“You’re never going to touch her again,” Jett promised him. “You’re dying, you get that? You’re bleeding out. Do something useful with your last moments. Is there anyone else from your team of assholes who is a threat to her? Anyone who will hurt her?”
“He can’t talk,” Maddox muttered. “Look at that freaking damage to his throat.”
But Patrick—he was trying to talk. His lips were moving. Jett tried to reach him on a psychic link, but Savannah was the only non-Lazarus person he’d ever been able to communicate with that way. So, when he sent his psychic message thundering at Patrick…
Will anyone else hurt Savannah? Is this over?
There was only darkness in response.
Darkness in Jett’s mind, but Patrick’s lips trembled. Pro…tect…
Protect? That was exactly what Jett was trying to do. Protect Savannah. Eliminate all of the threats to her. Save her.
A low wheeze came from Patrick. And then there was only stillness. Silence.
Death.
Jett looked up. His gaze darted around the small building, scanning over the interior. A computer. Old furniture. A broken phone near Patrick.
The cell phone he’d used to call Savannah?
Maddox stalked toward the computer. The screen was lit up, showing— “Bank accounts…in the Cayman Islands.” A low whistle. “Looks like all the cash he took from the other kidnappings.”
Just left up there for them to find on the screen? Too convenient.
“Guess that’s what they were fighting about.” Maddox glanced at the dead man on the floor. “Maybe the other guy wanted a bigger cut.” Then Maddox sent out a fast, psychic message. Scene is secure inside, Luna. All clear.
Jett leaned forward. Patted down Patrick’s body. Found the guy’s wallet in his back pocket. He opened it, thumbing through the contents and—
A picture of Savannah. Smiling. Standing on the beach.
No other pictures. A dozen credit cards. Over a thousand bucks in cash.
Jett frowned at the picture.
“Killers keep tokens,” Maddox murmured as he pulled out his phone. “To remind them of their victims.” He turned away and spoke into the phone, barking instructions back to the base so the clean-up team would move in.
Jett slid the picture of Savannah into his pocket.
“Tech team will come for the computer. When they do their scan, they’ll make sure we’re not missing anything.”
He looked over to see Maddox had already put away his phone.
“It looks like the case is over,” Maddox announced with a grim nod.
It looked too damn tidy to Jett. The scene felt off.
“Probably realized we were closing in—you said the fellow put two and two together, figured out that you were with Savannah.” Maddox shrugged. “Guy must have suspected we’d tracked the call and were rushing over. He and his goon fought—maybe about money, maybe about Patrick being dumb enough to call Savannah and give away their location—and in the end, they killed each other.”
That was the way it looked. But…
“She’s safe now.” Maddox slapped a hand on Jett’s shoulder. “Isn’t that what matters?”
Yes, Savannah’s safety was what mattered most.
So why did Jett feel like she was still in danger?
***
When she heard the key in the front door, Savanah immediately lunged forward. She’d been watching on the security monitor that Jett had installed—she’d seen him approaching her home. So when he unlocked the door and stepped inside—
She hugged him. Wrapped him up tightly in her arms because she was so glad he was safe and sound.
At first, Jett stiffened. Then his arms rose. Closed around her. “I like the way you greet me,” he murmured, voice a bit gruff. “Like I matter.”
What? She pulled back. “You do matter.”
His gaze was intense as it slid over her face. Then he was kicking the door shut. Re-setting the lock and security. He was—
Lifting her up. Holding her easily. Turning and caging her between the door and his body. His mouth crashed onto hers. He kissed her with a wild desperation, and she kissed him back the exact same way. She was so happy to see him, so glad he was safe. Savannah couldn’t get close enough to him. Her hands locked around his neck as she arched up against him.
Her legs circled his waist, and she felt the long, heavy length of his erection pressing against her. She rubbed against him, hating her jeans, hating his pants, wanting nothing between them. She’d just gone straight from worry to insane need.
