by Cynthia Eden
With her, he was wondering if he’d always want more.
A slow beeping reached him, and Cale frowned. That beeping was coming from their discarded pile of clothes.
Carefully, because he still didn’t want to wake her, Cale climbed from the bed and headed for the clothes. He reached down. Found Cassidy’s phone. The photo flashing on the screen was of Genevieve Chevalier.
“Cale?”
Cassidy’s voice. Sleepy, husky, sexy.
Damn. Those strings were wrapping around him, tighter and tighter, with every second that passed.
The phone had stopped beeping.
He turned toward her. Cassidy pushed up in bed and smiled at him. “You look good in the morning,” she murmured as her eyes slid over him.
Not nearly as good as she did.
But then she frowned. “Was that my phone?” She clutched a sheet to her chest. She didn’t need to cover up on his account. “Has something happened?” A thread of fear leaked through the words.
Nothing new had happened. At least, nothing that he was aware of. Cale cleared his throat. “Your friend…Genevieve. She was calling.”
Her hand reached toward him, grabbing quickly for the phone. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell her goodbye!” Her fingers flew over the phone’s surface. “We raced away so quickly that I—”
His fingers closed over hers. “Don’t tell her where you are.” That was the agent talking, not her lover.
Cassidy stilled. Her lashes rose as she gazed up at him. “Why not? Genevieve is my friend. She isn’t a threat to me.”
Until he could learn more about the attack on her, Cale was viewing everyone as a potential threat. “You were targeted just hours ago. Right now, I’m not willing to risk your safety with anyone. Even your friend.” Actually, he didn’t even want her calling Genevieve back right then. What if the call was tracked? What if—
“Stop it.” Her voice came out low and cold. The ice—that had been the way Cassidy talked to him before. Back in the beginning. When he’d just thought she was a society queen and she’d thought he was an overprotective agent.
Only they were long past that.
Weren’t they? They’d spent a night burning up the sheets. They damn well should have been past it.
“Genevieve is my friend—the oldest friend I’ve got, and I’m calling her back. Something could be wrong. I have to check in with her.” She put the phone to her ear, and, a few seconds later, the call connected. “Genevieve?” A false brightness rang in Cassidy’s voice.
Genevieve might be her friend, or Cassidy might call the other woman that, but it was obvious to Cale that Cassidy wore a mask for the Frenchwoman. She was pretending—and that telling hitch was back in her voice.
Cale wasn’t interested in any false fronts. He wanted the real Cassidy in his bed.
“Genevieve, how are you?” Cassidy asked, still with that too-perfect and happy tone.
He leaned toward her and heard a quick smattering of French in response.
Cassidy laughed. “Yes, I know… I was glad to get out of that hell, too. It was a nightmare.” Her voice roughened a bit as she said, “I’m so glad that you got out of there. I was afraid they’d kill you, Gen.” True emotion was in those words. The real Cassidy, peeking out.
The real Cassidy was a hell of a lot sexier than the fake debutante.
He wanted to touch Cassidy then, but she pulled away, shifting toward the headboard.
He wanted her back.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more before I left Rio. The—the agents whisked me away.”
His eyes narrowed. Had Genevieve heard that little hitch in Cassidy’s voice?
“Since I’m an American citizen, the rescue team had orders to bring me back to the U.S.” Another laugh, one with a brittle edge. “So, of course, I’m back in—”
Cassidy broke off because Cale had touched her. He had to. The agent in him demanded that he stop her. Cale put his index finger over Cassidy’s soft lips.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide in the faint light.
Cale shook his head.
Her breath whispered out against his finger. Then she gave a little nod.
Slowly, his finger slid away from her mouth.
“Where are you, Gen?” Cassidy’s voice was huskier now. “Are you going back to France?”
A beat of silence.
“The U.S.?” Cassidy repeated, sounding shocked. “You’re in D.C.?”
Cale was already reaching for his phone. If Genevieve was in the city, then the EOD needed to know about that situation. Genevieve had been targeted down in Rio, Cassidy had been targeted…and now someone was after Cassidy once more.
Would the same fate befall Genevieve? If the threat was related to the mess with the Executioner, then, yes. But…
What if Cassidy had been targeted last night because of her link to Mercer?
“Where are you staying?” Now there was fear in Cassidy’s voice. “Yes, yes, I know the hotel. Look, don’t leave the room, okay?” Cassidy’s fears must have mirrored Cale’s. “Why? Because—because there are things happening that you don’t know about, Genevieve. I just need you to trust me on this. I’ve got connections in D.C. People who can keep an eye on you. Just…stay inside for now, okay? Stay there.”
Cassidy kept talking as Cale turned away. In just a few moments, he had Gunner on the line. He’d heard the name of Genevieve’s hotel, and he rattled it off to the agent. “We need a team there, just as a precaution,” Cale added, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Until we can figure out what the hell is happening with that attack—”
“Better safe than dead,” Gunner finished bluntly.
Yes. Exactly.
“Especially in light of what Syd’s finding.”
