“I bought you some supplies.” Gia nodded her head toward what Haven guessed was Rhys’ bedroom. “Clothes, underwear, toiletries, and makeup. Just a few days’ worth. We’ll get more.”
“Can I stay with you?” Haven asked.
There was a deep growl behind her, and Rhys wrapped an arm around her. She found herself pressed against his body.
“No,” he clipped out.
“Rhys—”
“You’re staying with me.”
No. No. There was no way she could fight the pull of him if they were living together. “I don’t—”
“It’s not safe. You could put Gia in danger.”
Horror rolled through Haven. She hadn’t even thought of that. “Then you’ll be in danger, too.”
He cupped her cheek. “I’m trained. It’s my job.”
“No one is going to get you, Haven.” Vander’s hard tone wasn’t just a promise, it was a vow.
And she saw the echo of that in Rhys’ eyes.
Okay. She could do this. She’d sleep on his couch. And she’d keep her eyes, hands, and lips off Rhys’ body. Somehow.
“I have drinks with a client tonight,” Gia said.
“What client?” Saxon demanded. “It’s late for a business meeting.”
Gia pinned him with a look. “I don’t run my schedule through you, Buchanan.”
A scowl crossed Saxon’s handsome face. “I think—”
Gia held up her hand. “I don’t care what you think.”
Sexy, elegant Saxon growled. Haven watched the pair eagerly. What was this? How had she missed the tension between these two before? Maybe because she’d been too busy avoiding Rhys.
Gia focused on Haven. “I’ll cancel—”
“No,” Haven said. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
“She needs to rest anyway,” Rhys added.
Gia gave her a tight hug. “I’m already sorting through stuff to get you a replacement license, ID, credit cards.”
Haven smiled. “Thanks, G.”
“No more danger for you.”
Haven snorted. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I don’t want a world without you in it, girlfriend.”
Tears pricked Haven’s eyes. “Don’t make me cry.”
“He’ll take care of you.” Gia’s voice was a quiet murmur.
“I know, but as soon as it’s safe, I’m out of here.”
Gia smiled that maddening smile of hers. “We’ll see.”
Why could no one understand? “He’s your brother, my boss’ brother—”
Gia kissed her cheek. “Sleep well.” She winked. “Or not.”
After blowing kisses to her brothers, and shooting a glare at Saxon, Gia left.
“I think I need a shower,” Haven said to the sexy man-huddle at the kitchen island. She wanted the blood and soot gone.
Rhys broke away. “Let me show you where to find everything.”
His bedroom had white walls, and the same warm, wood floor as the living area. A bed with an industrial-style, metal headboard faced floor-to-ceiling windows that highlighted the Bay Bridge. He pointed through to the spacious bathroom, with lots of gray granite and a large shower.
His hands reached into her hair, tugging her ponytail loose.
“Take your time,” he said.
Soon, Haven was naked in Rhys’ shower. She closed her eyes. She was in so much trouble, and she didn’t just mean exploding apartments and art thieves.
Grabbing one of Rhys’ fluffy, gray towels off the rack, she dried off. She dug through the bags Gia had left on Rhys’ bed, and found that her friend had bought all of Haven’s favorite toiletries. She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a cute blue T-shirt. She studied her hip. Hmm, she had a few new bruises appearing. Well, she’d just add them to the collection.
She headed back into the living area and heard the men talking, their voices low.
“We need to drill into the Russian mafia link.” That was Vander.
“I’m already on it,” Rhys replied. “I’m digging into everything on the Zakharov family.”
“What’s the link to Haven?” Easton asked, clearly not happy.
“Don’t know, but I’ll find out.” Rhys’ voice was hard, dark. “And neutralize it.”
“So you’re all-in for her?” Saxon asked.
“Yes.”
“You sure? You’ve been dancing around this.”
Dread filled her, her heart pounding as she listened. She was so screwed up. She wanted him to want her, but she knew she should stay away.
