by V. A. Dold
“Marcus!”
“I’ve got you, mon amour.” He surged harder, faster, driving deep.
Cassidy made adorable little sounds that drove both him and his wolf to the edge of sanity. His breathing became harsh, and his lungs burned. Still, he held his release. His mate wasn’t quite there yet.
Feeling her orgasm growing, he pistoned into her harder and faster. Each hard thrust drew her closer to the edge. When she dug her nails into his back, sweat beaded his forehead.
Then she pulled him down and kissed the crook of his neck, unaware that she would one day put her mark there when she bit him. When she bit him, he lost control of his wolf and howled.
His whole body tightened. His buttocks clenched. Insinuating his hand between their bodies, he pressed down on her clitoris as he plunged one final time and buried himself in her. As one, they exploded in passion. His vision blacked out, as Cassidy clamped down on him hard and screamed his name.
Slowly his world came back into focus as her pulsing muscles relaxed around him, and he gulped a breath of citrus laden air.
Releasing her hip, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, thundering heart to thundering heart
“I need a minute,” he gasped. “Then I’ll clean us up.”
“Okay,” Cassidy panted. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I think my bones melted.”
He chuckled as he nuzzled her neck. “I’ve never melted bone before.”
“Well, chalk it up as a first then, because my bones are mush.”
After a minute, finally able to breathe properly, Marcus eased from her body and rolled to sit at the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right back.”
She waved at him weakly and dropped her arm back to the bed.
Smiling with pride, he made his way to the bathroom on less than sturdy legs. When he returned, the condom had been taken care of, and he had a washcloth in hand.
He crawled in beside her and washed away the evidence of her innocence with care. Once the washcloth was rinsed and hanging to dry, he crawled in beside Cassidy and pulled her close, spooning her with his body.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she snuggled close.
He swept her hair from her shoulder and kissed her neck. “So, did I keep my promise?”
“What promise?” she asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.
He ran his hand down her body and over her hip. Stroking her thigh, he answered, “To make your night unforgettable.”
“Absolutely. Thank you.”
“No, mon amour. Thank you,” he whispered into her ear as her breathing evened out in sleep.
Fourteen
Cassidy groaned and pulled the covers over her head, the early morning sun shining through the open curtains much too brightly. Blindly, she felt around Marcus’s side of the bed. Not only was it empty, it was cold to the touch. Where the heck was he? Curiosity getting the better of her, she threw the covers back and stumbled to the bathroom. It was there she found his note stuck to the mirror.
Good Morning, mon amour,
I was called into the office to investigate a tripped alarm.
Stay inside. I’ll be back as soon as possible.
Yours always,
Marcus.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the note a second time. Suspicion trickled down her spine. Just how often was an alarm tripped at Le Beau Corp? Rarely, she’d bet. Was Jones up to his tricks again? Possibly.
She contemplated that as she showered and dressed. So consumed by the situation that rubbed her nerves raw, she was blind to the beauty of the bedroom’s decor. The professionally appointed space, with artfully placed antiques, could have been plain gray walls for all the attention she gave it. Making for the kitchen and a cup of coffee, the bank of french doors facing Royal Street drew her gaze.
Hmm, she could rummage through the cupboards for coffee grounds or—? She opened one of the doors and stepped onto the tiny balcony. The unique sounds of the French Quarter made her smile. Then delicious smells of coffee and fresh baked goods floated to her on the breeze. Café Beignet across the street won out.
Sitting at the same bistro table she’d shared with the Le Beau women, she watched the people passing by on the sidewalk. Sipping her coffee, she grinned as a woman wearing a pink tutu over rainbow-colored leggings carrying a scruffy dog in her arms rushed by. Now she understood the appeal of people watching.
Suddenly, the suspicious chill she’d felt about the tripped alarm trickled down her spine again. She set her cup on the table and palmed her concealed handgun. The trickle turned into a sharp prickle of awareness as she searched for the source.
