by Cynthia Eden
His mouth hitched up. “You made it through the first night. Dammit. I’m going to lose my bet with Remy.”
She blinked.
“Didn’t think you would. I mean, you come in here, looking like some well-bred debutante, and carrying a total BS resume. You’re fragile as shit. I think a strong wind would knock you down. I take one look and say, no way does this woman belong in my world.” His gaze slid over her. “No way.”
His words pissed her off. “You don’t know me.”
“You look like a lost princess. Shouldn’t you be in some fancy world full of ball gowns and ballerinas? I mean, that is what you did, right? Dance?”
Pain was a thick knot in her stomach. “My parents died when I was fifteen years old. The life I’d had then died with them.” She didn’t know why he was grilling her, but she was going to give him the truth, then he’d better back the hell off. “A debutante? No, I was on the street.”
Now his gaze jerked to hers.
“There was no family to take me in. Foster kids at fifteen? We’re not exactly scooped up by willing families. We’re automatically labeled as ‘special needs’ because of our ages. I got sent to a group home. I got locked away there until I turned eighteen, and the minute I did, I was on the street. Gladly on the street.” She’d hated that group home and the icy cold that always seemed to consume the place. “I waited tables every single day. And night. I know how to do this job. I don’t need some jerk like you giving me a hard time because—”
He rose to his feet. “I’m sorry.”
Why did he sound so sincere?
Kace stalked to her side. He stood near her, and as crazy as it seemed, Bree could have sworn that his pose was…protective.
“I’m sorry about your parents.” And there was sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry that you lost the life you had with them. I said you were a princess because that is what you fucking remind me of. A woman who should be showered with presents. Someone who should be protected and treasured.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t need anyone else protecting me.” She could do that job just fine on her own.
“My mistake.” His eyes gleamed. “I think I misjudged you.”
“It happens a lot.” She was always being underestimated, and normally, it didn’t bother her. She did her job, and she proved them wrong. She had waited tables when she’d left that group home. She’d worked her way through college. Graduated at the top of her class. Gotten into the FBI. All on her own. All without anyone’s help or protection.
She wasn’t looking for some white knight. Hell, no. And even if she had been…that role would never go to a man like Kace Quick.
“It won’t happen again,” he told her softly. “There is far more to you than meets the eye.”
He had no idea.
“And what about you?” Time to do her job. “Are you just the criminal or is there more to you?”
His smile had her breath catching. “Sweet Bree. Since we’re both being so incredibly honest with one another, there are a few things you need to realize about me.” He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel the warmth of his body all around her. “First, I don’t like the word ‘criminal.’ It implies I’m breaking laws. And, since I’m not in a jail…” His sentence trailed off. “Well, I’m obviously a law-abiding citizen. So, let’s not use insulting labels with each other, hmm?” His eyes twinkled a bit, and she could have sworn he was laughing at her.
“My bad,” she said, and her words indicated that clearly, it wasn’t her bad.
“Next up, I’m not some horrible monster. I have never hurt anyone in this world. At least, not anyone who did not deserve the pain that was coming to him.”
What kind of confession was that?
“I have friends, and I have enemies. You never want to be one of my enemies.”
“What happens to your enemies?” Her voice had gone even softer.
He stepped closer. His body almost brushed against her. “Any fucking thing I want.”
Her heart was pounding too fast in her chest. “And your friends?”
“I take care of them. I protect them.”
“I already told you—I don’t need protection.”
“Maybe you don’t. Not today. But if that should change…”
She had no idea what the guy meant. Nothing was going to change. Except she might find evidence to toss his ass in jail. With that in mind… “What happens to your lovers?”
His head tilted. His pupils seemed to expand.
“I heard about the friends and the enemies. What about the lovers?”
His hand lifted. Cupped her cheek. “Trust me, sweetheart, my lovers never have complaints.”
“So much arrogance,” she muttered. “And you need to stop calling me sweetheart.”
He smiled. “It’s not arrogance. It’s honesty.” Then he winked. Winked.
“I cannot figure you out.” Absolute truth. “You are not what I expected.”
“Then maybe we were both wrong.” His hand dropped.
Why did she immediately miss his warmth?
He turned his back on her. Headed toward a closet to the right.
“You need to learn to tell people good-bye,” she groused. “When a conversation is over, tell the person.”
He opened the closet, but angled to frown back at her. “What are you talking about?”
“A moment ago, you just hung up on the person you were talking with on the phone.”
“Because I was done with that jackass.”
She wondered who the jackass had been. “And right now, you just walked away from me. If you’re done with our chat and I’m free to go, tell me—”
“I’m not done with you.” He pulled out a helmet from the closet. “I was just getting you safety gear.” Taking his time, he returned to her. Then he pushed the gleaming, black helmet into her hands. “You ride?”
“No.” Never.
“That’s okay. I’ll be driving. All you have to do is hold on.”
“I am not getting on a motorcycle with you.” She shoved the helmet back at him.
Kace didn’t take it. “You walked here for your shift. It’s four a.m. You seriously think I’m going to let you walk back to your place at this hour? What kind of boss would I be if I did that?”
