An odd look floated across his face. “Candy Cane,” he repeated.
“Yeah. I’m serious—I think Vince asked her to watch me, and I don’t want her to become a problem.”
“We’ll look into it” was all he said.
“Thanks.” She hesitated. “I really am sorry I didn’t follow your orders. The opportunity was there and I took it, you know? And damn it, but I just want to bring Vince down.”
“I know.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip. “Still, you can’t take chances like that. Leave the taking-down-Vince part to us.”
She bristled at that, stepping out of his grip. “But that’s not your endgame, is it? All you want to do is find that missing agent. The drugs, what Vince is doing to the girls, stopping him—that’s not part of the mission.”
“No,” he admitted. “And that’s not something you can fix either, darlin’. You need to focus on staying alive. If you want out of this messed-up situation you’re in, you’ve got to look out for yourself.”
Olivia knew he was right. Hell, since the attack, her only goal had been to get out of town and away from Vince Angelo. But things were different now. Was she supposed to forget that Vince had killed Cora? That he was sending her coworkers out to sleep with his criminal pals?
“You’re not a cop,” Luke continued. “You’re not going to single-handedly bring Angelo down, no matter how hard you try.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a friend who infiltrated De Luca’s organization twice and the Feds still couldn’t put the bastard away. These people are smart—that’s how they’ve stayed in business for this long. Nothing you or I do is going to change that.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“So look out for yourself. If the address you found pans out, this could all be over by tomorrow.” He stroked her cheek again, and she let him. “Once we find Dane, I’ll get you out of here. Both you and your mother.”
“How?” she whispered.
“Depends on how you want to go about it. You want new identities, you’ll get ’em.”
“And if I want to remain Olivia Taylor?”
“Then we’ll whisk you out of town, set you up somewhere, and arrange for round-the-clock protection in case Angelo tries to follow you.”
His earnest words floored her. Yes, she was risking her neck by spying on Vince, but Luke’s offer seemed above and beyond what he ought to be doing for her. She went quiet as she let it all sink in, until she felt his gaze burning into her and realized she was standing there in her underwear.
She cleared her throat. “I should put something on.”
“Or not,” he replied with a faint smile.
Olivia moistened her dry lips. “What exactly did you think was going to happen when you showed up here tonight?”
He shrugged. “I was going to lecture you for disregarding my orders.”
“And after the lecture?”
His eyes skimmed down to her chest then moved back to her face. “I didn’t plan that far ahead.”
A laugh slipped out. “I really do love the honesty.”
She studied his gorgeous face, and a jolt of attraction rippled through her. Jeez, she seriously had to get that under control. This man, charming as he might be, was not someone she could ever have a future with.
“How’s this for honesty?” Luke said abruptly. “I want you.”
Pure heat engulfed her body, turning into an inferno when she looked at his groin and saw the unmistakable bulge of an erection.
“And I think you want me too,” he added, raising one brow as if expecting her to contradict him.
“There might be a spark between us.” Her tone was grudging.
“Darlin’, that spark is burning so hot we’re about to burst into flames.”
Yep, there were flames licking at her skin, all right. And her nipples had puckered, straining against her lace bra. As their gazes locked, the air in the room grew thick, crackling with tension.
“I don’t have sex with men I’ve just met,” she murmured.
He rested his hands on her hips, the warmth of his touch searing her flesh. “Would you consider making an exception?”
It became difficult to breathe. God, she wanted this man so badly she couldn’t think straight.
But she couldn’t succumb to temptation without thinking it through first. She’d always been cautious when it came to relationships, probably because she’d spent her entire life listening to her mother defend a man who hadn’t deserved it. Kathleen had married Eddie Taylor after knowing him for less than a month; Olivia would never be that foolish. And she wasn’t going to be foolish now either. Luke Dubois was a mercenary making a pit stop in her life before he moved on to his next adventure. She couldn’t let herself forget that, even if his mere proximity did make every inch of her body tingle.
“If we do this . . .” She swallowed. “It won’t lead to anything permanent. You know that, right?”
“I don’t do permanent.” His words were gruff.
“You’re not allowed to fall in love with me,” she continued gravely. “And I’m not going to fall in love with you.”
Luke offered a dry grin. “Any more ground rules you’d like to set?”
“No. I think that’s it.”
“Thank God.”
And then his mouth came down on hers.
The kiss was pure domination. He simply took what he wanted, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as his hands tangled in her hair and his lower body slammed into hers. It caught her off guard, the skill with which he kissed her, the way he moved his hips to position his erection right against her. Yet there was something thrilling about that skill too. This was a man who knew precisely what to do, whose toe-curling kisses promised that the hottest sex of her life was on the horizon.
Olivia gasped when his hands moved to her chest. He cupped her breasts through her bra, then growled and tore open the front clasp.
She wrenched her mouth away. “Did you just rip my bra apart?”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he rasped.
“Said the caveman to the—”
He cut her off with another kiss, and a blast of heat scorched her skin. She was dizzy with desire, battling a level of arousal she’d never known before in her life. Everything about this man drove her wild. His scent, the feel of his calloused palms on her breasts, the taste of his lips as they devoured her mouth. She might not be the virgin Vince believed her to be, but she wasn’t some sexual vixen either. Her hands trembled as she touched Luke, her fingers tingling as they stroked the dark stubble covering his strong jaw.
