Mine To Have (Mine - Romantic Suspense Book 5)

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Cynthia Eden continues her sexy “Mine”
romantic suspense series with…MINE TO HAVE.

Is he a hero…or the villain?

When Elizabeth Ward sees Saxon Black rushing into the backroom of The Blade—a low end bar in
Miami—she isn’t sure if he’s there to save the day…or just to raise some hell. But she’s being held
hostage, and he’s her best hope of survival. Within minutes, she’s away from the jerks with the guns
and riding fast and hard on the back of Saxon’s motorcycle.

Death stalks them.

Saxon has been working undercover for far too long. When he finds sexy Elizabeth—with a gun to her
head—he knows he will do anything to keep her safe. But once he gets her away from her abductors,
the threat to her isn’t over. Someone has put a price on Elizabeth’s head, and if Saxon can’t keep her
safe from the danger stalking her, then she’ll be dead.

Their lives are both on the line.

As their enemies close in, Elizabeth and Saxon must go on the run.  And the longer they are together,
the hotter their attraction for one another seems to burn.   Saxon vows not to let anyone hurt her, no
matter what he has to do, because he’s falling fast for Elizabeth. He’ll stop the killers on her trail, and
then he’ll have her.  Forever.

Chapter One

Saxon Black walked into the bar as if he owned the place. He’d learned long ago never to show

weakness—weakness only brought a guy trouble—so he sauntered right into that pit of hell with a
broad smile on his face and with his hands clenched into battle ready fists.

This is the last damn job I take. The last one. I don’t care what Vic says.
There hadn’t been time for a full briefing on this mission. He’d been in the area, positioned

perfectly, and he’d been told to move into The Blade right fucking then.

The bar was filled with a mixed crowd—bikers and wanna-be bikers. Men covered in tats and

women in sexy leather. Others were there, folks flashing cash, men in clothes that cost far too much
money. He strode past them all, not even pausing as his gaze swept that crowd. When someone got in
his way, he just moved that someone out of his path. Not too gently.

His gaze found the door marked PRIVATE. A guard was there, body too tight and with what Saxon

knew was a gun tucked under his jacket. Hardening his jaw, Saxon headed right for the guy.

The fellow’s hand slammed down on Saxon’s chest. “We got a private meeting in there!” he

barked. “So back the hell off!”

Saxon smiled as he glanced down at the guy’s hand. The man had made a mistake. He’d reached

out and grabbed Saxon with his right hand. That was obviously the guy’s dominant hand, so he
wouldn’t be able to pull the gun as quickly with his left.

“Obviously,” Saxon muttered as his hand flew up and he caught the man’s wrist, “you don’t know

who I am.” A man with an image to maintain. He twisted the jerk’s wrist, didn’t break it, not yet,
but the guard howled and dropped to the floor.

Easy enough. The bigger they are, the easier they fall.
Now that the guard was out of the way, Saxon kicked in the door.
A lot of things happened at once then—and he’d sure as hell not been expecting any of them.
A woman screamed when she saw him. A woman with deep green eyes and terror stamped on a

beautiful face that should never show fear. She was tied in a chair, the ropes tight around her, and a
gun was pressed to her temple.

The hell, no.
A man charged at Saxon. An idiot with big fists who didn’t know how to deliver a punch to take

down his enemy. Saxon dodged his blows and drove his own fist into the guy’s jaw. The man’s grunt
was drowned out by the woman’s scream. Saxon took a fast, lunging step toward her.

“Saxon.” His name was snarled. Snarled by the bastard holding the gun on the pretty blonde. “You

need to walk away. This doesn’t concern you.”

Ah, but sadly, it did.
No one else had come charging into the room, even though he knew the folks behind him must have

heard the blonde’s scream. The people in The Blade weren’t exactly big on helping. Neither was he.
Not generally, but this was one of those special situations. I’ve got to follow Vic’s orders.

“Please,” she said, and when his gaze returned to her face, he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Such

insanely deep eyes. “Th-there’s been a mistake. Help me.”

He didn’t like seeing that gun at her head. And he sure as shit didn’t like the bruise that slid over

one high cheekbone.

The fool on the floor—really, one punch had taken down the guy—was trying to rise. Two more

men were behind the idiot with the gun.

“Walk away,” the idiot said—Saxon recognized the guy as Kurt Taggert. A real piece of work. A

man who would do anything, if the price was right. But his specialty—his specialty was murder. If
you wanted someone eliminated, then the word on the street said to hire Taggert.

Saxon rolled back his shoulders and turned for the door. Only instead of walking through it and

heading back out into the bar, he slammed the door. Hard. He’d broken the lock when he kicked the
door in, so there was no way to secure the room. He’d have to make sure that he stayed alert for all
attacks. After a brief moment, Saxon turned back to the little group. No one had moved. The blonde
still looked terrified.

His gaze swept over her, slowly. She was wearing a skirt, one that revealed long and perfect legs.

Her feet were bare, so he could see the red on her toe nails. Cute fucking feet, too. He sighed. His
gaze drifted back up her body—nice breasts, round, high. Probably would fit great in his hands and—

“What the hell are you doing?” Kurt demanded. “I told you to get out!”
“I like her.” The words were growled. Low.
And they made fresh fear appear in the blonde’s green eyes.
“Too bad,” Kurt told him, with a hard shake of his head. “She’s not yours.”
Ah, but she would be. “How much do you want?” Saxon asked him.
Another tear rolled down her cheek. He really didn’t like that shit. Saxon had a rule about women

crying—they fucking shouldn’t. At least, not around him.

Kurt jerked the gun away from the woman’s face and aimed it at Saxon. Kurt’s goons moved

forward, as if that had been a signal they were waiting to get from their boss. “She’s not for sale,”
Kurt said flatly.

“Sure, she is. Everyone has a price.” A lesson he’d learned early in life. Saxon kept his body loose

and ready for an attack. “How much for an hour with her?”

The blonde’s mouth dropped open. Then she screamed. Loud, ear-piercing.
The gun was heading back toward her head. Saxon was afraid that Kurt was going to hit her with it,

or, much worse, just shoot her right there. So he lunged forward and put his hand over her mouth.
“Screaming can come later, baby,” he told her.

Her gaze—terrified, stark—met his.
He smiled at her. Unfortunately, he knew the sight wouldn’t exactly be reassuring.
Kurt shoved the gun against Saxon’s chest. “I don’t care who you are,” Kurt told him. “I don’t

care if the others jump when you appear, I don’t give a shit about—”

“You’re just going to kill her.”
She shuddered in the chair.
“That’s what you do, right, Kurt? If the money’s right, you take the hit. Just like you did on Jenny

Long.” He threw that name out deliberately.

Kurt laughed, and his face—thin, a bit rat-like, gleamed for a moment with pleasure. “The money

was very right with her. Freaking FBI turncoat. She deserved all the pain I gave her.”

No, she hadn’t. Jenny had been a good woman and a standout FBI agent. Saxon’s back teeth

ground together. “I only want an hour, then you can have her back.” Lies and truth didn’t matter to
Saxon. They couldn’t. Not in the world he lived in.

“She’s got to suffer,” Kurt said, as if that should be obvious. “Her pain is part of the deal.” The

gun was still pressed to Saxon’s chest. An annoyance. One that Kurt would regret.

Saxon looked down at the gun. “How much were you paid for her?”
“Ten thousand.”
The woman was trying to talk behind Saxon’s hand. Muttering frantically.
“And unless you’re going to give me ten grand for that hour with her—then you need to get the hell

out of here. Because I’m supposed to be dumping her body in forty-five minutes.”

Her muttering stopped.
Saxon sighed. “It just couldn’t be easy…”
“What?” Kurt demanded.
“My night.” Then Saxon grabbed the gun, he jerked it right out of Kurt’s grip because the idiot

hadn’t been expecting him to attack. Saxon drove his elbow into Kurt’s face and heard the bones
crack as the guy’s nose broke. The goons in the back lunged forward. They were drawing their own
weapons.

Saxon shot them. He didn’t kill them, because killing hadn’t been on his agenda, not that night

anyway. But the men went down, groaning in pain.

The guy he’d taken down when he first came into the room—that guy tried to play hero again. He

tackled Saxon, sending them both to the floor. Only Saxon was stronger in that little fight, and a fast
slam had the guy’s head hitting the rough cement that served as the floor, and the guy didn’t bounce
back to his feet.

Kurt rushed out the door. The coward had let his men fight while he ran. Now Kurt probably

thought he’d get more backup from the others in The Blade. And if the guy brought more folks in
there, Saxon would have to keep fighting. “I don’t have time for this shit,” Saxon muttered.

He pulled his knife from the sheath around his left ankle. Then he headed toward the blonde. He

hadn’t thought it would be possible for her eyes to get any bigger, but they were huge right then.

“Please, don’t…there has to be a mistake! I—ahh!”
The knife sliced through her ropes and her scream cut off.
He hauled her up and onto her feet. “Here’s how this is going down, sweetheart.”
She was staring at him in shock. Right, like women hadn’t done that before. But then she gave a

hard shake of her head. “I’m…Elizabeth. Elizabeth Ward. I need—”

He waved that away. They could talk about needs later. Right now, it was ass-hauling time. “We’re

going out the back. You’re not going to scream. You’re not going to fight me. Because if you do either
of those things, you’ll be dead.”

Her lips were full, plump, and currently trembling. “Y-you’ll kill me?”
He grabbed her arm and ran for the back door. “Have you realized it yet? I’m your hero. The only

guy who can keep you alive.” He shoved open that door, and they ran into the back alley. It was pitch
black out there because it was a cloudy night and they had no stars or moonlight to spill down on
them.

Voices shouted behind him. Uh, oh. He glanced back. Kurt had come with his reinforcements.

“Should have given me my hour,” Saxon called out to the prick. “So now…I’ll just take more.”

He kept his grip tight on her and hauled ass. Lucky for them both, he had excellent night vision—

and a motorcycle that wasn’t too far away. He jumped on his bike, shoved the helmet at her, and had
that engine growling to sweet life in seconds.

“Get on,” he ordered her.
She hesitated.
Kurt shouted, “Bitch, I will kill—”
She got on the motorcycle.
Saxon’s hands flexed around the handlebars. “Hold on. Tight.”
Her fingers tentatively curled around him.
“Tight,” he snapped. What the hell? Did she think they were about to go for a Sunday drive?
Gunfire blasted at them. He ducked, and those bastards were lucky because their bullets missed his

bike. If they’d hit his ride, he would have gone back and kicked their asses—mission orders or no
orders.

He revved the engine then turned around—and headed right for his pursuers.
Kurt was shouting orders. The others were trying to make a human wall in that alley, sealing Saxon

and his blonde inside. So he just went straight for the wall of bodies. If the guys didn’t get out of his
way, he’d go right over them—no, right through them.

More gunfire blasted. The bullet came so close to Saxon’s arm that he could almost feel the burn on

his skin. I’m lucky they don’t have better aim. Then the fools were scrambling out of his way even as
the blonde behind him held on with a tight, death grip.

They raced into the night. And he didn’t look back, not even once.

***

Elizabeth Ward held onto the man before her for dear life. He was riding that giant beast of a

motorcycle way too fast. The wind whipped around her, her thighs vibrated from the powerful engine,
and her hands—her hands were locked around the guy who’d been called Saxon.

Hero, my ass. She’d seen the way the guy looked at her. She knew what he planned to do. Kurt had

been intent on Elizabeth’s torture and death. This guy—big, blond, and scary as all hell—had other
plans.

He wanted her. There had been no mistaking the flare of lust in his eyes, and if she didn’t get away

from him soon, Elizabeth was afraid she’d be facing a whole new nightmare.

He turned off the road. They’d zigged and zagged all over Miami, and she had no clue where they

were right then. Wait, no, check that—they were in another alley. Near another rundown building.
Lost.

Only, this time, he actually stopped the bike. He threw down the kickstand and killed the engine.
“I think we ditched them.” Because Kurt and his jerk battalion had tried to follow them. Only Kurt

hadn’t been able to keep up with the motorcycle, not when it cut so easily through the city.

Unlike Elizabeth, Mr. Big, Scary, and Dangerous wasn’t wearing a helmet. Probably because the

guy had a death wish. Probably because—

“You can let go now.” His voice was the deepest, darkest rumble she’d ever heard, and it actually

took a few seconds for his words to sink in.

When they did, she was horrified. Her hands flew away from him and she shot off that motorcycle.

A bad move, really, because her thighs were still shaking from the ride, and Elizabeth hit the ground.

Smooth move.
She pushed up fast, though, and staggered to her feet. Elizabeth tossed away her helmet and ran.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get far. A big, strong hand caught her shoulder and spun her around. In the

next breath, her back was being pushed into the nearby brick wall, and Saxon had her hands pinned
above her head. He held her easily, her wrists trapped in one of his hands.

“Didn’t we cover this?” he muttered, and his voice, if possible, had gone even deeper. “No

screaming, no running—”

“No fighting,” she whispered back to him. “You said no…fighting. You never said I couldn’t run.”
He laughed then. A sound that was as deep as his voice and sent shivers racing over her body.
A man wasn’t supposed to laugh when a woman was terrified. She knew nothing about the guy

except for the fact that she’d seen him shoot two men and beat the crap out of at least two more. And
he’d said he…wanted her.

For an hour.
“Please, let me go.” Elizabeth wasn’t above begging, not then. She just wanted to survive that night.

To get back to her apartment and pretend this whole terrible nightmare had never happened. “I won’t
go to the police, I promise. I won’t tell them anything about you.”

His head came closer to hers. She couldn’t discern much about him in that moment, it was too dark,

but she’d seen plenty in that terrible little room.

Saxon. He’d been huge, filling that doorway. He had to be at least six foot three, and his shoulders

had been so wide, his arms heavy with muscles. He wore a faded t-shirt and loose jeans. He’d fought
with a cold, vicious fury, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat when he’d taken down his enemies.

I thought Kurt was scary. He’s nothing compared to this guy.
“I don’t want to let you go.”
Those words terrified her. No, he terrified her. He leaned even closer. She could feel the light

stir of his breath against her cheek. She had a flash of being tied in that chair and looking up—and
into a pair of dark and deadly eyes.

And I asked him for help? A desperate woman would do anything. And she was desperate right

then.

So…Elizabeth didn’t fight his hold. She relaxed her body. If he wants me…Her mouth skimmed

over his jaw. A light, soft kiss. Hesitant. She felt the rough edge of his stubble against her. She also
felt his body tense.

“What are you doing?” Saxon demanded. There was no accent to his voice. Just flat, hard darkness.
She kissed his jaw again, and forced herself to whisper, “You wanted an hour, right?” Oh, dear

God, had she just said that? But being with him, right then, was still better than being held back in
that little room at The Blade, with a gun against her head.

How did this happen? I was walking home, and those men just grabbed me. I kept trying to tell

them they had the wrong woman—no one would listen! No one would help me!

“I’ll give you an hour,” Elizabeth promised him. She rose onto her toes and pressed a light kiss to

his lips. “If you…if you let me go.”

His body stiffened even more against her, as if he were locking his muscles.
“Please…”
He shook his head. Terror squeezed her heart. She kissed him again. More frantically, wild now

because this was her only hope. He was her ticket to freedom. They’d ditched the others, and now she
just had to deal with him.

A growl built in his throat, and his hand tightened around her wrists. “Be careful,” he warned her.
She didn’t have time to be careful. Her tongue licked over his lips and—
He kissed her back. His mouth parted, and he took control. His lips were demanding on hers, his

desire obvious in the way his tongue thrust into her mouth and the rising bulge in his jeans that she
could feel shoving against her. His right hand curled under her chin, and he tilted her head up so that
he could kiss her even deeper.

“Fucking taste delicious,” he bit off against her mouth. “So sweet…” His tongue swept past her

lips again. He shifted his stance just a bit as he tried to get even closer to her.

And that was just what she’d been waiting for. Elizabeth’s knee came up in a fast and brutal hit.

She made perfect contact because his pained grunt filled her ears and his grip eased on her hands.
Elizabeth tore away from him and she ran as fast as she could.

Don’t fight?
Don’t scream?
Don’t run?
She opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could. Oh, hell, yes, she was going to scream.

She was going to fight. She was going to run. There was no way she’d just die easily.

His footsteps pounded behind her. Her bare feet hurt as she ran over that rough street. She’d lost

her high heels when those jerks grabbed her outside of her apartment.

She turned to the left. Saw only another alley waiting. But music was blaring in the distance, a

Latin beat, and she knew that music meant people. If she could just get there, she’d survive. She’d
find real help and not just—

“Freeze.”
She’d finally found light. A weak street light that fell down on the man before her. A man who was

holding a gun.

Elizabeth froze.
She could hear the sound of Saxon’s thudding footsteps growing closer.
The man with the gun—she couldn’t see much of his face because the light was behind him. He was

big, with shoulders nearly as broad as Saxon’s. And his hold on that weapon wasn’t wavering.

Could this night get any worse for her?
Saxon’s hands closed around her shoulders.
Yes, the night just got worse. So much for her run at freedom.
“The rules were simple.” Saxon spun her around to face him. “Were you trying to piss me off?”
“I was trying to stay alive! I was trying—”
“I don’t have time for this shit.” That voice belonged to the man with the gun. “Saxon, get her in the

van and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Wait—no. No, that guy could not be working with Saxon. But…but Saxon had just tossed her over

his shoulders like she was a sack of potatoes. She punched him. She kicked, but it didn’t matter. In
about three seconds, Elizabeth found herself in the back of a van, with Saxon right at her side.

“Move an inch,” he told her, voice flat, “and I’ll tie you up.”
She stared up at him as she tried to fight the panic that clawed at her insides. “Why? Why are you

doing this to me?”

The other guy was up front. He’d just cranked the engine. “Someone will take care of your bike,

Sax.”

Saxon grunted. “You owe me so much for this one.”
“You got the confession, and you saved the girl. That’s win, win,” the driver said as the van took

off.

What? She inched back against the side of that van.
“Stop,” Saxon ordered her. His hand closed around her shoulder. “My balls are blue, so I’m not in

the mood for your shit right now.”

And she wasn’t in the mood for this nightmare. “You can’t kidnap me! The cops will find you!

They’ll toss you in jail and they—”

Saxon was laughing. She decided that she hated his laughter.
“I’m not kidnapping you, sweetheart. I’m saving your gorgeous ass.” He caught her chin in his hand

once again. “Maybe you can thank me for that later.”

Saving her?
“Yeah, you’re fucking welcome.”
And the van kept driving hell fast into the night.

Chapter Two

Saxon kept a close eye on the blonde when they pulled up to the little no-tell-motel on the outskirts

of Miami. She hadn’t said anything else during the drive. Definitely not the “Thank you” that she
should have offered considering that he’d saved her life. And she sure hadn’t apologized for kneeing
him in the balls.

He hadn’t seen that one coming. It wasn’t often that Saxon was caught by surprise, but when the

sexy little tease had been pressing her body to his so temptingly and offering him the sweet heaven of
her mouth, he’d dropped his guard. Stupid mistake—thinking with his dick instead of his brain, so the
bit of pain had been earned.

He’d be sure not to make another dumbass mistake like that one again. No matter how pretty the

lady was. Besides, she was about to become SEP—someone else’s problem. And he was going to
ride off into the sunset. Hello, new life.

Good-bye, dark past.
He had too many ghosts dodging his steps. It was way past time to start fresh some place new.

He’d been counting down the days to this new life. Saving money. Planning every spare minute to turn
his dreams into reality.

“Keep a hand on her,” Victor Monroe ordered as they headed toward the motel. Victor had already

gotten the room for them. In a place like this, no questions would ever be asked. Privacy was a given.

Saxon kept a close hand on the woman. It was still dark outside, but as soon as they entered the

little motel room and Victor flipped on the lights, the blonde whirled to stare at them both with her
freaking amazing eyes. The greenest eyes he’d ever seen.

Her gaze darted between him and Victor, and he knew that neither one of them looked reassuring.
And he still had his hand on her.
“Ms. Ward,” Victor began in his smooth, I-Can-Take-Care-of-Shit voice, “I realize you’ve had a

terrifying night, but we’re here to help you.”

She swallowed. And didn’t look reassured.
Maybe she’d try to knee Victor in the balls, too. That would be fun.
But when she backed away, retreating nervously, Saxon dropped his hold on her. There were two

doors in that place. One led back to the parking lot. One led to the room next door—but if she tried to
make a run for that connecting room, he’d be on her in an instant. Quite simply, there was nowhere for
her to run.

“I-if you want to help me,” she said, “call the cops.”
Saxon liked her voice. Husky, rich. It made him think of tousled sheets and naked skin.
“Ma’am,” Victor drawled, “we are the cops.”
She blinked.
“I’m FBI Special Agent Victor Monroe, and this…” He waved his hand toward Saxon. “This man

saved your life tonight.”

Saxon pulled up his shirt. The wire was chaffing him. He tossed the shirt aside and felt her eyes on

his chest. He looked down and saw the small black wire and the black tape in the middle of his chest.
With a quick yank, he tossed the wire at Victor. “Guessing you got everything?”

“My men will have Kurt Taggert in custody by dawn.”
Damn straight. Then his work was done. Hello, freedom. No more changing his hair color every

few months for the undercover jobs, no more lies as he spent his days with the worst criminals in the
U.S. Paradise is waiting for me.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, pushing away the tension there. When he looked up, Elizabeth’s

eyes were on his chest. His lips quirked.

“You…you had on a wire?” Her gaze rose to meet his. “You’re FBI? I-I don’t believe it.”
Well, that was just insulting.
Victor slowly closed in on her. He pulled out his ID and offered it to Elizabeth. “We’re quite legit,

Ms. Ward.”

Her shaking fingers closed around the ID, but she didn’t look away from Saxon. “Why didn’t you

say something to me?”

And when should he have done that? “Before…or after I busted you out of The Blade?”
“I-in the alley. When we…when you—”
“When you were kissing me,” Saxon supplied. “Sweetheart, right then, my mouth was busy doing

other things.”

Her cheeks stained bright red. That was cute. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a

woman blush. The ladies he hung out with were usually long past the blushing stage.

“Ms. Ward…” Victor cleared his throat and pocketed his ID once more. “We’re going to need you

to testify against Kurt Taggert.”

“Who?”
“That would be the jerk who put the gun to your head,” Saxon told her. He noticed that Victor was

still standing close to Elizabeth. A bit too close. When he’d gotten the call from his buddy to move
in, get the confession at The Blade, and to save the victim inside…he’d sure never expected the
woman to be so…

Tempting.
“You’ll have to testify against him, Ms. Ward,” Victor continued. His blue eyes were fixed on

Elizabeth. “Kurt Taggert was hired to kill you tonight, and if it weren’t for Saxon, well, you’d be
dead now.”

She took a step back. “Hired to kill me? Me?” Her head shook, sending her blonde hair falling

over her shoulders. “Why would anyone want me dead?”

Why indeed? Her death would be such a waste. There were so many things Saxon could imagine

doing with her delectable body.

“You’re lucky we had eyes on The Blade,” Victor told her with a slow nod. “We saw you being

hauled in the back and I was able to send in a…rescue team.”

Her gaze was on Saxon once more.
He grinned. “That would be me.”
“You…you…FBI?” She sure seemed to be having trouble processing that bit of information. So

maybe he looked a little rough around the edges. He worked undercover assignments for a reason.
Because he fit so well in the darker parts of the world.

“We need names from you.” Victor started to pace around the small room. There wasn’t much

furniture in the place. An old desk—one with its right front leg propped up on a book. A faded chair.
A big bed. Nothing else. “Give us some suspects to run with here, Ms. Ward.”

“I don’t have suspects!” Her bare toes curled into the dark brown rug. “You know more than I do. I

mean…how did you even know my name?”

“I ran your picture through our database.” Victor waved that away. “Crimes like this are either

personal or professional. I already know that you work as a Public Relations specialist for a firm
here in Miami. Have you ruffled any feathers? Pissed off any colleagues?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” She pushed back her hair. “I mean, my biggest project has been a

fundraiser for the local children’s hospital. That isn’t the type of work that makes someone want to
kill me.” Elizabeth retreated another step. Did she even realize she was edging closer to the bed?
Saxon doubted it.

“Then maybe it’s personal,” Saxon said, and yeah, he took a step toward her. When he’d been

close to her in that alley, when her body had been pressed against his, the scent of sweet honey had
teased his nose. So maybe he wanted to catch that scent again.

Or maybe he just wanted to be closer to her.
“Ditch any lovers lately?” Saxon asked her because a woman like her, she’d have plenty of lovers.

Men who’d fight like hell to get in her bed. Like I would.

Her eyelids flickered, just a bit. Ah, there it was. Anger pumped through him. “We’ll need that

name.”

“He’s not a lover, okay. I may have been…dating someone, but that ended, all right? It ended

easily, without any big drama. And certainly without the guy wanting me dead!”

Saxon took another step toward her. She retreated until the back of her legs hit the side of the bed.

“A name,” he told her.

“Fine.” Her breath huffed out. “It’s not going to mean anything but—”
“A name.”
“Wesley Locke, okay?”
His gaze shot to Victor. He saw his buddy’s eyes squeeze shut. Keeping all emotion from his

voice, Saxon said, “One more time….”

“Wesley Locke. He’s a businessman here in Miami. He owns a few bars and he—he was helping

me raise money for my charity.”

The hell he’d been. Wesley Locke was a criminal straight to his core. His bars were just fronts for

his drug business. And if the guy had put a hit out on Elizabeth, then she’d probably seen something
that the woman hadn’t been meant to see.

So her hit had been both personal…and professional. The worst of both worlds.
“You’ll need to stay here with her,” Victor said to Saxon, voice low. “Until I can figure out what

the hell is going on, I have to make sure she stays safe.”

Hell. He’d been afraid Victor would say something like that. “Twenty-four hours,” Saxon gritted

out. Because he had plans, too. And Victor wasn’t about to drag him back into the business again.
“And then I’m done. Out. You know that.”

Victor closed the distance between them and slapped his hand on Saxon’s shoulder. “Whatever you

say, buddy.”

Saxon’s eyes narrowed.
“Uh, excuse me?”
They both turned to look at Elizabeth.
“I am not staying here. I have a home. A home I worked hard to get. I have a job waiting. I’m not

just vanishing for the night!”

Civilians could always be so hard to handle. “I don’t remember hearing that you had a choice in

the matter,” Saxon told her. “Vic, did you give the lady a choice?”

“Saxon…” A warning edge had entered Victor’s voice. That was Victor—always the careful one.

Not wanting to frighten folks when terror could be a very useful tool.

“Here’s the thing,” Saxon said as he turned to look at Elizabeth once more. “Your ex…he’s

trouble. Big damn trouble. And if Locke put a hit on you, just what do you think the guy is going to do
when he realizes that hit wasn’t successful?”

But she stubbornly shook her head. “Wesley wouldn’t do that. You don’t know him.”
And she was blind. Put a guy in a fancy suit, give him enough cash to toss around, and no one ever

suspected who the guy was beneath the surface. In my next life…no one will suspect me, either. No
one will see my darkness. “I know him,” he said grimly. “And if you walk out of that door now…”
He pointed to the door of motel room number thirteen. “Then you’re a dead woman.”

She didn’t move.
“Ms. Ward…” Ah, Victor was trying to calm the waters. “It’s just for twenty-four hours. Just long

enough for my men to bring Kurt Taggert into custody. He’ll point the finger at the man who hired him,
and we will take the next step then.”

She didn’t look reassured. “The next step…that will be me going home?”
“Your safety will be our highest priority.”
Did she notice that Victor didn’t answer her question? Probably not. The guy could be a slick

bastard.

“You had a gun to your head less than an hour ago,” Saxon reminded her bluntly. “You really want

to run away from the only guys offering you protection right now?”

She licked her lips. The sensual swipe of her pink tongue had his body tensing. She didn’t need to

do stuff like that, especially not when he was riding the hard edge that came from ending a mission.
Adrenaline pumped in his blood, and he couldn’t shake the memory of her sweet, hot mouth from his
mind. The things he wanted to do with that little pink tongue of hers…

Her voice was a whisper as she said, “You’re the good guys.”
Good? Not so much. But they were the guys who weren’t currently trying to kill her.
“It’s the weekend, Ms. Ward,” Victor told her. “No one from your job will even know you’re gone.

By Monday, this could all be a memory for you.”

Or it could be something else entirely.
But she nodded, obviously buying Victor’s words and thinking she’d be home free in a day.

“Twenty-four hours,” Elizabeth said as if she was agreeing to some kind of deal.

Victor smiled. “The FBI appreciates your cooperation.”
Bullshit. Did Elizabeth realize the FBI would have made her stay in that motel room? She’d never

had a choice in the matter.

When Victor turned for the door, Saxon followed him. Victor didn’t speak until they were outside.

“She doesn’t leave your sight,” he ordered.

Where was she supposed to go? “It’s a small motel room. I’ll be able to see her plenty.”
Victor grunted. “Try to keep your hands off her. This is business.”
But Saxon shook his head. “I just finished my last case for the FBI. I’m done.” He didn’t need the

paperwork to be processed. “This is a favor for a friend.” Because Victor was one of the few people
that he actually considered a friend.  Hell, Victor was family.  The bond they had went far deeper than
blood. “I’ll watch your blonde, and you go get those assholes off the street.” It was time to get justice
for Jenny Long and for all of the other victims that Kurt Taggert had claimed.  He wouldn’t be killing
anyone else.

Victor nodded. “I’ll call you when it’s clear.” Then he was gone. Saxon waited a few moments

before he headed back into that motel room. Lucky number thirteen.

When he opened the door, Elizabeth was exactly where he’d left her. Way too close to the bed and

looking far too sexy.

A victim. The woman is a victim. He was supposed to reassure victims. But the problem was that

Saxon wasn’t the suave one. Victor was the one who was so good at spouting BS.

“Can I…can I trust you?” Elizabeth asked him.
Just for the hell of it, he decided to be honest. “No.”
And the fear came back to her pretty face.

***

Kurt Taggert paced in front of the bar. The Blade had cleared out—his men had emptied out the

damn place right after Elizabeth Ward had vanished with that bastard Saxon. His nose had finally
stopped bleeding—Saxon had broken it, and he’d be sure to pay the jerk back.

As soon as we find him.
The guy’s motorcycle had been found, with its trademark skulls on the sides of the ride, but Saxon

had gone to ground some place in the city. The guy had a reputation for being one crazy bad-ass, a
man you weren’t supposed to ever cross. Kurt normally wouldn’t be going up against him, but this
wasn’t a normal situation.

He had to get Elizabeth Ward back.
His phone rang. Kurt looked down, and when he saw the number flashing on the screen, he started

to sweat. “H-hey, man,” Kurt said when he answered the call. “You didn’t—”

“Is she dead?” The flat, hard voice demanded.
Fuck me. I am so screwed. “There’s been an…incident.”
Silence. “She’s dead.”
She should be.
“An insane bastard named Saxon Black took her.” Didn’t that mean she was as good as dead? Kurt

figured Saxon would screw her, then eliminate her.

“What?”
“He…wanted her.” He’d seen the guy’s gaze rake Elizabeth’s body. Sure, she was pretty enough

for a fast fuck, but to take down Kurt’s men? Just to screw her? Saxon really was a crazy—

“She’s not dead.”
That icy tone had Kurt’s stomach knotting. Normally, it took a whole hell of a lot to scare him, but

this man—this man had power. Power that Kurt needed. If he turns on me, I’m done.

“I paid you ten thousand dollars to kill her. That’s what you do, right? You kill people.”
Kurt heard the creak of the floor behind him. He whirled around, and that tricky bastard was right

there, with the phone at his ear. Kurt had never even heard the fellow walk in. He really is as good
as they say.

“Killing people isn’t so hard,” the guy said as he lowered the phone. He put it into his pocket—

only to immediately bring his hand back up. This time, that hand was holding a knife. “It goes
something like this…”

Kurt tried to grab his own weapon, but the guy had already attacked. The knife sank into his chest

and Kurt slammed into the bar. He looked down and saw the blood covering his shirt.

“See? Not hard at all.”
Kurt hit the floor. He slammed down, hitting the dirty concrete floor of The Blade face-first.
“Never pay someone for the job you can do yourself.”
Kurt’s body felt cold.
“Your screw-up won’t be tied to me.”
“The…the FBI—” That was all he could manage. The pain was burning through him.
His attacker laughed. “They didn’t see me come in. You’re the one who screwed up. You knew

the FBI was keeping tabs on you—I told you that shit—and you still just brought that woman right in
the back door! People saw you!”

He’d been…following orders. He’d thought the guy standing over him—the man who’d just knifed

him—would help to protect him.

You really can’t trust anyone in this world.
And the bastard just left him there. With every painful breath that Kurt tried to suck in, he could

feel his blood pouring out of him. He fought to hold on to life, for just a few more moments because
he didn’t want to go out like this. Not on the floor, not with booze and trash around him. He was
better than this. He had plans. He was so much…better.

Every second seemed to stretch for an hour. Each breath was a painful saw from his lungs. He

tried to crawl forward, but his hands just slipped over the floor. He cried out, but there was no one
there to hear him.

All of my men…are out hunting. I’m going to…die alone.
His heart was still beating, and with every beat, more blood pushed from his body. He was in a

growing pool of his own blood, and he was so cold.

His eyes were sagging. He fought to keep them open. Then he heard the rush of footsteps. Coming

fast. He tried to turn his head toward the sound, but he couldn’t move.

“FBI!” A voice blasted.
If he could have, Kurt would have laughed then at the freaking irony. He was dying, and now the

FBI was coming to bust him. Too late, asshole. Too late.

“Kurt Taggert?” That voice demanded, then the guy started swearing.
He was flipped over and Kurt looked up. A man with dark hair and blue eyes glared at him.

“You’re going to die on me?”

Yeah, he was. At least that meant no one would be shoving him into a jail cell.
“Who did this?” The guy demanded. “Who shot you?” And the agent even put his hands on Kurt’s

chest, like he was going to help him.

He was long past help. He couldn’t even feel the man’s touch. He couldn’t feel anything. Funny…

he’d killed so many people and he’d never even wondered…is there anything after death?

Fear trickled through him. He tried to speak. Maybe jail wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would be

better than what waited after death. Kurt tried to tell the agent about the man who’d knifed him but…

Too late.

Chapter Three

“Where are you going to sleep?” Elizabeth asked as she stood near the too-big bed. The adrenaline

high had faded from her body, and exhaustion pulled at her. But before she collapsed, she had to do
one thing—make certain Saxon isn’t planning to climb into the bed with me.

His eyes, so dark and deep, drifted toward the bed. “Where do you think?”
No way. “You can’t sleep with me!”
Saxon’s lips quirked. His lips were…sexy. It was ridiculous to notice that, but she did. Sculpted

and firm, his lips had fit so well against her own. Do not go there, woman! Yes, she was seriously
exhausted. So exhausted that she was having crazy, sexual thoughts.

“Come on now, sweetheart, there’s plenty of room for the two of us in that bed.”
No, there wasn’t. Sure, the bed was big, but Saxon was huge. If they were both in that bed, their

bodies would be touching. Legs, arms—twining. The mental images flooded through her mind, and
Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn. Frantic now, she grabbed a pillow and the faded bedcover and sank to
her knees on the floor. “I’ll just bunk down here then, and you can take the—ah!”

He’d put his hands under her elbows and lifted her up. The guy’s strength was really impressive—

not that she was the type to be impressed. But he held her so easily, lifting her up until they were on
eye level. “You aren’t sleeping on the floor.”

His voice had deepened even more. Turned to more of a growl.
She swallowed. She shouldn’t have found that growl sexy. The man was scary. Her mind should be

screaming warnings at her and not slipping her little fantasies about the guy. Maybe she was going
crazy.

He lowered her onto the bed. “I’m not that much of a dick, no matter what you think. Stay in the

bed. I wasn’t planning on getting much sleep anyway.” Then he…he tucked her in. His hands were
oddly tender as he arranged the pillow beneath her head and then pulled up the covers. She was still
wearing her clothes—like she’d been going to ditch them—and his fingers skated lightly down her
arms.

She thought he might try to kiss her. Try to touch her somewhere else. Try to—
“You’re safe.”
He turned off the lights.
She blinked a few fast and frantic times as she tried to adjust to the darkness. Then she saw his

shadowy form lowering to the floor beside the bed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Silence then… “Ah, there it is. I knew that, sooner or later, you’d get around to saying those sweet

words.”

Tears wanted to fill her eyes because she realized that the man down there—the man who scared

her—was actually her savior. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead.”

“Yes.”
Well, he wasn’t pulling any punches.
“And it wouldn’t have been an easy death,” Saxon continued, his deep voice filling that dark room.

“The thing about Kurt Taggert…people don’t just hire him to kill. They hire him to torture. To make
his victims hurt.”

His words chilled her. Elizabeth turned onto her side and found herself inching closer to him in the

dark. “You sound as if…as if you’re speaking from personal experience.”

“He killed someone I know.”
She remembered what he’d said back at the bar. “Jenny.”
More silence. She didn’t like his silence. She liked the rumble of his voice. Elizabeth cleared her

throat. “He killed your…friend, Jenny?” Because Kurt had called her an FBI turncoat. And since
Saxon was FBI, too—

“He hurt Jenny. He found out that she was working undercover, and he took her…before I could do

anything to help her.”

There was pain in his voice. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to take that pain away. Instead,

her fingers fisted around her covers. “I’m sorry.”

“So the fuck am I. Jenny had a family. A husband who loved her. Now that husband has to bury

her.” His words were growled out, his fury evident. “Jenny wasn’t made for undercover work.
Some people just can’t handle it—becoming someone else for so long. She made a mistake, Kurt
caught it, and he caught her.”

Her lips pressed together. I would have died if it hadn’t been for Saxon. The truth was sinking in

and terrifying her now that they were cocooned in the darkness of the room. “You…you were
working undercover.” Because Kurt had been afraid of Saxon when the guy first burst into that back
room at The Blade.

“Yes.”
“How long have you been on this case?” A case that had obviously been designed to bring down

Taggert.

“Long enough.”
That wasn’t an answer. “Is your name really Saxon?”
“My legal name? Hell, no, but legal doesn’t matter, does it? I’ve been undercover for so long, I’m

not even sure I can remember who the hell I really am. Or what I really look like. My hair changes,
my eyes change—everything changes with each case. Some days, I almost forget who is staring back
at me from the mirror.”

She had the urge to touch him again. What was up with that? Elizabeth kept wanting to soothe him

but the guy was definitely not the soothing type. “How am I supposed to repay you?” she whispered.

“You could fuck me.”
Her jaw dropped.
And he laughed. “I wish I could see your face right now.”
Her cheeks were burning again. “I’m not having sex with you as payment!”
“Good…because I don’t pay for sex.”
But he’d just said—
“Teasing you is so much fun.”
Her eyes squeezed closed. “Good night, Saxon.” Her words held an edge of their own.
“Good night, Elizabeth.”
She shivered. It was the first time he’d actually called her by name. Such a low, rough voice. A

voice that seemed to perfectly fit the darkness.

“And if you get scared, just remember, I’m here.”
She kept her eyes closed and slowly, so slowly, she slipped into sleep.

