Chapter Eleven
Luther Bates had stopped laughing. He was bleeding now, thanks to that whole face-into-the-table incident.
“And people think the FBI agents are the good guys,” Luther muttered. “So clueless.”
Victor raised a brow. “I’m guessing you aren’t just talking about me.” He smiled. “Gary Warren? Does that name ring a bell with you?”
Luther’s expression didn’t change.
“He confessed,” Victor told the guy. He wasn’t touching the guy now, but battle-ready tension coursed through his body. “Told me flat out that you’d hired him to take out the Ward family. Only Elizabeth wasn’t in the car that night, so she got away. Escaped your whole little payback revenge scenario, didn’t she?”
Luther glanced toward the door. “You think I’m gonna talk to you? Give you any more ammo to use against me?”
“You’re in here for the next ninety-nine years,” Victor told him with a hard laugh. “With no hope of parole. I don’t need ammo. You’re not going any place, except to hell.”
But Luther just smirked at him. “You want me to do you a favor, so don’t come talking to me about hell.” Luther leaned forward, his eyes turning to slits. “I’ve been in hell ever since they locked me up.”
“I can get you out of solitaire.” Maybe. He was totally bullshitting there. The warden hadn’t wanted to let Victor in to see Luther, and he’d already had to call in some favors just to get this one-on-one chat going.
“I like solitaire. Gives me time to think without worrying about dumb jerks being next to me.” Luther stared back at him. “So come up with some other shit.”
Dammit. “Why the hell does she even matter? You killed her mother, her father—she has nothing left! Just let her go.”
Something flickered in Luther’s eyes. He didn’t smile. In fact, his lips seemed to thin. “This is personal for you.”
He’d screwed up. Victor knew it and tried to back-track, fast. “None of the cases are personal. It’s all about doing a job.”
“There are so many dirty FBI agents these day,” Luther said with a sad shake of his head. “Why is it so hard to find one honest man?”
“I’m not dirty.” He’d never been on the take. Never would be. His father had betrayed everyone that he met. Victor had gotten tired of the guy’s broken promises long before his dad had cut out on him. And he’d sworn to never be like that SOB.
“You’ve got killers in your midst, Mr. FBI Agent. They’re right under your nose, and you don’t even know it.”
He forced his jaw to unclench “Gary Warren is—”
“A dead man,” Luther dismissed. “I don’t worry about the dead.”
Only Gary wasn’t dead. Not yet. He was locked up in Miami, in a solitaire of his own. He hadn’t talked to anyone yet, but he would. Victor would make certain of it.
“It’s the living that matter,” Luther said with a curt nod. “You understand that, don’t you?”
“Call off the hit,” he ordered. “Let Elizabeth live.”
“Personal…it’s obviously so personal.” Luther studied him with a critical eye. “Are you fucking Elizabeth Ward?”
Victor locked his back teeth. Show no emotion. “Tell me what you want.” Because he’d seen Saxon’s eyes, when Elizabeth started crying in that interrogation room. How the mighty fall. Over the years, Saxon had put his life on the line again and again for Victor. Victor knew he owed Saxon, far more than he could ever repay. But I have to try.
“I want a favor.” Luther’s gaze dropped to Victor’s ID and his FBI badge. “Not from the FBI though, because you can’t trust those traitorous bastards.” His gaze rose. “I want a favor from you. A personal favor.”
“I’m not a dirty agent—”
“You even get to play the hero. How’s that for win-win?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”
“There’s a woman who has been…taken. Her name is Zoe Peters. I need you to find Zoe, and I need you to keep her safe for me.”
What? Victor shook his head.
“When I know Zoe is alive, if there is a hit on Elizabeth Ward, then I’ll see what I can do to get it canceled.” Luther shrugged. “That is a deal that doesn’t leave this room, you understand? You find Zoe, you bring me proof of life…then that hit will be canceled.”
This was insane. “And where is this Zoe supposed to be?”
“You’re the fancy FBI agent…figure it out.” Luther lunged to his feet, sending his chair crashing behind him. Luther stalked to the door, his shackles barely seeming to slow him as he called out, “Guard, guard! I’m done here!”
But before the guard could open the door, Victor grabbed his arm. “When I find her, you swear to me that Elizabeth Ward will be safe.”