She yelped when he cupped her bottom and lifted her up against him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and held on tight as he carried her over to the bed and lowered them both onto the mattress. Their tongues dueled again, while his hips continued to thrust and release, teasing her into sheer oblivion. Moisture pooled between her legs and she spread her legs farther apart, sliding her hands down to his ass to bring him even closer. With a groan, he ground harder, moving his mouth to her neck, his tongue and teeth teasing her feverish flesh.
Olivia’s body was on fire. She was close to orgasm—and Luke was still fully dressed, for Pete’s sake. Her hands took on a life of their own, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, dragging the material off his broad shoulders. He helped her out by whipping the shirt onto the floor, the black wife-beater he wore underneath quickly following suit.
The sight of his bare torso made her moan. He was absolutely spectacular—golden skin, perfect sculpted muscles. She explored the planes of his chest, running her fingers over hard sinew, precisely defined pectorals, washboard abs. He had a few scars, a puckered one under his right nipple, a long white one on the curve of his hipbone, the one he’d acquired on his right arm while fighting off that pack of dogs. A tattoo covered his left bicep, an old-school clipper ship with billowing sails, and she traced it with her fingertips before pressing her mouth to the center of his chest, her
tongue darting out to savor the clean, salty taste of him.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, gazing down at her with heavy-lidded eyes.
His hands found her breasts, squeezing, fondling, and when his fingers tugged on her nipples, she cried out in delight, stunned by the shock waves that rocked her body. His hips continued to move, the friction making her mindless with lust. She writhed beneath him, ready to beg him to take his damn pants off when the tension in her body suddenly snapped and an unexpected orgasm pounded into her.
Biting her lip to stop herself from shouting her release out to the world—and her mother—she arched her back and shuddered as the climax sizzled through her like wildfire.
When she finally crashed back to earth, Luke’s dark eyes were focused on her face. “Did you really just come?” he demanded, his voice a cross between a growl and a groan.
She let out a ragged breath. “Uh-huh.”
“Fuck, that’s hot.” He ground his pelvis into her. “Do it again.”
A laugh flew out of her mouth. “How about you take off your pants and we’ll see what happens.”
His hands shot down to his waistband, deft fingers unbuttoning it, pushing down his zipper and—a cell phone rang.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The sheer distress in his voice made her laugh again.
She was about to suggest that he ignore it, but he was already off the bed and yanking the phone out of the breast pocket of his discarded long-sleeve. He cursed as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” Another curse. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
As a wave of disappointment crested inside her, Olivia propped herself up on both elbows. “You have to go?”
“Trev needs me on recon.” His gorgeous features remained taut with passion. “Damn it.”
Although his reluctance to leave made her heart skip, the practical part of her kicked into gear, intensifying when Luke’s gaze fixed on her bare breasts. Her nipples were practically saluting him, puckering even more when he swept his tongue over his bottom lip.
God, what was she doing? Ground rules aside, this was still a really bad idea. She wasn’t a fling girl. She didn’t do casual. And Luke Dubois was casual to the bone.
That phone ringing . . . hell, it was probably a blessing in disguise.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said softly.
She blinked. “What?”
“Don’t second-guess it.” He flopped down on the edge of the bed. “This isn’t over. Just postponed.”
“Unless the interruption was a sign that we shouldn’t do this,” she countered. “A sign that we should end this before it even starts.”
He laughed, slow and sexy. “Darlin’, the only way this is ending is with me buried inside you.”
Well, damned if that didn’t nearly make her climax again.
With a lopsided grin, he bent down and brushed his lips over hers. As their mouths met, he grazed her breast with a lazy finger, tweaked her nipple, and just like that, any notion of practicality flew out the window.
* * *
When Luke’s boots landed on the pavement beneath the fire escape, Sullivan was waiting for him by the ladder. Decked out in all black, Sully leaned against the brick wall and scanned Luke’s disheveled appearance with dancing silver gray eyes.
“Surveillance ain’t so boring anymore, is it, mate?”
He tried to conjure up a decent comeback and failed. He couldn’t deny it, either. His hair was a tousled mess from Olivia’s fingers running through it, and his cock was like a slab of marble, which had made his descent down the fire escape pretty damn painful.
“I’m here to relieve you,” Sullivan added when Luke didn’t take the bait. His gaze dropped to Luke’s crotch. “Not that kind of relief, though.”
“Gee, not even a hand job? I thought we were friends.”
“You’re not my type.”
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure that everyone is your type—as long as they get you off.”
The Australian just grinned. No denials on his part either. Sullivan was the consummate ladies’ man, but it was no secret he’d done dudes too. It didn’t make a lick of a difference to Luke. The guy could screw whomever he wanted, as long as it didn’t affect the mission. Jim Morgan demanded only two things of the team—show up and back each other up. And Sullivan always had Luke’s back.