***

“Victor?”
He turned at the voice and saw the two best agents on his team walking toward him. Tracy Adams

and Gary Warren. Tracy had gotten out of the Academy just two years ago, but the redhead had more
than proven herself on the cases she’d been given. Smart, dedicated, and not afraid to get her hands
bloody, Tracy always got the job done.

In many ways, Gary was Tracy’s opposite. He’d been working for the Bureau over fifteen years,

but he’d just joined Victor’s team a little less than two years ago. And field work, well, it wasn’t
exactly his specialty. The guy preferred to work in the wings, hunched over a computer as he called
the shots from a safe distance. He was Victor’s eyes and ears on so many of the undercover cases,
thanks to all of his gadgets.

And those eyes and ears should have been watching Taggert. Victor glared at Gary. “How the hell

did this happen?”

Tracy slanted a fast glance at her partner.
“All you had to do was keep the guy alive,” Victor said as his hands waved toward the stiff on the

floor. “I mean, you were wired to this place. Why the hell didn’t I know he was dead?” He’d busted
in the place, ready to take down Taggert, and the guy had been in a pool of his own blood.

Gary’s chin lifted and his face paled, but he held Victor’s stare. “Because someone cut my feeds. I

was trying to get them back up and running, but then you pulled in and—you found him.”

Victor’s fury surged. “If someone cut the feeds, why didn’t you storm inside?” Right damn away?
Now Gary looked at Tracy.
She swallowed. “I did, sir. I did a visual sweep. The area looked secure, so I went back out and

told Gary he had more time for the repair work. We were watching the front door and the back door,
so the guy wasn’t going to get out—”

Victor’s hands dropped. “He was dead. There was no point in him going out.” But the killer had

gotten out. Just waltzed right past them all. “Tell me you saw the man who did this.”

Tracy and Gary were silent.
“Not fucking good,” Victor snarled at them.
Gary backed up a step. Tracy’s chin lifted. She didn’t retreat, not ever. That was one of the things

Victor liked about her.

“Saxon has Elizabeth Ward in protective custody now,” Victor said. Tracy and Gary hadn’t even

realized that Saxon had been working the big Taggert case until about twenty-four hours ago. Saxon
had been in deep cover, and his status had been on a need-to-know basis. But when it came time for
Saxon to get wired up, Victor had informed the other two agents about Saxon’s role. When Victor had
wired up Saxon, he’d needed to bring them into the loop.

Then things went to shit when we saw Taggert dragging Elizabeth Ward into The Blade.
But, hell, at least they’d managed to save the girl. “He got her out, and I set them up in the

Moontree Motel.” He knew they’d both know the place. His team had used the location before

because it was so very good at being an off-the-radar spot. “But we need to help Saxon. We need to
find out why the hell someone is after Ms. Ward.” They had to find out and stop the SOB.

Gary nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m on it,” Tracy said.
They rushed away, and Victor turned back as Taggert was hauled out in a body bag.

***

Saxon stretched out on the floor. His hands were behind his head, the only cushion that he had.

He’d spent the night in much worse places. Much better ones, too.

Elizabeth was asleep. Her breathing had finally evened out, and she’d escaped her fears as she

sank into her dreams. He wondered if she’d have good dreams or if nightmares would come to haunt
her.

Saxon had one dream. The same dream he’d had for years.
Yeah, I do…I want to get the hell out of undercover work. I want to stop looking over my

shoulder every moment and wondering if I’m going to blow my cover. I want something good.
Something not tainted by evil…something that is mine.

The flash of headlights illuminated the motel room, and he tensed. A car door slammed a few

moments later, and he heard the thud of approaching footsteps. But those steps didn’t stop at room
number thirteen. They kept walking, and some of the battle-ready tension eased from his body.

He shifted his position a bit, and Saxon closed his eyes. He should try to get a little sleep, too.

Victor would be checking in soon, and then their time at the no-tell-motel would be at an end. It
would be—

The floor squeaked, the faintest sound that could have just been the building settling. It could have

been nothing, but Saxon knew the squeak for the threat it was.  His eyes shot open and, in the dark, he
could  just  make  out  the  shadowy  form  that  had  slipped  through  what  should  have  been  a locked
connecting door to  the room.  That figure was rushing toward the bed.

You don’t even see me on the floor, do you, asshole? That was the guy’s mistake. Saxon yanked

out the knife from his boot, and he threw it. The blade sank into the fellow’s shoulder and he let out a
pain-filled yell.

The sound immediately woke Elizabeth and she jerked up-right with her own scream.
But Saxon was already moving. The knife hadn’t taken out their unwelcome visitor, and the guy

was lifting his weapon. Saxon launched his body at Elizabeth and they rolled right off the bed even as
the blast of gunfire filled the room.

When they hit the floor, he was on top of Elizabeth, their bodies pressed intimately close. “Don’t

move,” he ordered, but he didn’t have time to make sure she obeyed.  Keeping low, he rushed back
toward the jerk who’d snuck into the room—the jerk who was way too damn trigger happy.   Saxon
moved fast and used his strong night vision to his advantage. When the guy tried to swing his weapon
toward  Saxon, it was too late.   He grabbed the guy’s wrist, twisted until he heard the snap, and the
gun fell to the floor.  Then  Saxon yanked the knife from the guy’s shoulder and put it at the fellow’s
throat.

That move stopped the idiot from fighting him.

“Who the hell are you?” Saxon demanded.
The lights flashed on around him. What the hell?
He glanced back over his shoulder. Elizabeth had moved. She was standing up, and she’d been the

one to turn on the lights.

The guy in his grasp started laughing. “Doesn’t matter who I am. You’re the dead one. Dead, dead

—”

Saxon yelled, “Get down!” to Elizabeth at the exact same moment he yanked the laughing bastard in

front of him, using the guy as a human shield. A second later, gunfire erupted, littering the motel room.
The man’s body jerked against Saxon when the bullets hit him. Bullets that had been intended to kill
Saxon…and Elizabeth.

When the gunfire stopped, he dropped the guy. The man was still alive, but Saxon wasn’t sure how

long that would be the case without medical intervention. Saxon crawled for Elizabeth as fast as he
could. Be alive. Be alive! Once the gunfire had erupted, he’d heard no sound from her.

The lights were still on. Too bright. Giving whoever was outside too much of an advantage. The

thin shade would be no help—any watchers outside would be able to see right through it with those
lights blazing.

“Elizabeth?”
She jerked at his whisper. She’d curled up into the fetal position, with her hands over her head.

Her eyes found his, and he hated to see the tears glistening in her green stare. “What’s happening?”

“Someone’s trying to kill us, sweetheart.” That one was fairly obvious, but his words weren’t

mocking.  Elizabeth  looked  as  if  she  might  be  in  shock,  and  he  needed  her  to  try  and  keep  things
together, for just a little while longer. “And we have to get the hell out of here.”  Because he didn’t
know  just  how  many someones were  waiting  outside.  He  did  know  the  man  moaning  on  the  floor.
When  the  light  had  flashed,  he’d  recognized  the  guy.    That  was  one  of  Taggert’s  goons.  Tommy
Haines. One of the guys who’d been at The Blade when Saxon had taken Elizabeth away. Taggert had
sent out his attack dogs, and their mission must be to bring down Saxon and Elizabeth.  By any means
necessary.

He took her hand in his. “We’re going out the back. Stay with me, got it?”
She nodded.
Then she crawled after him as Saxon made his way to the bathroom. The “back” exit was actually

the window in the bathroom. One that was a bit too narrow, but it would have to work.  He’d put his
knife back in its sheath, and he’d taken Tommy’s gun.  They weren’t going out there unarmed, and he
sure as hell wouldn’t hesitate to fire if they came under attack.

“I’ll go through first,” he told her, the words barely a breath of sound. “Then you come out when I

tell you, got it?”

The bathroom was dark, so he couldn’t see if she was still crying or if she’d turned ashen with

horror, but he heard her whisper, “Got it.”

That was good enough for him. He shoved open the window, punched out the screen, and climbed

out. He hit the ground with a hard roll, and he came up with his knife gripped in his fist. But no one
was there.

He heard a loud crash then, the sound of wood splintering, and Saxon knew the reason no one was

waiting out back—it was because the bastards had just broken into the motel room.

“Now!” Saxon called to Elizabeth. “Come to me, now!”
She jumped through the window and straight into his arms. Over her shoulder, he saw two men

running through the motel room. Oh, yeah, he knew those bastards, too. He’d seen them plenty at The
Blade. Flint Mayo and Romeo Gustav. Errand boys for Taggert. Or in this case, hunters for the
SOB.

Saxon caught her, holding her tight, and he didn’t even pause. He pushed her behind him, lifted his

weapon, and fired. Flint and Romeo dove for cover, and while those guys were covering their asses,
Saxon and Elizabeth started running hell fast for the line of cars that were parked nearby. They had to
get out of there.

He hit the old parking lot even as he heard shouts behind him. He put Elizabeth on her feet, and he

punched in the window of the closest vehicle. Glass rained down and he shoved the chunks out of his
way so that he could unlock the door.

“Saxon—”
He pushed Elizabeth into the truck.
Getting inside the vehicle had been the easy part.
Getting the old truck to move…before they got their heads blown off…
Tricky.
His hands went to work under the dashboard.
Bam! Bam!
Two bullets had just slammed into the side of the truck.
But Saxon had just succeeded in hot-wiring the ride, and the truck’s engine was growling to life.

He shifted gears, reversed fast and hard, and sent their attackers scrambling for their lives. Then he
slammed that gas pedal all the way against the floorboard and got them the hell out of there.

Taggert’s men had found them, but they would be running back to their boss empty-handed.
A red light was up ahead. Saxon didn’t even slow down. He raced through it. Then he turned to the

left. A few moments later, he took a hard right. He would make sure no one followed his trail.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded. Things had moved so fast that he hadn’t been able to check and make

sure none of those flying bullets had hit her.

“No.” Hushed. Then… “How did they find us?”
“Taggert has his men looking for you.” She was obviously a prize that Taggert wasn’t going to let

go. “In this town, people will sell out their own mothers for the right amount of money. Someone saw
us, someone with the wrong connection to Taggert’s men.” One possible explanation and the only
story he’d give her right then. The second explanation? Well, that would be that someone in the FBI
had sold them out to Taggert. Victor’s team would have known about Elizabeth’s extraction from that
bar. They would have known about her temporary safe house at the motel.

Did one of those team members turn on us?
The idea that an FBI agent had turned on him sure as hell pissed Saxon off. Because if someone had

offered him up to Taggert…Maybe Jenny didn’t screw up and blow her cover after all. Maybe
someone sold her out…the same way they just tried to serve us up to Taggert on a silver platter.

“You saved my life…” There was a faint pause. “Again.”
He took the right turn up ahead. “So where’s my—”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth told him softly, “now how about you slow down so that you aren’t the one

to kill us both?”

He smiled and slowed down.
But his gaze kept sliding back to the rear-view mirror. There was no sign of pursuers behind them,

not yet.

He had to find a safe place for her, then he needed to contact the only guy he actually trusted with

his life—Victor had better have a way out of this nightmare.

Because Saxon wasn’t just going to sit idly by while some jackass tried to kill him.
I’ll fight back, and any fools who come after me—they’ll die.
Freedom was too close. No one would take this chance at a new life away from him. No one.

Chapter Four

“Here.”
Elizabeth turned at Saxon’s gruff voice and she saw him sliding back into the truck with a bag in

his hands. He offered the bag to her, and, a bit nervously, she peered inside.

Shoes. Tennis shoes. For her.
“I know, they clash like hell with your skirt, but you can’t keep running around barefoot.”
They’d stopped long enough to fill up at that station/shop, and she sure hadn’t expected him to bring

her back a gift. She put the shoes on quickly, and so what if they were a little big? They were heaven
to her feet.

He cranked the truck and got them out of there, not going too fast this time, and she was sure glad

he’d ditched his devil-may-care speed. “I also picked up a burner phone while I was inside,” he told
her. “At our next stop, I’ll check in with Victor.”

Their next stop. Right. They were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. She looked to the left and

only saw the Everglades. To the right—same thing. “Where are we going?”

His jaw tightened as he kept his stare on the road. “There’s a little cabin up ahead. It’s real

secluded, and, in a spot like that, we’ll have plenty of warning if we get any unwanted visitors.”

Warning they hadn’t exactly gotten in the motel room.
“I keep thinking this is a bad dream.” No, she kept hoping it was. “What could I have done that

made someone want to kill me?” To know that someone out there hated her so much…goosebumps
rose on her arms.

“You threw over Wesley Locke. The guy doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”
Her hands gripped the dashboard. “He’s really a…criminal?” He’d seemed so nice, so

sophisticated and cultured. Every time they’d been together, he’d played the perfect gentleman.

“One the FBI has been trying to take down for years.”
She truly had the worst luck with men.
“But for him to come after you with guns blazing like this…you must have seen something you

shouldn’t have, sweetheart. Something that made him put out a hit on you—”

“Stop it.”
He slanted her a fast glance. “There’s no denying the hit. What I don’t get is why he wanted you to

suffer. Why not just kill you fast?”

She grabbed his arm. Felt the muscles stiffen beneath her touch. “I meant, stop calling me

sweetheart.” She didn’t like it when he used that endearment. It made her stomach clench and her
heart race and it was just…just ridiculous. “You don’t mean it, so don’t say it, okay? I kind of have
this rule—it’s a no bullshit rule. Don’t ever tell me something you don’t mean, got it?”

“I got it.”
“And Wesley...” She exhaled on a long sigh as she released his arm. “It just didn’t work between

us. There wasn’t any chemistry.”

He made an odd sound, kind of like he was choking.
She glanced out at the Everglades. “When he kissed me, I wanted fireworks. I didn’t get them.”

And she’d told herself she wouldn’t settle for anything less. Why couldn’t she have wild, hot

passion? Wesley had been a gentlemen, yes, one who’d seemed to have ice water in his veins.

“No…um, chemistry?” Saxon repeated. “So when you screwed him, it just left you—”
Her gaze shot right back to him. Narrowed. “I didn’t.”
“He didn’t get you off?” Now he sounded distinctly annoyed. “I would,” he promised. “I’d make

sure you screamed for me.”

Her heart was galloping in her chest. “What I meant was that we-we didn’t have sex. It didn’t get

that far.”

Once more, his head turned quickly and his gaze met hers. His dark stare held hers with a hard

intensity that made it a little difficult for her to draw in a breath.

“We didn’t,” she said again.
His focus shifted back to the road.
She hesitated a moment and then said, “So, you see, there’s no way Wesley could want me dead.

We just went out a few times. It’s not like he’s some big spurned lover.” She didn’t have any of those.
Sure, she’d had lovers, but none of them had been declaring love for her, and she hadn’t been falling
for them. Sometimes, Elizabeth felt as if she were always looking for the right guy, the one who
would kiss her and—bam, everything would change for her. “There are no big spurned lovers. No
guy who just couldn’t bear to give me up.”

“You’re not seeing the right men,” he muttered.
Had she just heard him right?
“A woman like you…giving up someone like you would never be easy.”
A strange warmth spread through her. Saxon had just given her a compliment. “I-I’m sure the

ladies have a hard time letting you go.”

“They don’t know who I really am. Sometimes, I’m not even sure I know.” Then he spun them

around in the middle of the road. She gave a little scream and her hands flew out to touch the
dashboard.

Then the vehicle braked to a stop. Right there. In the middle of the road. “Saxon!” Now she was

yelling at him, not screaming—a huge difference. “Are you insane?”

“I don’t trust many people.”
The seatbelt cut into her shoulder.
“The FBI is supposed to be clearing Wesley Locke.”
“Um, you’re FBI.”
“But the last time I waited for the FBI, we had guests at our room—guests who came with guns

blazing.” He started driving again. “I’m not waiting now. If Locke put this hit on you, then that shit is
getting canceled, right now.”

He was driving fast. Way too fast. “Wh-where are we going?”
“You know where Wesley Locke lives, right?”
“Yes…”
“Then it’s time to turn the tables. It’s time for him to get a little late-night visit.”
That sounded like a terrible idea to her. “Maybe you should drop me off somewhere. You know,

my apartment, a police station—”

“You stay with me, and I’ll keep you alive.”

A grim vow. One that she believed.
“But you go with someone else, then you take your chances. Because right now, I’m not sure who

you can really trust.”

Those words sent a chill racing down her spine.

***

Wesley Locke lived in a high-end condo at the edge of the city. Saxon parked in the building’s

garage, then he took Elizabeth with him in the elevator. He kept the gun tucked under the edge of his
shirt. If Locke tried to attack them, Saxon didn’t plan on being the one who went down.

As a rule, Saxon didn’t believe in hiding from his enemies. Whenever possible, he preferred to

take those bastards out in a straight confrontation.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about her.
Elizabeth stood beside him, her body swaying lightly, her nervous eyes on the glowing buttons that

flashed on the elevator panel.

“What time is it?” she whispered.
It was helluva-late-thirty.
“I mean, we can’t just bust down the guy’s door in the middle of the night. If he’s not the one behind

this—he’ll probably have us arrested!”

Right. Because Wesley Locke was chummy with the cops. Not in this universe. “He won’t call the

cops,” he said confidently. Locke lived on the top floor of that building so it was taking way too long
for the elevator to rise up. And during that long, slow ride, Saxon was far too aware of Elizabeth
standing next to him.

She still smelled far too good. After everything they’d been through, how did she smell that way?
“This is the most insane night of my life,” she whispered.
He was pretty sure it was about to get a whole lot crazier.
“Shouldn’t you have called for back-up? I mean, called Agent Monroe or someone—”
“As soon as we’re done here, don’t worry, then I’ll be making that phone call.” But he was getting

this shit settled first. Locke looked like their prime suspect in this mess, and Saxon wasn’t just going
to wait around while they got some more killers after Elizabeth.

The elevator had reached the top floor. His eyes locked on Elizabeth’s. “You stay behind me,

understand? We don’t know what that guy is capable of doing.” But I have a pretty good idea…
based on the reports I’ve seen about this guy.

Wesley Locke would turn on his own mother, if he thought that move would give him more power.

But why the guy had decided to take a hit out on his ex…that sure as shit didn’t make sense to Saxon.

They strode down the narrow hallway. Locke’s condo was the only unit on that floor. The thick

carpeting swallowed their footsteps, and soon, they were right in front of the guy’s door.

“Um, do we knock?” Elizabeth whispered. “Do we—”
The door was already ajar, open just a few inches. What the hell? So no, they didn’t need to

knock. Saxon pulled out his weapon and he stepped inside. The smell hit him first. Thick, cloying. It
was a scent he’d encountered too many times before.

Blood. Death.

“Help...”
Only…death hadn’t claimed his victim, not just yet.
Lights blazed in the place, so it was easy for him to find Wesley Locke. The man was sprawled on

the floor, just feet from the front door. It looked as if he’d been trying to crawl out for help.

Blood was heavy in the white carpeting around him. And when Saxon drew close to him, the guy’s

blood-covered fingers reached out to lock around his wrist.

“Wesley!” Elizabeth’s voice was filled with horror.
Saxon put his gun down. The guy wasn’t a threat, not right then. He helped ease Wesley Locke onto

his back so he could see the guy’s wounds.

Shit. Someone had taken a knife to the man. An up-close attack. That means it was probably

personal. Because Wesley Locke wasn’t the kind of guy who would let a stranger sneak in close to
him.

Unless that stranger was one very, very good killer.
“I have to call an ambulance!” Elizabeth said. Her footsteps rushed away.
Calling an ambulance wasn’t going to do any good. Saxon could tell that. He was amazed the guy

was still alive.

“Look at me,” Saxon barked.
But Wesley’s weak stare was on Elizabeth. She stood near a table, her hands fumbling for the

phone. “S-sorry,” he mumbled. “Guess…I…killed…us both…”

The sonofabitch. “You put the hit on her.”
Wesley was still staring at Elizabeth.
Saxon grabbed the guy’s jaw and forced his head to turn. “Look at me. Not her. Me.”
Wesley’s breath sagged out.
“Why did you put the hit on her? Because she dumped your ass?”
“No…I-I knew who she…was…”
Okay, that made no sense.
He could hear Elizabeth on the phone, asking for the ambulance to hurry. Then her footsteps rushed

back to them.

Wesley’s gaze went right back to her. “S-sorry…you have to die.”
“She doesn’t have to die! You can still call off the hit!” He didn’t know which one of the guy’s

enemies had come for him—Wesley loved to make waves in Miami, but what Saxon did know…he
knew that Elizabeth still had a chance at life.

Wesley’s breath heaved out. His eyes were shutting. “N-not…my hit…”
What?
Then Wesley’s hand twisted in Saxon’s grip and he held him—far too tightly for a man at death’s

door. “Who are…you?”

“He’s an FBI agent,” Elizabeth rushed to say. “He can help you, he can—”
“Run!” Wesley gasped out the word. “Go, Beth…g-go!” And he tried to yank Saxon down on the

floor with him. What the hell? Saxon shoved back at the guy but Wesley’s grip had already eased.

Because the man was dead.
“Wesley?” Elizabeth whispered. She inched forward. Her fingers touched the other man’s cheek.

“Wesley?”

Saxon tried to find Wesley’s pulse. Nothing. The guy wasn’t breathing. No more heaving gasps.

Only silence. Wesley wasn’t going to be telling them anything else. And right then, they had other
priorities. Saxon pulled Elizabeth to her feet and tried to push her toward the door.

But she twisted in his arms, fighting to get free. “No, stop it!” she cried. “We can’t just leave him!”
“There isn’t anything we can do!” There was nothing that could be done to help him. His arms

wrapped around her stomach, and he just picked her up and carried her out of there. “We have to
cover our own asses!”

He took her out of that room even as she still struggled against him. Elizabeth didn’t get it. The

cops would be there soon, thanks to that call she’d made. They’d bust in with a fury, and if they found
Saxon there, with a loaded gun on him…a gun that he figured Tommy Haines had used probably far
too many times in the past…they’d be hauled down to the station. And before Victor could appear to
sort out all the twisted shit—like the fact that, to the Miami PD, I’m a criminal, not an FBI agent
—Elizabeth would be taken from him.

She’d be on her own, and, right then, he couldn’t let that happen.
He’d almost reached the elevator when the doors opened. Only that elevator wasn’t empty.
He put Elizabeth on her feet even as he brought up his weapon. And he found himself staring

straight at another gun. A gun held in the grip of—

Victor?
Victor’s blue eyes widened in stunned surprise. “What the hell?”
Saxon lowered his weapon as Victor stepped out of that elevator.
“What are you doing here?” Victor demanded. “With her? You’re supposed to be at the motel,

keeping her safe.”

“Yeah, right, a little problem with that.” Saxon gave him a grim smile. “Taggert’s goons found us.

Three bozos that I knew—Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav. They burst in on us and
I…” He glanced down at the gun he still held. “Had to get us the hell away from them.”

Victor swore.
“Tell me that Taggert is off the streets now,” Saxon urged. “Come on, man, you tell me—”
“He’s dead,” Victor said, voice tight. “Looks like a hit from someone who knew exactly what the

hell they were doing.”

Wait, someone had just taken out the hitman? Saxon shook his head.
“He was carved up when I found him,” Victor continued.
Elizabeth gave a choked gasp. Saxon glanced at her and saw her shaking hands rise to cover her

mouth. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

His gaze slanted back to Victor. “Yeah, well, you’re not going to like this…but Wesley Locke is

dead, too.”

“You didn’t—” Victor began.
“No, someone beat us here. Someone who carved up the guy with a knife.” Just like Taggert. “Sure

seems to me like someone is tying up loose ends.”

A muscle flexed in Victor’s jaw.
“H-he was alive,” Elizabeth whispered.

Both Saxon and Victor looked at her then.
“When we got there…”
“So was Taggert.”  Victor’s voice was grim.
A  killer  who  liked  for  his  victims  to  suffer?  Liked  for  them  to  linger  with  no  hope  of  survival?

That’s one sick bastard.

Horror flashed on Elizabeth’s face. “Wesley said it wasn’t him! He said he didn’t put the hit on

me!”

With the bodies piling up, Saxon was thinking someone else had to be pulling the strings. But who

else would want Elizabeth dead?

“I called an ambulance,” Elizabeth whispered.
Victor immediately pressed the button on the elevator, calling up that ride once more. “Get her out

of here,” he ordered Saxon.

Damn straight.
Elizabeth tried to edge away from them. “But—”
There were no buts. He wrapped his fingers around Elizabeth’s wrist.
“I’ll take care of things here,” Victor told him. “You keep her safe.”
That was exactly what he intended to do. The elevator doors opened. He hurried inside, pulling

Elizabeth in with him. He punched the button for the garage then looked back at Victor. Right before
those elevator doors slid closed again, he heard Victor mutter…

“Just who are you, Elizabeth? Who are you really?”
And Saxon’s gut clenched.
He needed Elizabeth to be exactly what she appeared to be. A woman who was smart, kind,

tough…strong. He needed her to be that.

Because if she wasn’t, if she turned out to be something, someone else…he wasn’t sure what he’d

do.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth’s heart was about to race out of her chest, and she was about ninety percent sure that

she’d be vomiting soon.

Wesley had just died. Right in front of her. She’d never seen anyone die before. Her parents—

she’d seen them after the accident. Their bodies had been mangled, their faces barely recognizable.
She’s been shaking and crying as she identified them. But they were already gone. Their suffering
had ended.

When they’d burst into that condo and found Wesley, he’d still been struggling to live.
“What’s going on?” Saxon’s voice was flat. Dangerous. Rather scary-as-hell. Her gaze jumped

from the floor of that elevator—she’d been staring at it rather blindly—to his face. He was staring at
her with an unreadable expression.

She wet her lips and tried to swallow back her fear. “What’s going on?” Elizabeth parroted his

words. “People are dying.”

“Taggert tried to kill you, so don’t act as if you’re grieving for him.”
His words felt like a slap. “I didn’t want to kill the man! I wanted him in prison, not hurting anyone

else!”

“And Wesley?”
“I told you…he didn’t put the hit on me.” And Wesley had confirmed that, just seconds before he’d

died. “He’s not the one who did this to me.”

“Wesley said that he knew who you were.”
“You know who I am, too. Elizabeth Ward.” Nothing special about her. Nothing that should make

folks want to kill her.

The elevator doors opened. Saxon glanced around the area before they exited, and she noticed that

he kept his gun close as they hurried toward their vehicle. Their stolen vehicle. He hadn’t mentioned
that part to Victor—

Saxon pushed her back against a column in the parking garage. He caged her with his body, holding

her there securely. “I see Gary…others must be coming.”

Who the hell was Gary?
But he wasn’t looking at her. His body—heavy, muscled, but taut with tension—was pressed

intimately to hers. Every breath that he took, she felt. His rich, masculine scent wrapped around her.
The warmth of his body also slowly penetrated, pushing away some of the horrible chill she’d felt
ever since she walked into Wesley’s condo.

“Okay, we’re clear. Let’s go.” Then they were running toward the truck. Jumping inside. She

expected him to gun the engine and rush out of there as if escaping from the gates of hell. But he
didn’t. He just took them out, all nice and slow-like.

“We don’t want to draw any attention,” he said.
Right. No attention. At the scene of a murder. He’d removed all of the broken glass from the

truck’s window earlier, so if anyone looked at it now, they’d probably just think the window was
down. They were driving all Sunday-afternoon-slow, so it didn’t look as if they were terrified or—

“We’re getting away from the city.”

They were already out of the parking garage. But as soon as they exited that garage, she heard the

scream of sirens. She looked up and saw police cruisers and an ambulance heading for her. Elizabeth
forgot to breathe right then.

But Saxon just pulled the truck to the side of the road. When the line of rescue vehicles had passed,

he maneuvered the vehicle back onto the street and kept driving. All slow-like still.

She didn’t speak for a few minutes. Mostly because she was trying to get her ragged emotions

under control. Wesley is dead. Dead. He’s—

“Are you all right?” Saxon demanded. “Because you look like you might pass out any moment.”
She felt that way. Her cheeks were stinging, alternating back and forth between feeling ice-cold

and red-hot. “I’m fine.”

He grunted. “Keep holding that shit together, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”
Elizabeth thought she might be in hell. “Who—who’s Gary?” Should that name have meant

something to her?

“Gary is one of the FBI agents on Victor’s team. Only Gary usually plays back-up, staying out of

the way while he works on his computers.” Saxon sighed. “For him to get pulled into an investigation
like this, that means we’re in trouble.”

“Not you,” she said, the words too soft. “Me. Whoever is doing this…that person is coming after

me.” But because Saxon was with her, he was being put at risk too. “Stop the truck,” she ordered
him. “Just take me to the nearest police station.”

He kept driving.
“Saxon? Stop the truck!”
He stopped the truck. Luckily, no one else was on that street. “Do you want to live?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then you keep trusting me, because I’m your best bet, sweetheart.”
She tensed at the endearment, but it hadn’t sounded mocking. It had actually almost been—
“I’ve done things you can’t imagine. Things you don’t want to imagine.” His voice was a rumble in

the dark interior of that truck. “But because of who I am…I know how to fight. Damn dirty.”

She’d seen him do it.
“I’ve kept you alive this long, and I don’t intend to let anything happen to you now. Stay with me,

stay alive. It’s as simple as that.”

Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you risking so much for me?”
Silence.
She didn’t want him risking his life for her. She didn’t want anyone hurt. Because if he wound up

on the floor, like Wesley—what will I do?

Headlights flashed behind them.
“You have to make a choice, Elizabeth.”
Her breath heaved out. “Drive the car.” Because in this crazy world, he was the one person that

she trusted completely. “But you’d damn well better not do something ridiculous like die on me
later.”

He laughed, and that rough, rusty sound went straight to her heart.

***

“Another one, sir?” Gary asked as he stood just outside of Wesley Locke’s condo.
Victor gave a grim nod. He was glad his agent had arrived so soon. “And it looks like the same

MO.” He’d need a medical examiner to tell him for certain, but judging by the injuries he’d seen…I
think the same man killed both Wesley Locke and Kurt Taggert.

How long had Locke fought for survival in that condo? Had he been in there, bleeding out, when

Victor had discovered Taggert’s body? Shit, he felt as if the killer were two steps in front of him
with every move that he made.

Victor raked a hand through his hair. “We need a team to get over to the Moontree Motel. Three of

Taggert’s guys burst in that place and tried to get Elizabeth Ward.”

Gary’s eyes widened. “Is she all right?”
“She’s with Saxon.”
Gary blinked. “Is that…wise?”
Victor really didn’t like the guy’s tone. He’d revealed more info about Saxon to the guy lately—

mostly because the mission had been coming to a head. When Saxon worked undercover, Victor liked
to keep the details of his cases locked down.

But we were so close to taking out Taggert. I had to tell the rest of the team what was

happening. Because when the FBI went in with guns blazing, he hadn’t wanted Saxon getting caught
in the cross-fire.

“He seems a little…dangerous to me.” Gary was sweating. “Maybe Tracy or I should take over

her guard duty.”

Victor shook his head. “He is dangerous, and that’s why he’s the one who’ll keep guarding her. No

one is going to hurt her, not while Saxon is there.”

Gary nodded. “You…you’re so sure of him.”
One of the cops called to him and Victor turned away. “I’m more sure of him than I am of anyone.

I’d trust Saxon with my life.”

“But it’s not your life that’s on the line,” Gary mumbled. “It’s Elizabeth Ward’s…”

***

Dawn had come. The world was supposed to look bright and fresh in the morning, wasn’t it? But it

didn’t.

Fear still clung to Elizabeth. They’d stopped earlier—mostly just so they could wash Wesley’s

blood off them. Then Saxon had kept driving and driving. The street had disappeared, and now they
were heading into the Everglades. She didn’t speak much, she felt too tired. She wanted to crash hard
and escape into her dreams, for just a little while.

But Saxon kept driving.
“Don’t worry.” His low, growling voice made her jump after that long silence. “We’re almost

there. Soon, you’ll be safe. My cabin’s just a few minutes away.”

Her hands curled in her lap as he took them down what was not a road, not really, more like some

partially worn path. She glanced back and realized that the path was pretty much invisible from the

main road. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d drive right past it.

And that probably makes this place a perfect hiding spot.
A few moments later, they were in front of the promised cabin. The place was small, wooden, and

totally surrounded by the swamp.

“You know…” Her throat had gone dry. “I’ve read stories about the giant snakes that live near this

area. People have been letting their pet pythons and anacondas out here in the Everglades, just
dumping them, and the snakes are getting huge and even attacking the gators.”

He didn’t say anything. She tore her gaze away from the cabin to see that he’d turned toward her,

his brows raised in surprise.

“What?” Elizabeth demanded. “I’m serious.” Dead serious. “You should read the news stories.”

She shuddered. “I can’t handle snakes.” Especially snakes big enough to attack an alligator.

He leaned forward, and his knuckles slid under her chin. “Sweetheart, you have men trying to kill

you. Don’t you think you should be more worried about them? And not the snakes that might be out
here?”

Something…happened to her when Saxon touched her. Her heart beat too fast. Her skin seemed to

overheat, and her whole body just became far too sensitive. “I’m worried about the men…and the
snakes.” She had enough fear for both of them.

He smiled. It was a rather stunning sight because he had a truly gorgeous smile. One that

transformed his face from rough and dangerous to drop-dead gorgeous. “How about I promise to
protect you from the snakes?”

The way he was already protecting her from the men who were after her? Twice now he’d saved

her life. How was she supposed to repay him? “You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”

His gaze had fallen to her mouth. Was he thinking about kissing her? Because she was thinking

about kissing him, and that was just insane. She’d watched a man die! But…

But right then, she wanted to kiss Saxon. She wanted to grab tight to him and feel alive. Because

she was very much afraid that she might be living on borrowed time. And I don’t want my last days—
moments?—to be filled with just fear. I want more.

When they’d kissed before, escape had been her priority. Her mind had been racing the whole time

as she waited for a moment of weakness from him. What would it be like to kiss him again? To just
feel him against her? His mouth? His tongue?

“Since you’re sitting down, you can’t knee me in the groin.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t—”
“So I’m going to kiss you now, unless you tell me to back the hell off.”
She didn’t speak.
His smile was gone, and desire lit his eyes. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met before, either,” he

said, and then his mouth was on hers. Warm, sensual, lips open, tongue-teasing. She felt that kiss in
every cell of her body. Need and desire twisted within her, and she kissed him back a little harder, a
little deeper. Elizabeth found herself wanting more, wanting to feel so much more than just a kiss.

Because his lips had just touched hers and—Bam. Desire burned through her body. He did it. He

makes me feel this way. I am in so much trouble.

“You taste good.” Those words were a deep, dark growl against her lips. “I could just eat you right

up.”

Her panties got wet. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be the guy who made

her think—Bam.

He kissed her again.
Her hands came up and wrapped around his neck. She pulled him closer and because she wanted it

so much, Elizabeth opened her mouth wider for him. The man sure knew how to kiss.

How to kill and how to kiss. She’d discovered two very important skill sets that the guy possessed.
He licked her lower lip. Elizabeth couldn’t help it—she moaned, and his whole body went tense at

that sound.

Saxon pulled away from her, settling back on his side of the truck, and Elizabeth realized that the

panting sound of her breath filled the truck’s interior.

“Just so we’re clear…” Saxon told her, “I want to fuck you more than I want my next breath right

now.”

Her panties got a bit wetter. No, she’d definitely not met anyone like him before. The guys in her

circle—even Wesley—were always so controlled. Perfect gentlemen. They would never dream of
saying something like that to her.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. His door was still open, and the interior light kept

shining down on them. Her gaze trailed over his hands. Such big, strong hands. Her eyes focused on
his knuckles and on the faint, white scars there. Her fingers reached out and traced lightly over the
marks on his right hand. “What happened?”

“I busted too many faces.”
She looked up at him.
“In another life…”
Wait, those were scars from fighting?
“You need to remember,” he told her, staring straight into her eyes, “I’m not some safe guy you can

play around with while you’re biding your time until you get to return to your real life. When I said I
wanted you more than breath, I meant it.” His gaze glittered. “Next time, I’ll take you instead of that
breath.”

She was not ready for this. For him. Not in any way. Elizabeth hurriedly pushed open her door. It

wasn’t until that moment that she fully became aware of the sounds—it was like a million different
insects were out there chirping at her. Probably because they are. She high-tailed it toward the cabin
because she did not want to deal with any snakes, and when Saxon opened the front door, she rushed
inside.

“I have a generator out back,” he told her, his voice the deep rumble that made her think far too

much about what he’d sound like in bed. “I’ll get it going for you. Just stay here, okay?”

Wait, he was leaving? “Uh—”
And he was already gone.
So she stood there, keeping close to the door because it let the sunshine in, and those chirps and

cries got louder and louder. She started to inch deeper into the cabin’s interior. The lights flashed on.
She was so startled that she gave a little scream.

Saxon came running. “Elizabeth!”
She pressed her lips together. Embarrassed now, her gaze slid away from his.

Saxon laughed. It was a kind of rusty sound. “Thought you might have seen a snake. You know…the

anaconda kind.”

Elizabeth’s stare jumped right back to his face. Oh, jeez, that smile of his was back in place. The

smile that said, Hi, I’m uber sexy. Don’t you think so?

He shrugged. “I know the cabin isn’t much, but it’s a safe place. I’ll make contact with Victor

soon, and we’ll see what the next step is for you.”

She turned around and looked at the cabin. The place was small, but absolutely immaculate. There

was a big, dark rug on the floor. Gleaming, wooden chairs. A table. A bed—one obviously designed
to hold a single person, but it had nice, comfy looking pillows on top of it. And there was a bathroom.
How much more did she really need? “It’s perfect.” Snakes and all.

“Good. You rest here. Try to get some sleep.”
The floor creaked. She looked back and saw that he’d moved toward the doorway. Uh, oh.

“Saxon?”

“I’ll check in with Victor and be back before you can even miss me.”
Doubtful. “Saxon—”
“And I’m sorry about Wesley Locke. Never in a million years would I have wanted you to watch

him die.”

Her breath caught.
And he—was gone. He’d just shut the door. Locked it, and by the time she got the door unlocked

and open, he was already back in the truck. ”Saxon!” He was really just dumping her there? After that
kiss? After that whole wanting-her-more-than-breath thing?

Leaving?
Her jaw dropped.
His tail-lights vanished.
Yes, he’d dumped her.
The chirps grew even louder. Elizabeth hurriedly shut the door.
So much for needing her more than breath. That guy really needed to work on his seduction

technique. ‘Cause abandoning a girl in the middle of snake central? So not sexy. So not.

I’m sorry about Wesley Locke.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and wondered just

what the hell she was supposed to do now.

***

Since he knew this particular area so well, Saxon knew the exact spot where he’d start getting cell

service again. He’d been working the undercover assignment in Miami for the last few months, and
he’d been escaping to his cabin whenever he could.

On the days when I have to escape so I can try to remember who the hell I really am.
He yanked out his burner phone, and he called Victor. The phone rang, and he tapped his fingers

against the steering wheel. The damn truck actually smelled like Elizabeth now. She didn’t just smell
like honey, she tasted like that sweetness. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that he could just
eat her up and—

“Agent Monroe,” Victor snapped.
Victor was always snapping. The guy needed to learn how to relax the hell up. Maybe once Saxon

was out of the business, he’d help his friend. “She’s in a safe spot.”

