by V. A. Dold
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “It was either that or wear the sugar all day, and I have to go back to work.”
Sara leaned closer to Anna. “Isn’t there a law about that, too?”
Cassidy cut another bite and chewed as the women discussed the lawfulness of her actions.
Cassidy gave the beignets a rest and went for her coffee. Suddenly, a thread of unease prickled the back of her neck. Taking a sip, she glanced at the sidewalk and street, then the windows across the way and finally the rooftops. Glancing back to the shop storefronts, her gaze collided with a man’s. He stared at her from an antique shop across the street. A warning shiver skittered down her spine. He was medium height but whip-thin, narrow-shouldered, and dark-haired. He didn’t have the build of one of the assassins she trained with, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one of Jones’s men.
As she watched, he disappeared into the depths of the shop. Cassidy returned to her beignets and joined in the conversation, all the while keeping an eye on the store across the way.
She was taking her last bite when the store entrance opened, and the man emerged. He paused for only a moment, but that was long enough for him to make eye contact and run a finger across his throat.
“An acquaintance of yours?” Sara asked, a lethal edge to her question.
“No.” Which was the truth.
Sara pulled her phone from her pocket and began to text. “Well, he seems to know you. And not in a good way.”
Anna turned in her chair to see what they were talking about. “What happened?”
“Some schmo has a hard-on for our girl. Grab your coffee and let’s go. Seth is meeting me at the office in ten minutes,” Sara answered without looking up from her phone.
* * * * *
Jones glanced at his phone when a message chimed.
R: Target sighted.
J: Were you made?
R: Yes. I made sure she saw me.
J: Was the message sent?
R: Yes. What are my orders now?
J: Trail her. Inform me if she takes action to eliminate the target.
R: And the target? Do you want me to make the hit?
J: Cassidy is taking too long. If an opportunity presents itself, take it.
R: Roger that.
He dropped his phone in his pocket and turned to face the young man tied to the chair. Mr. Jones sighed dramatically and shook his head. “Your sister is a thorn in my side. I pray she’s intelligent enough to do as she’s told.” Mr. Jones’s expression turned sly. “If I’d known your promise as an assassin, I would have taken you from that foster home.” He shook his head as he circled Colin. “I don’t understand how I missed it. You have every marker I look for in a trainee. You could have been the prize of my stable. Sadly, you’re too old now.”
Colin heard the truth as easily as Cassidy. According to his sister, the ability was a gift from their mother. For the thousandth time, he wished he could remember the woman who had loved him for the first two years of his life. Mr. Jones’s sigh was as false as the sad expression he wore. That bastard coveted him but wanted Cassidy to defy him so he could kill her. He had to find a way to escape the stark cinderblock room they held him in and warn her.
“What do you want done with the prisoner, Mr. Jones?” the man standing behind Colin and out of sight asked stiffly.
“Nothing. Yet.” With those last ominous words, Jones turned on his heel and left the holding cell.
* * * * *
It was noon before Marcus made it to the office. Between the investigation into the coffee shop incident and then a meeting with Seth and Sara about the man threatening Cassidy, he’d been detained. Impatiently, he watched the floor numbers light up as he rode the elevator to his floor. He scratched the back of his neck. His need to see his woman was so intense, he itched all over. In his mind, his wolf scratched at its neck as well.
Cassidy texted Jones the instant Anna and Sara left her office.
C: What the hell are you up to sending someone after me. Do you have a death wish?
Hours later, she tapped out her irritation on her desk with the pen she gotten from Marcus’s desk. Waiting wasn’t her forte unless she was sighting in a mark with her gun. Jones knew that better than anyone. The asshat was ignoring her on purpose as punishment for her threat.
J: I have no idea what you’re talking about. When will the job be done?
C: When it’s done. Call off your dog before I take him out. She didn’t believe him for a minute. That skinny little shit was one of Jones’s men. She knew it to her bones. It was a good thing she was retiring. If she didn’t get out now, Jones would assuredly make another try at her.
