Edge of Obsession (SKALS #3)

by Noir, Adriana

  “These potatoes should be done soon,” Irene said, jabbing one of the baby reds with a fork. “I’ve got to hand it to you girls. You two sure know how to throw together one hellacious meal. Everything smells divine.”

  Monique colored and gave a polite smile. “Thank you. It was a lot of work, but it should go over well.”

  “Should?” she exclaimed with no small measure of disbelief. “No offense, honey, but you two are working yourselves to death for no reason. Most men are more than happy to sit down to a warm slab of meat and a hunk of potatoes after a long day.”

  The blonde gave an embarrassed shrug. Taylor wiped her hands on the dishtowel slung over her shoulder and scraped the chunked lobster meat into the pot.

  “That’s true, and Seb is usually pretty easy to please, but he’s bringing his boss home tonight. It doesn’t hurt to take a few extra steps to impress the man.”

  She could almost see the wheels churning. Irene placed the lid back on the potatoes with the beginnings of a coy smile playing on her lips. “This guy must be a pretty big deal to warrant such a fancy meal.”

  “He is a very important man, yes,” Monique said. “But it is also a dinner party. A certain amount of finesse is expected.”

  “Well aren’t we all hoity toity?”

  Monique’s lips flattened into a grim press. A brief spark of hurt and anger flared in her bright green eyes and her back straightened as she turned back to the desserts.

  “Irene…” Taylor said, her voice laced with reproach.

  The redhead’s bracelets clanged together as she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I was just playing. Listen, I didn’t mean any offense, doll. It was just my way of admitting I’m a little out of place. I don’t get all of this high-end, proper dinner party stuff but I wish I did. My idea of a good time is kicking back with a cold beer, a pizza, and laughing with a group of friends. Can you forgive me?”

  Monique’s expression softened and she turned around with a gentle smile. “Of course I can, Irene. There’s nothing to forgive. Honestly, that sounds like a great time to me.”

  “Well, hell. I’m glad that’s settled,” she said, scooping them both together for a brief hug. “We’ll all have to get together and do it sometime then.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Taylor tensed and pulled back at the quiet whir of the garage door. Heart hammering, her eyes darted to Monique’s in a moment of shared panic. Glancing at the clock, she winced. They were home over half an hour early.

  “Hark, the cavalry has arrived,” Irene teased.

  Cursing, Taylor spun and fumbled to get the blender ready to finish the bisque. Monique jerked the pot of potatoes from the stove as Irene scrambled to get out of the way.

  “Jesus! What’s the rush?”

  “You don’t understand. Why?” Monique whimpered, in a quiet plea. “Why is this happening?”

  “Shh now, honey. Everything is going to be okay. What can I do to help?”

  “Finish setting the table…please,” Taylor ordered. “And light the center pieces. There’s a candle lighter in the buffet drawer.”

  “On it, sugar.”

  Blowing out a deep breath, she smoothed her simple black dress and raked her fingers through her hair. There wasn’t enough time to brush it again, let alone sweep it up into a polished coif like Monique’s. She was just going to have to make do with what she had. Snagging her lip between her teeth, she yanked a pen from the drawer beside the refrigerator and speared it through her hair in a quick twist. Monique nodded in approval and tugged a few wisps free.

  “You look beautiful, Tay.”

  Her face scrunched as she cast a worried look toward the laundry room door. “I highly doubt that, but it will have to do for now.”

  She wavered between finishing dinner and going to greet the men. Deciding food was the safest bet when they had guests, she finished blending while Monique whipped the potatoes. A cold chill raced down her spine as Sebastian approached and Marx’s broad shadow fell across the room. The commander had a certain way about him, an unspoken demeanor capable of casting even the brightest of things into darkness. Switching things off, she greeted Sebastian with a welcoming smile. He didn’t return the gesture, but his eyes were soft and questioning as he fingered the pen stuck through her hair.

  “Everything is almost done,” she promised.