Gunner’s words made a thick knot form in Cale’s stomach. “Just what is Sydney finding?”
“That there is no cash tied to any accounts that link back to Ian Gagnon. The man’s a ghost, one who existed until he was eighteen and then seemingly vanished.” A pause. “You don’t vanish like that. Not without a whole lot of help.”
The kind of help that might go looking for vengeance?
“We need to find out more about Gagnon,” Gunner said. Yeah, they sure as hell did. “I don’t want to mark this case as closed, not until we know the truth. I mean…why else would someone come after Cassidy? As far as I can tell, the only trouble your girl has ever had is with the Executioner. Otherwise, she’s lived a charmed life.”
His girl. Cale’s gaze moved to Cassidy. She’d ended her call. Her skin was pale and perfect in the darkened bedroom.
“A woman like her shouldn’t be on the radar of killers,” Gunner said, voice considering. “She’s not part of our world.”
Gunner was wrong. So wrong. But Cale couldn’t tell him that.
Maybe the attack had been because of Gagnon and not because of Cassidy’s own past.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
“I’m going to stay with Cassidy,” Cale said. Like anyone could pry him away from her. “Get Sydney to continue searching into Gagnon’s past. If the attack on Cassidy is related to him, Sydney will find the link.”
When it came to digging into a person’s past, there was very little that Sydney couldn’t discover with her computer.
His jaw locked. What if Sydney starts digging into Cassidy’s life?
He’d have to warn Mercer. Because knowing Sydney…
She’d already started to dig.
He ended the call and put his phone down on the nightstand.
Cassidy rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with her. “Do you…do you think Genevieve is in any danger?”
“I think Gunner and Sydney need to know exactly who t
hey are dealing with.” Mercer’s daughter. “Because I don’t want them wasting time on a hunt that won’t lead them anyplace.”
Cassidy flinched. “Are you going to Mercer?”
Hell, yes, he was.
“Because you don’t have to do it.” She squared her shoulders. “It’s my life, and I’m the one giving you permission.” Her gaze held his. “Tell your friends who I really am. I’m tired of the lie. I mean, what more can possibly happen to me?”
More than being targeted for death?
Only…death.
And he realized that he wasn’t going to tell Sydney and Gunner the truth. Not yet. He wasn’t going to tell anyone.
Because he wouldn’t let Cassidy be targeted. The instinct to protect her was stronger than anything that he’d ever felt before.
I won’t sacrifice her secrets.
But he would find out who was after her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Logan Quinn rode up the elevator in the elegant D.C. hotel. Music played softly in the elevator’s interior. A classic piece that he figured belonged to one of the old masters. His wife loved that kind of music.
He wasn’t such a fan. Give him some hard and driving rock any day of the week.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Finally, he was able to escape from that music. The lush carpeting muffled his footsteps as he headed down the corridor. Genevieve Chevalier was in room 619. He’d agreed to take guard duty for Genevieve because he knew that Gunner wanted to stay close to Sydney.
He could relate. Logan sure wished his Julie wasn’t so far away. He’d much rather be with her on the quiet beach in Biloxi than in—
Genevieve’s door was ajar, and he could see the telltale red of blood on the beige carpet.
Logan pulled his gun and rushed into the room. “Genevieve!”
A chair was overturned. Bedcovers—bloody covers—were scattered on the floor.
He searched the room swiftly, checking the closet, the bathroom, but Genevieve was gone.
He yanked out his phone. “I was too late,” he told Gunner as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Guarding Genevieve had been a precaution more than anything else. A move just in case that last attack on Sydney had been related to Ian Gagnon.
This wasn’t about precautions anymore.
Because it sure appeared as if the Executioner was coming back from the grave in order to keep stalking his victims.
Logan spun away from the scene and headed back into the hallway. That faint blood trail might help them. It might lead them to Genevieve. “Get me an analysis unit out here,” he said. “As fast as you can.” Every moment that passed put his team at a disadvantage on this hunt.
He could hear Gunner barking orders to the men at the EOD headquarters.
“We’ve got blood at the scene,” Logan said grimly.
Blood and no victim.
So much for leaving the nightmare back in Rio. Genevieve had cheated death once. Would she be able to do it again?
I hope so. Hang on, Genevieve. We’ll find you.
He just hoped they found her alive.
* * *
CASSIDY JUMPED WHEN she heard the loud banging at the front door. She’d just finished dressing, and she hurried out of the bedroom.
Cale was already at the door. Already swinging it open to reveal—
Mercer and Gunner.
Cassidy’s breath caught. The men hadn’t called them. They’d just shown up at the safe house.
She knew that wasn’t a good sign.
Then Mercer’s eyes met hers. “It’s time to go, Cassidy.”
How many times had he said those same words to her? Over and over in her life?
It’s time to go, Cassidy.
At her mother’s grave, when Cassidy had stood there, feeling so broken and alone. He’d pulled her away, despite her tears and pleas.
She’d wanted to stay, just a little longer.
It’s time to go, Cassidy.
