by Cynthia Eden
Jay laughed. “Yeah, that happens in the mornings.”
Normal reaction. Nothing to do with her. A guy thing. An unfortunate guy thing, but—
“I’ve wanted you for a while, but I’ll never do anything you don’t want.” He rose from the bed, stretching himself. “Think I’ll go take a cold shower. Meant to have one last night, but couldn’t bring myself to leave you that long.”
And that was it. He walked past her and headed for the door. Her hand flew out, but she stopped herself, not touching him, vividly recalling everything that she’d done and he’d said the night before. “I’m sorry.”
At the bedroom door, he glanced back at her.
“About Emeline. I’m so sorry you lost her.”
His expression hardened. “Thank you.”
She wanted to say something that would comfort him. But she didn’t know how to comfort. She only knew how to make someone’s fears worse. How to drive a person to the brink of sanity. So she didn’t speak again, and Jay walked away. The door shut softly behind him.
When he was gone, Willow let out the breath that she’d been holding. She found herself returning to the bed. Her fingers reached out and touched the pillow he’d used.
He’d stayed with her.
That mattered, didn’t it?
She was pretty sure it did.
I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up.
Chapter Four
“I’m not going to keep a low profile,” Willow announced that night as she marched into Jay’s study. She found him dressed in a suit, looking drop dead sexy with his hair pushed back, and his collar turned up. “You aren’t leaving me at home tonight.”
Jay sighed. West stood at his side, and the guy smothered a laugh. “Told you. No way you’re leaving without her.”
“Willow.” Jay gave her a smile. She found it fake. “You were shot last night—”
“But you were the one being shot at,” she interrupted him curtly. “Not me. And if you’re going out because you think you can attract the shooter’s attention again, if you think you’re going to be the bait, then you’re taking me with you.”
His jaw hardened. “I’m going to the opening of a club. And I’m only doing it because I need the media to see that I don’t hide from anyone. If the person gunning for me wants me, then he’ll need to get his ass out there and come for me. Sawyer and Flynn will be there, they’ll both be looking for the shooter. Searching for anyone who doesn’t belong. We’ll have the super soldier aspect more than covered.”
Her eyes narrowed. He was saying he didn’t need her. Bull. “Sawyer and Flynn are great.” Flynn Haddox was another super soldier who’d been put inside Project Lazarus. The first time she’d met him, well, that little meet and greet hadn’t gone so well. Mostly because she’d been told he was the enemy. That he wanted her dead.
The man who’d told her that particular lie? Bryce King? He’d turned out to be an absolute psychopath who wanted to use her for his own agenda.
A liar she couldn’t trust.
She had a tendency to put her trust in the wrong places. No, in the wrong people. And that was why she couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow herself to trust Jay. “They’re great,” she added with a nod, “but they aren’t me.” She marched toward him, aware that the sleek, red dress she’d put on felt way too tight against her skin. Body-hugging to the extreme, but it was the look she’d need for this particular club.
Jay’s gaze dropped to the dress. To her body. He swore.
“The media is in a frenzy.” A quick glance online had shown her that. “Someone at the police department leaked the news about me being your bodyguard. If you go out and I’m not with you tonight, what do you think that will do? Won’t they just start up with the stories again about me being hurt? Dead?” Willow didn’t give him a chance to answer. “But if I show up at your side, those stories will stop.”
West scratched the back of his neck. “She has a point.”
“You aren’t helping,” Jay immediately groused at him.
West just laughed as he lifted his hands, palms out, toward him. “My mistake.” But he winked at Willow. West was also dressed in a suit. One that fit his muscled body perfectly. Jay and West both always looked like, well, money.
Because they were.
Absolutely rich.
While she had nothing. Jay had bought her everything she had in her closet upstairs. All that she had. It was time she started paying him back. “I want the job for real.”
Jay lifted one brow. His right index finger began to tap against his leg. “What job?”
She’d thought about this all day. Now Willow smiled at him. “The job of your bodyguard.”
