A Love of Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 1)

by Nancy Haviland

  “There are a few people I’d like to see before I go. So I’ll be here a little longer. Will you be back?” she asked. He thought he heard a hopeful note in her voice.

  “Absolutely. I won’t be long.”

  “Good.”

  With that softly delivered ego boost ringing in his ears, he turned on his heel and got the hell away from her drugging lure. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he snarled at Jak as he went by, feeling Quan settle at his left flank.

  He stormed his way down the busy corridor, blind to the tuxedos and evening gowns scattering like roaches to get out of his way. Keeping his head down, he dialed as he went through the lobby and solarium, passing the guests admiring the tall trees and lush greenery spread in every direction.

  “You should be flattered as hell.”

  He listened to the phone ring in one ear as Quan’s comment filtered into the other. “Why?”

  “The look on her face when she first saw you?” Quan’s chuckle was all about male appreciation. “You should be flattered as hell. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Gabriel’s chest tightened with pleasure as he recalled the glow of recognition that had lit her eyes when she’d first spotted him, the interest. He was so goddamned flattered it was mortifying.

  But other things needed his attention right now. There was no way in hell Alek would have demanded a call back so quickly unless something had happened.

  “I just hung up with Vincente,” Alek informed him on answering. “He circled around after leaving your brother and dropped in on that damned talented PI, who just so happened to have a very fat file all about Stefano Moretti’s little bro. Over a year long, my friend. There was no information on exactly who Eva is, but they know something is tying you to her.”

  “Description?” The guy had only been doing his job, but that didn’t mean Gabriel wasn’t going to let the PI know he’d gotten into bed with the wrong brother, and if he didn’t climb out, the man was done.

  “Quan and Jak have it.”

  Quan held up his phone; a rounded face was front and center on the screen. Gabriel leaned in and stored the image as Alek went on.

  “Apparently, the guy has quite an eye for detail—we should snap him up. Vincente said there were photos of you all over New York, with Eva’s image circled in red in the background.”

  Fury bloomed in Gabriel’s chest, but he tamped it down. Vasily was going to want his head on a pike. “He’s gunning for her.” Statement. Not question.

  Alek’s sigh wasn’t encouraging. “Looks like it. Stefano has one of his boys heading our way. Vincente said his name is Skars, but that’s all he got. V has Maksim working his IT skills on finding out more, but until he does, he said to be on alert. Stefano specified Eva isn’t to be touched, but who knows how loyal Skars is. Maybe he doesn’t take direction well. And just so you know, I’ll be staying in Seattle until this is settled.”

  “You’re upstairs?”

  “Yes. Sadly, I’m coming to see this suite as home. Never would have expected that when we got the place.”

  “Nice.”

  “Well, after yesterday, I had a feeling things were going south. And she is family. The only female cousin I have, actually.”

  “Thanks, brother. I’m glad you’re here.” Gabriel’s gratitude was sincere.

  Quan nodded, indicating Gabriel should look over his shoulder. He turned to the stone terrace that stretched the entire rear of the hotel and was instantly captivated by what he saw beyond the thick glass of the window.

  Eva drifted across the way to lean on the iron railing that overlooked the darkened gardens. There were only a few others out there, and they were already heading back toward the ballroom doors.

  Where the fuck was Jak?

  His eyes narrowed. Why was Eva wiping at her face? Was she . . . crying?

  A weight settled on his chest. He didn’t like the idea that she was hurting. It bothered him.

  “Listen, G.” Alek’s voice startled him. He was still holding the phone to his ear. “Maybe you should—”

  Without a word he disconnected the call, adrenaline kicking into his bloodstream when he saw Eva turn to look over her shoulder. He shifted his gaze to see why and nearly went through the window. A guy was loping over to the shadows where she stood. Completely alone.

  At any other time, an unidentified male homing in on a woman like Eva with a look of such interest would be nothing but hunting. This wasn’t any other time. The guy didn’t look as though he belonged here, not one damn bit. He had to be Stefano’s.

  Despite the few guests strolling nearby, Gabriel broke into a sprint. Quan followed suit as he made for the only exit at the far end of the solarium.

  In the opposite direction from where Eva was.

  CHAPTER 5

  Eva leaned on the railing in the quiet gardens of the hotel and listened to the soft rush high above as a mild breeze feathered through the leaves on the trees. She took a tissue out of her evening bag—she’d needed them after all—and dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. She’d found her mother’s small group of friends sitting at a table near the doors leading out to the stone terrace and had gladly welcomed the round of hugs as the trio that used to be a quad fawned over her just like her mom used to. She’d sat and chatted for a bit, and had just started to decompress, when Corrine Horton—the harmless busybody of the bunch—had zeroed in on the fact that Eva was alone.

  “Why didn’t you bring your date to meet us, darling? We wouldn’t have embarrassed you.” Corrine had patted her short, perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair and smiled in such a way that said they certainly would have.

  “I came alone,” she supplied.

