The corner of my mouth pulls slightly. At least we agree on something.
“How do you conclude that today is going to be easy?”
She pulls out her phone, smiling as she rolls her eyes. “Mine is going to be easy. I’m not sure about yours.” A few taps on the screen and then her attention is back on me. “When were you born?”
“Excuse me?” My brows knit together. Tipping my head, I observe her.
“Well, if I ask what your zodiac sign is, would you know?”
“Why would I care?”
“Typical. Not many men care about it.” She squares her shoulders. Her glossy lips don’t drop the smile, even when her eyes narrow in frustration. “Let me tell you, horoscopes are essential to coexist.”
She’s crazy. Certifiable.
Harrison: Get me the fuck out of here.
Bradley: Giving up so early in the game?
Harrison: Don’t you have a wife and children to go torture, Bradley? Hawk, isn’t your fiancée organizing a wedding?
Fuckers. Scratching my chin, I watch her, estimating the time we would be stuck in the elevator. Yes. I could do it. Especially if I compared these next hours with the fifty miles, I walked through the jungle carrying my equipment and Tiago—who was wounded—to the plane where Wings waited. Could I stand Miss Sunshine? The light humor that her eyes carry doesn’t fade with the fucking heat. She watches me intently. Analyzing me.
“Are you always this . . . joyful?” I ask, curious about her.
She moves her head to the side, twisting those lips again. Judging me? Maybe not. She’s hard to read. Her beautiful features are enchanting, her mood confuses the fuck out of me. It’s not every day that I find myself trapped in an elevator with a woman who looks like she’s as happy as a unicorn flying along the rainbow.
“Why are you so mad at the world?” She sighs, arching her eyebrow.
“Am I?” I cross my arms, deepening my frown. Perhaps this will switch her attitude.
“You tell me,” she retorts, and there it is again, the edges of those heart-shaped lips tugging freely to the sky.
Is it legal to be that happy all the time?
Her smile shines like the stars in the sky. She’s the brightest one in the galaxy, and there is nothing that can dim it. Happiness flows through her, warming her skin like the rays of an early summer sun. Being near her lightens my insides, giving me serenity unlike any I experienced before.
She creates a warmth in my soul.
“You’re smiling.” She waves her index finger around my face. She’s so close I can almost feel it caressing my jaw.
Yes, touch me.
Wait. What the hell is wrong with me?
Scrunching my face, I glare at her and take a step back.
Personal space, lady.
“Alacrán.”
“What?”
“You’re a typical alacrán.” She sucks in her upper lip, resting the top of her tongue on top of it.
Fuck, I want to nibble on that lip so bad my mouth waters. It has been too long since I . . . fuck. We stare at each other for several beats. I try to decipher her end game. The tactic of this façade. There’s nothing other than sunshine, rainbows, and flowers.
“That’s Spanish for scorpion.” She breaks the connection between us, moving her eyes to the elevator’s panel.
“What?” I don’t comprehend what she’s getting into with her fixation with a poisonous insect.
“Zodiac signs,” she growls. I chuckle as she wiggles her nose in annoyance. “Yours is Scorpio.”
She’s so cute.
“Scorpions can’t hide their emotions,” she explains, poking several buttons including the fire alarm. Nothing works. “This situation is easy to fix. We call the superintendent of the building, and in a few minutes we’ll be out.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose closing my eyes. That’s not the solution. Unless I give in and ask the assholes to let us out, we will be here all day. I won’t. I plan on staying here all day if necessary. At least until they get tired.
“Yes?” A voice booms from the intercom. Bradley. That fucker is going to pay.
“Your elevator broke down. It’s in a loop going up and down, sir,” she explains, her voice isn’t that of a damsel in distress, but one of a woman taking charge of the situation. “How long is it going to take for your technician to fix it? I have to deliver some proofs to a client. Now.”
She sighs, tossing her head for dramatic effect. “A new client. The repercussions of losing him are . . . my livelihood is in your hands.”