He stopped tapping his finger.
West let out a laugh, but quickly smothered it when Jay glared at him.
“It’s not funny,” Willow announced, just so they were all clear. “You both know I’m more than capable of doing the job.”
“Oh, I wasn’t laughing at the idea, Willow. I promise, I wasn’t.” West’s voice was gentle. “I was laughing because I know Jay isn’t going to be able to find a way out of this one.” He straightened his shoulders and his voice sharpened as he added, “Jay, as your head of security, I think you absolutely need a twenty-four, seven bodyguard. In light of the attempt made on your life last night, this is another security measure that I feel is necessary for your safety—”
“Screw off, West,” Jay growled at him. “You’ve already got five new bodyguards on me. I know they’re going to be tailing me tonight.”
West shrugged. “Yes, but they’re just, well, not Willow.”
Her chest warmed. “I’m the best. I can stay at your side and no one will—”
“Everyone already thinks you two are sleeping together,” West tossed out.
Willow’s lips parted. Her cheeks heated. They had slept together. They just hadn’t actually had sex.
“The story is everywhere online. ‘Tech guru falls for hot bodyguard.’” West strolled around the room. “It was your face that gave things away, buddy. After the shot was fired. Reporters were snapping pics, hell, anyone with a phone was taking pics, and apparently, your expression was quite revealing.”
“Screw. Off,” Jay ordered again.
West just laughed.
She wasn’t sure what West meant about Jay’s expression. She’d been bleeding all over him, so she figured the guy must have looked horrified as hell.
“It’s settled.” West clapped his hands together. “Willow will stay at your side because she can keep your ass safe, and we can continue trying to draw out Wyman. Not much has changed, except,” now his gaze sharpened, “another one of Jay’s enemies has come out from the woodwork.”
“Give us a minute alone,” Jay said. His face was locked in angry lines. “Now.”
West shrugged. “The cars are waiting. I’ll be in the lead vehicle. You take the second one. Don’t linger here too long. You two can have a private talk in the limo.”
He gave a salute and strolled out.
Jay put his hands on his hips as he focused all of his attention on Willow. “You took a bullet last night.” He stalked toward her. “Maybe you should just sit this one out. Did you consider that? That instead of getting right back into the line of fire you should, oh, I don’t know, take the damn night off?” His eyes glittered.
She tilted back her head as she stared at him. “You’re not taking the night off.”
“I’m—shit, no, I’m just going to a club, okay? Blowing off some steam.”
That was total crap. “You’re trying to find the shooter. You figure that if someone wants you dead bad enough to take a shot at you, then that person might be tailing you. You’re luring him to the club because you’ll have your men there—and I’m betting you’ve already talked to the club’s owner, haven’t you? You got him to make sure all the cameras were working, that his crew was monitoring the scene for you.”
His lashes flickered. “I have been
talking to Benjamin Larson. And do you really think he wants you to just sashay your sweet ass into his new club?”
The name made her flinch. Benjamin Larson. “You’re going…to-to the crime boss’s club?”
“Push opens tonight. Since I helped finance the place, I figured I should show up. I’m half-owner.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Part of my whole atoning bit, if you must know. After you made Larson see his personal hell at Sin, I figured I owed him.”
Sin. Another club owned by Benjamin Larson. A club in which she and Benjamin had experienced a rather unfortunate encounter.
Her cheeks had gone cold. “I had to do that. I was trying to help. Trying to stop Bryce from killing people.”
“I know that.” Jay shrugged. “Doesn’t mean Benjamin is particularly forgiving of what you did to him.”
She exhaled. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going. I’m your new bodyguard, whether you like it or not.” Why was he fighting this?
He stepped even closer to her, his body nearly brushing against hers. “Fine, but don’t you dare get shot. Don’t you bleed. Don’t you hurt. Not for me, do you understand?”
His voice had been low and rough, and it seemed to sink right past her skin.
“Not for me,” he said again.