“You are not giving all your staff members a ride on your motorcycle.”
“No, tonight, it’s just you. Because you’re the one who walked here alone.”
Okay. Why was she fighting him? For her cover, she needed him close. But… “You’re dropping me at the door. I don’t want you getting ideas. You’re not sleeping with me.”
He laughed.
She was starting to find his laugh sexy. That was a problem. Her eyes narrowed at him.
“What is it?” Kace asked.
“Swear to me. Swear to me right now that you did not kill those two women I saw on the news.”
All traces of humor left his face.
“Because the cops think you did it. The media is running wild with the story. And now you’re asking me to hop onto a motorcycle and ride off into the night with you.” She shook her head. “I need some kind of reassurance here.” If she weren’t working a case, no way in hell would she get on the motorcycle with a man like him.
“I swear to you,” his gaze held hers, no wavering at all, “that I did not kill Lindsey or Ciara. But when I find out who did kill them…” His jaw hardened. “You don’t want to know what I’ll do. They were good women. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.”
“No one deserves that,” she whispered back. “No one deserves to feel that much fear before death. To have some bastard take your life away.”
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I’m seeing you home safely tonight. All of my staff members are taking precautions. Leaving with someone they trust, leaving in pairs. The tourists packed my bar tonight because half of them wanted the thrill of being in a would-be killer’s club.”
She still
held the helmet. “And the other half?”
“They just love a good show.”
Bree bit her lower lip.
“Trust me,” he rasped. “I’ll take care of you.”
Her shoulders rolled back. “It’s not my home, okay?” She turned and headed for the door. “It’s just a place I’m staying at in town. A bed and breakfast. I told you that during my interview.” She hadn’t been in a real home, not in a very long time.
“Bree?”
He was behind her. She felt his hand brush her shoulder. She wouldn’t stiffen. Would not. But she glanced back at him.
“Trust me,” he said again.
She didn’t reply. A few moments later, they were heading out the back of the club. A motorcycle was parked nearby. Remy waited there, glancing around the dark alley. When he saw them, he appeared to do a double-take.
“Ah, boss…” Remy began.
“I’m taking Bree home. I’ll check in tomorrow.” He climbed onto the bike. Had the engine revving hard and fast.
Bree held tighter to the helmet.
Remy was watching her. Was that suspicion in his eyes? It was so dark that it was hard to tell for certain.
Kace extended his hand toward her. “Put on the helmet, sweet—uh, Bree.”
He’d stopped calling her sweetheart.
She put on the helmet. Squared her shoulders. Then she reached for his hand. His fingers curled around hers, and the electric shot of desire was there again. A surge of need that leapt between them. She didn’t know what the hell that was about. Unexpected. Unwanted. But so very, very strong.
Bree straddled the motorcycle. She locked her arms around Kace’s waist.
Trust me. His words played through her mind again. And as they shot through the darkness, Bree thought…
No way.
There was no way in hell she could ever trust a man like Kace Quick.
Chapter Four
Kace braked the motorcycle in front of the small bed and breakfast in the French Quarter. Bree’s arms were still around him, her body pressed to his back. He liked the way she felt against him.
He liked her.
Too much.
She slid away from him, hurried off the bike, and pushed the helmet at him. “Thanks for the ride.” Bree tucked her hair behind her ear. He liked it when she did that. She seemed nervous when she reached for her hair. Hesitant.
He was learning her tells. Learning all her secrets. And the woman had plenty of those. He knew that Bree Harlow was a liar, straight to her core.
He’d brought her home so that he could see where she lived. So that he could apply the right pressure on the owner of the bed and breakfast and get more information on Bree.
She’d made it through the first night at Fantasy. One night down, so many more to go.
When she turned away, he reached out and snagged her hand. His left still gripped the helmet she’d pushed at him, but his right hand circled hers. “You feel it, don’t you? When we touch?”
A quick nod. Ah, more honesty.
“What are we going to do about that?” Kace knew what he’d like to do.
“Nothing.” Her voice was breathless. “You don’t sleep with your staff, remember?”
“Right.” He tugged her closer. “I could fire you.”
“And I could sue you,” she shot right back.
God, he could like this woman. I think I already do. “Good. Don’t ever take shit from anyone.” He let her go. “I’ll stay here until you get inside.”
She blinked. It was too dark for him to see the gold of her eyes clearly, and he hated that. He rather enjoyed seeing the emotions flash in her eyes.
“Can’t figure me out, can you?” Kace laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’m having the same trouble with you.”
Her gaze was on his mouth. No, no way. She wouldn’t—
Bree leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. The kiss lasted all of two seconds. It was the most chaste kiss he’d ever felt in his life.
And he couldn’t remember anything turning him on more.
But she immediately backed away. “OhmyGod. What did I do?”
The laughter came from him again. “You kissed me.”
“Why did I do that?” Bree sounded horrified.
So Kace decided to help her out. “Because you want me. And I want you.” They could be honest about this part, at least. “It’s going to be a problem.”