He pulled his mouth from hers. Bit off a curse, and then he was carrying her to the bedroom. Acting as if she weighed nothing. His hands were on her ass. His cock shoved against her, and she just wanted him.
He lowered her onto the bed. Stripped while he stared at her.
At first, she just gawked at him. Would she ever get used to the sight of his body? Those muscles? That strength? That awesome—
All of his bruises are gone. They’d faded completely. Talk about some insane healing rate. What was the guy—magic?
“Savannah.”
Her eyes jerked up.
“Strip.”
She did. She shoved off her jeans and her panties and—
“Good enough.” He caught her ankles. Pulled her to the side of the bed. “Can’t wait any longer.”
Neither could she. She’d been so afraid something would happen to him. So worried that he wouldn’t come back to her. She’d needed him. Desperately needed him.
He drove into her. She arched off the bed.
His eyes were on hers. Locked. Seeming to see straight into her. Jett withdrew. Then he plunged into her, even deeper than before. He stretched her, filled her completely, and when he leaned close, her nails raked over his back.
This wasn’t the type of lover she normally was. She wasn’t the nails scraping, wild moaning, fuck-me-now type. That wasn’t her. She usually turned off the lights. Pulled up the sheets. She—
His fingers pressed to her clit. Rubbed. Stroked.
His cock moved in and out. In and out. In and—
She came, gasping out his name. But he wasn’t done. He kept thrusting, and the surge of his thrusts made her orgasm last and last. The pleasure pulsed through every cell of her body. It filled her, just as he did and then, he kissed her. He kissed her, and he came, and she could almost taste his pleasure.
Her heartbeat thundered. When he lifted his head, his gaze was still full of so much need. He looked at her as if she was the only thing on earth that he wanted.
No one had ever looked at her like that.
Carefully, slowly, he withdrew from her body. Without a word, he headed into the bathroom.
She still had on her shirt. She was still hanging off the side of the bed. Awkward.
Savannah stripped off the shirt. Dove for the covers and—
He was back. He moved the covers out of his way, exposing her body to him. Jett slid a warm washcloth between her legs. Used such gentle care. And the expression in his eyes was still the same.
As if I’m the person who matters most to him.
He took the cloth back to the bathroom. When he returned, Jett sat on the side of the bed. She realized that he’d pulled on his pants. He raked a hand over his face and glanced away from her.
Savannah licked her lips. Then she finally asked, “What happened?”
“He’s dead. Patrick Zane was killed by one of his men. Probably the guy who escaped with him the night of your rescue.” A rough sigh. “They killed each other. When we arrived, Patrick was in a pool of his own blood. The fellow who’d knifed him was dead, too.”
Her heart seemed to jerk in her chest.
“Got a team checking Patrick’s computer. Preliminary signs are that Patrick was the mastermind of the kidnapping ring. With his death, it’s over.”
Over.
His hand lifted. Touched her cheek. “You’re safe, Savannah. He won’t ever hurt you a
gain.”
Her shoulders sagged a little as relief hit her. Safe. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder any longer. Didn’t have to fear an attack and wonder when Patrick would come for her.
Over.
But pain was there, too. A hard slice to her heart because if the case was over, then Jett would be leaving. Going on to another mission.
He’d told her that before. Told her this wasn’t forever. And she wasn’t looking for any kind of forever promise. It was just that…
You understand me.
She pushed that thought at him. Because he did. After years of feeling like a freak, she’d finally found someone who could do the same thing she could. Someone who could talk without words to her. Someone who got her.
“I do.” He gave her a tender smile.
Her lips wanted to tremble. “Maybe…maybe I can see you when you’re on leave. That’s what it’s called, right? When you have breaks from other missions.” She knew so little about him. So very little. “Um, we can try all of the ice creams and see which one is your favorite.”
A mask seemed to slip over his face.
