Blake was nodding. “This is good. This might finally be the lead we’re looking for.”
“Declan invited Connor to Vegas this weekend.” I didn’t want to tell him more, but I knew he’d find out. “There’s a problem.”
“What?” He crossed his arms, and his biceps popped up like a tent.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, afraid to tell him about Connor. I didn’t know what it would mean for the investigation. “Connor and I have a history.”
His shock was immediate as he pressed his hands to the sides of his face, dragging them down as he contemplated a response. “Did he mention to Declan he knew you?”
It was obvious we knew each other . . . “Declan thinks Connor screwed me over. I told Connor that I’d lied on my resume to get the job, and not to say anything about me.”
“And did Connor screw you over?” He cocked his head, and his expression hardened.
Yes. Cut out my heart and sliced it with a machete. “No. Well—just don’t worry about it.”
He blew out a breath. “You trust this Connor guy to keep his lips sealed?”
Despite our history, I said, “Yes.” But I honestly had no idea.
“I want you to get close to Connor.” His eyes lit up like there was a bulb behind them, like he could actually see a bright light before him.
“No. Absolutely not. I just—couldn’t . . .” I turned away from Blake and walked to the window.
“This could be our lucky break.” His fingers splayed against my back and regret poured through me. He whispered in my ear, “When this is over . . .”
Chills licked my spine and moved throughout my body as I spun to face him. “No, Blake.” I pressed my hand to his chest. “You and I—that can’t happen again. We tried it before, and it just didn’t work. Besides, you’re my boss now.”
“We can make it work.” The darkening of his blue eyes was familiar to me—I knew what he was thinking, wanting. Well, that wouldn’t be happening again.
I shook my head. I was in no mood to deal with hurting his ego. And knowing Blake, rejection was more painful than the actual loss of being with me. “What did you have in mind with Connor?” I changed the subject.
He turned away from me. “How well do you know him?”
I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. I didn’t know how much to divulge. “We dated in college. Things just sort of ended.” With him running away . . .
Insert metaphorical stab wound.
Choke on the pain for a moment.
Breathe.
Move on.
“Do you think you can get him to trust you? Open up to you?”
Connor Matthews—open up to me? It seemed unlikely, especially since I got the distinct feeling that he had toughened up in the last decade. I knew he’d gone into the Marines and even heard he’d been a badass sniper. Now, he was a lone wolf. A bodyguard. He was nothing like his rich father. And I remembered he never wanted to be like the old man.
I was doing it again. Letting Connor hurt me. I couldn’t walk down memory lane every time Connor’s name was mentioned. There was too much hanging on the line to let Connor trip me up.
“Olivia?”
Blake’s deep voice arrested my attention. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead with pained irritation.
He reached for my wrist and tugged my hand free from my face. “You have to do this. You’ve been in deep for nine months—you can’t back out now.”
He was right. This was only my third undercover assignment after completing training at Quantico. And the only reason I was given such a high profile assignment was because I’d forced Blake’s hand, that and he still had a thing for me.
“I’ll see if I can get Connor to open up to me, but he may be innocent. His father, on the other hand, was a world class jerk.”
“Find out, because we’re running out of time. If we don’t produce some results soon, we might have to stop the investigation.”
I swallowed. No. God, no. I was finally where I needed to be. We were too close.
“Do what it takes. Get me evidence.”
As if he needed to encourage me . . .
“We’ll need to push the envelope a little more. We came up empty while you were at the office, but now that you’re at the club, there are few things we can try to get the evidence we need.”
Knowing Blake, those “things” would probably be dangerous. “I’ve been working for Declan since late September. I spent almost eight long months working in his office, biding my time, gaining his trust. The office job was our way in, and the fact that I’m now at the club means it paid off. You have to give it some time.” But would Declan ever really let me in? If he didn’t, Connor might be my only way. But would Connor make a deal with him?
I needed Connor to.
And yet, I hoped to hell he didn’t . . .
Chapter Seven
Connor
Lauren leaned back in her black leather desk chair and brought her thumb to her lip, pulling her bottom lip down just slightly. Was she done talking?
“Thank you for explaining the Saudi deal to me.” I started to get up.
Lauren had her hand in the air, gesturing for me to wait. “This deal is just the start. Our competitors are raking in sales in the tens of billions. This deal only got us on the map.”
I sat back down in my seat and started for the tie at my neck, but realized it wasn’t even there. I’d already tossed it. “Where are you from originally?” The question slipped from my lips before I realized I’d asked it.
She arched her shoulders back. “I’m American.”
“You have an accent, don’t you? I feel like I keep hearing it, and I was just curious.” I don’t know why I was asking this, but I was hoping to distract her from her big ideas.
“I’d prefer not to talk about it.”
What? Well, that wasn’t the response I was expecting, but I’d drop it.
“Connor, please think about—”
I held my hand out in front of me. “Lauren, I don’t want to make any major decisions. I don’t think the company should take on too much until Mason’s here.”
Her eyes widened a fraction. “I don’t advise slowing down.” She was now the one standing. Her hot pink heels flashed as she walked to my side.
