. Tired of playing, he stepped forward. The head of his cock brushed over her ass cheek and she shivered. “Max. Now, damn you. ” “Patience, baby. ” Yeah, like he was patient. He guided himself home and groaned as she took him to the hilt. “Ah, Mattie.” Bracing a hand beside hers he began to thrust. His movements were choppy. The hot, tightness of her body was fucking with him. Her skin was soft and seductive. He kissed her shoulder while he reached between her legs. He teased her swollen clit and enjoyed the soft cry exploding from her. He thrust, driving deep into her until her cries rang deep into his soul. His thumb flicked her clit as he felt his own orgasm crawling up from his balls, dancing along his spine. Her body tightened around him and she moaned his name. Through the rubber he felt the heat of her release. He thrust hard and came, his mouth buried against her neck to stop from saying something irretrievable. Ah hell. He didn’t want to say that did he? Yeah. Yeah, he did. His heart squeezed as she lowered her head, her lips brushing the back of his hand. “I missed your face, Mattie.” She straightened, her mouth parting in surprise. She searched his gaze. “You can see it at the newsstand.” “No,” Max said softly as he traced her lower lip, “I missed your face.” There was a vast difference between the woman wrapped around him and the one who stared at him from glossy magazines. That woman would never sprawl on the floor with four flavors of popcorn to watch an animated movie with his daughter, Bree. That woman would never jump up and holler at Bree to haul ass when she stole the ball in soccer. That woman sure as hell wouldn’t cause Max to drop over six hundred dollars on a piece of crappy art.

“Max, ” she whispered as she pressed her fingers against his lips. To stop his words? A wary look entered her eyes, a look he hated to see. The first time he had seen that trapped expression had been when she had met Bree. Mattie rarely allowed her vulnerabilities to leak out; when she did he felt as if he was kicked in the throat. She mouthed his name again and closed her eyes, shutting him out. Max wanted to howl in frustration. Instead he kissed her, letting her keep her demons to herself. He had his own devils nipping his ass. He could understand her unwillingness to fling herself onto the grenade he had lobbed between them. At least she didn’t withdraw from the kiss. They had sex if nothing else. Damn it. He wanted more. He wanted everything. **** Mattie opened her eyes and rolled over, settling herself to study the man in her bed. She loved looking at him. His was a masculine beauty that crept up on a person. His face wasn’t handsome by the standard definition of beauty, but he still managed to take her breath away: broad cheekbones, broad jaw, bold eyebrows and a bold nose. His eyes were what made Max truly striking. They were a shade she could only describe as Alberta blue, the color of a vast summer sky free of clouds that hurt to look at. She especially loved the way his eyes would light up whenever he looked at his eight- year-old daughter. To be loved by the one person on Earth meant to love and protect unconditionally always made something fragile inside her break. Bree was a lucky girl and Mattie hoped she realized how fortunate she was. Tracing his jaw, the dark, reddish-gold stubble tickled her fingers. Her lover. Crazy. She liked his sinfully sensual mouth. Not too full, not too hard. Lips that easily smiled, cursed or kissed. She still remembered their first kiss. She cherished it, holding it trapped in the beautiful box in her mind where only the sweetest memories resided. On her darkest nights, she freed everything in the box. She now had many memories in that box thanks to Max and his impish daughter. Mattie’s finger traced the slightly crooked nose that added to the rough-hewn beauty of the man before her. My lover. He said he’d missed her face. She licked her lips nervously. And he had bought her a hideous painting. Gads, where the hell was she going to put that thing? She would have to hang it up. If she didn’t, he’d give her a hard time. Maybe she’d wrap it up and give it to him as a present. Smiling, she smoothed her fingers over his hair. “Are you seducing me?” His sleep raspy voice made her smile. He made her smile. “Is it working?” He lifted his head and glanced down his body, one tarnished gold eyebrow arched up. She followed his gaze and saw; yep, it was working. “You’re a horndog, Grayson. ” “Hmm.” He lightly caressed up and down her spine, causing tingles and shivers to spill in his wake. “Hadn't had sex in two weeks. What time is it?” Mattie glanced at her clock. “Five. You should go home.” “Hmm, I should.” He rolled, trapping her beneath him. “Morning, ” he mumbled before he kissed her. Mattie cupped his cheeks as she opened for his tongue, letting him in. He seeped through her blood; finding new untouched places that made her ache to be worthy of him. Moments like this scared her. She couldn’t afford to have him living under her skin, thriving in a heart that had stopped loving a long time ago. Don’t, she silently pleaded as

her tongue danced with his. Don’t make me love you. Max wouldn’t be an easy man to love. He was like her. He had walls, barriers, and hidden wells she didn’t know about. He liked things his way and if anyone dared to argue with him, all hell could erupt with one hard look from those summer blue eyes. She had felt the icy sting two weeks ago when she had been unwilling to define what was happening between them. Was this a relationship? Panic bubbled inside her but she shoved it down by kissing him harder, deeper as if his tongue had the power alone to calm the storm brewing in her. A relationship was dangerous. If he learned about her… She very much feared the pain would destroy her. She wasn’t good. She wasn’t sweet. She wasn’t beautiful beneath the surface. “You’re thinking again, ” he growled against her mouth as he looked down at her. “I can hear each synapse firing between your brain cells. If you’re going to worry about shit, figure out where yo u’re going to put the painting. And don’t even think about giving it back. You wanted it? Baby, it’s yours.” Mattie smiled as she followed the line of his lower lip with her nail. “I think it would look gorgeous by your pool table.” His eyes narrowed in a mock glare. “Or perhaps in your bedroom. Every time you looked at it, you’d think of me.” “Yeah, I can see myself jerking off to that vile thing. Nope. Yours, baby, all yours.” Damn. It was truly ugly. She rose up and kissed him, teasing him with the tip of her tongue. “Do you jerk off over me?” Funny, that sounded rather sexy to her, when with others it had always been a little abhorrent. She didn’t want to know what anyone did when they looked at photos of her. That added a whole new level of ick. He looked at her, his eyes droopy with arousal. “Oh, yeah, ” he drawled as he nudged her with his erection. “Yes, I do. Do you know which picture’s my favorite?” Mattie shook her head as she slid a leg along his, enjoying the hair tickling her calf. “Tell me.” “You, licking mustard away from the corner of your lip after you devoured a hot dog. I wanted to be the one to remove the drop of mustard while I inched the little straps of your top down your arms then laid you naked on the table so I could feast on you. ” Mattie’s breaths struggled to escape as he looked down at her. The words made her wet, made her remember. That had been the day they met. After a day of shooting in a farmer’s field of canola flowers, Ricki, her stylist, had dragged her to the barbecue celebrating Canada Day. Max had been the first man to approach her when she had sat down with her hot dog smothered in condiments. “Do models eat hot dogs?” He had asked, sitting down beside her, his eyes shielded behind dark sunglasses. When she had informed him “yes, this model did”, he had asked to witness the moment for prosperity’s sake. “Did you…?” Slowly, he nodded as he stroked the leg hooked over his waist. “Max, ” she whispered, unable to think of anything more to say. He kissed her, a slow seductive infiltration meant to seek and destroy any barriers between them. She couldn’t risk that. If he knew about her… The nightstand drawer opened with a rasp and her blood heated. Once he was sheathed, she felt him slide in, filling her so, yes, he was everywhere. She felt him, the heat of his flesh surrounding her from the outside in. Max. My Max. She met the sensual thrusts of his body. How she wished she were a different person, that she was worthy of this moment. She wasn’t. How she wanted to be though.