I lean closer, whispering in her ear, “That’s a little over the top. Acting lessons?”
She smiles, closing the gap between us, her breath caressing my skin. “Telenovelas,” she whispers, the word travels through my system like thick honey covering every inch of my body with a coat of sweetness.
“Hours in front of the television and living with my Mexican grandparents,” she clarifies, taking a step back. My body already misses hers, her gaze connects once again with mine. “They’re full of drama.”
“What floor are you going to, Miss?” Hawk asks through the intercom. I want to pull out my gun and shoot that thing. It interrupted us. We have all day, maybe all night, to get to know each other. If this ride ends I won’t have the pleasure to taste those lips, run my mouth down her body.
“Twenty-second.” Our eyes don’t leave each other. I feel my lips copying hers. Why am I staring at her like an idiot?
“You should do that more often.” She moves toward me, her lips kissing my cheek. All at once my body jolts with a surge of electricity running through it. The combination of her voice still ringing inside my head and the touch of her lips send a rush through my blood. My heart drills my chest, hard. It’s trying to come outside. “Smile. It’s good for your soul.”
The doors open, and I freeze in place. I watch her turn around, swaying those curvy hips. The clinking noise of her bracelets hypnotizes me.
Fuck, what’s her name? I am about to step out to follow her when the doors close.
“You thought we would let you go?” Bradly cackles. “In your dreams, sweetheart.”
I slam my head on the metal wall. Fuck. I didn’t care about the heat. Only her name, her number, her lips.
Those angel eyes.
Six
Luna
My heart picks up its pace as I swing open the door to my temporary apartment. The paper I left between the door and the frame didn’t fall. The shoe I placed right in front of the entrance is now a couple of feet away from where I stand. I hold my breath searching for my hair accessories inside my tote bag. I pull out a metal chopstick. My eyes scan the living room and the kitchen. I swear, if whoever broke in is still here, they are not leaving in one piece. I might have to call Tiago to take care of the body.
I slip off my shoes. A prickle climbs the back of my neck as I hear some noise outside the apartment. Someone is lurking around. I order my body to wait instead of reacting, but it’s hard to remain still when my heart hammers fast against my ribs. I only have two hands and two chopsticks handy, and there could be two intruders . . . or more. Who could possibly be here? Only my boss, my brothers, and my father know where I am. And why would they care to find me when I’m here only to gather information?
I take a few steps toward the bedroom. From the corner of my eye, I see the doorknob turning slowly. I move toward the wall, pressing my back against it. Then I slide slowly, my hand gripping the metallic stick like a knife. I lift my hand as the door flies open and I charge toward the intruder.
“Luna, stop!”
I freeze.
The mention of my name makes me reconsider my next move. Though, I leave the sharp edge of the fake chopstick on the neck of the intruder, almost cutting through the skin. The pale-blue-eyed guy from the elevator stares at me. He stands tall, his broad, muscular frame blocking the doorway. His muscles seem to gape from his fitted black shirt. With all that dry blood on his ripped forearms and bruise
s around his face, he screams trouble. I just thought he was yet another agent.
“Who sent you?”
His breathing is shallow. His hands lift up in the air, his eyes move to the back of the room. “What the fuck, Tiago?” His voice is loud, rough.
“Tiago?” I sigh, rolling my eyes.
Without lowering the chopstick against his skin, I crank my neck slightly and see my oldest brother coming out of my room. The other intruder. “What are you doing here, Santiago Federico?”
“She’s your sister, isn’t she?” the man in front of me questions my brother, who gives him a sharp nod.
“I’m going to lower my hands and take a step back,” the man in front of me warns me.
“What are you two doing here?” I ask one more time, stepping away . . . I angle my head, narrowing my gaze. “Who are you?”
“Luna, this is Harrison. Harrison, meet Luna.”
I snap my head toward my brother, narrowing my eyes. “What are you two doing in my apartment?”