  The comment earned her a stiff nod. Forcing herself to breathe, Taylor turned her attention to the other men.

  “Hello, Marx, sir. Josh, it’s nice to see you both again.” She glanced at the young man who’d accompanied them in question, but no introduction was forthcoming.

  Following Sebastian’s lead, Josh offered little more than a tip of his chin, his gaze roaming over Monique until a fearful tremble wracked the blonde’s slender fame. The inexplicable urge to cringe crept over her. Tamping down a shiver of her own, Taylor turned to find herself trapped beneath Marx’s brooding stare. Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, she struggled to find her voice.

  “Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?”

  “I’ll do that, Tay, baby. You just round these handsome boys into the other room and get them fed.”

  Sebastian’s whipped around at the sound of Irene’s voice. He instantly stiffened, large fists balling at his sides. The muscles along his jaw bulged in a savage clench, and Taylor took an uncertain step back as his head swung in her direction. If she could have crawled into a hole and died at that moment, she would have. A dark stain of displeasure infused his cheeks as his glare drilled into her, demanding answers.

  Taking a steadying breath, she fought to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary Irene. You’ve done more than enough. Thank you visiting and for all of your help today, but I know you have to get going.”

  “Is this woman a friend of yours, Miss McAvay?” Marx asked. A hint of amusement rode his broad face as his eyes raked over Irene’s flashy ensemble.

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbled. “Irene and I used to work together at the diner. She was just leaving.”

  “Nonsense,” he interjected. “I know a dismissal when I hear one. Let the woman stay. I am curious to see what kind of company you keep.”

  Her stomach knotted, knowing this wasn’t good. Wringing her hands, she lifted her imploring gaze to Sebastian. The angered flush had eased, but his expression remained stern and as unyielding as stone.

  “I asked Taylor to put together a meal for six, not seven,” he stated flatly.

  “I am going to give the girl the benefit of the doubt and assume she has enough common sense to plan an appropriate meal. Consider the matter closed and somebody grab me a damn scotch already.”

  The imposing boom of his voice brooked for no argument. Still, she found herself looking to Sebastian for direction. He indicated toward the cupboard with a sharp jerk of his head. Ignoring the desperate apologies in her eyes, he strode out of the kitchen. The hushed rasp of his voice and the soft murmur of Monique’s drifted from the other room.

  Sighing, Taylor poured the drinks. She glanced over as someone started to set them on the carrying tray. Empathy and embarrassment shone in the smoky grey eyes peering down at her.

  “Hi. I’m Jackson,” the young man said, holding out his hand.

  She stared at it for a second, unsure of what to do. Deciding it was better not to be rude, she gave his hand a brief shake. “Taylor.”

  “I gathered,” he said with a wink. “Sorry. Apparently being the low man on the totem pole means no one bothers with introductions.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not even sure I warrant them.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Hey! Newbie! Stop putting the moves on Baas’ woman.”

  Taylor glanced up as Josh shouldered the younger man out of the way and administered a hard shove.

  His warm caramel skin paled. “I—I wasn’t, sir. I was just introducing myself.”

 
“Yeah, well knock it off before you get yourself hurt,” Josh snapped. “Go sit your ass down. Better yet, go occupy the succubus in the other room before she puts the moves on Marx. That woman’s had more balls in her mouth than a Hungry, Hungry Hippo. The last thing we need is her trying to slurp his set down.”

  She blanched as Jackson fled and Josh turned his steady blue gaze on her.

  “This is not good, Tay.”

  “I know. She was supposed to be out of here, but you guys showed up early.”

  “Sebastian hates that woman. The only reason he puts up with her is because she’s your friend and even then, her shit doesn’t fly. Don’t give Baas a reason to go off tonight. I’m letting you know right now, Marx has been riding his ass all week and his finger is already on that trigger. You get my drift?”

  Forcing a hard swallow, she nodded. “Yes, Josh. I get it.”

