by Lucy Score
“Okay,” Kate nodded.
“It’s going to work,” Waverly reassured her. “Now how about some of those well-done eggs?”
They congregated in the kitchen, everyone too nervous to sleep. Xavier surveyed his small army. Micah, his right hand, the man who always had his back even knowing it could cost him the company they’d both worked so hard for. Kate, the steadfast and loyal friend who wanted to help in any way possible. Petra, the heiress with the big eyes and a sweet heart. Her father, Grigory, a man who had done the right thing and was now facing the danger of paying the price for saying no to those without souls. Anatoli, the loyal guard charged with protecting Grigory’s prize. He’d extended that protection, that loyalty, to include the rest of them.
Then there was Chelsea, his sister still in her pajamas looking as if she hadn’t slept, her fingers furiously working the keyboard of her laptop. Chelsea was the only one who wouldn’t be directly involved in the operation today. But her job was as important if not more so than Xavier’s. She was hunting. Brad’s partner was out there, and even if Brad was behind bars by the end of the day, his partner still posed a threat.
Dante ambled in, already dressed and looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But Xavier could see a sharpness, an edge in the man’s eyes. His devil may care attitude aside, Dante knew what was at stake today. And, as with Kate, his timing had to be perfect.
Malachi Travers wasn’t in the room, crowded around the breakfast table and island with the rest of them. But Xavier still counted him as a member of the team. With the FBI looking hard at Waverly, having Malachi on the inside would prove valuable… as long as they could count on him. Xavier still wasn’t sure if they had his loyalty if it came down to choosing between saving Waverly or saving his job.
They had one shot at turning this around today. One chance at making the feds change their minds about the target of their investigation.
And that rode squarely on Waverly’s shoulders. He watched her as she sipped her coffee and bantered with Micah and Petra over something that had them all laughing. She was smart and capable, handled a weapon like a pro, and thought on her feet better than nearly anyone he knew. Yet she was the team member he was worried about the most.
She could handle herself, Xavier told himself. If they stuck with the plan, if everyone did their job, she would be fine. But if things fell apart, there was no telling what the outcome would be or if they would all come home alive tonight.
And it was eating at him. He trusted her. Knew she would do whatever it took to make the mission a success. It was the sign of a good operative. But it was also what terrified him to his bones. If something happened and the plan went to hell, Waverly would be facing Brad alone. And Xavier would have failed her again.
The thought of that possibility was killing him.
His phone signaled an incoming call, and he answered it tersely.
“Saint.”
“Good morning to you, too,” his mother chirped in his ear.
“What’s wrong?” Xavier demanded.
“Nothing’s wrong! Can’t a mother call her son?”
“Mom, it’s six in the morning,” he said, cursing himself for not checking his caller id. Chelsea looked up from the table and mimed laughing at him. Xavier threw a napkin at her.
“You’ve been avoiding all my normal hours calls,” Carol Saint reminded him.
It was true. He’d been avoiding his mother. He knew she’d be curious about Waverly and what their time together meant. And he hadn’t been prepared to answer questions. He’d resorted to calling his parents when he knew they were at their monthly book club and leaving a voicemail so they wouldn’t realize he was avoiding them.
It obviously hadn’t worked.
Xavier sighed. “I’ve been busy,” he said, pushing away from the breakfast table. Chelsea, in her infinite maturity, hissed “neener neener neener,” at him as he headed into the great room.
“I gathered that from the news and the Max Heim show,” she said dryly.
“You saw that, did you?”
“No thanks to you. Your sister told us to tune in.”
The Katy Perry ringtone on Waverly’s phone suddenly made more sense to Xavier.
“I’ve been spending time with Waverly,” he said, making the unnecessary confession.
“No shit,” Carol said succinctly. “Is it personal or professional?”
“Both,” Xavier admitted. “I can hear you happy dancing,” he said dryly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his mother responded, proving his point by being slightly out of breath. “When are you bringing her home again?”
“As soon as humanly possible, and don’t use that as an excuse to renovate the entire house,” he warned.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you. I was looking up the contractor’s number.”
“Mom!”
Chelsea put her thumbs in her ears and wiggled her fingers at him from the kitchen. Xavier flipped her the bird.
“I’m just kidding. Relax!” Her voice softened. “I’m really happy for you, Xavier.”
His mother had guessed all those years ago how deep his feelings for Waverly ran. And she, and the rest of the Saints, had been there to help him pick up the pieces when it had all gone to hell.
He sighed. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t want to jinx anything. There’s still a chance she could come to her senses.”
His mother laughed. “Then you just do your best to make sure she doesn’t have enough time or space to change her mind.”
“Good advice, Mom.”
“That’s how your father wooed me.”
Xavier smiled despite himself. His parents’ relationship, that committed team effort, was what he wanted in life. They challenged each other, supported each other, enjoyed each other. And he could have that with Waverly.
If he could keep her safe today.
“I’ll have to take a page out of Dad’s book,” Xavier promised.