Silence. “You’re on a burner.”
Obviously. What might not be so obvious to Vic… “I’m not liking this whole setup, Vic. I mean,

we were found at the motel. And now both Taggert and Locke are dead? By the same killer’s hand?”

“We don’t know yet if it was the same—”
“Aw, man, it’s me. Don’t feed me that line of crap. You and I both know we have to be looking at

the same killer. What I don’t understand is…why? Why is someone so determined to get Elizabeth?”

When he thought of Taggert, fury pumped through him. He’d lost months of his life so that bastard

could be brought in and turned against his clients. Taggert was supposed to be pressured into rolling
on all the people who’d hired him over the years. This case should have resulted in a massive
takedown.

And now—now he had no clue what was happening.
When Victor didn’t respond, Saxon said, “You need to get an APB out on Tommy Haines, Flint

Mayo, and Romeo Gustav. I want those bastards out of the game and locked in a cell, understand?”
Maybe those goons could tell them who’d originally hired—then killed—their boss. Victor thought
of just how close those men had come to getting Elizabeth. “I can’t promise you I’ll let those bastards
live if they come after her again.”

Silence. Victor would know that Saxon wasn’t bullshitting. His days of playing by the FBI’s rules

were over.

“I’ll find them,” Victor promised. “Hell, once they get word that their boss is dead, you know

they’ll panic, anyway. No doubt they’ll cut and try to run from the city, but my team will stop them.”

“You’d better.” Or he’d be stopping them.
“Where are you now?” Victor demanded.
Saxon hesitated. Normally, he told Victor everything. The guy was closer to him than any brother

could ever be. After the shit they’d survived together, they’d formed a bond that Saxon had never
expected. Only…

Elizabeth’s life is on the line. “I’ve got her someplace safe.” Like he’d said before.
“Saxon?” There was surprise in Victor’s voice. But Victor shouldn’t be surprised. Saxon was

using a burner phone for a reason.

I’m not sure who I can trust. Because maybe someone had tipped Taggert off about Jenny’s true

identity. And maybe that same someone had led Taggert’s men to the motel. “Did your team know that
I had Elizabeth at the motel?”

“Well, yes, but—”
That was all he needed to hear.
Victor’s long sigh carried over the phone. “I get it. You still think someone from my team could be

selling us out?”

Because, yeah, after Jenny’s death, Saxon had brought up this suspicion to Victor. By nature, he

was just a suspicious bastard.

Victor’s voice dropped to a low, lethal whisper. “I told you, I checked everyone—”

“And I told you…I don’t trust one hundred percent—not anyone but you.” Because he knew that

money could buy nearly anyone’s loyalty.

“You won’t tell me where Elizabeth is,” Victor fired back. “So how the fuck do you trust me? You

know I would never turn on you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Right. Shit. This was Vic. His family.“I’ll tell you, but you don’t tell anyone else. Not even Gary

and Tracy.”

“Not anyone else,” Victor agreed grimly.
Saxon stared out at the swamp around him. “I’ve got her in my cabin.” Vic was the only other

person who knew the location of the place. If I can’t trust him, then I truly can’t trust anyone.

“I’ll round up Taggert’s crew. We’ll put pressure on them, and they’ll roll on the person who took

out the hit on your girl.”

“Elizabeth isn’t mine.” He might want her, but she wasn’t…his.
“Keep her safe, and I’ll check in with you in six hours.”
Saxon glanced down at his phone, noting the time. He’d never missed a check-in with Victor. When

you were undercover, check-ins were necessary for survival. Before he ended the call, he had to say,
“Kurt Taggert was one cold-blooded SOB. So was Locke. Who the hell do you think got close enough
to gut them with a knife?”

“I’m going to find out,” Victor said, “but, right now, my money’s already on the perp being an

unhappy client of Taggert’s.”

And the client who would be the most pissed off right then? That would be the guy who’d paid to

have a woman killed…only that woman had rode off into the night on the back of Saxon’s motorcycle.

I-I knew who she…was…Locke’s words replayed through his head once more. Those words

didn’t make sense, but often the words of a man nearly dying were nothing more than nonsense.

“Six hours,” Saxon said. “Now I’ve got to go. The woman doesn’t like being alone with snakes.”
“What? She doesn’t like—”
He hung up on Victor and turned the truck back around. Elizabeth was waiting.

***

Victor shoved his phone into his pocket and turned to walk inside Locke’s condo once more. The

crime scene techs were running around, working their mojo, and they were already analyzing the
blood spatter. The body was still on the floor, and the place was starting to smell.

So much time and energy wasted. The whole goal had been to bring Kurt Taggert in alive. He

could’ve turned on so many powerful men and women in the area. Now he was gone. He was dead
and Wesley Locke had been sent to the morgue.

Which one died first? Had the killer attacked Locke, left him to die, then went to kill Taggert? Or

had the guy hauled ass over to the condo once he’d taken care of Taggert?

“Uh, Victor? I checked the security footage.”
He turned to face Gary.
But one look at the guy’s face, and he knew the news wasn’t good.
“Someone sabotaged the feed.”
Of course.

“But I can tell you…” Gary added quickly, “that based on when the feed stopped, I think our guy

came after Locke first. Because the feed stopped around the same time that Saxon was rescuing Ms.
Ward from The Blade.”

And Taggert had definitely been alive then.
“Put an APB out right now for Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav,” he demanded.

“Those bastards went after Ms. Ward at the Moontree Motel.”

Tracy’s eyes widened. “Is she dead?”
“No, she’s safe. Saxon still has her.” And as long as Saxon was there, Victor knew the woman

would stay alive. “Find those men,” Victor said. “While we still have the chance to salvage this
case.”

***

Saxon slowly opened the door to the cabin. His shoulders were tense because he pretty much

expected Elizabeth to try and rip him a new one since he’d dumped her there, but instead of being
greeted with an angry outburst, he heard only…

Silence.
He shut the door. His gaze swept the room, and he saw her in his bed.
She’d changed clothes. Ditched the sexy skirt and low-cut top. She’d put on one of his old t-shirts

that he kept at the cabin. She was wearing it, and her long, perfect legs were peeking out from the
bedding.

He walked toward her, moving slowly, and when the floor creaked beneath him, he tensed. But

Elizabeth didn’t wake up. He edged closer to her. She’d put her new tennis shoes by the bed. Her
hand was curled under the side of the pillow. Her breathing came, slow and easy. She looked sweet,
but tempting as all hell.

His fingers brushed over her cheek, smoothing her hair back. When he looked at Elizabeth, he

thought of all the things he’d given up while he’d worked undercover.

A family. A life. A home.
Someone who actually cared about what the hell happened to him.
Unlike Jenny, he hadn’t been willing to let someone else get close while he worked his missions.

Because, he knew that his cases crossed the line too many times. And it wasn’t as if someone would
fall for Saxon, the gang leader. Or Saxon…the damn criminal with a killing past and a record that
stretched for years.

He wasn’t exactly considered dateable by most of the world.
So he didn’t date. When he wanted to fuck, he fucked. And when he wanted more—
I never want more.
His fingers brushed over her hair once more.
I never want more.
She turned into his hand, and, still asleep, she whispered, “Saxon.”
Fuck.

***

Victor hauled ass back to the Moontree Motel. When he got there, it wasn’t a particular surprise to

find the parking lot mostly empty. The folks in that type of place tended to clear out by dawn.

He made his way back to room number thirteen. The door was shut—not fully, because the lock

had been smashed, but someone had tried to close the thing.

“Those are bullet holes,” Tracy said from behind him. Tracy had followed him to the motel while

Gary stayed back to work more on the crime scene at Wesley Locke’s place.

He nodded at her words, not even glancing over at Tracy. He’d already seen the holes that graced

the side of the building—and those bullets had pierced right through the glass on the window.

“It looks like there was one hell of a gun fight here,” Tracy continued, “and no one bothered to call

the cops?”

“You know this isn’t that kind of place.”
“But, bullets—”
He drew his own weapon and headed inside. The door squeaked as he pushed it open, and the

smell—a smell that he recognized too well—had his jaw clenching.

“Cancel the APB,” Victor ordered as he stared at the men in front of him. The bodies were on the

floor. They’d been hit multiple times, that was obvious. Taken out, eliminated with brutal efficiency.

“I thought Saxon said he left them alive.”
Victor bent next to Tommy Haines’s body. He recognized the guy who’d been one of Taggert’s

flunkies.  At least six bullet wounds covered the guy’s chest—and one had been fired right into his
head.    “Yeah,  that’s  what  he  said.”  He  paused.  “So  that  means  our  killer  attacked  after  Saxon  was
clear.”  Because  he  didn’t  believe  for  a  moment  that  Saxon  had  killed  those  three  men.    Saxon
wouldn’t lie to him about something like that.

His gaze slid over to the other two bodies. Both men had also been shot in the head, execution-

style. “We’ll need full work-ups on the bodies. Hopefully, the killer left behind a clue we can use to
track him.”

Tracy whistled.
“Who the hell are we dealing with here, boss?”
He didn’t know, but he was sure determined to find out. “Cancel that APB,” he said again. His gaze

swept the room. When folks in this motel had heard the first blast of gunfire, they would have
hunkered down. The less they saw, the better—that was always the mantra in places like this one.

Victor headed back out into the sunlight. He sucked in a deep breath, one that didn’t taste like

death, and gazed out at the empty parking lot. Sonofabitch. Everyone had definitely cleared out of
dodge. He turned toward the check-in office. Maybe the young clerk had managed to catch a glimpse
of the killer.

He headed into the check-in area. The bell over his head gave a little jingle when he opened the

door. “Hey, kid,” he called out. When he’d gotten the room the night before, the guy behind the
counter had barely looked eighteen. “Kid?” No one else appeared to be in the small office.

His gut clenching, Victor strode forward. His leaned over the counter and glanced down to the

floor behind it.

The desk clerk wasn’t going to be ID’ing anyone. He was in a pool of blood. Just like the others,

he’d been shot in the head. Another body, another damn pool of blood—when did this shit become
my life?

“Fuck,” Victor muttered. Someone hadn’t wanted to risk being spotted by the guy. You came in

here, didn’t you? Because you wanted to question the guy about Saxon and Elizabeth. Then when
he’d stopped asking his questions, the perp had eliminated the witness.

We’re dealing with a professional. One who can kill just as easily with his gun as he can with

his knife. A guy who didn’t care how many people he took out.

But something was nagging at Victor. If the guy was a professional hitter—and it sure looked that

way—then why had Taggert been the one with Elizabeth Ward at The Blade? That part just didn’t
make sense to Victor. Why hire out work that you could just do yourself?

This case was spinning out of control. The bodies were piling up, and, so far, they had nothing to

show for their months of undercover work.

Nothing but the dead.

Chapter Six

Elizabeth opened her eyes. There was a wooden ceiling over her head. She frowned up at that

wood. The ceiling in her bedroom was white. Not a cherry wood.

Her heart started to beat faster. She turned her head—and met a pair of dark, glittering eyes.
It wasn’t a nightmare. Oh, damn. Wesley is dead, and I’m being—hunted.
She swallowed. “I don’t care what you see in movies, that shit is creepy.”
Saxon frowned at her. “What?” He was sitting at the little table, his chair turned toward her.
She sat up in bed, making sure to keep all of her important parts covered. “Staring at a woman

while she sleeps. It’s not sexy. It’s straight-up stalker-like.”

He blinked. He might have even flushed a bit. With his tanned skin, it was hard to tell for sure.
“It’s creepy,” she continued, “so don’t do it again.”
“I was keeping watch on you,” he muttered.
“Uh, huh…”
“And you’re fucking cute when you sleep.”
Now it was her turn to blink.
“Besides,” Saxon continued, voice deepening a bit. “You were the one calling my name.”
She shot out of the bed. “I was not!”
He leaned back in the chair and his gaze slid over her. “Yes, you were. So I thought I’d stay close

in case you…needed me. I’m a helper like that.”

He was lying. Had to be lying. There was no way she’d called for the guy in her sleep. She put her

hands on her hips and stalked toward him. “Did you talk to Agent Monroe?”

“Um.”
U m was not an answer. “Did they catch the guys at the motel? Have they found out who killed

Wesley?” Do I get to return home now?

“Not yet, but Victor’s working on things.”
Right. Good old Victor.
She raked a hand through her hair. When she glanced over at him, his gaze was locked on her—

and the darkness seemed to shine with intensity.

“Damn, but you are pretty,” he told her. “Shouldn’t your hair be all messed up when you wake? It

just looks tousled and…sexy.”

“Wh-what?” She had to look like a wreck. No make-up. Crazy hair. So far from the land of sex

appeal.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” His right hand lifted, and the back of his fingers —those scarred

knuckles that shouldn’t be oddly attractive to her—lightly caressed her arm, right beneath the edge of
the t-shirt. “Not that I’m complaining. You look far better in it than I ever do.”

Talk. Elizabeth pushed the words out as she said, “I…just wanted to be in something that wasn’t

stained by blood.” She’d used the little shower, too, was that wrong? After he’d left her, she’d been
tired of being covered in blood and the sweat that came from fear. So she’d showered and crashed.
It hadn’t been as if she were actually going to run out in the swamp after him. With the snakes? No,
thank you.

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of that sooner…I could have picked you up more

clothes.” His hand fell away from her. “I’m just not used to dealing with someone like you.”

Someone like her? He better not be insulting her. “What do you mean?”
His lips hitched into a half-smile. “Folks in my world are more likely to kill you than to help you.”
But he had helped her. Again and again. “It sounds like the wrong kind of world to me.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m getting out.”  He pointed at her. “You’re the last job.”
Ah, so she was just a job now.  Wonderful.
“After  you,  I’m  home-free.  No  more  staring  into  mirrors  and  wondering  who  the  hell  is  looking

back at me.”

There was a pain in his voice that pulled at her, and Elizabeth found herself edging toward him. A

dangerous move, especially when his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened even more.

“Why did you start working undercover?”
“Because I can pass for a killer far too easily.”
She just stared at him. Shame burned through her. When she’d first seen him, she hadn’t doubted

for a minute that he was a killer. He’d looked so deadly and dangerous when he burst in that back
room at The Blade.

He shrugged, seeming a bit uncomfortable. “My skill set is limited, all right? Some men were born

to be criminals.”

“But you aren’t a criminal. You’re the good guy.” The guy who’d saved her life.
He paced away from her, heading toward the lone window in that cabin. “Are you really so sure

about that?”

She was. “You saved me.” Twice. Not that she was counting.
“And there have been others that I didn’t save. Too many of them.” His shoulders were stiff as he

stared  out  the  window.  Sunlight  poured  in  on  them,  spilling  through  the  window.    “A  few  months
back,  I  ordered  the  complete  destruction  of  a  cabin  just  like  this  one.    One  of  my  best  friends  was
inside—she  was  there  with  her  lover.  The  cabin  was  his.    By  the  time  I  was  done,  the  place  was
burned to the ground.”

A chill skated down her spine. “You had a reason.” The words were pulled from her.
Startled, he glanced over his shoulder at her.
“You’re not some cold-hearted bastard,” Elizabeth said. Sure, there was a lot going on that she

didn’t understand, but this part? She got it. “If you had been, you wouldn’t have saved me. You would
have turned around and walked out of The Blade.”

I want an hour with her.
“Instead,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, “you spouted that bull about wanting an hour with me so

that you could catch Taggert off-guard and get me out of there.”

Slowly, he turned to fully face her.
“So why don’t we play a game?” Elizabeth whispered. “You try telling me the truth…and I’ll try

believing you.” What else did they have to do until Agent Monroe gave them the all-clear?

His head cocked. “The truth?”
“Why did you burn down that other cabin?”
His lips thinned. “Because I was working an undercover mission, and I had to find a way to get

Jasmine the hell away from that scene so she could disappear.”

Her breath expelled in a relieved rush. “So you were being the good guy again.”
“A good guy wouldn’t have torched the cabin.”
“If you hadn’t…what would have happened to your friend…Jasmine?” And had that just been a hot

lick of jealousy that stung her? It sure felt like it.

“My boss…” He shook his head. “The prick I was working undercover to bust wanted her dead. I

wasn’t going to let that happen. She and Vic are the only family I’ve got. No one hurts my family.”

She was certainly getting the vibe that he was an any-means-necessary kind of guy. Strong.

Dangerous.

So beyond my normal life.
But then, this whole experience had been surreal to her.
Elizabeth forced a smile to her lips. “See?” Her voice sounded a little too high even to her own

ears. “I was right about you. You’re the good guy. The hero.”

His gaze swept over her. That dark stare heated. Oh, crap. She was still just wearing his shirt.

She’d actually stripped off everything beneath the shirt, too. And as he stared at her, as that dark
gaze of his seemed to devour her, Elizabeth was suddenly far too aware of the fact that her breasts
had tightened into taut peaks. Her nipples pushed against the fabric.

He walked toward her. Moving with the same slow grace that a lion probably used right before he

attacked his prey.

Elizabeth wanted to retreat from him, but she didn’t. She didn’t move at all.
“You want to hear another truth?”
Probably not but… “Yes.”
“I wanted that hour with you. I still want it.”
It seemed as if every bit of moisture dried up in her mouth right then. His voice had done that thing

where it deepened even more, turning into a hard growl of sound, and her knees wanted to do a little
jiggle because that growl—yes, it was hot.

“One hour…” Saxon murmured. “How many times do you think I could make you come in one

hour?”

Let’s please find out. No, that thought had not just run through her head. But…when he kissed her

—Bam.

Her cheeks didn’t just flush—they seemed to be scorching hot. “You shouldn’t say things like—like

that to me.”

“Why not?”
She didn’t know. Her thighs squeezed together. “I want to go home.”
“What’s waiting at home that’s so great?”
Her gaze fell from his. Nothing. Both of her parents were dead now. So there was no mother

who’d fret if she didn’t get a phone call from Elizabeth. No father who’d come by to check and make
sure she had everything she needed at her condo.

Actually, she had no other family at all. There was no one waiting with baited breath for her to

return. Just an empty apartment. She didn’t even have pets—they weren’t allowed in her building.

“Sweetheart?’ he pressed. “What’s so great at home? What are you missing?”

She didn’t want to talk to him about her life. Because talking about her life made it seem even

emptier.

Elizabeth started to turn away from Saxon, but he caught her wrist, stopping her. “Truth,” he

pointed out. “It’s what you wanted.”

She’d wanted to hear this truths, not share the jagged shards of her past with him. So Elizabeth

lifted up her chin. “I don’t have anyone waiting for me.”

A faint furrow appeared between his brows.
“My parents passed away two years ago. They were killed in a car accident.” Because, once, she

had gotten frequent calls from her mother. Calls that had made her smile. Calls that had made her
frown. Calls that had made her know that her mother was always thinking about her. Always there.
And her father had popped by her place—to make sure her locks were working. To check the faulty
wiring. To eat lasagna with her late at night.

“I’m sorry.”
So was she. “My mother was a lawyer and my dad owned an accounting business. They were

having dinner, going home one night and—well, they never made it.” She had originally planned to be
at that dinner with them, but a last minute stomach bug had kept her home. “They were on a secluded
road when their car crashed. Their…their bodies weren’t found until the next morning.” She’d had to
go in and identify them. No, that can’t be my parents. They…they shouldn’t look like that.

“It’s harder when they love you.”
Now it was her turn to frown.
“Because then when you lose them, it’s like someone cut into your chest. At least, that’s what I’ve

been told.” His hand lifted, and those scarred knuckles of his brushed over her cheek. “My dad cut out
on me when I was five, and my mom couldn’t wait to kick me out. I lived on the streets for too long
after that, and by the time I finally heard that my mom had overdosed, I don’t think I felt anything but
numbness.”

He was alone, too.
“But you knew that your parents loved you,” Saxon said. “That matters. You have to always hold

on to that.”

A tear leaked from her eye. He caught it—on those scarred knuckles.
“Knowing that should make the memories easier.” Now his hand slid down and pressed right over

her heart. “And I think in time, it should make you feel, I don’t know…stronger. Better.”

Her own hand rose and curled around his. “Thank you.”
“Getting easier to say that to me, huh?”
She shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t quite understand you.” There were so many layers to Saxon.

Elizabeth had the feeling that she might never fully understand him. Talk about a man of mystery.

“That’s fair. I don’t understand you, either.”
And she realized she was holding his hand to her chest. She was still just wearing his shirt, and the

bed was a few feet away.

Elizabeth hurriedly stepped back from him. “I, um…” Think. “Should you go check in with Victor?

I mean, with Agent Monroe?”

“Not for at least another hour.”

An hour…he’d wanted an hour with her.
In an hour, he’d call Victor. Get an update. And then, she could be walking away from Saxon. She

might never see him again. The thought left her feeling oddly…bereft. That didn’t make sense, of
course. There was no point in missing someone that she’d just met.

But Elizabeth knew she’d never forget Saxon.
“What was it like the last time you had sex?” Saxon asked her.
She frowned.
He laughed. “Sweetheart, if you frown, then that means it wasn’t good.”
No, it just meant…she couldn’t remember. Had it been a year? Longer?
“Pity,” he said as his hand pulled slowly from hers. “I could have given you an hour that you’d

never forget.”

She believed him.
He turned his back on her.
“Saxon.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“I’m not going to have sex with you because you saved my life.”
“Twice.”
“Twice,” she muttered. “I don’t trade sex for favors. I don’t trade sex for anything.”
He walked toward the window. “Message received.”
Her heart was pounding too fast and her palms had started to sweat. Saxon wasn’t like anyone

she’d ever met and…no one else is here. No one to judge. No one to know. It’s just our time. “And
the truth is…” Because she’d agreed to play this game. “The truth is that I’d give you an hour that
you’d never forget, too.”

His hands flew up and grabbed the wooden frame around the window. “Don’t.” That one word was

close to a snarl. “Don’t play games with me. I’m not the kind of guy who—”

“I won’t have sex with you because I’m grateful to be alive. I won’t have sex with you because I’m

trying to trick you into getting my freedom.” She’d used that technique when she’d kissed him in the
alley. “I’ll have sex with you…because I want you.” Because she kissed him and—Bam.

He whirled toward her.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. Her hands went to the hem of the t-shirt she wore and she slowly

lifted the shirt up…and then she tossed it to the floor.

***

The FBI agents and the local cops were swarming the little motel on the edge of Miami. He

watched from a distance, making sure not to get too close. Elizabeth had vanished, and he couldn’t
have that. The woman was too much of a loose cannon out there.

He believed in tying up loose ends.
I should never have involved Taggert. But he’d been trying to keep his hands clean. He’d

forgotten, though, that blood could wash off so easily. Getting back into the business of killing—it
had been like riding a bike. I’ve still got the skills.

Elizabeth Ward was a piece of unfinished business that he would be eliminating. And when she

was dead, he’d be able to go back to the life that waited for him. A life he’d been living for two
wonderful years. Ever since he’d put Elizabeth’s parents into the ground.

But Elizabeth might have remembered me…I couldn’t risk her putting the pieces together.
His gaze fell on the swarm of cops around the motel. Really, why the hell were folks making such a

big deal out of these kills? Those three men—Haines, Mayo, and Gustav—hadn’t exactly been
innocent victims. They’d been at that motel with a mission to kill, too. Only they’d become his prey.
He’d gotten there just minutes after Saxon and Elizabeth cleared out. Minutes. Taggert’s three bozos
had still been in the room. He’d demanded information. They hadn’t given it to him, so they’d died.

Simple.
The young desk clerk at the motel…his death had been unavoidable. The fool had seen him when

he went to leave. He’d chased the kid back inside the little office. Before he’d killed him, he’d tried
to learn where Elizabeth and Saxon had gone.

The boy had remembered seeing them leave in an old, gray pick-up truck.
He’d shot the helpful fellow after learning that tidbit.
After all, he’d learned never to leave witnesses alive. If you did, well, those people would just

come back to haunt you in the end.

The way Elizabeth Ward is haunting me now.
When Wesley Locke had called to tell him about the woman, when the guy had finally put two and

two together and realized just who his new love interest was, the shit had really hit the fan.

Elizabeth Ward was infamous in certain circles. Circles that she probably didn’t even know about.

And if he didn’t kill her, soon…then someone else would just do the job.

I won’t lose out on this payday. I can’t.
Because if he failed on this hit, there would truly be hell to pay.

***

Saxon fought the urge to pounce on her. Elizabeth stood before him, her body totally revealed to

him, her breasts full and tempting, her sex—bare—and just begging for his touch.

Her nipples were pink and pebbled and he’d be kissing them first. He’d lave them with his tongue

and make her moan and twist against him. Then he’d work his way down her stomach. Licking and
kissing, maybe giving her a few bites, and when he reached her sex, he’d lay her out. He’d spread her
legs wide and devour her until Elizabeth’s moans turned into screams.

“Uh, Saxon? You’re kind of just standing there.”
“Working out my plan of attack.” No, he was trying to keep his control. Because his dick was

shoving against the front of his jeans and he wanted to pump full and hard into her—so deep that he
owned her, but he had to hold back. Because…

This is Elizabeth.
And this hour, it might be their only time together. So he hadn’t been bullshitting when he said he’d

give her an hour to remember. He’d give her an hour to make her forget every other man who’d come
before—and any dumb assholes who were lucky enough to know her after he was gone.

Her hands twisted a bit nervously in front of her, moving down to shield her sex.

Saxon shook his head. “I like seeing every bit of you.” He forced his eyes to rise once more and

meet her stare. “That hour is starting now.”

“It is? It—”
He was on her. He lifted her into his arms, holding her easily, and he put his mouth on her breast.

Sweet fuck, but she was perfect. His tongue slid over her nipple, and her breath caught on a hard
inhale.

“Saxon?”
He pulled her nipple deeper into his mouth. More honey. Everything about her was sweet honey.

He lifted her higher and his mouth made its way to her other breast. He licked her. He sucked her
sweet flesh, and her moans had him nearly coming in his jeans.

Saxon took a few fast steps, still carrying her, and then he put her down on the bed. He eased back

a moment to just look at her. Her nipples were wet from his mouth—so pretty.

She pushed onto her elbows. “I—”
He spread her legs apart. Sensual pink flesh stared back at him. Saxon leaned forward and kissed

his way down her stomach. His fingers found her sex first, sliding over those slick folds—and she
was wonderfully slick. Creamy and hot, driving him in-freaking-sane. He pushed two fingers inside
of her. Tight. She was going to feel incredible around his dick. But first…

Her moans needed to turn into screams.
He withdrew his fingers, pushed them in again, and, this time, his thumb slid right over her clit.
Elizabeth nearly shot off the bed.
A nice start…let’s do more.
His knees hit the floor, and he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. Saxon turned his head, and he

kissed her thigh. Her skin was silky soft. So soft everywhere. And when he touched her, he forgot all
about the hell he’d lived through as an undercover agent. He only thought about her.

He put his mouth on her clit.
“Saxon!” Her fingers sank into his hair and her hips surged up against him.
He held tight to his control, and he explored every inch of her sex. Licking. Kissing. Caressing with

his tongue and his fingers. She was going wild against him, shuddering and gasping, but still not
screaming.

He pushed his tongue into her sex.
Her whole body tensed.
He blew lightly over her clit. Stroked her again. Again.
“Saxon!” She screamed and she came, and he didn’t stop. He kept licking her and caressing her

because he loved the way she trembled against him. Loved the way her sex quivered and she grew
even more slick for him.

Her thighs trembled around him, and, with one more lick right over her clit, Saxon rose from the

floor. Her legs were still spread, her nipples still tight, but now her cheeks were flushed and her
green eyes glittered up at him.

He yanked up his shirt. Tossed it aside. His hands went to the snap of his jeans.
Elizabeth started to close her legs. She reached for the bed covers.
“Don’t.” A guttural demand. “I like you that way.” With her taste on his tongue and the marks from

his mouth on her skin. He kicked his shoes away and then finished stripping. He yanked a condom
out of the small chest near his bed. Fuck, yes, he believed in being prepared. He’d never brought
another woman out to this cabin before, but he knew better than to take chances.

His cock was fully extended. The head already glistened when he shoved the condom on. “I’m

going to be rough,” Saxon warned her. Because he’d used the last of his control.

Her eyes were on him. Wide. She licked her lips. “I can be rough, too.”
His control shattered. In the next instant, he was on her. One more second, and he was in her. He

drove as deep as he could go, shoving his dick into her tight sex and it was—

Too good.
Saxon stilled. She was a hot heaven around him, and when he stared into her eyes, the most

beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, he saw her desire for him burning bright.

“Saxon, move.” Her nails raked down on his back. “Keep going—give me everything you have.”
He withdrew. Thrust. Slammed into her again and again, but he wanted more, too. He caught her

legs and lifted them over his shoulders so that he could go into her even deeper. Each thrust of his
body sent his shaft sliding right over her sensitive core, and he felt her jerk beneath him.

For an instant, Saxon stilled, afraid that he’d hurt her. Afraid that he’d been too—
Her nails bit into his shoulders. “Stop now, and I will hurt you so much,” she promised, her voice a

dream of sex and temptation.

So he kept thrusting. Kept driving into her tight sex, and when she came, he felt her inner muscles

contract around him even as she screamed for him once more.

It was a real good thing his cabin was isolated…
He surged into her. Again. Again—
Then he was the one to bellow because the release was that fucking good. Good enough to gut him.

Good enough to make every muscle in his body shake.

Good enough to tell him…
I must have more.
Her lashes slowly lifted and her bright stare met his once more. Her breath was coming fast, so

was his, and he waited for her to speak.

“That was…” She smiled. “Can we go again?”
Fuck, yes.

***

In the last twenty-four hours, five men had died…men all connected to Elizabeth Ward.
Victor paced in front of the Moontree motel. None of those five men had exactly been amateurs

when it came to the criminal underworld. Yet they’d been taken out with brutal efficiency.

Why?
He ran a hand over his face. “I think we’re looking at this all wrong,” he told Tracy.
“Then how do we need to look at it?”
“We need to look at her. Elizabeth Ward.” She was the one in the middle of this clusterfuck. A

woman that he’d thought was just an innocent who’d been targeted for death…

But that had been before her would-be executioner wound up with a knife in his throat and before

the three flunkies sent after her were found with bullet holes in their vital parts. “We can look
at it two ways,” Victor said. “Either someone is hunting Elizabeth Ward and killing anyone who gets
in his way…”

Tracy waited.
“Or else,” he said, and this suspicion was making his gut clench. “Maybe someone is out there,

eliminating any threats to her.” Making absolutely sure that she didn’t have to fear from Taggert or
Locke again. Or fear an attack from the guy’s goons.

“You’re thinking she’s not so innocent?”
“I’m thinking I want to know every single detail about her life. I want to know the name of the

doctor who helped bring her into this world and the first boy who kissed her. Everything.” Because
by looking at Elizabeth’s present, they were limiting themselves far too much. A bigger game was at
play there, a game centered completely around Elizabeth.

“Get Gary to start digging into her life. Tell him I want those answers yesterday.” He headed for

his car. It was getting close to his check-in time with Saxon, and he needed to warn the guy to be on
guard with Elizabeth. The woman might not be the victim he’d assumed.

She might be something entirely different.
Someone that Saxon would need to take down.

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth fought to slow her racing heartbeat. Saxon was above her, still in her, and from the way

he felt—long, thick, and hard—the guy was more than ready for another round. So was she. Once she
managed to uncurl her toes and draw in a normal breath, anyway.

He slowly eased her legs back down to the mattress. Then he withdrew, and she couldn’t help the

sound of protest that sprang to her lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just getting a fresh condom.”
He headed into the bathroom, and reality started to come back. Her gaze slid to the box of

condoms near the bed. A whole freaking box.

And some of that happy, sensual glow began to fade.
“Now…where were we?” He leaned over the bed.
Her hand pushed against his chest. “How many women have you brought here?”
His dark eyes narrowed.
“Saxon?” Elizabeth pushed. She recognized the emotion eating at her, twisting her guts all up—it

was jealousy, and she sure didn’t like that feeling. Not one bit.

“You’re the first.”
Her left eyebrow rose as she stared at the box of condoms. Did he seriously expect her to buy that

line? He had a whole box of condoms. A box!

“What? You’re gonna get pissed because I believe in being prepared?” He caught her hand.

Brought it to his mouth. He licked the center of her palm and her body seemed to quake.

“I…I…” Oh, hell, she didn’t even know what she’d been going to say. Elizabeth just knew that she

didn’t like the idea of Saxon with other women. Not even a bit.

He smiled at her. That sexy grin that made her stomach knot. “I believe in taking care of what’s

mine.”

He bit her palm, the little mound of skin there, and her breath hissed out.
“I like the way you look after I’ve had you,” Saxon said. “Didn’t think it was possible for you to

become more gorgeous to me, but you are…”

He lowered her hand back to the bed. He reached over for a condom.
“Wait.”
Saxon stilled.
“Not yet.” He’d been the one in charge before. Shouldn’t she get to have some fun, too? “I want you

to lay back.”

His gaze seemed to harden. “You don’t want to push me too far.”
“I’m not pushing you anywhere.” Her heart still raced far too fast. “I’m just going to give you

pleasure.” The same as he’d done for her.

Because Elizabeth had realized something important. When she left him, she wasn’t going to forget

him easily. He’d been right on that note. So now she wanted to make absolutely certain he didn’t
forget her, either. The other women that might come into his life—they’d have to compete with her
ghost.

Saxon slowly spread out on the bed. He was so big that he filled the space. And his cock—it shot

straight up into the air. Heavy and thicker than her wrist. Her gaze was on that cock, and she bent
toward him. Her mouth was poised to—

“You think I’m going to hold on to my control once I feel your tongue against me?”
She slanted her gaze up to meet his stare. “Let’s just see how long you can last.”
And she put her mouth on him. Her lips slid over his cock and she put her tongue right against the

head of his arousal.

“Fuck!” His hands clamped around her shoulders, but he didn’t force her away from him. His

fingers were so tight on her, but he was…

Holding onto his control. Good.
She licked him again. Feathered her lips over him. Took a bit more of his length in her mouth. Then

she started moving her head. Taking even more. Sucking him. Enjoying the taste and the texture of his
cock in her mouth. He was salty and rich, and he was getting even bigger as she tasted him. A moan
worked in her throat and vibrated along his length. She felt wild then, sexy, all alone in this little
cabin with Saxon and far away from prying eyes and—

He pushed her back. Lifted her so easily and when she blinked, Elizabeth found herself on her

hands and knees in the bedding. Saxon was behind her. His hands were on her hips and he drove into
her.

Her head tipped back as she gasped. Her sex felt hyper-sensitive from her last climax, and he

pushed in hard. So deep.

“Get wet around me again,” Saxon whispered, his words rough and hot in her ear. His hand curled

around her body, moving to press to her clit. “Squeeze even harder…”

She did.
He withdrew, plunged deep, and kept stroking her with his hand. He’d wanted her wet—she was.

And with every thrust of his hips, she was surging back wildly against him. Over and over. Again and
again. Her knees were shaking, her heart racing, and when he pounded into her once more, the world
shattered.

As the climax tore through her, his grip was the only thing that kept her upright. Elizabeth wanted to

collapse onto the bedding and let the pleasure consume her, but he wasn’t done. Not close. He was
still driving into her, and every thrust made the pleasure burst again, coming in waves that wouldn’t
end. Her hands fisted around the covers and her head dropped onto the pillow before her. “Saxon…”
His name was a lost whisper.

His mouth was on her throat. Kissing. Licking. Stinging lightly with his teeth. He kept thrusting,

kept stroking her clit until she thought that she couldn’t handle any of the pleasure any more. It was too
much, too—

He came. Her name tore from him as he surged into her once more. She screamed too, because the

pleasure had lashed into her—a release so strong it was almost pain.

And the climax held her in a grip that wouldn’t end, rolling through her even as Saxon filled her

sex. He filled her…so completely.

Dominated. Consumed.
When the pleasure finally ebbed, Elizabeth collapsed. She didn’t have the energy left to do

anything…but smile.

***

Saxon hadn’t checked in.
Victor glared down at his phone. What the hell? Saxon always checked in. The guy knew better

than to leave him hanging.

So something happened. Something that prevented him from calling me.
He’d tried to reach Saxon. Victor had dialed his number a dozen times, but he hadn’t been able to

connect with the guy.

Not like Saxon at all. In all of their years, Saxon had never missed a check-in.
He dialed Gary’s number. The line rang once, twice—
“Boss, you must be psychic, because I was just about to call you.”
Victor had gone back to The Blade to scan the bar one more time. He was the only person left at the

place then so he had plenty of privacy to talk with Gary. “You been digging into Ms. Ward’s life?”
Victor didn’t normally like to bring up a person’s past. Hell, his own past was shady and dark in too
many places, but sometimes, the job didn’t give him any choice. He had to discover every secret that
he could.

“I didn’t have to dig far.” Gary gave a dramatic pause. The guy did that a lot. Went for the drama.

“It seems,” Gary revealed, excitement entering his voice, “that it’s not the first time a hit has been
taken out on the Ward family.”

“You’ve got my attention.” Every bit of it.
“Her mother was a criminal defense attorney. She made some enemies in her time, and one of those

enemies took out a hit on the woman and her husband. They went out in a fiery car crash that wasn’t
an accident, at least not according to the police report I just accessed.”

“Who ordered that hit?”
“The police thought it was Luther Bates. Seemed Elizabeth’s mother refused to defend the guy…

and he didn’t exactly like her rejection or the fact that she apparently got a little too chummy with a
DA friend and spilled some of Luther’s secrets, legal code be damned.”

Luther Bates. The name instantly rang a bell for Victor—mostly because Bates was big damn

trouble. The guy was rotting in a New Jersey prison right then. He’d been tied to the deaths of four of
his…associates. And the fact that the guy had been running a drug trade from New Jersey all the way
to Florida? Yeah, the authorities had managed to catch him red-handed with that shit, thanks to an
anonymous tip.

A tip that came from Elizabeth’s mother?
“I can’t figure why anyone would be protecting Elizabeth,” Gary continued, his voice growing

thoughtful, “but the fact that both she and her parents had hits taken out on them? No way is that a
coincidence.”

No, it wasn’t. “Never believe in them,” Victor muttered. There were no coincidences in this

world.

“Elizabeth Ward cut out from New England after her parents died and moved abroad. She’s been

working in Europe, and she just came back to the states and settled here in Miami a few months ago.”
Gary was talking faster now. “You think maybe someone from her past found her?”

“I think if you’re Luther Bates…you have a habit of not just taking out your enemies, but their

whole damn families.” The FBI had suspected—but not been able to tie—Luther to a few killings just
like that. Bates believed in destroying his enemies completely, and that seemed to mean taking out
their families. As he mulled over Gary’s revelations, Victor said, “Maybe the original hit wasn’t just
on Elizabeth’s mother and father. Maybe she was supposed to be taken out back then, too.”

“Then why is she still living?”
She might not be…not for much longer. Saxon hadn’t answered his phone.
Worry gnawed at Victor. “I’m going to check in with Saxon,” Victor said flatly. “The guy didn’t

answer my call, so I have to find out what the hell is going on.”