Heat built within her, burning through her fears and demons. He was a sorcerer; finessing his way into places she didn’t want him to go. Mattie arched into him, needing to feel more of him. His skin touching her would banish her thoughts to the darkest corners. His work-roughened hand caressed the small of her back, easing them closer together. Max. My Max. Mattie ached to wrap herself around him, to breathe him in. He met her gaze as he thrust deep in her. She mouthed his name as she gripped his wrists, needing to hold on to him before she catapulted into another world without him. I am, she thought as she surged towards him. Cherished. The word exploded in her mind as her body did. Crying out his name, she came in a fire only he created in her. Max. Only Max. My Max. “Mattie,” he said softly as he filled her, his cock still hard. She opened her eyes and everything in her stilled at the look in his eyes. Emotions brewed there, emotions she didn’t dare name. He, apparently, didn’t have the same fear. “I love you, Mattie.” And he finally came, his release flowing into her with the same cool heat as his words. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close though she wanted to push him away. No. No, no, no. “No more fear, Mattie,” he said in a soft voice as he sank down. Belly to belly, breast to breast, heart to heart. She was scared. More terrified than she had ever been in her life. “That’s what I wanted to say two weeks ago. I love you. ” Don’t. Don’t love me. She was unlovable. Tainted. “Max, ” she whispered, unable to say anything more. She wrapped the words in gold filaments and tucked them into her memory box. “No more fear, Mattie.” He eased out of her and she half expected him to walk away because she didn’t say the words back. Max Grayson, however, was made of sterner stuff. He thrived on challenge. “You’re going to have to go home.” “Soon. Mom knows where I am.” Mattie rolled onto her side, unable to look at him. How could she? He curled against her back, his fingers doodling on her stomach. “One day, Mattie, you’re going to tell me your secrets.” Her heart jumped in pure fear. Secrets. She had so many.

Chapter Two Normally Mattie enjoyed the short but scenic drive to Max’s home. Today, however, the sights were blurred by the remembered intense look in Max’s eyes as he told her he loved her. It had been a long time since someone had said those words to her. “Lub, Ma-he. Lub.” Every once in awhile memories of Jarod’s lispy voice would ambush her. How she missed him. The person she had loved first, the first one she had betrayed. She covered her mouth as she glanced over at the man who managed to shrink her Mini to the size of a toy car. Sandrine, his mother, and Bree had dropped him off last night at the Descarado Hotel. Normally she hated the drive from the hotel outside of Calgary to his home in Springbank, a small community west of the city, because it was too short. Today, the eight- minute drive seemed to last hours. She should’ve stayed at home. Yes, she was tired of hotels. Yes, she had missed Max and his family. This was too awkward to handle. She should’ve pleaded jet lag. She should’ve said she had a meeting at the agency. She should’ve ended the relationship when she left for Paris. That would have been the kindest thing to do. How could he love her? He didn’t know anything about her. Not the ugly, gory stuff under the surface. How could he love her when he finally met all of her? If, she mentally corrected. If. God knew she didn’t like that part of herself. She killed for an agency the government didn’t acknowledge. She killed. What kind of woman did that? Who would let that kind of person into his family? Would introduce his innocent child to that kind of horror? Some nights Mattie woke up in a sweat, scared she was turning into what she eliminated. There had to be a line crossed somewhere. She didn’t know where it was or if she had already crossed it. “Are you okay, Mattie?” She grunted in response as she saw the familiar turn-off. Maybe she’d slide over when he got out and return to the hotel. She’d leave, start new somewhere else. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of leaving, of never seeing Max again. When he pulled into the driveway, she wished there was an easy solution. Staring at the deceptively small house, Mattie went through her options in the same fast way she did when she was Scorpio. Stay? Go? Why stay? Why leave? If she stayed what would happen? If she left what would she do? Choices, so many damn choices. He turned off the engine and faced her. She looked away from the oak front door and met his gaze. “Are you coming in?” He loves you—leave. Leave before you hurt him. Could he hear the panicked beats of her heart? Did he know her palms were damp with a fear she never felt staring through the sight of a rifle? She felt vulnerable. She didn’t care for that at all. Was she going in? She stared at his home, the mountains stretching behind it. The view was more amazing from inside with nothing to interrupt the vista. He leaned towards her and she wondered if her little car expanded to accommodate his movements. He brushed her hair aside and tucked it behind her ear in a gentle movement. He did the same thing to Bree when she woke up late at night from a nightmare. The touch was soothing and calmed her erratic nerves.

He loved her. Most women celebrated the man they were with, loved them in return. The information filled her with terror. She was going to fuck this up. The sun rose, stars shone at night, ocean waves always reached the shores, and Mathilda Adamson fucked things up. He sighed as he cupped the back of her neck, his thumb resting at the corner of her mouth. “What’s going on in your head, Mattie? The question is easy. Are you coming in or going home?” She had gifts in the small bag Max had made her pack. Lord, the assumption that he expected her to stay the night was nearly as scary as knowing he loved her. She had stared death in the eyes countless times, but this man alone had the power to rattle her. Reason one for leaving. Reason for staying? Max. It was always Max. “I’m coming in,” she said, resisting the urge to push him out of her car, dive into the driver’s seat and speed away. “Was that hard?” He had no idea. His thumb feathered over her bottom lip and butterflies leapt to life in her stomach. He winked, reached between the seats for her bag and then pried himself out of the car. There was still time to change her mind. She licked her lips then climbed out when he opened the car door for her. He took her hand, probably to keep her from bolting down the steep hill. He unlocked the door to his home and headed down the hallway with her in tow. Mattie felt trapped. No, trapped was the wrong word. Ensnared. She nodded to herself as scents of breakfast drifted down the hall. “Hey, my painting would look nice there,” she said, as she pointed to a bare spot on the wall to distract her nerves. Max growled, yanked on her arm and dragged her into the kitchen where his mother commanded the stove. “You’re late,” Sandrine said without turning around. Whenever she looked at the older woman, Mattie didn’t see anyone’s mother. She could have been a model. She was tall, taller than Mattie, and slender but curvy. Curly blonde hair, threaded with few strands of grey, was pulled into a loose clip at the top of her head. She was in the valley of the blondes. Mattie grinned at the thought because all of the Graysons were fair-haired with the same gorgeous blue eyes. Max set Mattie’s bag on the island in the middle of Sandrine’s domain. The chrome appliances sparkled while adding to the warmth of the room despite being metal. Nice trick. “Are we grounded?” A lecherous smile crossed his face as if being grounded appealed to him greatly. Mattie was very glad Bree’s head was down. She slapped his chest and rolled her eyes. His daughter looked up at the words and her eyes went wide. “Mattie!” his daughter shouted. “What am I?” Max muttered under his breath as he was ignored. “Ha,” Mattie said softly to Max as Bree launched herself out of the chair and ran from the nook to where they stood. “Hi.” The exuberant greeting never failed to stun her. Small arms wrapped around her waist and her own hands hesitated before she rested them in the silky gold strands. “Did you bring me back anything?” Sandrine turned around with a gasp. She pointed the spatula at her granddaughter. “Briana! Where are your manners? Hello, Mattie. How was your trip?” Bloody. “Busy. ” “All is good with you? ” Sandrine’s sharp gaze shifted between her and Max as if she