“I’d put him on for you, but I have a bit more motherly interrogation to do.”
“What now?”
“Have you heard from your sister? Chelsea hasn’t been answering my calls either, and I’m worried.”
“Chelsea?” Xavier grinned at his sister, who went from flipping him off to shaking her head so violently he thought it might snap off her neck. “She didn’t tell you?” he asked, taking great joy in selling out his sister.
“Tell me what?” Carol demanded.
“She’s here. She’s helping me with a project. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.”
“She’s what?” His mother was almost shouting.
“Here. You can talk to her,” Xavier held his phone at arm’s length to Chelsea. “Mom wants to talk to you, Chels,” he said loud enough that their mother could hear him.
Chelsea stomped on his foot for good measure before taking the phone from him.
“Hey, Mom.”
Xavier smirked as Chelsea left the great room dodging their mother’s questions.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Waverly said, entering the room with her arms crossed.
“But necessary. My mother wants to know when you’re coming to visit.”
“What did you tell her?” Waverly asked, slipping her arms around his waist and looking up at him.
“Only enough for her to start hoping for grandchildren in the next six months,” Xavier teased, running his hands down her back.
“Are you ready for this?” Waverly asked.
“What? Kids? I think we’ll catch on eventually.”
“Xavier! I meant today. Are you ready for today?”
He looked past her at their breakfast eating compatriots. He’d prefer to go into this knowing that the feds were in their pocket, knowing that his team held all the cards. But it wasn’t to be. “Maybe we could postpone this? Come at it from a different angle,” he suggested. The sudden desperation for a P
lan B ate at him.
“Xavier,” Waverly sighed out his name. “It’s going to be fine. We’ve got this. I believe in you, and I need you to believe in me.”
He shook his head. “We’re rushing this. There has to be another way.” There had to be. Maybe the timeline could be finessed enough to keep the FBI at bay until they found an in with the SEC? Maybe if Chelsea could find the partner, they could sway the FBI?
Waverly tugged out of his grasp and latched onto his arm. She dragged him out of the great room and into a very small, very purple powder room. The quarters were cramped with a long single sink vanity occupying most of one wall. But it would have to do for privacy.
“Talk to me, X,” she ordered, flicking the lock.
He moved restlessly in the confined space.
“I’m having a hard time with this,” he confessed, pacing the three steps to the sink and back again.
She got in his path and put her hands on his chest. “I know. Tell me what’s going on in that sexy brain of yours.”
He grasped her hands and kissed her fingers. “I hate using you as bait.”
Tension crackled off of him, filling the air around them.
She cupped his face in her palms. “I can do this. I need you to have faith in me.”
He nodded, but his eyes told a different story. There was anxiety there and something edgier. She’d been there before, the line between fear and panic. He slipped out of her grasp and roamed past her. Waverly slid up on the vanity to give him room. She let him pace it out for another minute before catching his arm and caging him in between her legs.
“X, I’ve been trained. I’ve done this before.”
“Something could go wrong. What if—”
She put a finger to his mouth and then replaced it with her lips. She pulled back when she felt his rigid length stiffen against her. “This is going to work, and it’s all going to be over soon,” she promised, stroking her hands through his thick hair.
“Promise me.”
“I promise you, X. This is important to me. I need you to trust me. I need you to believe in me.”
“I do, but…”
She silenced his protest. “My poor Xavier,” she sighed. “I know why this is so hard for you. You’re the protector, the fixer. It’s what you do. You stand between everyone you love and the danger they face. But I can face this myself, and I will with you backing me up. I need this, X. We need this. You can’t always stand for me. I need to stand for me.”
He kissed her hard, leaning into her, over her, as if he could change her mind with just his mouth. She felt it all from him: the fear, the determination, the pure power of him. Everything that he was, he poured into her. When he took the kiss deeper, Waverly let him and gave him everything she had in return. Separately, they were impressive. Together, they were unstoppable.
She broke the kiss and dropped her forehead to his chest. “I love you, Xavier.”
His fingers gripped her upper arms so hard she knew she’d have fingerprints on her skin. He squeezed his eyes closed tight. “Say it again,” he whispered, his voice rough as gravel.
She kissed him first, lightly, sweetly. “I love you, Xavier Saint. Even more now. And even more every damn day. You’re my protector, my partner, my heart.”
His breath came out on a ragged sigh, and his eyes flew open. He cupped her face. “We’re getting married.”
“You’re insane,” she laughed.
“Say it. Say you’ll marry me.”
“When this is all over, if you still want to, yes. I’ll marry you.” She felt tears prickle behind her eyes. But of all the tears she’d cried over him, these were joyful.
He took a half step back and shoved his hand in the pocket of his jeans.
“I imagined doing this in much different circumstances, but this feels right. This feels like us.”
“You’re not going to shoot me or something, are you?” Waverly asked.
“Maybe later, Angel.” His long fingers slid out of the pocket holding a diamond ring between them.