“I’m not cut out for this.” I was itching to get to the gun range in Vegas on Friday. An old Marine buddy of mine lived in Vegas, and my first order of business upon arrival was to meet up with him and shoot something. I’m not violent. Not crazy—well, not certifiable, at least. But I was tense. Wired.
Yes, firing a few rounds would make a world of difference.
“Connor,” she folded her arms across her chest, her dark eyes steadying on mine, “I’m not sure you realize that our company is on the brink of something revolutionary.”
What in the hell was she talking about? I stood up. I didn’t appreciate a lecture from Mrs. Sales on my father’s company. Shit, it was my company. No . . . Mason’s. It would never really be mine.
I pushed my hands into the pockets of my gray slacks, clearing my throat. “What’s up, Lauren?” I narrowed my eyes at her, my jaw tight. For some reason, I got the feeling there was a hell of a lot more going on.
“Have you talked to Wes yet?”
Wes. Who was he again? “R&D guy?”
“Yeah, the head of the department of research and development.” Her hands fell to her sides, and she took a small step closer to me, wedged between us was the chair in which I’d previously sat.
This woman was a praying mantis. The way her sharp eyes bore through me, how she held her ground as if she owned the damn company. Normally a strong woman would turn me on like Olivia once had, but today, I wasn’t in the mood.
“I’ll meet him. Promise.” I inhaled a breath and tilted my head. “Anything else?” I allowed a bite to my voice, wanting her to know the irritation had begun to spread through my limbs like a disease.
He
r hand was on my shoulder; her long pink nails a perfect match to her shoes. “I don’t want the company to lose momentum. Just think about it, okay?”
With my eyes still on her hand, I responded, “Fine.” I stepped back and started to leave.
“Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“See you in Vegas tomorrow.”
I nodded without turning to face her and escaped through the door, working out the tension in my neck as I strode past cubicles and fluorescent lights. Maybe it wasn’t Lauren I was mad at. Maybe I was still pissed at my father. I didn’t want to be here. He was probably laughing at me from heaven—or hell.
My secretary, Elsa, stopped me just outside my door. “Connor,” she said, smoothing a hand over her short, white bob, “there is a Miss Taylor in your office.”
“Taylor?” Shit. That was Olivia’s new last name. My stomach twisted like melted steel. I gripped the knob, surprised by the fact that the door was closed. “Thanks,” I muttered to Elsa and pushed my way in.
Olivia jumped back from whatever she’d been peering at on my desk and bumped into my chair. Her cheeks brightened, and she forced an awkward smile to her face, exposing her “kill-me-now” dimples.
Why couldn’t she have gotten ugly in the past ten years? She still had those high cheekbones in her heart-shaped face, the small, straight nose, the full lips I wanted to sink my teeth into . . .
I was still standing in the doorframe, just staring. As I moved into the room, she pushed her dark hair over her shoulder and stepped around the desk. “Looks like it might storm,” she remarked, placing an envelope on my desk.
I sucked in a breath as she picked up the red tie I had tossed in the chair in front of my desk. She took a seat, still holding on to my tie, playing with it between her fingers . . .
I pressed a hand to my desk, trying to ground myself, and squeezed my eyes shut. The last Halloween we’d spent together, she had dressed in a mafia suit and had worn a red tie. Later that night we’d used the tie—
“Connor?”
My eyes flashed open. “Why are you here?” I rolled my sleeves to my elbows. It was getting too damn hot.
She dropped the tie on the edge of my desk, and I thanked God for that, but then she was touching her blouse, and it took all my willpower not to think about her full breasts beneath her silk shirt. “I’m sorry. Declan wanted me to drop off the hotel and club information, and . . .”
Her attention shifted from the tie to my eyes, and I had to take a step back. Her hazel eyes were full of mourning.
Did she feel guilty about the past?
Did it matter?
“I want to put the past behind us.” Her chest rose and fell with subtle breaths.
My shoulders arched back as I looked away from her. “If I do business with Declan, we can be civil. We don’t need to talk about the past,” I forced myself to say with a clenched jaw. I sat down in my seat, worried the floor would swallow me if I stood much longer. She had far too much of an effect on me. It wasn’t right.
“Thank you.” She stood up. “I’m afraid Declan will fire me if he doesn’t think you and I can work together.”
I deliberated her words, not sure how I felt about lying for her. “I may not like working with you, but I won’t ruin your life.” Not the way you ruined mine.
But, I couldn’t think like that. Everything happened for a reason, right? If she hadn’t screwed me over, I would never have joined the Marines. I might have ended up a replica of my father, the thought of which made me physically ill.
“Friends?” There was a slight wobble to her bottom lip as she regarded me with a somber expression.
Her hand was in the air, outstretched over my desk. “Sure,” I said as I tried to digest my strange emotions. I finally took her hand as I stood. The warmth of her skin, and the feel of her hand in mine created a strange sharp pain in the pit of my stomach—an all too familiar haunting pain.
