Paris
“Hola, muchachos.”
I sit up, pulling the sheet to my naked breast as I stare at the door.
The lock is picked.
And Diego is hovering over us.
Damn it. Of all hit men, he’s the last person I hoped to see.
“Dios mio. This room is trashed.”
“Diego,” Jaxson casually greets our sexy yet deadly counterpart, as if the ruthless mercenary doesn’t have a huge Valkyrie Rifle M4 trained on us. Big gun. Big feet. Big . . . yeah, don’t I know he’s packing. The last time I set eyes on the man he was in boxer briefs that did nothing to hide him sporting a woody. A shame for womankind the world over he and the monster between his thighs are not going to make it out of this hotel room.
We ended up falling asleep on the floor. Jaxson on his stomach and me on my back. He’s lying next to me, his head by my feet, with his hand casually placed on my inner thigh and his fingers resting on my mound.
Both of us exhausted and as naked as the day we were born.
“I see you’ve found her,” Diego comments, his lips twitching as his eyes skim the room. The couch pillows are tossed about the room. I refer to this pillow fight as revenge for the times he shot at me. Jaxson, he calls it foreplay. The antique chair next to the couch is flipped over, lucky to be in one piece after I rather vigorously drove down onto Jaxson’s cock, in the throes of the mother of all climaxes, and set the chair toppling over. My former bath towel acts as a new shade on the floor lamp over by the bar. With one sweep of his arm, Jaxson cleared the bar’s smooth, uncomfortable wood top of its expensive liquors and fine crystal glasses, which now decorate the Aubusson carpet. “I’m quenching a thirst,” he informed me, his lips wet with my juices.
The sheets are half on the bed, half off. The room smells like sex. And holy hell, Jaxson looks exhausted. Well-fucked and well-loved, like he just stepped out of a bordello full of only women and him.
I tilt my head for a quick peek in the mirror on the wall closest to the bed. Jaxson made me watch—yeah, he made me—as he fucked me up against that mirror. Nothing is more beautiful than witnessing Jaxson’s climax. The hungry gleam in his eyes. That maddening grin of his. We mated. We fucked. We pushed each other’s boundaries. We loved.
I barely recognize myself. My hair’s wild. Besides the bruises on my throat, there’s a damn hickey. And muscles ache in places I didn’t know existed until now.
I’ll die a happy woman.
Jaxson rolls to his feet. Uncaring that he’s unarmed and . . . sweet mother Mary, semierect. “Coffee first?” he asks, moving away from me and toward the phone on the other side of the bed. Drawing Diego’s attention along with him. “Might as well enjoy the amenities while we still have them. I’ll dial room service.”
That causes Diego to snort. “Amigo, there’s got to be hundreds of dollars worth of damage in here. The booze alone . . . I’d say it’s a waste but . . .”
As they’re talking, I come to my feet, my thighs barking and my abused woman’s place worse for wear. I freeze, glancing up as Diego makes another noise. A very male sounding noise, like a groan.
Sure enough, his eyes are back on me.
“Don’t say it,” Jaxson cuts him off.
“You two are going to kill each other.”
I ignore him and quickly wrap a sheet around me. Leaving a long expanse of sheet available, in case I need to choke him.
Diego moves into the room, filling it with a wild, tempestuous kind of energy. Like a feral cat, checking out unclaimed territory. Except this room’s been claimed. Over and over and over. Marked by our lust.
He sets the antique chair upright, takes a seat, and places his rifle across his thighs.
Jaxson ignores him as he orders room service. More food than the two of us—or make that three of us?—can eat. Then he comes around the side of the bed, wraps an arm casually around my shoulder, and pulls me down to sit on the bed next to him. “Are you here for me?”
I draw in a breath. Jesus, nothing like beating around the bush.
“No.”
“Then we have a problem.”
“You, amigo, have had a problem since the day you delivered her to the Ranch. I collected a hundred bucks off of Declan from a bet as to whether or not you’d fall in love with her.”
Jaxson pulls me into him. “I’ll pay you back.”
Diego looks around the room once more. “Maid service is going to be pissed off.”
“How long have you been in Paris?” I ask, my tone low and my voice full of gravel.
“A week.”
My forehead wrinkles into a scowl. “You’ve been tracking me for a week?”
“Two days. You’re learned well, amiga. You’re not that easy to find.”
“What now?” Jaxson interrupts.
Diego shifts in his seat, and retrieves his cell phone from his black-chino pants pocket. “We report in.”
He dials, then stands, stalks toward us, and hands me the phone.
Damn it. We—meaning me.
As the phone rings and my anxiousness grows about my impending conversation with Hayden, I feel the warmth of Jaxson’s hand on my arm. Comforting me. Making me believe everything will be hunky-dory. When Hayden is notorious for being anything but predictable.
“Kylie,” he answers on the third ring.
“You’ve been expecting my call?” I demand, glaring at Diego.
“You’ve been busy.”
My cheeks heat. Yeah, in more ways than one. I don’t respond, and in his typically intimidating style of conversing, he says nothing.
One. Two. Three.
“Novák’s dead.” It’s not a question but a statement. Did Jaxson report in without my knowing it?
“Yes. Good and dead.”