“Haven’s mine. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect her.”
She closed her eyes, trembled. No one had ever said anything like that before. When she’d met Leo, it had been fun. He’d liked collecting art. He’d wanted a pretty woman on his arm in his club, and to have a good time.
He never put himself on the line for her. The opposite, in fact.
Her father loved her as much as he could. But after her mom had died, he hadn’t been there for her in the way she’d needed. As soon as she’d gone to college, he’d left on his trips overseas to provide medical services in developing countries.
She’d had no one to protect her but herself.
Haven waited, listening, as the men kept talking.
They talked some more about the investigation, until she finally decided that she’d eavesdropped enough. She set her shoulders back and walked into the kitchen.
“Well, at least I don’t smell like smoke anymore.”
Rhys moved toward her. He slid an arm around her and pulled her close.
She glanced around at the serious faces. “What’s going on?”
“You don’t need to worry, but we’re working on this mafia link,” Rhys said. “The Zakharov family out of Miami is involved.”
Miami? Her skin went cold. “I don’t know anyone in the mafia, here or in Miami.”
Vander almost smiled. “We didn’t think you did, but there’s a link somewhere. Rhys will find it. He’s the best.”
“We questioned the man who hit you. He gave up his crew.” Rhys pointed to a sheet of paper on the island.
There were photos. No, mugshots. “These are the thieves?”
Rhys nodded.
Looking at the photos, she stiffened.
“Haven?”
“This one.” She tapped one man with a scar on his face. “I’ve seen him before.”
“Where? At the museum?”
She sucked in a breath. “No, at my ex’s club in Miami.”
Rhys and the others didn’t appear surprised.
“I’m already pulling information on your ex,” Rhys said. “He’s got his fingers in a lot of not-exactly-legal pies.”
“Oh, God.” She sagged against the island.
Rhys squeezed her. “Don’t worry—”
“He dragged me into this.” Her voice rose.
“We don’t know that yet.”
“He tried to call me earlier.”
Rhys’ face hardened.
“I didn’t answer.” She pressed a balled hand to her throat. “I left. I’ve been gone six months! I live on the other side of the country.”
Rhys yanked her to his chest. “Calm down.”
She dropped her forehead to his chest. “My fucking ex did this. See, this is why I’ve sworn off men.”
She ignored chuckles from the others.
Rhys tugged on her hair. “We’ll see.”
* * *
Rhys woke to the smell of coconuts and smiled.
He was lying flat on his back in his bed, with Haven clamped onto him like she wasn’t planning to let go.
He glanced down. Her arm rested across his chest, one of her legs was thrown over his thigh. She was wearing another tiny set of pajamas. The very short shorts gave him a hint of ass cheek. Her hair was everywhere, her breath puffing against his chest.
Damn. He didn’t usually spend an entire night with a woman. He didn’t really like someone in his space. In the military, he’
d spent many an uncomfortable night sleeping with his entire team in some pretty rough places. It made him appreciate his own space.
But he’d happily wake up with Haven McKinney wrapped around him any day.
She stirred and made a cute sound. Then her fingers stroked his chest, her lips pressing against his skin.
Shit. Was she even awake?
Then she slowly peppered kisses across his pec. Fuck. Blood filled his cock, and need throbbed hungrily through him.
“Haven,” he growled.
She froze. She looked up his chest, sleepy eyes clearing. He was happy to see that while her bruises were changing to ugly greens and yellows, they were getting better.
“We’re in the same bed,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“We weren’t,” she squeaked.
No, last night, when she’d faded, he’d put her to bed. She’d babbled about him sleeping on the couch, which he’d neither confirmed nor denied. But he was six foot three, so he sure as hell hadn’t been planning to sleep on the couch.
She pulled back, and her gaze snagged on the tattoo on his chest. An American flag. He’d gotten most of his ink after he’d left the military. A way to celebrate his service, and the change in his life. A new start and freedom.