  He gave her back a rough thwack. “Good. Chin up, kid. You’ll be okay.”

  She rounded into the dining room just in time to see Irene saddle up to Jackson. He offered an uncertain smile, his expression baffled while the coppertop pressed against his side to straighten the tarnished silver skull and crossbones pin on his collar.

  “There you go, sugar butt,” she said, slapping his rear with an affectionate pat. “All better.”

  Marx whipped around at the comment. The young recruit’s eyes flared, his cheeks flushing a bright crimson as he lifted his hands in supplication. Josh masked a laugh by coughing into his fist. Taking his seat at the head of the table, Sebastian stared with marked disapproval—his piercing gaze tracking the woman’s every move.

  Oblivious to the scene she’d caused, Irene hurried over to take the tray from Taylor’s hands.

  “Take a load off and enjoy your man, baby girl. I got this. After all serving people is what I do best,” she proclaimed with a saucy wink.

  “Oh, no I…” Taylor started, but it was too late.

  The shapely redhead had already snagged the tray and sashayed to the foot of the table where Marx was taking a seat. Donning a bright smile, Irene leaned over his shoulder to place his drink beside him, her ample breasts almost spilling out in front of his face. Mortified, Taylor stood transfixed. One deep breath from the waitress and the SKALS director would lose his chin in a pale valley of cleavage. Silence hung over the room, and for one terrifying moment, she was certain she was going to get sick. The panic eased a little when Marx lifted a heavy brow and his lips twitched into an appreciative quirk. Not missing this, Irene gave one of his burly shoulders a squeeze before making her way over to Josh and Monique.

  It was like watching a train wreck. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. One of Irene’s hands settled across Josh’s nape as she leaned between the couple to set their drinks down. He shrugged away, his face condensing on a scowl.

  “Sit down, Taylor.”

  Sebastian’s husky voice helped break the spell. Hurrying around the table, she took her usual seat. She didn’t dare meet his eyes. She could feel their weight settling over her as surely as his hand, leaving her little doubt she would feel it, if not the bite of a leather strap later. The thought made her shift in her seat and forced unwanted tears to her eyes.

  “Stop it,” he warned beneath his breath, his voice taut and iced with the cold edge of authority.

  Nodding, Taylor lowered her head and wrung her hands, forcing herself to comply.

  “Geez, maybe you should drag someone away for another quickie,” Irene teased, jabbing an inquiring thumb Sebastian’s way. “Lover boy seems a little tense and on edge today.”

  Kicking her under the table, Taylor shot her friend a look of raw pleading, her cheeks burning with shame. Marx leaned back in his seat, his broad chest straining as he folded his arms. The diligence in his ebony eyes assured he had missed nothing. Edging slightly closer to Sebastian, Taylor quelled a nervous tremor. She was thankful when everyone started passing the serving platters and dug into their meal.

  “Okay, the food is fabulous but the conversation really sucks,” Irene stated around a mouthful of salad. “Someone say something. How was work today, Sebastian?”

  “It was fine,” he said without glancing up from his plate.

  “Catch any bad guys?”

  “Not today.”

  She turned her attention across the table and mimed a stage whisper. “No wonder he buys you fancy cars and diamond rings.”

  Taylor winced as Sebastian set his knife down and leaned back in his seat. His eyes narrowed into questioning slits.

  “What is it you are trying to say, Irene?”

  She shrugged, dismissing him with a flamboyant wave of her hand. “Nothing, really. Just that someone is being a bit of a sourpuss tonight. I mean, hell, you didn’t even give her a kiss hello after she busted her hump in the kitchen all day.”

  Sebastian’s lips curled with a cruel smile. “You may find our relationship lacking, but you are sorely mistaken if you think it is my wallet making her stay.”

  Taylor’s heart sank as his glare continued to burn into the woman. Closing her eyes, she prayed Irene had the sense to apologize or zip her lips.

