“Hell—”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, cutting her off before she could raise her voice and mess up the recording. “I’ll explain more after we’re finished.”
When Elvis launched into “Love Me Tender,” Abby followed Jack’s lead and held on to his arm all the way to the podium as if in a dream. Or was that a nightmare? They stopped in front of Rex. He looked wonderful. Dressed in what appeared to be an expensive black suit, gray silk shirt, and tie, he grabbed her hand and lifted it. Feeling numb, she didn’t even think to protest how tightly he squeezed her fingers.
When Elvis asked her to repeat the vows and she merely stared at him, he covered his discomfort by making a quip about the bride needing a fried peanut butter sandwich for nourishment. Less than two minutes later, Rex/Rurik slipped two rings on her finger, and the preacher/Elvis pronounced them husband and wife and ordered them to kiss.
Rex’s lips pressed hers for a second and then he stepped back. Nothing earth-shattering or romantic about it at all. How often over the years had she dreamed of this moment? What if she hadn’t gone shopping that fateful day and been kidnapped by The Circle? What if they had really gotten married? The kiss would be different, deeper, richer, hotter. What had happened? Her head spun with all the best-forgotten memories racing through her mind. She wanted to scream, Stop!
With a shake of her head, she stumbled off the platform set up for the altar. Rex caught her elbow until she regained her footing, but he didn’t pull her back into his arms. Then Elvis belted out “Viva Las Vegas” in perfect pitch.
She squinted and rubbed her forehead. When would she wake up? Talk about the kookiest dream ever. Through the strange haze, she looked at Rex playing Rurik and wondered if she was also two people. Surely all of this wasn’t happening to her but to someone else.
Everyone shouted and threw flower petals as they walked toward the door. Thankfully the IT fellow stopped filming when they stepped away from the stage area that would fit perfectly in any Las Vegas wedding chapel. They stopped at the conference table, and Rex handed her a pen and pointed at a blank line near the bottom of an official-looking form. She paused and then studied his face. She remembered that look. Molten-gray eyes burned into hers. He wanted her.
She leaned down and signed her name, noting his signature of Rurik Volkov. Before she moved away, Jack lifted the sheet and pointed at another spot. She signed again next to where he placed his finger.
When she straightened, Olivia and Charlie looped their arms through hers and moved her to a chair. She stared off, not focusing on anything around her.
“Abby, are you okay?” Olivia hovered over her, awkwardly patting her shoulder.
“Olivia?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“Quit hovering. You’re scaring me.” The woman never hovered. Abby concentrated on breathing: deep inhale and long exhale.
“Sorry. Your eyes are open so wide, just like the scared raccoon Collin found in the garbage the other day. You’ve got me worried. And to tell you the truth, you need to avoid wearing cream. Beige might be okay, but cream sucks the life out of your skin tone.”
Abby glared at her until Olivia moved away and sat on the other side of the table with her arms crossed, shaking her head, mumbling and shooting her evil looks. In the back of Abby’s mind, she was amazed that Olivia had apologized but to ramble on about colors and skin tones . . . that was enough to scare her. Things must really be bad if a former cold-blooded assassin was rattled by everything going on.
Charlie pulled out a chair nearby, wedged her elbow onto the table, and propped up her head in one hand, smiling.
“So starting this morning, you can jump on that stallion and ride him all you want. But I better warn you not to turn your back on Nic. She’s madder than a puppy in a wet sack.” Charlie nodded to the other end of the room.
Abby glanced over at Nic. Rex was leaning down to let her whisper something in his ear. Judging from the way the woman’s hand clasped his upper arm, nails digging into the material, Nic was upset and wanted Rex to understand how much. But all Abby could think about was how that thick muscled arm belonged to her and Nic needed to let go.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she was ashamed. The whole arrangement was part of a ruse to set up Brody Walker. None of it was real.