“The FBI is failing.” Harrison ignores me. “This building isn’t safe for her. I suggest we move her to a more secure area.”
“Her is here, and she can hear you.” I put the sharp edge of my weapon under his chin again. “I think your horoscope said something about shutting up or you might die a slow death.”
He rolls his eyes, grabbing my wrist with both hands and trying to snatch the chopstick. I tilt my head, swing my left foot under his knees and using my free hand, push him on the chest. His eyes widen as he loses his balance and falls. My brother laughs when I put my foot on top of his throat.
Harrison grabs my ankle with both hands. We stare at each other waiting for the next move. I’m ready for him to pull it. My next move is kicking him in the nose. But we remain still for several seconds. He smiles at me. My heart skips a couple of beats as his dimples deepen.
“You’re wrong. My horoscope mentioned something about meeting the girl of my dreams.” He winks at me.
“Sweet talking me won’t distract me. Don’t move,” I advise, pushing my foot closer to his neck.
Turning my attention to my older brother, I cross my arms. “Explain, and this better be good.”
Tiago scrubs his face. “Lucas asked me to look after you. He’s concerned about your safety. Harrison here can get you where you want to be.”
“Where’s that?”
“He can get you close to Gia Dominguez, among other people,” he explains.
She’s one of the New York socialites I’m supposed to be watching. There’s a rumor that she’s dating a wealthy man twice her age, Juan Carlos Medina. According to our informants, he’s the biggest human trafficker in South America.
“How close?” I stare down at Harrison who is distracted looking at my legs. “Hey, I’m talking to you. I won’t let you move from this position until you answer all my questions.”
He smirks. “Who said I want to move from heaven?” He runs his callused hand up my leg while he uses the other to hold my foot. “Best view I’ve had in a long time. No underwear is the best underwear.”
My face heats as I understand what he’s staring at from his position. I fight to take my leg from his grasp. In two strides, Tiago is on the floor, choking his friend.
“My sister is off limits.”
Harrison doesn’t waver. He crosses his arms, and I want to smack that smile off his lips. “I see the similarity between the two of you. You like blood and threatening my manhood. In my defense, she’s wearing underwear.” He winks once again.
I press my thighs together, fighting the butterflies fluttering inside my stomach. Why is this guy getting to me?
“Everhart, I need you to help me, but if you fool around with Luna I swear—”
“Wait.” I turn to face Harrison. “Any relation to Scott Everhart?”
He glances my way with a cocky grin. “Maybe . . . it all depends on what you want from him.”
“His girlfriend is friends with Gia.” I turn to my brother. If I didn’t want to kill him, I’d kiss him. “You’re right, Tiago. He might be useful.”
“Big guy, do me a favor and move away from me,” Harrison says, pushing my brother off himself and sitting up.
His light brown hair is a bit messier than before, and I want to shove my fingers through it and . . . nope.
Stay away from the hot mercenary.
My brother insists he’s working with a high intelligence security company. All I know is that they charge millions for what they do while going above the law. But if this guy is related to Scott, I might be able to complete my mission faster. Waiting for Gia to appear at the yoga studio has been pointless.
“Do you know Hazel?”
“Whoa,” he says, holding his hands up and narrowing his gaze. “Hazel is off limits.” His voice is rough, the warning loud and clear.
“She’s friends with Gia,” I explain her importance. “The company where she works might have a few accounts that need to be investigated.”
“Our clients go through a thorough background process.” His voice comes out defensive. “If you need any information about them, you come to me. Not Hazel or my brother. I’m your man.”
“I still need to make connections, expand my social circle.” Not that I have a social circle here, or anywhere.
Does my large family count?
He shakes his head. “We know Gia. There’s no friendship between her family and mine. You can use me, but we will not involve her. Though . . .” he looks around my apartment and sighs, placing his palms on top of his thighs, “this apartment isn’t safe. We have to move you.”
“Do we have a safe house in New York?” Tiago asks, watching his friend get off the ground.
