She wouldn’t succeed, I told herself fiercely. I brushed out my dark hair and looked again at my skin, my lips, my eyes. So what if I wasn’t as tall as some of the other wives, as blonde, as pouty-lipped? I was still pretty enough, and I would make myself a good enough fiancée that Adrian would see my worth. A woman who could be pretty was easy to find, but one who could be trusted with every aspect of a CEO’s life was rare. And if he wanted someone prettier, he could always take a mistress. I knew the rules of this life.
I tore my gaze away from the mirror and padded to the bedroom, where I pulled on my nightgown. Adrian hadn’t approved of it, saying it was too provocative, but I clung to it as my lone defiance. The satin slid over my skin, cupping my hips and shimmering sapphire blue in the dim light, and black lace covered my breasts. I took a moment to admire myself in the long mirror, almost shyly, before going to the bed.
The book. I’d forgotten it in the living room, and I could finish her chapter before getting some rest. I had lost herself in the story of a young woman traveling the Scottish coast, writing about her ancestors, and I was dragging the book out as long as possible to savor every moment.
I stopped with a squeak as I rounded the corner into the living room. My book was where I’d left it, beside the couch, but on the couch…
Was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life. He was wearing a suit that showed all too clearly how well muscled he was, and a sharp jaw was covered in faint stubble and offset by full, sensuous lips. His nose looked like it had been broken, perhaps more than once, but the faint bump seemed to do nothing but make him handsomer. His eyes, the purest blue I had ever seen, seemed to burn into me, and I steadied herself against the wall, wondering if this could be real.
“I…um…”
And that was when I noticed what I should have seen first.
He was holding a gun.
Chapter 3
Jack
I had been waiting for her to fall asleep, but when her footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, I knew this was better. Cleaner. She would come to me. I felt the solidity of the gun in my hands and waited, curious. I shouldn’t be curious. It was nothing to me, who this woman was and what she had done. Her story didn’t matter at all. When I saw her, I would pick up the gun and fire. That was all there was to this.
And then the footsteps came around the corner, and I froze.
They’d given me the wrong apartment. The woman in front of me was a vision in sapphire silk and black lace, slim curves cupped by shimmering fabric, drying hair falling over bare shoulders. Green eyes flared with surprise, and perfect pink lips parted… For a moment, those eyes took me in, all of me, and I thought I saw them trace over muscles, over—
I was on my feet, pushing away the vision of pressing her up against the wall and kissing her senseless. She was a witness, and the last one I’d ever wanted. Cursing Adrian Witte to hell, I made my first mistake of the night.
I decided to let her go.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” My voice was low and urgent. I crossed the room to hold her by the arms, and a flicker of my eyes caught a growing bruise on one. Was this the right apartment? Had the target brought in a lover?
It didn’t matter.
“I need to find Ms. Thomas. Can you help me with that?”
Her mouth worked silently, and she gave a breathless little sound. She was perfection, short to my tall, softly curved where I was nothing but hard edges and scars. Where they’d found a woman who looked so innocent, I couldn’t say. She was trembling under my touch as if no one had ever touched her before.
Or as if she was afraid, because a man with a gun was staring down at her. I couldn’t let some idiotic instinct get the better of me.
“Do you know where she is?” I had learned that when people were struck dumb, phrasing a question another way could help them answer.
“I…” She looked around herself, as if searching for any clue to make sense of my presence. “I’m Lara Thomas.”
The world dropped out from under me and my hands clenched around her arms. When she hissed in pain, I released her hastily, and grimaced as she rubbed at the bruise.
I pushed her away, head spinning. If she was Lara Thomas, how cunning must she be, how ideally suited to be an underworld boss? She was the best actress I had ever seen, and far, far more dangerous than they’d given her credit for. Or…
“How do you know Adrian Witte?” My voice was harsh.
“I’m his fiancée,” she said promptly. She sounded a little bit lost. “Please…who are you?”
“You’re his fiancée?”
“Yes. Sir…”
It was the sir that did it. This woman wasn’t armed, wasn’t moving. She hadn’t made a distress call or threatened me. She was trying to be polite, and that alone meant that she wasn’t the sort of person I should have been hired for.
Fuck.
“Have you always lived here?” I kept my voice as level as I could. I was stalling, but I had no idea what to do next. I had never failed at a job—that was the fact I had built my whole reputation on.
“Well, not always.” She lifted a shoulder, bemused. “A year, maybe.” She seemed to remember who she was talking to. “Why are you looking for me?”
I saw myself do it. In my mind’s eye, I saw my arm come up and my finger squeeze. One shot, no way I could miss at this range. No answers. I always got the job done, and this one would be stupidly easy. There was no way she could fight me and win.
“You need to come with me right now.” My voice was abrupt. I leaned, caught the light switch in my hand, toggled it.
The signal.
“What?”
Good question. What the hell was I doing? “We need to leave. There are men on their way to this apartment, and if they find you here, they will hurt you.”
Her face went white. “Who?”
