The Investigator: Norcross Series

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The Investigator: Norcross Series Page 10

by Hackett, Anna


  Leaving him to his calls, she puttered around in the glossy kitchen and made herself a latte. She turned, and through the glass wall, saw Rhys leaning back in his chair, deep in conversation on the phone.

  She hadn’t realized that watching a man work could be hot.

  She wandered back, wondering idly where everybody was. Although from what she knew of Vander, Rhys, and no doubt the other men who worked at Norcross, they were out doing badass security things.

  Pulling out her cell phone, she sucked in a breath and called her insurance company.

  After being put on hold and shuffled around to a few different people, she had her claim in. When she got back to Rhys’ office, he was scowling hard.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Apparently your ex is in deep to the Zakharov family.”

  “Oh God.” She dropped into her chair.

  “He was having problems at his club, and started bleeding money. Looks like it started about nine months ago.”

  Haven closed her eyes. That was about the time he started to change.

  Rhys took her mug and set it down. He pulled her closer until her legs bumped his.

  “That’s when he got moody, mean,” she said. “That’s when he started cheating.”

  “He borrowed money from Sergei Zakharov.”

  “Took money from criminals,” she spat.

  “Yeah. Instead of manning up, he took the easy path. Or what he thought was the easy path. Now, they own him. My contact said he’s even more in debt now.”

  “God.” She rubbed between her eyes.

  Rhys’ fingers slid up her thighs. “It’s not your problem.”

  She nodded.

  He cocked his head. “You still feel something for him?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of the cute tote Gia had gotten for her. She stiffened.

  Rhys cocked his head. “Haven?”

  “Leo. He tried to call right before the explosion…”

  Rhys’ face turned dark. “Answer.”

  “What?” She stared at him.

  “See what he’s got to say.” Rhys yanked her forward, pulling her into his lap.

  She thumbed the button. “What?”

  “Haven, babe, thank God.”

  “Leo.” Her skin crawled.

  Rhys’ hand on her thigh squeezed, and that move steadied her.

  “Why you’re calling me?” she demanded.

  “I know you’ve had…some troubles. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “How do you know about my troubles, Leo?”

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “Would it be because you happened to land these troubles on me? And when I say troubles, I mean theft, beatings, kidnappings, and someone blowing up my apartment with me in it!” Her voice rose to a yell.

  Vander appeared in the doorway, a troubled look on his face.

  Rhys waved his brother off.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” Leo continued, voice wheedling. “I love you, and I never wanted you hurt.”

  “You love me?” Her voice turned incredulous.

  Beneath her, she felt Rhys stiffen.

  “If this is your idea of love, you’ve lost your mind. If you love someone, you don’t cheat on them, you don’t hit them, and you don’t bring shit down on them.”

  “Babe.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t call me babe. Just tell me what you did, Leo. I’m in danger.”

  His breathing was harsh across the line.

  “I’m in deep, Haven. I owe a lot of money. I’ve kept tabs on you. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  She snorted. “Well I’m not.”

  “I saw the article in the paper about the Monet.”

  She stilled. “What did you do?”

  “I still remember you bitching about how easy it was at Alyssa’s gallery for someone to sneak in as a police officer or delivery driver. I remember you told me about that famous robbery.”

  Oh. God. The robbery at the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum in Boston. The thieves had posed as police officers. The thieves stole over half a billion dollars’ worth of paintings. She’d used Leo as a sounding board, trusted him, and he’d used it against her.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I was in bad trouble, Haven. They were threatening to break my kneecaps.”

  “They blew up my apartment!”

  “They’re trying to get to you to control me—”

  “Tell them I’m nothing to you.”

  “I love you, Haven.”

  “Well, I do not love you,” she snapped.

  “You don’t mean—”

  Suddenly, the phone was gone from her hands.

  “Haven is not yours to protect anymore,” Rhys growled into the phone. “You tell Zakharov and his thugs that she’s out of this.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Haven heard Leo’s tinny, irate voice through the phone.

