by Rae Rivers
“Perhaps we should up your bodyguards to two agents when you attend a more public event?” Alex said.
Cole’s eyes flickered with amusement. “You think you can’t handle it on your own?”
Hm, she should have expected that from him. “I can handle it. Just thinking ahead and trying to be prepared, that’s all.”
“You’re my arm candy with a kick, remember? You can handle me.”
“I can handle the press,” she said softly. “As for you, I’m not so sure.” She’d meant to tease him but to her surprise, she found her words had a ring of truth to them. She wasn’t sure if she could handle him—or the chemistry that sparked between them.
“If you can handle a bullet and a cat burglar, I should be a walk in the park.”
“Bullets and cat burglars are familiar to me. You are an entirely new game.”
“I like games.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Dark eyes zeroed in on her and he gave her a slow, predatory smile. “Scared?”
Cat Got Your Tongue?
by
Rae Rivers
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2014 by Rae Rivers
Originally published by Wild Rose Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by AmazonEncore, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonEncore are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
eISBN: 9781503988057
Cover Designer: Rae Monet, Inc. Design
This title was previously published by Wild Rose Press; this version has been reproduced from Wild Rose Press archive files.
Dedication
To Ryan, my gorgeous husband,
and Lisa, my dearest friend.
Two people who know me best.
Thank you both
for all the love, support, and encouragement.
I love you both!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A word about the author...
Prologue
The sound of frantic footsteps echoed through the forest.
Her breathing was rapid, panic threatening to overwhelm her. She ran blindly, brushing away branches with her bruised and scratched arms. She had been running for miles and was near collapsing from exhaustion, but the sound of heavy footsteps behind her edged her forward, one step in front of the other, feeding her will to escape.
To survive.
Her hair was soaked in sweat, streaked with blood from a wound over her right eye. Her face was bruised and swollen. Broken body, she still ran on.
Voices echoed behind her. They sounded closer. Spinning around, she glanced over her shoulder and screamed as she saw one of the men gaining on her.
Run. Run. Run.
Her legs were heavy and her entire body ached. Adrenaline pumped through her, terror oozing from every pore. She glanced back and realized with a sense of defeat that they were catching up to her. She screamed as loud as she could but it was useless as her cries for help fell on deaf ears and the screaming slowed her down. The sound of their wicked laughter echoed behind her. Mocking her. Taunting her.
The distant sound of the ocean breaking on rocks ahead of her rang somewhere in the craziness of the chase.
The ocean? Why the ocean? The ocean is behind me.
She looked around in terror as she ran. The sun had started to set, the light in the forest deteriorating at a rapid rate, making it hard for her to see. The forest was thick and bushy, some places damp. Several burrows were homes to many inhabitants of the forest. For someone not watching their footing, it could prove to be disastrous and she kept a keen eye to the ground in order to avoid them. She ran through several spider webs spun between tree branches becoming more difficult to spot with the pending darkness.
Her heart leapt as she saw that the forest had thinned out to reveal a clearing in front of her.
The road.
A road meant cars and cars meant people. People who could help her and save her from the men who had been chasing her for what felt like hours.
She tripped on a tree root, twisting her ankle. Without crying out, she sprang to her feet and glanced around, knowing her time was almost up. The men were within such close range, she could smell them.
Hot, sweaty bodies. Blood. Rage.
She pushed her way into the clearing as one of the men reached her. He grabbed her arm and she spun around with a force that caught him by surprise.
Sensing his hesitation, she aimed a lethal kick to his groin—a woman’s ultimate defense. With a curse, he released her, and she bolted to the clearing of the forest.
Her scream of disbelief rang long and loud as she stopped and stared in horror. There was no road, only a dead end. She was standing on the cliff at the edge of the forest, staring down at the ocean below her. It was so far away with huge rocks jutting out of the water. The sea was rough and the crash of the waves as the water hit the rocks was deafening, even from the distance she stood.
She’d been running in the wrong direction. Instead of reaching the road where the slightest possibility of help existed, she’d run in the opposite direction and now stood with the ocean looming in front of her, several men closing in on her and the forest behind them. There was so much between her and her safety and survival and she knew it was hopeless.
Oh, God!
She whirled around as the three fierce men, relentless in their pursuit of her, broke through the last of the trees. They did a quick scan of the area and gave a triumphant snicker as they realized the source of horror reflected in her eyes.
There was no escape. She was trapped.
“No, no, no!” she cried, panic taking its destructive grip.