He was going to let her take the job. Willow didn’t let her joy show, instead, she notched up her chin. “We should probably discuss my fee,” Willow announced crisply, not responding to the words he’d said.
“Fuck me.” His eyes squeezed closed. “I’ll pay you anything you want.”
Considering he had limitless resources, Willow figured she’d better come up with a nice, fat number for him.
“Just don’t get hurt.” His eyes opened. For an instant, she felt absolutely burned by the heat of his stare. “Because if your blood is on my hands again, you’ll see that Lazarus subjects aren’t the only ones who can lose control.”
***
Jay could feel the eyes on him. The stares. The cameras. The people calling out to him—it was like a swirl of energy as he exited the limo and strode toward the entrance to Push.
Push…Benjamin Larson’s new club. The place to be in D.C. The guy tied to far too many criminals wanted to be seen as legit, and since Jay owed the guy…he was making this appearance at the big, grand opening event.
His new bodyguards—the guards that West had hired—trailed around him and Willow. And Willow, damn, but she looked hot. He didn’t even remember buying that dress. It fit her like a second skin, and with her dark hair and olive skin…
Sweet hell.
The neckline plunged, revealing the perfect swell of her breasts. He kept trying to keep his eyes off her breasts. Kept trying to play the role he’d been given.
But he just wanted to grab her and take Willow far, far away from that scene. From all of the eyes, all of the cameras.
“Hey, sexy bodyguard!” A male voice shouted. “Give us a few minutes!”
Jay’s head turned to the left. He recognized the reporter from one of the online tabloids—a place that was always profiling celebrities—loving to catch singers and actors and the rich and famous in spots of scandal. Jay’s arm curled around Willow’s side, and he pulled her against him. “Ignore them all. We’ll be inside soon,” he spoke the low words against her ear, and she shivered.
From the cold? Because of all the attention she was getting?
Or because of something else?
“A shooter fired into a crowd yesterday.” Her voice was a soft breath of sound. “Shouldn’t everyone be worried?”
Yeah, they damn well should be. But cops were everywhere. Private security was hidden in the crowd. This time, they were on guard. “You sensing anything?”
She gave a negative shake of her head.
Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as they strode into Push. VIPs only for opening night—the club would open to everyone else the next day. So when they went inside, the place was filled with money. You could practically smell it dripping in the place. Women with perfectly styled hair and dresses that displayed their bodies to tempting degrees mingled with men in suits who stood with studied casualness. Waiters and waitresses poured out the champagne in mass quantities, while a well-known pop star sang on stage.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
Jay stiffened when he heard that low, gruff voice. He also grabbed a champagne flute from a waitress and drained that shit fast. Then he faced the speaker, his host for the night.
Benjamin Larson.
“Place is killer.” Jay saluted the guy with his empty champagne glass. “Congratulations.”
Benjamin growled. He was also in a suit, but the guy didn’t carry himself with the easy grace and wealth of the others in Push. Instead, the fellow looked like trouble. Jay wondered how he managed that feat. An interesting talent.
“The club isn’t the one who’s killer.” Benjamin’s hard stare was on Willow. “Seriously, what the fuck is she doing here?”
Willow took a step toward the other man.
“Stop right there.” Benjamin pointed at her. “You might be sexy as all hell, but you are never getting touching close to me again.” He bared his teeth in a cold smile. “I like to keep my nightmares in my head, thank you very much.”
Jay saw Willow’s cheeks flame. “I was helping—”
“Right. Yeah, I get that I was in your way and you were trying to save the day back then and all that jazz.” Now he waved his hand vaguely. “But I don’t care about saving the day. And I tend to hold very, very long grudges.”
“Enough.” Jay moved in front of Willow. “She’s with me. I own half this club, so she’s staying. And I don’t give a shit if you have a problem with that or not.” He kept a congenial smile on his face for the folks who were watching. “You wanted to be seen as legit? I’m your ticket to that. So try being nice to my companion.”