“No,” Harrison responds. “We have a rule. We keep our activity to a minimum in this area. But these are extenuating circumstances, aren’t they?”
Tiago shrugs. His brown eyes soften as he looks at me. I smile at him. Even when he drives me crazy and only texts me once a month, I love him.
Harrison shakes his head. “Pack your things, Luna,” he orders. “I’m taking you to a safe place, but you have to promise you won’t involve Hazel.”
He grabs his phone, looking at my brother. “You owe me, big guy.”
I walk toward my bedroom. Any other day I’d fight their safety concerns. Not today. He’s taking me right where I want to be. Now I have to convince that bitch that she can trust me. Should I beat the shit out of her before or after my mission? The former will get me some respect, the latter might get me more information.
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you. My little sister is off limits.” I hear Tiago threaten Harrison.
“Dude, you offend me with your mistrust.”
“I decide if I’m off limits,” I warn my brother as I begin packing my clothing. “If I want to have sex with him, it is none of your damn business. I’m thirty-one, not thirteen.”
“Jesus, Luna,” my brother complains cursing in Spanish.
It doesn’t take me long to pack. I have a system to ensure that I can leave within minutes without leaving a trace. When I step outside, I glare at my brother.
“Watch your language,” I warn him as I serve him with a glare. The words might not mean much to many, but I understand what he’s saying. “And just a reminder, I’m not a virgin and if I want to have sex. That is s-e-x with him, it’s none of your business.”
“I mean it, Luna. Do not sleep with him.”
“Thirty-one, not thirteen,” I repeat, looking at his friend who is grinning at me. “He seems good enough to keep me entertained while I work.”
Harrison laughs, flashing a cocky smirk. “I could entertain you in so many ways.”
“Harrison, is it?” I ask again, batting my eyelashes. “Please, lead the way.”
He walks toward me and grabs my bags. His eyes focus on me, his smile is gone. “Just so you know, I don’t have s-e-x before or during the first date.” He winks, turns around, and leaves me with an
open mouth.
Who does he think he is?
Seven
Harrison
When did I step into the twilight zone? Tiago has a sister. A beautiful, smoking hot, sexy sister who is anything but normal. And she’s an FBI agent too. Bradley and I have to have a chat about recruiting her. With that innocent face and killer instincts, she’d be a great undercover asset for us.
Why isn’t she working for us? If she’s half as good as Tiago, I want her on our payroll. I want her . . . my core tightens when my big brain begins to work again. She might be fucking gorgeous and a wet dream, but I can’t act on it. She’s my friend’s little sister. Plus, I’ve never mixed business with sex before.
Thank fuck I decided to send her to Hazel’s house. I can’t imagine her staying with Scott and me. One of us would be having flower girl for dinner . . . and lunch. It wouldn’t be my brother because I’d kill him if he tried. Just like I’m not allowed to sleep around with my sibling’s employees, they aren’t allowed to sleep with anyone who is linked to my business. Not that Fitzhenry follows those rules.
My phone buzzes on my way downstairs. I ignore it until I arrive at the lobby.
Hazel: I have a bedroom available. The question is, why do you need a room for the next couple of months?
Harrison: If I tell you . . .
Hazel: Cut the crap, Everhart. If you tell me, I might say yes.
I huff, what happened to my happy girl?
Harrison: Anyone know why our little ray of sunshine is angry at the world?
Hunter: Scott, I thought you were going to tell him.
Scott: At dinner, I said that it’d be during tonight’s dinner.
Harrison: What happened to our girl?
Scott: Her mother committed suicide, and her father is in jail.
Harrison: Why is he in jail?
Hunter: He claimed to have pushed his wife.
Scott: He meant metaphorically since he wanted her to go to therapy.
My heart stops. I read his texts three times. Hazel’s mother was mentally ill, undiagnosed, and estranged from her daughters. They practically abandoned them at a young age. Hazel has been trying to help them with the hope that someday they will decide to move closer to her.
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