At sixteen, she’d been thrilled because she was finally going to attend a party with all of her friends. She’d been dressed, ready to go.
He’d come to her—arrived in one of those big dark cars that he always seemed to use. The kind that had bulletproof windows. He’d been afraid that someone had found out who she really was.
He’d taken her away.
No party that day.
It’s time to go, Cassidy.
More and more instances rolled through her mind.
He always said the same words. Always looked the same. So grim and determined.
When it was her life that was being ripped apart.
Cale took a step toward her.
Mercer lifted a hand and locked it around Cale’s shoulder. “No, son, that would be a mistake.” Mercer’s voice was steely and hard. Most men backed down instantly when Mercer talked that way. She’d sure seen plenty of agents weaken when he used that tone.
But Cale—Cale shrugged away his hold. “I’m not your son.” Then he was stalking toward Cassidy. His gaze met hers. “While you were in the shower, I found out…” The faint lines around his mouth deepened. “I’m sorry to tell you, but Genevieve is gone.”
Her heart beat so fast that she was afraid it would rip through her chest. “Gone?” No, a mistake. Genevieve had said that she’d only arrived in town a few hours ago.
She came looking for me.
Because Genevieve wasn’t close to her family, either. They were both alone, two women who’d found a kinship with each other. Genevieve might not know about Cassidy’s past, but they were friends. They’d been constants in each other’s lives for more years than Cassidy could count.
They were family, damn it.
“By the time Logan arrived at her hotel, she was gone.” This came from Gunner. He’d stepped inside the safe house, making sure to lock the door. He shot a quick glance at Mercer’s stony face; then he studied Cassidy once more as he revealed, “There were signs of foul play at the scene.”
“What kind of signs?” Even as she asked the question, Cassidy knew that she didn’t really want to hear his answer. She didn’t want to hear any more at all.
We were both supposed to be safe. The Executioner is dead. The nightmare should be over.
She might not want to hear the gory details, but Cassidy had long ago learned you couldn’t hide the dark and ugly parts of life, no matter how hard you tried.
Cale’s arm brushed against hers.
He was at her side.
Gunner and Mercer were in front of the door.
“Blood.” Mercer’s reply was blunt. “Overturned furniture. The surveillance system at the hotel was dismantled, so we don’t know who took her—we just know she didn’t go willingly.”
But she’d been taken, and so soon after talking with Cassidy. Her lips felt numb as she said, “She wanted us to meet.”
Mercer took a fast step forward. “You told her that you were in D.C.?”
Cassidy shook her head. “No. I said I wasn’t at my place, here. She thought I was—that was the reason she came to town.” She came here for me, but I turned my back on her. Cassidy forced her chin to stay up. “I told her that I was with a friend. We were together. That I would send someone to watch over her until I could get with her.”
Too late.
“If Genevieve went to Cassidy’s place in order to look for her, then the perp could have seen her there,” Gunner said as his eyes narrowed in consideration. “Seen her, targeted her, then followed her back to the hotel and taken her.”
Her face went from feeling too hot to icy cold. “Why?” Her gaze was on Mercer. “If this is about us—”
Mercer gave a fast, negative shake of his head. His eyes darted to Gunner, then right back to her. �
�Right now, we have to assume Genevieve’s abduction and the attempt on your life are both related to the Executioner. That case isn’t over.”
Ian was dead. Just how much more over could that get? “We have to find Genevieve.” The words were so familiar—because she’d been just as desperate to find her friend back in Rio. This can’t be happening again.
Mercer nodded. “We will find her. I have a team on the job right now. And Sydney’s pulling up every video feed in that hotel’s area—anything that she can get her hands on. She’ll find an image, a car, something that we can use.”
Cassidy realized that her hands had clenched into fists. Fear twisted inside her, growing bigger and stronger with every second that passed. She’d thought that she’d saved Genevieve. That she’d done something right for a change.
But now…
“The city isn’t secure enough for you,” Mercer told her in his hard, growling, I-know-best voice. “There’s a plane waiting for you at the airport.”
Wasn’t there always?
“Gunner will escort you to the terminal. Lancaster will be waiting to board the flight with you. In a few hours, you’ll be—”
Her fists tightened. Her nails dug into her palms. “I’m not running away from this.”
Mercer stalked toward her.
Beside Cassidy, Cale stiffened.
“You aren’t being given a choice,” Mercer said, his voice like arctic ice. “I let you stay here last night while I assessed the situation, but the danger is too great. You’re an asset that won’t be compromised.”
I’m not an asset. I’m your daughter.
But had he ever looked at her that way?
Cassidy shook her head, answering her own question.
Mercer’s eyes narrowed. “I’m the director of the EOD. I’m—”
“I’m a civilian,” Cassidy shot back at him. “So you have no authority over me.”
Surprise flashed briefly in his eyes; then it was shielded by grim determination. “You don’t want to push on this.”
“Yes, I do.” Push for Genevieve’s life? Any day, anytime. “I’m not getting on any plane. I’m staying here, and I’m going to do everything that I can in order to help my friend.”