Haven bit her lip, and his cock throbbed even harder.
“You can touch me,” he said.
She squeezed her eyes closed. “No.”
“I want you to touch me.”
She made a sound that was mostly a whimper. “I’m so weak.” Her eyes opened. “Damn you for being so hot, Rhys Norcross.”
He grinned at her and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“What do you want, Haven?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, life rarely gives it to me. I wanted my mom to get better, but she died from cancer.”
Rhys’ smile faded.
“I wanted a loving dad, and I got one dedicated to saving the world, instead. I wanted a man, a partner, a home. I ended up with Leo. I don’t get what I want, Rhys.” Her hand moved over his chest. “I get a taste of good things, then they’re taken away.”
He swallowed a growl. He hated that she’d suffered all of that. She deserved better, more.
He wanted to give it to her.
“What do you want, Haven, right now?”
“To be safe.”
“You feel safe right now? Right this instant?”
She hesitated, then she nodded.
“What else?”
“I want to touch you.” A whispered confession that sounded torn from her.
“So, touch. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m afraid.” Her eyes closed. “I told myself no men. Especially not gorgeous ones who are closely related to my boss and my best friend.”
“Touch me. Take what you want.”
She shivered. “Okay. But you can’t touch me.”
Dammit. He saw in her face that she expected him to balk.
All right, sexy Haven. Rhys raised his arms above his head and grabbed the slats on his metal headboard.
She sucked in a breath, her gaze locked on his torso. In this position, it drew the muscles in his arms, chest, and abdomen tight.
“No one should be as hot as you. It’s so unfair.”
Her gaze wandered down, over his abs to his black boxers. It lingered. Yeah, she could hardly miss his rock-hard erection.
“Haven, less looking, more touching.”
She leaned over him. “I can do both.”
She smoothed her slim hands up his chest. She found his tattoo and traced it. Then she lowered her head and licked it.
Fuck. His body bucked.
Her blue eyes looked at him. “I like having control.”
She’d had control of her life stripped away. He was happy to give her some back, even if it killed him.
She flicked at his nipple, then nibbled at it, her nails pricking the skin of his abs.
He pulled in a shuddering breath. She looked lost in a pleasurable daze. Then her fingers skimmed down once, running along his hipbone, then slid into his boxers.
Her hand circled his cock.
He growled and lifted a hand.
“No.” She stilled. “Put it back. I’m in charge.”
Shit. He grabbed the headboard again.
She freed his throbbing cock. He wanted to shove her back, thrust himself deep inside her. But he knew she wasn’t ready, and seeing her bruises and scrapes, he didn’t want to hurt her. He was fucking hungry for her. It wouldn’t be slow or gentle.
She pumped his cock. “God, even your cock is perfect.”
“Faster, Haven,” he groaned.
She gripped him harder, stroked him faster.
Oh, yeah. Rhys pumped into her fist. He had enjoyed sex in lots of different ways, and this was almost innocent in comparison to some of the stuff he’d done. But she was so focused on him, his cock, and the need inside him was white hot.
“Haven,” he growled.
“I want to watch you come. Do it, Rhys. For me.”
With another pump, he groaned her name. Her other hand slid in, cupping his balls. He came hard, spilling all over her hand and his gut. Hot sensation coursed through him. She watched him through hooded eyes, her chest rising and falling, pretty breasts pushing against her tank. There was fire in her eyes.
With a growl, Rhys reared up. She gasped.
He yanked her into his lap, his hands sliding straight up the wide leg of her shorts.
“Rhys!”
His hands slid under her panties, two fingers pumping inside her.
She moaned, her hips moving.
“You’re drenched,” he said.
She made a husky sound and rocked.
“Yeah, ride my hand, baby.”
She did and he gripped her hip, helping her move.
“Oh God.” Her head fell back, giving him a view of her long neck.