She snatched her hand from his.
“Be warned, Bree. Next time, I’ll kiss you. It will last longer. Be way deeper. The problem is, if I start, I’m worried I may not stop.”
“There is no next time.”
Then she marched away, hurrying up the steps and into the bed and breakfast. All of the lights inside were off, and he didn’t like that. Darkness could be dangerous. Especially for someone like Bree. In this town.
So he sat there, and he waited, and when the lights flashed on in the upstairs room—what had to be her room—he finally shoved the helmet on his head. He saw her shadow walk past the window. Bree was in safe for the night. She was—
A second shadow joined hers. A bigger shadow that surged toward her. A shadow that grabbed her.
Oh, the fuck, no.
***
“What in the hell happened tonight?” Grayson had lunged from the shadows and locked his hand around her arm. He swung Bree around to face him. “You stopped transmitting! I got nothing but static all night long, and then I find you coming home with him!”
The guy had been waiting in her room? The last thing she’d expected was to find her boss hiding in her closet. Okay, technically, he wasn’t in her closet. He’d been standing where—near the window of the bedroom? “I had to ditch the transmitter.” She lifted her chin. “Turns out, Kace Quick is a very paranoid man. He gets all of his workers scanned for listening devices every night.”
“What?” Shock slackened his mouth. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, and I would have thought the FBI’s intel would have picked up that little tidbit! I mean, I was walking in there blind. I barely had enough time to yank out the device and crush it beneath my heel.” She’d deliberately stumbled into Remy so that she could pull out the small piece of tech. “Kace scanned me personally. If he’d found that tracker on me, he would have kicked me out on my ass.”
Grayson was still holding her arm. “He brought you home tonight.”
Yes, and things just weren’t adding up. “Kace has a protective streak.”
“Bullshit. He’s a killer, he has—”
The door to her room crashed open. “Get the fuck away from her!”
Kace stood in the doorway, his face dark with fury and his hands clenched. He didn’t wait for Grayson to comply. Instead, he rushed across the room and grabbed the other man.
Kace was bigger than Grayson, by a few inches, and more muscled, and when he locked his hands on Grayson—
Oh, hell. He’s about to assault a federal officer! “Kace, stop!” She yanked free of Grayson and put herself between the two men. “Stop!”
His gaze flew to her face. There was so much fury in his stare. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“I saw his shadow. Saw him grab you.”
He’d seen all of that from the street?
“Bree, are you sure that you’re okay?”
He’d seen that—and then rushed to help her.
She looked over his shoulder and saw the owner of the bed and breakfast, Kelly Queen, frowning and clutching her robe to her chest. Kelly Queen had to be pushing eighty, but she usually moved with the spry energy of a woman half her age. Her bright red hair shot from her head in corkscrew curls. Ms. Queen was definitely not looking pleased. The lines on her face had thickened into an angry scowl.
This was bad. “I’m fine.” Bree tried to appear calm. “I’m okay. Really.”
“You aren’t supposed to have visitors here. Not at this time,” Ms. Queen announced, her voice a little too hi
gh and sharp. “You’re disturbing the other guests.”
Were the other guests all in the hallway, craning to see what was happening in her room?
“Who is he?” Kace demanded as he glared at Grayson. “And why did he have his hands on you?”
The best way to handle this—truth. Or at least, part of the truth. “Grayson is my ex.”
A growl came from Kace.
Grayson’s fingers slid over her shoulder.
“Get your fucking hand off her.” Kace’s voice was lethal.
Grayson’s hand tightened. “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation.”
“Oh, Lord,” Ms. Queen said. “Lord!” It sounded like she started to pray.
“Am I misunderstanding?” Kace stared at Bree. “Did you know he was going to be in your room tonight?”
“No.” Another truth.
“Did he grab you when you entered?”
“Yes.”
His jaw clenched tight, Kace gritted, “Do you want him here?”
“I want you all to leave!” Ms. Queen cried out before Bree could answer. “Leave! I can’t handle this! I know who you are, Kace Quick. I know—”
He turned toward her, and, voice without emotion now, he said, “Ms. Queen, I’ll be leaving in just a moment. And I’ll make sure to provide a very generous donation to make up for the trouble. If you don’t mind, though, how about you exit this room and shut the door so I don’t provide more of a show for your guests? Shut the door and tell everyone to go back to bed.”
Her mouth gaped, then closed. Then she was scurrying out and slamming the door shut. Bree heard Ms. Queen’s voice in the hallway as she instructed the other guests to return to their rooms.
“Bree,” Grayson was still gripping her shoulder. “I don’t know who this bozo is…” Ah, obviously, he was playing along. Like he had a choice. The only other option was to reveal the truth about who they were. “But he needs to get the hell out of here.”
Kace didn’t speak again. He just moved—fast. He lunged forward and grabbed Grayson’s hand, wrenching it from Bree’s shoulder and then whirling. When Bree blinked, she realized that Grayson was on his knees, his face was tight with pain as Kace held Grayson’s hand—and arm—at a very unnatural angle.