Luther nodded. “I told you, if a hit is on her, it’ll be canceled.”
The guy was so careful with his words, If. There was no if.
The guard came and took Luther away. Victor stood in that room, his hands fisted at his sides. Zoe Peters. Who the hell was Zoe Peters?
And where was she?
***
She could still feel him inside of her. Elizabeth made absolutely sure not to stumble as she followed the tour group into a large tasting room. For a second, she actually lost her breath when she entered that place. Gorgeous. There was no other word for the place. Arched stone covered the ceiling, giving the spacious room a feel almost like—like a castle. The wooden floor gleamed beneath her feet and long bars—also made of that same, gleaming wood, lined the walls of the tasting room. Wine bottles were stacked everywhere. So much wine! And gleaming chandeliers cast light down on the assembled group. There were even small candles positioned all around the room—candles that threw off a softer, more romantic light.
Saxon was up ahead. Looking perfect and polished, and totally not at all like he’d just had sex with a woman on his desk not an hour before.
He was her boss now? Her boss? And her protector? She felt as if she’d been sucked down some kind of rabbit hole. She was thrilled and terrified and she wanted all of those other people to vanish so that she could get Saxon alone again.
And maybe jump him.
“Hi, there…” The voice was close, male, deep, and had her turning her head to see a dark-haired man smiling at her. “I don’t think we met before. I’m Sloan Quest. I think you and I are scheduled to partner up on the winery’s PR team.”
Yes, yes, right. She’d heard his name mentioned when the tour began. Only she’d been trying to calm her heartbeat, steady her breathing, and not look like she’d just had wild sex.
He offered his hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethany.” His gaze swept over her, and that stare of his seemed to linger a bit too long on her breasts.
She took his hand and forced a smile. “I’m excited to be here.” Now look up.
Thankfully, he did. But she didn’t like the assessing light in his eyes. “Laurent Vineyards has the potential to be absolutely phenomenal,” Sloan said with a nod. “Michael bought the place at just the right time—the name change for the place went through without a hitch, and he’s poised to be a major force in the area.”
A major force? Two weeks ago, he’d nearly killed a man in Miami. Now he—he was completely different.
Michael Laurent was in front of the room, giving a speech about profits and expansion plans, and he was making her head ache. This couldn’t be her Saxon. Not rough and ready Saxon.
Was it?
He is so good at becoming someone else. Even his accent was slightly different as he talked to the group. Clearer, sharper. This isn’t the guy from the streets.
With an extreme effort, Elizabeth kept a polite smile on her face. “How long have you known Michael?”
“About a year,” Sloan told her.
Her jaw nearly hit the floor. It wasn’t possible that he’d known Saxon—Michael—for that long. Saxon had been undercover. He’d been working in Florida—
“Most of his business dealings were conducted via long distance because he was out of the country, but the man knew exactly what he wanted done with this place.” Sloan shrugged. “I got the impression that when there is something the man wants, he takes it. Nothing stops him.”
She tried to carefully tug her hand free of Sloan’s grip, but his fingers tightened around hers.
“I’m a lot like him,” Sloan murmured and the guy actually paused to lick his lips as his gaze swept over her once more. “When I see something…someone…I want, I take her.”
Laughter spilled from her. She just couldn’t help it. “You’re nothing like him.” If this guy tried to live Saxon’s undercover life, he wouldn’t survive the day. “And I’m not interested.” Then she yanked her hand away from Sloan. Screw playing it polite. The guy’s eyes were eating her alive.
Her gaze slid to Saxon. He’d finished talking to the group and he was staring straight at her. Or rather, at her and Sloan.
Oh, jeez. This wasn’t—
“I would like to formally introduce everyone to my right-hand lady, Bethany Meadows.” His voice seemed to flow around her. “Bethany and I have worked together for years, and I knew that I wouldn’t turn this place into the vineyard of my dreams without her.”
Surprise rocked through her at his confession.
Everyone was glancing her way now.
Vanessa, Saxon’s assistant, was staring at her, too. Only there was a sort of understanding in the other woman’s eyes, as if she’d just made a discovery. Our little romp in the office makes more sense if we’ve been lovers for a while, huh? In that moment, she could practically read Vanessa’s thoughts.