Still holding her hand, my eyes snapped shut, and I swallowed, almost choking on the desert heat of the Middle East. Memories ripped through my mind: the IED tearing a chunk out of my platoons Hummer, my face buried in sand, my body broken and bruised . . . My friend’s wail as he tried to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place.
“Connor?” Olivia’s voice had me shooting back to the present, safe within the four walls of my office.
My eyes opened in dismay. “Shit. Sorry.” I released my grip on her hand and watched as she rubbed her one hand with the other. And instead of offering some lame excuse, like normal, I said, “I was thinking of Iraq.”
Her lips parted but then closed. I was pretty sure she had no idea what to say, so I helped her out. “You remind me of the blistering Iraq heat—easy to get burned.”
She lowered her eyes to the floor as her hands slipped to the sides of her cream-colored pants. “See you in Vegas,” she said with a flat, emotionless voice.
God, what was wrong with me? “You still afraid of flying? Of heights?” I found myself asking with no clue as to why.
“No,” she said as her eyes landed on mine. Her head angled and her lips parted. “Well, maybe a little.” A moment of tension rocked the room between us, and she turned away.
I burned a hole in her back as she left my office. How could I let her get to me after all our history? It was like the last ten years were a dream, and I was a twenty-two-year-old kid in love again.
But I had been naïve. And I had no intention of being duped again.
Chapter Eight
Connor
The bullet pierced the target, and I peered through the sight. I had nailed the paper figure in the head, from six hundred meters away.
“There’s not much left to that paper.” Ben removed his sunglasses and tipped his head in my direction. “You all right?”
Still kneeling, I aimed and took one last shot. “Everything’s wrong.” I stood up and squinted at him, the desert sun burning my eyes. I could feel it turning my tan skin darker.
“Here, man.” Ben reached into the cooler for a bottle of Corona and popped the top off.
“Thanks.” I set my rifle down and swallowed the chilled gold liquid. “This is a nice place you have.” Ben was a couple years younger than me, but we’d been in the Marines at the same time. He had been in a different unit, but our paths had crossed during training and in Iraq. I tried to remain close to my fellow veterans since I’d been out of the military. We needed each other if only to be sure we all kept sane.
“Thank you.” He scratched the black stubble on his jaw and his light green eyes focused on mine as he hopped up onto the back of his truck bed. “Twenty acres of absolute nothing. Told you my place was better than a gun range.”
“You happy here? Working as private security?” I reached for my shades and leaned against the side of his truck, taking another sip.
“Yeah. It’s okay. I’m not a huge fan of protecting big wigs with a lot of money, though.” He smirked at me. “Although now it seems you’re a big shot, too. How come you never told me your father was some rich businessman?” He raked a hand through his black hair.
I shook my head and kicked my boot at the dirt. “I’m not like him.” I released a breath. “I was wild in college, partying and throwing his money around.” Then I met Olivia. You bring out the wild in me. You make me feel so alive. And I never want us to end, she once told me.
But it did end.
“Connor?”
“Anyways,” I choked out the word, my mind moaning and protesting the memories which assaulted and battered my brain, “the Marines changed me, and I realized having bricks of money isn’t my thing.”
He released a deep, throaty laugh. “Well, shit. Money isn’t the problem. It’s what you do with it that can be.” He reached for his baseball hat and put it on. “But I know what you mean. When I was recruited to play for the Dodgers, I totally let the fame and money go to my head.” He took another sip of his Corona. “I’m almost glad I blew my shoulder out.”
/>
“I always forget I’m friends with a famous athlete,” I joked.
“Well, now I’m friends with a billionaire.”
“Hell, the company might be worth a lot, but I’m not. And it’s just temporary.” Thank, God. I was almost ready to display a countdown clock in my office. The time when Mason came home couldn’t come soon enough.
“When’s Mason’s tour over?”
“Just over five months.” Too. Damn. Long.
“What will you do after he takes over?”
“Same as before.” I pushed away from the truck and set my Corona on the ground before reaching for my rifle.
“You liked that life?”
I thought about Lydia, the girl I’d rescued almost a month ago. “Yeah.”
“What about a love life? You ever going to settle down?” He jumped off the truck bed and stepped up behind me as I kneeled on the ground.
I once thought about it. Olivia’s name tickled my throat. “I’ll settle down the day you do,” I answered instead.
“I’m living in Vegas. That’s never going to happen.” He laughed.
“Then I guess you have your answer.” I fired off a round and waited until the bullet tore through the target, destroying it completely. “Wanna come to the grand opening of a club tonight?” I’d almost forgot why I was in Vegas.
“Sure. Need a wingman?”
God, just the opposite. I needed a shield.
***
Olivia
It didn’t matter how crowded the casino was—he was impossible to miss. With his back to me, I took note of the silvery-gray suit he wore instead of his usual jeans and T-shirt.
The frantic beeping of the slot machines matched my heartbeat pound for pound as I crossed the room.
A woman with long, blonde hair pressed her hand to Connor’s back, which had me stopping about ten feet shy of the table.
I didn’t see Lauren anywhere, but she might have already met up with Declan.
Buried Lies Page 5