Her gaze slid over the faces of every customer and employee, then out to the sidewalk and street. A man stared straight at her from a black sedan with tinted windows. Squinting her eyes, she tried to place the vaguely familiar man. Had she trained with him at some point? Whoever he was, the idiot sucked at covert surveillance. The first rule of a stakeout and the fourth rule in her assassin’s manual was never stare directly at your target. People had an inner alarm for that.
Cassidy was laying out a play of action to exit the café unseen when her phone rang. A quick glance showed Marcus was calling. “Good morning,” she said in greeting, sure her smile was in her voice. How could it not be, her grin was so big her face hurt.
“Good morning, mon amour. What are you doing outside of the condo?”
What? How did he know she’d gone for coffee? “I’m enjoying a café au lait.”
“And putting yourself in danger. Don’t even think about leaving the café until I get there.”
“That may not be an option. A man is staring at me from a car. If he gets out, he could hurt innocent civilians. Rule number two in my assassin’s manual—never take the shot if an innocent can be unintentionally harmed. Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
“Damn it, Cassidy. Just stay the fuck put.” He hung up abruptly, not giving her a chance to respond.
Rolling her eyes, she put the phone into her pocket. As if she’d sit by and wait for a man to rescue her. Glancing around, she considered her options. If she went out the front door or out via the police department’s entrance at the far end of the courtyard, the man would see her and give chase. She didn’t see that ending well on the populated streets of the Quarter. There had to be a rear entrance to the restaurant for deliveries. Cassidy sighed, time to get yelled at as she ran the kitchen gambit.
Decision made, she casually got to her feet and walked to a trash can with her coffee cup, then moseyed inside the restaurant. With any luck, her watcher wouldn’t come looking for at least ten minutes. Turning sideways, she skirted past the line of waiting customers.
“Hey! You can’t go back there!” the cashier yelled when she pushed through the kitchen door without so much as slowing down.
A quick glance around the tiny kitchen, and she located the back door.
“What the hell! Get out of here!” the woman tending the fryer full of beignets yelled as another woman making other breakfast foods started her direction, spatula in hand.
Yanking the door open, she ran smack into Cade. Rubbing her abused nose, she gave him a dark look. “What are you doing here?”
He cocked a brow, lifted his hand, and waggled the phone he held back and forth. “Naughty, naughty, Cassidy. Marcus told you to stay put.”
Cassidy cocked a brow right back. “Marcus is neither my father nor my keeper. Please move out of the way.”
“Can’t do that, cher.” Then he lifted a hand to the kitchen staff. “I’m sure you all have a lot to do. I’ve got this.”
The cooks simply smiled and went back to work. She called Cade a few unladylike words in her mind. Did the Le Beau’s control everything in the dang Quarter?
The damn man was so large he filled the doorway, blocking the only viable exit. She could put him down with a throat punch, but he was Marcus’s brother. No, that wouldn’t go over well. She was leaning forward on the balls of her feet to see
around his wide shoulders, trying to assess the alleyway, when Cade’s phone chirped with a new text message. Cassidy dropped back, putting her feet flat on the floor, wracking her brain for another option.
Leaning one hip, casual as can be, against the doorjamb, Cade stretched his other leg and one arm to the opposite side of the frame. He effectively foiled her escape while reading the message. He snorted out a laugh and glanced up from the phone’s screen. “I can’t remember the last time my brother was this pissed off. He ordered me out of an important meeting to guard you, and now he’s blowing up my phone. I have to say, his threats of bodily harm if you leave the café are quite inventive.”
Cassidy scowled. “Are all Le Beau’s so dramatic?”
Typing a response to the text, he shook his head. “Only the ones with mates.”
She gave Cade a hard look. That word, mate, made her neck itch. So, how would she exit the building now?
Movement in the kitchen caught her eye. Great, another Le Beau coming through the kitchen from the café. As she turned on her heel to head back into the public area of the restaurant, she heard the brother, Stefan, she thought his name was, ask, “What the hell has Marcus’s panties in a twist?”