  “I’m Haven’s man,” Rhys said. “She’s mine now.”

  Rhys’ words sent a tingle through her.

  “I’m the guy who won’t cheat on her, or hit her.” Brown eyes met hers. “Who’ll keep her safe.”

  She felt the words deep inside. Rhys would do all of that.

  But eventually, he’d lose interest, and move on and leave her in tatters.

  “She’s mine,” Leo growled across the line.

  Haven scowled. Like she was a bone to fight over.

  “You fucked up,” Rhys said. “You’re still fucking up, Becker. Call Zakharov off her.”

  And with that, Rhys ended the call. He tossed her phone onto his desk.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “No. My ex is still ruining my life.”

  Rhys cupped her jaw. “We’ll get you through this.”

  Maybe. But Haven wasn’t sure what the bigger danger to her was—Leo and his criminal troubles, or Rhys Norcross.

  * * *

  “I’m not sure I’m in a party mood.”

  Gia leaned forward, dabbing makeup on Haven’s face.

  “You deserve some fun.” Gia made a humming sound. “Your bruising is looking much better.”

  “It is not. It’s green and yellow. I look like a zombie.”

  “It’s easier to cover now. There.” Gia turned Haven toward the huge, well-lit mirror in Gia’s swanky bathroom. The gorgeous space looked like a spa.

  Gia had almost hidden all the bruising completely. Oh. She’d also given Haven sexy, smokey eyes.

  “My brother will want to drag you out of here and into his bed to do naughty things.”

  “Gia!”

  Gia wrinkled her nose. “Which I never want you to tell me about in detail, because ew.”

  “I told you I’m not going there.” Haven couldn’t go there. “Look what the last man I let into my life has done. I’m a mess, my life’s a mess.”

  “Let Rhys make it better.”

  “I need to make it better.”

  Gia cocked her hip. She looked gorgeous in a red dress that showed off some wicked cleavage. She was like a pocket-size Sophia Loren.

  “You don’t have to do it alone,” Gia said quietly.

  “I do.” Haven’s heart squeezed. “I’m always alone.”

  Gia cursed in Italian. “Your stupid father.”

  “Gia.”

  “No. You’re not alone anymore. You’re my best friend. And whether you want to admit it or not, you and my brother are a thing.”

  “We are not.”

  “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Where?” Gia persisted.

  “There were extenuating circumstances—”

  “Where?”

  “Fine. At Rhys’ place.”

  “Where exactly?”

  Haven sighed. “In Rhys’ bed.”

  “Was he in the bed?”

  Haven’s teeth clicked together.
“You are a pain. Yes.”

  Gia smiled like a queen who was well-pleased with her subjects.

  “I hate you,” Haven muttered.

  “No, you don’t, you love me.”

  Haven sighed. “I do.”

  Gia hugged her. “Come on, let’s get some champagne. Good champagne makes everything better.”

  Haven let herself be dragged out of Gia’s bathroom and bedroom.

  In the living area, Gia’s brothers were in the kitchen around the huge island. They were all holding beers, and huddled around the platters of food that Gia had done up for the party.

  “Why do they have to be so hot?” Haven said.

  “I’ve bemoaned the same thing lots of times,” Gia said.

  Easton—in one of his expensive suits—was rocking the hot-businessman look. Vander was in a suit as well, but he’d lost the jacket, and had his shirt sleeves rolled up, showing off the tattoos on his muscular forearms. He had the “mouthwatering badass” look cornered.

  And Rhys…

  Haven’s belly went hot and melty. He’d changed into dark jeans, with a forest-green shirt that fit him like a glove. His sleeves were rolled up as well, and his hair was shaggy like he’d just rolled out of bed. He looked like a sexy rock star.

  He smiled at her, his gaze heating. It skimmed over her silver dress, which had long sleeves, and although he couldn’t see it yet, dipped low at the back. Very low.