knew something was different but couldn’t put her finger on it. “Yes. You? ” “Wonderful. ” Sandrine didn’t look as she slapped at Max’s hand when he reached for whatever was in the pan. His ‘ouch’ was heard but he held his prize in victory, a crisp piece of bacon. “I have a date tonight.” Mattie grinned when Max’s eyes narrowed. “Date? My mother doesn’t date. Who is this guy? What does he do? Has he ever been married? Is he into kinky stuff? Where’d you meet him? Does he come with references?” Mattie rolled her eyes as he began to put his mom through the inquisition. She reached for her bag, took Bree’s hand and they tiptoed to the table. Max fired out questions which Sandrine ignored while she continued to prepare breakfast. “My sex life,” Mattie heard as she unzipped her bag, “is none of your concern, young man. ” “None … none … none,” he sputtered and Mattie glanced up to see him press a hand over his heart. “Lady, I came from your sex life. You know about protection? ” Mattie snorted while Sandrine turned red before frowning at her son, then dipping her head to remind him his child was in the room. To distract his daughter from hearing anything she didn’t need to know about at the tender age of eight, Mattie handed over her gift. “Tell me about this Lothario.” “What’s a Lothario?” Bree looked up from the box she held. “Never mind. Read your book.” Mattie coughed and looked away, hiding her grin. Bree narrowed her eyes and she could almost see the girl’s brain working. Lothario. Put that on the back burner. Look it up in the dictionary. Well done, Max. Well done. Bree opened the second gift and a soft cooing sound filled the kitchen, halting the interrogation. Briana Grayson did not coo, especially over clothing. “Dad, Grandma, look.” Bree turned and held the sweater up. The image was a depiction of Monet’s Water Lilies and was truly a work of art. “Isn’t it pretty? Can I wear it now?” “It’s beautiful,” Sandrine said. “You can wear it after breakfast.” Mattie didn’t miss the wistful look on Sandrine’s elegant face. She pulled a small box out and pointed at Sandrine. Happy to deliver the gift, Bree skipped over then shifted anxiously. Max used the distraction to steal more bacon then looked innocent when his mother glared at him. Mattie rested her elbow on the table, settled her chin in her palm and watched the threesome. They were a unit. Max lightly nudged the back of Bree’s knee then shrugged when she whirled around after her knee buckled. He pointed at Mattie and lifted his hands. If they didn’t resemble each other, Mattie would be able to tell they were a family. There was a rhythm to everyt hing they did, they way they talked, teased, laughed and fought. That rhythm had been sadly lacking in her dysfunctional family. “Mattie, it’s beautiful.” Sandrine abandoned guarding breakfast to walk over and hug her. She smelled faintly of lilacs and more strongly of bacon, vanilla and coffee. “Thank you. I’ll wear it out tonight.” She drew the silk scarf through her fingers as she touched each color as they blended together. She allowed herself a sigh before she carefully refolded her gift and set it on the island. “Okay. Clear the table, Bree. Breakfast is ready, if your father didn’t eat it all.”

“Innocent. I’m innocent.” He retrieved plates and cutlery on his way to the table. “Mutiny in my kitchen. ” “Your kitchen? ” His mother looked over her shoulder. If she wore glasses, she’d be peering over the rims. “Since when have you ever used your kitchen?” “Hey,” he set the plates down and thumped his chest, “I make coffee.” “Yeah, ” Mattie drawled, arranging the plates since he was distracted with hassling Sandrine, “but do you drink it?” “What’s this?” With a hand on her neck, he tilted her. “Mutiny from my woman? ” Pressing a hand over her heart, Mattie fluttered her lashes up at him. “Your woman? Since when have you ever used your woman? ” His eyebrows rose up and he bent down to kiss her. “What time is it?” “Shut up,” she muttered, as Bree made a sound of disgust. Max settled her back into place; then sat down. “Sandrine, may I have some of your coffee?” There was a pinch at her waist and she jumped, trying to ignore him. Dangerous, Mattie. This is very dangerous for you. She shoved the voice of reason aside. One more day. She’d enjoy this for one more day. She’d believe it if she didn’t tell herself the same thing every time she was around this family.

Chapter Three Mattie opened her eyes when she heard a car pull up at the house, the rumbling engine breaking the quiet. A few minutes later two car doors banged shut. “Sounds like your mom has company. ” “Shut up,” Max said as he toyed with her fingers. “He’s simply escorting her to the door.” When no car door slammed shut and no engine roared to life, Mattie shifted until she saw his face. “A drink for the road,” he muttered. Poor, naive man. She patted his cheek and returned to watching the night. On the deck above she heard footsteps. “Are you down there, Max? ” “Yeah. No hanky panky up there,” he called up as he entwined his fingers with Mattie’s. A few seconds later the scent of tobacco wafted down. The muted conversation above, blending with Max’s heartbeat under her ear and his breath tickling her hair, were oddly comforting. A chair shifted and Sandrine laughed in delight, causing Mattie to smile in response. Once more she tried counting the stars freckling the night sky. The entire evening had been peaceful after his mom had left for her date. They had watched a movie, then she and Bree had done a pretty decent job of losing in a game of pool to Max and now, here she sat. Another night to cherish with the Graysons. “You’re thinking bad thoughts again, Mattie.” She responded in a quiet voice, considering his words carefully. Was she? “No. Actually, I’m not.” “Hmm.” He fingers slid along hers until their hands were flush against each other. “Are we ever going to discuss what happened at your place?” Her heart leapt and she stared at their fingers touching. “About what you said?” Please, no. Not yet. She wasn’t ready to leave. He would expect the words and Mattie couldn’t voice them. She couldn’t tell Bree she loved her when the little girl said the words first. Something in her seized up, blocking the words so all that emerged was a strangled, “Me too.” What kind of woman couldn’t tell a child she loved her? A seriously messed up one, that’s who. The kind of woman who peered at another through the crosshairs and obliterated a life with a squeeze of the finger. What exactly did he want her to say? Well, there was the obvious. She loved him too and she ached to spend the rest of her life proving it. Until when? The cautious voice was back. Would he love her when he knew what she did? What she had done? “I’m not ready, Max. ” And she greatly feared she never would be. She wasn’t meant to love. That lesson had been taught to her at a very young age. A voice came from above them interrupting the conversation she didn’t want, “Good night, Max. Good night, Mattie.” “Night,” she called as she pulled his arms around her, blocking out the world. Max said his own good nights and lowered his chin to her shoulder. No car started up. One minute, five minutes and then ten minutes passed, but Sandrine’s date didn’t leave. She peeked at Max, who glared at the mountains they no longer saw. “Don’t even think it.”