She was tucking her phone away when a knock on her doorjamb made her jump. Her eyes narrowed slightly at her boss leaning against the jamb looking hotter than hell in his tailored suit. No one snuck up on her, ever. She glanced at the hardwood floor, then his dress shoes. How had he managed it? Her eyes rose to his again. His gaze held her spellbound for a moment, and she swore she felt fingers caress her cheek.
“Ready for lunch?”
She sucked in a breath. Her nerves were already frayed, and his assumption that she would go was maddening. “What makes you think I’m going? I said I would think about it.”
A smile twitched at his lips. Damn it. She was going to give in. Automatically she took a mental check of her weapons. Jones’s man was still out there and may make a try when they left the building. Let the skinny twerp come. She’d send him back to Jones in a pine box.
Marcus straightened and flowed across the room like a jungle cat stalking prey. His smooth light-footed gate intrigued her. The thought that he must have taken dance lessons or perhaps practiced tai chi crossed her mind.
He stopped beside her chair and held out a hand. He didn’t argue or ask a second time, just waited for her to comply and accept what he offered.
Berating herself silently, she put her hand in his and rose to her feet. If she wasn’t careful, she’d lose her heart to Marcus. That was disastrous on so many levels.
They rode the elevator to the lobby in silence, which was fine with her. She didn’t trust her voice or what might erupt from her mouth with his shoulder brushing hers, his thumb rubbing across her skin, and his cologne smelling so damn good.
She was disappointed when the doors opened onto the lobby. Her mind skittered to a halt. What was she doing? With a man threatening her, she needed to get a handle on her libido.
Out of habit, she scanned the lobby for a threat and caught sight of Isaac waving at them. Smiling, she waved back. She liked Isaac a lot. When she was little and memories of her parents faded, she had built the fantasy of the perfect father in her mind. Now, Isaac replaced that image of the perfect parent. Marcus was so lucky to have him.
Marcus raised a hand to his father as well. “Later, Dad,” he called over his shoulder without stopping.
“Have fun,” Isaac called back, laughter in his voice.
Cassidy was surprised to see a black limousine parked along the sidewalk with a man, with features similar to Marcus’s, leaning a hip against it. Her surprise turned to shock when Marcus walked her up to it and opened the door. When her gaze shot to his face, he was smiling at the driver.
“Stefan, this is Cassidy. Cassidy, I’d like to introduce my brother, Stefan. He’s my keeper for the afternoon.”
“More like his babysitter,” Stefan teased back as he slipped behind the wheel.
Cassidy chuckled as she clipped her seatbelt. She liked the comfortable banter between the brothers. It reminded her of Colin and the way they teased each other.
Marcus clipped his seatbelt, then reached for her hand. “Next he’ll insist I take a nap.”
Stefan barked out a laugh as he pulled away from the curb. “Of course. Your pillow and blankie are in the trunk.”
Cassidy couldn’t help joining in. “Did you bring some for me? An after-lunch nap would be nice.”
That made Stefan laugh harder. �
�I like her, Marcus. She’s good for you.”
Lowering her voice, she asked, “Why do you need a babysitter?”
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t so much need a babysitter as a driver. I was in a bad car accident recently, and my family has grounded me from driving.”
The fib rolled off his tongue like water. She heard the truth of the accident, but he was lying about why he had a driver. She was considering the reason why, when a thought chilled her blood. “What happened? The car accident, I mean.”
Marcus told her the truth but held back on the details of his injuries. Someone had run him off the road. Was it possible that Jones had sent a hit team ahead of her? Yes, it was. That meant, Jones expected her to find Marcus innocent and refuse the contract. That certainly made her decision about following through easier. But now she had a whole new set of problems. Someone was after Marcus and may or may not be the same man after her. So, there was at least one assassin, possibly two. The entire situation was rapidly going to hell in a handbasket.
