There was a long silence before the judge shoved his shirt to the ground, and then quickly toed off his shoes before stripping off the remainder of his clothes. Standing before her naked and erect, he smiled.
Gina walked toward him, stopping a mere inch from touching him. She looked him up and down, and then circled him. When she was behind him she smacked his backside. Hard.
He started to turn. “Hey.”
She pressed her fingers in his back. “My rules,” she warned. When he turned again she smacked him even harder. He didn’t turn this time. “Lie on the bed.”
When he was flat on his back Gina opened a dresser drawer and pulled out three scarves. His eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. Standing above him she let one of the scarves lightly trail around his erection. He jerked slightly, his eyes closing.
She picked up one of his hands and he reached for her with the other. She pointed at his hand. “Stop, or else.” He did. Seconds later both of his hands were tied. She straddled him, intentionally teasing him as she blindfolded him.
Leaning down, pressing her chest against his, her bottom against his erection, she whispered in his ear. “How’s it feel being helpless, Judge?”
He moaned. “Like I’m going to go crazy if you don’t touch me soon.”
Laughing softly, Gina moved off him. “Come back,” he said urgently.
“Soon,” she said as she moved towards the door. She pulled it open and smiled at Marco.
His brow inched up. “It is done?”
One side of her mouth inched up. “Of course.”
“Excellent.” Gina stepped back to allow him to enter. Once in the room he walked to the judge and tightened the knots on his wrists.
“Who’s there?” the judge said abruptly. “Gina?”
“Gina is here,” Marco said and watched the judge stiffen.
Even with the blindfold, his features showed fear. Though Marco had never met the judge, his French accent was an easy giveaway of his relationship to Arel.
“What in the hell?” the judge blurted out. He started to tug on the restraints.
“Calm down,” Gina told him. “It’s just a little game.”
The judge didn’t listen, bucking with panic.
“Enough!” Marco blurted and yanked a gun from his waistband. He pressed it to the judge’s temple and cocked it. “Be still or I will shoot.”
The judge froze.
“You are going to have a good time, Judge,” Marco assured him with absolute truth in his words. “You and Gina are going to play. I like to watch, it’s really quite simple. As long as you do as you are told, it will be painless.” He paused and let the words sink in. “Understood?”
Slowly the judge nodded.
“Good,” Marco said and set the gun on the end table. “Get a glass of water, and come here, Gina.”
Gina did as he instructed and then sashayed over to Marco, setting the glass on the table and pressing her body against his. “Can I warm up on you, baby?” she asked as her hand explored the ripples of muscle she loved along his shoulders.
“Non,” he said. “I’ll watch.” He pressed a strip of sweetness to her lips and she swallowed it. He gave her another. “More. Tonight is special.”
Marco handed her four strips. “Give them to him.”
She sashayed over to him and ripped off the blindfold. She wanted to see the panic in his eyes.
“Forget it,” The judge bit out through clenched teeth. “I’m not taking that.”
Marco picked up the gun and held it to his head again. “The drugs will make you feel good. The gun, I assure you, will not.”
The judge took the drugs.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Luke reached the stairs, his coat concealing a variety of weapons and the journal. He might have to get rid of most of them, but he was banking on keeping at least one. He headed through the entry gates and then down the stairs to the train terminal where there were nothing but concrete beams and benches.
Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to find Hendrix coming down the stairs with a gun in his hand and with three other men following him. “Move to the concrete pole and put your hands on it.”
“You’re Dragonfly,” Luke said. “I should have known.”
“Should have, would have, could have,” he said. “But you didn’t and I can shoot you and get away with it, so I suggest you move.”
Luke pressed his hands to the concrete wall, and two men came to stand on either side of him. One searched him and handed off his four guns and two knives, before grabbing the journal.
The men backed away and Luke turned to watch Hendrix set the journal on fire and then throw it onto the tracks. “That was easy,” he said brushing his hands together. “I thought you Walker brothers were good?” He shrugged. “Guess not.”
“Was it the money that turned you, or were you always like this?” Luke asked.
“Money, power, more money. It makes the world go round.”
“The missing agent–”
“She got too close. Hell, she was sharper than you Walkers. She had to be dealt with. Just like you.”
“And my brothers?”
“Will never know I was involved.”
“Ouch,” a familiar voice said. “Don’t pull so hard.”
Luke’s blood ran cold at the sound of Julie’s voice. She appeared on the stairs, being pulled forward by another one of Hendrix’s men.
“Look what we have here,” Hendrix said as she was shoved toward him. “Nice taste, by the way,” he said looking her up and down and flicking a taunting glance at Luke. “Perhaps I can sample the goods before we do away with her.”