“Your mom has sex, you know. How do you think you were conceived?” He muffled the last word with his hand. Prying his hand down, she continued to bait him. “I bet she has orgasms.” She laughed when hands lightly wrapped around her neck and he gently shook her. Uncoiling from the Adirondack chair they were sitting on, he carried her to the edge of the balcony that, in the light of day, showed a marvelous drop. “You’re going down. ” She shrieked when he tipped her over the edge and she grabbed the railing. “My mom knows nothing about sex. Got it? Immaculate conception, baby. ” “Right. Got it.” Smiling, she braced her feet on the lower rung and turned until she could sit down on the railing. Unable to resist teasing him, she gave him her most innocent look. “Do you think she has a vibrator?” His mouth dropped open and he grabbed the front of her shirt and tilted her backwards. Her shriek echoed down the hill and a light flared on behind Max. “Okay, okay. I’m done.” She glanced over her shoulder at the ominous darkness. God, if the shirt ripped she was a goner. He pulled her up, kissed her briefly then lowered her down. Brushing her shorts off, she glanced at him. He scowled at the light that suddenly winked out. Through the open window she heard Sandrine’s laugh and an unfamiliar bass voice. When Jerry Waldon, Sandrine’s date, had shown up earlier, Mattie hadn’t gone to meet him, opting to take a bath instead. According to Max he looked like a perverted old man. She supposed he if looked like Santa, he’d still be called a perverted old man. “You know, those jets in the jacuzzi tub work really well too.” Max’s head snapped around and he snarled. She shrugged then ran when he lunged for her. An arm wrapped around her waist and he carried her inside. Laughing, she tried to push his arm away and grabbed for the pool table when they passed it. “Do you want to wake up my daughter? Shush, woman. ” Shush? “Did you say shush? Isn’t that a word perverted old men use?” Within a few steps they were in his room. He threw her onto the bed then dove onto her when she tried to roll away. Sandrine had the upstairs master bedroom, while Max and Bree lived on the lower level. At least Sandrine’s room wasn’t above them. Max would probably have a heart attack and go after Waldon if he heard the mattress squeak. “Wait? What was that?” She lifted her head and pretended to listen. “Why, ” she gasped, “it’s your mother being seduced!” “Mathilda,” he growled in her ear as he flipped her over. “You’re evil. Speaking of evil. How come I didn’t get a present from Paris?” She arched up and flipped him under her. His eyes went dark at the movement and she felt a little thrill. “Are you feeling neglected?” She sat up and his hands rested on her thighs, his thumbs lightly caressing under the hem of her shorts. Her heart quivered at the touch and her breathing grew a little shaky. Warm pulses of pleasure tickled her pussy and she fought the urge to draw his hands up her legs, touching her where she wanted him. One touch from him and she was panting for him. How fair was that? The right side of his mouth curled up, the smug look of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her. “I know what would make me feel better.” His fingers slid higher up her thighs. She snorted. His palms left a tingling path as he bunched the soft cotton up. Her mouth parted on a silent gasp when he brushed aside her thong and caressed her clit. She gripped his muscular thighs as she arched towards the fingers brushing back and forth

over the sensitive flesh. She whispered his name, wanting his touch everywhere. “Damn, I love it when you do that.” Do what? Instantly explode? His hands slipped away and she whimpered, aching for his touch to return. His fingers moved with ease, pushing the button free then tugging down the small zipper. She shifted, bracing her hands on his stomach then rose up, letting him strip away her shorts. A hand wrapped around her neck and she was tumbled to the bed. “Are you my Parisian present?” Okay, she thought as she gazed up at him, what present? “I’m wearing it.” He searched her face then sat back on his knees. He stripped his shirt she had put on after her bath. His pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. “Ah, baby. ” He traced the bold red lace cupping her breasts then the black ribbon weaving the two cups together like a corset. “You wore this all night?” He didn’t look away from the zigzag he made as he followed the ribbon. Faintly she heard him whisper, “Red,” before he looked down at the thong that completed the lingerie set she had cajoled to keep after her shoot. Black panties had red ribbon woven through the lace. Not something she’d wear jogging or on an airplane. Then again, as Alain, her photographer slash contact had said, these weren’t panties for wearing, but removing. “You wore this when we played pool? ” He traced the scalloped edge of the lace and slipped his finger under the delicate fabric. She nodded as he began to caress her pussy. She ached for more than the light touches as he drew teasing circles over and around. The more he tormented her, the wetter she grew. “Max, please!” The lace grew scratchy against her skin, abrading everywhere it touched. “So pretty, ” he drawled as he smoothed a hand over the panties then rubbed her lacecovered sex. “Roll over.” She did and felt him lean down to kiss the Scorpio astrological sign tattoo on her tush. “You have the best ass, baby, ” he said against her skin as he eased the narrow red band from between her cheeks. “Red,” he whispered. “I like red.” How unlike a Taurus bull to like red. Then again, he did get a little wild in the eyes. She smiled into the pillow. “I know. ” She lifted her hips and he whisked the thong away. “I like you in red. Better out of it, though. ” Fingers caressing up her back, he settled beside her. She liked how he always touched her back. He thumbed the bra open and she rolled over to see his face. He leaned down and kissed her. Every time he kissed her, he managed to snare another piece of her heart. Was that his plan? To take her apart piece by piece? His fingers drifted down, exploring every inch of flesh until he reached her sex. There was no more teasing as his fingers began to unravel her stroke by stroke. He abandoned her mouth and began to lick and nibble his way down her body. A finger thrust into her when he took her nipple into his mouth. She arched off the bed, moaning his name, her fingers fisting in his hair. She held him close as his mouth and tongue did deliciously wicked things to her. He was driving her insane … finger … tongue. It was all good. Her stomach quivered as her orgasm built. His mouth slipped away from her breast and she shivered as the warm air brushed cool over the wet flesh. Down he went, his mouth kissing, tasting, as he eased a second finger into and began to tease her clit with feather brushes of his thumb.

“Look at you, all nice and creamy for me,” he said against her stomach. Her legs parted more, sensing his approach. His fingers sliding through wetness heightened the anticipation. Her heart almost exploded from her body when his tongue reached her swollen clit. She cried out, arching to feel more of him. “Max!” “Shh, baby, I’m thanking you for my gift.” If he thanked her any better, she was going to die. Fingers? Good. Tongue? Good. His fingers fucked while he licked up all her responses. She surged towards him and her body exploded, her climax pouring through her. “Max!” “Thank you, ” he said and kissed her. He had moved? She focused on him and saw he had removed his t-shirt. He had stripped? She glanced down and saw he was deliciously naked. All that muscular skin for her to touch and explore. The sneaky bastard had managed to put on the condom. She supposed this meant she’d have to play later. She licked her lips, tasting him and her. “You’re welcome. Can I put everything back on for another thank you? ” “Later. Your turn to thank me.” “Thanks.” She yawned, patted her mouth, and shut her eyes. “I don’t think so,” he muttered and slid into her. “Ah yeah, that’s more like it. Right where I’m supposed to be.” She feared he was right. Their eyes met as they moved together. She caressed his cheek and when he turned and pressed a kiss into her palm, her heart melted. He caught her fingers and flattened them over his heart. She wanted to cry. Her vision blurred and she shut her eyes to hide the forming tears. “Ah, baby, it’s not supposed to hurt,” he whispered, his lips dancing over her lashes. But it did. It hurt so much. There was so much she wanted to tell him. “I love you, Mattie. One day you’ll believe me.” She tucked her face into his neck and gasped as he filled her. Everywhere there was Max. I love you. She kept the words safe in her heart, protecting them, protecting herself.

