6 weeks later

Hard to fucking concentrate. It was hot as motherfucking Hades in Rayong, Thailand and all Mack could see was a pair of gorgeous melted caramel eyes every time he tried to do his job. Those eyes, that perfectly curved body, the woman. She was like a ghost that hadn’t left him in four long months. It didn’t make any damn sense. The harder he tried to shake her, the more entrenched she became.

He’d done the right thing. He’d walked away from her. The woman was too young, the sister of his business partner, Jane. His crazy-ass married-to-the-mob business partner. He’d done the right thing by leaving Lucy Miller in her happy, innocent little world, with her puppy-like fiancé who would probably worship the ground she walked on for the rest of his life.

Then why the fuck couldn’t he get her out of his head?

He knew better than to let his thoughts dwell for too long on any single woman. He was letting his cock do the thinking. Hadn’t he learned this hard lesson with his cheating bitch of an ex-wife? After she left him more than ten years ago, he’d gone to a dark place, taking risks with his life on a regular basis. For years, his life had consisted of drinking, shooting and chasing bond jumpers. Mack had always been reckless, but after Daniella destroyed what little peace he’d found in life, she also took the remnants of his humanity. Mack lost himself in the bottle for years, until the births of his niece and nephew along with healing time started to pull him back out of the darkness. An innocent like Lucy would’ve been horrified if she’d met that Mack. Hell, she was terrified of the Mack she’d met a few months ago, probably never wanted to see him again.

Even the beautiful and treacherous Daniella hadn’t held his thoughts or attention for this damn long. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Was Thailand getting to him? He hated this damn country. It was hot and humid as fuck. The few people that cared about him didn’t even know he was here. If his client double-crossed him, he could die in this shit-hole and no one would know – not his partner, not his sister, Tawny.

Mack checked his watch and frowned. Thoughts of Lucy had distracted him enough. He forcibly shoved the beautiful, young Amish girl from his head, rolled onto his side and propped his rifle up on the notch he set up. He was on the fourth floor of a building across the street from an upscale apartment complex. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, tickling him before soaking into the back of his T-shirt. He ignored the annoyance as he made slight adjustments to his scope, training his weapon on the sidewalk across the street where the politician’s car would pull up within the next half hour.

Emptying his brain of everything but the kill, Mack did what he did best. He waited. And he hunted.

He was glad this job was almost done. He needed to get home. Check in with his partner, see how business was going. The bounties would be piling up. These side jobs were fun and lucrative. Kept him sharp, but he needed to finish up and get his ass back on the home front. Make sure his sister was keeping out of trouble. And, if he were being completely honest, see if Lucy Miller was finally in the city. He was ready to admit he’d failed at keeping her out of his thoughts. He needed to see her again. See if reality lived up to the memory. He suspected reality was going to be worse. Because this time he wasn’t going to let her go. Now that she was on his turf, she wouldn’t be leaving to run back to her safe little life with her safe little boyfriend. And this was probably going to cause problems with the Russians, seeing as how she was protected by them.

The mark chose that moment to appear, cautiously stepping from his building onto the sidewalk. Mack didn’t hesitate. The moment the guy’s head was in his sights, he pulled the trigger. As the man went down in a spray of blood, a boom echoed off the surrounding buildings. Mack rolled onto his back, his nimble fingers automatically pulling apart the pieces of his rifle.

His brain drifted from this kill onto other, prettier prey. She’d been in his sights from the moment he set eyes on her. Like her older sister, yet softer, less resilient. He’d thought about letting her go. Letting her run. But that was the problem with the hunter inside him. He loved the chase too much. As soon as she tried to run, she’d become his.

Fuck the Russians. Mack had been had been laughing in the face of death for years, he was up to the challenge.

* * *

“Hmmm…” Lucy thought out loud surveying the scene in her tiny kitchen, hands on hips. Fresh-baked muffins, check. Pretty, homey-looking rugs covering every scarred surface of the floor, check. Inviting looking bed in the corner, check. She was all set for Mack to show up “out of the blue” and check on Jane’s apartment.

Jane had warned her that Mack Hudson would likely stop by that evening when he noticed someone living up there. Apparently, he was dropping some work stuff off for Jane in the office below the tiny apartment and he had a key. Lucy had rushed home to set her plan in motion. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and hoped that if she lured him in with baking and a few other tricks, she’d be able to get him to kiss her again.