An icy calm settled in her chest. She glanced at Marcus from under her lashes. When and how much should she disclose to him? She could protect herself, but he was an easy mark for a trained assassin, possibly more than one trained assassin. She was still mulling over her options when the car pulled smoothly to the curb, effectively cutting her musing short. Marcus slid out first then reached in for her hand so she could exit onto the sidewalk instead of the busy street.
She slid out and did a quick sweep for the assassin. She didn’t spot him, which made sense. He had no idea where they were going for lunch and as such, no time to set a trap. Satisfied, she let her gaze linger on the buildings and businesses around her. So, this was Canal Street. From what she understood, the street marked one edge of the famous French Quarter. She had studied maps of the entire city, familiarizing herself with the layout. That was completely different from standing among the historic buildings. She loved that the entire city was steeped in history.
When she turned her attention to Marcus, he was waiting patiently for her with a smile on his face. “I love the city, too,” he said as if in answer to her admiration of the view.
He guided her toward the Palace Café, reaching around her to open the door, before allowing her to precede him. A mixture of sautéed vegetables, meats, spices, and a multitude of other things swirled around her. She took a deep breath savoring the aromas. “It smells amazing in here.”
Marcus chuckled. “I hoped you’d like it.”
“Mr. Le Beau! I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“I’m sorry about that, Marie. I forgot to make a reservation.”
The hostess waved his apology away. “You know reservations aren’t necessary for you.” Leaning over her hostess desk, she studied the seating chart, then smiled. “See? Your table is available.” The hostess plucked two menus off the podium and started off into the depths of the restaurant.
With a grin, Marcus took her hand and guided her through the tables.
Seven
Moving through the tables, Cassidy automatically glanced from doors to windows, a sweeping staircase to the upper level, and what must be the kitchen. After years of torturous training, identifying escape routes was ingrained in her DNA. Jones amused himself by putting young trainees into deadly situations where either they found a way out or suffered what hunted them.
What the heck? The majority of lunchers were following her progress, their eyes filled with interest. For her or Marcus? A quick glance at her so-called date showed Marcus nodding to patrons here and there. Interesting. She hadn’t pegged him as a social butterfly.
Cassidy stiffened when warm, garlic-laden breath hit the back of her neck and billowed around her face. Surreptitiously, she palmed her knife and glanced back. Hot on her heels was a pimple-faced waiter. Thank goodness it wasn’t scrawny boy. Bloodying up a lunch crowd was problematic, to say the least. A heartbeat later, Marcus glared over his shoulder and the sensation dissipated. The man was useful in more ways than one.
At the far end of the dining room, the hostess placed the menus on a table and removed the extra place settings. Nice positioning. From that location, she would have her back to the wall. When Marcus pulled the wrong chair, she smiled sweetly and placed her hand on the one she wanted. Cocking a brow, he stepped around the table and pulled her chair of choice for her.
Before Mr. Garlic breath could step around the hostess and say a word, Marcus drawled, “I’d like Duane to wait on our table. I hope that won’t be an inconvenience, Marie.”
Mr. Garlic breath paled under Marie’s scowl. “None at all.”
Once they were alone, Cassidy grinned at Marcus. “Are you friends with everyone in New Orleans?”
Marcus cocked a brow in question. “You sound surprised. For your information, I have many friends. I’m not a complete ogre, for crying out loud. To be honest, I know a lot of people, but most of the people in the restaurant today are acquaintances who live and work in the Le Beau area. A few are business associates. This is a popular lunch spot for talking business.”
Yes, the Le Beau area. She’d learned about that when going over the file. The Le Beau’s claimed several square blocks of the business district that surrounded their international corporate headquarters. They treated that area as theirs to protect.
The family wealth was somewhere in the billions. That, too, was in the file. Caring for others living at a considerably lower income level wasn’t something billionaires did. The rich donated to charities, yes, but providing security and handling reported illegal activity personally, never. She didn’t understand the Le Beau’s behavior, but she respected them for it. Evidently, the locals did as well.