“Anyway, team leader’s waiting,” Sullivan said. “I’m covering Olivia while you mates scope out the address she got us. Depending on what you find there, we might need to bring in the contractors. Morgan’s got them on call.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. Morgan had eight permanents on the team—well, nine now, with Abby coming on board—but he had a dozen other soldiers on call, men they turned to when missions required more bodies. Every last contractor was a solid asset to the team, but Luke didn’t know any of them all that well, which made him uneasy. He really fucking hated having strangers watch his back, even with Morgan vouching for them.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, smoothing his hair down. “Where you setting up?”
“Building across the street. Don’t worry, mate, anyone comes near your girl, I’m on it.”
“She’s not my girl.” He fixed Sully with a hard look. “That said, any harm comes to her, and I’ll put a bullet in your knee.”
“My knee? That’s kind of a random place.”
“Would you prefer I put one between your eyes?”
“Yes.” Sullivan scowled. “You blow my knee out, how will I play rugby?”
Luke snickered. “Right. I forgot about your thriving rugby career.” He clapped Sully on the shoulder. “Make sure she stays safe. I’m heading out.”
He made a move toward the SUV parked in one of the visitor spaces, but Sullivan’s voice stopped him.
“Milk.”
He turned around with a frown. “What the hell are you talking about?’
“It’ll help with the blue balls.” Sullivan grinned. “Not that I get rebuffed often, but when it happens, drinking milk eases the ache. So does jerking off, but since we’re sharing a room I’d rather you chug some milk.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Rolling his eyes, Luke got into the Range Rover and started the engine. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Sullivan darting around the side of the building, nylon backpack hanging off his shoulder.
As he navigated the deserted streets of the East Village, his thoughts drifted to Olivia, and he suddenly had to ask himself what the hell he was doing. He was always up for casual sex with a gorgeous woman, but he’d never screwed around on the job before. Being a former SEAL, he knew how to separate business from pleasure. Stay focused, get the job done, and do the pleasure thing during shore leave. Women were a distraction, and distractions could be deadly when your ass was on the line. His military career might be over, but the same philosophy applied to mercenary work—mission first, fun later.
This attraction to Olivia Taylor was getting out of control, and he was starting to suspect it went beyond a simple case of lust. She was smart, funny, and far sweeter than any of the women he’d hooked up with in the past. Strong as hell too, which was a huge turn-on. Not many women would have the guts to gather intel on a drug-dealing mobster, and Olivia’s staunch determination to investigate those back rooms still floored him. She might not consider herself strong, but she had nerves of steel. And he wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to hear about her childhood, and her college classes, and her fucking hopes and dreams. How messed up was that?
Not that he was a commitment-phobe or anything. He was happy indulging in no-strings affairs and one-night stands, but he planned on settling down eventually, if he found the right woman to do it with. He’d just figured the right woman would be someone more like him—adventurous, bold, easygoing. Olivia was too cautious, too serious for him. And he could sense that she longed for security, normalcy.
Well, she wasn’t gonna find that with him. He was too
reckless for his own good. He lived on a private military compound with a bunch of soldiers, an ex-Mafia housekeeper named Lloyd, and a slobbering mutt. Oh, and one of his best friends was engaged to an assassin. Could anyone really call that normal?
Smothering a sigh, he pulled into the underground garage of the safe house. When he neared the reserved parking space, he spotted Trevor leaning against one of the concrete columns, a duffel bag by his feet and an impatient expression on his face. The second SUV wasn’t in its spot; D and Holden must have already left for the address Olivia had given them.
Luke let the car idle, waiting for Trevor to toss the duffel in the back and slide into the passenger seat. While the other man buckled up, Luke punched the address into the nav system.
“All good with Olivia?” Trevor asked as they drove off.
“Yeah. She’s safe and sound at her place. Nobody gave her any trouble at the club after her shift ended.”
“Good.”
Stopping at a red light, Luke opened the compartment in the armrest and grabbed his smokes. He shook out a cigarette, lit up, and rolled down the window. “So what happens if we case the place and confirm Dane is there? Do we extract him tonight?”
“No. Tonight we assess, see what kind of perimeter they’ve set up, how many guards are posted, that kind of shit.”
Luke took a deep drag. “More watching, then. Yay.”
“I spoke to Morgan. He said Abby’s gonna try to make our job easier. She’s still got contacts in the CIA, so she’s calling in a favor to see if they can get us satellite images of the place, maybe use thermal imaging to get a sense of how many bodies we can expect to find inside.”
“I can’t imagine De Luca putting a full crew on this,” Luke commented as he exhaled a cloud of smoke out the window. “This is an industrial area. He won’t want to draw too much attention.”
The prediction proved to be correct—when they neared the area in question, they found it utterly deserted. Killing the headlights, Luke drove along the gravel road, scanning the derelict buildings and nondescript warehouses. Most of the buildings dealt with commercial goods, and tall chain-link fences closed off several of the lots. The warehouse they were looking for stood at the very end of the strip, featuring a weathered sign that labeled the place as a carpet depot. It was a large square structure, two stories high with no windows, steel doors, and a loading dock. A few abandoned forklifts littered the pavement, but the unmarked white van parked by the recessed bay hinted that the place wasn’t totally abandoned.