Exhaustion and terror engulfed her and she started to wail—a sick, lonely, and frightened sound that caused the men who had reached her to stop and stare.
One gave an arrogant laugh. “She’s trapped herself.”
“Leave me alone!” she screamed. She stepped backward as they moved forward, arms spread.
They were also bruised, scratched, and bleeding. The fight she had put up, combined with her instinctive determination to protect herself, told its own story reflected on their bodies and faces.
One of the men, dressed in a white shirt splattered with blood from a gaping wound above his eyebrow, pulled out a knife. “You should never have stuck your nose in our business. We warned you. You were told to stay out of it.”
“How could I?”
she cried. “You are all monsters.”
The rustling of bushes behind them made them all look back. A sleek, wealthy businessman, art collector, and her latest lover, walked into the clearing, a gun clasped in his right hand. As he’d let his henchmen do most of the chasing, he didn’t look as worn as they did.
“They’re right, you know,” he said and glared at her with cold, malicious eyes. “You should have done as I told you. I warned you not to ask too many questions and instead of backing away, you try to rob me. A second time.” His tone was venomous, his body heaving with agitation and arrogance.
“I was not trying to rob you,” she protested, desperation twisting her gut. “James, it’s me. Look at me, damn you.” The tears that had been threatening for hours finally came and this time, she didn’t stop them. She had once loved this man without boundaries. “How could you hurt all those people?”
“You’ll never understand. You should never have found out about that.”
Her eyes widened as another thought struck her. “It was you! You were the buyer behind the heist at the museum.”
His smile was slow and evil. “A heist that you botched.”
“Is that why you sought me out? Is that why you invited me here? God, that is what all this is about?” She didn’t need a reply as she could see the truth in his eyes. “I fell in love with you, you ass.”
“Where are the paintings?”
“I don’t know.”
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. “The fence I hired to source them for me said you were the best. Someone with your reputation does not screw up a heist and simply lose two hundred million dollars worth of paintings. That tells me you and your partner fenced them and kept the cash.”
“It didn’t go down like that. I steal the goods and the fence sells them. That’s the way we work.”
“Someone has them and I want them back.”
“Even if I knew, I’d never tell you.”
He delivered the slap across her face with such force that she fell to the ground. “Where did you stash them?”
“I ran. McAllister drove off with them. Find him and ask him.”
“I will and when I do and I’m done with him, you’ll both be dead.” He raised the gun as she struggled to her feet.
“James, don’t do this.” She was hysterical now, pleading for her life and beyond caring that he’d reduced her to begging.
“Now that you know, you’re a liability to me. I can’t trust you anymore. Once a thief, always a thief. Nobody, nobody, steals from me,” he said in a low tone, his words laced with such menace that the other men stopped their snickering. His hand moved over the gun, loading it, and she stepped back.
The edge of the cliff nudged the heels of her feet and a sickening sensation settled itself within her stomach. She glanced over her shoulder at the water crashing against the rocks below and looked back at the man she had once loved with such a passion.
“Please don’t do this.”
He smiled, without amusement, and straightened his arm to aim the gun at her.
She closed her eyes; arms outstretched in surrender, and leaned backward. Suddenly, there was no fear, no desperation. She welcomed death. Death would wipe her slate clean. No men chasing her. No nightmare relationship turned evil. No pain. No deaths.
The shouts of the men above her, the sound of the air racing past her ears, and the roar of the ocean below her, echoed in her ears as she fell.
And she simply didn’t care.
Chapter One
Manhattan, New York
Sunday evening
Alexis Foxley loved attending art auctions.
They made her giddy with delight, the anticipation making her skin tingle and her heartbeat pound. It had to do with the tension in the room combined with the unspoken, yet apparent competition between the wealthy businessmen, women, and celebrities. It was the excitement of the bid, the feeling of awe at the amount of money the guests had to play with, and seeing who would walk away with the prize. Although Alex was usually only a spectator at these events—or arm candy, as some would call it—she always felt a shiver of excitement when an auction approached.
Tonight, however, was the exception. Tonight she wasn’t mere arm candy eyeing out the show. With an alternative motive in mind, she’d manipulated her client, Maxwell Slade, to invite her to the auction as his date.
The shrill sound of the doorbell resonated through her East Side Manhattan apartment and she ignored it, knowing it would be the doorman from the lobby.