That kiss had occupied her thoughts long enough. She needed a do-over to see if her memory was playing tricks on her or if Mack Hudson was everything she thought he was. At the time, he’d told her he was teaching her a lesson about sneaking around in shadows with boys because he’d caught her kissing Matthew. Then he’d told her he would teach her what it was like to be kissed by a man. Boy, did he ever! She hadn’t thought about much else since.

Now she wanted more of those kisses. Because Matthew’s arms and lips hadn’t been even close to satisfying since she’d experienced the hard rush that Mack had thrown at her. She closed her eyes and ran her hands down her body with a sigh. Nothing had come even close to what Mack had done to her that day. Did he even know how badly he rocked her world? Had she done the same for him?

Lucy picked up a strand of her long, light brown hair and sniffed it. Did she need a shower? She’d been scrubbing her apartment and baking all day. She didn’t really want Mack kissing on her if she smelled bad.

“Oh gosh, when will he be here?” she asked out loud, her eyes popping open in sudden panic. She began stripping off clothes as she ran for the bathroom.

She scooped up her iPhone because she’d very rapidly learned how useful that device was in this modern world, and rarely showered without it. As she adjusted the temperature settings on her temperamental shower, she shot a quick text off to the super sweet Russian bodyguard that stayed outside her apartment to watch the building and asked him to let her know when Mackenzie Hudson showed up. Oddly he didn’t text right back. She hopped into the shower, a favourite Amish song on her lips as she scrubbed her hair.

She didn’t hear the front door open, nor did she hear the big bounty hunter approach her small washroom as she showered. Despite her naïve attempts at seduction, she hadn’t planned on his seeing her naked as the day she was born pretty much the moment they were reunited. Yet, that was exactly what happened. Lucy set her phone on the back of the toilet lid, shut the shower off, shoved the shower curtain back and came face to face with a huge, grim, surprised Mack Hudson. Her mouth fell open for about a second and a half before her shocked brain caught up with her mouth and she started screaming bloody murder.

Suddenly she found herself grabbed by the arm and pulled from the tub, then shaken until her screams stopped.

“Lucy,” he growled. “It’s me, Mack Hudson. Your sister’s partner. Open your damn eyes and look at me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He shoved a towel into her hands and she clutched at it blindly while cowering against him for a moment before opening one eye to peek at him. She slowly wound the towel around herself while looking up at him. She found herself staring up into a pair of seriously annoyed bloodshot blue eyes. Gorgeous, beautiful, swoon-worthy blue, blue eyes! Her sopping wet hair was hanging in wild strands down her back. The way his big, rough hands held her against him, steadying and calming her at the same time. Now this had the makings of a seriously romantic moment. If only she could stop her teeth from chattering from the cold.

“M-Mack?” she breathed his name, her wide eyes finally taking in the huge body that filled her tiny bathroom.

He sighed heavily and tried to step back from her. She began to sway, suggesting her body was giving way to the rush of adrenaline and shock from finding him in her washroom. She reached out for him again, gripping his shirt weakly. She fluttered her eyelashes, hoping she was giving the correct combination of helpless and “kiss me.” Then a wave of dizziness actually swept over her from blinking too much and she was forced to stop. Darn, this was not at all going how she’d planned.

She licked her lips and lifted her eyes to his, hoping he was picturing that kiss. “Wh… what are you doing in here Mack?” she asked huskily.

He moved so suddenly she found herself getting dizzy again as he pulled them both out of the washroom and into her kitchen. Well that was a good space to be in! They could smell the blueberry muffins in there. She’d always heard that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Although, at present, she was undecided about whether she wanted Mack’s heart. She mostly just wanted his lips, his muscular chest and… oh, she definitely wanted to run her fingers through his spiky blond hair.

He watched, seemingly intent on her mouth, before answering. “I saw the light up here, thought someone broke in. You didn’t lock the door.”

Her eyes widened for a moment. “Oops,” she said guiltily. “Sometimes I forget. We never locked the door back home. Vlad would murder me if he knew I forgot something like that.”

Mack raised an eyebrow and snorted. She assumed it was because her brother-in-law was a mobster and presumably killed people once in a while in his line of work. But so far Vlad seemed like a very nice mobster and she assumed he only killed the people that really deserved it.

“You didn’t set the alarm either,” he pointed out gruffly.

She grimaced and shrugged. “Uh… forgot?”

His frown grew even more fierce. “Why the fuck are the Sitnikovs letting you live in this shithole? You clearly can’t take care of yourself. I could’ve raped and killed you just now and been out before anyone knew a thing.”