She covered her eyes and bowed her head until her forehead rested on the shiny table. A couple solid bumps would help her to think clearly. She stopped banging her head when Charlie snorted.
“How’re you going to explain to your mama about the bruise on your noggin if you keep doing that?” Charlie shoved her on the shoulder.
She was right. Somehow she needed to find a way to explain her new husband, not counting any facial bruising. No need for Rex to be accused of wife beating. Knowing her mom, she’d call the police. Then again, what better way to get him out of her hair so she could do her job? No. His presence was needed to get closer to Brody.
Lord of Mercy, her head hurt.
ARMS CROSSED AND his jaw aching from holding back the need to throw an uppercut into Jack’s smart-ass mouth, Rex halfway listened to Nic’s complaints.
“Did you hear anything I said?” Her dark eyes flashed in irritation.
“Tell Jack how you feel about it. This is all his idea.”
“He won’t listen to me. But maybe if I insist on field time again, I can be helpful,” Nic said with her usual furor. “You know, by speeding up the mission, there will be no need to be alone with her. I’ll think of something.” She patted his arm. “Thanks. Let me see what I can come up with.” Before he could stop her, she pressed her lips to his cheek and flounced off.
He drew his attention back to Abby. She lowered her head to the table and slammed into it a few times. Charlie spoke to her and she stopped. Hell, that proved she hated how his brother had tricked them into going along with his harebrained scheme as much as he did.
But maybe it would work. They needed Brody to believe they were what they appeared: a newly married couple in love and the groom involved in similar illicit work. A perfect reason for him to stay near Abby and keep her safe, while using every minute they had together pulling answers out of her. She’d always been closemouthed. Case in point was the family she’d never mentioned. Yet, he knew of several inventive ways to loosen her up and get her to talk.
Rolling his shoulders, he wanted out of this monkey suit his brother had insisted he wear, and more importantly, he wanted that infuriating woman alone.
His gaze remained on Abby as she listened to her friends. Her brief smile shot liquid fire from his heart to his groin.
She looked beautiful. If The Circle hadn’t interfered all those years ago, they might’ve been parents by now, or at the very least enjoyed years of being in the same bed. All that smooth skin and dark hair spread out for him to taste and touch. He shifted and tugged at the end of his jacket, covering any visible evidence of how looking at her affected him.
A flash of metal on his hand caught his attention. He’d never worn a ring, and he’d expected to be annoyed by the feel, but he rather liked how it reminded him of Abby. When Jack had handed the rings over and she had slipped one on his finger, it had struck him that she’d be wearing a ring like his, a sign of ownership. He’d liked that. He’d liked it very much. Maybe too much.
He looked at Abby and the ring on her hand sparkled under the office lights. Hell, yeah. No matter what anyone said, she belonged to him.
ABBY SNEAKED A look at Rex. He towered over all the men in the room except Liam, but where Liam was whipcord lean, Rex’s thick muscles and solid build gave him an appearance of a football player, a dangerous-looking one with a scar and military haircut.
Over the next thirty minutes, they stood in front of a beautiful white wedding cake and let the photographer do his job. When it came time for the bride and groom to feed each other, she narrowed her eyes in warning. He behaved and didn’t smear the vanilla fluff into her face, but he did take a
dvantage of her hand being close to his mouth. His tongue darted out and licked the center of her palm. She squeezed her thighs together. Oh, that feels so good.
She needed to get away from him, even if by a few feet. As soon as she could, she strode over to a chair and flopped into it. When Jack suggested taking pictures of her throwing the bouquet, she refused to budge. No more playacting. When the real deal came along, she didn’t want to compare it to the pretend one. Truth be told, nothing could compare to having an Elvis-style wedding. Unable to resist, she lifted her gaze to Rex and corrected herself: nothing could compare to having an Elvis-style wedding, with a dangerously sexy man as the groom.