  The redhead gave a nervous laugh. “I was just trying to lighten things up a bit. The mood is so damn tense around here you could crack a walnut. Don’t get yourself all worked up. I’m sure Tay is much more interested in what’s down the front of your pants. Your wallet’s not the only thing that’s bulging round here, stud.”

  Monique sputtered and Taylor slumped lower in her seat, wishing she could disappear when Marx’s disapproving glower swung her way. Josh choking on the bite he’d taken certainly didn’t help matters any. He muttered a quiet thanks as his lover patted his back, her face lining with concern.

  Sebastian took a long sip of wine. His hooded stare with blistering. Setting his glass down, he gave a slow shake of his head. “You truly are a piece of work, Irene.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

  His smile was forced and cold. “That was far from a compliment. Eat.”

  “Yes, sir,” she shot off with a playful salute.

  Bordering on hyperventilation, Taylor tried to focus on her plate. Her stomach churned as she pushed a piece of chicken around with dispassionate interest. Like fire, fear seemed to suck the oxygen from the room and she battled with the urge to fling the front doors open. Maybe she could push Irene through them before things got any worse. Feeling the full weight of Sebastian’s discontent, she slumped even lower.

  “So what is it that you do, big boy?” Irene asked, aiming her attention Marx’s way.

  He frowned at her choice of words and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I oversee company operations.”

  “Sounds sexy,” she said. “Exciting…you must be a very powerful man.”

  “I am well on my way.”

  “That’s awesome. What is it they say? Under every successful man lies a strong woman?” she teased with a lecherous waggle of her brows.

  Taylor couldn’t smother her mortified gasp. “Irene, please!”

  “What, honey? He’s a good-looking man and I don’t see a ring. You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  Marx’s fathomless laughter rolled through the room. “I assure you, it would take a much stronger woman than you to lie under me.”

  “I don’t know about that, honey. I’m a mighty quick learner.”

  All humor fled his broad features. “How generous of you to enlighten me. I advise focusing some of that energy on learning proper dinner etiquette. It’s as good of a place as any to start. Someone pass the bottle. My drink is empty.”

  Jackson immediately snared the scotch from the middle of the table and handed it Marx’s way. He looked relieved to have found some form of distraction, no matter how fleeting. Taylor couldn’t blame him. A chilling silence gripped the room and she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and cry. It wasn’t as volatile as what had happened on Christmas Eve but, somehow, it fel
t infinitely worse.

  Her head snapped up as Josh’s leg hit the table, jarring it hard enough to rattle plates and silverware alike. His dark blue eyes blazed as he shot a disbelieving look Irene’s way. Wordlessly, he cleared his throat and edged closer to the blonde on his other side. Worry lined Monique’s delicate brow as she searched his face in confusion. Josh merely shook his head in response.

  “My apologies,” he muttered. “Leg cramp. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t,” Marx advised. “Potassium, Reevers. Take some. Your team needs you functioning at full capacity.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What are you working on?” Irene asked.

  “Nothing we can discuss, Ma’am,” Jackson said, flashing a disarming smile. “Every mission is top secret.”

  She returned his grin. “Right. I forgot. So tell me, what’s it like working under Sebastian? He’s your boss, right?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” A collective ease fell over the room, the topic somehow seeming much safer. “Agent Baas is extremely intelligent and intense. I find it both an honor and a privilege to serve under him.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Irene purred, looking Sebastian’s way. Her eyes trailed over him in an appreciative sweep. “I’m sure you do.”

  Sebastian jerked back, his jaw knotting. Without warning, his hand flew, striking with the lethal speed of a cobra. Taylor’s eyes flared as a vicious backhand knocked the redhead out of her chair and sent her sprawling. The sharp crack echoed like a gunshot through the room. Ice crawled through her veins while her terrified brain tried to process what had just happened.

  A low howl rose from the floor and ripped through her heart. Shaking, Taylor started to stand to help, but Sebastian caught her wrist, his fingers biting deep.

  “Sit. Down.” His voice came in a low, menacing growl.