“Savannah…”
His closed expression said it all. Hot sex. Mind-numbing pleasure. But when the mission ended, so did they.
And the mission was over. “So it’s done.”
He turned off the lamp. Climbed into the bed with her. Pulled her against him. Held her close, like she mattered.
Just sex. You knew this going in. Just sex.
He hadn’t lied to her. One thing about Jett—he never lied. Considering what her last lover had turned out to be, Savannah valued Jett’s truth more than she could say. Even if it hurt.
“Not quite. It’s not quite done.” His voice rumbled. She could feel the deep vibration because they were so close. “The team wants to make sure there aren’t any loose ends out there. That Patrick didn’t have a silent partner waiting in the wings. The mission isn’t over until we’re sure you’ll be safe.”
So, he wasn’t leaving. Not yet. Though she’d thought they were having awesome good-bye sex. Savannah cleared her throat. “How will you be sure there isn’t a partner?”
“We’ve got a great tech team. They’re following the money now. Money always shows the guilty party. People can be damn greedy.”
Yes. And they could be cold and cruel. She’d learned all of that.
“The team is also sweeping the scene for any additional prints. Any sign that will point to someone else being involved.” His voice had changed. Gone a little flatter.
She couldn’t see his face, not clearly in the darkness. But something was off. “Jett? What is it?”
“The scene was too tidy for me. Both of them dead? Right before we arrived?”
Okay, now she was getting worried. “You think it was a setup?”
He didn’t answer. Wait, was that an answer?
“Jett?” she prompted.
“Nothing at the scene pointed to anyone else being involved. It’s just me, being cautious.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Don’t worry. Like I said, the team is checking things.”
He seemed to have total confidence in his team. “You’re really close to them, aren’t you?” It wasn’t just business.
“Maddox and Luna have been with me since I entered Lazarus. I’d trust them both with my life.”
“Lazarus?”
A slight pause, then he said, “That’s my team.”
Why did she feel like he was holding back on her? Deliberately, she pushed, asking, “And the other guy…Andreas?”
“Don’t know him as well. The Greek isn’t easy to get to know.”
“Ah. He has secrets.”
His lips feathered over her cheek. “We all do, baby. They go with the job.” Another soft kiss. “Andreas has already gone back to base. He won’t be working your case any longer.”
She didn’t think Jett would be working it any longer, either. And that made her heart ache. When he left, she’d miss him. More than she’d expected. The pain was already there, waiting. But for now, they were together. “I’m glad I met you.” She cuddled closer to him. “Whatever else happens, remember that, okay?” He’d literally saved her life. How could she ever regret him? Or anything that had happened with him?
“I’m glad I met you.” Low words. Nice words. But was he just repeating what she’d said? Playing the polite lover game?
Tears pricked her lashes as Savannah closed her eyes. She concentrated on making her breathing nice and even. She’d known he would walk away. She just hadn’t known it would hurt so much.
Soon, sleep pulled at her. The adrenaline high had crashed, and she wanted to escape everything for a little bit. She let go and as she drifted to sleep—
“I just wish I’d met you before I became a monster.”
***
Time to go, Jett.
He hadn’t been sleeping. Jett had just been lying in bed, holding Savannah. The lights were still off, but he saw her perfectly.
Got extraction orders. Maddox’s voice floated through his mind once more. We’re supposed to leave right now.
He didn’t reply. He’d told Maddox that Savannah could pick up on his thoughts, warned the guy not to send any psychic messages his way. But since they were leaving, maybe Maddox figured it didn’t matter any longer.
It did.
Jett brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. She was still sleeping. Maybe he should wake her up. Tell her good-bye. Fuck. Fuck. He didn’t know how to handle this scene, and the worst thing was—
I don’t want to leave her.
He was afraid that if he tried to communicate back with Maddox, he might just tell the guy…tell his friend…Fuck off. Screw Lazarus. I’m done. I only want her.