“You don’t think…he’s all right, isn’t he?” Alarm sharpened Gary’s voice. “I mean, we already

lost one FBI agent in the last month—”

And Jenny’s funeral had been brutal. “We won’t lose another,” Victor swore. “I’m going in after

him. I’ll call you once the situation is contained.” And contained meant that Saxon wasn’t off playing
some lone gunman routine. They’d bring Elizabeth in, put her in a safe house, and go forward from
there.

Provided, of course, that he didn’t get out to that cabin and find Saxon’s dead body waiting for him.
He didn’t just walk back to his car. He fucking ran.

***

Gary Warren stepped back into the shadows of the alley and watched Victor rush away. A faint

smile curved his lips. The guy was so clueless. He thought he was a big fucking deal at the Bureau.
But the guy was all flash. He didn’t look beneath the surface enough, never saw anything without
Gary’s help.

And now, you don’t see me.
Gary hadn’t needed to look up Elizabeth’s past. He was already real familiar with it. Intimately

so.

But he had needed Victor’s help for one thing…finding her. And Saxon.
Gary waited until Victor had left the lot, then he pulled out his phone again. He’d put a transmitter

on Victor’s car, an easy enough placement while the guy had been in The Blade. Now all he had to
do was stay within range and follow that guy all the way to Saxon’s hiding spot.

Then, Elizabeth…you die.
Over the years, he’d always prided himself on being a professional. If he took a job, then he got

that job done. Period. He’d been hired to kill the Wards—all three of them. But Elizabeth had
escaped…vanished for two years.

Until she’d shown up—quite literally—in Wesley Locke’s lap. Wesley had once been part of

Luther’s payroll, and when the guy made the connection, he had run straight to the big boss, squealing
about how he should get credit for her hit.

No one gets credit for my kills.
But then Wesley had changed his mind. Gone soft. Said that Elizabeth wasn’t hurting anyone, that

she should go free.

By then, it had been too late for such foolish talk. And with Wesley waffling, well, he’d had to die,

too.

You kill once, and then the dominoes start falling. It was a good thing he’d always been so good

at dominoes.

When he’d taken out Elizabeth’s parents two years ago, she’d been at the house when he did his

reconnaissance work. He’d gone there, spilled his usual BS about installing a security system, even
as he really cased the house and got a good look at the cars while planning his hit.

Since Elizabeth hadn’t died—like she should have—he’d worried for years that she would

remember him. That she’d put the puzzle pieces together, and then his secret double life would be
exposed. That hell would be brought out into the open.

The hit on the Ward family had been a big one—worth one million dollars. That hit should have set

him up for life, but Luther hadn’t paid him. Because I didn’t take out the daughter.

But when Elizabeth died, he’d finally get his big pay day. And he’d finally be able to sleep at night

without wondering…

Does she remember me?
Unfortunately, Victor and Saxon would also have to die in the coming battle. Two FBI agents—

gunned down while protecting an innocent woman. Ah, he was sure their funeral services would be
just lovely.

If he tried hard enough, he figured that he’d even be able to muster up a tear or two. He’d always

been such a fine actor.

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. She’d fallen asleep, just…sank into darkness after that last

orgasm. And she had no idea how long she’d been out. She pushed up—the light coming through that
window didn’t seem as strong. Was the sun getting ready to set? Frowning, she looked back down at
the bed, and she saw that Saxon was by her side.

His hand was curved around her stomach. His body pressed closely to her own.
She caught herself staring at him. Great, now I’m pulling the stalker routine. Watching the guy

while sleeps.

But he was rather cute when he slept.
Then she heard the unmistakable growl of an engine, one that was driving far too fast. Coming far

too close.

Saxon’s eyes flew open. There was no sleepiness in his stare. His gaze was completely aware—

and deadly. Before she could speak, he leapt from the bed. He yanked on his jeans and grabbed a gun
from under the table.

Wait, under the table? The guy had actually taped a gun beneath his table?
“Saxon?” She rose, her own movements slow and jerky as she searched for her clothes. She put on

her skirt, blood-stains and all, but she didn’t grab her shirt. She used his, instead. Then she hopped
and put on the tennis shoes he’d brought her. “What’s going on?” That growling engine was getting
louder and louder. Closer and closer.

He peered out the window. “I fell asleep.”
“Um, we both did.” After earth-shattering, mind-numbing sex. The first time in her life that she’d

had the mind-numbing variety of sex.

“I never fall asleep with a lover.”
His words hurt her. Why, she wasn’t sure. Maybe because it sounds like I’m just one in a line.
“Missed my damn check-in with Vic. Now either he’s hauling ass out here…” His gaze slashed

over to meet hers. “Or someone else has found us.”

Please let it just be Vic.
He whirled back toward the window. He searched the area outside. “I don’t have a visual on the

vehicle, not yet.”

She inched closer to him. The floor creaked beneath her feet, and she saw Saxon’s shoulders

stiffen. He had scars on his shoulders. On his back. She hadn’t even noticed those before. They were
slashes. From a knife? Her hand reached out to touch him.

“Go in the bathroom and shut the door. Don’t come out unless you hear me call for you.”
He was still staring out the window.
“I won’t let them get you,” he promised.
But…what about him? He’d handled himself easily back at the motel, but the guy wasn’t

immortal. The scars on his back were testimony to the pain he’d endured. “Let me help you.”

He shook his head. “Help me by getting to cover and—” His breath expelled in a rush. “Victor’s

rental car.”

Relief made her a little dizzy. “Then we’re okay.” No bad guys had found her location. They were

still safe.

“You’re okay,” he muttered. “Vic is probably about to rip me a new one.”
The engine died. She heard a car door slam.
“Yeah, it’s Vic,” Saxon said as he leaned closer to the window. “And he looks pissed.”
Wait, didn’t he always look that way? Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she’d seen other expressions cross

his face.

“And he’s coming in armed.” Saxon swore and hurried to open the cabin’s door. “Vic, it’s all

right, man! You don’t need to rush in, guns blazing!”

But Victor did rush right in. He shoved Saxon back over the threshold of that cabin, then he

slammed the door shut. “What. The. Fuck?” Fury was stamped on his face. “You had a check-in.
You never miss a check-in with me.”

Saxon slanted a look at Elizabeth. “I fell asleep.”
The fury on Victor’s face warred with shock. “You did what?”
Saxon shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. I made a mistake.”
Elizabeth inched back a bit. The floor decided to creak beneath her once more.
And that little creak had Victor’s gaze snapping toward her. “You.”
Oh, hell.
Victor took a menacing step toward her. As she stared at his face, she thought “pissed” might have

been the wrong term to describe him. Enraged worked far better.

‘”I thought my brother was dead.”
“Your brother?” Her voice came out as a rasp. She was confused and growing more nervous by

the moment. “Look, Agent Monroe, I don’t know your brother.”

He growled then. Growled. “I think you were fucking him…and that’s why my brother forgot to

check the hell in. Not because of some bull about falling asleep.”

Saxon and Victor were brothers? She’d got that the two men were friends, but—brothers?
Before she could question him further—and tell the guy that any fucking was not his business,

brothers or not—Victor whirled back toward Saxon. “You’re a federal agent. Protocol demands—”

“I’m not an agent, not anymore. I already told you that Taggert was my last job. Since he’s dead,

I’m out.”

Only…he’d been staying there with her. Protecting her.
“Sorry I didn’t check in, but mistakes happen.” Saxon shrugged, not looking the least bit

intimidated in the face of Victor’s glare. “Elizabeth and I are alive, so you need to calm the hell
down.” And some anger—hot and heavy—entered his voice as he said, “And I don’t like the way you
just talked to her, either.”

“Neither did I!” Elizabeth snapped.
Victor glared over at her. She glared right back. “Don’t yell at me, and don’t talk about my sex

life!” Her chin notched up. “You don’t know me well enough for crap like that.”

Victor shook his head. Then he shook it again, as if he just couldn’t make sense out of what was

happening around him. “People are dying,” he said, “while you two are out here playing house.”

They weren’t playing house. A faint sound reached Elizabeth’s ears. She glanced over at the

window. But…then she didn’t hear the sound again.

“We’re damn aware there is a target on her,” Saxon said as he took a step toward Victor. “And I’m

doing you a favor by keeping Elizabeth alive.”

Wait. Hold the freaking phone. “Did you just say I was a favor?” Hurt was there, splintering

across her chest. Because she’d thought…never mind.

Saxon’s head jerked toward her. “Elizabeth…” He looked lost for a moment. Confused. “No,

that’s not what I meant.” His hand raked through his hair. “Look—”

Victor holstered his gun and shoved Saxon in the chest with his hand. “No, you look. Those three

bastards who came after you at the motel? The ones you wanted me to find? I already found them. It
was real easy, considering their bodies were left in room number thirteen.”

No, that wasn’t possible. Elizabeth shivered even as she said, “You’re lying. They were alive

when we left.”

“No, Ms. Ward, I’m not lying.” He didn’t glance over at her, but kept his attention on Saxon.

“Those men are dead. They were all shot, and their bodies were dumped in your motel room.
Someone killed all three of them and took out the kid who was working at the check-in desk.”

This was horrible. “Why?” Elizabeth demanded as a fist seemed to squeeze her heart. So many

people…dead.

Victor didn’t answer her. Just kept right on glaring at Saxon. So she marched across the room,

grabbed his arm, and whirled the guy around to face her. “Why were they killed?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “At first, I thought someone might be protecting you. Eliminating

anyone who might threaten you.”

“The check-in clerk wasn’t any threat.” She’d never even seen him.
“If he could identify the killer, he was a threat.”
This was out of control. Six people were dead now—six! Taggert, Locke, the three men at the

motel and…a desk clerk—some poor soul that I never even met!

“That’s what I thought, at first,” Victor continued. “That maybe someone was out there, eliminating

any danger to you.”

“By killing?”
His head tilted as he studied her. “Then I learned about your parents.”
It was her turn to shake her head.
Saxon surged forward. “What do Elizabeth’s parents have to do with anything?”
“Luther Bates took out a hit on them.”
Those goosebumps on her arms turned into a full-on chill. “What? Luther Bates?” Yes, she knew

the name. Who didn’t? The guy had made serious national headlines when he’d been arrested. It
wasn’t every day that a drug kingpin like him went down.

“Drop the act,” Victor ordered. “You had to know he was the one who went after your mom. She

tipped off the DA about him, and he sent out the hit on your whole family.”

She thought about slugging him because there was so much fury and pain twisting inside of her.

“My parents died in a car accident!” And this guy was going to try and tell her that some drug kingpin
had killed them? No way. No. Car accidents happened. They were sad and tragic but they just
happened.

“Their brake line was cut. It was no damn accident, and you know that. The cops said—”

“They said nothing to me about a hit being placed on my parents!” Elizabeth was yelling. She had

to stop that. She had to get her control back. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. “They told me
it was an accident. That’s all. Accidents…they happen.”

“Then maybe they didn’t say anything to you because they didn’t have proof…maybe they thought

you’d be safer if you didn’t know that Luther Bates had been gunning for you. Hell, ignorance can be
bliss, right?” His face hardened. “But if it was just an accident, then why did you run out of town?
You ran fast and you ran hard and you didn’t go back.”

Saxon was watching her, his gaze carefully guarded now. He was staring at her almost as if…as if

she were a suspect or a criminal. Not the woman that he’d just made love with.

No, we didn’t make love. We had sex. We fucked. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Nothing more…
“There wasn’t anything for me there. Why would I stay? They were gone, and being there without

them hurt.” She’d felt haunted in that old house. So she’d gone away, trying to run from the pain. Too
late, she'd learned the pain followed her wherever she went.

“You had a hit on you, and you ran to stay safe,” Victor charged. “Only the bounty stayed on your

head, and when you turned up here in Miami, someone made the connection and decided to collect.
I’m betting Locke is the one who put the pieces of the puzzle together. He was a junior man in
Luther’s organization a few years ago.”

It felt as if her head were about to split open. “A-a bounty has been on my head? For two years?”

Impossible.

His lips thinned. His stare met Saxon’s in some kind of silent, suspicious communication, then

Victor glanced back at her.

“Say something!” Elizabeth yelled.
And that was when it happened. Gunfire. The sound was familiar to her now, thanks to that

horrible experience at the motel. Like fireworks exploding right outside the cabin. No, tearing into
the cabin.

The window shattered. Victor spun to pull out his weapon and Saxon—Saxon grabbed Elizabeth

and threw her to the floor. Then he covered her with his body as the bullets kept hitting into the side
of the cabin.

“You led them to her!” Saxon accused Victor. “You brought them here!”
Victor fired a shot through the window. “The hell I did! No one followed me.”
More gunfire erupted. Elizabeth stared up at Saxon, her heart racing. “Do we run?” Where were

they supposed to run? To the swamp?

And then…the gunfire stopped. There was an absolute silence that was chilling. Elizabeth caught

her breath as she waited. What would happen next?

The silence stretched. She felt like her nerves were about to shatter.
“Saxon…” His name was a whisper from her.
But his hand lifted and pressed to her mouth. He gave a slow shake of his head even as he moved a

few inches and looked over at Victor.

She craned her head, too, and saw Victor give a fast hand motion to Saxon. She had no idea what

that move meant, but Saxon leaned closer to her. His mouth brushed against the shell of her ear as he

said, “Don’t move. Stay in here and stay silent, and you’ll stay alive.”

Then he was…gone. He checked his weapon and went toward what she figured had to be the

cabin’s back door. Even as Saxon opened that door, Victor was firing his weapon through the now-
broken window. Providing cover fire for Saxon?

She stayed on the floor as the gunfire seemed to echo around her. Saxon had headed out to catch the

man—or men—shooting at them. Once more, he was risking his life, for her.

But what if I’m not worth the risk?

***

Saxon tried to move as quickly but as carefully as he could. Victor was shooting, providing him

cover while Saxon went to take out the bastard firing at them. It was a routine they’d run plenty of
times before.

His gaze scanned the area. No one was returning Victor’s fire. The guy out there was biding his

time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He wouldn’t get that moment. There was no way Saxon would give the fellow a chance to hurt

Elizabeth. She was his priority right then, and if he had to kill in order to protect her, then so be it.

He used the twisting grasses and gnarled trees as cover. If he’d been planning to shoot at the cabin,

he would have done it from the area up ahead and to the left. That spot would provide the most cover
while also making sure that—

Gunfire thundered once more.
The gunshots had come from up ahead and to the left, but the shooter hadn’t been aiming for the

cabin. Saxon edged closer just as a man burst from the tall grass.

“I got him!” Gary cried out. His breath was heaving out, his body shuddering “He’s down.

Everything is safe.” He had a gun in his shaking hand.

And Saxon had his own gun aimed at the other FBI agent.
Gary bent low, sucking in a deep breath. “I was…” Another gulping breath. “With Victor…told

me to stay out…here…while he…made sure you were safe.” Another breath. He looked up, sweat
pooling on his forehead. “When I heard the-the shooting…” He exhaled. “I went after him.”

Victor hadn’t mentioned that Gary was with him. Hell, Vic really had come in with guns blazing.

He’d exposed Saxon’s sanctuary, revealed it to the other agent. But what does it matter? I’ll be
leaving this place soon enough.

But leaving Miami meant leaving Elizabeth.
“He’s down,” Gary huffed, “but not dead. Come on, let’s get Victor and we’ll question the bastard

together.” With his gun lowered, he turned toward the cabin. His steps were fast, clumsy.

Saxon followed him, moving much slower.

***

Gunfire blasted. Elizabeth’s already tense muscles locked down even more when she heard the

sound of those shots from outside. The shots didn’t hit the cabin, so…

Had they hit Saxon? Or had he been the one firing?

She kept staring at Victor’s profile and Elizabeth didn’t say a word. But she sure wished she had a

weapon. A gun would be real handy right then. Or even a knife. Something.

Victor was staring straight outside, and his features were hard and angry. Only—shock flew

across his face. “What the hell?” he whispered, then he was running for the door. Yanking it open.

His movement sparked her own, and Elizabeth jumped to her feet. Through that open doorway, she

could see two men walking toward the cabin. One was Saxon and he’d just pulled up to the side of
the other guy, a man with slightly stooped shoulders and a balding head. Who was that man? Saxon
was so close to him and—

“Get away from him, Saxon!” Victor yelled as he aimed his gun.
His warning came too late. Gunfire thundered once more.
She was staring at Saxon when the gun fired. She saw the bullet hit Saxon in the side. He

stumbled, fell to his knees, but he still tried to bring up his weapon. And that was when the other man
—a man who seemed oddly familiar to her—put his gun to Saxon’s head.

“Drop your weapons!” The guy yelled.
Saxon still had his weapon in his hand—and he was bleeding, so much.
“Drop them!” The man screamed. Sweat had formed long, dark lines on his white shirt. “Throw

down all your weapons or I will kill him right now.”

Victor kept his gun up. “You kill him, and you’ll be dead one second later, Gary.”
Gary? Even the name was normal. Ordinary. Not the name of a-a killer. A killer that Victor

apparently knew.

“Send out the girl!” Gary ordered. “Or you can watch me put a bullet in your brother’s head.”
“He’s been fucking listening to my phone conversations,” Victor muttered. “Asshole.” He went

right on with pointing his gun at Gary.

Hadn’t Victor heard the guy? He was going to shoot Saxon! That can’t happen. Elizabeth raced

forward. “I’m coming out!” she shouted. “Please, don’t hurt him—”

She’d barely taken more than a few steps when Victor grabbed her and pushed her back into the

cabin. He slammed back against the nearest wall, taking her out of Gary’s sight.

“Are you insane?” Victor demanded. “He is here to kill you.”
She got that but… “I’m not going to let Saxon die in my place!”
“Saxon is an agent! He’s trained for shit like this—”
His words were drowned out by the thunder of gunfire.
Saxon!
Then she heard laughter. “I just put a bullet in Saxon’s shoulder,” Gary said, voice carrying easily.

“Since he wasn’t dropping his gun, I had to convince him. The next shot will be in his head.”

Victor’s forearm pressed over her chest. She saw the fury burning in his eyes.
“Send her out!” Gary’s voice was close to a shriek now.
She strained against Victor’s hold, but he wasn’t letting her go. Please, she mouthed the word to

Victor.

His eyes were slits of fury. “I guess there was a rat in the FBI all along,” he shouted to Gary.

“Fuck, you were the one with all the technical intelligence—and you were just, what? Selling it off to
the highest bidder?”

“That’s what I do…now. But two years ago, before I was transferred to your team, I worked a

slightly different beat.”

A muscle flexed along Victor’s jaw. “What beat was that?”
More laughter. “Come on out, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Victor still didn’t move.
“Victor!” Gary shouted.
“You fed me bullshit about that police report on her parents’ car crash, didn’t you?” Victor yelled

back. “They didn’t think Luther Bates had set up that hit—”

“They should have thought that,” Gary blasted back. “Who do you think hired me to kill them?”
Her heart seemed to splinter. That man out there…he’d killed her parents? An image of their

mangled bodies flashed in her mind. Nausea twisted her stomach, and, for a moment, Elizabeth
thought she’d vomit.

“Guess who else is about to die?” Gary’s voice came again. Sharp. Angry. “Give you a hint…he’s

an asshole undercover agent who is about to get a bullet in his head.”

No, that couldn’t happen. “We have to help Saxon,” Elizabeth whispered to Victor. “He needs us!”
“Saxon is a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Everyone needed help sometime. “He’s been shot! Twice!” She kicked at Victor. “Let me go to

him!” Because she was terrified that she’d hear another shot soon—a shot that had been fired into
Saxon’s head. No, no, he can’t die for me. Her parents—Saxon—no!

Saxon…with his dark eyes and his scarred knuckles. His sensual touch and the laughter that seemed

far too rusty. He couldn’t die. This couldn’t happen. She struggled against Victor with all of her
strength. She kicked, she punched, she clawed, and she got loose.

“No!” Victor yelled.
But she was frenzied. Elizabeth ran through the open door and outside. “Let him go!”
Saxon was on the ground, slumped forward with his hands in the dirt, and the man—Gary—now

stood behind him, the gun at the back of Saxon’s head.

At her cry, Gary’s head snapped up. He stared at her, then smiled. “You have been so much

trouble. You should have just been in that car two years ago—you were supposed to be in the car—
and all my loose ends would have been tied up.”

She ran toward him. “Don’t hurt, Saxon!” That man—she’d seen him before. She knew it. But she

couldn’t remember where or when. She just couldn’t place him.

Victor’s footsteps pounded behind her.
Gary smiled. “Too late for that…”
His fingers were squeezing the trigger. She could see them.
“No!” Elizabeth screamed.
Victor tackled Elizabeth. They hit the ground and she waited to hear the sound of a gunshot, a shot

that would end Saxon’s life.

His smile…I loved his smile. So beautiful. It changed him, made him look so—
She heard a strangled cry. Victor eased his hold on her and when he looked up, she rolled away

from him as tears streaked down her cheeks.

But she wasn’t staring at Saxon’s prone body. Gary was the one on the ground. The gun had fallen

from his fingers, and a knife protruded from his throat.

“Hell, yes,” Victor muttered as he leapt to his feet.
She staggered up and rushed toward Saxon. He’d just grabbed one of the discarded guns—

Elizabeth didn’t know if it was Saxon’s weapon or Gary’s—and, as she watched, Saxon put the gun
to Gary’s forehead. “My turn,” Saxon rasped.

She froze. Her knees locked, and Elizabeth couldn’t move.
“Saxon, no!” Victor roared.
Gary was still alive, still making some horrible gurgling sound.
“He planned to kill us all,” Saxon said. His shirt was soaked with blood. “You know that. He was

going to kill me, kill you, kill Elizabeth…then go right back to the FBI. Keep selling the…good agents
out.” He was on his knees over Gary. “No more…selling them out, Gary.”

Victor didn’t rush up to Saxon. He approached the other guy slowly, cautiously. “We need him

alive. If he’s alive, he can tell us who he’s been working with. He can tell us what the hell he has
been doing all of these years. The dead don’t talk, man, you know that.”

“Saxon?” Elizabeth whispered.
His head turned toward her.  He was so pale.
Too much blood.
“If he’s dead,” Saxon said, his words slurring a bit, “then I know he can’t ever hurt you again.”
“He’ll be locked up!” Victor promised frantically. “Don’t! Shit, I need him alive!”
And she needed Saxon alive.  Elizabeth crept closer to him.
“He killed your parents,” Saxon whispered. “Doesn’t he deserve to die for that?”
And the pain of their deaths was a raw wound inside of her again.  Her mom, her dad…but—
No.  No, she couldn’t let  Saxon do this.   Her hand reached out.   She touched his shoulder.  “You

saved us. We’re all okay. He’ll go to jail and pay for what he did to them.”

He shuddered and didn’t lower the weapon. His gaze drifted over her face. “You were…trading

yourself. For me.”

Elizabeth nodded.
“Not worth it. Remember that.” He lifted the gun away from Gary’s head. “Vic…”
Victor took the gun from him. His hard stare raked over Gary. “Shit, how much damn longer can he

live like that without medical fucking intervention?”

“Don’t know…” Saxon muttered. “But when you get the docs…make ‘em work on me first.”
And then he fell to the ground.
Something inside of Elizabeth splintered right then. “Saxon!”

***

She stayed with Saxon for as long as she could. She held his hand, kept pressure on his wounds,

and she talked to Saxon the whole time that Victor was gone to call for help. Elizabeth wasn’t even
sure what she talked to him about. She just kept whispering to him, over and over, and she prayed.

When the helicopter flew in to take him and Gary away, she jumped on board. Victor was beside

her, but they weren’t able to talk with Saxon anymore. Medics had swarmed around him—him and
Gary.

Gary was still clinging to life. So was Saxon.

“Save Saxon first!” Victor snarled at the medics. “Do you understand? You save my brother first!”
After what seemed like an eternity, the chopper landed on a helipad at a hospital. Doctors rushed

out. And Saxon was taken away.

She stared after him, watching the hospital doors swing closed. Be okay, Saxon. Be okay.

Elizabeth looked to the right. Victor was at her side. He was as stiff and hard as a statue, but his face
was stamped with emotion.

Fear.
She recognized that emotion immediately because fear was eating her alive right then. She found

herself reaching for Victor’s hand. Her fingers locked with his, squeezed. “He’s the strongest man
I’ve ever met,” Elizabeth said simply.

Victor swallowed. “Even the strong can’t stop death.” Then he pulled from her. “I have to go call

our sister—I have to call Jasmine. She needs to know about Saxon.” He hurried toward those
swinging doors.

And Elizabeth was left there. She looked down at her shaking fingers and saw Saxon’s blood on

her hands.

So many people had died in this mess. Wesley. The men at the motel. That bastard Taggert.
And even my parents—it’s all linked.
But Saxon, no, he couldn’t die, too. She couldn’t lose him. Not when she’d just found him.

Chapter Nine

“Have I ever mentioned…” Victor demanded, his voice rough and hard, “how much I hate it when

you pull your hero crap with me?”

Ah, if Vic was pissed, then Saxon knew he was going to be just fine. With his eyes still closed,

Saxon smiled. “’Cause you’re…jealous…when I get the glory.”

“And the bullets in your sorry hide.”
Yes, the bullets. Those would be why he felt so ridiculously weak right then. Saxon sucked in a

breath and opened his eyes. Might as well see the damage. But when he looked down, he saw only
the white hospital covers.

“They stitched you up. Had to give you some blood because you’d lost too much, but you’ll make

it.”

He looked over at Victor. Vic was pale as he sat in the chair near the hospital bed. “You look…”

Saxon managed. “Like hell.”

“Yeah, well, you look like shit, so I guess that makes us a pretty good match.” Victor’s lips curled

faintly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. And, after a moment, the smile faded completely. “I had to
call Jazz.”

Damn. “You shouldn’t have…worried her.” Jazz. Jasmine Bennett. Well, now Jasmine Archer.

Once upon a time, Saxon, Victor, and Jasmine had come together on the streets. They’d relied on one
another for survival, and, as time slid past, they’d turned into a family.

If a fairly screwed-up one.
“She’s flying down here.”
His eyes closed. “I’m fine. She doesn’t need to see me.” The last thing he wanted was to worry

Jasmine. She’d been through enough hell. The woman was supposed to be happy now, living the high
life with her rich and adoring husband in Vegas. And if that guy ever forgets to be adoring, Vic and I
will kick his ass.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
Saxon stiffened. “I’m a bleeder.” He hadn’t been that close to death, had he?
“You almost died on the chopper ride here. If you didn’t stay with us, then hell yes, Jazz deserved

to know. She would have kicked my ass if I hadn’t told her.”

But Jasmine would just worry about him, and he hated for her to worry. She’d gotten lucky a few

months back. Found a smart man who appreciated her for all that she was—a man who’d been willing
to risk his life in order to protect Jasmine from the dangers that stalked her.

She deserved some happiness. She didn’t deserve to get pulled back into his and Victor’s mess.
“Tell me,” he said softly, “that Gary died on the chopper.”
One less threat facing Elizabeth.
“He’s in critical condition.”
The machines near Saxon were beeping in a steady rhythm. “I should’ve shot him when I had the

chance.”

Victor gripped his arm. “That’s not how the FBI works. You know that.”
Exhaustion pulled at him. Maybe from the blood loss. Maybe from the drugs they’d no doubt

pumped into him. But Saxon managed to open his eyes once more. “How many times do I have to…
tell you? Not FBI…anymore.”

“Then you’re still going through with it? Walking away…starting new?”
“Yes.” His eyes were sagging closed. His future waited. That perfect spot that he’d picked out in

California. Jazz’s husband had even been helping him manage that place for the last few months.
Something else I owe Drake for.

One day, he’d pay him back.
“You sure…about the things you’ll be giving up?”
“Undercover assignments…days with drug dealers…thieves…murderers?” He exhaled. “I’m

sure.”

“Then I’ll put the paperwork through,” Victor told him, “and Saxon Black will be no more.” He

rose then, and headed for the door. But then he hesitated. “You haven’t asked about her.”

He fought to keep his eyes open a few seconds more.
“She was giving up her life for you…you know that, right, man?” Victor looked back at him. “You

took two bullets while you were protecting her, and she ran out to face Gary, giving herself up, for
you.”

He knew exactly what Elizabeth had done. He would never forget it. Or her.
It’s not possible to forget her.
“You haven’t asked about her,” Victor said again. “Why the hell not?”
He swallowed. His throat ached. Had they shoved a tube down it? The docs were always so eager

to do that. “Why ask…” Saxon muttered. “For what you can’t have?”

Elizabeth deserved someone a whole lot better than he was. Someone who wasn’t so comfortable

with death. Someone who didn’t have to be talked down from killing a man.

Someone who wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of his own, real laughter.
“Others will come after her.”
The machines around him beeped—fast and hard.
“I mean, if that hit is still on her, don’t you think they’ll come?” Victor pushed. ‘When word leaks

about what went down in Miami, others will appear to collect the bounty. Even though Luther Bates is
still in prison, we both know his power stretches far beyond those walls. If he wants her dead…”

She will be. Victor didn’t say those words. But then, he didn’t have to voice them. Saxon knew the

score. He knew how men like Luther worked.

Saxon’s hands fisted. The machines near him—and their annoying beeping—seemed to be growing

louder. “Then you have to…make Luther cancel the hit.”

Victor stared back at him. “And if he doesn’t? You know there’s only one option I can give her.”
A new name. A new life. Somewhere else. Witness Protection—it was the option that Victor had

offered to Jazz when her life had been on the line.

“Then she’s gone,” Victor told him quietly. “For good. You going to be okay with that?”
No, he wasn’t okay with that. He wasn’t okay with anything about this tangled hell. He’d walked

into the back room of The Blade and gotten caught by a pair of frightened green eyes. Desperate eyes.

“I’ll give you forty-eight hours.” Victor inclined his head toward Saxon. “Then there will be

nothing I can do for you.” He opened the door and left.

Saxon’s eyes closed. Elizabeth. Talk about a twisted fate. He’d spent years in hell, and, days

before he’d gotten out of his undercover business, he’d been offered a visit to heaven.

And all he’d had to do…was nearly die for that pleasure.
It was totally fucking worth it.

***

A soft hand brushed over his cheek, pulling Saxon from the darkness of sleep.
“Oh, Saxon,” a low, feminine voice sighed his name, “what have you done to yourself this time?”
The voice and the touch were familiar. So when his eyes opened, he had a smile on his lips

because he didn’t want Jasmine to worry about him.

She stood beside his bed, and she wasn’t alone. The shark-in-a-suit that was her new husband—

Drake Archer—waited at her side.

“You got here fast,” Saxon said, the words a little too gruff.
“That’s the benefit of having a private jet.” Jasmine—hell, to him she would always just be Jazz—

smiled at him. “I’m a long way from those streets where we met.”

But they hadn’t technically met on the streets. They’d met in a blood-stained boxing ring. In fights

that weren’t sanctioned anywhere. He and Victor had been facing off. They’d beat each other to
bloody pulps—all to earn a little cash. For food. For survival. When the fight had ended, everyone
else had left, everyone but Jazz. She’d patched them up.

They’d become family.
Saxon’s gaze slid toward Drake. As usual, the guy was watching him with a wary stare and keeping

his hand on Jazz. After all the shit that had went down in their relationship, it wasn’t surprising that
Drake was still afraid Jazz might slip right through his fingers and vanish.

The way Elizabeth is going to do.
She edged ever closer to him. “I’m not supposed to get a call from Victor, telling me that you’re

fighting for your life.”

He tried to sit up. The damn stitches were pulling. “Vic panicked. I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. If you were fine, then you wouldn’t be in that bed. The doctors wouldn’t have

spent hours stitching you back up.”

He caught her hand. He’d always wanted to protect Jazz, even from the first moment they’d met.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to guard her, not like he wanted. She’d worked undercover for
Victor, too, and on her last case, she’d been hurt. Right in front of me. Whenever he remembered that
moment, fury tore through him. And he wanted to kill the bastard who’d put his hand on her.

He knew that Jazz’s husband felt the same way. Drake might look like a fancy suit, but the guy had

some real killer instincts. He’d proved that, again and again.

It’s why I like the guy. Why I told Vic to back the hell off and let Jazz be happy with him.
“What happened? Vic would only say that a mission went bad.”
Very bad. “We had a traitor in our midst. He came after me and Vic and the…the woman I was

protecting.”

Jasmine’s brown eyes showed her worry. “Is he still a threat?”
“According to Vic, he’s here in the hospital, hooked up to more machines than I am.”

Drake whistled. “And I’m guessing you’re the reason he’s that way.”
Saxon focused on Drake. “He was going to kill Elizabeth. So yeah, I wanted him dead.” Don’t act

like you can’t relate.

Drake nodded. “I’m surprised he’s still alive.”
“Victor made me stop.” Victor, and Elizabeth. Because he hadn’t wanted her to see him as just a

killer. Now, well, now she’d probably never be seeing him again, so what did it matter?

“You should come back to Vegas with us,” Jasmine said, her words rushing out. When she got

nervous, her words always sounded a little fast to him. “There’s plenty of room—”

Uh, yeah, because Drake owned a chunk of Sin City.
“And I can keep an eye on you.”
Drake nodded. “You know you’re always welcome. You’re family.”
Saxon pulled Jasmine close and gave her a hug. He ignored the sting of the stitches. What did a

little pain matter? “I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

“You scared me,” she whispered. There was a brief pause and then she revealed, “But that

wildness you carry…it’s always scared me a bit. Sometimes, it seemed like you had a death wish.”

Not anymore.  He eased back a bit. “I’m done with undercover work. I’m free, Jazz. Free.”
She smiled up at him.
“But I’m not coming to Vegas.”
Her smile dimmed.
“You know what I have waiting on me.”  His dream.  So close.
And, yet…still far away.
Did  that  dream  always  seem  a  little  empty?  Or  was  that  just  because—because  I  won’t  see

Elizabeth again?

“I get to visit you,” Jasmine said.
“Anytime you want.” Of course, he’d be different in this new life. He’d leave his killing past

behind. No longer would he have to pretend to be a criminal—I’ve been pretending for so long that
I almost lost myself.

But then he’d busted into that back room at The Blade and seen her.
Jasmine was searching his gaze. “Something is different.”
“I’m drugged,” he told her bluntly. “Pain meds.” That he hated. He’d already told the docs no

more. He couldn’t stand the slow, sluggish feeling in his body.

“Not that.” Her hand waved vaguely toward him. “You seem different.” Her gaze turned

calculating. “Who was the woman?”

Elizabeth.
He looked away from Jasmine. He hadn’t seen Elizabeth since he’d woken up. Saxon knew Victor

had her in protective custody, with a guard always close by.

“Ah,” Jasmine murmured, a wealth of understanding in that word. “Now I understand.”
No, she didn’t. Because he didn’t even understand. He glanced back at her. She’d returned to

Drake’s side. Their fingers linked together.

“I guess you have to figure out,” Drake murmured, obviously sharing some kind of weird psychic-

connection with his new bride, “if she’s the kind that you want to fight for or the kind that you let go.”

He looked down at Jasmine. “Because I sure as hell could never let you go.”

No, the guy hadn’t been able to walk away. He’d done anything, everything, for Jasmine.
Because he loved her.
“I don’t love Elizabeth,” he said. The words came out hollow. “How could I love someone I just

met?” She’d made him happy, yes, given him incredible pleasure. Driven him to distraction. Had
him wanting to fight the world to protect her but—

“She’s better off without me,” he muttered.
“Ah, Sax,” Jasmine sighed his name. “You know I can always tell when you lie.”

***

“Am I under arrest?” Elizabeth asked softly.
The man across from her shook his head.
Her breath came out in a low rush. “Then is there a particular reason why you’ve been holding me

here for the last day?” Because it sure felt like an arrest to her. When she’d finally broken out of her
stupor and tried to surge into that hospital after Saxon, she’d found cops on their way to get her. Three
uniformed men had closed in, and they’d taken her from that hospital, even though she’d fought them.

Maybe punched one in the jaw.
She’d just…wanted to see Saxon. To make sure he was all right. So she’d gotten a little out of

control. Keeping her locked up after that little episode had hardly been necessary.

“This isn’t legal.” They hadn’t put her in a cell. Instead, they’d given her an office to crash in.

Made sure she had plenty of food. Access to a bathroom. But she hadn’t been able to leave.

Because she had a guard wherever she went.
“I know my rights,” Elizabeth continued when the young cop before her just kept staring back into

her eyes. “I want to go home.”  Back to the place where this nightmare had started. It seemed like a
lifetime ago—she’d been heading to her apartment when those goons had grabbed her. She’d fought,
lost her shoes, and found herself thrown into the back of their vehicle.   They’d put a hood over her
head and tied her up.  When that hood had finally come off, she’d found a gun pointing at her.

I was in The Blade then. Saxon came in the door and asked for an hour with me.
“How is Saxon?” Elizabeth whispered.
He opened his mouth to speak.
And that was the same instant that the door to that little office opened.
Her gaze immediately swung to the left, and when she saw Victor standing there, Elizabeth surged

to her feet. She was across the room in an instant, and her hands fisted around his shirt. “Saxon! Is
Saxon all right?”

Victor’s gaze cut toward the cop. “Take a break.”
The guy hesitated. “But I’m her shift guard—”
“And I’m here now,” Victor pointed out, his voice carrying a lethal softness, “so take a fucking

break.”

The cop’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he hurried for the door.
Elizabeth kept her death grip on Victor’s shirt. The agent looked tired, with deep shadows under

his eyes. His hair was mussed, and tension was evident on the lines that bracketed his mouth. “He’s

not dead,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t you say that he is.”

The door shut behind the cop. Victor looked down at Elizabeth’s hands. Carefully, his fingers

curled around hers, and he slowly pushed her back a bit. “I’m sorry you were held here, but when I
found out that I had a turncoat on my own team, I couldn’t take chances.”

“Saxon.” Why wasn’t he just answering her?
His jaw hardened. “Saxon Black won’t be working your case any longer.”
“Is he alive?” Because she’d had to wash his blood off her fingers. Had to watch it slide down

the drain in that little bathroom down the hall. Then she’d cried. Cried until she’d thought her whole
body would break.

He risked his life for me. A stranger…who gave up everything.
Victor’s gaze cut toward the wall on the right. There was an observation mirror there. One that

threw their own reflections back at them, but let other cops view them from the other side. She’d seen
plenty of those one-way mirrors on TV shows. She knew the deal.

“I don’t care who is watching,” Elizabeth said. “I have to know.”
Victor brought his mouth close to her ear. His lips brushed against her as he breathed, “He

survived, but he’s dead to you…and everyone else.”

Happiness surged through her at that one word…survived. A choking sob burst from her, but

then…

He’s dead to you…and everyone else.
She didn’t understand. Her head turned. Her gaze held Victor’s. “Why?” His words weren’t

making sense to her, not at all.

But Victor stepped back.
Her hands wrapped around her stomach as a strange, scared tension seemed to course through her

veins.

“I’m here to offer you a choice, Ms. Ward.” His words were emotionless, and so was the

expression on his face. She was sure that sympathy had flashed in his gaze before, but there was no
sign of any softening from him now.

She locked her trembling knees. “What kind of choice?”
“All of my intel shows that Luther Bates still has a hit on you.”
She could feel the blood draining from her face. She’d feared this—how could she not? But

actually hearing those words from Victor had her heart stuttering in her chest.