Chapter Four She had fled. Run from him like a thief on the lam. Max rubbed his face and fought the urge to haul his accountant across the desk and throttle him. He wasn’t mad about the meeting. They were making money. There were some concerns at the Victoria hotel but he trusted his V.P. to iron out the problems. His anger was centered on one stubborn, cowardly woman. He hadn’t expected to fall in love with her. He wasn’t looking for love, but in one stupid, weak moment the words had erupted from his mouth in her bedroom. And in the aftermath, it had felt right. Only she was fighting it. For whatever reason, she was fighting it, fighting him. He had never known her to run before but, like some cheap one-night stand, she had fled while he slept. He hadn’t been that angry since Janelle had dangled his baby girl over the balcony, screaming he didn’t love her as much as he loved Bree. “Excuse me, Max, your mother’s on line one.” He nodded as he reached for his phone. “Excuse me, Jack. Hey, Mama.” He was having a hard time meeting his mother’s gaze since he had woken up to find her date drinking coffee in the kitchen. “Can you pick up Bree for me?” She sounded like a breath of air would knock her over. He glanced at his watch, school was out in fifteen minutes and he was at the downtown hotel thirty minutes away. “I’ll be late. Migraine?” “Yeah. ” Too much sex, he thought but kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to think about it. “I’ll see what I can do, Mom.’ “No, I’ll figure something out.” He picked up a pen and began to tap it against the blotter. “Call Mattie. She’s close.” Then they’d talk. Really talk. Fully clothed as they put everything out in the open. He wasn’t going to let her run from this. If she said she didn’t love him then he’d let her go. Until she said the words, though, he wasn’t giving up on her. “Okay. Sorry to interrupt.” “No problem. Get some rest.” He hung up and fought the urge to rub his hands in glee. He was going to have a serious heart-to-heart talk with Mathilda Adamson. **** Fading laughter drew her from her novel. Only a few stragglers remained at the school. Where was Bree? She had agreed to pick up the girl when Sandrine phoned the hotel complaining about a migraine. She climbed out of her Mini convertible and looked around. She had parked in front of the doors so Bree would see her instead of looking for her grandmother. Swinging her long legs over the car door, she hopped down and went to see if Bree was dawdling in the playground. A few kids were enjoying the sun, but none had the familiar gold hair. She wasn’t going to a friend’s house because Sandrine would have said so. Mattie began to walk around the school then finally walked inside. Her heart was

beginning to pound with concern. Maybe she had detention. Or she had something going on. She dug her cell phone out of her purse as she walked into the office. A secretary looked up with a smile. “Hi, I’m supposed to pick up Briana Grayson. Do you know where she is?” The secretary consulted a list. “Her father called in after lunch. She went home with a stomachache. He didn’t tell you? ” Mattie’s heart clenched. Sandrine had called her fifteen minutes ago. If Bree had gone home hours ago, Mattie wouldn’t be picking her up right now. Her phone rang and she smiled apologetically before answering. “Hello?” “Hello, my Hildy. How are you, precious girl?” The name, the voice, the words made her skin crawl. “Looking for someone? She’s a very pretty child. I’ve missed you. ” His laughter caused her knees to buckle and she sank down to the floor. “Miss? Miss! Are you okay? ” Okay? There was a resounding click in her ear and he was gone. How could she be okay when a monster had Bree? Max. Max was going to kill her when she told him where his daughter was. This was her fault. Please don’t let him hurt her … touch her. A monster had that beautiful girl. The monster that was her father. **** His daughter was missing. Stolen. He had one job in his life, to protect her from harm. He had failed. He was a terrible father. Resting his elbows on his knees, he tried not to imagine what someone could do to a beautiful girl like Bree. What if she didn’t come home? At all. “Max, don’t do this,” Mattie whispered in his ear as she hunched over him, wrapping her arms around him. How could he not? Predators preyed on children all the time. Now one of them had his daughter. The love of his life. “We’ll bring her home.” “Why is he doing this to me? I don’t know your father.” Truthfully, Max had assumed the man didn’t exist. Mattie never mentioned her family. Damn it, he wished she had. Maybe with a little warning, this wouldn’t have happened. “The police will find her,” his mother said, looking up from refolding the same pair of jeans for the fifth time. There was a fanatical hope in her eyes. “They’ll find her and bring her home.” Mattie’s cell phone rang and he straightened. Was it the son of a bitch who had his daughter? He was going to rip his heart out. If one inch of her skin was marred, if her heart skipped one beat, he was going to kill the fucker. “No,” Mattie was saying as she walked away. Max wanted to yank her close, hold her tight in case something took her away too. “Nothing yet.” She glanced at her watch and nodded. “Okay. Bring everything. I’ll meet you there.” The phrase snagged his attention. Meet who where? She was leaving? She hung up and Max slowly stood. “Where are you going?” “I’m meeting Alain at the hotel. ” Alain? Why the hell was her photographer here? “You’re going to work?” She met his gaze and nodded. “Modeling,” he growled the word. “You’re going to model while your father holds my daughter’s life in his hands? I don’t fucking think so!”

“Max, ” his mother gasped. He didn’t bother to apologize. This was nuts. How damned unfeeling was the woman? “Fine. You go do your fucking job. I’ll do mine, which is bring my daughter home. You walk out, don’t come back.” Savage pleasure filled him when her face paled. Yeah, you feel what it’s like to have you heart ripped out. She nodded once, gathered her purse and then walked out the door. He kicked the coffee table and wandered helplessly to the sliding window. “Max, don’t do this,” his mother chastised quietly. “You love her. You need her. You bring her back.” “Fuck.” He slammed his hands against the wall then went to do as his mother said. Mattie, however, was long gone, speeding away in her zippy little car. **** “You don’t know where he is, Mattie.” Mattie shrugged as she ejected the magazine from her Glock. The heavy weight was soothing for the first time since owning it. She was doing something. It was better than playing her father’s twisted games. For ten years she had played by his rules. Now he was back? Thinking she was the same pliable Mathilda who didn’t fight back. He had made her what she was. He’d reap the benefit of his lessons. After verifying the magazine was full, she snapped it back in place. She would bring Bree home. “I’ll find him. He wants me to find him.” Her skin crawled at the thought of seeing him. He was not going to hurt Bree. He was not going to turn that innocent child into her. “This is stupid. We need a plan. ” Alain was a firm believer of plans. It made him exceptional at his job with Z.O.D.I.A.C., the Zone of Defense in Armed Conflict. Z.O.D.I.A.C. What a stupid name for an agency the government called to clean up unsightly messes. “You’re not thinking rationally, Mattie. You’re thinking with your heart, not your head. That will get you dead.” He flicked her head with his finger as he assembled his own kit. “Since when did you start thinking with your heart anyway? ” Since her father had hurt her family. Again. He had killed the one precious person she loved. He would not take another loved one from her. At nine, she had been helpless to rescue Jarod. Well, she wasn’t helpless now. She tucked the gun into the holster at her waist then caught the extra clip Alain tossed. She gazed at the painting Max bought her. Somehow in the chaos of her living room, it had a calming effect. The colors soothed her. Then she saw it, what the artist was conveying. The chaotic coils of color were messy and didn’t fit but in the eye of the storm, the red dot became a heart from a faint line smearing the circle. Love made the messiest disaster beautiful. She really hoped so. “Fuck it. Where are we going to start looking? And,” he pointed the sharp point of his stiletto at her, “you better start thinking how he got your number. I hate unanswered puzzle pieces.” She nodded as she strapped on the utility belt that held a knife, a radio to keep her in contact with Alain, high-powered binoculars, flashlight, a universal tool that was a fancy gizmo with all kinds of tools and a small pouch filled with plastic cuffs, all standard equipment. She tucked her second magazine of bullets into a loop at the small of her back. There had been complaints a few years ago about metal cuffs making too much

