The Hidden Truths Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  Her hand was on my shoulder; her long pink nails a perfect match to her shoes. “I don’t want the company to lose momentum. Just think about it, okay?”

  With my eyes still on her hand, I responded, “Fine.” I stepped back and started to leave.

  “Connor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “See you in Vegas tomorrow.”

  I nodded without turning to face her and escaped through the door, working out the tension in my neck as I strode past cubicles and fluorescent lights. Maybe it wasn’t Lauren I was mad at. Maybe I was still pissed at my father. I didn’t want to be here. He was probably laughing at me from heaven—or hell.

  My secretary, Elsa, stopped me just outside my door. “Connor,” she said, smoothing a hand over her short, white bob, “there is a Miss Taylor in your office.”

  “Taylor?” Shit. That was Olivia’s new last name. My stomach twisted like melted steel. I gripped the knob, surprised by the fact that the door was closed. “Thanks,” I muttered to Elsa and pushed my way in.

  Olivia jumped back from whatever she’d been peering at on my desk and bumped into my chair. Her cheeks brightened, and she forced an awkward smile to her face, exposing her “kill-me-now” dimples.

  Why couldn’t she have gotten ugly in the past ten years? She still had those high cheekbones in her heart-shaped face, the small, straight nose, the full lips I wanted to sink my teeth into . . .

  I was still standing in the doorframe, just staring. As I moved into the room, she pushed her dark hair over her shoulder and stepped around the desk. “Looks like it might storm,” she remarked, placing an envelope on my desk.

  I sucked in a breath as she picked up the red tie I had tossed in the chair in front of my desk. She took a seat, still holding on to my tie, playing with it between her fingers . . .

  I pressed a hand to my desk, trying to ground myself, and squeezed my eyes shut. The last Halloween we’d spent together, she had dressed in a mafia suit and had worn a red tie. Later that night we’d used the tie—

  “Connor?”

  My eyes flashed open. “Why are you here?” I rolled my sleeves to my elbows. It was getting too damn hot.

  She dropped the tie on the edge of my desk, and I thanked God for that, but then she was touching her blouse, and it took all my willpower not to think about her full breasts beneath her silk shirt. “I’m sorry. Declan wanted me to drop off the hotel and club information, and . . .”

  Her attention shifted from the tie to my eyes, and I had to take a step back. Her hazel eyes were full of mourning.

  Did she feel guilty about the past?

  Did it matter?

  “I want to put the past behind us.” Her chest rose and fell with subtle breaths.

  My shoulders arched back as I looked away from her. “If I do business with Declan, we can be civil. We don’t need to talk about the past,” I forced myself to say with a clenched jaw. I sat down in my seat, worried the floor would swallow me if I stood much longer. She had far too much of an effect on me. It wasn’t right.

  “Thank you.” She stood up. “I’m afraid Declan will fire me if he doesn’t think you and I can work together.”

  I deliberated her words, not sure how I felt about lying for her. “I may not like working with you, but I won’t ruin your life.” Not the way you ruined mine.

  But, I couldn’t think like that. Everything happened for a reason, right? If she hadn’t screwed me over, I would never have joined the Marines. I might have ended up a replica of my father, the thought of which made me physically ill.

  “Friends?” There was a slight wobble to her bottom lip as she regarded me with a somber expression.

  Her hand was in the air, outstretched over my desk. “Sure,” I said as I tried to digest my strange emotions. I finally took her hand as I stood. The warmth of her skin, and the feel of her hand in mine created a strange sharp pain in the pit of my stomach—an all too familiar haunting pain.

  Still holding her hand, my eyes snapped shut, and I swallowed, almost choking on the desert heat of the Middle East. Memories ripped through my mind: the IED tearing a chunk out of my platoons Hummer, my face buried in sand, my body broken and bruised . . . My friend’s wail as he tried to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place.

  “Connor?” Olivia’s voice had me shooting back to the present, safe within the four walls of my office.

