“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 bre
ath.

  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.

  Saxon closed the door.

  “She thinks I just had sex with the boss!” Elizabeth’s voice was horrified. “Wait, I did just have sex with the boss!”

  He glanced back at her. “And tonight, when I get you alone, you’ll get the chance to scream for me once more.”

  Her lips parted. “I don’t…the others out there…they don’t know…”

  “Fuck what they know.” On this, they needed to be clear. He stalked back toward her. “You are mine, Elizabeth. And I’m not letting you go.”

  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, rig
ht. 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.