“Gary won’t be the only one who comes after you. Luther Bates—hell, even in jail—he’s still a

man with a whole lot of power.”

“B-but my parents have been dead for years. No one came after me before…no one knew—”
“Because you were in Europe. Out of sight…safe, until you came down to Miami, and someone

recognized you.”

The sick feeling in her stomach told her that he was going to say—
“I’d wager that someone was Wesley Locke. He figured out who you were because he’d been on

Luther’s payroll before. He sold you out, but I’m guessing the guy didn’t realize he’d wind up dead,
too.”

Her lips felt numb as she said. “He…he told me to run. Right before he died—those were the last

words he said to me.”

“If you’re trying to get away from Luther Bates, you have to run far and you have to run fast.” His

voice deepened as he said, “I will do everything in my power to get that hit order rescinded. If
Luther will call off his dogs, you can have a chance at a normal life.”

A chance?
“But Luther is a twisted sonofabitch, a man who believes in the eye for an eye mentality. He thinks

your family ruined his life, so his goal…it seems to be taking your life.”

It hurt to breathe. “I don’t…I don’t hear choices from you.” More like just really sucky news. At

least Saxon survived. Saxon is going to be okay! She’d just never be seeing him again. Her hand
rose to rub at the growing ache in her chest.

Victor exhaled on a rough sigh. “You can stay here, in this town, and face the risks that are going to

come your way. I can give you some guards while I go to talk with Luther Bates…”

She waited.
“Or you can get the hell out of Miami,” he said bluntly. “Disappearing before worked for you, and

it can work again. I’ve got pull at the Department of Justice. I can get you a new start. A new name,
someplace else to live. You can vanish, and just start over again in a different town.”

She took a step back. “I just got here.” She’d just gotten used to her routine, just made new friends.

She’d been working on the hospital fund-raiser so she could—

“I think if you stay, you’ll die here.”
Elizabeth flinched at those cold, blunt words. Obviously, Victor didn’t believe in pulling his

punches.

“And I need you,” he added. “Gary Warren wanted to eliminate you…hell, he risked everything to

take you out—blowing his cover at the FBI and coming straight to battle me—so that means there was
something special about you. Something he didn’t want you telling me…”

“There’s nothing special,” she said, her words hoarse. “Not a damn thing about me.”
“When your parents were killed, you might have seen him. You might have known something that

could link him to their deaths—something that could blow his cover. So he went hard after you. He
tried to take out two federal agents in order to get you.”

And he’d killed all of those people when he hunted her? But…Gary had looked familiar to her.

“I’d seen his face before,” she mumbled. “I-I think I had, anyway.” Her hands slid back to her sides.
Every breath she took felt cold in her lungs. “But I can’t remember when! Or where.”

“Maybe you just need some time to think about your past.”
Why would she want to do that? The past hurt, but then, so did the present. She turned away from

him and paced toward the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, an image of a woman who
looked far too fragile. They’d given her new clothes, a t-shirt and jeans, and she looked…lost. Too
pale, hair tousled, eyes far too big.

I don’t want to be lost.
“My choice,” she paused, licked her dry lips, then said, “is to stay here with a guard…and keep

living my life.”

He was silent behind her, but she could easily see his reflection in the mirror. In contrast to her, he

was big, tan, muscled. Dangerous. Solid.

“Do you think this Luther Bates will call off the hit on me?” Elizabeth asked.
He started to shake his head. She saw that faint movement, but he seemed to catch himself. “I’ll talk

with him.”

So…no. He didn’t think Luther was going to back off.
“And if a guard stays with me, then that person…he or she would be at risk, just like Saxon was.”

Saying his name hurt. How was it possible for one man to get to her this way? She’d known him for
such a short time, but now, everything seemed different. She wasn’t even looking at the world the
same way any longer.

Because I know the world isn’t safe now. I know danger is out there. It’s always been out there,

and I was just stumbling around in the dark without a clue.

“The agents know the risks that they face.”
She kept staring at that mirror. Who was on the other side? “I’m sorry, but I don’t actually trust

your agents.” How could she? “Seeing as how one of them tried to kill me, and, by his own
admission, he murdered my parents.” The pain was there, waiting to open up and swallow her, but
she couldn’t give in. Not yet.

Elizabeth made herself face Victor. “There is a third choice, you know. Maybe I should disappear

on my own. I did a good enough job of it before.” She hadn’t been afraid, not once, while she’d been
in Europe.

But Victor gave a negative shake of his head. “That’s not going to work.”
Why not?
“Luther was being hauled to jail the last time you got on a plane and left. He and his men were

doing damage control. You slipped away at the perfect time.” His lips thinned. “They know about you
now. You won’t be able to get away, not without help.”

He wasn’t getting it. “How am I supposed to trust any agent you send to me?” How was she

supposed to trust anyone?

Silence. “You trusted Saxon.”
Pain knifed her in the gut. “And I nearly got him killed.”
“His job.”
She stormed toward him. “And my life.” Her breath heaved out. Dammit, this couldn’t be

happening. It shouldn’t be happening. “I don’t want another guard. I don’t want to look at people,
every single day, and wonder…who is a killer—who’s coming after me now?”

“You won’t have the resources to vanish on your own. If you try it, then you’ll be tracked down.

You’ll slip up. Use a credit card that can be linked to you. Call the wrong person. You’ll be found,
and then you’ll be dead.”

It sounded like she might be a dead woman no matter what. Elizabeth swiped at the tear that had

trickled down her cheek.

“What will it be?” Victor asked her.
There was no choice, and Elizabeth knew that Victor had realized it all along. “New name. New

place…and no agents on my trail.”

“You’ll get a handler, someone to check in with…someone to make sure you’re safe. I’ll

personally vet him for you—”

Her laughter cut him off. “Didn’t you do that before?”
“You will be safe,” he promised her.
Then he turned and left her. Her chin stayed up and her spine remained straight until the door shut

behind him, then, when she was alone…the pain took over.

She turned to stare at her reflection and saw the fresh tears on her cheeks.

***

Fucking no.
Saxon’s hand was on the glass that separated him from Elizabeth. She was there, dammit, she was

crying, and he felt as if Gary was shooting him all over again because the pain was so hot and—

“Well…she’s made her choice.”
Victor’s voice came from just a few feet away. Saxon didn’t look back at the guy. He couldn’t take

his eyes off Elizabeth. “You didn’t give her a damn choice.”

“Sure I did. She could keep her old life here, and probably die here, too, or she could go

somewhere and become someone brand spanking new.”

His wounds hurt. He was supposed to still be in the hospital, but he’d dragged his ass out of bed

because he’d needed to see Elizabeth once more.

“You’re becoming someone new, too,” Victor murmured. “Guess you’ll both just move right on…”
No, he wasn’t moving on. “Who is her handler going to be? How the fuck do you know you can

trust the guy?” And would that guy have intimate access to Elizabeth?

Yes. Shit. He would. He’d be there, her closest contact day and night. The guy she called if she got

scared. The man who’d help her if she needed anything—

“I’m going to get Elizabeth set up. I’ll be working her case personally.”
Elizabeth looked as if she were staring right at him, her gaze boring through the glass.
“I’ll take care of her,” Victor assured him. “Don’t worry.”
She was in pain right then. Crying without making a single sound.
Then her lips moved. He stiffened. Wait…did she know he was there? Because it sure looked like

she’d just whispered…

I’m sorry.
His hand fisted near the glass.
Thank you for saving me.
“I’ll make sure she gets set up in a safe location.” Victor’s tone seemed so confident. “Then I’ll go

after Luther Bates.”

They’d already covered this. “You don’t believe the guy is going to call off the hit.”
“I won’t know anything for sure, not until I talk to him.” Victor’s voice grew louder as he closed

in on Saxon. “It sure would be nice if I could have someone in the field who would keep an eye on
her, until I got this shit sorted out. Someone who could protect her when I wasn’t there. Because,
Witness Protection is good and all…as long as no one finds the witness.”

She wiped her hands over her cheeks. Squared her shoulders once more.
And she even managed a weak smile.

She knows I’m here.
“You whispered something to her,” Saxon said as he replayed that little scene in his mind.

“Something I couldn’t hear.” He sure hadn’t liked how close Victor had gotten to Elizabeth. It had
looked like the guy was kissing her. Friend or no friend, brother or not…Saxon had felt jealousy burn
in him.

Victor’s hands had been on her skin. His mouth had been touching her ear. That shit had made him

see red because Saxon could still remember what it was like to drive into the hot silk of her sex.
Because she was crying—for me.

He wasn’t sure anyone had ever actually cried over him before. His mother sure hadn’t cared about

him. She forgot me the minute I walked out of the door. No, she’d actually forgotten about him long
before that—when he’d still been in the house and days would pass without her even speaking to him.

But Elizabeth, a woman he’d met just days before…she cried for him. She’d risked her life for him.
“I told her that you’d survived, but that you wouldn’t be seeing her again.”
She had paced back across the room and sat down. As he kept watching, the door to that room

opened, and the fresh-faced cop returned.

“And I told her…” Victor continued quietly, “that you were dead to her and everyone else.”
Saxon’s head jerked as he turned to glare at his friend.
“You’re free and clear now, buddy,” Victor said as he slapped a hard hand on Saxon’s shoulder.

“So tell me…how the hell are you enjoying that freedom?”

Saxon’s eyes narrowed even more on Victor. “Fucking asshole.”
Victor smiled at him. “I’ll be moving her by dawn. I figure you’ll need a bit longer to recover

before your transfer.”

She’d just be—gone?
Victor released him and turned away. “Maybe it will all work out,” Victor said as he walked

toward the door. “Maybe she’ll vanish into suburbia. Marry some accountant or banker and have two
point five kids.”

That would mean she had to sleep with the damn accountant.
She cried for me.
“I hope you enjoy your new life,” Victor said. He opened the door.
And Saxon heard himself say… “Wait…”
When Victor swung back with a smug smile on his face, Saxon knew he’d played straight into the

guy’s hands.

But I can’t let her go.
Not now. Maybe not ever.

***

Two hours later, Victor entered another interrogation room at the Miami police station. When he

opened the door, Tracy Adams jumped to her feet and ran toward him.

“Victor, you’ve got to let me explain—” She grabbed his arm and her nails bit into his skin. “I

didn’t know what Gary was doing, I swear, I didn’t!” Her breath heaved out. “I’m a good agent. I’d
never turn on the Bureau!”

This was the part that burned him. “You were his partner. No one worked more closely with him

than you did.” So if anyone would have known about Gary’s true nature, it would have been her.

She paled as she stared up at him. “You were the one who partnered us. I didn’t know him until I

got the assignment. I had no idea the guy was-was taking hits!”

He wanted to believe her and because of that, he had to make absolutely sure he showed no

weakness.  “You’re  being  investigated.”  She  would  have  already  figured  that  part  out  on  her  own.
“The  FBI  Brass  is  on  a  witch  hunt  right  now,  looking  to  take  down  anyone  who  might  have  been
working  with  Gary.” And  that  was  the  fear.  That  there  were  others  like  him  embedded  in  the  FBI.
“Your life is about to be torn apart, Tracy. Every secret that you have will be brought right out into
the hard light of day.”

She pulled away from him. Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t have secrets. I’m a good FBI agent.”
It almost sounded like a mantra that she had to repeat.
He walked to the small table. Pulled out a chair and settled down. “We’ll see about that…”
Anger flashed in her eyes. Anger…and fear.
His back teeth ground together. If she’d betrayed him, then he’d make certain she paid.
“Is…is Gary still alive?”
He just stared back at her.
“Because if he is, then he can tell you I wasn’t working with him,” Tracy said quickly. “Just ask

him. Just—”

“He’s in critical condition at the hospital right now.” Because Saxon had wanted to destroy that

SOB. The guy hadn’t exactly been playing nicely. When your life was on the line—or the life of
someone you cared about—nice didn’t enter the equation. “He’s not exactly able to talk right now.”

With slow, shuffling footsteps, she made her way to the table and slid into her chair. “I’ve never

been on this side of the table.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t like it.” A hoarse confession.

He flattened his hands on that old table top. There was nothing about this that he liked. “Gary tried

to kill me last night. You were his partner. You are his partner, so if anyone was involved in this
tangled hell with him, it would be you.”

That was the story the higher-ups at the FBI were spinning.
But Tracy shook her head. “It’s not me.” Her hand flew across the table and grabbed his wrist. She

leaned forward and her voice lowered. “Vic, you know me. Inside and out.”

Fuck. She would bring up that night. One time.
“I wouldn’t do this.”
He stared back at her. This conversation was being recorded so he might as well put all the cards

on the table. “We had sex once, before you came on board with my team.”

She flushed and glanced toward the one-way mirror.
“So I know you physically, yes, but that won’t have one bit of bearing on my investigation.”
Her hand pulled away.
He gave her a grim smile. There was no room for emotion, not when lives were on the line. Not

when Saxon had come so close to death. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

She blinked quickly, as if trying to banish tears. “Vic…”
It was a good thing he was used to playing the role of the cold-blooded bastard. “No secrets,

Chapter Ten

My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Elizabeth locked her knees and silently repeated that little mantra to herself one more time.
My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Two weeks had passed since she’d lost her life—and that was how she thought of it. As far as the

rest of the world was concerned, Elizabeth Ward was gone. Vanished. Victor had whisked her away.
He’d gotten her out of the police station in Miami and stayed with her even while a US Marshall
came to explain the whole Witness Protection Program thing to her.

After the US Marshall had appeared, she’d expected Victor to dump her and walk away…but he’d

stayed. Told her that he was handling things personally with her. Since she’d been barely holding her
shit together, she’d been grateful to have him at her side. Victor had lingered while she was
transferred and, finally, settled along the California Coast.

Wine country. Victor had put her in wine country, and it truly was a beautiful place. Nestled far

from the hustle and bustle of the city, the whole area seemed like some kind of oasis to her. When she
stared outside of her little cottage, she just saw miles and miles of rolling green space.

No big buildings. No traffic jams that stretched for miles.
Peace. Beauty.
If it weren’t for the fact that she still felt like her heart had been ripped out, she’d almost be happy

there.

Saxon. He was the one thing she missed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him out of her

head. Or her heart.

“Ms. Meadows?” A feminine voice queried, sounding slightly annoyed.
Crap. That’s me. Elizabeth jumped to her feet. She was at the winery because this place…it was

supposed to be her new job site. Victor and his Witness Protection buddies had lined up the position
for her. She was there to meet her new boss, and she was already screwing things up before she’d
even set her eyes on the man.

The redhead was standing by an office door, with a faint frown on her face.
“Sorry,” Elizabeth mumbled as she hurried past her and into the office. “I didn’t…hear you.”
“The four times I called your name?” The woman’s lips curved in a faint smile that wasn’t cruel,

but sweetly kind. “Sometimes nervousness can do that to you.”

Her cheeks stained. It’s not my name, okay? I’m still getting used to it. But, yes, she was so

nervous her whole body was shaking.

Before Elizabeth could say anything else, the redhead backed away and pulled the door shut. The

click of that door closing sure seemed overly loud in that office—and what a plush office it was. She
could smell leather in that place and those floor to ceiling windows on the right were amazing. Talk
about a killer view. Insanely gorgeous and—

Where’s my new boss?
Because she was standing in an empty office.
Elizabeth inched a bit closer to the big, mahogany desk. She was supposed to be meeting with a

Mr. Laurent. Only he wasn’t there and—

“I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice came from behind her and it was a voice that froze her.

Deep, dark, seeming to completely overwhelm her because it was his voice.

Saxon.
She wanted to whirl around, but her body had shut down and she couldn’t move at all. It’s not

him. Saxon isn’t here. I’m meeting with a Michael Laurent. I want to hear Saxon’s voice so badly
that I’m imagining it.

The floor creaked beneath his footsteps.
“Mr. Laurent.” Her voice trembled and she hated that. Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’m—”
“I know exactly who you are.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. His voice. I’d know his voice anywhere. After all, she heard it every

night in her dreams.

“Look at me.”
She didn’t want to. Because then she might see that he wasn’t Saxon.
He touched her, and a gasp slipped from her because she knew his touch so well. His fingers had

curled around her shoulder, and when she looked down, she could see the faint scars that lined his
knuckles.

“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth whispered.
“Protecting you.”
Those words pierced right through her. They also terrified her. “I almost got you killed before. I

don’t want you risking anything else for me, do you understand?”

Silence was his answer, but his fingers tightened on her shoulder.
“Victor said you were dead to me.” Did he know how much that had cut her up? No, probably not.

Because this wild tangle of emotions was all just on her side. Get your control, woman!

“I am.”
Then she had to jerk out of his hold. She tried to take a few fast and frantic steps away from him,

but Saxon caught her. He spun her around and yanked her right back up against him.

“Make no mistake,” he told her, his voice a hard growl, “Saxon Black is dead. Saxon Black, Saxon

Marshall, Saxon Smith…every fucking alias I used when I was undercover with the FBI—they’re all
dead.”

His body was pressed tightly to hers. She could feel his muscles, his strength. There was no sign

of pain on his face. But the last time she’d seen him, Saxon had barely been clinging to life.

Because of me.
“You already know I was working my last case for Vic down in Miami. I was set to start a new

life,” he told her. “This life. I picked the place. I planned for years. Hell, I bought this place with the
money I earned working jobs you don’t ever want to know about.”

The winery was his? She shook her head. “They sent me here—”
“Vic sent you to me.” His gaze was so dark as it spread over her face and that was when she

realized—

He’s different.
It wasn’t just the suit he wore, one that looked as if it had been custom made for his muscled

frame. Or the new cut of his hair—a cut that swept back his thick hair—hair that appeared so much

darker now. The new style and darkness somehow made his face look less rough and dangerous, and
more sensual, elegant.

When she stared up at him, she wasn’t seeing the deadly lover who’d saved her before in Miami.

She wasn’t really sure who she was seeing at all.

Michael Laurent?
He’d just rattled off too many other aliases for her. The guy had spent his life undercover. Who

was he, really?

And did it even matter?
Because right then, she was so freaking happy—she threw her arms around him and held him as

tightly as she could. Tears wanted to fall from her eyes, but Elizabeth blinked them away. “I was so
afraid you’d die.” She would never forget those terrifying moments on that chopper. She squeezed
him even tighter. “Oh, God, I was scared—”

And he was kissing her. Kissing her hard and deep and wild. Kissing her like Saxon—her Saxon.

He lifted her up against him, held her easily, and the tight band around her heart—the band she’d
carried for two, long weeks—finally seemed to ease.

Her hands were around his neck. His hands were on her hips. He was walking with her in his

grasp, still kissing her, still driving that wonderful tongue of his into her mouth, and she wanted to
devour him right then and there. She. Wanted. Him.

Saxon put her on the desk. Shoved paperwork aside and pushed right between her legs. The skirt

she’d been wearing hiked up, and his hands—those rough, callused hands—curled around her thighs.

“Fucking missed you…” he rasped against her mouth. “Missed…fucking…you…” His right hand

rose and curled around the crotch of her panties.

It felt like everything was moving at super speed, one hundred miles an hour—two hundred—and

she didn’t care.

Saxon. Saxon!
He ripped her panties out of the way. Tossed them aside. Then his fingers were pushing into her

sex.

Her hands slammed down behind her on the desk. Her head tipped back as she tried to gulp in

some desperately needed air. Her heart was thudding in her chest and her sex—it was closing
greedily around his fingers.

His thumb pressed to her clit. Stroking her so perfectly. One night, but he’d learned her body’s

secrets. He knew exactly what to do in order to make her—

“Not yet, baby,” he said as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her throat. “I need to taste you

first. All of you.”

Then he was on his knees before her. His hands pulled her to the edge of the desk. Her skirt was up

high, exposing her fully to him. Saxon glanced up at her. Licked his lips. Then he put his mouth on her
sex. No hesitation. Just taking. With his tongue and his mouth and his fingers.

Pleasure hit her, slamming through her whole body as the orgasm rolled over her and had her

gasping his name—and pressing her sex even closer to him.

The contractions of her sex wouldn’t stop. The pleasure wouldn’t end and he was rising.

Unzipping his pants. Positioning his cock and then driving hard into her.

Her breath caught at that deep plunge. And time finally just—stopped.

No more super speed. There was only stillness. A moment frozen as she stared into his eyes.

Elizabeth saw the need, the dark, fierce passion reflected in his stare.

He bent his head and kissed her. Her hands rose and curled around his shoulders even as her legs

locked around his hips. She wanted to hold him as tightly as she could. To never let go.

The pleasure hadn’t ended, and when he started thrusting, moving in a rhythm that was hard and

demanding, a moan pulled from her lips. Her sex was swollen and sensitive, and every movement of
his body had her aching.

He was kissing her neck again. Kissing that spot along the column of her throat that made her

quiver.

“Couldn’t…let you go…” Another hard thrust. “Fucking…couldn’t…” And, if possible, he got

even bigger inside of her. He’d stretched her so much that there should have been pain, but there was
only pleasure.

Only Saxon.
He withdrew, plunged deep, and she opened her mouth to scream because the release was that

violent.

“Bite me,” he ordered her. “Now.”
And instead of screaming, she found her cry muffled against his shoulder.
Then she felt him coming inside of her. Hot jets that told her—
“Saxon?” Her head lifted.
His eyes were a burning darkness. So complete and total. “Mine,” he whispered.
He kissed her once more.

***

It wasn’t the first time that Victor had been in a maximum security lockup. And he knew it wouldn’t

be the last either.

He sat at the narrow table, his hands in front of him, no weapon at his side, and he waited for

Luther Bates to make his grand entrance into the room. He knew the devil would want a deal. There
was no way the guy would just smile and say, “Sure, buddy, I’ll call off the hit. The woman will be
free and clear. No problem.”

Because shit like that just didn’t happen in Victor’s world.
There were only two good things in Victor’s world…those were his two friends. His only family.

Jasmine and Saxon. He’d do anything for them.

And that’s why the hell I’m here. Saxon wants the hit taken off Elizabeth, so I’m going to make a

deal with the devil.

The door opened. The prisoner shuffled in, moving very slowly because his hands and feet were

shackled. The garish orange garb he wore made Luther Bates look even paler…or maybe that pallor
was due to the fact that the guy was being kept in solitary confinement for twenty-three hours a day.

Luther had used a shiv on a guy one week before. Even in prison, he still had to be a bad ass.
“What the fuck do you want?” Luther demanded.
There was a guard at his side.
“A few minutes of your time,” Victor murmured, “and by the way, you’re welcome for the little

break from solitaire.”

The guard pulled out a chair for Luther. The fellow didn’t shove the prisoner down. If anything, he

was too solicitous as he seated Luther. A quick glance showed Victor that there was plenty of fear in
the guy’s eyes. Right. The fellow would know that Luther’s reach went far beyond the prison walls.

“I don’t know you,” Luther said as his beady eyes swept over Victor. “And trust me, asshole, you

don’t want me as an enemy.”

Victor pulled out his FBI identification and put it on the table.
Luther frowned then said, “Oh, so I guess you’re already my fucking enemy.” His face twisted with

disgust. “Like I don’t have enough of you dumbasses breathing down my neck every single day—”

“Maryann Ward.” Deliberately, he threw out the name of Elizabeth’s mother.
Luther’s eyes narrowed. “Why are we talking about the dead?”
“Because you took out a hit on her.”
The guard shuffled back a few feet.
Luther glanced at the guard, then turned his suddenly sly stare back on Victor. “I think you’ve got

some bad information, Mr. FBI Agent.”

It was Victor’s turn to look at the guard. “Leave us alone.”
“I-I’m not supposed to—”
“I’m an FBI Special Agent. The prisoner is shackled. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Victor pointed to the door. “Stay right on the other side, if that makes you feel better.”

The guard was sweating. And wavering.
“Go,” Luther growled.
The guard scrambled to obey. When the door clanged shut behind the man, Luther sighed. “We’re

lucky the kid didn’t just shit his pants.”

“He’s terrified of you.”
Luther grunted. “Yeah, cause he’s smart. He should be scared.” Luther paused and his green stare

swept over Victor. “And you should be scared, too.” He leaned forward and looked at the ID that was
still on the table. “Agent Monroe.”

“I don’t scare easily.”
Luther cocked his head as he studied Victor. “How long you been with the FBI?”
“Long enough.” Victor wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated. “Maryann Ward,” he said again.
“That woman was a lying bitch. Made me think she wanted me, gave me some bull about finally

leaving her husband and running away with me.” Anger flashed on his face. “I trusted her with all my
secrets, and she betrayed me.” His shackles rattled. “I don’t take any betrayal, not from anybody.”

“Is that why you put out the hit on Maryann and her family? To pay them back for the betrayal?”
Luther smiled, and it was a chilling sight, “I don’t know anything about a hit.”
Yes, he did. “That hit is still in place,” Victor said, using all his self-control to keep his voice flat

and emotionless as he leaned forward. “A kill order went out on Maryann Ward, on Stan Ward, and
on their daughter, Elizabeth.”

Because he was watching Luther so closely, Victor saw the guy’s eyelids flicker, just a bit.
“Even after all this time,” Victor muttered. “You still want your pound of flesh. You still want

Elizabeth Ward to die.”

Luther stared straight at him.
“I need you to call off the hit,” Victor said.
And Luther Bates did just what he’d expected…the guy laughed in Victor’s face.
So Victor jumped up, grabbed the back of the Luther’s head, and slammed the guy’s face into the

table.

When Luther howled, Victor repeated, “I’m going to need you to call off that hit.”

***

He was balls-deep in Elizabeth. Balls-deep and he hadn’t put on protection.
I didn’t mean to pounce on her.
He’d actually planned a whole speech that he’d meant to say to her. But then he’d taken one look at

her and desire, uncontrollable need, had struck him like lightning. When he’d pulled her into his arms
and kissed her, he’d been a goner. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment.

Not when she’d been kissing him.
Not when she’d been making that sexy little moan in the back of her throat.
Not when she’d wanted him, too.
His heartbeat was still thundering in his ears. His hands were locked too tightly around her hips.

He was probably bruising her. Shit, he didn’t want to do that. He never wanted to hurt her. Saxon
made his hands move. He put them on the desk and lifted his head.

Elizabeth’s breath came in ragged pants. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glittered up at

him.

She’d changed in the last two weeks. Her hair was cut shorter, and that style just made her eyes

seem even bigger. The color was darker, deeper. Her clothes were pure fucking sex appeal—
especially those killer shoes that she still had on. He loved those heels.

There were some changes there, yes, especially since she’d been so desperate and afraid during

their time together. But now…now…

I still want her just as much. No, that was a lie. He wanted her even more.
But he should probably apologize for attacking her like a starving man. He was supposed to be

playing the gentleman in this place. The sophisticated businessman.

It wasn’t a role he’d had before. The fighter from the streets, the killer, well, that was the guy he

knew. The man he understood.

But Vic told me all along…wear the money. Get the right clothes and have the right power. Then

no one will question your past. They’ll only look at your surface and not care about the secrets
you keep.

“You…didn’t use anything.” Her voice came out hoarse and soft. He’d missed that husky voice.

He’d missed her.

“I’m clean,” he told her and while her voice had been soft, his had been a rough rumble. Way too

beast-like.

“So am I.”
But there was another worry. Only he wasn’t actually worried about her getting pregnant with his

child. In fact, if she did get pregnant, he thought that would be pretty—

“And I’m covered, with birth control. So you don’t have to worry.”
I wasn’t. Because he was a selfish bastard, and he’d take any tie he could get with her.
But still… “I’m sorry.” The words were rusty. He wasn’t sure when he’d last apologized to

someone. “I don’t always…think…well, when I’m with you.” Primal instinct took over. He’d
needed her more than he’d needed breath. He’d once told her that if he had the chance, he’d take
her…and not a breath.

He’d been dead serious.
She tilted her head back and her hair slid over her cheeks. He was still inside of her and getting

harder by the moment. Her sex was pure heaven, so tight and hot, and, over the last fourteen days,
he’d tried to convince himself that there was no way she’d been as good as he’d thought. No way. It
must have been the adrenaline. The extreme situation. She couldn’t have been—

Perfect.
But she was.
Her hand lifted. Her fingers lightly skimmed over his cheek and a faint smile curved her full lips.

“I missed you,” her words were a soft confession.

He put his forehead against hers. Elizabeth’s scent surrounded him, and he knew that he’d made the

right choice. The only choice. There had been no way to walk away from her. Victor—tricky SOB—
had known that. So Saxon had done the only thing he could…

He had Elizabeth brought to him. To the new life that waited for him.
Desire was sharpening its claws within him again. But…but people were waiting for him. For

Elizabeth. He’d really like to tell all those people to screw off.

I need to show Elizabeth what I can be.
So, slowly, carefully, he withdrew from her. She gave that little moan again—the one that drove

him wild—and he almost had to drive right back into her.

His jaw locked as he pulled down her skirt. Her panties were shredded, so those weren’t going to

be much good. I’ll buy her a dozen more. Because that sexy scrap of lace had made him see red for a
moment.

She sat on the desk, not moving, just watching, as he re-arranged his own clothes.
Saxon went to the bathroom attached to his office and came back with a warm cloth for her. When

he carefully brushed the cloth over her sex, she gasped and her eyes flared wide.

There was growing desire in her eyes.
Like I could have ever walked away from that.
He discarded the cloth and tried to remember the speech he was supposed to say. Saxon cleared

his throat. “You, ah, you told Victor that you couldn’t trust anyone else,” he pushed the words out.
“But you can trust me.” Always. “I’m here, and I’ll stand between you…and everyone else.”

She slid off the desk. Her knees seemed to wobble and he reached out to her, but she steadied

herself. Elizabeth gave a hard shake of her head. “I don’t want you risking your life for me! You
were already nearly killed—” She broke off as an expression of horror flashed across her face. “Oh,
no, your injuries! I forgot about them because we were—” Her hand flew over her mouth. “I’m so
sorry,” she mumbled behind that hand. “Did I hurt you?”

He laughed. Saxon just couldn’t help it.

She stared up at him, her hand falling away and her beautiful eyes widening even more as their

eyes held.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he managed, “don’t you think any pain was worth it?”
Elizabeth licked her lips.
I’ve got plans for that mouth.
“You didn’t hurt me,” Saxon assured her. He could have been shot again, and, when he’d been in

her, Saxon didn’t think he would have felt the pain.

Her gaze lowered. She seemed to be looking for his wounds. The wounds didn’t matter. They

were just scars now, more to add to his growing collection. He had so many, inside and out.

“I couldn’t stand it,” she said, “if something else happened to you because of me.”
Right. Time for them to get a few things clear. He caught her chin between his thumb and

forefinger and made her look up at him. “Never again,” he told her, voice harsh and cold but she
needed to get this message.

Elizabeth blinked.
“You never, ever try to give your life for me, do you understand?” That was an exchange that

would not be made.

She started to shake her head.
His hold tightened on her. “I’m not worth it.”
Oh, hell, he’d meant to say—
“You are to me,” she whispered back.
There was a knock at the door. A quick glance at his clock showed him that it was time for the tour

of the facility. All of the new staff members were being taken around, including Elizabeth.

“We have to go,” he told her. But he didn’t want to go anyplace. He wanted to stay right there and

fuck her again. Endlessly. And because he did, he leaned forward and kissed her once more.

The knock sounded again. “Sir!” It was the voice of his new assistant, Vanessa League. “Sir, do

you need more time?”

Hell, yes.
“You’re really my boss now?” Elizabeth’s voice was as soft as a breath.
His fingers slid away from her chin. “I’m Michael Laurent.” His gaze searched hers. “Michael

Saxon Laurent.” Because he knew how the game was played. When you picked a new identity, you
were supposed to keep your new name a bit close to the name you’d used before. That way, you
would actually respond when people were talking to you.

Soon enough, he’d be telling his new acquaintances to call him Saxon.
And as for Elizabeth…
Bethany was close to her former name, but to him, she’d always be my Elizabeth.
He headed for the door. When he opened it, Vanessa flushed and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

Hmmm…he’d tried to be quiet in there, but maybe he hadn’t been quiet enough.

Because if she said or did anything to make Elizabeth feel uncomfortable, then he’d just be finding

a new assistant, ASAP.

“We’ll be right out, Vanessa,” he assured her. “We’re just finishing up.”
She gave a quick nod before hurrying away.

Chapter Eleven

Luther Bates had stopped laughing. He was bleeding now, thanks to that whole face-into-the-table

incident.

“And people think the FBI agents are the good guys,” Luther muttered. “So clueless.”
Victor raised a brow. “I’m guessing you aren’t just talking about me.” He smiled. “Gary Warren?

Does that name ring a bell with you?”

Luther’s expression didn’t change.
“He confessed,” Victor told the guy. He wasn’t touching the guy now, but battle-ready tension

coursed through his body. “Told me flat out that you’d hired him to take out the Ward family. Only
Elizabeth wasn’t in the car that night, so she got away. Escaped your whole little payback revenge
scenario, didn’t she?”

Luther glanced toward the door. “You think I’m gonna talk to you? Give you any more ammo to use

against me?”

“You’re in here for the next ninety-nine years,” Victor told him with a hard laugh. “With no hope of

parole. I don’t need ammo. You’re not going any place, except to hell.”

But Luther just smirked at him. “You want me to do you a favor, so don’t come talking to me about

hell.” Luther leaned forward, his eyes turning to slits. “I’ve been in hell ever since they locked me
up.”

“I can get you out of solitaire.” Maybe. He was totally bullshitting there. The warden hadn’t

wanted to let Victor in to see Luther, and he’d already had to call in some favors just to get this one-
on-one chat going.

“I like solitaire. Gives me time to think without worrying about dumb jerks being next to me.”

Luther stared back at him. “So come up with some other shit.”

Dammit. “Why the hell does she even matter? You killed her mother, her father—she has nothing

left! Just let her go.”

Something flickered in Luther’s eyes. He didn’t smile. In fact, his lips seemed to thin. “This is

personal for you.”

He’d screwed up. Victor knew it and tried to back-track, fast. “None of the cases are personal. It’s

all about doing a job.”

“There are so many dirty FBI agents these day,” Luther said with a sad shake of his head. “Why is

it so hard to find one honest man?”

“I’m not dirty.” He’d never been on the take. Never would be. His father had betrayed everyone

that he met. Victor had gotten tired of the guy’s broken promises long before his dad had cut out on
him. And he’d sworn to never be like that SOB.

“You’ve got killers in your midst, Mr. FBI Agent. They’re right under your nose, and you don’t

even know it.”

He forced his jaw to unclench “Gary Warren is—”
“A dead man,” Luther dismissed. “I don’t worry about the dead.”
Only Gary wasn’t dead. Not yet. He was locked up in Miami, in a solitaire of his own. He hadn’t

talked to anyone yet, but he would. Victor would make certain of it.

“It’s the living that matter,” Luther said with a curt nod. “You understand that, don’t you?”
“Call off the hit,” he ordered. “Let Elizabeth live.”
“Personal…it’s obviously so personal.” Luther studied him with a critical eye. “Are you fucking

Elizabeth Ward?”

Victor locked his back teeth. Show no emotion. “Tell me what you want.” Because he’d seen

Saxon’s  eyes,  when  Elizabeth  started  crying  in  that  interrogation  room.  How  the  mighty  fall. Over
the years, Saxon had put his life on the line again and again for Victor.  Victor knew he owed Saxon,
far more than he could ever repay. But I have to try.

“I want a favor.” Luther’s gaze dropped to Victor’s ID and his FBI badge. “Not from the FBI

though, because you can’t trust those traitorous bastards.” His gaze rose. “I want a favor from you. A
personal favor.”

“I’m not a dirty agent—”
“You even get to play the hero. How’s that for win-win?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”
“There’s a woman who has been…taken. Her name is Zoe Peters. I need you to find Zoe, and I

need you to keep her safe for me.”

What? Victor shook his head.
“When I know Zoe is alive, if there is a hit on Elizabeth Ward, then I’ll see what I can do to get it

canceled.” Luther shrugged. “That is a deal that doesn’t leave this room, you understand? You find
Zoe, you bring me proof of life…then that hit will be canceled.”

This was insane. “And where is this Zoe supposed to be?”
“You’re the fancy FBI agent…figure it out.” Luther lunged to his feet, sending his chair crashing

behind him. Luther stalked to the door, his shackles barely seeming to slow him as he called out,
“Guard, guard! I’m done here!”

But before the guard could open the door, Victor grabbed his arm. “When I find her, you swear to

me that Elizabeth Ward will be safe.”

Luther nodded. “I told you, if a hit is on her, it’ll be canceled.”
The guy was so careful with his words, If. There was no if.
The guard came and took Luther away. Victor stood in that room, his hands fisted at his sides. Zoe

Peters. Who the hell was Zoe Peters?

And where was she?

***

She could still feel him inside of her. Elizabeth made absolutely sure not to stumble as she

followed the tour group into a large tasting room.  For a second, she actually lost her breath when she
entered  that  place. Gorgeous. There  was  no  other  word  for  the  place.  Arched  stone  covered  the
ceiling,  giving  the  spacious  room  a  feel  almost  like—like  a  castle.    The  wooden  floor  gleamed
beneath her feet and long bars—also made of that same, gleaming wood, lined the walls of the tasting
room.    Wine  bottles  were  stacked  everywhere.  So  much  wine! And  gleaming  chandeliers  cast  light
down  on  the  assembled  group.    There  were  even  small  candles  positioned  all  around  the  room—
candles that threw off a softer, more romantic light.

Saxon was up ahead. Looking perfect and polished, and totally not at all like he’d just had sex with

a woman on his desk not an hour before.

He was her boss now? Her boss? And her protector? She felt as if she’d been sucked down some

kind of rabbit hole. She was thrilled and terrified and she wanted all of those other people to vanish
so that she could get Saxon alone again.

And maybe jump him.
“Hi, there…” The voice was close, male, deep, and had her turning her head to see a dark-haired

man smiling at her. “I don’t think we met before. I’m Sloan Quest. I think you and I are scheduled to
partner up on the winery’s PR team.”

Yes, yes, right. She’d heard his name mentioned when the tour began. Only she’d been trying to

calm her heartbeat, steady her breathing, and not look like she’d just had wild sex.

He offered his hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethany.” His gaze swept over her, and

that stare of his seemed to linger a bit too long on her breasts.

She took his hand and forced a smile. “I’m excited to be here.” Now look up.
Thankfully, he did. But she didn’t like the assessing light in his eyes. “Laurent Vineyards has the

potential to be absolutely phenomenal,” Sloan said with a nod. “Michael bought the place at just the
right time—the name change for the place went through without a hitch, and he’s poised to be a major
force in the area.”

A major force? Two weeks ago, he’d nearly killed a man in Miami. Now he—he was completely

different.

Michael Laurent was in front of the room, giving a speech about profits and expansion plans, and

he was making her head ache. This couldn’t be her Saxon. Not rough and ready Saxon.

Was it?
He is so good at becoming someone else. Even his accent was slightly different as he talked to the

group. Clearer, sharper. This isn’t the guy from the streets.

With an extreme effort, Elizabeth kept a polite smile on her face. “How long have you known

Michael?”