Adrian’s cleanup crew. “Not important.” I pushed her toward the door. “Come with me.”
“I need to get a coat—or something—”
“No time.” I opened the door and looked up and down the hall before hauling her out and making for the stairs. How long until they came? Two minutes? Three? This had been risky, but we could hardly stroll out the back door with them still there. I hauled her up next to me by the exit stairs as I listened. “Do not make a sound,” I breathed in her ear.
She trembled, her arm in my grasp, and I had to swallow hard to try to remember myself with the wave of lust that shot through me. She stood frozen as I eased the door open. No sound yet on the stairs.
I pushed her up the stairs. One flight, then two. That was enough. We couldn’t stretch the time it would take to get back down. I pushed her into the corner by the door and set a finger to my lips—then, on the whim of some long-unnecessary gentlemanly instinct, pulled off my suit jacket and handed it to her. She was shivering, the gentleman in me said.
The bastard in me had a different explanation for it. If I saw those perfect breasts trembling with her shivers, nipples peaked under black lace, I was going to do something I would regret. I was careful to look only at her face as I held a finger to my lips, and she nodded jerkily. Her eyes were wide.
It wasn’t long before the door on the first floor slammed open. She flinched at the sound, turning her face away as if she’d been slapped, and I reached out to take her in my arms.
I jerked my hands back a second later. Seriously, what the goddamned hell was I doing?
Making the biggest mistake of your life, part of me whispered. Kill her here. No witnesses.
She was an innocent. Some part of me I had thought was dead roared to life. People like this woman were the reason I did what I did—they weren’t the ones I killed. As the footsteps drew closer and I saw a tear make its way down her cheek, I move to shield her with my body. My right hand was solid on the grip of the gun, and my left splayed against her lower back, pulling her close.
It was useless, a useless piece of comfort, but I felt h
er relax against me and it was all I could do not to let my fingers clench against her. Heat coiled in my stomach. Between this and the adrenaline, my whole system was on overdrive. She was soft, fitting perfectly against me, and it was all I could do to keep my breathing level as the footsteps came closer.
“He didn’t come out. Did you see him come out?”
Shit. I froze.
“Maybe he’s waiting. They said he knew what he was doing.” Another voice was impatient. “Look, you stay here. We’ll go get her.”
I felt her mouth open in a cry and I yanked her back, shaking my head. My eyes locked with hers and she pressed her lips together. Her hands were over her mouth, her eyes filled with horror.
And then I saw it. I saw it all: the faint redness around her eyes, the bruise on her arm I’d noticed and thought nothing of, the fear.
The fury in my chest was white hot. I slipped the gun into my pocket for a moment and pried her hands gently away from her mouth. She looked up at me, utterly innocent, her lips parted in confusion as I pressed her hands over her ears and nodded. I held up one finger to her, and a hand to wait. She couldn’t see what I was about to do. She couldn’t hear.
I walked down the stairs without trying to hide the sound. I didn’t have the time for stealth.
And I didn’t need it. None of these guys had ever seen me before, and I’d worn a suit precisely so I could move around this building without attracting attention. I gave a friendly, impersonal smile as I came around the landing.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” The guy gave a worried look at the door, and I wondered, with a certain wry amusement, if he’d try to kill me.
He missed his window. Too late, he realized that I hadn’t turned to go down the next flight, and by then he had no time to do anything other than open his mouth in horror as I hauled him sideways. His neck broke easily and I hoisted the body up over my shoulders in the same movement. Back up the stairs would be the best hiding place. They couldn’t see where he’d gone.
I dumped his body on one landing, trying not to see how young he was—he’d known he was removing the dead body of an innocent woman, I told myself—and took the rest of the stairs two at a time. We needed to get out. Right now.
She was waiting where I had left her and I gestured for her to come to me and put her hands down.
“No matter what happens—” I looked up at her, a few stairs above me. “—no matter what you see, do not say a word. Come on.” She was shaking so hard that she couldn’t move, and I swept her up in my arms without a thought. “Close your eyes. Just for a bit, okay?”
“Okay.” Her teeth were chattering; shock, I supposed. She squeezed her eyes closed and nestled her head into the crook of my neck.
Dear Lord in Heaven. I tried not to let my body respond as I hurried down the first flight, past the body, and down the second. It was two flights later that I jostled her slightly in my arms. I needed to think, and having her pressed against me like this was doing things to my mind.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.” Her whisper slid over the skin of my neck, and I set her down more hastily than I should have.
“Good. Run.”
We took the stairs as fast as we could. Twenty flights to go, and she had her jaw set with determination.
Eighteen, and I saw her wince every time she put her foot down. She had no shoes, I remembered.
Fifteen, and she was looking over her shoulder. I squeezed her hand and shook my head warningly. She needed not to look back. She needed to run.
God, this was the stupidest thing I had ever done.
Ten flights, and her breath was coming harsh. Adrenaline had given way to shock, and she was trying to keep herself upright, but the cocktail of drugs did a number on those who weren’t used to it.
Five flights, and I heard the door slam open upstairs.