“Cassidy left the condo,” Cade answered, exasperation in his tone.
“And—” Stefan prompted.
“Her boss is after her. Marcus told her to stay put.”
Stefan chuckled. “I take it she tried to make a run out the back door.”
“Yep. Marcus figured she would and asked me to block the way.”
She ignored the rest of their conversation. She had to figure another way out. Okay, wait for Marcus, or sneak out the front? That was when a group of women got up from their table and headed for the door. That would work. She insinuated herself among the five women and walked out, pretty as you please.
“Cassidy!”
Damn it. Where did he come from? She’d checked up and down the sidewalk as the group stepped from the café, and there had only been a single couple walking away from her. Yet, she hadn’t made it five feet, and Marcus caught her. Glancing at the sedan, she made sure the man was still inside. He was, and he was watching her. She watched right back.
“Why did you leave the condo?” Without waiting for her answer, he took her by the arm and stepped off the curb. “Come on, let’s get you off the street.”
“Marcus, no.” She tried to pull her arm from his grip and get him to stop. If they went directly to the condo, the man would know where they were staying.
He glared down at her but didn’t speak. Great, he wasn’t just mad, he was seething.
“We can’t go to the condo. Damn it, stop.” He had one hell of a mad on. Well, she did too. Cassidy took care of herself. She always took care of herself. Alone. Period. With her training, she could handle anything thrown at her. But big bad Marcus didn’t see it that way. The man would just have to learn.
He must have sensed her next move. Before she could stomp his instep and elbow his solar plexus, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. Damn it, Just Damn it.
“You’re in enough trouble already. Stop wiggling,” he snarled into her ear.
She pushed at his chest. When that didn’t work, she slid her arms around his neck and smiled sweetly to throw him off balance.
Marcus didn’t return her smile or loosen his hold, and his wolf grumbled in agreement. They were annoyed with their mate. No, that wasn't entirely true. They were terrified for her, which in turn annoyed them. He knew very well what she was doing and wouldn't fall for her false acquiescence. Pressing her to his chest with one arm, he unlocked the condo and carried her inside. The door had an automatic locking mechanism, allowing him to continue up the stairs uninterrupted.
The minute they were in the living room, he loosened his hold and let her feet fall to the floor. Before she could step away, he palmed the back of her head and settled his mouth over hers.
Desperate. Angry. Terrified. He poured every emotion jangling his nerves into the kiss. When she kissed him just as fiercely, his ragged pulse eased slightly, but didn’t quite settle. He broke the kiss and growled. His erratic emotions having allowed the wolf close to the surface. “You’re mine to protect. MINE. Understand?” he demanded, anger still infusing his voice.
She cocked a brow at him. “I’m deadly. Hear me? Deadly. I don’t need protection.”
He bared his teeth and snarled. The damn woman would be the end of him. “You may not need the protection, mon amour, but I need you to let me do it. It’s part of my makeup. Engrained in my bones. Humor me and pretend if you have to.”
She gazed at him for a heartbeat, two, then patted his chest. “If that’s what it takes to make you happy. But Marcus, you’re a little nuts. You know that, right?”
He took the first deep breath he’d drawn since learning she’d left the condo. “I’ve been called worse.”
When she took a seat on the couch, he sat next to her. “To be honest, your little jaunt for coffee, scared the crap out of me. I can’t lose you, Cassidy.” He held up a hand to silence her retort. “I know, you’re deadly. I also know my reaction was irrational to you, but, cher, I’m a shifter. I can’t help it.”
Her eyes softened. “I’ll keep that in mind next time. If there’s ever a next time.”
Thank God. At least she was listening. Settling back, he stretched his arm across the back of the couch. “Why don’t you tell me what you know about the guy in the car.” He suppressed a groan when she chewed her lower lip in thought.