  “Sweetie,” Danielle cooed, leaning over to cover her hand, the chunky ring on her forefinger so heavy Eva was sure it would leave an indent. “Kathryn told us about your . . . fear. She was so worried about you. She knew why you didn’t date like other girls your age. But, sweetie, you have no idea how much she regretted allowing you to see her pain over your father. Even more, she regretted allowing that pain to affect her so strongly at all. How often, girls,” she put to Corrine and Marilyn, “did Kat say she’d wished she’d been stronger for Eva?”

  “Too often,” Marilyn confirmed. Corrine nodded in agreement.

  “She didn’t want you to be alone, Eva. Yes, she loved that you’re an independent, strong woman, but then, look who raised you,” she said with a shimmer in her eye that caused an ache to form in Eva’s throat. “But she wanted you to be happy. Loved and happy, sweetie. Don’t let what that man did affect your life as negatively as Kathryn allowed it to affect hers.”

  “Did she ever tell you his name?” Eva blurted, shocking herself. Why would she ask that? She wasn’t really considering looking him up . . . was she?

  “Oh, no,” Corrine shook her head quickly, bracelets jangling as she waved a finger like a wiper blade. “Too dangerous, she’d said more than on—” She seemed to check herself and rushed to clarify. “Too dangerous to her peace of mind, too painful for her. He’s in the past anyway. It’s time for a fresh start. It’s what Kathryn wanted.”

  Having reached her limit, her tears hovering, Eva had excused herself and come out for some air.

  She watched the play of shadows the leaves made on the pressed stone. Why had Corrine used the word dangerous? Seemed a little melodramatic to her. How could her mother telling her friends her father’s name be dangerous? To her peace of mind? Had her mom been so fragile where Eva’s father was concerned that hearing his actual name would have hurt that much more? God. What would it be like to share a love like that with someone?

  Gabriel Moore’s image shimmered through her mind. She’d bet her virginity that he loved like that. Fiercely and entirely.

  She wasn’t sure why she would assume that, having only had one conversation with the man.

  Maybe because he’d been so focused and attentive. So . . . capti
vating. She smiled as she tucked the tissue into her bag. Lucky her mom’s friends hadn’t seen her with him earlier. Had she introduced him as the owner of the hotel they’d have had her married off before she could blink.

  Footsteps sounded, and she turned to see a blond man in a dark suit approaching. He stopped a short distance away. “Ah, there you are.”

  Alarm bells clanged in her mind when the stranger’s eyes darted around, as if checking to see who was near them. Despite his suit, there was something a bit wild about him. Definitely not the typical benefit fund-raiser type. Adrenaline seeped into her system, her scalp prickling when she followed his gaze and saw that she’d walked farther from the ballroom doors than she’d realized—the sounds of the gathering were much more muted out here in the shadows.

  “You were looking for me? Specifically?” She carefully pushed herself off the railing, ready to bolt if he came any closer. Not that she could move very quickly in her heels. “Do I know you?”

  His thin lips stretched into a feral smile and he sidled over, effectively blocking her escape. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m just here to give you a message.”

  Eva’s heart lodged in her throat. A message? Stefano Moretti’s empty eyes filled her mind as she glanced around once more. Why wasn’t anyone else out here?

  As if on cue, an amplified voice came over the sound system inside to introduce the first speaker of the evening, followed by the polite applause of the assembled guests.

  That explained why she was outside alone.

  Eva focused her complete attention on the man in front of her. They were about the same height, but he outweighed her by at least thirty pounds.

  Eyes, throat, groin. Eyes, throat, groin. Eyes, throat . . .

  Caleb had drilled the trio into her and Nika’s heads before every date they’d gone on. He’d even been so thorough in his self-defense training to teach them the proper way to hold a knife and how to shoot a gun. Either of which she wished she had right then, though whether she’d have the nerve to use one she wasn’t sure.

  “This message,” she said, silently cursing when her voice wavered. “Did my boyfriend send you out to deliver it? He’s not very patient, I’m afraid.” Hopefully if he thought someone knew she was out there, he’d leave her alone.

  The man didn’t comment, only watched her like a cobra about to strike.

  And that was her cue. She stepped to the side, trying to squeeze between him and a stone bench, but his hand shot out and latched on to her wrist. He jerked her roughly into his body and she froze, caught completely off guard by the bold move. And his surprising strength.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, anger joining the panic in her chest. “Let. Go!” She yanked futilely at her trapped wrist.

  “This isn’t necessary, kitty,” he said, brushing his fingers over her shoulder. She slapped them away and barely heard his, “I just wanted to talk to you,” through the rushing in her ears.

  With a quick move Eva jerked away from him and, using the momentum, slammed her elbow into his solar plexus, just like Caleb had taught her. A burst of whiskey-scented air shot out of his mouth as he bent over, but still he didn’t release her wrist. She pulled, tensing to lift her knee, just as a huge dark shadow appeared out of nowhere and ripped the man away.

  “You fucking dare to touch her?”

  Eva’s legs almost buckled as Gabriel yanked her attacker farther into the darkness. His fist swung around, and she heard the crack of knuckle on bone. Blood instantly flowed from the blond’s broken nose, the shiny liquid black in the dim light as it ran over his lips and down his chin.