“Tom? Tom?”
Oh God. Her lips moved but she made no sound.
No time for subtlety anymore. I pulled her as fast as I could, down the stairs, slamming my way out into the night.
An engine revved softly nearby, and I smiled coldly. The getaway car. Thank God.
“Wait.” I left her around the corner and yanked the passenger door of the SUV open. One shot, and the driver slumped in his seat. I pulled him out. “Lara?”
“Here.”
“Get in.” I hauled her inside. “And wear your seatbelt.”
“Where are we—what did you—”
“No questions.” My voice was hard as I backed up and peeled out of the parking garage. “You, duck. And don’t talk—I need to think.”
Chapter 4
Lara
The man slammed down on the accelerator and I rocked back in my seat. I wrapped my arms around my knees, shaking. I was going to throw up and I couldn’t do that. I was going to ruin his coat if I threw up.
The absurdity of it hit me the next minute and I started to laugh. I saw him jerk his head over at me, those beautiful eyes narrowing before his jaw set and he looked over to the road again. I knew he didn’t want me to be laughing, but I couldn’t have stopped for anything. I wasn’t stupid, I knew he had just killed two people who were after me for some reason I couldn’t guess. He had just…killed them. Like it was nothing.
For you, something inside me whispered, and that, at last, stopped the laughing. I found myself staring at him, my lips parted, my eyes tracing over the line of his jaw, the curve of his full lips, the bump of his nose.
“What?”
“What?”
“Why are you looking at me?” His voice was harsh, and I jerked back, caught out.
“I—wasn’t—” I shook my head. “You saved my life.”
He cursed under his breath.
“Thank you?” I offered.
That didn’t seem to make it better. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and he swallowed before blowing his breath out. “I need you to get in the back.”
“What?”
“I need someone to tell me if we’re being followed.” He jerked his head. “Get in the back, and tell me about anyone who’s driving oddly.”
“This is New York,” I muttered. “What does driving oddly even mean here?” But I complied, and I had the chance to see a shadow of a grin as I did.
It made my chest feel warm, that smile—and knowing I’d prompted it. I stared at the back of his head for a moment, trying to come up with another joke, and then realized how stupid that was. I settled myself on the back see, hiding my head behind the headrest as I peeked out.
“Where’d you learn to do that?”
I looked around. He was watching me in the rearview mirror. I shrugged.
“I just thought…it would probably be good.”
“It’s smart.” He sounded like he approved. “See anyone?”
“No one yet—wait.” I clutched the back of the seat. Two cars had just pulled out from a side street and were accelerating—fast.
“Talk to me.”
“Two cars. I mean, it’s probably nothing.” But it wasn’t nothing, and we both knew it. I narrowed my eyes at them, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Facts helped dull the roar of adrenaline. “Um. One’s taller. A big SUV? The other looks like a sedan.”
“Good. Now, hold on, and keep your eyes on them.”
Yes, sir. I clamped my lips shut on that, but it seemed like the thing to say. He had an aura of command about him that I couldn’t understand. I clutched the back of the seat as he switched lanes quickly, and my breath hitched when the two cars swerved as well.
“They’re following us.” My voice was quavering.
“Lara, I need you to focus.” Whatever tumble of emotions I had seen in his eyes on the stairs, they were gone now. He was all facts. “Just tell me what you see. Don’t say anything else. Don’t even think anything else. Just what you see.”
That sounded a lot more manageable than literally anything else about this night. I gulped. “Right. They’re go
ing…wide. Flanking?” Was that even a thing?
It must have been, because he speeded up.
“Are they picking up speed?”
“Yes, but they’re having trouble. The one on the right is going faster. I mean, your left.”
“Thank you. Hold on.”
“Wh—” But a second later, as he gunned the gas and the car jerked to the left, I knew why. Honks sounded as the rest of the traffic missed up by inches, and the car that had been tailing us tried to screech to a stop. It didn’t quite make it, and I saw it speed off to try to cut us off.
“Get ready to get out,” the man called over his shoulder. “We have a few blocks, but get ready, okay? You’re going to get out of the right side of the car, go in the door, and go up the stairs. Don’t look back.” He tossed some keys over his shoulder. “It’s the one with the blue marking.”
I sorted them with trembling fingers and clutched the correct key in one hand, holding his coat shut with the other. “What about you?”
His eyes met mine for a moment in the mirror and I saw a sudden warmth there. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.” I was shaking again now that I wasn’t looking at the road. I needed to focus, or I wouldn’t be able to get the door open. Head still down, I scooted to the other side of the backseat, and earned another approving nod.
“We’re going to take a sharp turn, and as soon as you hear me apply the brakes, get your door open, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”
“As soon as you—” But the car turned and screeched to a stop, and I was already following his instructions. I tumbled out, bare feet on pavement, and fumbled to open the door. His car was already gone, and I had only just pulled the door closed behind me when I heard the screech of tires and another car speeding down the alleyway.
HUNTED: A Bad Boy Romance (Books 1-5) Page 2