noise and since no agent wanted to be detected, they had changed over to the narrow plastic bands. In her job, she rarely used them. The hotel door slammed open and they both reacted as one, drawing weapons on a very surprised Max. Damn it. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the gun she held. “You’re Max. I’m Alain. Let’s go.” When Mattie opened her mouth to object, one of Alain’s black eyebrows arched up, giving him a punk devil look. “You think he’s going to stay behind?” He snorted as he swung the narrow bag holding a broken down rifle. “You’re smarter than that.” He left first to retrieve the car and to give her time to explain. Mattie holstered her gun then shrugged on the black leather vest. “You have a gun, ” Max finally said. “Yes.” She grabbed her own bag and walked out. Max followed her and she wished he had shown up a few minutes later. Rather than wait for the elevator, they took the stairs. “Do you know how to use it?” She killed men from almost a thousand meters. Yes, she knew how to use her gun. “Yes.” Max was silent for a few minutes. “Do you plan on using it?” She stopped on a landing and looked at him. “Yes.” He frowned and nodded. “Good.” This had to be the weirdest conversation of her life. She continued down the stairs as she slipped her earpiece in and turned on the mike. “Are you there?” “I read ya. You better tell him who you are, Mattie. I don’t think he’ll believe you’re a fashion model anymore. Hurry up. You’re too slow. ” Mattie jogged down the stairs faster, both in response to Alain’s order and to outrun the questions in her head. How did she tell her lover she was an assassin? Each step she took, finding the words to tell Max about her secret life became harder. How much did she tell him? Did he truthfully want to know? If she were in his shoes, would she want to know? If her child’s life was hanging in the balance … yes. He asked nothing as he followed her. Did he trust her that much? Love her that much? Finally, the door to the parking lot appeared and she pushed the heavy door open. The SUV Alain had rented was parked right outside the door and she scrambled into the back seat, Max right behind her. They were rarely sanctioned to take civilians on a job. Someone always died. Alain had been right. Max wouldn’t stay behind. It wasn’t in him to walk away from a fight. The man hounded her enough. “Where am I going? ” Mattie directed him as she leaned between the seats, hooking her cell phone up to the fancy little computer belonging to Alain. The phone rang, startling her and she quickly accessed the programs while Alain pulled out a notepad. The man multitasked like no one else she knew. The last thing she wanted was for Max to hear the phone conversation. Alain, however, needed to know what was going on. They pulled over so her father wouldn’t hear the vehicle over the speakerphone the computer had transformed her cell into. “Hello.” “Hildy, my precious girl, how are you? I’ve missed you. ” His voice made her skin itch. She braced her feet on the headrest behind Alain, focusing on his black strands spiking up like a lion’s mane instead of the man beside her.

“Where’s Bree?” “She’s a very pretty girl. Reminds me of you. ” The words made her heart sink. She truly hoped not. Resting her forehead against her knees, she forced herself to breathe. “Granted,” her father said, “she’s not you. Pity. ” Thank you, she mouthed. Something tapped her feet and she looked at the pad Alain held. Stall. “I want to talk to Bree.” “I’m sorry, Hildy. She can’t come to the phone.” She moved fast. Diving towards Max, she clamped a hand over his mouth. A feral glint was in his eyes and she shook her head when he reached for the phone. Her father wove lies for a living. Until she was seven she had thought he had been a doctor at the hospital instead of a janitor. He lied and charmed his way out of everything. Lying, to Walter Adamson, was an art. “Why did you take her?” “Why … to get you, precious girl. I’ve missed you. ” Disgust rippled down her spine as she stared into Max’s eyes. His exhales brushed over the backs of her fingers. “I have all your pictures. My precious girl. Did you miss me? I remember everything. Do you? ” Max gently pulled her hand down. “I remember,” she whispered. The memories roared through her, strangling the screams gone unanswered or ignored her entire life. “What do you want?” “You. ” Her lashes flickered at the word exploding around them. Her hand fisted on Max’s shirt. She needed a landline, a connection to this reality and not the hellish one she had lived. Ten years. Ten years in a nightmare she hadn’t been able to escape; no one had ever believed her. She remembered every degrading touch, every visit to her room. The smell of stale beer still made her want to vomit and unless she was sleeping with Max, she always bolted the bedroom door. Old fears never died, they simply manifested. And now this demon of hell had Bree. She had brought this deviant monster into Max’s world. Tears burned in her eyes and she pushed down the scream in her throat. She was different now. She’d fight back. Her father’s breathing rasped through the small speakers and Mattie struggled to hear any sound of Bree. She refused to believe he had smothered her light like he had Jarod’s. Bree would live. Bree would walk away untouched. This time, Mattie would win. She looked over her shoulder at Alain who managed to drive, read his computer and take notes. Sometimes he did all three while drinking coffee. “Has your lover experienced all I taught you? ” Max jerked beneath her and once more she covered his mouth with her hand. Still, his growl was audible and his eyes narrowed. “What lover?” “Why, the great and wonderful Maxwell Grayson. ” There was a sharp stinging on her butt and she reached behind her for the notepad. No one knew about Max. They were rarely photographed together. In his bold printing, Alain had scribbled ‘How the fuck does he know that?’ Max took the pad and read the question. It was a good one. Mattie had no answer. He tore the paper off, crumpled it up, then pulled out his own pen. The soft scratching of ballpoint on paper filled the air. “Who?” “Maxwell Grayson, ” he growled. “The man you are fucking. The one befouling the body that belongs to me. Me!”

Max shut his eyes and a heavy sigh danced over her fingers. Sorry, she cried in her head. Sorry. I’m sorry. He tore the paper off while Alain snapped his fingers. Max tossed the pad to the other man while he flashed the note to her. Tears burned and her throat dried up. Simple. Eloquent. Treasured. Love you. That was it. No questions, no demands of an explanation. He caressed her cheek; then brushed her hand aside. He leaned down and the light press of his lips on her forehead nearly shattered her. There was another swat on her butt and Max retrieved the pad since Mattie couldn’t move. “No,” he whispered harshly. “Hell fucking no.” Mattie once more covered his mouth with her hand. She took the pad and read the instructions. She muffled Max as he strained to reach Alain. “So, you want to trade,” she said, bracing her foot on the back of Alain’s seat. “You let Bree go and you get me.” She braced all her weight against Max and tried to muffle the low growls escaping from him. “I don’t know. She’s such a pretty child. So precious. Untouched. Pure.” Max uncoiled and Mattie was pinned beneath a raging storm. He reached for the phone as a familiar snick filled the air. Mattie glanced over his shoulder to see Alain pointing a gun at Max. The two men glared at each other. “But,” she said quietly, “she’s not me.” Her father sighed. “No. No, she’s not you at all.” He hung up, the click sounding like a gunshot. “Don’t ever make me pull on you again,” Alain said. “Don’t fuck this up. You want your daughter home? Safe? Don’t fuck up.” “Did we get him?” she asked, struggling to calm her heart rate. Alain was right, she had to think with her head. “Yes.” She nodded and pushed Max back. “I’m going in. ” “Fuck that,” Max growled. Mattie climbed into the back, ignoring him, and began to put the rifle together. “Can you make the shot, Alain?” “Baby, if I can’t,” their gazes met in the rearview mirror, “I’m in the wrong damn business.” She nodded. “Where are we going?” He rattled off an unfamiliar address. He drove faster because they both knew there would be no trade. In her father’s eyes she was tainted goods now. He had her cell number, he knew about Max. How did he get all this information? “Stay with Alain, ” she said as she climbed over the seat and handed Alain the rifle. “I’m going with you. ” She really wanted him with her. He gave her strength. “No.” Some journeys she had to take alone. Confronting her father was one. “No,” she repeated softly. Alain whistled and she leaned between the seats to stare at the map on the monitor. He tapped a blinking light. “This is where you’re going. We don’t know the terrain. I don’t know what’s around him. Watch your ass.” She nodded and memorized the route to the house. She reached for the door handle when Max grabbed her arm. She looked at him. “You’re coming back to me, Mattie.”