Cassidy continued to grin, obviously enjoying the teasing moment. “I see. I’ll have to meet some of these so-called friends for myself.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes playfully. “Be careful what you wish for. Some of my friends bite.”
Cassidy leaned in and whispered, “That doesn’t bother me. I bite back.”
Marcus sucked in a sharp breath. The image of Cassidy biting his neck shocked his body into painful life.
Disappointment rushed through him when she pulled back and glanced around again. “All of them knowing you doesn’t explain why they’re staring at me.”
“I suspect they’re curious. You’re the first woman I’ve brought here.”
Her brows rose. “Why? I can hear the truth of what you said, but why? A man like you must have women panting after him.”
It was time to ramp up his courting. “The Palace Café is special to me. I would never bring a casual date here. That would ruin it for me.”
“Oh. Um, okay.”
The gist of his response hit home at the same moment Duane arrived.
“Mr. Le Beau, it’s wonderful to see you with a companion. Should I bring your usual beverage?”
“Hello, Duane. This is Cassidy, my lovely lunch date. Bring one for her as well.”
“Date?” Duane smiled brightly at Cassidy and extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Grinning back, she took it. “You as well.”
When Duane held her hand longer than Marcus deemed acceptable, he cleared his throat. With a wink, Duane released her, dialed back the charm, and became the ultimate professional. “The special today is the Andouille crusted fish. A pan-roasted gulf fish, coated with Andouille breadcrumbs, with fresh vegetables. I’ll leave you to review the menu while I get your drinks.”
With a quizzical expression on her face, Cassidy asked, “Is he always like that?”
“Yes. Duane has a deplorable excess of personality, and thus he enjoys poking the bear, but he’s like family.”
Cassidy opened her menu. “And you’re the bear?”
Marcus ignored his menu altogether. He didn’t need one. Eating at the Palace every Monday and Thursday, he knew it by heart. “Something like that.”
Cassidy was setting her menu aside when Duane returned with two
ice-cold sweet teas. She grinned at Marcus again. “Excellent choice.”
“I’m pleased that it meets your approval. Your happiness is important to me.” He softened his voice, infusing his tone with sensuality. His wolf chuffed approval when it scented her body heating, dampening.
Cassidy’s cheeks pinkened. Lord have mercy. She was even more beautiful with a rosy glow.
Before the moment was broken, he lifted his tea and leaned in to clink his glass with hers. “To our budding romance.”
Slowly she lifted her tea, all the while filtering his words through her gift. The breath froze in her lungs. He meant every word he said. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, Marcus wanted her. Mustering all of her courage but unable to say the word romance, she instead said, “To us.”
The clink of their glasses rang like a bell. As she took a sip, she attempted to picture herself as Marcus’s girlfriend. Having little experience with men, surprisingly, she could see herself on his arm, candlelight dinners with him, kissing him. Heat rose in her cheeks again.
Now that she was sure Marcus was an innocent, she could indulge herself in the attraction that had been building since she first laid eyes on his photo. Then she’d met him in person, and her inner war had begun. She hadn’t been able to allow herself to acknowledge her attraction while contemplating his demise. That hurdle was good and gone. Operation Date the Hottest Man in New Orleans was engaged.
Cassidy sipped her tea again and choked when the breath she sucked in took it down her windpipe. The smile Marcus had flashed her, lit up his eyes until she swore they glowed.
He took the glass from her fingers and offered his napkin when tea dribbled from her lip. Way to look sexy. She scolded herself in mortification.
Marcus’s eyes danced, and he chuckled in a way that made her heart flutter. “You look sexy, mon amour, no matter what you do. It’s impossible for you to look otherwise.”
Ah hell. Did she say that out loud? Cassidy coughed again and reached for her water, keeping her head down to hide her embarrassment. Stupid move. She misjudged the placement of the glass. Instead of gripping it, she sent it careening toward the table’s edge.
