by Michele Hauf
“If that’s where my next assignment takes me.” But again, not ever.
Jack clicked off and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. It was hard to shake the weird feeling he’d gotten when Kierce had asked him the personal question. Data, intel, and details of a job were the only things required on his mission reports. Not if he was getting along with the people. And while he knew the psychological aspects of relationships between the players were key, he’d gotten by with fists and fury just fine, thank you.
He grabbed a package of Saskia’s favorite cinnamon buns, and then another to be safe, and after paying, headed back across the street.
The shower was running as he tugged off his coat and he winced to know that if he wanted to shower, which he did, he’d be shivering under the cold water. Should he pull a Saskia and jump in with her? It wasn’t as though she’d mind.
Rubbing his palms together, he instead answered the insistent boiling pot on the stove. Yet glanced toward the bathroom. The pasta was ready, but it could go a few more minutes. By the time he decided he should go for it, the shower stopped and he heard the shing of the metal rings sweep across the curtain bar.
“Just as well,” he muttered.
Unable to ignore the pastries sitting beside the sink, he ripped open the package, stuck a cinnamon bun in his mouth, and then tilted the cook pot over the sink to drain the pasta.
Saskia wandered out with a towel wrapped around her body and her wet hair exposed to the chill apartment air. “You got the pastries. Great! But those are for breakfast.”
Jack pulled the half pastry out of his mouth and set it aside on the counter. He then shook the pasta in the pan and swirled in some olive oil and parmesan cheese. “I didn’t get the memo.”
“You’re a guy. Guys don’t read memos.”
He frowned at her obvious anger over him having eaten one pastry out of the full dozen he’d purchased. Then he immediately knew it wasn’t the pastry. With women, it was never what they were nagging about, but something underneath and very difficult to dredge up that was the real problem. And a man had best be wary.
“Sorry,” he offered. “I’ll forgo my morning pastry in penance.”
A heavy sigh from Saskia warned that the apology wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. Could he get a cheat sheet on this woman? Anything to save him from an argument. She wandered into her bedroom.
While he mixed garlic with olive oil in a small pan over the stove, he wondered what her problem was. Must be worried about the poison thing. As he would be if he were in her shoes. If she was all about not killing, why had she agreed to provide Clive the poison in the first place?
There were things about her that confused him. And not in a normal “because she’s a woman” way that confused all men. Was she hiding something from him? He’d never asked her how she’d known to invite him to the crew. Or at least, Clive believed he was here by her suggestion. Which he was not. Hmm…
She emerged from the bedroom wearing an oversized sweater, which reduced her figure to a blob. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed. Tumbled and so bloody sexy.
Jack hissed when he put his hand too close to the burner, and flinched away.
Saskia hid a smile and settled onto the sofa. “Watch yourself. You know those stove things are for big boys?”
“Are you hungry for some pasta, or what?”
“Always. Bring me a plate.”
So she wanted to be waited on, eh?
Jack stirred the garlic and slowly added in some heavy cream and salt. If he had pine nuts that would make the dish perfect, but he’d forgo them for a simple meal. Then he decided the smoked fish might be a good side, so he put a couple pieces of that on each plate, rolled on some pasta, then topped it with the creamy white sauce.
The burner phone in his pocket buzzed, and he pulled it out and checked the text with his back to Saskia. Monday. Midnight. Location info to follow.
Jonny’s fate was fast coming to the fore. Jack had forty-eight hours to save him. He hated being rushed. His little brother had better appreciate all that he was sacrificing for him.
* * * *
Saskia was feeling off, and it was because of the poison issue. She’d snapped at Jack earlier, and now she felt jittery. Like a drug addict coming down from a high and seeking her next fix. Or it could have been the espresso she’d slugged down before driving to the garage to look in and see if Clive or Niles needed anything.
She’d gotten Jack to do what she’d needed. She should be feeling great about this job. Instead, she couldn’t get out of her brain that condemning look Jack had given her when he’d suggested the client had died from the poison.
She hadn’t been responsible for his death. She’d been fighting to protect herself.
With a nod, and an inhale to summon calm, she peeked into the garage office. Clive nodded she enter. Tugging her coat closed and zipping it up to the neck, she wandered in.
“Where’s Jack?”
“After a white van.”
“Good boy. He’s a bit of all right, yeah?”
“Sure.”
Clive leaned back in his chair, now giving her more attention than was normal for him. Eye contact, even. Saskia tried not to look away. It would only make her appear nervous.
“Did you get what I asked for?” he asked.
“I’ll have it. Tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Watch the testy tone, Sass. I don’t like a woman who thinks she knows more than she does.”
Before she could caution her affront, Saskia said, “Maybe it’s you who is testy?”
Clive shook his head. “Maybe you and your lover had an argument. Don’t fuck him up, Sass. We need him at his best tomorrow night.”