“About a year,” Sloan told her.
Her jaw nearly hit the floor. It wasn’t possible that he’d known Saxon—Michael—for that long.

Saxon had been undercover. He’d been working in Florida—

“Most of his business dealings were conducted via long distance because he was out of the

country, but the man knew exactly what he wanted done with this place.” Sloan shrugged. “I got the
impression that when there is something the man wants, he takes it. Nothing stops him.”

She tried to carefully tug her hand free of Sloan’s grip, but his fingers tightened around hers.
“I’m a lot like him,” Sloan murmured and the guy actually paused to lick his lips as his gaze swept

over her once more. “When I see something…someone…I want, I take her.”

Laughter spilled from her. She just couldn’t help it. “You’re nothing like him.” If this guy tried to

live Saxon’s undercover life, he wouldn’t survive the day. “And I’m not interested.” Then she
yanked her hand away from Sloan. Screw playing it polite. The guy’s eyes were eating her alive.

Her gaze slid to Saxon. He’d finished talking to the group and he was staring straight at her. Or

rather, at her and Sloan.

Oh, jeez. This wasn’t—
“I would like to formally introduce everyone to my right-hand lady, Bethany Meadows.” His voice

seemed to flow around her. “Bethany and I have worked together for years, and I knew that I wouldn’t
turn this place into the vineyard of my dreams without her.”

Surprise rocked through her at his confession.
Everyone was glancing her way now.
Vanessa, Saxon’s assistant, was staring at her, too. Only there was a sort of understanding in the

other woman’s eyes, as if she’d just made a discovery. Our little romp in the office makes more
sense if we’ve been lovers for a while, huh? In that moment, she could practically read Vanessa’s
thoughts.

“Bethany…” Saxon beckoned to her, opening his hand.
She headed toward him. She made sure to take slow, careful steps in her heels. The last thing she

wanted to do was take a header in front of all those people.

His fingers curled around hers. His lips tilted just a bit.
Once, she’d thought he was so far removed from her world. Too dangerous. But staring at him right

then, the suave businessman before her…

I’m not sure I fit into his world at all.
Saxon was a man who could literally become anyone in the blink of an eye.
And if he could be anyone, then did she really know him at all?
More staff members—a group all wearing white—bustled out. They held delicate glasses and

bottles of wine. Laurent Wine.

This wasn’t just some cover story. This was a whole life that Saxon had obviously planned for

himself, for a long time. A life that he’d brought her into.

His hold tightened on her. “Time to celebrate,” he murmured. Then he inclined his head. “Drinks

all around!”

The wine started flowing. Soon, everyone present had a glass, and Saxon still held her hand.
She glanced over at Sloan. His gaze was on her, and it was assessing. Behind him, Vanessa was

smiling.

With his left hand, Saxon lifted his glass. “To the future,” he said.
Elizabeth lifted her hand and the wine glass she’d been given.
“To the future,” the others all repeated, smiling.
Elizabeth thought she was the only one who heard Saxon whisper, “May it be nothing like the

fucking past.”

They drank the wine.
And the tension she felt got even worse.

***

Elizabeth was too nervous around him.
Considering the way their last meeting had gone, that nervousness wasn’t particularly surprising.
Note to self…try not to jump her the next time you’re alone.

He walked toward the windows that overlooked his sprawling property and his gaze assessed the

countryside in front of him. This place was so damn fantastic.

I won’t ever be in the streets again. This place will be my paradise. I’ll be safe here. Elizabeth

will be safe here.

It was a fresh start, for them both.
His phone rang. He pulled it out and recognized the number on the screen. He was alone in his

office, so Saxon knew it was safe to take the call. “Tell me she’s clear,” he said.

“Working on it,” Victor replied, voice grim. “I need a little more time.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The door to his office was still shut. “You talked to Luther.”
As far as Saxon was concerned, it would be easier to just kill Luther Bates and move the hell on,

but Victor hadn’t been sure the hit on Elizabeth would actually be canceled by the guy’s death. Not if
the money for the job was being held in an account someplace.

“He’s offered me a deal. I just need a little more time, and your lady will be cleared.”
Your lady. Yes, Saxon thought of Elizabeth as his now. Was that wrong? He’d bled for her, been

ready to kill for her…and, after all the dark years he’d spent undercover, didn’t he deserve a chance
to have something?  Someone?   Elizabeth stirred emotion to life within him.   She made him wonder
what  it  would  be  like  to  have  a  wife,  a  partner  in  life.  He  wasn’t  going  to  just  let  some  bastard
destroy her.  “I think we should have gone with my method.”

“You can’t just walk into a federal prison and kill a man!”
Saxon sighed. “Didn’t Luther just kill a man in there? Some unlucky bastard named Titus Rowe?”

He’d read about that, when he’d been digging into Luther’s life and trying to find anything that they
could use against the guy in order to force him to back away from Elizabeth and cancel that hit.

“He killed him, and I think I know why.” Victor’s words came a bit faster. “There’s a woman

missing, her name is Zoe Peters, and, from what I can tell, she vanished the day before Luther took the
shiv to Titus Rowe’s throat.”

His fingers tightened around the phone.
“Luther said if I find the woman, if I bring him proof of life, then he’ll call off the hit on Elizabeth.”
“And you believe him?” Saxon was calling BS. “Vic, you can’t trust a guy like him. You know

that.”

“I know I don’t have a lot of options, and I know that I am doing this. You’ve been through hell for

me over the years. Now it’s my turn to pay you back.”

Victor didn’t get it. Saxon had done all of that undercover work because Vic was family—a link

that went deeper than blood ever could. He’d wanted to protect his family. “If you need me, I’m
there.”

“No.” Vic’s denial was immediate. “You’re out, you’re safe with that shiny new life of yours. A

life that includes Elizabeth now. Keep her safe, and I’ll cover this end.” Static crackled over the line.
“I will find Zoe Peters.”

Saxon knew that Victor tried to never make a promise that he couldn’t keep.
The line went dead. For a moment, Saxon didn’t move. He stared out at the land before him. The

sun was setting, the sky a mix of red and gold. The scene looked like something out of a fancy
painting.

And it’s all mine.
He’d saved every penny over the years and sank a fortune into this place. That fortune had come to

him  the  hard  way.  He  hadn’t  just  worked  for  the  FBI  in  the  last  fifteen  years.    He’d  risked  his  life
more  times  than  he  could  count,  and  when  you  were  dealing  in  life  or  death  situations,  the  pay-out
could  be  serious.  So  he’d  taken  that  pay-out,  then  doubled, tripled  his  money  during  his  days  in
Vegas.  And  when  the  vineyard  had  come  open,  when  he’d  realized  what  he  could  do  with  a  little
winery out here…

A slice of heaven, after hell.
He’d wanted this place for so long.
Saxon turned and strode for the door.
But now he actually wanted something—someone else—more.
When he opened the door, he saw that Vanessa was collecting her bag and preparing to leave for

the day. She paused when she saw him.

“Mr. Laurent?”
Another fake name. Maybe one day, he’d get used to it. “I’m looking for Ms. Meadows,” he said.
Vanessa’s eyes widened and she smiled a little. “She’s in the tasting room.”
He immediately turned toward the left. “Thank you.”
“I, um, didn’t realize that the two of you were…an item.”
Saxon stilled.
“Oh, gosh, that was too personal, wasn’t it?” Vanessa blurted. “I crossed a line, I’m so sorry.

Sometimes, I just don’t think before I—”

He glanced back at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” We’re definitely an item.
Her tremulous smile came again. “Th-thank you.”
After giving her a little nod, he strode down the hallway. He hadn’t confirmed or denied that he

was involved with Elizabeth. He was trying to play the gentleman for her, and yelling to everyone that
they were lovers—well, that probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly move ever.

And it had sure as shit been hard to keep up that gentlemanly front when Sloan Quest had been

edging so close to Elizabeth. Sure, the guy knew PR and he was an expert when it came to the wine
business, but Saxon had wanted to shove the man across the room.

Saxon reached the tasting room. He paused a moment and took in a deep breath. Don’t jump the

woman. Keep some control.

He pushed open the door.
Wood gleamed all around the tasting room. Heavy, tall wine racks. Small, sputtering candles set

the scene. He’d ordered those candles, earlier, when he’d wanted to toast with his new staff.

Staff. I have fucking staff now.
Elizabeth was at the bar. She turned toward him.
I have everything now.
He stared at her a moment, lost in the sight of her. Did she even know all the strings Victor had

pulled so that Elizabeth wound up there—with me?

Everything had been set up, everything manipulated so that he could be with her. To protect her,

hell, yes. But…more.

“M-Michael?”
His new name. One that he didn’t want to hear from her. He shook his head and very deliberately

shut the door behind him. “It’s just us.”

Her back pressed to the bar. His gaze swept over her, from those sexy shoes up to the silken

expanse of her legs, then up, up to the curving breasts that thrust toward him. His gaze finally settled
on her face.

The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And if she knew all the things he’d done, she’d probably run screaming from him.
I can’t ever let that happen.
He took a step toward her. “When we’re alone, call me Saxon.” Because he liked the way his

name sounded when it came from her.

He took another step toward her.
Elizabeth seemed to tense. “What if someone comes in?”
“Then I might fucking fire them.” Because he needed to get his hands on her. She had no clue how

bad the last two weeks had been for him. The doctors hadn’t cleared him to travel at first—he’d had
to wait and stay away from her for too long.

“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth whispered, shaking her head.
Oh, but he would.
He stopped when he was right in front of her. His hand lifted and brushed back the locks of her

hair that had slipped over her cheek, then his fingers slid under that soft curtain of her mane as he
tilted her head back. “I need a taste…”

Not of wine. Of her.
Her lips parted and his mouth closed over hers. This kiss wasn’t frantic. Wasn’t wild. Because he

was trying to show her that he could be more. So much more. For her.

He licked her lower lip, then his tongue thrust inside of her mouth. She gave that little moan—yes

—and she arched toward him.

But he still kept the kiss controlled. Sensual, but not desperate. He savored her. He caressed her.

Even when his erect cock shoved at the front of his pants, his hold on her was light—just his hand,
holding her through the curtain of her hair.

He kissed her. He licked.
And he wanted so much more.
That was why he finally stopped. His head lifted so that he could gaze down at her.
Elizabeth’s eyes blinked open.
“You taste better than the wine.”
Her tongue slipped out and swept over her lips. “So do you.”
She did not play fair.
“Let me take you home,” he said. Because if he didn’t. He just might wind up fucking her there.

Right in that shiny new tasting room. He’d had the place remodeled when he took over, and it had
turned out just as he’d hoped.

I can have everything I want now. Provided, that Elizabeth stayed safe.
Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you offering to take me home…as my lover? Or as my FBI guard?”

“I’m doing it as both.” Because that was what he was. Guard and lover.
“We’re safe here,” she said. It almost sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of that. “In

this perfect place you’ve made, we’re safe, right?”

“With me, I promise, you’ll always be safe.”
Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I believe that, you know.”
Because she trusted him so completely.
“But you can’t take me home, I came in my own car.” Her smile stretched and tempted him to

smile back at her.

So he did. “In that case, I’ll follow you.”
She nodded.
I’ll follow you any damn place.

***

Victor strode out of the prison. As soon as she saw him, Tracy hurried forward. “Sir?” Tracy

called. “How did it go?”

She’d been cleared—after the FBI had ripped her life apart. They hadn’t turned up any sign that

she’d been working with Gary. No bank transactions, no unaccounted absences, no whispers of
impropriety at all.

But we thought Gary was clear, too.
Victor’s bosses had insisted he put Tracy back in circulation, provided, of course, that he kept one

very close eye on her.

“It’s going,” he said simply. He didn’t want to tell her about Zoe Peters. He wasn’t going to tell

anyone but Saxon about that woman. Because Saxon is the only one that I trust one hundred percent.

“A call came in while you were inside,” Tracy told him, the words a little breathless, as if she

were nervous. “Gary Warren wants to talk with you.”

Wait, now the guy wanted to talk? Before Victor had left Miami, the guy had still been giving the

old silent treatment to everyone. How was that for shit timing?

“So we’re going back down to Florida now?” Tracy asked.
“Not yet.” He marched toward their car. Tracy hurried to keep up with him. “Gary can damn well

wait for me.”

“But—”
“I have other business to tend to first.”
He climbed into the car. Tracy started to follow him. “No,” he said flatly. “I called you a cab.”
Her body stiffened. “We’re working together—”
“Not right now, we’re not.” So much for what his bosses wanted. He had to complete this job on

his own. For Saxon. “Go back down to Miami. I’ll be there soon enough.” He slammed his door, but
Tracy jerked it right back open.

“You don’t trust me!”
He stared up at her.
“I freaking bled for the FBI to prove that I was legit. I told you every secret I had. No matter how

humiliating. I told you everything!”

“We don’t get to have secrets in the FBI. That’s not a luxury we have—”
“Liar!” She snapped. “You have your secrets. You’ve going off on one of those secret missions

right now.” Her breath heaved out. “Maybe there is a traitor in the FBI. Maybe I’m looking right at
him.”

Her sharp words propelled him right out of the car as he faced off against her.
She backed up.
He advanced. “You don’t want to push me, Tracy.”
He heard the rasp of her breath.
“You really fucking don’t.” Lights flashed, and he turned to see the ordered taxi arriving. “Get in

the taxi, then get on a plane and head back to Miami. If Gary is in the mood to talk, you make sure he
stays that way, got it?”

“Got it,” she gritted out.
He nodded, then got back in the car. For a minute there, he’d seen red. He’d never been accused of

being a traitor before, and Victor sure didn’t like it.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Tracy murmured.
He paused, with his hand on the car door.
“When people close to you don’t trust you anymore.”
His gaze sharpened on her.
“See you in Miami,” she muttered.
He slammed the door. Drove away a little too fast.
And didn’t look back.

***

Tracy Adams watched Victor’s tail-lights vanish. That jerk was cutting her out of the case. He

didn’t trust her. Sure, she had supposedly been cleared by the FBI, but if her direct supervisor was
keeping case secrets from her…

Then no one at the Bureau will ever really trust me again.
She’d find herself demoted. Cut out of all the good cases. Cast aside.
That couldn’t happen.
“Hey, lady!” The taxi driver shouted. “Did you call for a ride?”
Ignoring him, Tracy turned back toward the prison. Victor and his secrets…she was about to

discover them. Because she would not lose everything that she’d worked so hard to gain all these
years.

No way.
“Lady!” The taxi driver tried once more.
“Screw off,” she tossed back.

Chapter Twelve

Saxon walked Elizabeth to the door of her cottage. He knew the place was equipped with a state of

the art alarm system—after all, he’d had Victor install the system. But he still hesitated at her door.
“Why don’t you let me go inside first?” Saxon asked her. “Just to make sure everything is safe?”

“Is that why you wanted to see me home? More guard duty?”
He shook his head. “I told you…the lover and the guard are the same.” He took the keys from her.

Disengaged the lock. Her security system was beeping and he put in the access code.

“You know my code, too?” There was a sharp note in her voice, one that told him he’d just

screwed up.

“Protocol,” he told her without looking back. He was busy scanning her cottage right then. “In case

of an emergency, Victor had to be sure I knew it.”

He made his way through the little cottage, searching swiftly but thoroughly, going in all the rooms,

stopping only in—

Her bedroom.
Damn, but the place already smelled just like her. Sweet and sexy. His gaze strayed to the bed. A

four-poster. What he’d like to do to her in that bed…

“Is it clear?”
Her voice was close.
He turned toward her. “Clear.” But he didn’t move out of that bedroom. He wanted to stay right

there, to fuck her all night long.

Forever.
I have it so damn bad.
Elizabeth was in the doorway, watching him carefully. “Who are you?”
“What?”
“Are you the man I met in Miami, the guy who could kill as easily as he could kiss?”
He stiffened.
“Or are you the poised businessman I met today? The guy who had me naked in his office within

five minutes?”

“Elizabeth—”
“You’ve been a dozen men, haven’t you? Over the years…all those undercover jobs.”
Yes, he had been.
“Who is the real Saxon? What’s that man like?”
He was just like the guy…who could kill as easily as he could kiss.
“It’s so extreme. Miami to…to this place.” She took a step forward. “Victor told me that you were

dead to me. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, and now—now you’re right in front of me, but I
feel like I don’t know you at all.”

He had to be careful here. There was fear in her gaze, and he hated that. “You know me better than

most people do.”

“Really? Because I don’t know your favorite color. I don’t know your favorite food. I don’t know

your family. I don’t feel like I know anything…but how you kiss and how you fight and how you

fuck.”

Anger hummed in his blood. He stalked toward her, stopping only when they were bare inches

apart. “You’re asking about things that don’t matter.”

“I need to know you. I need to know that I’m not being crazy to trust you so much because…I-I do

trust you. In this whole insanely messed-up world that I’m living in now, you’re the one man that I
trust completely.”

And he knew exactly how precious the gift of her trust was. “Blue. Sushi.”
A furrow appeared between her brows. “What?”
“My favorite color is blue, and my favorite food is sushi.”
Now her eyes widened.
“The only family I have left…that would be Victor and a woman you haven’t met.” Not yet. If he

had his way, though, they would. One day soon. “Her name’s Jasmine, and she’s the closest thing to a
sister that I’ve ever had. I mentioned her to you before.”

She kept staring at him. What did the woman want? For him to bare his soul?
For her, I will.
“I met Jasmine and Vic when I was a teenager.” He lifted his right hand and stared at the line of

scars  across  his  knuckles.  “I  was  a  fighter,  so  was  Vic.  Any  battle,  any  place,  as  long  as  we  got
paid.”  There  hadn’t  exactly  been  a  lot  of  employment  options  for  him  back  then.  But  he’d  been  big
and strong and the wrong kind of people had been interested in watching him beat the living hell out
of others.  “One day, I fought Vic. The bastard was as strong as I was. When it was over, we were
both  so  bloody  and  broken  we  could  barely  move.  Everyone  else  just  walked  away  from  us…
everyone but Jasmine.”

Her hand lifted and caught his. She brought his scarred knuckles to her mouth and pressed a gentle

kiss to them.  Saxon inhaled sharply, but he continued, “It became the three of us against the world.
We stayed together, through thick and thin.  Through so much darkness.  Victor is the one who wanted
to  join  the  FBI.  I’d  had  his  back  for  years,  so  I  followed  him.”  And  he’d  kept  doing  the  job,  one
bloody day at a time until… “Then I realized I wanted something for myself. Jasmine—she married a
lucky  bastard  from  Vegas.    He  helped  set  the  deal  for  the  winery.”  Now  his  lips  curled.  “The  guy
would do anything for her.” Even nearly die. But that was another story. “And I knew that place was
going to be my ticket out.”

“But you’re risking that ticket, for me. What if someone tracks me here, what if they find you, what

if—”

“I can handle anything that comes my way.” Only that wasn’t exactly true. He couldn’t handle her.

She made him feel off-balance and uncertain. And he wanted her too much. “This is our chance for
a normal life, Elizabeth. Yours and mine. No one knows about our pasts here. We’re safe.” They
could be just like every other person out there. They could actually have a shot at happiness.

If she’d just take a chance on him.
He stepped closer, closing that final distance between them. “Keep trusting me,” he told her.

“Always, no matter what. Because I swear, I will never betray you. Not for anything or anyone.” She
could count on him.

“Why?”
He frowned down at her even as his left hand curled under her chin.

“Why have you done all of this for me? Why are you still doing so much?”
“Because I want you.”
Her breath whispered out. “It has to be about more than desire. I’m sure you’ve wanted plenty of

women.”

“I have.” He wouldn’t lie to her. “But I didn’t think about them every minute of every day. I didn’t

dream about them.”

Her gaze searched his.
“You’re in my blood, sweetheart, and I can’t get you out. I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted

anything.” Even the new life he’d worked to get.

“Saxon…”
His cock jerked. “I like the way you say my name.” Soft and husky, with an edge of desire. His

head lowered toward hers and he kissed her, a light press of his mouth at first, but when her lips
parted, his tongue swept inside, claiming her. Deeper, harder, he kissed her as the need he felt for her
raged ever hotter within him.

The bed was right behind him. He could have her on that bed, have her naked and spread beneath

him, in about five seconds flat.

He started to lift her into his arms.
Elizabeth pulled her mouth from his. “No.”
The drumbeat of his heart seemed to echo in his ears. Lust surged through him, his cock ached and

she was telling him—

“This time, we’re doing this my way.” She slid away from him. “Do you trust me?”
He blinked at her. He trusted Vic. He trusted Jasmine. He—
“I trust you,” Elizabeth said. “Now it’s your turn to trust me.”
Then her hands went to his belt and her knees hit the floor before him.
The surge of desire that hit him then was so strong that Saxon almost felt light-headed. “Sweetheart,

no, you don’t—”

She had the belt unhooked. She unsnapped his pants, slid down the zipper, and then she had his

straining cock in her hands. Soft, silken hands that caressed him and pumped his flesh, making him
grit his teeth and lock down all of the muscles in his body.

Because I want in her. I want to make her scream when she comes for me.
I want to come in her. Want to prove she’s mine. Always mine. Forever.
But he didn’t move. He waited, for her.
Elizabeth stared up at him. Elizabeth on her knees before him—her eyes tinted with desire and her

cheeks flushed as she leaned toward him—that was probably the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Then her lips touched him and his eyes squeezed shut. Fuck.
Her hands were still around him, pumping his flesh. Bringing his desire to a feverish intensity, but

her mouth—oh, hell, yes, her mouth had closed around the tip of his cock. A wet, hot heaven as she
sucked him. Her name broke from him as a frenzied growl when Elizabeth took him in even deeper,
moving her head now in a rhythm designed to absolutely shred his control.

His hands were on her shoulders. Holding her far too tightly. He forced his eyes open because he

wanted to see her, and, hell, yes, she was even sexier now. Moving with sensuality as she licked and

caressed and—

I can’t take anymore.
He lifted her up.
“Saxon, no, I wasn’t finished—”
He put her on the bed. When she reached out for him again, he managed to bark, “Don’t.”
She froze.
Only a thin sliver of his control remained.
He stripped while her eyes stayed on him. Such deep, green eyes. The first time he’d seen her

eyes, he’d known then that—

“Oh, Saxon.”
His shirt had hit the floor. Her gaze took in the wounds that were now fresh scars.
She moved to the edge of the bed. Her fingers were trembling when she reached out to touch one of

the long, red scars. “You nearly died because of me.”

For you. There was a difference, but he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear that yet. “Protecting you

was my job.”

There were tears in her eyes. Tears. He didn’t like to see her beautiful eyes filled with tears. He

wanted to see the desire again. The need for him. Not tears.

“We should be careful,” she whispered, “We should—”
His lips took hers, and he wasn’t careful. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t controlled. He had the one

thing he wanted most, and he wasn’t about to let go.

Or waste a moment being careful.
He tumbled her back on the bed. Caught her hands in one of his and pinned them above her head.

Then his free hand went down and pushed up her skirt. All day, he’d known that she wasn’t wearing
panties. Those torn panties had been safely secured in his drawer, and she’d been bare.

He touched her silken flesh now. Pushed his fingers into her sex even as he kissed her. She was

wet for him. Wet and ready and there was no going back for him.

“Don’t move,” Saxon ordered her.
Her breath seemed to catch.
He lifted up, and he didn’t bother unbuttoning her shirt—he just yanked it open. Buttons flew, and

he didn’t care. He’d buy her another blouse, maybe one that matched her ripped panties. An emerald
color to go with her eyes? Buy her anything. Everything.

The sexy black bra she wore was pure temptation. It lifted her breasts up toward him, an offering

that he’d never refuse. He kissed her through that lace, then he shoved the bra out of his way and took
her nipple into his mouth.

“Saxon!”
He sucked her harder. Scored her with his teeth.
And he parted her legs. He positioned his cock at the entrance of her body. She was so incredibly

soft and hot and when he thrust into her, Saxon nearly lost his mind.

He angled his body down, making sure that every thrust of his hips pushed him against her clit. She

moaned for him and twisted beneath him. Saxon licked her other breast. Her nipple was tight and
hard. So very perfect.

He withdrew. Thrust deeper.
He had her underneath him in that four-poster bed. He was in her so deep and her sex was a tight

glove. She was whispering his name, her nails were digging in his back.

There were no fears. No hesitations. No questions.
Just a white-hot desire that burned right through everything else.
She came for him. He felt the ripples of her release all around his cock even as she arched up

against him and gasped out his name.

Then he let go. He drove into her again and again. The bed thudded into the wall, the frame

seemed to shake beneath them, and he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck about anything—

But, well, fucking her.
Deeper, harder. The desire consumed him. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t slow down. He could only

feel her and when the climax hit him, Saxon was lost. The pleasure beat through him, so powerful and
consuming that nothing else mattered. He held on to her as tightly as he could.

And when the pleasure finally ebbed, when the aftershocks stopped running through their bodies, he

finished stripping. He tucked her under the covers and then slid in the bed beside her.

He’d slept in countless hotels, dozens of apartments, hell, he’d even slept on the street—both

before and during his undercover days.

But as his eyes drifted closed right then, as Elizabeth curled her body around his, this time—this

bed—this place—it was the first time that he’d ever felt as if he were sleeping…at home.

***

Victor had spent years cultivating contacts—some on the right side of the law and some on the

wrong. So when he needed intel on a dead prisoner, he got that intel. And when he needed to learn
more about a missing woman…he had full access to her records.

So just hours after he left the prison, he knew that Zoe Peters was a twenty-seven-year-old, ex-

Vegas showgirl who’d packed up all her belongings and moved to a little town in South Carolina—a
place called Bluff. Only a few weeks after moving to the town, she’d vanished.

And a day later, well, that was the day that Titus Rowe had been killed by Luther Bates. Shanked in

the shower—not a particularly glamorous way to go, but one that had surely involved plenty of gore.
From all accounts, Luther had nearly severed the man’s head.

For Luther to make such a personal move, to kill with plenty of witnesses around—well,

obviously, he’d wanted to send a message.

A message that was linked to Rowe?
Because, once upon a time, Rowe and Luther Bates had worked together. Rowe set up a few

explosions for Luther. Rowe had a dark and dangerous skill when it came to bomb-making, and,
apparently, he’d been all too eager to make buildings explode for the right money.

Victor’s detective work had revealed that Rowe had one child, a son who owned property just

outside of Charleston, South Carolina. Now, as fate would have it, Charleston and Bluff were only
two hours away from each other.

Coincidence?
Hell, no. Victor sure didn’t think so.

And that was why he was currently headed to Charleston…hopefully to find Rowe’s son Hugh and

to recover the missing show girl.

Then maybe, finally, he could get some fucking peace. I’ll have peace, once that hit is off

Elizabeth’s head.

***

Gary Warren sat hunched in the interrogation room chair. He still hurt, dammit, and he could sure

have used more drugs from those docs.  But instead of getting some sweet oblivion from pain meds,
they had him stuck in this place.   Those bastards were just keeping him waiting.  He’d demanded to
see Victor so long ago—hours ago! And the prick hadn’t shown.  This shit wasn’t going to work for
him.

And neither is jail. I can’t spend my days locked in solitaire. And I sure as hell don’t plan to be

in general population.

So Victor needed to get his sorry ass in there and start working a deal.
The door opened.
Gary looked up, glaring. “Finally!” he snarled.
Tracy smiled at him.
He stiffened. “Where’s Victor?”
Tracy shut the door. Leaned back against it. “He didn’t tell me where he was going. The guy just

left me at a prison and took off for who the hell knows where.” She shook her head. “You know
Victor. He’s not exactly the sharing type. Not so trusting, you know.” One eyebrow lifted. “Probably
because guys like you keep betraying him.”

Now that Tracy was there, he figured folks must be in the next room, too, watching through that

one-way mirror on the wall to the left. He leaned back in the chair and kept his eyes on her.

Tracy didn’t move from the door. “Don’t you want to know who he was visiting at that prison?

After all, that is the job he felt was more important. He didn’t come rushing back to see you. I’m the
one who flew back down. He was more concerned with what the inmate up there had told him.”

His fingers drummed on the table. Tracy wouldn’t have the pull to get him a deal. The woman was

pretty, a nice piece of ass, and smart. He’d admired her while they worked together. But she didn’t
have power right now. I still have power. Power he intended to leverage. If the FBI wanted him to
talk, then they’d better get ready to deal.

“He was there to see Luther Bates.”
Gary tensed. Yeah, he’d admit it, he was still afraid of Luther…even though the guy was in prison.
“Bates killed a man recently. Took out another inmate in the shower.” She shrugged. “So much for

his chance at parole.”

Gary had to laugh. “You know better than that.” The right money could make any witness disappear

and witnesses in prison were particularly expendable.

Her gaze slid toward the mirror on the left. The one-way mirror. “I went into the prison and talked

to Bates, too.”

Sweat slickened his palms so he flattened them on the table. “Did you now?” He knew better than

to show any fear.

“He told me…that you were a dead man.”
Not yet.
She walked toward him. He saw that she had her weapon holstered on her hip. His gaze rose from

that weapon back up to her face.

“You’re going to leave solitaire when you go back to the prison,” Tracy said softly. “You…know

that, right? It’s general population time for you. And Bates will have someone waiting there to take
you out. Because you didn’t do your job. Not two years ago, and not now.”

“I’m not that easy to eliminate.” Shit, he needed Vic there. So he’d shot up Saxon, what was the

big fucking deal? Saxon was expendable—just muscle they used to infiltrate gangs.

Disposable.
She was near the table. Staring down at him.
“Victor thinks he can get the hit called off Elizabeth Ward. He worked out some kind of deal with

Bates—Bates is actually going to back off, provided Victor carries things through.”

No. Shit, no. Bates was supposed to have his back. He’d risked everything for that bastard.

Risked it all…for the payout that wouldn’t be coming.

His laughter was bitter. “She didn’t remember me, did she?”
Tracy’s expression didn’t alter.
“I was so worried Elizabeth Ward would remember meeting me, but she didn’t.” His brows lifted

as he gazed up at Tracy. “I went to her parents’ house, I talked to her. That was the way I handled
things back then. I got the lay of the land by pretending to be from a security firm.”

Now Tracy was the one to laugh. “That was two years ago! Are you seriously telling me you

thought a witness would remember your face from that long ago?” She shook her head. “You know
most witnesses can’t ever remember shit.”

No, most couldn’t. Five minutes after they’d met someone, they forgot the person’s face. But there

were certain people who were more observant, who actually did recall—

“How much were you being paid? Because I don’t buy this crap about you going after her because

you thought she might remember a five minute meeting from two freaking years ago.”

Ah, Tracy. She was always rather good at cutting to the heart of the matter. “When the three Wards

are dead, Bates will pay the million dollar bounty.”

Understanding lit her gaze. “It was an all or nothing deal, huh? Guess you got screwed on it.”
“If Victor and Saxon hadn’t fought to keep her alive—” He broke off. If those two jerks hadn’t been

in his way, Elizabeth would be dead. And he’d be rich.

“You made a mistake,” Tracy said softly as she leaned toward him. “You thought you could take

down Victor and Saxon, but you weren’t strong enough to handle them. And now that Victor talked to
Bates, I’m sure he’s learned plenty about you.”

Rage and fear poured through him. Bates had sent him out on plenty of kills. But if Bates thought he

was going to turn on Gary…Think again! Bates wasn’t going to betray him. I’ll betray you first! I
know all your secrets, too—and, bastard, I’ve already spilled some of them! Not to the Feds, but to
others who’d been willing to pay a premium price…

Like to a man out for his own revenge, a man named Titus Rowe. Both Titus and the guy’s son—

Hugh—they were more than eager to collect their pound of flesh. A life for a life.

Every man had a weakness. And a price.
“I want to see Victor!” Gary demanded and his fisted hands slammed onto the table. “You bring

him to me, right now!”

“Told you already,” she murmured. “He’s not here. He sent me back to keep an eye on you.” Her

gaze drifted over him. Her voice was a mocking whisper as she said, “I guess a dead man isn’t really
his priority.”

His control snapped as the rage took over. After all of those years and everything he’d done, things

couldn’t end this way for him. “You bitch! I won’t let you do this to me!” He shot across the table, his
hands going right for her throat. They tumbled back, falling together when their bodies collided.

The bullets hit him before he and Tracy hit the floor. The bullets thudded into his chest and he

realized—she’d drawn her gun before he ever touched her.

His hands were still around her throat and his blood was pumping out.
The door flew open and banged against the wall. Footsteps thundered toward them.
He stared into Tracy’s eyes.
“See,” she whispered, her voice so low that only he could hear it. “I told you…you were a dead

man.”

Then he realized…She talked to Bates…she—
“One down,” she whispered. “One to go.”
Hard hands grabbed him and pulled him off her. He tried to speak, but he was just coughing up

blood.

“I-I didn’t have a choice,” Tracy said, her voice tumbling out with a high, desperate edge as the

other officers went to work on him. “He came at me. I-I didn’t have a choice!”

Pain pulsed through his chest. That lying, traitorous bitch.
He’d trained her too well.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m a really horrible cook,” Elizabeth said.
His eyes slowly opened.
She smiled, feeling her stomach twist in nervousness.
Then he smiled back at her. “Morning, baby.”
His voice was deep and rough and sexy enough to make her panties wet. The tray in her hands

trembled a bit and that made the silverware clatter.

He sat up, frowning, as his gaze immediately drifted to the tray she clutched so desperately.

“What’s that?”

Okay, so she’d already admitted her cooking wasn’t top notch, but the food wasn’t completely

unrecognizable. It should be pretty obvious that she was carrying—“Breakfast,” Elizabeth blurted.
“We need it before we, you know, head off to work.”

Like normal people. Because we’re normal now.
His gaze was still on the tray. On the slightly soggy eggs and the pancakes that weren’t circular but

were rather some unusual, not quite discernible shape.

“You cooked for me,” he said, still staring at the tray.
He should have actually taken the tray by that point. Since he hadn’t, she thrust it at him. “You’re

welcome.” Now she was starting to just feel foolish. She’d never before made breakfast for anyone.
But, jeez, when a guy nearly died for you, a girl had to express her appreciation some way.

He took the tray. Put it on his lap. And kept staring up at her like she was insane.
Right then, she had another memory. One that made her lips twitch a bit. “And to think,” she

murmured. “When we first met, you said I was the one who didn’t know how to say thank you.”

She started to turn away, but his hand flew out in a lightning-fast move and caught her wrist.

Elizabeth looked back at him.

“Thank you,” he said softly.
Heat stained her cheeks. “Like I said, you’re welcome.”
“No one…no one ever made me breakfast before.” He was staring at the tray of soggy eggs like

they were some kind of gourmet meal.

“Saxon…” Surely his mom had made him breakfast when he’d been little. But…as she stared at

him, she realized the guy was staring at the soggy eggs like they were some kind of precious gift.

He pulled her onto the bed. “You’re going to split it with me, right?” He took a bite of the eggs.

Those ridiculous, soggy eggs.

“Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll split it with you.”
He offered her a fork filled with eggs—eggs that were dripping off the utensil. She took it, opening

her mouth. And when he smiled at her, he didn’t look like the dangerous man she’d met in Miami.

He looks like the man I love.
She was in so much trouble.

***

Saxon had extra clothes in the trunk of his car, and he changed at Elizabeth’s cottage before they

headed out for the winery.

When they arrived, he hurried around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. As he

stood there, staring down at her, she remembered what it was like to ride through Miami with him on
the back of a motorcycle, holding on as tightly as she could.

She rose from the car and let her body brush against his. “Maybe it doesn’t matter if you’re the

fighter or the man in the suit.” Her hand pressed against his chest. “Maybe all that matters…is that it’s
you.” Then she rose onto her toes and kissed his lips.

His hands settled around her shoulders as he held her close.
She started to hope then. To think that everything was going to be okay. They’d escaped Miami and

the nightmare back there. They were together, and every time that Saxon touched her, she seemed to
light up from the inside.

He escorted her to her office. Gave her a wink before walking away.
She stared after him and she wondered—
“It’s that way, huh?”
Sloan’s voice came from the right. Her head jerked toward him, and she found him lounging in the

hallway, watching her.

“Figured it,” he added, lips twisting, “when he said that you two had been working together so

closely…for years.” Then he advanced toward her, his expression angry. “Is the fact that you’re
screwing the boss going to mean that I have to watch my job? Am I going to be hitting the street so
that you can take over?”

Once, words like that would have made her cringe. Now she just stared at him and shook her head.

“You should really be careful what you say.”

His frown deepened. “Why? You gonna run to the big boss and tell him—”
“You don’t want him to know what you’ve said. Trust me.” She turned away from him. “There are

worse things than losing a job.”

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around. “I’ve put blood and tears into this job! Your

lover didn’t know shit about the wine business until he hired me! Now that we’re operational and
ready to make a profit, don’t think that I’m just going to be shut out—”

“Take your hand off me.” Her voice was flat. Lethal. But after being held with a gun to her head,

this guy—this pompous ass—wasn’t scaring her. He was pissing her off.

His hand fell away.
“This isn’t your company. It’s his. He can fire you if he wants, and you be assured that if you ever

grab me or another employee again,” she bared her teeth in a hard smile, “your ass will be hitting the
curb.”

He blinked and actually backed up a step. Damn straight. After facing a hit man, no jerk was going

to intimidate her.

“Now I’ve got work to do.” She slammed her door in his face and marched back to her desk.

“Dick.”

***

Saxon’s body tensed as he watched Sloan spin on his heel and began to stride angrily away from

Elizabeth’s office. The guy had only taken two steps, though, when he staggered to a stop.

He stopped the moment he saw Saxon.
“I’d like a word with you,” Saxon murmured. “In my office.” He was rather impressed by how

calm his voice sounded. He turned and headed toward his office, not bothering to glance back and see
if the guy was following him.

The fucking jerk.
Saxon strode past the reception area, pausing just long enough to flash a reassuring smile at

Vanessa.

But as soon as he entered his office, his smile vanished. He turned on Sloan and the fury within

him boiled.

Sloan shut the door. The click seemed incredibly quiet.
“There are a few things that need to be cleared up,” Saxon told him. His fingers clenched into fists.
Sloan glanced down at Saxon’s fisted hands. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then he

looked up at Saxon’s face. “Wh-what’s that?” The guy’s voice broke.

“You’re expendable to me. If I want to bring in another wine expert, all I have to do is snap my

fingers.”

Sloan paled. “I didn’t mean—”
“To disrespect her? To piss me off? Because you did both, damn well.”
“I’m sorry.” His words tumbled out. “I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
No, it wouldn’t. Because Saxon wasn’t just giving a warning. “Get your shit and get out.”
“What?”
“You grabbed her. I saw you do it, and you’re lucky I didn’t break your hand right then and there.”
Now red rushed to Sloan’s cheeks. “But I’m the one who’s been helping you! I’ve given you

information—”

“And I’ve given you a salary,” Saxon said flatly. “You did work, you got paid for it.” Now he

stalked toward the SOB. “But when you went after her…” He shook his head. “You made the worst
mistake of your life.”

Sloan’s jaw locked. “Because you’re sleeping with her—”
“You saw her yesterday and you wanted her. When you found out she was taken, you got jealous

and you said the wrong damn thing to her.” He thought of the guy’s hand, grabbing Elizabeth’s
shoulder. “Said and did the wrong thing. So get your shit,” he told the guy once more, “and get out.”