  My eyes opened in dismay. “Shit. Sorry.” I released my grip on her hand and watched as she rubbed her one hand with the other. And instead of offering some lame excuse, like normal, I said, “I was thinking of Iraq.”

  Her lips parted but then closed. I was pretty sure she had no idea what to say, so I helped her out. “You remind me of the blistering Iraq heat—easy to get burned.”

  She lowered her eyes to the floor as her hands slipped to the sides of her cream-colored pants. “See you in Vegas,” she said with a flat, emotionless voice.

  God, what was wrong with me? “You still afraid of flying? Of heights?” I found myself asking with no clue as to why.

  “No,” she said as her eyes landed on mine. Her head angled and her lips parted. “Well, maybe a little.” A moment of tension rocked the room between us, and she turned away.

  I burned a hole in her back as she left my office. How could I let her get to me after all our history? It was like the last ten years were a dream, and I was a twenty-two-year-old kid in love again.

  But I had been naïve. And I had no intention of being duped again.

  8

  Connor

  The bullet pierced the target, and I peered through the sight. I had nailed the paper figure in the head, from six hundred meters away.

  “There’s not much left to that paper.” Ben removed his sunglasses and tipped his head in my direction. “You all right?”

  Still kneeling, I aimed and took one last shot. “Everything’s wrong.” I stood up and squinted at him, the desert sun burning my eyes. I could feel it turning my tan skin darker.

  “Here, man.” Ben reached into the cooler for a bottle of Corona and popped the top off.

  “Thanks.” I set my rifle down and swallowed the chilled gold liquid. “This is a nice place you have.” Ben was a couple years younger than me, but we’d been in the Marines at the same time. He had been in a different unit, but our paths had crossed during training and in Iraq. I tried to remain close to my fellow veterans since I’d been out of the military. We needed each other if only to be sure we all kept sane.

  “Thank you.” He scratched the black stubble on his jaw and his light green eyes focused on mine as he hopped up onto the back of his truck bed. “Twenty acres of absolute nothing. Told you my place was better than a gun range.”

  “You happy here? Working as private security?” I reached for my shades and leaned against the side of his truck, taking another sip.

  “Yeah. It’s okay. I’m not a huge fan of protecting big wigs with a lot of money, though.” He smirked at me. “Although now it seems you’re a big shot, too. How come you never told me your father was some rich businessman?” He raked a hand through his black hair.

  I shook my head and kicked my boot at the dirt. “I’m not like him.” I released a breath. “I was wild in college, partying and throwing his money around.” Then I met Olivia. You bring out the wild in me. You make me feel so alive. And I never want us to end, she once told me.

  But it did end.

  “Connor?”

  “Anyways,” I choked out the word, my mind moaning and protesting the memories which assaulted and battered my brain, “the Marines changed me, and I realized having bricks of money isn’t my thing.”

  He released a deep, throaty laugh. “Well, shit. Money isn’t the problem. It’s what you do with it that can be.” He reached for his baseball hat and put it on. “But I know what you mean. When I was recruited to play for the Dodgers, I totally let the fame and money go to my head.” He took another sip of his Corona. “I’m almost glad I blew my shoulder o
ut.”

  “I always forget I’m friends with a famous athlete,” I joked.

  “Well, now I’m friends with a billionaire.”

  “Hell, the company might be worth a lot, but I’m not. And it’s just temporary.” Thank, God. I was almost ready to display a countdown clock in my office. The time when Mason came home couldn’t come soon enough.

  “When’s Mason’s tour over?”

  “Just over five months.” Too. Damn. Long.

  “What will you do after he takes over?”

  “Same as before.” I pushed away from the truck and set my Corona on the ground before reaching for my rifle.

  “You liked that life?”

  I thought about Lydia, the girl I’d rescued almost a month ago. “Yeah.”

  “What about a love life? You ever going to settle down?” He jumped off the truck bed and stepped up behind me as I kneeled on the ground.

  I once thought about it. Olivia’s name tickled my throat. “I’ll settle down the day you do,” I answered instead.