“That’s it.” He thumbed her clit.
“Rhys.” She rocked harder.
“Look at me, Haven. Now.”
Her head fell forward, their gazes locked.
“Come,” he ordered.
He watched her orgasm roll over her. Her thighs trapped his hand, and she shuddered and moaned his name.
Pure beauty, right there. He earned this. Every dirty fight, every dusty hellhole, every cursed mission had brought him to this.
She collapsed against him, her face pressed to his neck.
He liked holding her limp, well-pleasured body as much as he liked pleasuring her. He stroked his hand down her back.
“We need to shower and get to work.” He needed to find the thieves and whoever the fuck was pulling their strings.
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled.
“That includes you, beautiful.”
“What?” She blinked at him.
“You’re coming with me to the Norcross office. Shower first.”
She lifted her head. “Am I showering alone?”
“Yes, otherwise I’ll spend the next few hours fucking you, and we’ll be late.”
She licked her lips and he felt it in his gut. He slapped her ass. “Move it, and I’ll go make some breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“I can toast bread and scramble an egg.” That and grilling were about the extent of his cooking abilities, much to his mother’s dismay. Clara Norcross loved to cook, preferably hearty Italian food, but it hadn’t rubbed off on Rhys.
He gave Haven a slow kiss, and took his time. He waited until she had that dazed look on her face. It made him smile.
“Now, get moving, babe.”
Chapter Ten
She’d never been to the Norcross office before.
As Rhys led Haven inside, she took it all in. Unsurprisingly, it was a gorgeous space. Huge and open, with an industrial vibe. There were touches of wood and metal, with a polished-concrete floor. It definitely said “badasses work here.”
Rhys’ office was all glass walls. H
is desk was…messy.
“How do you find anything?” she asked.
He shot her a smile. “I know where everything is.”
“I don’t buy that, at all.”
There were sticky notes everywhere, stacks of files, half-scribbled-on notepads, and pieces of paper dotted all over.
Her gaze fell on his smile. He had a really, really nice one. It made her remember what they’d done in his bed that morning. Her body tingled. It wanted more. Meanwhile, her brain was screaming at her to run.
“Haven, if you’re still trying to go with the sworn-off-men thing, stop looking at me like that.”
She licked her lips.
“Stop that, too,” he said.
She looked away. Across the space, she spotted a man and froze. Wow. He was really muscular with smooth, brown skin, and cropped, dark hair. He glanced her way, and she almost swallowed her tongue. He was gorgeous, with strong features, a hard jaw, and pale green eyes. He nodded at her and she waved.
He looked like a movie star. He looked like he should be in an action movie, scaling cliffs and leaping out of planes.
“You can stop drooling now,” Rhys said, tone amused.
“Who is that?” she asked.
“Rome. He’s our main guy for bodyguard duty. Guy has a sixth sense for trouble.” Rhys pushed a chair over to her. “Sit.”
She sat and watched as Rhys dropped in his chair. He pulled a file across his desk and opened it.
“I forgot to mention that my friend Harry called,” she said. “He’s an art dealer. He heard a rumor of an underground auction of a very expensive painting.”
Rhys’ gaze sharpened. “He have any details?”
She shook her head.
“How good of a friend is this Harry?” Rhys’ tone turned growly.
“Very good. He’s handsome, a good dresser, kind, funny, and an art lover.”
Rhys gripped the arms of her chair and wheeled her closer, scowling.
“I get on very well with him and his husband, Trent.”
Rhys relaxed. “You’re a pain in my ass. That’s earned you some punishment.”
She just smiled at him. God, it was nice to feel safe. To know that this man was looking out for her.
“I need to make some calls to Miami,” he said.
Her good feelings plummeted. “About Leo.”
“Yeah. Kitchen’s over there.” He pointed. “Get yourself some coffee. And you need to call your insurance.”
The Investigator: Norcross Series Page 9