“You can’t do this to me!”
He could do anything he wanted. “Want to bet?”
That was when Sloan lost it. He surged toward Saxon, swinging his fist. It was the most pathetic

punch that Saxon had ever seen. He didn’t dodge it. He just caught the guy’s fist with his left hand and
held it easily.

Sloan’s breath choked out in shocked surprise.
“Want to see how hard I can hit?” Saxon asked him, curious. “Because I think I can take you down

with one punch.”

Fear chased away all the rage that had filled Sloan’s gaze. “Who are you?”

Now Saxon did smile again, but he knew it would be a terrifying sight. “I was your boss, until you

screwed-up. Now I’m an enemy you don’t want to have.” His hold tightened on the guy’s fingers. It
would be so easy to break them…

But I’m supposed to be someone else now.
He shoved the guy away. “We’re done.”
Sloan nearly ran for the door. It slammed shut behind him.
Saxon exhaled slowly, then he pressed the intercom button on his phone. “Vanessa?”
“Sir?”
“Get security to escort Sloan Quest from the building. He’s no longer in my employ.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
He ended the connection. This businessman shit wasn’t easy. When he saw an asshole messing

with his woman, Saxon wanted to beat the shit out of him, plain and simple.

But I held back. The guy walked away.
If they’d met on the streets of Miami, in any of the bars that Saxon had visited during his

undercover days, Sloan wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Saxon exhaled. He’d had a gym installed for the employees. One that included a few punching

bags. He needed a workout—bad. He was still in the mood to pound something.

***

She found him in the gym forty-five minutes later. Word had reached Elizabeth about Sloan’s

dismissal, and she’d known—right away—that Saxon had found out about the guy’s little chat with
her.

Saxon was the only one in the gym. He was wearing jogging pants and a loose t-shirt. One that was

covered in sweat. He was pounding a big punching bag, hitting it over and over again with lightning-
fast moves. For a minute, she just paused and watched him.

The guy was incredible.
And so sexy.
But…
“You were in the hospital two weeks ago,” Elizabeth pointed out.
He stopped punching. His shoulders heaved as he leaned forward.
“Maybe you should take things a little easier.”
He caught the swaying bag in his hands and stilled it. “You heard.”
“Gossip travels fast.” Gossip and voices…she’d heard Sloan shouting when security escorted him

away.

Saxon glanced over at her. A drop of sweat slid down his cheek. His eyes were hesitant, a bit

wary. She wasn’t used to seeing him look that way. Since when did Saxon hesitate about anything?

She crept closer to him. The gym was quite impressive. Lots of weight machines. Ellipticals.

Treadmills—

“He took a swing at me. Was I supposed to let the guy keep working here?”
Her head tilted as she studied him. “You heard what he said to me this morning.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Fine, fuck yes, I did. And the guy was fired the minute those words

shot out of his mouth and he grabbed you.”

That was what she’d thought. Elizabeth wet her lips and asked, “So why didn’t you storm in

immediately? I-I didn’t even realize you were there.”

Now he turned to fully face her. “Because you were handling your shit, baby.”
She blinked.
“You were a perfect lady—and he was trash. You were in control, and I just wanted to watch

you.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Then I fired his ass.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Saxon…”
“I don’t have this thing down yet, okay? This whole business world, playing things cool. I wanted

to drive my fist into his face and break his nose, but I didn’t.”

Ah. Things clicked. “That’s why you’re in here punching the bag.” Because he still wanted to

punch something.

He gave a curt nod. “I just…I don’t want anyone hurting you. You…” Saxon trailed off.
But she wanted him to keep talking. “I—what?”
“You matter to me.”
It wasn’t a declaration of undying love. The words were rough and curt and growling—typical

Saxon, but they still made her heart beat faster as a warm glow spread through her chest. Elizabeth
had to quickly look away from him because she was afraid her gaze might reveal too many of her own
emotions.

“Elizabeth?” Now he sounded worried.
She blinked again, a few fast times, and looked back at him. “You matter to me, too.” More and

more with each moment that passed.

He took a few steps toward her and started to reach out for her, but then he stopped. “I’m a sweaty

mess. I should go get showered. Get back to work.”

“I should, too. Get back to work, I mean.” Though the idea of stepping into a shower with him sure

was tempting. Her gaze went back to the punching bag. “I bet you were fantastic to see in the ring,”
she whispered.

“Damn straight.”
The guy was so cocky sometimes. Laughter spilled from her.
“God, but I love that sound.” His words were just as rough as before and his eyes had darkened

with a feverish intensity.

Her laughter died away. “Saxon?”
“If I had my way, I’d hear your laughter every day. It just…it makes me feel good.” Then, before

she could speak, he whirled away and picked up a towel. “I know I sound like an idiot, so just—”

She touched his arm. What a sweaty, strong arm it was. His muscles flexed beneath her touch.

“You don’t sound like an idiot.”

He looked down at her. A faint furrow appeared between his brows, as if he were trying to figure

her out.

So she decided to help him understand things. “To be really honest, I want to jump you right now.”
His lips parted in surprise.

“But I have two people waiting in my office.” And she also had some serious lust pouring through

her. Because Saxon when he was angry and fighting—sexy. Very, very sexy. “So I have to get back
to them.” She pushed onto her tip toes. Her lips brushed against his. “But as soon as this work day is
over, you’re totally going to be mine,” she told him, voice soft and husky with desire.

Then she pulled away. Turned for the door. She took a few steps—
“Sweetheart, don’t you know…” His rough voice stopped her.
She looked back at him.
“I already am yours.”

***

Victor’s phone rang just as he pulled up in front of the house at 2809 Wiltmore Road. The house

that had once belonged to  Hugh  Rowe.   Not that  Hugh was supposed to live there any longer.  He’d
lost  the  house  as  he’d  lost  nearly  everything,  fighting  to  get  his  father  released  from  prison.    Now
Hugh was supposed to be living and working in Charleston. Except he hadn’t reported to work for a
week and a half.

The phone rang again. Someone has bad timing. He reached down and lifted the phone to his ear.

“What?” Okay, so that was a pissed-off bark, but he was so close on this mission.

He thought that Zoe Peters might be in that house. It was the only house on the overgrown street.

Twisting trees and heavy bushes were everywhere else. This place was his destination—and he
couldn’t just sit his ass in the car, talking on the phone. He needed to move.

“I thought you needed to know,” Tracy said softly, “Gary Warren is dead.”
What?
“He came at me during the interrogation. I didn’t have a choice. I-I had to shoot him.”
Hell. His eyes squeezed shut for an instant. “We’ll deal with this when I get back.”
“You need to be back right now! Cops were watching the interrogation, they saw him attack me, but

you know FBI Brass will want you here to—”

“Screw the Brass. I have an agenda of my own right now.” His eyes were on the house once more.

It looked abandoned. As if no one had been there in months.

But he knew how deceiving appearances could be.
“Where are you?” Tracy whispered.
“I’m helping a friend.” Saxon, I’m paying you back. “As soon as the job is done, I’ll be back. I

promise.”

He disconnected the call. Climbed from the car. Checked his weapon. There was no sound on the

street. Nothing at all. It was a hot day and there wasn’t even any wind stirring from those trees.

He figured he had two options. Sneak in or go in with guns blazing. Since there was only one road

leading to the house, sneaking wasn’t so much an option for him. The guy would have heard my car
coming up.

He took out his weapon. It looked like option two was the winner. Time to go in blazing.
He ran for the door. He didn’t have a search warrant because this wasn’t any kind of sanctioned

case. He’d checked the missing persons’ database—no Zoe Peters was listed. Since he couldn’t
handle this one the right, legal way, he’d do it his way. Victor kicked that door in and raced inside.

“FBI!” he yelled.

But the small den was empty. It appeared to have been empty for a long time. The empty room was

covered with only cobwebs and dirt. A rat ran across the floor.

Victor raced through the narrow hallway. The bedroom on the right was empty. Half of the wall in

there looked as if it had rotted away. He turned to the bedroom on the left. “Zoe  Peters!” Her  name
was close to a roar. “I’m here to help you!” Only he wasn’t seeing her.  He checked the kitchen—or
what  was  left  of  the  kitchen.  Someone  had  ripped  out  the  sink  and  all  of  the  electrical  outlets.  The
house had been trashed. He knew it was a foreclosure, but he’d been hoping…shit, he’d hoped that—

“Here!”
He spun around. His feet kicked against an old rug that had been left at the edge of the hall. And

why the hell was that rug there? Everything else had been taken from the place.

He shoved the rug out of his way and saw the trapdoor that it had hidden. The house had a cellar.

Well, no wonder the home had looked deserted from the outside. He lifted up the trapdoor and it
gave a long, loud creak.

Darkness waited below him. He reached down and touched a wooden ladder that was connected

to the wall. He climbed down, making certain to keep his gun ready.

When he touched down on the floor of that cellar or basement or whatever the hell it was, he pulled

a pen light from his pocket and shone it around the area. There was a door on his right. He made his
way to it and twisted the knob. Locked.

Like that ever stopped him. He kicked that door open, just as he’d done upstairs, and Victor rushed

inside at the same time that the lights flashed on, far too bright. He blinked, caught off guard for a
moment and blinded by the light, then something slammed into the back of his head. He hit the floor
hard, but Victor rolled quickly, coming back up to his feet in a lunge. The broken remnants of a
wooden chair were around him.

“Don’t even try it, hero,” a low voice growled at him. “You make a move at me, and I’ll take us

all out.”

He could see the SOB talking to him, and Victor knew he was staring at Hugh Rowe. The guy

looked just like his DMV picture—well, minus about ten pounds and with some scraggly-ass stubble
covering his jaw. Hugh had a small, black device in his hand. And the jerk was grinning from ear to
ear.

“Please…” A soft voice came from behind Victor. “He’s got the bomb on me.”
And Victor turned then to meet a pair of frightened green eyes. His gaze swept over the woman,

noting her features—not delicate, but more sensual with her full lips and high cheekbones—her long,
dark hair, her golden skin and—

The bomb that was strapped to her chest.
What the fuck did I walk into here?  This wasn’t like any abduction that he’d ever seen.
“Drop the weapon,” Hugh snapped at him.  “Or I’ll make the pretty girl go boom.”
Jaw  locking,  Victor  did.    Hugh  scrambled  forward  and  grabbed  the  gun.  His  right  hand  stayed

locked around that little black device. A detonator.

“Now who the hell are you?” Hugh asked.
Victor faced him, trying to appear non-threatening. He knew he couldn’t make a move against the

guy because he didn’t know enough about the bomb they were dealing with. “I’m an FBI Agent, and

I’m here to rescue Ms. Peters.”

Hugh laughed. “Ain’t no one rescuing her. That bitch is going to pay.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times!” Zoe cried out, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I don’t even

know you.”

“But I know you, too well,” Hugh said. He pointed the gun at Victor. “And you’re going to die,

too, because I don’t want no FBI asshole messing up my plans!”

“You don’t want to shoot me,” Victor said. “That’s a bad idea. Especially considering that I can

help you.” It wasn’t his first time in a hostage situation. He knew he had to keep the guy talking. But
it is the first time an abducted woman has been wired to explode!

“You can’t help me! You can’t—”
“Luther Bates killed your father. Did you know that?”
The guy blanched. All of the color poured from his face. “No, no, that’s a lie! I’m waiting to get

word from my dad now. He’s gonna tell me what to do next!”

“He’s not going to tell you a damn thing. He’s on a slab somewhere, if they haven’t already

dumped his body in a grave near the prison.”

Zoe gasped behind Victor. “You shouldn’t have told him that.”
“But it’s true,” Victor said. If the guy had been following his father’s orders—and it sure sounded

as if he had—then Hugh needed to know that the man wasn’t pulling his strings any longer. Titus
Rowe was dead. “I was in the prison with Luther. I talked with him. He’s in solitaire because of what
he did to Titus.”

The gun was shaking in Hugh’s hand. So was the detonator. Not good. The last thing he wanted was

for a nervous finger to pull the trigger on the gun or to accidentally make that bomb explode.

“I’m guessing,” Victor continued quietly, “that Bates knew your father had ordered you to take

Zoe. Bates killed your old man because of what he’d done.”

“No! He’s not dead! I’d know—”
“The cops couldn’t find you to tell you the news.” Because they’d probably just contacted Hugh’s

boss in Charleston, and that guy had no idea where Hugh was. “Your father’s dead, Hugh. So you
don’t have to carry out his dirty work any longer. You don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

The gun lowered. Victor’s shoulders remained stiff and his muscles locked. Lowering the gun is

a good start. But he wanted that gun totally out of the guy’s hand. The gun and the detonator. “I need
you to put down the gun and the bomb trigger. We’re all going to walk out of here together.”

But those words snapped Hugh’s head right back up. “She’s not going anywhere. She’s supposed to

be dying today!”

“Please!” Zoe cried out. “I haven’t hurt you! I haven’t done anything to you! I didn’t even know you

until you broke into my house and took me!’

Victor advanced on Hugh, but he made sure to move his body to the side as he closed in on the guy.

If Hugh got trigger happy, he didn’t want the bullet to be any place close to that bomb. “Give me the
gun,” Victor said. My freaking gun.

But Hugh’s brow had furrowed. “You were in the prison. Talking with Bates.” His head lifted. He

aimed the weapon at Victor once more. “You’re on his payroll, aren’t you? Just another dirty agent,
willing to do anything for good old Luther.”

“No.” An immediate denial.
“You made a deal with him! I’ve seen it before! Cops, FBI agents—you’re all on the take!”
Shit. He did have a deal with Bates. And that deal was contingent on getting Zoe Peters out of that

place alive. “You have it wrong—”

“What’s he gonna give you?” Spittle flew from Hugh’s lips. “If you take me out? What is that

bastard gonna do for you?”

Cancel a hit. “Hugh—”
“What is your deal with him?” Hugh was screaming now.
Zoe was dead silent.
Victor lifted his chin. “If I bring Zoe back in, then he’ll cancel a hit that he has…a hit on one of my

friends.”

Hugh laughed. Mocking, rough laughter. “He’s lying to you. He won’t cancel anything. Your friend

is dead, and you don’t even realize it.” The laughter slowly faded away. “Dead…like you.”

Then he fired at Victor.

Chapter Fourteen

Victor hadn’t checked in.
Saxon frowned down at his phone. His brother should have called by now, but he hadn’t. Victor

never missed a check-in. Never.

Victor had sworn he would call Saxon. The plan had been for Saxon to never call him, probably

because his uber-suspicious brother wanted to only use a burner phone when he contacted Saxon
but…Something was obviously wrong with the plan.

Saxon called his brother. Not some number to a burner phone, but Saxon’s real number. The phone

rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

Pick up, Vic. Just pick up.
On the fourth ring, the phone was answered.
“Victor,” Saxon said his name in a relieved rush. “What the hell, man? You missed your check-in

with me—”

Then he heard laughter. Laughter that sure as shit didn’t belong to Victor.
“I’m afraid Victor will be missing more than just a check-in,” a grating voice told him.
“Who is this?” Saxon demanded as every muscle in his body locked down.
“I’m the man who just shot the FBI agent.”
“Then you’re the man I’m coming to kill,” Saxon said flatly. Victor isn’t dead. Vic isn’t dead!
“Get in line,” the guy told him and he hung up the phone.
No, no!
Saxon dialed back immediately, but the phone just rang and rang.

***

“I thought you were here to rescue me,” Zoe Peters said as she turned her head to stare at Victor.

“Not die with me.”

He wasn’t dead, not yet. The bastard had shot him in the right shoulder—trying to take out my

firing arm—then he’d cuffed Victor and left him on the floor of that damn basement.

Now he was in that room with Zoe, and she still had a bomb strapped to her chest. Not the best

odds he’d ever faced, but not the worst ones either.

Victor’s phone was ringing again. A phone that Hugh had in his hand.
“Who is that asshole calling?” Hugh demanded. “Why won’t he just stop?”
Victor sucked in a deep breath and ignored the pain that pulsed through him. “That asshole is my

brother…” Think, think, think. There had to be a way out of this. A way that didn’t involve Victor
and Zoe getting blown into a million pieces.

“Family,” Hugh muttered, disgust thick in his voice. “Family is why I’m here. Why you’ll die. Why

she…” Fury darkened his face. “Why she will die. I’m going to make Bates pay for what he’s done. I
will make him—”

“You’re trying to get at Luther Bates?” Like he didn’t already know that. “Then answer that phone.

My brother has something that Bates wants very, very badly.”

Hugh’s eyes turned to slits.
“Bates took out a hit on the Ward family years ago. Maryann Ward is the lawyer who gave the DA

all the evidence on Bates. She’s the one who sent him to prison.”

“Maryann Ward.” Hugh smiled. “Oh, I do remember her name.”
“Then maybe you remember that the hitman took out Maryann and her husband, but he missed the

daughter, Elizabeth Ward.”

Hugh’s smile stretched even more. “Elizabeth.”
He didn’t like the way the guy said Elizabeth’s name. With such smug satisfaction. Victor started

backpedaling with his plan because…something is off here. Some shit is really off.

Other than the bomb and the woman who’d been held hostage and—
Hugh answered the ringing phone. “Do you have Elizabeth Ward?”
“No!” Victor shouted because maybe Saxon would hear him. “Don’t give her up! Send the FBI here

—I’m in South Carolina, with Zoe—”

Hugh sighed and lifted the bomb trigger.
“Don’t say another word,” Zoe whispered. “I don’t want to die like this.”
Victor stopped talking.
Hugh held his stare. “I ask again…” he said into the phone. “Do you have Elizabeth Ward?

Because your brother just brought her to my attention…and I have to think that he wouldn’t have said
her name unless you really did have her with you.” And the guy looked as if he’d just been given
some amazing-ass Christmas present.

***

Do you have Elizabeth Ward?
Saxon had to loosen his hold on the phone because he was close to splintering the thing. “Who is

this?”

“We covered this already,” he was told, “I’m the man who shot your brother, and I can be the man

who kills him, too.”

Not Victor. “What do you want?”
“I want Elizabeth Ward, if you have her.”
His jaw locked. “I don’t.” Lying was easy.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” The voice was mocking. “Because now I’m going to put a bullet right

between your brother’s eyes.”

“No!” Saxon shouted.
The guy demanded once more, “Do you have Elizabeth Ward?”
“Yes,” he growled. Elizabeth’s image flashed in his mind. Beautiful, sensual Elizabeth. The

woman who could make him feel so much, who could make him need so much.

“I want her.”
Too fucking bad. She’s mine.
“I’ll let your brother go, if you bring Elizabeth Ward to me.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “Tell me where you are.”

“Your brother already told you…South Carolina.” Now the guy’s voice was annoyed.
“I’m nowhere near South Carolina.”
“Then you’d better get here, fast, and when you do, we’ll talk again.”
“Don’t you hurt him, do you understand me?” Before he could fly to South Carolina, the guy might

decide to sink a bullet into Victor’s brain.

“If you don’t bring Elizabeth to me, I’ll do more than hurt him.”
Shit, shit, shit! “Why do you want her? What are you going to do?” Because you won’t—
“Elizabeth Ward and I share an enemy. I need her. You bring her to me, and you and the FBI agent

can just walk away.” There was a pause. “He says he’s your brother. Surely your brother is worth
more to you than she is?” Then he laughed again. “Maybe you think you know the woman, but you
don’t. I know her secrets. I know all about Elizabeth…now bring her to South Carolina.”

The guy knew her secrets? That didn’t make a bit of sense to Saxon. Elizabeth didn’t have any

secrets. She was good and kind and the best thing that had come into his life in so long.

The best thing…since I met Victor and Jasmine. They’d been my only family until I found her.
“Call again when you’re in South Carolina. If I don’t hear from you in four hours, the FBI agent is

—”

“I’m on the West Coast,” Saxon rushed to say. “I need more time.”
“What you need…is to get on a freaking plane. Get on a plane and head to Charleston.” The line

went dead.

Saxon stood there a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed

to do.

Trade one life, for another?
He looked down at his phone. Victor had always been there for him. His brother needed him right

now. If Victor was already shot, if that bastard on the line hadn’t been lying…

I can’t let Vic die.
He dialed the FBI. Used the contact number that Victor had given him. Within minutes, he had

Tracy Adams on the line. Before he’d left Miami, Victor had told him that Tracy had been cleared
through the FBI channels. The suits in power had put her back in the field.

“Saxon?” Tracy asked, voice confused. “What’s going on? I-I thought you were gone…”
He had been gone from the game, but his brother’s life was on the line now. “I need you to help me

find Victor.”

“What?”
“Victor’s in trouble. I know he’s somewhere in South Carolina, but I need a specific location.

He’s…his life is on the line here.”

“But he’s not on any sanctioned FBI case.” Her voice lowered, became hushed as if she didn’t

want anyone to overhear her as she said, “The Brass is pretty pissed at him because he went off
radar. He was supposed to come in for an interrogation, but he didn’t. Said he was working
something on his own.”

My fault. “He’s working for me. He’s trying to get Luther Bates to take the hit off Elizabeth

Ward.”

“What?” Now her voice sharpened. “But—but she’s gone. The last I heard, the US Marshalls were

supposed to be putting her into protective custody.”

“She’s with me.” And I won’t risk her, but I will save Vic. “I’ll be flying in to the Charleston

airport, and Tracy I’m going to need help.”

“You have it.” Now her voice was soft again. “I’ll get there before you do.”
“You can track his phone, right? Find him that way?”
“I’ll find him,” she promised. “You just look for me when you land.”
He ended the call. Exhaled. For a minute, he stared down at the scars on his hands and he

remembered the past. Once, he’d fought Victor. Now, he’d fight for him.

Just as Victor had fought for him.

***

Elizabeth glanced around the tasting room once more. She had plans for a kick-off gala to be held

in that room. She’d already started making arrangements with a local caterer so that they could be
ready—

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She whirled at Saxon’s voice, a wide smile on her face.
But he wasn’t smiling back at her. His face was hard, so very tense. Just as it had been the first

time I saw him.

He stalked toward her, an air of menace hanging around him. “Do you know what I would do…”

Saxon asked quietly. “To someone who threatened your life?”

Goosebumps rose on her arms. “Saxon?”
“I’d destroy him. I’d destroy anyone who wanted to hurt you.”
There was a hard, flat tone of utter certainty in his voice. She shivered.
His head cocked to the right. “Does that scare you?”
“Nothing about you scares me.” That was the truth. She wanted all of him, good and bad and

everything in between.

His hand lifted and his knuckles slid over her cheek. “I can be here, wearing the suit, pretending to

be someone else, but deep inside…we both know what I am.”

“Saxon—”
“A killer, a—”
“No.” She caught his hand and held tight to it. “You’re a fighter. A protector. You’re the man I-I

want.” She’d almost said he was the man she loved. But Elizabeth had held back. Why? Because she
was scared. Not of him, never of him. Her eyes searched his as worry slid into her heart.
“Something’s happened.’

He gave a faint nod. “I have to leave town for a bit. One of the winery’s security guards will be

seeing you home today.”

Her hold tightened on him. “Where are you going?”
His gaze became shuttered. “To see Victor.”
He was holding back on her. “What’s going on?” When he was silent, she stepped closer to him.

“Please, Saxon, tell me.”

He glanced away from her. “I’m going to see my brother. A short trip. Nothing for you to worry

about.”

“Liar,” she whispered.
His lips curled the faintest bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He pulled away from her and

headed toward the door.

She stood there a moment, her mind whirling, then she blurted, “I want to come with you.”
He stilled. “That’s not an option.”
“Why not? If you’re just going to visit Victor…”
Saxon looked back at her.
She could see the terrible truth in his eyes. “Victor is in trouble, isn’t he?” Her voice was hushed.
The lines near his mouth deepened. “I’ll take care of him. It’s what we do. We take care of each

other. Me, Victor, and Jasmine…” He turned away again.

She raced across the room and blocked his path before he could reach the door. “I want to help.

Whatever is going on here, let me help you.”

He stared down at her. There was longing on his face, in his eyes, but he gave a determined shake

of his head. “There’s one thing I won’t risk for him.”

“What? Saxon, I don’t understand what’s happening.”
His hands curled around her shoulders. He pulled her up against him. Crushed his mouth to hers.

Kissed her with a wild fury that made her heart race and her body ache.

“You,” he rasped against her mouth. “I won’t risk you.”
Then he left her, striding quickly from the room.
And Elizabeth knew that whatever was happening—whatever dangers Victor faced—they were

very, very bad. The last time she’d seen Victor, he’d been determined to get the hit on her canceled.

Whatever has happened to him…it’s because of me.

***

The airport was busy when Saxon strode inside. There were families around, laughing, talking.

Businessmen rushing to collect their luggage.

He barely spared any of them a glance. Everything happening around him—it was all just noise.

Getting to Victor, saving his brother, that was his priority.

He hadn’t called Jasmine. He didn’t know what he’d find waiting for him in South Carolina, and he

didn’t want to risk Jazz, too. Tracy had promised to provide support for him—and he would trust
her. Victor had said the woman was a good agent, the best on his team.

He would—
The noise around him dimmed because she was there. Standing just a few feet away and nervously

biting her lip.

“Elizabeth?”
She swallowed and nodded.
He was at her side in an instant. “What the hell are you doing here?” He’d left her all safe and

sound back at the winery. She shouldn’t be in that busy California airport with him.

“Something has happened to Victor, right?”
His back teeth clenched. “Yes.”
“Because of me?”
He looked away.
“You do that…you look away when you don’t want to lie to me.”
Saxon caught her arms and walked her over toward the wall, blocking her view of everyone else

with his body. “Whatever is going on—”

“It’s because of me. Victor was trying to help me. And now you’re flying off, and I’m coming with

you.”

The hell she was.
But Elizabeth reached into her bag and she pulled out a ticket. “After you rushed out on me, I talked

with Vanessa. She’d booked your flight, so I got her to book mine, too.”

No, this wasn’t happening. “You can’t come with me.”
On the intercom, he heard them announce the boarding for his flight. He backed away from

Elizabeth, but she caught his hand.

“Why not?”
And he wouldn’t lie. “Because the bastard who has Vic—that bastard wants you! He wants to trade

Vic’s life for yours, and that isn’t happening.”

She paled as she stared up at him.
“I can’t lose you, and I won’t lose Vic.” That meant he went on the plane by himself. “You mean

too much to me.” And because he didn’t know what the hell was going to happen when he got to South
Carolina, he leaned forward and kissed her once more. This kiss was different from the one he’d
given her in the winery. Not wild, but soft and sensual. He poured his emotions into that kiss. He
wanted her to know how he felt even if he didn’t have the words that he should be able to give her.

Do I love her?
Yes, he thought he did. But he’d never told a woman that he loved her. Never had those words

come out. He wasn’t sure they could. He was so screwed up on the inside. Far more damaged than
his sweet Elizabeth probably realized.

I knew she was too good for me, but I couldn’t stay away. And once he’d had her, there had been

no going back for him.

“Good-bye,” Saxon breathed the words against her lips, then he kissed her once more. This time,

when he kissed her, he could taste the salt of her tears on his tongue.

He turned away and headed for the plane.

***

Saxon buckled his seatbelt and leaned his head back against the seat. He’d need to get a weapon

when he arrived in South Carolina. And he’d check in with Tracy to see what kind of reinforcements
would be available from the FBI.

His eyes closed as he planned.
Getting Victor out alive was priority one. Making sure that—
He smelled honey. Sweet, sweet honey. Something soft brushed against his knee.

Saxon shook his head even as his eyes opened. Elizabeth was there and currently sliding into the

seat right behind his. He caught her arm. “What are you doing?”

She glanced down at his hand. “I think I told you before, I won’t have you risking your life for me

again. I won’t let you or your brother be in danger because of me.”

“You don’t understand—”
“No, Saxon, you don’t understand.” The tears were gone from her eyes. She stared up at him and

said, “I love you, and I won’t let you just fly away from me. If there is something I can to do help you,
I will.”

I love you.
He hadn’t heard anything past that. Tell her that you love her, too. Tell her. But he couldn’t speak

a word.

The flight attendant’s voice drifted through the plane as she began her safety spiel.
“It’s okay,” Elizabeth told him with a soft smile. “I know you don’t love me yet. It’s too fast, I get

it. But do I love you, Saxon, and I’m coming with you. I’m going to be by your side. I’m going to—”

“Why?”
Her smile widened. “Because that’s what family does.”
No, no…why do you love me? And why was it suddenly so hard for him to actually speak?
She caught his hand and brought his scarred knuckles to her lips. “Whatever is waiting for us, we’ll

face it, together.”

The hell they would. “He wants you.” He’d told her that already. “The bastard is trying to trade

your life for Victor’s.” That’s a trade that will never happen. I’ll protect her. Always. Victor was
his brother, and he’d do just about anything for the man. Take a bullet, give up his life.

But there was one thing he wouldn’t do.
I’ll never trade her. Because she just meant too much to him.

***

Hours later, they were in South Carolina. Finally. Elizabeth had felt as if they were racing some

invisible clock during the entire journey.

As soon as they left the Charleston airport, Saxon pulled out his phone. His face was tense when he

made the call, and Elizabeth stood beside him, hardly daring to breathe.

“I’m here,” Saxon said into the phone.
She inched closer, trying to hear the other man’s voice. It was garbled but it sounded like he

asked…Did you bring her?

Saxon’s gaze slanted toward Elizabeth. “Yes.”
A car horn honked, drowning out any hope she had of hearing the other man’s words.
“Where are you?” Saxon demanded.
“No cops…” She caught those words clearly.
A family came out of the airport, talking excitedly and laughing. She glanced over at them for an

instant. When she looked back at Saxon, he looked even more grim and intense.

“I’ll be there,” Saxon promised.

“An hour.” She heard that part very clearly. “Or he’s dead.”
She shivered. Night had fallen, and there was darkness all around them. So much darkness.
Saxon ended the call and put the phone in his pocket.
“What happens now?” She asked him.
“Now…” Saxon said. “I go and get my brother.” He took her elbow and led her toward a black

SUV. The driver side door opened just when they reached the vehicle and a woman with long, red
hair stepped out.

“Hello, Tracy,” Saxon said.
Elizabeth’s focus shifted to the woman. There was a gun holster at the woman’s hip. She really

hoped the chick was FBI and not—

“I’m Agent Tracy Adams,” she said, giving a quick nod toward Elizabeth before she motioned them

toward the vehicle. “And I know where Victor is.”

Saxon and Elizabeth climbed into the back seat. Tracy slid back into the front and she cranked the

engine.

“I know, too,” Saxon muttered. “The guy is expecting me to come to him…with Elizabeth…within

the next two hours. He told me no cops, no other agents…or Victor would be dead.”

“Figured as much,” Tracy said. “ I broke the rules by running the trace on his phone so I could get

his location. And considering that I don’t know what I could be walking into here…I figured it would
be a case of a two-man team up. You and I against whatever hell is waiting.”

“But if he sees you,” Elizabeth pointed out, worry making her voice thicken, “then he’ll know

you’re an agent. He could kill Victor.”

Tracy drove them away from the airport. “Saxon, tell me this…does he know what Elizabeth looks

like?”

“If he’s been online, then, yeah, the guy probably knows what she looks like. He’ll have seen her

hair, her—”

“Yeah, but now that she’s gone darker, she probably doesn’t look too much like her old pictures,

anyway. She’s my size, my age…” Tracy braked at a red light. “I’m hoping we can fool him, just long
enough for me to get inside and help you get Victor out. I’m thinking that when I go in with you, he
won’t see an agent. He’ll just see…her.”

Elizabeth’s breath whooshed out. That plan might actually work. Only there was one more thing.

“What can I do?”

Tracy’s gaze met hers in the rear-view mirror. “Stay down and out of sight in the car. If we come

out fast, we’ll need you to be ready to drive us away in an instant.”

So she was the getaway driver?
“Do you have a team standing by?” Elizabeth said. She must have a team. But…if Tracy did…then

why does she need me to be her getaway driver?

“No team,” Tracy said as the light turned green. “We’re solo on this because Victor went off the

grid. I don’t know what the hell he did for you, Ms. Ward, and the last thing I want is for the FBI to
wind up tossing my mentor in jail because he broke the law for you.”

“We’re doing this on our own,” Saxon said. “Not like it will be the first time.”
And Elizabeth prayed it wouldn’t be their last.

Chapter Fifteen

“This is the place,” Tracy said as she pulled the SUV onto the old road that ended at a dead-end.

When the SUV’s headlights flashed, Elizabeth saw that the narrow road was surrounded by
overgrown trees and bushes.

But then Tracy killed the lights and slowly turned around the vehicle, maneuvering it carefully on

that too-tight road. When she was done, the vehicle was ready to race right away again. Elizabeth’s
hands fisted in her lap. And I’ll be the driver.

“I need a weapon,” Saxon said, “and I know you’ve got a back-up.”
Tracy grunted and handed him a gun. “I never leave home without one.”
The interior of the SUV was so dark. Elizabeth wanted to be able to see Saxon’s face. She needed

to see him again.

“We’ll play this like I’m your girl,” Tracy said. “We go in, we catch the bastard off-guard, and we

get Victor out of there.”

“But you don’t know what’s waiting inside.” Elizabeth hadn’t flown all the way across the country

just to lose Saxon. She had no intention of losing him, period. “You can’t just go in and—”

His fingers curled around hers. So warm and strong. “Victor’s inside. That’s all I need to know.”
Then he was gone. He’d slipped from the vehicle. Elizabeth hurried out, too, but Tracy just tossed

her the keys. “Stay with the ride,” Tracy ordered her. “And stay out of sight.”

But she wanted to help. That was why she’d come. To be with Saxon. To stand by his side and

face whatever hell was waiting. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt for me!”

Her determined voice stopped them cold.
“I should go in,” Elizabeth said. “If this guy wants me, then I’m going. I’m—”
“I’m an FBI agent,” Tracy told her flatly. “I know how to do this job. No offense, lady, but you’re

PR. What the hell are you going to do? Talk the guy to death?”

“I—”
“Stay by the ride,” Tracy snapped. “And this will all be over in a few minutes.”
Tracy turned away.
“Saxon?” Elizabeth called.
He hesitated. “You won’t be risked.”
Then he, too, turned away, and Elizabeth was left by the car.
“You really need to get to know me better,” she whispered. “I don’t like being left behind.” She

opened the SUV’s door and started looking for a weapon.

***

Saxon didn’t look back as he headed toward the decrepit house. He had to put Elizabeth out of his

mind because he couldn’t afford any distractions, not then. He had a job to do.

Saving my brother.
“I never realized how close you and Victor actually were,” Tracy murmured.
The house was dark before them.

“But you’re risking your life for Victor, so I guess that bond has to be pretty deep, huh?”
“He’s my brother,” he said, the words a low growl.
“Ah. Now that is interesting.” She paused. “Family. Can’t live with them…can’t let someone else

kill them.”

He slanted a fast glance at her. They were getting close to the house now. Tracy needed to keep

silent.

“Do you think he’d give up his life for you, if your positions were reversed?” Tracy asked softly.

“Because I don’t think he would. I’ve started to realize that he isn’t the man I believed he was.
Brother or no brother.”

They crept onto the old porch. The lock on the door was broken—it looked as if someone had

smashed the thing—so they headed inside without any problem. But the place looked deserted. His
pen light swept the area, and he didn’t see anything or anyone.

“I don’t think…” Tracy whispered, “that Victor really has a heart at all.”
They were now in what looked like the kitchen. Tracy took a step forward, but he stopped her,

pointing to the trapdoor that he’d just seen on the floor. His light swept over it.

There might not be anything happening in the main level of that old house, but

downstairs…downstairs, I’ll find my brother.

He opened the trapdoor. It gave a long, low creak.
“I did some research on Titus Rowe,” Tracy told him as she crouched at his side. “You know Titus

used to work for Luther, back in the day.”

He started climbing down the ladder.
“But then Luther betrayed him. You see…Titus was his explosives guy. He could blow up

anything, anywhere.”

Saxon stilled and stared up at her. Tracy was making no move to follow him down into the

basement.

“But one day, Luther double-crossed him. Titus’s wife was caught in the cross-fire. She died and

Titus—well, I guess that pissed him off.”

He wanted revenge against Luther Bates. Another eye-for-an-eye asshole.
“Titus had a son. This house belongs to that son—to Hugh Rowe. And guess what? He’s real

pissed, too.”

There was something in Tracy’s voice, a low, cold note that put him on high alert. And she still

wasn’t coming down the ladder into the basement. “Tracy…” He stared up at her. “What have you
done?”

She smiled at him and then she lifted her gun. “Keep going down the stairs, Saxon. If you don’t, I’ll

just shoot you right here.” She gave a little laugh. “By the way, you might as well just drop your
weapon. It won’t work. I made sure that it wouldn’t fire before I gave it to you.”

***

The house was still and dark…and she’d found a crowbar in the back of the SUV.
Elizabeth crept closer to the house. She was way, way out of her league but…Saxon was in there,

and every instinct she possessed told her that she should be in there, too.

She loved him. She needed him. And she was not letting the guy die for her. He’d already suffered

too much. They were supposed to be safe now. But, no, because of her, Saxon’s brother was in
danger.

She crouched near the bushes that surrounded the house. She needed a sign, something to show her

if Saxon was safe. And if he wasn’t safe, then she really needed some tip-off to indicate she should
run in there like a mad woman, swinging her trusty crow-bar.

She just needed a sign…

***

“Saxon!” Victor shouted when he saw his brother. He lunged up out of the chair, his hands cuffed in

front of him. “Dammit, man, you—”

“He didn’t come alone,” Tracy said as she stepped from behind Saxon. Her gun was pointed at his

brother. The light in that little room shone down on them, so very brightly.

And, too late, Victor realized that Gary hadn’t been the only traitor in his department.
I am so fucking blind. Had Tracy been working with Gary all along?
“Um, who are they?” a woman with dark hair and scared green eyes whispered.
Saxon’s gaze had shifted to Zoe and his jaw hardened when he saw the bomb wired to the woman’s

chest.

“Hey, baby…” Hugh stepped from behind the door. He’d been waiting, biding his time as Saxon

and Tracy entered the home. “I see you came with company,” he told her.

Then Tracy leaned forward and kissed the bastard.
What. The. Hell?
Saxon used that moment, though, the brief distraction that it was. He spun quickly, and he grabbed

Tracy’s wrist. He yanked the gun from her hand and, in a flash, he’d aimed it right at Hugh’s face.

And Hugh…as per usual…laughed. Hugh lifted his left hand, revealing the trigger he had there.

“One touch, and your brother will be blown to bits. We all will be.”

Tracy pulled away from Hugh.
And Saxon didn’t fire his weapon, but he also didn’t lower the gun, either. “Vic, I want you to get

the fuck out of here,” he ordered without looking over his shoulder. Victor knew the guy wasn’t about
to take his stare off Hugh, not when the man with the detonator was the main threat in the room.