She fought the urge to shrug. Who knew what could happen? She dove towards him, kissed him hard and fast then she was running through the neighborhood. Welcome to suburbia, she thought. She scrambled over a fence, ignored a yapping small dog as she ran through a yard, then took the second fence. There was a slight drop to the alley and she grunted as the shock of her landing vibrated up her legs. “You okay? ” Alain’s voice was a growl in her ear. “Yeah. How am I doing? ” “Good. You’re five minutes away. ” She ran faster. Five minutes could be the deciding factor between life and death. Move to the suburbs, enjoy the big trees, live next door to a child molester and murderer. Welcome, welcome, welcome. She cut through another yard. “Across the street. Five houses. Four. Three.” Two. One. She crouched behind a minivan as she eyed the regular-looking bungalow. She wished it was darker. Still, dusk was better than bright afternoon. “I’m going in.” “Damn it. I am not in position. Mattie! God damn it, Scorpio!” He roared her code name like the lion he was.

Chapter Five Unhooking her earpiece, she stuffed it down her turtleneck to muffle Alain’s curses. She drew her gun and ran in low. The gate didn’t look very sturdy. She eyed the hinges— rusted enough to give her away. Calm. She was going to do this right. She took the neighbor’s fence. She watched the pale yellow bungalow through the slats in the fence, looking for any sign of movement, but all the windows were covered. A scream of terror would be nice. She could see this on the news tonight as neighbors claimed, “He was such a nice man, ” when in truth he was the devil. Bracing her arms on the fence, Mattie pulled herself up with ease then hopped, landing in a crouch as she studied the tidy garden. Had he always been this meticulous? She couldn’t remember. The basement window beckoned, as did the sliding door. She headed for the window. Crouching, she eyed the screw on the hinges and thanked people who never updated their windows. Removing the utility tool from her belt, she eased the screwdriver free and went to work. There was this clock in her head, ticking down the minutes until her father snapped. When he did… She really hoped he still drank and was getting ripped. She needed the distraction. The screws fell silently to the earth and she slipped the flathead between the window and frame searching for the flimsy lock. After a couple of tries it flipped up. Please, don’t let him be down here. She leaned all her weight on the tool. Paint snapped and cracked while wood groaned in agony. She wiggled her arm in, and deciding she was making enough noise, braced her feet on the wall and simply pushed the window down, ripping the inner hinge free with a satisfying crack. No windows opened. No curtains stirred above her. The silence was creeping her out. She turned and slid in backwards, praying there weren’t breakables in her way. She let go of the sill and dropped to a crouch. Come on, baby, give me a clue to where you are. She exchanged her universal tool for the flashlight, snapping it on to get a layout then releasing the button. Storage. Years of lies, no doubt. After her eyes adjusted, she began to pick her way through the crap. She doubted Bree was down here since it would be a pain in the ass to get to her, but she still checked all the large appliances. An eight- year-old could be put in a lot of places. She hated that thought. The stairs made her nervous. Did they creak? Groan? She crawled up them, letting her hands test for any give in the wood that would signal a possible loose board. She found two and easily avoided them. The house had a stale, unused smell from all the barricaded windows. She could hear someone muttering. Pacing. She pulled out her gun and explored the main floor; there was no one around. The only room she had left to look was the master bedroom. Where was he? Where was Bree? He was here. He had to be here. She pressed her ear to the closed door, frowning at the silence. This was creeping her out like nothing ever had because she could hear a muffled

voice but couldn’t find him. She he ld her breath as she opened the door half way and gave the room a quick scan. The walls were covered in glossy images of her. She walked in and felt twitchy at all the pictures of her displayed for his viewing pleasure. “Shit,” she whispered as she looked at the school pictures with her face carefully cut out and pasted on photos of women bound and chained. Holy shit. She jumped as a scream came from above and Mattie shone her light up towards the attic. Fuck. Bree. She snatched up the stool before one wall. She refused to think what he did, sitting here. She found the attic hutch and climbed up on the stool, pausing long enough to reconnect with Alain through her earpiece to advise him that her father was in the roof. She ignored all her training, determined to get to Bree. He was not going to hurt Max’s baby. He was not going to touch her. She pushed the attic door up and over then hoisted herself up. She saw him, his body bent over a small bed. “No,” she said. He spun around and she shone the light in his eyes. “Bree, baby, are you okay? ” “Mattie,” she sobbed. “I want to go home.” “I know, baby. ” She watched her father as he lifted an arm to block the beam. “Step away from her or I swear to God, I’ll drop you where you stand.” She wanted to. Her finger itched to squeeze the trigger, but not in front of Bree. She didn’t need to witness this. Mattie walked towards the bed as her father moved back, his gaze riveted on the gun. Her bed. He had kept the bed he had raped her in for ten long years. Tied to the bed, Bree was at least fully clothed. Tears trickled from her eyes and she twisted to free herself. Mattie looked at her father. Her stomach clenched at the sight of him as phantom hands touched her. He looked the same … like a monster. “Hildy, ” he whispered as he wiped his mouth. “My precious Hildy. ” Precious. How she loathed that word. Her skin crawled as she remembered every time he called her precious. She removed her knife, checked the rope at Bree’s wrist by feel, never taking her eyes away from her father, and quickly slashed it away. She’d have to cuff her father, but she loathed getting that close to him. Plus she had no backup. He rubbed a hand over his heart and she hoped he was having a heart attack. Without moving her eyes, she leaned over Bree and cut her other arm free. “I want Daddy, ” Bree whispered as she looked up at Mattie. Yeah, she wanted Bree’s daddy too. “Go,” she said softly. “No,” the girl sobbed, shaking her head. “I wanna stay with you. ” “Go. Your dad is waiting for you. Please, Bree, go.” She wanted to hug her to reassure herself the child was okay. Instead, she caressed her cheek. “I love you, baby, but you have to go. Okay? I’m right behind you. ” Bree nodded and stumbled towards the hole in the floor. Mattie watched as she carefully sat down, her legs dangling, then flipped onto her stomach. From across the room, Mattie could hear her tears. They ripped at her heart. How could she let her leave alone? She fought the urge to rub her heart like her father had. Bree wiggled backwards; the n disappeared from sight. Mattie stood and faced her father. “You came back. I knew you would.” He walked towards her and she tightened her grip on the gun. She would not remember him coming to her room, stinking of old booze. She would not remember him lying to any adult she told that she was an imaginative