She gasped and stood up straighter, pushing her full chest out against the towel. “I can so take care of myself,” she snapped. “Just because I forgot my door this once doesn’t make me a blithering idiot. And I have a bodyguard! He just… he’s just… well I’m not sure where he is actually.”

She felt a small slice of concern and went to the window to peek out into the darkness. Her towel flirted with the edge of her bottom as she looked for her supposed bodyguard and she tugged at it with her hand. What if something had happened to him? She suspected the whole Russian mob thing was dangerous business. Perhaps she should be protecting her bodyguard, not the other way around. Maybe she should invite him to stay inside with her where it was safer.

“You don't think anything happened to him?” she asked, worried, glancing back over her shoulder to get Mack’s opinion.

Mack shook his head in disgust and shoved a hand over his head, spiking back his short blond hair. He ran a hand over the blond stubble on his cheeks. “I’ll look into it.”

“Okay,” she said softly, turning around to look at him. She crossed her arms in front of her realizing exactly how little she was wearing. He shifted, crossing his arms over his broad chest and spreading his legs apart. His heavy combat boots looked huge on the delicate woven rugs. He wore a pair of faded jeans with a tear in one knee and an old grey T-shirt that moulded to his chest.

“Why are you staying here?” he demanded after they surveyed each other for a minute. “No offence, but I don't see good ol’ Vladimir letting you out of his sight. He’s a controlling fuck, pardon my language, and you are an innocent in a lion’s den in a city like this. Seems a weird choice to let you live on your own in this area.”

She smiled a little, flashing him some teeth. “He didn't have a choice,” Lucy explained softly. “Rumspringa is about choice and experience. Amish youth are meant to go out and experience independence, which I can’t do under the constant supervision of my indulgent brother-in-law. With Jane’s extremely convincing arguments, and threat to move out with me, he helped set me up here with a security system and a round the clock bodyguard.”

“Both of which failed,” Mack growled in annoyance.

“Yes… well,” she replied, glancing toward the window.

A movement on her bed drew her gaze. Then she saw the exact last thing she expected would be in her apartment when she’d been hoping Mack would invite himself in. A stripy gray hell beast was curled up on her bed licking itself while gazing malevolently at her with its vicious gleaming eyes. She had zero choice but to scream bloody murder and launch herself at Mack.

And like the hero he was, Mack grabbed her right up off the floor, pulled his gun and pointed it at the horrific animal while she whimpered in his arms.

“Get it away from me!” she shrieked, clenching her fingers against his rock-hard abs. She stroked them a little just to make sure. Yes, they were very hard.

His fingers brushed against her bare bottom and he groaned out loud while juggling both her and the gun. He frowned down at her. “The cat isn’t yours?”

“No!” she cried in terror, hiding her face in his chest so she wouldn’t have to look at the awful creature. “I hate cats! The way they move… the way they look at you… ugh… oh, oh, is it coming over here!?”

She peeked over her shoulder when she heard the springs on the mattress shift. The cat was indeed standing on the bed and stretching. It jumped off the bed and started to wander toward them. Lucy screamed again and began climbing Mack trying to get to higher ground. She knew cats had claws, maybe this one would try to climb him too!

Mack chuckled in her ear and cupped her bare bottom in one large hand while she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him like a vine. Her wide, terrified eyes were glued to the furry beast that dared to intrude on her space and her breath constricted as her heart tried to claw its way out of her chest.

“Easy, darling,” Mack breathed in her ear, taking four long strides to the bed and easing her down. “It must have followed me in.”

“Take. It. Away!” she gasped, nearly hyperventilating while she scrambled away from the edge in case the cat decided to turn around and come back at her.

Mack scooped up the cat and stepped away from the bed, valiantly protecting her from the giant creature that had started happy growling in his arms. He headed for the door with the offensive beast then turned to look back. “Lucy.” He waited for her to look at him. She shuddered, her eyes glued to the cat. “Lock the fucking door, or I’ll make a call to Sitnikov.”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, Mack. Anything you want.”

She licked her lips and ignoring the cat, looked imploringly into his eyes. She tried to tell him without words that he was more than welcome to come back and kiss her once he disposed of his burden. He grunted, clutched the hell beast to his chest and left.

Well that hadn’t gone how she was hoping at all. Lucy shuddered when she thought about the vile demon contaminating her bed, clutched her towel around her chest and slid off the bed to get a muffin.