Victor heard Zoe’s breath catch.
“Run up the stairs and get out of here!” Saxon barked. “I’ll hold them.”
Hugh pushed Tracy out of his way. “Drop the gun! Drop it or we all die!”
But Saxon shook his head. “No. I don’t think you’ve got the balls to hit the button. There’s a timer

hooked up to her bomb.” Saxon knew his bombs, thanks to a few undercover missions that had put
him right into the line of fire—literally. “You think I didn’t see it? You’re planning to kill us, but not
until you’re safely away. Too bad, asshole. Too bad… because if you don’t let my brother walk out
of this pit, you won’t ever get away! I will kill you right here!”

Hugh’s finger was poised over the trigger.
“Please,” Zoe begged Victor, “don’t leave me. I don’t…I don’t want to die here.”
He turned and his fingers caught hers. “You won’t.” None of them would die there.

But then a gun blasted. He whirled back around, expecting to see that Saxon had just shot Hugh…

but Saxon was the one staggering back. Saxon was the one with blood pouring down his shirt.

And Tracy raised her gun and aimed it at Victor. “Backup weapon,” she said, giving a grim smile.

“Guess he should have checked for that.”

Saxon!
“Do you know…” She asked Victor, her voice oddly calm, “how much I really hate you?”
Saxon groaned and tried to lift his weapon.
Tracy advanced and put her gun right to his head. “I hate you so much,” she told Victor without

looking at Saxon, “that I’m going to make you watch while I put a bullet in your brother’s head, and
then I’ll let Hugh here kill you.”

***

When she heard the gunshot, Elizabeth’s whole body jerked. She was racing toward the house

before she could even think to stop herself.

Not Saxon. Not Saxon. Not—
She couldn’t see anything in that house. It was too dark. She stumbled around, gripping the crowbar

too tightly as she searched desperately for Saxon. She wanted to call out to him, but she was afraid—
afraid of making him more of a target. Afraid of distracting him.

She stumbled, she searched…and then she almost fell in the damn hole in the floor. Elizabeth’s

hand flew out and grabbed onto the ladder. A ladder that must lead to some kind of basement. As
quickly as she could, Elizabeth crawled down and that was when she heard the voices…

“I hate you so much that I’m going to make you watch while I put a bullet in your brother’s

head, and then I’ll let Hugh here kill you.”

***

Saxon stared up at the woman who held the gun to his head. He was so tired of betrayal. Every

time he turned around.

“You fucked me, then you tossed me aside,” Tracy told Victor. “Like I was nothing.”
“I was drunk that night,” Victor snapped back.
“I can’t believe this shit,” the woman wearing the bomb—had to be the missing Zoe Peters—

muttered.

“But I found someone who recognized my worth. My true worth.” She smiled over at Victor.

“Want to guess who introduced Hugh and me?”

He didn’t speak. Neither did Saxon, but he did do one hell of a lot of bleeding.
“No? It was Gary. Good old, dead Gary. You see, Gary was training me…to learn how to use the

FBI’s secrets. To use everyone’s secrets. It’s those secrets that can make you rich.”

“You’re not going to be rich,” Victor shouted. “You’re going to be rotting in a jail cell.”
Tracy just shook her head. “I’ll be living on an island. Sipping margaritas all day.” She turned her

attention on Saxon. “You see, I know what sweet Elizabeth is worth, and I’m about to collect on that
bounty.”

The hell she was.
The bullet had slammed into his stomach, a gut shot that hurt like hell, but he actually didn’t think

Tracy had hit anything vital. Her mistake.

“Where is she?” Hugh demanded. “Where is the bitch?”
Saxon’s gaze drifted to him. “You’ll…want to watch that.” Because no one talked shit about his

Elizabeth.

Hugh smirked at him. “You’re a dead man already. Why the hell do I care what you think I should

watch?” Then he grabbed Tracy’s arm. “Where is she? I told this dumb asshole to bring her here—”

“He did,” Tracy assured him. “She’s in the car, waiting all clueless and scared. I figured we

needed to handle him before we took her out. Saxon is obsessed with the woman, so I knew he’d be
trouble.”

He was bleeding all over the floor. “Not…obsessed…” Saxon snarled at them. “Fucking…love…

her…”

Tracy’s eyes widened, then she laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless. Priceless. Guess what you’re going

to get to do? You ready for this? You’re going to get to die for the woman you love. For that clueless
little bitch up there who doesn’t even know what’s happening in here.” Her fingers tightened around
the gun. “See you in hell, Sax—”

Her words ended in a pained grunt. Something hit her from behind and she went down hard. When

she crumbled, Saxon lunged forward. He scooped up her gun and whirled to see…Elizabeth. Standing
there, breath heaving, and a crowbar clutched in her hands.

Holy hell, but I love her.
“I’m not a clueless bitch,” Elizabeth muttered.
Hugh screamed at her, and Elizabeth whirled and slammed her crowbar into his arm, too. The

bomb’s detonator fell from his hand, tumbling right to the floor.

But it didn’t hit. Victor’s cuffed hands flew out, and he grabbed the detonator. “Got it,” he growled.
Yes!
Tracy appeared to be unconscious from that hard crowbar hit, but Hugh was trying to grab for

Elizabeth. “Get away from her!” Saxon roared as he tackled the bastard. One hit had Hugh on the
ground, and then Saxon started pounding him. Again and again and again.

No one hurts Elizabeth. You sure as shit don’t trade for her life!
“Saxon.” Elizabeth’s hands closed around his shoulders. “Saxon, it’s okay. He’s not fighting back.”
He couldn’t. The guy was out cold.
“Would someone please get this freaking bomb off me?” Zoe’s yell had him glancing over his

shoulder even as his hand was still poised in a fist—one ready to smash into Hugh once more. He’d
broken the guy’s nose and blood covered Hugh’s face.

“Please,” Zoe said. “Before that psycho wakes up!”
Victor was already heading toward her, reaching out with his hands. The woman looked like she

was equipped with some kind of vest, one that was fully wired with explosives. He’d actually seen a
bomb just like that during one of his other undercover missions. Though he’d done everything he
could, the victim hadn’t escaped alive.

“Oh, my God,” Elizabeth whispered.

Saxon surged to his feet and immediately staggered. Damn blood loss. But then he reached for

Elizabeth, running his hands over her. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she told him, swallowing hard even as her fingers skimmed his jaw. “I just…I needed

you.”

“And I need some help over here,” Victor shouted. “Sax, shit, you’re the one with the bomb

experience! Help me!”

Saxon made his way to his brother. Zoe was still sitting in the chair, her face pale and her eyes—a

shade very close to Elizabeth’s green—were wide with fear. “I really don’t want to die like this,” she
told him.

Elizabeth was at Saxon’s side, holding him tightly. His blood was on her, and the wound just kept

throbbing, probably because the bullet was still inside of him. He’d deal with that, later. One thing at
a time.

First, the bomb.
Second…loving Elizabeth.
Third, the bullet.
He reached down to his ankle, and of course, the move just made the wound hurt all the more, but

he managed to grab the knife from his ankle sheath. In order to get Zoe safely out of that vest, he’d
have to slice through some of the wires. And hope that he didn’t slice the wrong ones.

“Good news and…bad news,” he muttered as he lifted the cover off the central control on the

bomb.

Victor swore.
“Good news…the guy doesn’t seem to know bombs as well as his old man.” Because it would be

easy enough to get the bomb off her. “The bad news…that SOB already started the timer.” He must
have hit it when Tracy had shot Saxon.

“Saxon,” Elizabeth’s voice had gone hoarse. “Be careful.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not dying now.” He sliced through the wires. A sweet little red wire, then the

blue wire did the trick. The timer immediately stopped. “I’ve got too much to live for.” Then he
sliced through the straps of the vest, taking it slowly and carefully off the woman.

When the vest was off her body, Zoe shuddered. “Thank you.”
Moving inch by inch, he put that vest down. “Now, we all…we need to get the hell out of here…”

Saxon licked his desert dry lips. “In case there’s a fail-safe on the thing.”

“F-fail-safe?” Elizabeth asked as her eyes seemed to double in size.
“Yeah,” Victor threw out as he yanked the other woman from her chair. “One that will kick in and

make this whole damn place go boom!”

They all whirled for the door.
And Saxon saw that Tracy was rising to her feet. She took one look at the bomb behind them and

ran toward the ladder.

Shit. There probably is a fail-safe. Saxon grabbed Elizabeth and urged her forward. He was

leaving a trail of blood with every step he took, but he didn’t care. At least he was taking steps. Steps
that would lead them to safety.

“No!” Hugh was trying to push to his feet. “They can’t…get away! They have to…to die!” Then

he reached behind him and pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. A gun that he didn’t aim at
Saxon. He pointed it right at Elizabeth. “Family…for f-family!”

Using all of his strength, Saxon lunged forward and put his body in front of Elizabeth’s.
“No!” she screamed as she tried to push him away.
But he wasn’t about to move. The bullet would have to go through him. I will always keep her safe.
Hugh’s face was a mask of rage. “You don’t even really know who she is! You’re gonna die for a

woman you don’t—”

“I know who she is,” he said flatly. Saxon was using the pain that flowed through him, to fuel his

fury and make him stronger. “She’s mine.”

“No!” Hugh screamed. “She’s his! His flesh and blood, just like the other whore! They’re both

going to die, and then he’ll have nothing, nothing! The bastard will pay to have his own flesh killed
—that’s the fucking best part! He’ll rot in that jail and have—”

Saxon leapt forward. Hugh tried to shoot, but Saxon knocked the guy’s hand to the side and then he

drove the knife he held right into the bastard’s chest.

“She doesn’t die,” Saxon gritted out. Not on my watch.
Then his fingers locked with Elizabeth’s. They ran past the fallen man, with Victor and Zoe right

on their heels.

Saxon pushed Elizabeth up the stairs. “Sax—”
“Go, sweetheart, go!”
Then Victor was there. Saxon stepped back as Victor said, “Zoe, get up those stairs and out of this

house!”

Zoe grabbed for the stairs.
“Now you, bro,” Victor told him.
Locking his teeth, still using the pain that coursed through him, Saxon climbed that ladder. He

cleared the top seconds before Victor came up after him.

Zoe was running for the door, but Elizabeth was waiting there. Waiting for me. And when Saxon’s

legs tried to give out beneath him, she slid her shoulders under his arm and held him tight. “I’ve got
you,” she told him. Victor was on his other side, also holding Saxon up and rushing with them toward
the door.

At any moment, Saxon feared an explosion would rock the place, and he was praying hard because

he needed Elizabeth to get out alive. She had to survive.

“Go,” he rasped to her and to Victor because he was slowing them down now that his strength was

ebbing and—

“Just shut the fuck up,” Victor told him as both his brother and Elizabeth just seemed to move

faster…and to tighten their hold on Saxon.

Then they were outside. They didn’t stop. They kept running—
And they were still running when the house exploded behind them.

Chapter Sixteen

“Saxon!” Elizabeth screamed. She’d flown through the air, the explosion propelling her away from

Saxon and straight into the street. Her palms were scraped raw and bleeding. Her cheek was
throbbing and—

There was a ball of flames where the house had been.
She staggered up to her feet, looking for Saxon. “Saxon!” Then she saw him. In the middle of the

road, about ten feet from her. She started hurrying toward him.

And then the headlights hit her. She heard the SUV’s engine growling and her head snapped up.
The vehicle was racing right toward her!
Tracy didn’t leave. She just waited to see who survived. Now she was coming to pick off the last

of her prey.

Elizabeth ran to Saxon. “Get out of the road!”
But he wasn’t moving. The SUV was coming closer. She grabbed Saxon’s arms and started

dragging him. His eyes were closed and he was a dead weight.

“Elizabeth!” That was Victor’s voice. Her head jerked up and she saw him close to the burning

house.

“Help me!” she screamed at him.
The SUV was so close. Too close. She needed to be stronger. She pulled again, straining with all

of her might. Tracy was aiming right for them. Intending to kill both Elizabeth and Saxon.

But then Victor started shooting. She didn’t even remember him grabbing a gun before they’d gotten

out of that basement. His bullets blasted into the driver’s side window of that SUV. Bam. Bam. Bam!

And the SUV started to veer. Only it was still too close. Too close!
She put her body on top of Saxon’s and heaved. They rolled. Once, twice, and she felt the rush of

the SUV as it slid inches past her body. Then the SUV kept going. It drove forward fast and slammed
straight into a tree. When the vehicle stopped, its horn was blaring—a long, continuous cry.

And Saxon was too still beneath her. “Saxon?” Elizabeth said his name as her trembling fingers

stroked his face. “Saxon, please open your eyes and look at me.”

Footsteps thundered toward her. She didn’t glance up. She was looking at the only thing that

mattered right then.

Only he doesn’t see me.
Her fingers went to his throat, and when she felt the beat of his pulse, her whole body shuddered.

He’d been so still, hardly seeming to breathe, and she’d been so afraid that he’d left her.

“What can I do?”
It was the woman who’d been held captive in that basement. She was on her knees beside

Elizabeth.

“I want to help,” the woman said again.
“W-we need to stop the blood flow.” Her hands slid down and pressed to the wound on Saxon’s

stomach. “We have to get help! We need an ambulance!”

“Already called them,” Victor said as he rushed toward them. Then he, too, was on his knees

beside Saxon. “They’re coming. So, Saxon, you just stay strong, you hear me? We’re out of that hell,

and now you just need to stay—”

“Strong,” Elizabeth finished. She could feel tears on her cheeks. Saxon was always strong. What

she wanted, what she needed most was… him. “Hang on,” she begged him. “Because you’re not
supposed to leave me.”

His lips moved. So faint. She couldn’t hear him so Elizabeth leaned closer, desperate to hear the

words he’d said—

“Never. Never leave…you.”
A sob broke from her. His blood was on her hands, and her Saxon was promising her—
“I love you,” she told him and Elizabeth pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
His eyes didn’t open, but he smiled.

***

The ambulance raced to the scene, with a line of cop cars behind it. Sirens were screaming and the

swirl of lights illuminated the night. Fire trucks were there, too, like they’d be any good against the
blaze.

“I’m FBI,” Victor called out as the cops emerged from their vehicles. “Agent Victor Monroe.” He

flashed his ID. “And that man is to be given the absolute best care you got, understand?”

The EMTs were already loading Saxon into the back of the ambulance. Elizabeth was with him.

Close at his side.

Always.
She loved his brother. He knew that. He’d never forget the sight of her, in that street, refusing to

leave Saxon as she struggled to get him to safety.

If I hadn’t grabbed that gun in the basement, she and Sax would both be dead.
What the hell would he have done then?
“Agent Monroe, what the hell happened here?” One of the cops demanded as he stared up at the

blaze.

“Another betrayal.” He was so sick of them. He turned his head and saw Zoe Peters trying to edge

away. He caught her hand and pulled her back to his side. “Not so fast.”

“Look, police stations aren’t so much my scene…”
That fit. He was getting an idea of just what he’d been missing in his little deal with Luther Bates.

“I think I can imagine why.”

A few cops were headed toward the smashed SUV. “It’s too late for her,” he said, feeling an ache

in his chest. “She’s gone.” He’d already checked the vehicle, and he knew that Tracy had been dead
before the SUV hit the tree.

“Who was she?” Zoe asked him softly.
“An FBI agent.”
She tried to pull away then, but he just held her tighter. Vic shook his head. “I’m guessing you know

plenty about crooked agents?”

Her gaze darted to the cops around her. “Everyone’s on the take. Give them enough money, and

they’ll do anything.” Her laughter was bitter. “But you know that, right? I mean, how much were you
paid to come and get me?”

The ambulance had pulled away. Saxon and Elizabeth were gone. “I haven’t gotten my payment

yet, but I will.”

He felt her stiffen.
“I just have to give proof of life, and then we’re clear.”
Their voices were low, carrying only to each other.
But Zoe inched ever closer to him. Her body brushed against his. “Please, I’m begging you…

don’t. Don’t give him proof of life. Let Luther Bates think I’m dead.”

That wasn’t the deal. He shook his head.
“I’ll do anything,” Zoe told him, voice breaking. “Anything. Do you think Hugh Rowe was the first

guy to come after me?  He kept me for days, waiting, and he told me about all the others out there who
want me dead.  He would have killed me…except he got a phone call. I-I think from the dead agent
over there.”  Her head turned toward the smashed  SUV. “She’d found news on someone else that he
was looking for, and Hugh wanted to wait…he had a plan for the other woman, too.”

A plan for Elizabeth?
“He wanted to take us out at the same time. He said…he said that Luther was clueless…that he

didn’t even realize he’d been destroying his own house.” Her breath heaved out. “I’ve never hurt
anyone, not a single soul, but Hugh was going to kill me—” She broke off abruptly.

But he knew what she’d planned to say. “Because you’re the daughter of Luther Bates.”
The blue lights from the police cars continued to swirl around them even as the firefighters poured

water on the blaze.

“I’ll do anything,” she said again, “just don’t give him proof of life…”
But if he didn’t, what would happen to Elizabeth?

***

“Another scar to join the collection,” Saxon muttered as he opened his eyes. He wasn’t surprised

to see the stark walls of a hospital staring back at him. My home away from home. His head turned a
little more, and, this time, instead of finding Victor at his side, Elizabeth was there.

Her clothes were stained with blood and dirt. She had scratches on her face, a faint bruise near her

cheek, and she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

“How about we stop adding to that collection?” Elizabeth asked as she inched forward until she

was leaning against the rail on the hospital bed. “Because when you’re hurt, I’m terrified.”

She’s with me. “I’ll try,” he told her, but Saxon wasn’t going to make any promises. As long as

there were threats to her out there, he’d be fighting. He’d do anything, risk anything, for her.

When did I fall so deep?
Like it mattered. The when and the where…screw that. The only thing that mattered was that he did

love her. He wanted to spend the rest of his days with her. Wanted to build a real life, with her at his
side.

Her lips trembled. “Thank you,” she told him.
And he remembered the way they’d met. The way he’d mocked her about not telling him “thank

you” and Saxon shook his head. “No, sweetheart, you don’t ever need to thank me, not for anything.”
He should thank her, for changing his life, for fighting for him, for—

“Thank you for loving me.”
The machines beeped around him.
“Finally realized that, did you?” He’d wondered when she’d realized just how tangled up in her he

truly was. Saxon stared up at her. He didn’t even feel the pull of the new stitches then. “Loving you is
easy,” he told her because this was the time for complete honesty. “The easiest thing I’ve ever done
in my life.” He paused. “And the best.” For years, he’d had the dream of escaping the undercover
work and getting away. Of starting a brand new life.

Then he’d realized that if that life didn’t include her, he didn’t want it.
She was the one thing he’d found that he would fight for. No matter what.
Always.

***

Two days later…
Victor sat at the narrow little table in the prison. Maximum security lock-up. He wore his suit and

his ID was on the table. As if Luther Bates would have forgotten who he was.

The door opened, the grating clang seeming to echo in the little room, and then Luther was being

led inside.

A new guard was at his side. One who looked far older than the last, one with glinting eyes and a

clenched jaw. But when that guard looked at Luther Bates, Victor could see the fear in that man’s
gaze, too.

Everyone thinks he’s the bogeyman.
Maybe because he was.
The guard secured Luther in the chair across from Victor. Luther didn’t say a word while his

restraints were checked.

“You can leave us now,” Victor said when the guard was done.
The guy hesitated.
Victor sighed. Same story as last time.
Luther rolled his shoulders and glanced toward the door. “This won’t take long,” Luther told the

guard.

The man backed away. Luther really did have everyone in that prison jumping at his orders.
When the guard was gone, Luther’s eyes locked on Victor. “Did you find her?”
Victor leaned forward. “Hugh Rowe is dead.”
Luther’s lips curved a bit. “Like father…like son. Maybe they can be together in hell.”
They aren’t the only ones heading to hell.
“So you did save her,” Luther said. “Good. I have to admit, I had my doubts, especially when the

sexy little FBI agent came in, offering me such a good deal.”

He already knew that Tracy had been in to see Luther. He’d checked the logs at the prison. “Did

you know that sexy little agent was working with Hugh?”

Surprise flashed across Luther’s face.
“That’s the problem with being locked in a cell, you miss the important shit that’s happening out in

the real world.” He shrugged. “Like the fact that you were screwed over by not one, but two FBI
agents.”

But Luther was grinning his smug smile. “You’re one of those true blue types, right? And you got

my Zoe out of there. You killed that punk Hugh and you—”

“I’m not the one who killed Hugh Rowe. My brother did that…the same brother who happens to be

in love with Elizabeth Ward.”

That smug smile faltered a bit.
“So I figure you owe him, seeing as how he’s the one who killed the guy.”
Luther looked away.
“We had a deal,” Victor reminded him, fighting to keep his voice even. “Cancel the hit on

Elizabeth Ward.”

But Luther’s lips had thinned.
“You bastard,” Victor said. “You wanted Tracy Adams to finish the Ward hit, didn’t you? To kill

Maryann’s  daughter  so you’d have  your  vengeance. You  are  as  screwed  in  the  head  as  Hugh  was.”
No,  this  man  had made Hugh  into  the  monster  he’d  become.  “Destroying  your  own  house,”  Victor
whispered, truly understanding those words now. Oh, but Tracy must have thought she was so clever
when she came in to that prison and started making deals with Victor. “Tracy  knew secrets. So many
of them.  So did Gary. They were both screwing you over, and you didn’t realize it.” Maybe Gary had
learned  the  truth after Maryann  and  Stan  Ward  had  died.  When  he’d  been  reviewing  their  medical
reports.  As  an  FBI  agent,  it  would  have  been  easy  enough  for  him  to  get  access  to  Elizabeth’s
background information, her blood work…as easy as it was for me.

Victor surged to his feet, leaning over the table. “You want some proof? I’ve got some damn proof

for you.” And he threw the test results across the table at Luther.

Luther’s manacled hands rose slowly. His bushy brows lowered as he scanned the text. “What the

hell is this?”

“Elizabeth Ward got caught in the cross-fire at Rowe’s place. If it hadn’t been for her, the SOB

would  have  blown  up  that  house  with  all  of  us  inside.”  He  paused.  “When  Elizabeth  was  at  the
hospital  afterwards—she  needed  a  few  stitches—I  convinced  a  doctor  that  I  needed  access  to  her
blood work.  I snapped my fingers, and they ran a test for me.  You’re looking at the results from that
little test.”

Luther was shaking his head. “No, no—”
“Look at the results. Elizabeth Ward is your daughter, you prick. The proof is right in front of your

face. You put out a hit on your own daughter!”

“No!” Luther’s face had turned ashen. “Maryann said she wasn’t—that she was Stan’s—Maryann

betrayed me, she—she—”

“You and Maryann were involved, on and off, for years, right?” Because he’d been digging hard

into Maryann’s past. “You met when she first entered law school…back in the days before you were
a drug lord.” They’d actually gone to the same college.

Then fate had split their lives apart.
“Years later, you needed a lawyer, so you went to her. Guess you just couldn’t keep your hands

off her, huh?”

Luther still appeared stunned.

“She was the mother of your daughter, and you had her executed.”
Luther’s shoulders sagged. “Mine?”
“Cancel the hit on Elizabeth. “
Luther was just staring blankly at the report.
“Hugh knew that Elizabeth was your daughter. He thought it was hilarious that you were going to

kill your own flesh and blood. Like I said, he told us that you were destroying your own house.”

Luther balled up the test results.
“The sexy agent that you mentioned? She was going to kill Elizabeth and Zoe…because she wasn’t

working for you.”

“She worked with Gary,” Luther bit out. “He trained her—”
Sonofabitch—that was what he’d feared. What he’d feared, but the Brass at the FBI had cleared

her despite his protests. “She killed Gary.”

Luther’s eyelids flickered.
Well, well… “You paid her for that, didn’t you?” The Feds were already searching for off-shore

accounts that could be tied back to her. Accounts they must have missed the first time around.

“Gary disappointed me,” Luther said, his voice eerily calm. “I hired him for a job, and, even after

all this time, he didn’t finish it.”

“Yeah, well, be glad, or your daughter would be dead.” Did the psychopath even care? Probably

not. He wasn’t capable of caring, he wasn’t—

“Assassins always work for the highest bidder…Agent Adams must have gotten a higher offer from

Hugh. He would have known that I spoke to her here.” Luther’s head tilted to the right. “Just as others
will know that I spoke to you today.”

But there was one big difference. “I’m not on the take for you.” He didn’t like the shit the guy was

implying.

“Aren’t you?” Luther taunted.
The bastard wasn’t going to budge. If he didn’t cancel that hit, then Elizabeth and Saxon would be

looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.

I’m wasting my time with him. “Tracy Adams was screwing you over from the get-go. She was

involved—intimately—with  Hugh  Rowe.  I’m  betting  she’s  the  one  who  led  him  to  Zoe.  Then,  she
convinced  you  to  actually pay her  to  kill  Elizabeth,  even  though  she  knew  the  woman  was  your
daughter. She played you, through and through, and you never even realized it.” Victor strode toward
the door.  “You’re a clueless bastard, and you’re going to die in this prison.”

“We’re not done!” Luther shouted.
Yeah, they were.
“Protect her…” A low whisper.
Victor glanced back.
The man’s eyes were blazing with emotion. “Protect my Zoe. She’s the…the only good thing I

had.”

“And Elizabeth? She’s good, too.” She’d fought like a tigress to save his brother. He’d never

forget the sight of her, swinging that crowbar like a bat.

Luther’s breath heaved out. “Don’t ever tell anyone about Elizabeth, got it? Not a single damn

Chapter Seventeen

Three weeks later, the winery was full of well-dressed men and women. Men who cut through the

room in their tuxes and women who shined in their top-end dresses. A band was playing, their music
filling the room.

It was the official opening, and the Laurent Winery was making a splash.
Elizabeth’s gaze drifted around the room. This was their big night. Everyone was sampling the

wine and having a fantastic time.

So where is Saxon? It was his party, and the man needed to show up soon.
She smiled at a businessman. There weren’t any reporters at this event—she’d made sure of that.

Saxon was going to be the reclusive owner of the winery—a guy who seldom, if ever, gave
interviews.

Because his past needs to stay buried.
As for her own past, Victor had told her that she was safe, that the hit had been canceled.
I’m free.
Only she hadn’t returned to Miami once she’d gotten the news. She’d stayed at home, with Saxon.

Their new home.

Her gaze swept the crowd once more. When she didn’t see Saxon, she slipped through the crush

and made her way to his office. The door was shut, but she knocked lightly, then went inside.

He was there, with his back to her, staring out that big window and looking into the night. His

shoulders were so stiff and tense that she hesitated, worried that something had happened. “Saxon?”

If possible, his shoulders seemed to tense even more. Worried now, she quickly made her way to

him. As she approached, he turned toward her, and Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. The man was
killer hot in that tux. Like danger wrapped up in a sexy package.

Temptation.
But his tense expression had her heart racing with worry.
“Wh-what’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked him.
His hands were shoved into his pockets. “It’s a big night.” His voice was the deep, rumbling growl

that she loved.

She flashed him a smile. “It’s your night. You should be out there, enjoying it.”
His gaze slid to the door, then back to her. He shook his head. “Why go out there? Everything I

want is right in front of me.” He reached for her hands and pulled her closer. “Right here.”

Sometimes when Saxon looked at her, she could actually see the love in his eyes. She wondered

why she hadn’t seen it sooner. Maybe she’d been afraid to look too deeply into his dark gaze.

He gave her a small smile. One that was oddly hesitant. Then he bent down in front of her. Her

heart seemed to jump straight into her throat. “Saxon?”

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket. That hand held a ring. A beautiful diamond that glinted

up at her.

“I love you.”
She would never get tired of hearing him say those words.
“Will you marry me?”

She couldn’t speak.
Fear flashed across his face. “I-I know I’ve got a shady past, that I’m not always the…the easiest

of lovers, but, sweetheart—”

She took the ring from him. Put it on her finger. It fit her perfectly, just the way that he did. “Yes.”
“You’ll marry me?”
Elizabeth stared into his eyes. “You’re not the easiest of lovers, you’re the best of lovers.” He’d

sure ruined her for anyone else. “And I plan to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Saxon smiled at her. God, she’d never get used to his smile. The way it lit his face. Changed his

whole face. Not dangerous then…

Mine.
And Elizabeth knew she was staring at the man who was truly hers. And he’d been there with her,

during her darkest moments, keeping her safe, loving her, and she hadn’t even realized that all
along…

He’s all I will ever need.
He pulled her into his arms. Put his mouth on hers. He kissed her so carefully, as if she were the

most precious thing in his world. And that was how he made her feel—always so important.

So wanted.
She eased away from him. “Everyone is waiting outside.”
His gaze was on her mouth. “Guess we should go out there.”
“No.” She kissed him again. “We should let them drink all the wine they want, and we should stay

right here.”

His brows climbed.
“Do you like my dress?” She asked him.
He nodded.
“Do you like my underwear?” Elizabeth pushed.
His lips parted.
“Oh, wait,” she murmured as happiness bubbled inside of her. “I forgot…I’m not wearing any

underwear.”

The darkness of his gaze grew even more intense. “Sweetheart…”
“I’ve missed your desk.” Her hand trailed down his chest. “You’re all healed now, right?”
He was already pulling up her dress. When he saw that she was, in fact, not wearing any

underwear, Saxon let out a rough curse.

She smiled.
And he lifted her onto the desk.
“To be honest,” she told him as her hands went to his waist. “It wasn’t the desk I missed.” But

she’d known that he needed time to recover.

His hand was on her sex. His fingers were in her. Her moan came fast and hard, the same way that

she knew her climax would be hitting soon. She was already wet for him. One touch, and she felt as
if she were close to exploding.

His cock was out. Fully erect. She wanted to take time and stroke him, to caress him with her lips

and tongue.

He moved between her thighs. Positioned the head of his arousal right at her sex. His hands caught

hers. Their fingers threaded together, and he drove into her in one, long, mind-blowing thrust.

Then a knock sounded at the door.
Elizabeth froze. I forgot to lock the door!
“Go the fuck away!” Saxon snarled. His gaze never left her face. His cock filled her completely,

stretching her, and she had to arch against him.

Then he groaned.
And she moaned.
And the footsteps padded away.
“Now where were we?” Saxon withdrew, then plunged back into her. “Ah, yeah, I think…”

Another thrust and retreat. “We were right…here.”

He kissed her.
She came a few minutes later, her whole body exploding with pleasure, and he was there, right

there with her. Holding her tight.

Loving her.

Epilogue

Victor hurried away from Saxon’s door. He knew the sound of a man who was busy…and a huge

part of Victor envied his brother.

Saxon was a lucky bastard. Elizabeth knew all of Saxon’s secrets, and she didn’t care about his

past. The darkness he carried didn’t bother her at all. In fact, she seemed drawn to him because of it.

Maybe one day he’d find a woman like that.
Instead of the women who just tried to kill him.
A waiter walked by and Victor snagged a glass of wine. He hadn’t told Elizabeth or Saxon about

Luther, well not about the fact that the psycho was Elizabeth’s father. He figured they’d both been
through enough hell without dropping that particular bombshell into their lives.

And finding out that her father had been the one to cause her mother’s death? No, that was shit that

Elizabeth didn’t need to know.

Elizabeth was family now. Soon to be his sister-in-law. It was Victor’s job to protect her.
She doesn’t need to know. The truth will only hurt her.
So he’d add that secret to the dozen others that he kept, and he’d hope that those secrets never, ever

made it to the light of day.

Because if they ever did, he knew there would be hell to pay.

###

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for taking the time to read MINE TO HAVE. I hope that you enjoyed the story.
I’ve had so much fun writing the “Mine” books—and, I really want to thank my readers for all of the
support that they have given to these stories.

If you’d like to be notified about my new releases, please sign up for my newsletter

www.cynthiaeden.com/newsletter/

. I also post lots of updates (and giveaways) over on my Facebook

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Best wishes,

Cynthia Eden

Mine To Take (Book 1)

Sometimes you want someone so much…

Sometimes you need someone so much…

Lust can become love.

And love can turn into a deadly obsession.

***

Skye Sullivan knows that someone is watching her. Not just watching—stalking her. Months ago,
Skye was involved in a dangerous car accident. The accident ended her dancing career and sent her
fleeing back to Chicago. Skye is convinced that her stalker caused the crash, and she fears that he
won’t stop pursuing her, not until she’s dead.

When someone breaks into her apartment in Chicago, Skye turns to the one man she believes can
protect her—Trace Weston. Once, Trace was her lover. Two lost souls, they’d come together in a
firestorm of need and desire. But then Trace had pushed her away. He’d joined the military, vanishing
from her life. She’d put all of her emotion into dancing, and she’d tried to forget him.

Now Trace is one of the most successful men in the United States. Rich, driven, and carrying dark
secrets, he agrees to help Skye. He’ll protect her from the danger that lurks in the darkness, but Trace
wants more than to just be a guard for Skye.

He wants her. And he’ll take her. The years have changed him, hardened him. He’s not just a poor kid
from the streets any longer. Now, he can have anything—or anyone—that he wants. And the one
woman he has always wanted has just come back into his life. He won’t let her go again.

But with the threats mounting against Skye, she suspects that her stalker may be intimately close. He’s
a man who knows her too well. As his attacks grow ever more dangerous, she realizes that if she
trusts the wrong man, she could be making a fatal mistake.

Lust. Love. Obsession.

Just how far would you go in order to possess the one person you want the most?

Mine To Keep (Book 2)

Love is the most dangerous obsession…

Skye Sullivan is trying to put the pieces of her life back together. She survived a brutal stalker and
escaped his abduction, and now she is looking to the future—a future that includes Skye’s lover,
billionaire Trace Weston. Skye thinks the danger is finally over for her.

She’s dead wrong.

When Trace’s past comes back to haunt him, Skye discovers that the man she loves isn’t quite who he
seems to be. Trace has been leading a double-life. An ex-special forces agent, his military training
turned him into the perfect killing machine. He made more than his share of enemies during his time in
the military—and as he built his security empire—and one of those enemies is striking back.

He won’t lose her.

Skye is the one weapon that can be used against Trace—his only vulnerability. But he won’t let her
go—he can’t. Trace will do anything necessary to protect Skye. Anything. Yet when she discovers the
secrets that he’s tried to keep hidden, Skye’s pain and rage may send her running directly into the
cross-hairs of a killer…

Mine To Hold (Book 3)

She was one man’s obsession…

Nine years ago, Claire Kramer’s lover brutally killed her family, and he tried to kill her. She
escaped, but she’s been haunted ever since that attack. Too afraid to trust another man and too
worried that her past will catch up with her, Claire never gets too close to anyone. But then she meets
Noah York.

He must have her.

Noah York is a man with secrets. The world sees him as a billionaire hotel tycoon, but Noah has a
dark and dangerous side. For years, he worked covert military operations before he built his fortune.
When it comes to death, Noah is a master. He knows that he should steer clear of Claire, but the
white-hot attraction Noah feels for the delicate beauty is instant—and consuming.

He will never let her go.

Someone else is just as consumed by Claire—someone who will kill to possess her. And if Noah
can’t stop the hunter in the darkness, he may just lose the one woman that he can’t live without.

Mine To Crave (Book 4)

HE TAKES WHAT HE WANTS.

From  the  moment  that  billionaire  casino  owner  Drake Archer  sees  Jasmine  Bennett,  he’s  obsessed.
Consumed by desire for the mysterious redhead, Drake will do anything necessary to claim her.  Yet
as  desire  rages  between  them,  danger  is  stalking  ever  closer.    Drake’s  past  isn’t  dead,  and  the  ex-
Special Forces agent will soon have to face the ghosts he left behind.

SHE’S HIDING SECRETS.

Jasmine isn’t who she pretends to be. She’s a woman on a mission—and she’s supposed to be
stealing secrets from the mysterious Drake. Falling for him isn’t on her agenda, but when lust and love
tangle together, all the rules get broken.

AN ENEMY IS CLOSING IN…

When Drake learns of Jasmine’s betrayal…all hell breaks loose. He knows that he should turn his
back on her, but it’s too late for him. He can’t let her go, but he can teach her a lesson. No one betrays
him…not without paying a heavy price. Drake will destroy all of the enemies on his trail, he’ll bury
his past, and he’ll teach Jasmine to want only him…just as much as he craves only her.

Her Works

List of Cynthia Eden's romantic suspense titles:

MINE TO TAKE (Mine, Book 1)
MINE TO KEEP (Mine, Book 2)
MINE TO HOLD (Mine, Book 3)
MINE TO CRAVE (Mine, Book 4)

DIE FOR ME (For Me, Book 1)
FEAR FOR ME (For Me, Book 2)
SCREAM FOR ME (For Me, Book 3)

DEADLY FEAR (Deadly, Book 1)
DEADLY HEAT (Deadly, Book 2)
DEADLY LIES (Deadly, Book 3)

ALPHA ONE (Shadow Agents, Book 1)
GUARDIAN RANGER (Shadow Agents, Book 2)
SHARPSHOOTER (Shadow Agents, Book 3)
GLITTER AND GUNFIRE (Shadow Agents, Book 4)
UNDERCOVER CAPTOR (Shadow Agents, Book 5)
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR (Shadow Agents, Book 6)

FIRST TASTE OF DARKNESS
WICKED FIRSTS
SINFUL SECONDS

Paraonormal romances by Cynthia Eden:

BOUND BY BLOOD (Bound, Book 1)
BOUND IN DARKNESS (Bound, Book 2)
BOUND IN SIN (Bound, Book 3)
BOUND BY THE NIGHT (Bound, Book 4)
*FOREVER BOUND - An anthology containing: BOUND BY BLOOD, BOUND IN
DARKNESS, BOUND IN SIN, AND BOUND BY THE NIGHT

BOUND IN DEATH (Bound, Book 5)

THE WOLF WITHIN (Purgatory, Book 1)
MARKED BY THE VAMPIRE (Purgatory, Book 2)
CHARMING THE BEAST (Purgatory, Book 3) - Available October 2014

Other paranormal romances by Cynthia Eden:

A VAMPIRE'S CHRISTMAS CAROL
BLEED FOR ME

BURN FOR ME (Phoenix Fire, Book 1)
ONCE BITTEN, TWICE BURNED (Phoenix Fire, Book 2)
PLAYING WITH FIRE (Phoenix Fire, Book 3)

ANGEL OF DARKNESS (Fallen, Book 1)
ANGEL BETRAYED (Fallen, Book 2)
ANGEL IN CHAINS (Fallen, Book 3)
AVENGING ANGEL (Fallen, Book 4)

IMMORTAL DANGER
NEVER CRY WOLF
A BIT OF BITE (Free Read!!)

ETERNAL HUNTER (Night Watch, Book 1)
I'LL BE SLAYING YOU (Night Watch, Book 2)
ETERNAL FLAME (Night Watch, Book 3)

HOTTER AFTER MIDNIGHT (Midnight, Book 1)
MIDNIGHT SINS (Midnight, Book 2)
MIDNIGHT'S MASTER (Midnight, Book 3)

About The Author

Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense.
She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader best-seller. Cynthia is
also a two-time finalist for the RITA® award (she was a finalist both in the romantic suspense
category and in the paranormal romance category). Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia
has written over thirty novels and novellas.

Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings. More information
about Cynthia and her books may be found at:

http://www.cynthiaeden.com

or on her Facebook page

a t :

http://www.facebook.com/cynthiaedenfanpage

Cynthia

also

Twitter

http://www.twitter.com/cynthiaeden

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