child who missed her mother and was looking for attention. Grownups finally stopped listening to her and Mattie had finally stopped telling. “Don’t.” He continued forward until his chest rested against the gun, as if he didn’t fear her at all. “I didn’t touch her,” he admitted in a soft, cooing voice that made her want to throw up. He rubbed his thumb down her cheek and she pulled her head backwards. “She wasn’t you. None of them were you. It’s why they had to die. They lied to me. They weren’t you. ” Them. Her heart withered as she began to breathe quickly. Them. Squeeze the trigger. Kill him. It’s your job, Scorpio. Kill the monsters. How many girls had he stolen? How many girls had been bound in horror on that bed? How many? She screamed the questions at him in her head, her voice unable to make a sound. Kill him. Now. “Did you miss me, Hildy? ” “Mattie.” She gasped and looked at the man standing there. Tears burned in her eyes while her throat squeezed. He had come. “Max, ” she whispered. Her finger jerked on the trigger but not hard enough to fire the gun. “Mattie, come home.” She looked at her father. Her monster. He had taken the first person she loved. He had made her this killing machine. Good, bad … they both killed. His shirt was dimpled around the muzzle of her gun and she could see the sweat stains under his arms. The sheen in his eyes was from fear and arousal. “He has to die,” she whispered as she stared into her father’s dark eyes. Jarod. Sweet Jarod, who had only been a baby. Bree. Those other, nameless, faceless girls. Herself. She shifted the gun, pressing the muzzle against his forehead. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, dropped off his silver and black eyebrow then slid down his cheek like a tear. “Mattie, lower the gun. ” “He’s done stuff, Max. Horrible things. All those girls,” she whispered, counting herself among them. Max’s hand wrapped around her wrist and the heat of his fingers sank into her. One squeeze and little girls around the world would be safe. She couldn’t catch her breath as she stared into her father’s eyes. “Jarod. He killed my brother. He was three. A baby. Did you know that, Max? One day Mom came back and left Jarod before she disappeared again. He suffocated him. All those children he killed. He has to die.” “Not like this. You don’t want to do this.” With barely any pressure, Max lowered her arm. “Bree’s waiting for you, Mattie. She’s right below us. The police are here, baby. Don’t you hear them? ” Police? Who had called the police? Alain wouldn’t. Max. Max had called the police. Now she could hear the sirens. She didn’t want Bree to live with the sound of a gunshot ringing in her ears. Thumbing the safety on, she felt only a devouring hollowness. She wanted to kill him. “He shouldn’t live,” she whispered. “No, he shouldn’t.” One moment was all she needed to rid the world of a monster. Instead, Max pried the gun out of her hand and tucked it into the waist of his jeans. A voice barked at her father to put his hands up. Police? What could they do? Monsters always oozed out into the light of day. Max took her hand and pulled her out of the attic that now swarmed with too

many bodies, sucking up the air. “Hildy, don’t go! Don’t leave me!” Max climbed down first, and she wished she had her gun. If the police saw it there would be questions. Her father had to die. Not jail. Jail was too good for him. She sat down and felt Max’s hand cup her thighs then pull her forward. Her father screamed her name but couldn’t hear him over the roar in her ears. She hadn’t killed the monster. “That’s my job, you know. ” Max’s voice was low like hers. “What, baby? ” “I kill the monsters. It’s who I am. Who you love. A killer.” “Hildy! ” The shout made her flinch. “He’ll never love you like I do.” And that, sadly, was probably the most honest truth her father had ever uttered. **** The water would never be hot enough. She was never going to be warm again. She hadn’t killed the monster. With the water cascading over her she finally let her tears fall. He hadn’t touched Bree. A doctor had verified it. She had almost collapsed when the verdict was delivered. She ached to go down the hall to make sure Bree was where she was supposed to be. Her grandmother was sleeping with her tonight. Hopefully both would heal. There was another victim to her father’s evil. He had taken the persona of Jerry Waldon to get close to Mattie, and in the process seduced Sandrine’s warm heart. It explained how he was able to get Bree, how he got her phone number and how he knew about Max. He hadn’t been a stranger. He had been in this house. If she had only gone to meet Sandrine’s date, she could have halted it all. There was no sound, but she lifted her head and met Max’s gaze through the glass door of his shower stall. He crossed the room in three large strides and yanked the door open. “Aww, Mattie.” He stepped in; unmindful of the shorts he wore. He closed the door and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t cry this way, baby. ” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tight. She was scared he’d come to his senses and remember she was to blame for all of this. “I’m sorry, ” she whispered against his neck. “I couldn’t save him. That was my job. To look after Jarod. He was just a baby. I couldn’t save him. He did things to me, Max. Raped me. For years. And then he took Bree. I’m sorry. So sorry. ” She was always hurting those she loved, betraying their safety. She felt his hand fist in her hair and he pulled her head back. The dangerous glint in his eyes made her ache and her sore heart withered. “Don’t you ever say that, Mattie. You’re not the monster. He is. Do you understand? This is not your fault!” It was, though. He had come into their safe world for her. “But…” “No,” he growled, and covered her mouth with his, halting her argument. “Are you looking for an excuse to walk away? Is that what this bullshit is, Mattie?” Was she? “No,” she answered but she wasn’t sure. It would be better if she did. They could heal; forget the Adamsons had brought terror into their family. “I think it is. You want to run away. I deserve to know why. ” “He hurt your family.” Max swore and slammed his fist against the shower wall. The glass vibrated beneath

the blow. “Not like you’re hurting me! God damn it, Mattie. You want to go? You want to run? ” He pushed the door open and swept his arm to encompass his bathroom. “Then you go.” Mattie looked at his arm, at the water splashing onto the tile floor and finally she looked at Max. “I’ve done bad things, Max. I’m not a good person. ” He sighed and closed the door. The opportunity to walk away was gone. She almost wept in relief. “Dad used to tell me what happened yesterday doesn’t count. Today matters. I don’t want to know what you did, Mattie.” He pushed her wet hair off her face and tugged her so they were flush. “Why are you determined to run from me, Mattie? What scares you? ” Her lips parted and she gasped for air. What scared her? Waking up one day and finding him gone. “What if…” Caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, he shook his head. “What ifs don’t count. I want something tangible.” “But…” Again he shook his head. “Me,” she finally answered. “I scare me.” His smirk was smug. She sighed. He was bound and determined to make her say it. Could she let go of her ghosts of Jarod and all those faces she had looked at through her sights? The memories of her father? That’s what she needed to do. Yesterday didn’t count. She tipped her face back and let the water wash over her. Was she worthy of accepting Max’s love? By holding onto a lifetime of yesterdays, she wasn’t because then her father won. She didn’t want him to win anything. This time, she would be the winner. She cupped his face and kissed Max, unleashing everything in her. “Damn you, Maxwell Grayson. I love you. ” She felt his smile before he pinned her to the tiled wall, his shorts miraculously gone. The man could strip pretty damn fast when he had his mind set on getting naked. “I know, ” he said as he lifted her up then sank into her without a by-your- leave. “Don’t you feel better now?” She wrapped her legs around him. “Well, if you worked a little harder, maybe I would.”

Epilogue Leo walked unnoticed out of the police station and dropped the photograph into an envelope. It wasn’t his best work, but the story was eloquent and complete. He removed the backing on the sticky flap and tossed it into the mail. The minute he’d seen Scorpio with Max he’d known she was done. In the beginning, she had never enjoyed the game, the hunt. She saw monsters needing to be exterminated. He had terminated hers. It was the least he could do. She deserved to sleep at night knowing the son of a bitch would never hurt her again. He jaywalked across the street and let the crowd absorb him like the ghost he was. The End About the Author: The voices in her head. They compel Jenna to do things like write. That’s probably the best alternative because the voices could be telling her to clean her condo. Because she is allergic to cleaning, Jenna can most often be found sitting at her computer where she’s supposed to be writing but usually she’s surfing the net or rapidly pressing her email button. Living in the wilds of Calgary, Alberta, Jenna’s not quite as lucky as her heroines, having no hunky guy to call her own. But considering the avalanche of books in her bedroom and the layer of dust coating everything but her iBook, that’s probably a good thing. Since this writer is a lonely creature and is a slave to the voices in her head that demand really good stories, great sex and maybe a weapon or two, Jenna’s starved for human contact and will happily talk to anyone unfortunate enough to email her. Test the theory by visiting her website at www.jennahoward.com

Meet LSB Authors At Silver Net, Aka The House Of Sin Http://Lsbooks.NET We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances. Featured Series: The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs The Raven Series by Rhiannon Neeley Seven books about the brooding Raven family of vampire hunters The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay The Max Series by JB Skully Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother… And many, many more!