She slipped on her black Gucci heels and stole a final glimpse at herself in the mirror. The black Versace gown looked superb and accentuated her body well—a strong, athletic frame, firm breasts with a narrow waist. Although she’d inherited her mother’s petite frame, her career as a female bodyguard and regular workouts at the gym kept her muscles toned. She wore a small diamond necklace around her neck with even smaller matching earrings. She’d pulled her curly black hair into a loose clip at the back of her head, completing her elegant look. Not bad for someone who’d only had twenty minutes to shower and change.
Grabbing her purse, she headed downstairs to meet Max. Despite his age, the older man looked very handsome, his mop of white hair a striking contrast to the dark suit he wore. He stood against the limo door and brightened when he spotted her.
“Hello, darling,” he said and gave her an affectionate kiss on her cheek.
“Hi, Max.” She ducked into the limo and slid over to make space for him. “You look rather dashing tonight. Nice suit.”
Max settled beside her and reaching for her hand, he kissed her fingers, his touch light. “You’re the one that looks dashing, my love.”
“How was your day?” Alex asked, withdrawing her hand. The car started to move and she gazed out the window. She loved this street. The hustle and bustle fed her energy. “Any more problems with Vera?”
Vera, his ex-wife, seemed hell-bent on harassing Max whenever she could. It was the main reason behind his decision to employ Alex, as he needed a buffer between them. As a fit, wealthy, and successful businessman in his sixties, he could still defend himself, but Vera was doing a lot of crazy things lately that made him uneasy. So he’d turned to Alex for help and so far, Vera seemed to be backing down.
Alex owned majority shares in a leading security agency in New York that specialized in executive personal security and safety for the rich and famous. A bodyguard, as she was more commonly known. Her good business sense and reputation, combined with her no-nonsense attitude, had made her company a hot topic amongst the circle of affluent people with whom Max dealt with and more and more of them seemed to be requiring her assistance.
Max tugged at his tie. “Who would’ve thought I’d need to hire a woman to get another woman off my back?”
“At least this woman doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.”
“No,” he teased, “just an arm.”
Alex laughed. “Hey, you got a quote first. You knew beforehand that I don’t do hand-outs.”
“And I’d do it all over again.”
She flashed him a genuine smile. “My protection is billed to you, but my friendship is free.”
Their eyes met and his smile matched hers. She knew that he appreciated their friendship—they both did. And despite their fondness for each other, they both knew that friendship was all they’d ever have. He liked the fact that she was protective of him, which made him feel good—even if that feeling came at a price—and she liked his company.
“Champagne?” he offered, holding up a bottle and two glasses.
“Thanks.” Alex accepted the glass and took a small sip. Tonight she wanted a clear head free from any alcohol-induced euphoria. “You never answered my question about Vera.”
“She’s called a few times, but I’ve avoided her.”
“She can’t like that.” Alex peered out of the window as the car started to slow down.
The auction house, Christie’s, shar
ed the spotlight with Sotheby’s as being one of the main auction houses and it looked magnificent in its grandeur. The photographers were hustling around in anticipation at the entrance, cameras flashing as limos, mostly black and in different sizes, pulled to the curb.
This was something that had always amused Alex even though she had never really cared for the attention. These photographers were so intent on taking pictures of the rich and famous in order to sell their stories and photographs to magazines and newspapers that made a killing on sales the day following an event like this. The public loved to know who’d been where and with whom, almost as if it brought a little excitement to their mundane lives.
“Ready?”
“You look great, old man,” she said with an affectionate smile and allowed him to help her out of the car—even though she felt as though she should be the one helping him. He was after all, twice her age.
Blinding lights from several cameras surrounded them and Alex was quick to usher him inside. Technically, she wasn’t on duty tonight but the instinct to protect this benevolent man was as natural as breathing.
They headed straight to the exclusive bar for a drink and took a seat at the window, grateful for the one-way glass as it gave them a bird’s eye view of the commotion outside but prevented anyone outside from observing them.
“Did you get a call from Coleson Anderson this week?” Max asked after he’d ordered their drinks. “He called for a recommendation from me as to who I use for my personal security.”
“His secretary spoke to Myra and she’s set up an appointment for me to see him on Monday morning.” She paused, a wave of suspicion washing over her. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Max chuckled. “Because I failed to mention to Cole that Alex is indeed, a woman.”
“Come on, Max, you could’ve warned him.”
“Nah, I wanted him to find out for himself.” Max’s eyes danced with amusement and Alex couldn’t help but smile back at him. “He’s probably heard of you anyway, but I couldn’t resist anyhow. Many people you’ve met in the past have made the mistake and assumed that the Alex Foxley of Body Armor is a man. There wouldn’t be room for error if you used your full name, Alexis, my love.”