  “I’m living in Vegas. That’s never going to happen.” He laughed.

  “Then I guess you have your answer.” I fired off a round and waited until the bullet tore through the target, destroying it completely. “Wanna come to the grand opening of a club tonight?” I’d almost forgot why I was in Vegas.

  “Sure. Need a wingman?”

  God, just the opposite. I needed a shield.

  Olivia

  It didn’t matter how crowded the casino was—he was impossible to miss. With his back to me, I took note of the silvery-gray suit he wore instead of his usual jeans and T-shirt.

  The frantic beeping of the slot machines matched my heartbeat pound for pound as I crossed the room.

  A woman with long, blonde hair pressed her hand to Connor’s back, which had me stopping about ten feet shy of the table.

  I didn’t see Lauren anywhere, but she might have already met up with Declan.

  Blowing out a nervous breath, I closed the distance between myself and Connor and cleared my throat.

  The blonde turned, and her dark green eyes narrowed on me. She kept her hand on his back as she tilted her head up, letting me know he’d been claimed.

  “Connor?” His shoulders flinched. The woman’s hand dropped to her side as her red lips pursed together. “Hi.” I smoothed a hand over my black dress.

  His green eyes settled on my mouth once he faced me, and his chest swelled. “Olivia. How are you?” The deep timber of his voice made my core clench.

  “Good. Declan sent me for you.”

  “Give me a minute.” He turned back to the table as if unable to stand the sight of me and slid a stack of chips to the double zero. What was he thinking? That had to be twenty grand.

  “Looks like you’ve figured out what to do with your father’s money.” Shit, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  “It’s my money,” he was quick to respond.

  “Same thing, right?” Damn. Damn. Damn. I needed to stop.

  He was clearing his throat, his back still to me. “My money from before. My job paid well.” He shook his head. “Not that I need to explain myself to you.”

  “Double zero!”

  Some kind of luck.

  The woman placed her hand on his arm. “Nice!”

  Connor turned to me, ignoring the woman who swooned over him as large denomination chips were pushed his way. “I don’t plan on keeping my father’s money. Or the business. FYI.” There was grit in his voice.

  Maybe he wouldn’t make a deal with Declan, after all. “Really?” I tried to sound disappointed. Angling my head down, I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. I had to play the part.

  “Okay if my friend comes to the club?”

  I blew out a breath and looked over at the woman. She stared back at me, and her eyes went round, her plump injected lips curving into a smile.

  “My friend, Ben, lives in Vegas. I invited him. Hope that’s okay?”

  The temptation to smirk at the woman faded as Connor took a step closer to me, pushing all the oxygen from the room. “No problem.”

  Connor turned to the woman. “Have a good night.”

  I couldn’t hide a smile as we left her behind. “How was your flight? Mine didn’t have any turbulence.” Thank God. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of making small talk with him, but I’d give it a shot.

  He glanced down at me from over his shoulder. He was tall—more than half a foot taller than my five foot seven, and his broad shoulders made me feel that much smaller. I combed my fingers through my hair, and realized that could be considered flirtatious . . . but I didn’t mean it like that. Did I?

  “The flight was fine.” He was cold. Hard. Icy, even. The muscle in his square jaw tightened as we walked.

  Why was he so angry with me? I had every right to hold a grudge for the way he’d abandoned me, but what in the hell was his excuse?

  I needed to focus. He was a job now.

  “Does your boss always do business like this?” he asked as we weaved our way to The Phoenix. He must’ve already scoped out the location—the hotel was a maze.

  I shrugged. “I guess so.” How much did Connor know about Declan? I couldn’t believe that Connor would ever do business with a criminal. Of course, on paper, Declan appeared to be a legit businessman. I couldn’t exactly enlighten Connor on the truth through.

  What if Connor blew my cover?

  Even after all these years, it was hard to turn off the switch on my feelings. We’d been together for a year. Still, that was the longest relationship of my life.