“Don’t—” She fisted her hands at her sides. “Why is it always the women who fuck things up? You men can be perfect assholes, you know that? You expect us to do everything for you and then when one thing isn’t perfect, it’s our fault. Not your overblown expectations.”
“You’ve become too bold. I prefer the quiet Sass who did what she was told. Like on the previous job.”
“And I prefer the quiet Clive.”
He stood abruptly. And Saskia couldn’t stop herself from flinching. She’d overstepped. Damn, why had she reacted like that?
Was this job really going to bring her down so easily?
“Whatever your problem is, Sass, solve it. Before tomorrow night. Can I rely on you?”
“Of course you can.”
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
She nodded and quickly exited. Niles wasn’t in the garage so she returned to the car. Once behind the wheel she beat the dashboard with a fist and growled.
Chapter 12
Tomorrow was the day, and it couldn’t come soon enough for Jack. Jonny needed him. Family came first, but he was not a man to walk out on a half-finished job.
“You got that extra blanket in your room?” Saskia asked as she wandered toward her bedroom.
“Yes.”
“I want it. It’s freezing in my room.”
“But then I’ll have but the sheet.”
“My room faces the north side. You can wear your coat.”
Now she was just being obstinate. Jack marched into his room, grabbed the blanket, then headed to her room. The door was open, and he assumed she was dressing to sleep, and that he could catch her naked.…
Saskia pulled an oversized T-shirt down to her thighs. She met his gaze, and a tiny smirk gave him some hope she wasn’t going to send him to bed with an angry command.
He tossed her the blanket, then leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “You know, we could share body heat. Then neither one of us would need the blanket.”
Th
e woman tossed the blanket to the bed and strolled around the end of the bed. She aimed for him, and he knew what was coming. In one smooth motion she jumped up to hook her legs about his waist and anchored herself to his body.
“You take subtle hints well,” she said.
She kissed him roughly, eagerly. And he was all in. Knees hitting the edge of the bed, Jack spilled forward, not breaking the kiss as Saskia landed on her back. But she quickly took charge by rolling over the top of him and stretching her hands up to push his arms above his head. Fingers clasping into his, she winked at him.
“Is this the kinky portion of the evening?” he asked.
“You told me no whips and chains.”
He lunged up to catch her pout with a hard kiss. She bit his lower lip. And none too gently!
“Saskia, please, I don’t want to end up with bruises. But I also don’t want to stop you from doing whatever it is you want to do with me. I kind of like being on the bottom.”
“I promise no weird stuff. I just like to take control.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open. Her skin held a touch of the ever-present chill, so when she spread her palms across his pecs, Jack sucked in a breath. It was the hard pinch to his nipple that stirred up his yelp. In reaction, he smacked a palm across her arse.
A defiant glint flickered in her gaze as she drew her tongue along her lower lip and slid her hand down his abs. He still wore his trousers and his erection strained against the fabric. When she squeezed his cock, hard, Jack bucked his hips to encourage her.
“Time to ride my big Irish bull.” She bent and lashed his nipple quickly with her tongue. Working down the zipper, she was careful. And when he sprang free, it was to the hot, wet touch of her tongue.
Jack slammed his hands out to the sides of the bed and closed his eyes. This kind of torture he could endure. He’d never give up the information. No matter how long, or how deep, she took him. Not that he had any information to divulge, but it’s where his brain went.
On the other hand, if he ever wound up in a situation that found him tied up and his dick exposed, she could wheedle out anything she wanted to learn from him by doing exactly what she was doing right now. The focus and intensity of her tongue did not relent as it traced the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. His gut tightened, as did his muscles all over. He could feel release building, and when she clutched his bollocks and fit her mouth completely over the head of him, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
She took it all. And as his hips pumped and his body shuddered, he swore a sweet oath to all that was right in this world. It had found him. For a few brief days.
Now, how to extend those days into much longer?
* * * *
Saskia rolled over to face Jack, who winked at her. She pulled the blanket up to cover their shoulders, slid her legs between his, and snuggled her body as close as possible to his. The shared body heat was ridiculous. And much needed. Remind her never again to agree to a job in Helsinki in January.
Unless of course, Gentleman Jack was along for the ride. And the sex.
His gray eyes were clear and calm as he matched her stare. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“I’m thinking it would be nice if you’d come along with me after this heist.”
Her heartbeats quickened, and not in a good way. “Come along with you? Where are you going?” She did want to know. And yet, she did not.
He shrugged. “Places.”
“That’s not enough incentive to get a girl to follow in your footsteps. Even if you are a good fuck.”
He chuckled. “Not sure where, exactly, my path will lead me, but I know I’m leaving things behind.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m, uh…going off the grid.”
Yeah, she knew that. Unfortunately. But she was surprised he’d confessed as much to her. He really must trust her. Good going, Saskia. And…not. “You’re no longer going to pull off heists or beat people bloody?”
“Heists? Maybe. It’s in my blood. You know?”