“Bethany…” Saxon beckoned to her, opening his hand.
She headed toward him. She made sure to take slow, careful steps in her heels. The last thing she wanted to do was take a header in front of all those people.
His fingers curled around hers. His lips tilted just a bit.
Once, she’d thought he was so far removed from her world. Too dangerous. But staring at him right then, the suave businessman before her…
I’m not sure I fit into his world at all.
Saxon was a man who could literally become anyone in the blink of an eye.
And if he could be anyone, then did she really know him at all?
More staff members—a group all wearing white—bustled out. They held delicate glasses and bottles of wine. Laurent Wine.
This wasn’t just some cover story. This was a whole life that Saxon had obviously planned for himself, for a long time. A life that he’d brought her into.
His hold tightened on her. “Time to celebrate,” he murmured. Then he inclined his head. “Drinks all around!”
The wine started flowing. Soon, everyone present had a glass, and Saxon still held her hand.
She glanced over at Sloan. His gaze was on her, and it was assessing. Behind him, Vanessa was smiling.
With his left hand, Saxon lifted his glass. “To the future,” he said.
Elizabeth lifted her hand and the wine glass she’d been given.
“To the future,” the others all repeated, smiling.
Elizabeth thought she was the only one who heard Saxon whisper, “May it be nothing like the fucking past.”
They drank the wine.
And the tension she felt got even worse.
***
Elizabeth was too nervous around him.
Considering the way their last meeting had gone, that nervousness wasn’t particularly surprising.
Note to self…try not to jump her the next time you’re alone.
He walked toward the windows that overlooked his sprawling property and his gaze assessed the countryside in front of him. This place was so damn fantastic.
I won’t ever be in the streets again. This place will be my paradise. I’ll be safe here. Elizabeth will be safe here.
It was a fresh start, for them both.
His phone rang. He pulled it out and recognized the number on the screen. He was alone in his office, so Saxon knew it was safe to take the call. “Tell me she’s clear,” he said.
“Working on it,” Victor replied, voice grim. “I need a little more time.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The door to his office was still shut. “You talked to Luther.”
As far as Saxon was concerned, it would be easier to just kill Luther Bates and move the hell on, but Victor hadn’t been sure the hit on Elizabeth would actually be canceled by the guy’s death. Not if the money for the job was being held in an account someplace.
“He’s offered me a deal. I just need a little more time, and your lady will be cleared.”
Your lady. Yes, Saxon thought of Elizabeth as his now. Was that wrong? He’d bled for her, been ready to kill for her…and, after all the dark years he’d spent undercover, didn’t he deserve a chance to have something? Someone? Elizabeth stirred emotion to life within him. She made him wonder what it would be like to have a wife, a partner in life. He wasn’t going to just let some bastard destroy her. “I think we should have gone with my method.”
“You can’t just walk into a federal prison and kill a man!”
Saxon sighed. “Didn’t Luther just kill a man in there? Some unlucky bastard named Titus Rowe?” He’d read about that, when he’d been digging into Luther’s life and trying to find anything that they could use against the guy in order to force him to back away from Elizabeth and cancel that hit.
“He killed him, and I think I know why.” Victor’s words came a bit faster. “There’s a woman missing, her name is Zoe Peters, and, from what I can tell, she vanished the day before Luther took the shiv to Titus Rowe’s throat.”
His fingers tightened around the phone.
“Luther said if I find the woman, if I bring him proof of life, then he’ll call off the hit on Elizabeth.”
“And you believe him?” Saxon was calling BS. “Vic, you can’t trust a guy like him. You know that.”
“I know I don’t have a lot of options, and I know that I am doing this. You’ve been through hell for me over the years. Now it’s my turn to pay you back.”
Victor didn’t get it. Saxon had done all of that undercover work because Vic was family—a link that went deeper than blood ever could. He’d wanted to protect his family. “If you need me, I’m there.”
“No.” Vic’s denial was immediate. “You’re out, you’re safe with that shiny new life of yours. A life that includes Elizabeth now. Keep her safe, and I’ll cover this end.” Static crackled over the line. “I will find Zoe Peters.”
Saxon knew that Victor tried to never make a promise that he couldn’t keep.
The line went dead. For a moment, Saxon didn’t move. He stared out at the land before him. The sun was setting, the sky a mix of red and gold. The scene looked like something out of a fancy painting.