“He was vaguely familiar, but I haven’t been able to place why.” She shrugged. “It could be as simple as having sparred once. But one thing’s for sure, he’s one of Jones’s men. If Jones is sending additional assassins, he’s either desperate in a way I’ve never seen him or questioning why he hasn’t heard from Roger. Regardless, this proves that we need to rescue my brother immediately. Jones could snap at any second. On top of all of that, he now knows I’m with you and where we’re staying. The assassin will come for us as soon as he feels he can get to us unseen.”
As if she’d spoken the situation into being, Marcus heard the creak of the courtyard gate. Leaning in, he whispered, “The garden gate off of the alleyway just opened. He’s coming.”
The instant he spoke the warning, her head turned toward the patio doors, eyes narrowing. She nodded. “I hear footsteps on the patio pavers. Weapon up.”
Together, they rushed to the bedroom. Cassidy crouched and unzipped her duffle, sorted through her weapons, and grabbed her favorites. Patting Black Betty, she whispered. “Sorry, baby. Today is short-range work.” With efficient movements, she slid the weapons of choice in place all over her body. Lastly, she lifted her pant leg and slid a throwing knife into her boot. Glancing at Marcus, she frowned. Why was he running his palm over the wall? “What are you doing?” As she asked, a steel reinforced door swung open and an interior light flared to life. “Oh, my,” she sighed. “You have an arsenal hidden in the wall.”
He grinned at her over his shoulder. “My family believes in being prepared.”
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Marcus turned to scowl at her. “The hell it is.”
She pushed between his body and the door to get a better look inside. Her breath caught in her throat. “I’m in heaven.” A weapon’s room the size of a large walk-in closet glistened before her eyes. Floor to ceiling racks filled with guns, knives, crossbows, and everything else imaginable. Even a coil of rope. The MacManus brothers would be so proud.
“I’m glad you like it. I have one twice this size in my home. The family has caches placed strategically throughout the corporate building and our homes,” he said as he shoved a clip into a gun.
Cassidy rubbed the end of the rope between her fingers. “Someone’s a Boon Dock Saints fan.”
He gave her a wicked grin as he slipped a wickedly sharp knife into his boot sheath. “That would be my father. The man loves that movie.”
“Huh. Isaac? I wouldn’t have guessed that.” She zeroed in on the lethal-looking crossbow. “You have a Cobra RX Adder with a five-bolt magazine. That isn’t even on the market yet. How’d you get one?”
“Admire the crossbow later, cher. Grab what you need and let’s go,” he said, waving his free hand toward the racks of weapons.
“I’m good. I’m comfortable with my own weapons. But I want the crossbow when we’re done taking care of business.”
Marcus grabbed two Kevlar vests from a shelf straining under the weight of what must be a dozen vests in a variety of sizes. “Put this on. I know you’re a badass, but even you can be killed by a well-placed bullet.”
Cassidy wrinkled her nose but put it on.
Suddenly, a muffled curse came from a spare bedroom. As one, their heads jerked toward the hallway. Marcus utilized their telepathy to their advantage. I’ll handle that. You take care of our visitor in the courtyard.
I’m on it. She paused at the hallway, checking left and right before slipping silently down the stairs. Stay safe, Marcus.
No worries there, mon amour. As for you, I don’t want to see a scratch on you when this is done.
She gave him the equivalent of a psychic snort. Quiet as a church mouse, she crept down the stairs. It would be foolish to believe none had gained access to the condo while they were upstairs. Stopping at the bottom, she listened. No footsteps, cocked weapon, or random sounds. Inching along the wall, she glanced out the french doors. The man had either found a place to hide or was inside the condo.
The brightness of a cloudless mid-morning was casting shadows to the benefit of the attacker. But the man in digitized camouflage still had to move from one shadow to another. It was those in-betweens that would bring his death. As she watched and listened, covering both inside and out, a shadow within a shadow shifted, and she had him.
Cassidy was raising her handgun when movement on the balcony across the courtyard caught her eye. A woman moved from planter to planter with a watering can. Shit, she had to take the assassin out quietly. With economy of motion, she holstered the pistol and palmed her favorite knife.