Jerking her thoughts to the mission ahead, she said, “That’s enough. Even the president of the United States would believe we’re married.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you think we need that many pictures. It’s not like my mom will ask to see them. She’s going to be pissed enough with me eloping.” With one shoe off, she rubbed her foot. “Don’t we need to head to Birmingham?” The plain brass nautical clock on Jack’s desk showed it was after one p.m.
“You two go and change clothes. I’ll meet you back here in thirty minutes.” Jack waved them off as he talked into his cell phone.
ABBY EXAMINED THE ceiling of the elevator as she rode up with Rex. The temperature rose with each floor they passed.
“You’re beautiful in that dress.”
Pulled by his soft voice, she looked up and touched the back of her neck. She took a deep breath. Why didn’t they ventilate these boxes? “Thanks.” She forced her gaze to look at anything but him. The picture of him filling out the perfectly cut jacket was forever branded on her retinas.
“Abby―”
As soon as the steel panel opened, she hurried to her suite and shut the door behind her, blocking Rex and all thoughts of him. They never locked their doors in the OS Sector. Who would dare steal from them? She only hoped he wouldn’t try to follow her. If he just gave her a few minutes to regroup.
In seconds, she stripped off the dress and carefully hung it in her closet. She decided to wear a simple flair skirt and wraparound top. The royal blue and bright white complemented her olive skin. What would Rex think of her dressing in two feminine outfits in one day?
She laughed. Why did it matter? They were playing a part and nothing more. As soon as he learned about the baby, he wouldn’t have anything more to do with her. He’d deserved to know but it was so long ago. She shook her head. Standing there and debating the right and wrong of what had happened was hopeless.
Had she screwed up again?
Straightening her shoulders, she opened the door and headed back to Jack’s office. Relieved not to run into Rex and deal with the mixed bag of emotions he invoked, she walked in and stared. Nothing remained of the wedding. Seeing everything back in place brought a weird feeling of desolation over her. Refusing to dwell on it, she looked at Jack and Rex.
“What?” Their sudden silence brought out her insecurities. “Did I interrupt your secrets?”
“Come and sit down. We don’t have a lot of time. The party starts at eight. As usual, we’ll have a few operatives on hand. If you have any trouble, just signal to one of us.” Jack leaned back in his chair.
“We really don’t need to go over the plan again.” Rex stood. The white sport shirt and dark slacks showed off his broad shoulders and firm buttocks. She caught herself before sighing out loud.
“Humor me. We’ve ensured the news of your recent nuptials reached Brody, and he knows you both will be at the party. Play it safe. Get him interested in the two of you. That will be your ticket to one of his private parties at his farm. Then maybe you can find hints on who designed the ammo and where the facility is located.” Jack handed a large brown envelope to Rex.
Abby knew inside the envelope was everything needed to don their new personas: Mr. and Mrs. Rurik Volkov. A few short minutes later, they drove out of the underground garage, heading toward I-20 and Birmingham.
Abby appreciated well-built cars, and the Cadillac CTS provided by The Circle for their cover didn’t disappoint. She leaned back, enjoying the luxury of the soft leather and new car smell. Her old Honda Accord didn’t compare.
Rolling her head on the support to watch Rex, she decided the car suited him perfectly. Her gaze dropped and returned to his profile. He oozed sex and danger.
“Do I have cake on my face?” he asked.
“Was this your idea?”
He glanced her way and then returned his attention to the interstate. “No.”
“When did Jack tell you?”
“This morning when he woke me up.”
“I wish he’d warned me.”
She was married. Yet not really. But they were expected to act married. Her fingers curled into her skirt. The freedom of knowing she could touch him and pretend it was part of the job had her aching to feel his warm skin beneath her fingertips, to taste the curve of his neck, and to inhale the manly scent only Rex possessed. Her nipples tingled with the thought of rubbing her naked breasts against his chest.
“That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”
“What?” That she dreamed of being naked and sated in his bed again? Face flushed, she turned away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“You’re quiet. Not filling in the silence with chatter.”