“You terminated Novák with a knife.” Jesus, the man a goddamn psychic now. How does he know this? “A knife. Truth be told, I didn’t see that one coming.”
He sounds amused.
“I finished my assignment,” I comment. I want to add, “You should be pleased.” But it’s pointless.
“Jaxson’s assignment.”
“You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to.”
“You disobeyed an order. Disobeyed orders, multiple times. You met with our direct target, allowed your enemy to snap incriminating pictures of you, casting doubt on where your loyalties lay. You evade my best mercenary, and make it out of Oklahoma by the skin of your teeth.”
“You’re punishing me for doing what you trained me to do? Evasive maneuvering, remember? Besides, I had a few things to take care of before heading abroad.” Like my sister. Like my dealing with Declan. And Franco. But that’s another story best rehashed another time.
“You didn’t leave me any choice but to come after you. I can’t have loose ends running about.”
“I’m not a traitor.”
“Yes. It wasn’t too difficult connecting the dots.”
“Francis.”
“Yes.”
“If I’d come to you to explain, I’d be dead.”
“Probably. Seems my team isn’t cut from the same cloth.”
“You didn’t expect Jaxson to kill me?”
“Of course not. The idiot loves you.”
“And Diego?”
“I figured you had a fifty-fifty chance. Though Jaxson’s turned out to be our new explosive expert.”
I snort, looking first at Diego, then at Jaxson. “Seems I need to practice my disappearing act.”
Hayden is silent on the other end. I stiffen. Better be more careful with what I say. Best not to piss the Pope off any further.
“You made an important friend in McDuff. He tells me . . . let’s see if I remember this correctly . . . ‘She was so bloody brilliant, she could steal the blessing from the holy water.’”
The Irishman. Who the hell else could McDuff be.
“You’ve got mercenaries everywhere, don’t you?”
He ignores my question. “I had hoped you’d do the predictable. Chase after Novák, with Jaxson hot on your heels.”
Jesus. “What?” I gasp.
“Not only did you lead Jaxson to his target, you completed his assignment by interrogating Novák before sinking a knife into his neck. And because of that, we have confirmation about this larger entity he’s working for. Just as I suspected. “
I relax, leaning further into Jaxson’s embrace. Damn. He sounds pleased, the manipulative jerk. “Correct. He collected money to buy weapons.”
“Mexico City?”
“That’s the only place both he and those Pricks mentioned.”
“Put Diego back on the phone.”
Are you still going to terminate me? I think, then swallow hard when I realize I blurted out my question aloud.
Diego heard me, his rifle loaded and waiting. Jaxson heard me, but not so much as a twitch of worry is coming from his big, beautiful, very naked body. Still, I’m freaking out. Who can blame me?
I’ve been running rogue for nine months. I’ve had not one, not two, but if you factor in the mysterious McDuff, that’s three mercenaries on my tail. I’ve killed my lover, then attempted to actually kill him after discovering he was alive. Not my best effort, that. I survived the Parisian lovers and the carnival of catacombs. I survived the Pricks, and the king Prick himself—Novák. I barely survived Jaxson. I just about died in bliss from our marathon makeup sex.
But will I survive Hayden?
“I have news for you.”
“Listen, I officially quit TORC. Working for you isn’t the best career path for me. Do I submit a formal letter of resignation since we have a signed contract?”
“No need. Resignation accepted.”
I exhale, a long drawn-out breath. One I’ve been holding for far too long.
“Thank you.”
“Under one condition. You understand about conditions, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes. Unforgiving man. “Yes.”
“You’ll receive an advance degree in chemistry from any university of choice.” He pauses, and I have a hard time keeping my excitement at bay. “I’ll finance your expenses, tuition, textbooks, lab expenses, whatever is needed.”
“Why would you do that?” I whisper. It’s a pretty daunting carrot he’s waving before me, after all.
“My condition is nonnegotiable. You hear me?”
I sigh. “Fine.”
“If I ever need an expert in chemistry, toxic poisons and such, you’ll be on call.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
I draw in a breath, my eyes connecting with Jaxson’s.
“I have one condition.”
“Nonnegotiable,” he grounds out.
“Jaxson won’t be your stud for hire anymore. He’s . . . off the market.”
There’s a long silence on the other end.
“Agreed,” he finally says.
“You won’t regret this.”
“I better not.”
I hand the cell to Diego. Who listens to Hayden, nods, then hands it back to me. “You didn’t wait for your news.”
“My news?”
Oh. Wasn’t him calling off the termination news enough?
“Francis is dead. An overdose, or so it appears. He’s no longer a threat to us, you, or your sister. Now you can put Diego back on.”
Shit. Oh shit. Just him mentioning Madelyn sends a jolt of fear down my spine.
“Shhh, fireball. It’s fine. Why don’t we take the next flight out of Paris and go check on her?” Jaxson murmurs.
“You heard?”
“Everything.” He nods to Diego, who’s disconnected the call. “We good?”
“Perfect.”
“You coming with us?”
“Nope. New orders. Looks like I better brush up on my Spanish.”
I snort.
Jaxson chuckles and turns to me. “Stud service?”
“Hey, I’m not complaining.”
“Dios mio. Why don’t you two get a room? If the hotel will allow it.”
The three of us burst into laughter. And for the first time in a long, long time, I’m worry-free.