She didn’t react, as if she knew it would please him. Her eyes met Luke’s. “I figured out it was him, and I tried to warn you.”
“Better late to the party than never,” Hendrix said and winked. He walked towards her, stopped directly beside her. “You certainly will liven up this little party. How should we get started?”
“Touch her and you die,” Luke promised, his voice low, lethal. “You’re dead anyway, Hendrix.”
Hendrix gave an exaggerated laugh. “I hardly think you’re in a position to be making threats.” He looked at his watch. “The next train will be here in five minutes.” He called over his shoulder. “Pull the car to the exit.”
“Luke,” Julie said. “There’s something I should have told you and I didn’t.”
“Shut up!” Hendrix said, and cut a look to the man holding her. “Deal with her.”
The man slapped her. Julie yelped with the pain, and pressed her hand to her cheek.
Hendrix smirked at Luke. “Come and get me.” He pointed to a guard. “Tell Marco the journal was destroyed before we could get to it. Make it convincing.”
“All this so you don’t get in trouble with Arel over that damn journal,” Luke said. “You really are a sick man.”
Hendrix laughed. “I am what I am, and that’s smarter than you.”
The wind picked up as faint sounds of the approaching train humming through the tunnel. “Let’s go,” Hendrix said to the men, and moved towards the stairs.
One of the men holding guns on Luke motioned for him to move forward. Hendrix and two other men were already headed up the stairs. The odds just improved. That left Luke with his guard and Julie’s to dispose of. The trick was making sure Julie was safe.
The subway car was approaching. Luke’s guard shifted his eyes toward it, and gave Luke the opportunity. He grabbed the man, covered his gun hand with his own, and fired on the other guard. Before he ever hit the ground, Luke had turned, taken the gun fully from the man he still held and put a bullet in him, too.
Luke pointed the gun, surveying the area for anyone else. “Grab the other gun,” he ordered Julie, “and if in doubt, use it.”
The subway car came to a stop and Luke rotated around to point his weapon. Jesse came out, his gun raised, and fired at the stairs. A man rolled down the steps, his gun falling
to the pavement.
“That’s close to even,” Luke said. “But you aren’t there yet.”
“Close is better than nothing,” Jesse said, joining Luke. “Where’s Hendrix? He disappeared on me.”
“He’s Dragonfly,” Julie said, “and how do we get out of here?”
“Everyone okay down there?” Royce shouted from above.
“All clear,” Luke shouted.
“Batman has arrived,” Blake said, appearing on the stairs, two guns in his hand. “Hendrix is dead. Three others in custody. Two others escaped.”
Royce followed Blake down the stairs. “How is it you lost your phone again?”
“We have the same phone, brother dearest. He grabbed mine. And in case you didn’t notice, that’s what warned us about Hendrix before it was too late.” Sirens screamed above ground. “The cavalry has arrived.”
Luke went over to Julie, who was staring at the dead bodies, the gun still in her hand. “You okay?” he asked, removing the gun from her hand.
She nodded, lifted her gaze to his. “I love you.”
“What?” he asked, shocked by the sudden confession.
“I love you and I should have told you before now, and I don’t want to risk ending up like them and you never knowing. I love you.”
He shoved the gun into his coat and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, too.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Yes. I do.”
Murphy rushed down the stairs. “Arel’s house is cleared out and we just got a call from a motel a few blocks away. The judge and Julie’s secretary were found dead.”
Blake scrubbed his jaw. “You really know how to mess up a romance novel moment, man.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julie was exhausted by early morning when she, Luke, and his brothers returned to the Walker apartment. The questions had been many, the answers not as easily found as everyone wanted. The missing agent was most likely dead. Gina and the judge were dead. Arel had disappeared along with every known operation he’d been involved with that the task force had known about.
Julie looked around Luke’s kitchen, eying Luke’s brothers and Lauren, with an odd feeling of belonging she’d never before experienced. She sat on Luke’s lap, as Lauren did Royce’s. Blake, as usual, was eating, stuffing his third donut in his mouth. To watch them together made her experience a little part of something warm and wonderful that she had never known. To be with them helped make the night’s tragedy just a little more bearable.
“Have a donut,” Blake said to Julie pushing the box in her direction.
“I’m too tired to eat,” she said.
“I’m never too tired to eat,” Blake commented, and the room broke into laughter.
“Yes, we know,” Julie said smiling.
Blake finished off his donut and stood up. “Time for beddy-bye.”
“Us too,” Royce said and Lauren climbed off his lap.
“I know you’re tired,” Lauren said to Julie, “but tomorrow let’s talk about you leaving divorce behind and coming to work with my new firm.”