Benjamin just smirked. “Don’t you mean your bodyguard?”
Willow’s fingers pressed to Jay’s back.
Benjamin’s smirk vanished. “Careful there. Or she’ll have you seeing hell, too.”
Did he look worried? “Been there, done that. Without her touch. I see hell plenty well enough on my own.”
But Benjamin just laughed. “What would a pampered SOB like you know about hell?”
A sister dying in my arms. Me, sleeping on the streets. No shoes, no food. Rain pouring down. A hunger that never ends. “Go mingle with the patrons. We’ll be upstairs.” The better to watch everyone else. To peer into the crowd and see if any faces stuck out at him.
Benjamin offered his hand to Jay. Jay just stared at it.
“For the people watching.” Benjamin’s hand didn’t move. “Got to let them know what good buddies we are.”
Jay took the guy’s hand. Squeezed it a bit harder than necessary. “For future reference, Willow is always welcome wherever I am.”
Benjamin studied him a moment, then said, “Poor bastard,” before pulling his hand away and laughing as he left.
Jay watched him a moment. “I think that man may have a few issues.” A lot of issues. “Maybe he should see a shrink. I know a good one.” He glanced over his shoulder at Willow. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Her cheeks were still red. Benjamin had hurt her feelings. Or he’d embarrassed her. Maybe he’d done both. “I should have slugged the bastard.” Next time, he would. Screw the eyes watching them. He caught Willow’s hand in his and escorted her toward the stairs. “Let’s get out of the crowd.” Because all of the men there were staring at Willow with lust in their eyes. And Willow—how much of that did she pick up on?
The Lazarus subjects had psychic powers. She could pick up on fears. She could make fears a reality. Could she read minds, too? Pick up on the lust of others? On the darkness people kept bottled inside? Willow wasn’t exactly the forthcoming sort when it came to sharing her paranormal gifts.
Two bouncers were blocking the stairs, but when they saw Jay approaching, they
immediately took down the velvet rope and waved him upstairs. The carpet on the stairs was thick, lush, and it swallowed his steps. In moments, he and Willow were in the VIP room. The boss’s room. They were staring through the one-way glass at the men and women downstairs. Watching as they drank, flirted, danced, and left every inhibition they had at the door.
Push. Benjamin thought he was clever with the name. You can’t push your way inside.
Push yourself to the limits.
Push past the fear.
Push all your desires to the surface.
The guy had told him all that shit. Then said the club had to be called Push.
Jay slid his fingers along Willow’s inner wrist as he gazed down at the crowd.
“Why are you still touching me?”
A few faces looked familiar. A little too familiar. Especially the pretty redhead down there. He winced as he kept his gaze on the woman he knew too well. “Because I like to touch you. You feel like silk.” He let her go. “But if you don’t want me to hold you, then I won’t.”
“Benjamin Larson hates me.”
“Yeah, well, most people think he’s a dick, so don’t exactly lose sleep over that.” The redhead was glaring up at the VIP area. She’d obviously seen him climb the stairs. He leaned closer to the glass as he spied another familiar figure. A rival who just hadn’t been able to beat Jay to the punch on the last big launch. They’d been working on similar tech products for Uncle Sam, but Jay had gotten the job done faster, better, and for half the cost.
“Your heart rate has increased.” Her voice was tense. “Is something wrong?”
“Just saw a few familiar faces in the crowd.” He pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text to West. “Some folks who might not be particularly pleased with me.”
“People who want you dead?”
He shrugged. “People who don’t exactly like me.”
“Do you…lose sleep over that?”
Jay blinked. He put the phone back in his pocket and glanced at Willow. “Business can be hard. I make decisions that impact a lot of people. They’re not easy decisions. When my products work, it usually means someone else’s don’t. And my success can mean another company becomes obsolete. That’s jobs lost. People’s lives changed. So, yeah, I lose some sleep.” He motioned toward the well-stocked bar that waited to the left, taking up the entire wall. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I want to see what West and the others learn downstairs.”