And it’s all mine.
He’d saved every penny over the years and sank a fortune into this place. That fortune had come to him the hard way. He hadn’t just worked for the FBI in the last fifteen years. He’d risked his life more times than he could count, and when you were dealing in life or death situations, the pay-out could be serious. So he’d taken that pay-out, then doubled, tripled his money during his days in Vegas. And when the vineyard had come open, when he’d realized what he could do with a little winery out here…
A slice of heaven, after hell.
He’d wanted this place for so long.
Saxon turned and strode for the door.
But now he actually wanted something—someone else—more.
When he opened the door, he saw that Vanessa was collecting her bag and preparing to leave for the day. She paused when she saw him.
“Mr. Laurent?”
Another fake name. Maybe one day, he’d get used to it. “I’m looking for Ms. Meadows,” he said.
Vanessa’s eyes widened and she smiled a little. “She’s in the tasting room.”
He immediately turned toward the left. “Thank you.”
“I, um, didn’t realize that the two of you were…an item.”
Saxon stilled.
“Oh, gosh, that was too personal, wasn’t it?” Vanessa blurted. “I crossed a line, I’m so sorry. Sometimes, I just don’t think before I—”
He glanced back at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” We’re definitely an item.
Her tremulous smile came again. “Th-thank you.”
After giving her a little nod, he strode down the hallway. He hadn’t confirmed or denied that he was involved with Elizabeth. He was trying to play the gentleman for her, and yelling to everyone that they were lovers—well, that probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly move ever.
And it had sure as shit been hard to keep up that gentlemanly front when Sloan Quest had been edging so close to Elizabeth. Sure, the guy knew PR and he was an expert when it came to the wine business, but Saxon had wanted to shove the man across the room.
Saxon reached the tasting room. He paused a moment and took in a deep breath. Don’t jump the woman. Keep some control.
He pushed open the door.
Wood gleamed all around the tasting room. Heavy, tall wine racks. Small, sputtering candles set the scene. He’d ordered those candles, earlier, when he’d wanted to toast with his new staff.
Staff. I have fucking staff now.
Elizabeth was at the bar. She turned toward him.
I have everything now.
He stared at her a moment, lost in the sight of her. Did she even know all the strings Victor had pulled so that Elizabeth wound up there—with me?
Everything had been set up, everything manipulated so that he could be with her. To protect her, hell, yes. But…more.
“M-Michael?”
His new name. One that he didn’t want to hear from her. He shook his head and very deliberately shut the door behind him. “It’s just us.”
Her back pressed to the bar. His gaze swept over her, from those sexy shoes up to the silken expanse of her legs, then up, up to the curving breasts that thrust toward him. His gaze finally settled on her face.
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And if she knew all the things he’d done, she’d probably run screaming from him.
I can’t ever let that happen.
He took a step toward her. “When we’re alone, call me Saxon.” Because he liked the way his name sounded when it came from her.
He took another step toward her.
Elizabeth seemed to tense. “What if someone comes in?”
“Then I might fucking fire them.” Because he needed to get his hands on her. She had no clue how bad the last two weeks had been for him. The doctors hadn’t cleared him to travel at first—he’d had to wait and stay away from her for too long.
“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth whispered, shaking her head.
Oh, but he would.
He stopped when he was right in front of her. His hand lifted and brushed back the locks of her hair that had slipped over her cheek, then his fingers slid under that soft curtain of her mane as he tilted her head back. “I need a taste…”
Not of wine. Of her.
Her lips parted and his mouth closed over hers. This kiss wasn’t frantic. Wasn’t wild. Because he was trying to show her that he could be more. So much more. For her.
He licked her lower lip, then his tongue thrust inside of her mouth. She gave that little moan—yes—and she arched toward him.
But he still kept the kiss controlled. Sensual, but not desperate. He savored her. He caressed her. Even when his erect cock shoved at the front of his pants, his hold on her was light—just his hand, holding her through the curtain of her hair.
He kissed her. He licked.
And he wanted so much more.
That was why he finally stopped. His head lifted so that he could gaze down at her.
Elizabeth’s eyes blinked open.
“You taste better than the wine.”
Her tongue slipped out and swept over her lips. “So do you.”