  The man sputtered. “You won’t stop—”

  Gabriel’s fist connected once more, effectively shutting the guy up and perhaps shattering a few teeth in the process. Faster than she would have expected, the blond snaked around and broke Gabriel’s hold. He reached down to his ankle and came up twirling a knife. He swung his arm out. The blade narrowly missed Gabriel’s wide chest as he moved lithely to the side. The two circled each other. Within moments, the blond lunged again. But Gabriel was too fast, his expression tight, terrifying. With one deft move he had the attacker’s hand—the one holding the knife—in his grip. He jammed his knee into the man’s stomach and snatched the falling blade when it would have clattered to the ground. Ending it, he delivered a solid backhand to her assailant’s temple that caused the blond to fly backward and land in a crumpled, unmoving heap on the hard stone.

  It was over in seconds.

  With her hands tented over her mouth, Eva went to cross over to Gabriel but was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She barely swallowed a shriek as she spun.

  “It’s okay,” said a striking Asian man who had his hands up, palms out in that gesture men used to show a woman they meant no harm. Had this guy been behind her the entire time? “I’m with Gabriel,” he said, then repeated, “It’s okay.”

  “That’s Quan.” The deep vibration of Gabriel’s voice carried even when spoken so softly. He turned his attention from the beaten man at his feet. “My security,” he specified in a flat voice before glaring harshly at the man he called Quan. “Where the fuck—”

  Before he could complete his question, another man came upon them from the path leading into the gardens. This one was rough-looking with longish tawny hair. He had a nasty scar on the side of his face that backed up his intimidating I’ll-take-on-anyone demeanor.

  Clearly he’d taken on someone who’d known what they were doing with a sharp object.

  He stomped down the stone path and jumped up the three steps to the terrace in one effortless bound. He went right up to Gabriel, wiping at a steady trickle of blood that had to have impaired his vision because it was running down his forehead and into his eye. But he treated it as if he were swatting lazily at a mosquito. He glanced her way with an expression of regret and then said something she couldn’t hear.

  Whatever it was made Gabriel’s lips tighten to an angry slash. He nodded at the blood. “You okay?”

  Tough guy just snorted and looked insulted by the question.

  “Um, Gabriel?” she began, intending to request she be included in whatever the hell was going on. But before she could, yet another deep male voice came from behind her, this one saying something in a language very much not English.

  She turned to see a new man join their violent little party. This one tall and well-built, with dirty-blond hair that fell boyishly over his forehead. He wore a silky gray button-down and beat-up jeans.

  There was something very familiar about him. As though she’d seen him before but she couldn’t figure out where. She shook her head. No, she was just being paranoid because of the attack. Although, he did resemble David Beckham. Maybe that was it.

  Did they work for Gabriel? Maybe they were security for the hotel. That would explain how they’d come to be here. There had to be cameras . . .

  Eva was distracted from trying to figure this out on her own when Gabriel began speaking to the new guy in what sounded like Russian.

  Russian. Shit. She just couldn’t get away from that, could she?

  When they’d said their fill, both men turned to her, and, from what she could see in the limited light, they didn’t look happy. A gust of wind played around them, and she ignored the sudden need to hide from all of that aggression. Rather, she straightened her spine and injected the right amount of censure in her voice when she suggested politely, “Maybe you can fill us in?” She’d included Quan and the scarred one in her clueless group. No doubt they were as curious as she was.

  Gabriel came over to stand before her. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, tipping her head back with a knuckle under her chin.

  The tender action was unexpected, and it had her chest squeezing tight, her limbs shaking in what she could only assume was a delayed reaction from almost being attacked. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat and nodded, not wanting to show what a girl she was
by freaking out now that the action was over.

  “Are you hurt?” he added, quickly giving her the once-over, the look anything but personal.

  She shook her head, not sure she could trust herself to speak.

  “G, Maks sent us this guy’s pic the other day.” Quan had gone over and now stood looking down at the still-unconscious man.

  “And?” Gabriel’s eyes stayed on her as he spoke. They were dark and angry.

  The pregnant pause stretched, and Gabriel snapped an impatient, “Quan. What the fuck is it?”

  “Sensitive.”

  Her brow furrowed as Gabriel swung away and stalked over to have something whispered in his ear. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “Get him the fuck out of here.”

  Quan bent down and, with remarkable ease, threw the unconscious man over his shoulder, then straightened and headed into the gardens. The Russian speaker and the guy with the scar followed at a leisurely pace.

  Gabriel returned to her side and clasped her upper arm. Little zings of electricity shot up to her shoulder and into her chest as he led her over to a stone bench under an elaborate iron lamppost. He beckoned her to sit before retrieving her evening bag, which had fallen to the ground during the struggle.

  “Where did you learn to throw an elbow like that?” he asked.

  She watched him straighten; her silver purse looked miniscule in his large hands. “Definitely not the same place you did,” she offered, taking another deep breath that settled her heartbeat. “What did he say to you?”

  “Who?”

  “Quan.”

  “Nothing. Are you sure you’re all right?” He stalked over and took up what was left of the bench, then handed her purse to her.

  She nodded and tucked away a strand of hair that had escaped her simple updo. “Yes. Why won’t you tell me?”