“I’m not much for talking to talk.” Her dad had been soft-spoken and said only what was needed. She figured she took after him.
Who did Rex take after? As much as Rex loved to talk, he never mentioned his dad. A couple times he mentioned his mom, but she had no idea if either of his parents lived.
She coughed to clear her throat. “Are both of your parents living?”
“They’re dead.”
“I’m sorry.” From the unusual two-word answer, she guessed he’d rather not talk about them. “Do you have any other siblings besides Jack?”
“Nope. Just me and Jack.” He glanced her way before returning his attention to the road. “Why the sudden interest?”
“I guess since you’re about to meet my family, it feels strange not to know anything really about yours.” She felt so exposed while his life remained closed to her.
“Jack and I were teenagers when our parents died. There isn’t really much to tell. My dad beat my mom to death and then he turned up dead the next day. The police said it was suicide.”
His voice sounded flat as if repeating a story that had happened to someone else.
Unable to think of anything to say, she patted his thigh. He placed his hand over hers before she could move it away.
Frustrated with her body’s reaction to his touch, she slipped her hand out from under his and crossed her arms, staring out the passenger window.
How sad to lose both parents so close together and in such a horrific way. She wondered if an aunt or uncle had been there for a gangly young Rex; the image was too heartbreaking to think about.
The clacking of tires running across the interstate filled the car. Her eyelids drifted down and then flipped back open. With so few hours of sleep, she fought to stay awake, but knowing a good driver controlled the wheel and that her body needed to rest, within minutes her body relaxed and she slept.
REX CHECKED ON Abby. A quick look confirmed what he suspected. She was sound asleep.
He preferred her hair down and not in the ponytail she often wore when she worked, but the pretty clip allowed a few strands to escape, giving her a soft look. The dark brown appeared rich as mink. During those weeks, so long ago, when they had been lovers, her hair fell to her waist, and he often woke with his hands wrapped in it.
She inhaled deeply and shifted in her seat. The top of her blouse gaped. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but his gaze returned to look every couple minutes. Her breasts rested in a bra that barely covered the tips. A faint tan line caught his interest. The swimming suit she owned must be too small, as the paler skin formed what looked like the po
int of a two-inch triangle. Damn. She better not try wearing anything like that around him. Hell, around anyone.
A rough patch on the pavement shook the car. He checked the road and then Abby. The way her breasts swayed and jiggled shot blood and heat into his groin. He swallowed a whimper.
He forced his gaze to move away. What was he? A sixteen-year-old pervert staring at a sleeping woman’s boobs?
With a subtle adjustment of his cock, he glued his eyes to the road but his thoughts refused to stay off Abby and their fake marriage.
Jack and his big fucking ideas. Arranging the wedding as part of the cover-up was so like him. Jack always loved interfering in his life and acted as if he lacked walking-around sense.
What did he think Rex was doing during those years when his big brother worked for The Circle? While Jack was screwing everyone’s daughters, girlfriends, and wives, Rex survived, just barely, especially after receiving the news that Abby had died. For the first year, he hadn’t cared if he lived or died. When Jack left for the other side, Rex regarded him as dead. To work for an organization that hunted and killed OS operatives . . . no pussy was that good. The rumor was that Jack had left the OS to be with Olivia. She’d been The Circle’s lead eliminator.
Rex didn’t see it. The woman was a coldhearted bitch.
What Abby had in common with the woman, he had no idea. One thing for certain, The Circle had changed Abby. Guarded to the point of caginess, she avoided any mention of her time there.
He skimmed a hand across the top of his head.
All of it was a mystery, and in the next few days, he’d learn the truth.
Chapter Seven
* * *
“OH MY GOD! This place is beautiful.” Abby stared at the grand stairway that led to the second-floor master bedroom.
They had arrived at the Wynfrey Hotel moments ago and were immediately brought to the presidential suite on the top two floors. The spacious living area had an actual working fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a suburb of Birmingham.
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