She did not play fair.
“Let me take you home,” he said. Because if he didn’t. He just might wind up fucking her there. Right in that shiny new tasting room. He’d had the place remodeled when he took over, and it had turned out just as he’d hoped.
I can have everything I want now. Provided, that Elizabeth stayed safe.
Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you offering to take me home…as my lover? Or as my FBI guard?”
“I’m doing it as both.” Because that was what he was. Guard and lover.
“We’re safe here,” she said. It almost sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of that. “In this perfect place you’ve made, we’re safe, right?”
“With me, I promise, you’ll always be safe.”
Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I believe that, you know.”
Because she trusted him so completely.
“But you can’t take me home, I came in my own car.” Her smile stretched and tempted him to smile back at her.
So he did. “In that case, I’ll follow you.”
She nodded.
I’ll follow you any damn place.
***
Victor strode out of the prison. As soon as she saw him, Tracy hurried forward. “Sir?” Tracy called. “How did it go?”
She’d been cleared—after the FBI had ripped her life apart. They hadn’t turned up any sign that she’d been working with Gary. No bank transactions, no unaccounted absences, no whispers of impropriety at all.
But we thought Gary was clear, too.
Victor’s bosses had insisted he put Tracy back in circulation, provided, of course, that he kept one very close eye on her.
“It’s going,” he said simply. He didn’t want to tell her about Zoe Peters. He wasn’t going to tell anyone but Saxon about that woman. Because Saxon is the only one that I trust one hundred percent.
“A call came in while you were inside,” Tracy told him, the words a little breathless, as if she were nervous. “Gary Warren wants to talk with you.”
Wait, now the guy wanted to talk? Before Victor had left Miami, the guy had still been giving the old silent treatment to everyone. How was that for shit timing?
“So we’re going back down to Florida now?” Tracy asked.
“Not yet.” He marched toward their car. Tracy hurried to keep up with him. “Gary can damn well wait for me.”
“But—”
“I have other business to tend to first.”
He climbed into the car. Tracy started to follow him. “No,” he said flatly. “I called you a cab.”
Her body stiffened. “We’re working together—”
“Not right now, we’re not.” So much for what his bosses wanted. He had to complete this job on his own. For Saxon. “Go back down to Miami. I’ll be there soon enough.” He slammed his door, but Tracy jerked it right back open.
“You don’t trust me!”
He stared up at her.
“I freaking bled for the FBI to prove that I was legit. I told you every secret I had. No matter how humiliating. I told you everything!”
“We don’t get to have secrets in the FBI. That’s not a luxury we have—”
“Liar!” She snapped. “You have your secrets. You’ve going off on one of those secret missions right now.” Her breath heaved out. “Maybe there is a traitor in the FBI. Maybe I’m looking right at him.”
Her sharp words propelled him right out of the car as he faced off against her.
She backed up.
He advanced. “You don’t want to push me, Tracy.”
He heard the rasp of her breath.
“You really fucking don’t.” Lights flashed, and he turned to see the ordered taxi arriving. “Get in the taxi, then get on a plane and head back to Miami. If Gary is in the mood to talk, you make sure he stays that way, got it?”
“Got it,” she gritted out.
He nodded, then got back in the car. For a minute there, he’d seen red. He’d never been accused of being a traitor before, and Victor sure didn’t like it.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Tracy murmured.
He paused, with his hand on the car door.
“When people close to you don’t trust you anymore.”
His gaze sharpened on her.
“See you in Miami,” she muttered.
He slammed the door. Drove away a little too fast.
And didn’t look back.
***
Tracy Adams watched Victor’s tail-lights vanish. That jerk was cutting her out of the case. He didn’t trust her. Sure, she had supposedly been cleared by the FBI, but if her direct supervisor was keeping case secrets from her…
Then no one at the Bureau will ever really trust me again.
She’d find herself demoted. Cut out of all the good cases. Cast aside.
That couldn’t happen.
“Hey, lady!” The taxi driver shouted. “Did you call for a ride?”
Ignoring him, Tracy turned back toward the prison. Victor and his secrets…she was about to discover them. Because she would not lose everything that she’d worked so hard to gain all these years.
No way.
“Lady!” The taxi driver tried once more.
“Screw off,” she tossed back.