  He grabbed two glasses of champagne off the island and handed one to his sister, then one to Haven.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he murmured.

  She quickly took a sip of her drink.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Easton strode that way.

  A moment later, Saxon entered. He was in suit pants as well, with a crisp, white shirt. He looked like a sexy, wealthy Norse God. Move over, Thor.

  Haven watched Gia’s eyes flash, then her face smoothed into blank lines.

  “Mr. Buchanan has graced us with his presence,” Gia drawled.

  His green gaze skimmed over Gia, something predatory on his face. “I wouldn’t miss out on free food and drink.”

  “No surprise there. You’re richer than God, but like mooching off me.”

  He nabbed an olive off a platter. “You do know how to make good food.”

  Gia arched a brow. “And a woman’s place is in the kitchen?”

  Saxon smiled at her. “Ah, there are those sharp claws of yours, Contessa.”

  Contessa? Fascinated, Haven watched the pair. They’d completely forgotten anyone else existed.

  “And no, my woman’s place is in my bed.” With that comeback, Saxon turned and headed towards the fridge.

  Hmm. Haven watched Gia struggle with her temper and shoot daggers at Saxon’s broad back. Holy smokes, the sexual tension was turning Haven on a little bit.

  The doorbell rang again, and more people arrived. Most were connected to Gia’s work. Someone put some music on.

  For a little while, Haven forgot about Leo, the painting, everything.

  Anytime she looked up, Rhys was watching her, and it made her feel warm and jittery inside. She heard Gia and Saxon sniping at each other again. She was totally grilling her friend as soon as she could. How two people could devour each other with their eyes, while flinging shit at each other, she didn’t know, but Saxon and Gia had it down to a fine art.

  Needing some air, Haven headed out onto Gia’s balcony. She leaned on the railing, the breeze cool on her face.

  She sensed Rhys before she felt him behind her. She clearly had a finely tuned Rhys radar.

  He dropped a kiss to her shoulder, and she shivered.

  “If I’d seen the back of this dress when you’d first come out, I wouldn’t have let you wear it.”

  She tipped her head back. “It’s not the Dark Ages, Rhys. Men don’t get to dictate what women wear.”

  He trailed a finger slowly down her spine, sensation igniting in its wake. “I hate any man looking at all this honey-gold skin.”

  She leaned into him, and felt herself losing herself in him.

  He spun her around, and his lips were close to hers, just a tiny fraction away.

  “Rhys—”

  “I love it when you say my name like that. Like you want so much, but you’re fighting so hard.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, nibbling her lips. His hand slid around her ass as he kissed her. She rubbed against him, her tongue stroking his. She was so weak.

  Then she pulled back. “I can’t risk this, risk you.”

  “Haven, trust me.”

  “You’ll break my heart.”

  He froze, staring at her.

  “You want a good time, but for me—” She shook her head. “I’ll be left fumbling with pieces that will never go back together. And it’ll be a mess, with Easton and Gia—”

  Rhys kissed her again. She clung to him.

  “It’s worth the risk,” he murmured. “We can’t predict the future, but I want you, Haven. In my bed, in my arms.”

  She was totally going to cave. “I…I need another drink.”

  She ducked under his arm and made it back inside before he stopped her.

  Gia’s apartment was filled with laughter, music, and conversation. Haven pushed through the crowd and set her glass down on the island. She needed a break from Rhys’ orbit. He continued to pull her in, and she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  What if she just let go? What if she let him claim her?

  Temptation trembled through her.

  The doorbell rang. Some late arrival.

  No one was headed for the door, so she reached it and opened it.

  A smiling, young woman, wearing a little slip of a blue dress, beamed at her. “Hi. I have some stuff for the party. Can you give me a hand bringing it in?”

  “Sure.” Haven stepped out.

  The woman’s friendly smile shifted to something that made Haven frown. Then the woman gave Haven a shove down the hall.

  “Hey!” Haven squeaked.