He wanted a chance with Savannah. Wanted to see what a normal life could be like. Maybe they’d be happy together. Perhaps they could make it work. He wanted her like hell on fire, but more than that…he liked her. He loved her smile. Those damn dimples got him every time. He loved her laugh. And whenever she saw him, she lit up. He’d never forget the way she ran to him when her door opened. Like she was so happy to see him.
And when she hugged him, Jett felt like he was home. Finally, home. She was his home.
No, dammit, no. Lazarus was home. For the time being. Hell, for the foreseeable future. Uncle Sam was the puppeteer pulling the strings. He was the government’s weapon. An unstable weapon. An unstoppable weapon. If Savannah ever learned the truth about him, she’d be terrified.
She wouldn’t want a life with him. She shouldn’t have a life with him. She should be with a normal man. A man who had no secrets. A man who gave her the world.
A man who isn’t a freak.
She wasn’t meant for him. And he couldn’t bring her into the darkness that was his life. He wanted to kiss her good-bye, but if she woke…
We’ve got one more job to do before we leave town. Maddox’s voice was different now. Harder. Then the mission is over.
One more job? He knew exactly what Maddox meant. A personal job that Jett would see to himself. Jett’s muscles tightened as determination filled him. He didn’t want to risk waking her, so he sent out a surge of his psychic power. Shadows swept around him. He became little more than shadow as he eased from the bed. His steps didn’t make a sound as he crossed the room. At the bedroom door, he glanced back at her, helpless not to get that final look.
She was still sleeping. Still perfect. The dream that would haunt him.
He eased from the room. Crept from her home without making a sound. Just a shadow. Just a shadow…
He met Maddox and Luna outside, and they prepared for the last job.
Good-bye, Savannah.
Chapter Nine
A phone was ringing. Pealing, over and over again. Savannah opened one eye, squinting, and for a moment—that first, semi-awake moment—she didn’t even know where she was.
The phone rang again.
Awareness flooded back.
Jett. She sat up in a flash because he wasn’t there. The bed was empty beside her.
The phone stopped ringing.
Her hand reached out for Jett’s pillow. None of his warmth remained. And as her gaze slid around the room, she found no sign of him. Fumbling, she turned on the lamp so that she could see better. No discarded clothing. Nothing. “Jett?”
The phone started to ring again.
She grabbed it, and on the illuminated screen, she saw Sam’s face. It was close to three a.m. Why was Sam calling her at this hour? Her finger swiped over the screen before she put the phone to her ear. “Sam? What is it?”
“Are you alone?”
What kind of question was that?
“Tell me he isn’t there. Tell me you’re safe.”
What? “Yes, yes, I’m safe.” With her left hand, she pulled the covers closer.
“Is Jett there?”
He wasn’t in her bed. Maybe he’d just gone into the kitchen. Or the den. Or—
“If he’s there, you have to get the hell away from him.” Sam’s panting breath carried over the line. “I’ve got cops on the way to you. Barricade yourself in the bathroom until they get there. Just stay the hell away from him.”
Her heart was racing. And her hand had become a fist around the sheets. “What is happening?”
“The real Jett Bianchi is dead. He died on a covert mission and was buried a while back. This guy—this guy and his whole team—they aren’t who they claimed to be. Their papers were BS. They weren’t sent by any government agency. That was all a lie.”
In the distance, she could hear the scream of a siren. The cops that Sam had promised?
“He found out too late.” What sounded like pain roughened his voice. “Dammit, too late! There wasn’t anything I could do. I-I found him this way…”
“Found who?” She slipped from the bed. Kept the sheet wrapped around her naked body as she crept toward her bedroom door. Sam was wrong. Confused. He had to be. Jett had saved her. Protected her. She cracked open the bedroom door, looking for him.
But he wasn’t in the den.
He wasn’t in the kitchen.
“Jett’s not here,” she whispered.
“Thank Christ! I was afraid that after he finished here, he’d gone back for you—”