“Yes,” Julie said. “I’d like that.” She was ready to leave the past behind, ready to take some risks.
Goodbyes were said, and soon Julie was alone with Luke. She had no idea what had gotten into her, but now that she’d taken the step to confess her love for Luke, she was feeling daring all over again.
“Luke,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Will you marry me?”
Luke stared at her, a stunned look on his face before his lips curved into a smile. “You know you just stole my thunder, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Us macho Walker men like to go down on one knee and propose properly. And I’m supposed to have the ring first.”
“Oh, right,” she said, smiling at his response. “So, now what do we do?”
He set her on her feet and then back in the chair and went down on one knee. “Julie. Will you marry me?”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling like she was home for the first time in her life.
THE END
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UNDER HIS PROTECTION
Chapter One
“I can’t believe you did this.”
Blake Hewitt stared at her hands clutched in her lap, the sound of her father’s angry voice making her throat close. She refused to look up, didn’t want to see the disappointment written all over his face.
She’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Why did you do it, Blake? You know how delicate circumstances are. The election’s in a couple of weeks and we’ve been struggling. Then you go and do this.”
The loud slap of the magazine hitting the center of his desk sounded and Blake jumped in her seat. Gritting her teeth, her lids lifted, allowing her gaze to focus on the tabloid magazine facing her.
With a candid shot of her on the cover in a most provocative pose. The headline screamed, “Blake Hewitt Revealed!”
She looked away. It hurt too much to remember that night. A night that had been all in good fun with the few close friends she had.
Her friend Shannon invited her over for a barbecue and swimming. Not necessarily unusual in D.C. when the city was in the throes of an Indian summer. She had a few drinks, become a little loose. Stripped down to her American flag bikini—the swimsuit chosen since it was just so ironic, she couldn’t resist—she’d been hot and wanted to jump in the pool. Hey, she was amongst friends, so why not?
But she hadn’t been amongst friends. The photo on the cover of the popular trashy magazine more than proved that. And the two-page spread filled with various photos within the tabloid confirmed it.
She could trust no one.
Blake frowned, sadness filling her. She hoped whoever sold the pictures was well compensated. She hoped the money they made had been worth it.
“Where in the world were you anyway?” her father demanded.
“It was a party at Shannon’s house. You remember Shannon, don’t you?” Shannon’s father had been a diplomat and they’d known each other since they were teens. “It was a small gathering, just a few friends.”
“People you didn’t know were there.”
“And people I did know. I thought…” Blake paused, swallowed hard. “I thought I could trust them.” She winced when she heard her father’s disbelieving grunt.
“Please. Haven’t I told you before you can’t trust anyone? The campaign’s winding down and we’re being scrutinized like bugs under a microscope.” Her father grunted with disgust. “I swear, it’s like you did this on purpose. Mocking our country with the stripes of the American flag draped across your...posterior, stars placed directly over your...God.”
Flinching, she finally looked up at her father, watched as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted. The election campaign was taking a toll on his health and mental state. She wished she could comfort him, give him a hug and whisper she wa
s sorry.
But he would just push her away like he always did. He wouldn’t believe her. In his eyes, she always screwed up. Always made a mess of things, and this latest endeavor was no exception.
He still hadn’t forgiven her when she graduated from college with a degree in political science and instead chose to work in a museum. She’d earned that degree only to make him happy, obtaining her minor in art history to please herself.
She was working on her father’s campaign because he asked her, trying yet again to please him. How she hated being in the public eye. The attention, the photographers, all of it made her agitated, withdrawn. Many believed she was a snob.
At least the media wouldn’t call her the ice queen any longer. Now she was the new party girl.
She didn’t know which moniker was worse.
“The president called a meeting with the immediate staff. We’re creating a plan of attack—all because of this cover.” James Hewitt stabbed the magazine with his finger. “I can only hope we’ll be able to salvage the last few weeks of the campaign. We’re going to have to work extra hard now.”
Despair filled her. The president had become involved? The very last person she wanted to offend. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. It was just an innocent moment, some fun by the pool with friends,” she said, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry.”
Her father glared but didn’t say a word, ignoring her apology completely.
Disappointment flooded her. No matter what she said or did, she could never please him.
“You’ve gone too far, Blake,” her father finally said, his voice low as he watched her, his expression stony.
“They must’ve used a camera phone. I never noticed anyone taking pictures.” She glanced at the offending photo. The quality wasn’t that great. The angle was awkward and slightly out of focus. “Why would anyone sell pictures of me anyway?”
Okay, she knew why. Easy money, plain and simple. A seemingly innocent, fun evening had turned into a huge deal. A giant mistake.