  “Good work.”

  The male voice made her turn, and she saw Leo. Her eyes widened.

  He pressed a cloth to her mouth, his arm snaking around her.

  “What the hell!” Her words were muffled and thick. She struggled against him.

  Then dizziness hit her, her legs turning wobbly.

  Leo’s face turned wavy. This couldn’t be happening.

  Then there was nothing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Taking a swig of his beer, Rhys scanned the party for Haven. Gia always put on a good spread. It had been at a party just like this one that he’d first seen Haven.

  She’d been standing in Gia’s living room, smiling, wearing a sexy, green dress that hugged that sweet ass of hers. She hadn’t laughed much, had been a little tense, but Rhys had still felt like he’d been hit by a flash-bang grenade.

  Now, he’d finally had a taste of her, and experienced the smart, sexy woman beneath.

  He wanted her. All of her.

  His hands tightened on the beer bottle. He needed to get her safe first.

  He still couldn’t see her in the crowd and frowned. He’d known that she’d needed a moment after the balcony. She felt their connection, but she was fighting it.

  That damn ex of hers had her spooked.

  He spotted Gia talking with her friends. Center of the party, as always.

  “Hey, Gia, have you seen Haven?”

  His sister frowned. “No, check the bathroom, maybe?”

  Rhys strode that way. Saxon caught his gaze.

  “You look like you want to smash someone’s teeth in,” Saxon said.

  “You seen Haven?”

  Saxon straightened. “No.”

  Together they quickly checked Gia’s condo. Panic—hot and burning—hit Rhys’ chest. There was no sign of her.

  They met Vander in the kitchen.

  “Haven’s missing,” Rhys said.

  His brother grabbed his phone and put it
on speaker.

  “This better be life or death,” Ace’s voice growled from the phone. Ace hadn’t come to the party as he’d had prior plans.

  Rhys’ gut churned. “Haven’s missing from Gia’s party.”

  “Shit.” The rustle of sheets, then a muffled female voice in the background. “This is work. You should head out, babe. Right. Vander, I’m getting my laptop now.”

  A few moments passed.

  “Pulling security footage.” There was a pause. “Shit. Damn. Fuck.”

  Vander’s phone pinged, as did Rhys and Saxon’s.

  Rhys yanked out his phone and stared at the image of Haven outside Gia’s door, struggling with a man. A woman in a blue dress watched with a faint smile.

  “A man carried her out of the building,” Ace said.

  “Ace, I need his face,” Rhys growled.

  “Here.”

  Another ding, and a new image appeared on Rhys’ phone. It was a perfect shot of the man’s face, with Haven’s head lolling over his arm.

  Leo Becker.

  “He drugged her.” A roar started inside Rhys’ head.

  “Keep a lock on it,” Vander said.

  “Hey, the woman in the blue dress is still here.” Saxon jerked his head toward the living room.

  Rhys swiveled. He spotted the woman amongst the partygoers, then he exploded across the living room.

  “Rhys!” Vander barked out.

  The woman lifted her head, her eyes widening as Rhys barreled down on her. She backed up and Rhys pressed a hand against her shoulder and shoved her against the wall. Gasps and murmurs broke out.

  “Rhys!” Gia snapped. “You can’t—”

  “What did he pay you?” Rhys’ tone was low and deadly.

  “Rhys?” Gia said again, confusion in her voice.

  “He paid you to lure her out of the party. He drugged and abducted her.”

  Gia hissed out a sharp breath. “Haven? Oh, God. Leah, what the fuck?”

  Leah licked her lips. “It was all in fun. He’s her boyfriend, and he wanted to surprise her.” The woman was talking fast, babbling. “He asked me to find some way to get her into the hall, but I got lucky and she answered the door. Apparently, she’s into kinky stuff, likes being kidnapped.”

  “Fuck!” Rhys exploded.

  Vander and Saxon gripped his arms and pulled him away from the woman.

 

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