  We stopped for a minute on our way to the club. “Let me text my friend,” he said. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hands as he tapped at his iPhone. Those hands had once touched every inch of my body . . .

  I didn’t know I was biting my lip until I saw Connor staring at my mouth. Something dark—dangerous, even—lurked behind his eyes. “You ready?” I checked the silver Movado on my wrist. It was half past eleven.

  “Yeah.”

  We bypassed the line and headed through the lobby of the club, which was lit only by black lights. I nodded to the two men standing guard outside the two elevators. I halted just in front of them and turned to face Connor, but he must not have been paying attention—he plowed right into me. My back pushed up against the closed elevator doors, and he sucked in a breath as his hand braced against the door.

  I shot him an apologetic look.

  He stared down at me, and even in the dim light, his eyes flickered.

  “You okay, Miss Taylor?” Seth, one of the bodyguards, asked.

  Connor kept his eyes on mine as he took a step back, giving me room to breathe. I could vaguely hear a few of the women in line nearby: “Hot.” “Sexy.” “So fuckable.” I couldn’t disagree.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Seth.” I swallowed, looking back at Connor. “What’s the name of your friend? So I can put him on the list.” I rubbed my semi-sweaty palms against the sides of my dress and wondered whether my chest had grown overnight. Or perhaps the dress had shrunk. It was far too snug tonight.

  “Ben Logan,” Connor said, directing his attention to Seth.

  Seth leaned forward. “Looking fine tonight, Liv. You put these girls to shame,” he whispered, jerking a thumb at the line behind him.

  Connor’s jaw tightened as his eyes focused on Seth, like Seth was a predator I needed protection from. It was enough to make me laugh. Connor was far more dangerous to me than Seth could ever be.

  Connor’s hand touched my elbow, and he motioned when the elevator doors chimed and opened. “Ready?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

  Blinking a few times, I followed him in. “There’s plenty of room,” I said to Seth.

  Seth held up his hand and shook his head while groans slipped from the lips of women in line. “Just you two.”

  After the doors had closed and we began our fifty-one story trek up to the club, Connor said, “You should think twic
e before wearing a dress like that to work.” His voice was rasping, hoarse.

  My lips parted as my eyes grew wide. Who the hell did he think he was? Our gaze met in the mirrored elevator doors. “And I think you should keep comments like that to yourself,” I hissed.

  He took a step back and turned away from me, looking out the glass wall as the lights of the city shrank below. “Nice view.” He tucked his hands in his slacks pockets.

  I all but jumped out of the elevator once it opened. “Declan’s waiting outside.”

  “Outside?”

  “Yeah. There are two dance areas, but the best one is on the rooftop.” I tried to ignore the uptick in my pulse and began down the dark, narrow hall, which was lit only by the flickers of phoenix-from-the-flames drawings. I welcomed the fresh air as we stepped out on the patio of the nightclub, which was nestled at the top of the hotel.

  “Nice place.”

  I stole a look at Connor out of the corner of my eye. He was checking the place out, probably as enamored with the club like everyone else.

  The DJ was spinning hip-hop and the stripper pole in the middle of the dance floor was sans stripper . . . for now. “This way.”

  Connor’s eyes remained on the crowd, a mesh of bodies smacking against each other to the music, some dancing well, others rhythmically-challenged.

  To get into the club, people have to be invited. Even those waiting in line downstairs were on the list to get in. This wasn’t just for the grand-opening, Declan planned to maintain the hyper-exclusivity of the place.

  It took me a moment to find Declan, but as I scanned the room, I spotted him tucked away in one of the VIP booths off to the side of the bar, with Lauren standing at attendance. My stomach lurched at the sight of her, and I wasn’t sure why. As we approached the booth, Connor trailing a few painful steps behind, I noticed that Lauren’s barely-there red lace dress looked like it was pasted on her body. Was this her business casual attire?

  “Declan. Lauren.” I fixed a smile on my face as we stopped near the booth.

  Declan scooted out and rose to his feet, dressed in a tailored, three-piece retro brown suit. He looked sharp. Lethal.