She did know that. The idea of never again pulling a heist? Impossible.
“I don’t like the violence,” Jack explained. “It’s not me. Not anymore. A bloke can change.”
“So can a girl. But living off the grid is not easy, Jack. There’s a reason they call it living the hard way. You need a plan.”
“I’ll have one soon enough.”
“Soon enough is not a plan. Such a move requires a lot of thought and preparation. Do you have someone to relocate you?”
He shrugged, unwilling to offer too much information.
“And you think I would leap blindly into that adventure with you?” she asked. “Maybe I like what I do? Don’t you think I have talent?”
“You are beyond talented. In the ways of disguise and sucking a bloke’s cock.”
“I think you definitely prefer one over the other.”
“Let’s just say, I’m not ever going to refuse your need to be on top.”
Nor would she turn away an opportunity to have sex with this man. Their between-the-sheets adventures were fun, and hot, and satisfying. But what if the man were in her life all the time? And she could jump him whenever the mood struck. She’d never been a girl to have a long-term boyfriend. Not because the idea of it didn’t appeal. She’d just never met a guy with whom she wanted to spend more than a few days or weeks.
Never trusted a man enough, if truth be told. Because those she trusted always left her.
Could she go on the lam with Jack?
“Just for a little while?” he queried.
“Live the hard life? No more heists? It’s in our blood, Jack.”
“I know, but…” He exhaled and looked toward the ceiling. “I can’t tell you everything. I intend to go dark. I don’t have a choice.” He tilted his gaze toward her. The rough-tough thug had quieted, and the pleading in his eyes captured her need for connection in ways she couldn’t comprehend. “Come along with me, Saskia. See if we like spending time with one another.”
“Maybe.”
“After tomorrow night, I want to take a few days to get out and away. Then I’ll call for you. What do you say about that? You can walk away anytime you want.”
“What if I walk away and tell someone where to find you?”
“That’s a choice you need to make. I trust you won’t. And if you do?”
“Gentleman Jack will come looking for me and apologize first?”
He clasped her hand and kissed the knuckles. He would come after her if she thought to betray him. As was just.
Saskia rolled to her back and glanced out the window. The faintest green glow from the Northern Lights danced high in the corner of the window.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Because she did have to give such an offer some consideration. She never thought she’d fall for the tough guy with more issues than she had, but it had happened, despite his quick temper and need to always protect her. Or was it because of those reasons? It couldn’t be because of the sex. Sex was a big part of her liking him, but she knew the bloom of lust was always quick to subside, and then the couple had to deal with being around one another and sharing and emotions.
“Tell me something,” he said in the quiet of the early morning. “Do you know who you are? I mean, beyond all the disguises and the charades. Who is Saskia Petrovik?”
That was a stupid question. She knew who she was. Maybe. It was easy to slip into a role. She’d been doing it all her life. Could she bare herself for him? Tell him that she desperately wanted family. That she knew her parents were out in the world somewhere. Living their own lives. Unconcerned that they’d left their twelve-year-old daughter in her grandmother’s care over seventeen years earlier? Had they ever
contacted Grandma Petrovik to ask about her?
Didn’t matter anymore. At least, it shouldn’t. She had shoved away the longing to see her parents again. They’d taught her skills. And she had survived.
But every time Jack said family came first, it stabbed her in the heart.
“I’m Saskia Petrovik,” she said firmly. “And I’m tired. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Dream about where we’ll go after we leave this frozen tundra, will you?”
“Any place that’s warm.”
“That’s my girl.”
Actually, she was no man’s girl. And he’d have to learn that sooner, rather than later.
Dispelling a sigh, Saskia closed her eyes and ran through the ways she would reveal her truth to him without sending him fleeing. Because she needed him to know her. All of her. Only then would he know just how impossible it would be for her to accept his invitation.
* * * *
The crew was meeting at three in the afternoon to gather their equipment and go over the plans for the job. It was ten a.m., and Jack had finished his third cinnamon bun, along with half the juice. What he needed was a juicy medium-rare steak to carry him through this day, but there was only rice and pasta in the cupboard. He’d whip up some macaroni and cheese for lunch.
Saskia had left to retrieve coffee. The Kaffecentralen down the block brewed a fist-in-the-gut blend. She’d promised to bring him back two.
Meanwhile, his phone rang. It was Kierce Quinn at the Paris ECU headquarters. A place that he’d never be able to point to on a map, but he knew it was somewhere in the sixteenth arrondissement.
“Speak,” Jack said as he corralled the pastry crumbs on his plate.
“Your suspicions panned out. An Italian dignitary with ties to ISIL died from poison four days ago. He had a safe deposit box in the Belgian bank that your crew hit two weeks earlier.”
“Is that so?” Jack straightened. This was remarkable information. “So our theory is correct? Clive intends to strike again. Leave poison in someone’s safe deposit box. Have you run a list of names for the bank here in Helsinki?”