“Oh, my God.”
“We’re making this official, Waverly. You’re not backing out of this, and I’m not waiting any more. I bought this the day before I flew to Belize.” He slid it onto her finger and kissed it and then her. She was crying now, and he took his time kissing each tear on her cheeks.
“You are my heart and my center. Nothing means what it should without you. I want to build a life with you. I want to wake up holding you every damn day of my forever. I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Normal, kids, maybe a couple of sloppy dogs. I want to spend the rest of my life making love to you every chance I get because I will never have enough of you.”
She couldn’t answer him through the tears that clogged her throat.
He squeezed her again. “Angel, baby, I need you to say it. I need to hear the words.”
She nodded again, sucked in a breath. “I must be insane, but yes. Hell yes, I’ll marry you.”
Xavier crushed her to him. “It’s about damn time,” he said before his mouth met hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“You have the worst possible timing,” Waverly laughed breathlessly against him as she held up her hand to admire the ring.
The laugh died on her lips when Xavier hitched her legs higher over his hips and she felt how rigid his shaft was. The light in his warm brown eyes turned to fire as she rolled her hips to grind against him.
“Now who has bad timing,” he asked, nipping her lower lip. He stroked a rough palm up her thigh, his fingers slipping under the hem of the shorts she wore. She watched those brown eyes go molten when he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. He used the pads of his fingers to stroke over her delicate folds once then twice before gripping the waistband from the inside and tugging the shorts down.
He was gorgeous, she thought, lifting her hips so he could ease the shorts all the way off. That straight nose, high, patrician cheekbones, his solid jaw hidden under the days of scruff he’d stopped trying to tame. But his appeal went deeper than those beautifully carved features and those impossibly deep eyes. There was power that radiated from him. It was in the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he zeroed in on her and looked inside her.
That connection they’d had years ago, the one she sensed from their first handshake, had only deepened.
A handshake hadn’t been nearly enough then and Waverly felt a desperation for something much more rise up in her now. She reached for his jeans, freeing the button, but he caught her fingers when she touched his zipper.
He scooted her to the very edge of the vanity so she had to lean back. Xavier curled her fingers over the lip of the counter.
“I want you wearing nothing but my ring,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper. “I’m going to take you now, and every move you make today, you’re going to be thinking about me inside you until we’re back together.”
His busy hands changed their course, running back up her shins, her thighs, over her hips, and sliding under her sweater. She wanted to say yes, to promise him that she already thought of him perpetually, constantly. Xavier had once told her he was obsessed with her. He’d compared himself to Ganim, the man who had stalked her, hurt her, tried to destroy her.
But this? This heaven that she found in his arms? It was nothing like that darkness. This was beautiful, consuming, soul shaking. It had always been love between them, and now that the words had been spoken, promises made, it would grow even stronger.
He worked her sweater up, and she saw his breath catch when he bared her breasts. Only after he’d tugged it over her head and let it fall to the floor did he release his zipper. He was already rigidly hard, that thick column of flesh fought against the thin cotton of his briefs, straining toward her.
Waverly couldn’t wait any longer. She used her toes to dig into the waistband of the last barrier between them, shoving his black briefs and jeans down to free hi
s erection. He was beyond ready for her, she noted, wetting her lips as she studied the slickness at the head with fascination.
The ache that built at her core, simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, intensified.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Xavier breathed the words with reverence as he fisted the root of his cock. “And you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours,” she said, finally forming the words she needed him to hear. “Even when we were stupid and stubborn and scared.”
“I’m still all of those things when it comes to you,” he confessed, watching her as he lowered his mouth to sample the pink nipple that budded under his warm breath. A low moan of pleasure escaped her throat when his tongue lashed over the peak.
“Oh, Angel,” he sighed, stroking the bud again, this time with the flat of his tongue. “I need hours with you now, years.” His cock flexed with need. “A lifetime.”
“Right now we have minutes,” she breathed. “Make them count, X.”
He relinquished her breast and planted her feet on the counter just inside her hands.
Waverly’s head fell back against the mirror. She was splayed open for him. She should have felt vulnerable, but instead, she was awash in power. She was craved by Xavier Saint.
He notched the head of his penis at her entrance and groaned at the slickness he found there. “I love how wet you get for me.”
Waverly moaned as he used his hand to slide that flared head over her, parting her flesh until it nudged the spot that ached with desire. Her sigh sounded more like a sob to her.
“Hold on tight,” he warned, guiding his cock back to her entrance.
“Hurry. Hurry. Please,” she begged.
And then he was working his way into her, one thick inch at a time. “Relax, Angel,” he said bringing his forehead to hers. “Relax.”
Waverly breathed into the fullness that was edged with silver slivers of delicious pain. She felt those tiny muscles slowly loosen their grip on Xavier’s shaft just enough.
“Ah, yes,” he hissed out as he finally slid home. He hitched her legs around his waist. “Hang on, baby.”
