“A two-story view of the bay? You’re not using your credit card for this suite, are you? My dad could definitely track us that way.” She spins away from the window and faces me, her hands landing on her hips, sunlight pouring in behind her, making her look like an angel or something.

“This might be my first time on the run, but I’m not an idiot.” I tuck my hands in my pockets, continuing to study her, unable to stop myself from wondering how she’d look with the sun splashing over her naked body.

“What are you thinking about?” Her dark brows arch as she angles her head, observing me—maybe even reading my mind.

“Just hungry.” Damned if I couldn’t hide the deep huskiness of my voice when I said that.

“Me too, but do we have to eat in the room? Can we grab a bite at a restaurant in the hotel?” Her face lights a bit as she smiles. “I saw they have a rooftop bistro. I bet the views are even better than they are here.”

“That’s only one more level up.”

“True.” She faces the windows again. “But it’d be nice to eat outside and get some fresh air. Miami reminds me of home.”

I join her by the window. “Owen checked out the hotel and said we should be good.” We already updated Gia on the status of Rory’s men on the ride here. And for the rest of the trip, Owen regaled us with his “stories of adventure,” as Gia likes to call them.

She sighs and glances upstairs to where Owen’s room is. The water is running, so he’s probably in the shower. We’re all staying together this time since there are three rooms.

“Thank you. And I think I know what we should do after dinner tonight,” she says almost casually, despite the depth of thought in her eyes. Her tongue peeks out of her mouth like a delicious tease, and she rolls it over her lips.

“Gia,” I drag out her name.

“What? I was talking about fighting. Maybe we could kill some of our stress and tension by sparring. You could show me some moves. Teach me.”

“You want to spar with me?” I ask in surprise. She had brought it up the other day, but I didn’t think she was serious.

“I really do want to learn to protect myself. Don’t go getting any dirty ideas.”

Too late for that. The muscles in my torso tighten as I imagine her sweaty and pinned beneath me.

“How about I protect you so you never need to throw a punch?” I suggest.

“You won’t be around forever.”

She’s right, even if I don’t want to admit it. “Fine.” I hate surrendering. “You should be able to defend yourself when I’m gone.”

Triumph spreads across her face, and I rake my fingers through my hair. I need to knock this damn desire free from my body that’s taken hold since the day we met.

How many days now has it been since I’ve fucked?

Too. Damn. Many.

And having someone like Gia around me all of the time is like asking an alcoholic to hold a shot of whiskey.

She’s become my top-shelf brand, and I want to do a hell of a lot more than simply taste her. I want to—

“Thank you,” she says in a soft voice.

I nod. “Sure.” I start in the direction of my bedroom. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour, and we’ll head to dinner.”

“Cade?” At the sexy sound of my name on her tongue, I stop before my door. Why does she also have to have such a hot accent? And when she gets angry, it becomes more noticeable—and God, it goes right under my skin in an I-want-to-screw-you-until-the-sun-comes-up kind of way.

“What?”

“Everything will be okay, won’t it?”

She’s asking for reassurance. She’s asking for me to make her feel better. But right now, all I feel like is one more asshole in her life. Because I want to fuck her, regardless of what the hell is going on right now. And what kind of person does that make me?

A person like Rory.

Like my father?

“Yeah, everything will be okay,” I lie.

---

“Do you really think we can trust her?”

The server lifts my empty plate from the table, and I wait until she’s gone before answering. “Of course,” I say, because I don’t want him worrying about my own doubts or the weird conversation she was supposedly having with herself this morning.

“She’s the daughter of an assassin. Not just any killer, either. I looked the guy up. He was a beast when he was Irish Special Forces. I can only imagine how lethal he is now, without limitations. How is she not dirty, too?”

“Why the hell are you just now asking me this? You didn’t seem to have any issue when you were getting her drunk last night.”

Owen takes a swig of his soda. “And why do you think I was really liquoring her up? I was trying to get a read on her and see if she’d talk.”

I lean back in the chair and look over at Gia, who is resting by the pool. No one is swimming right now since the sun isn’t out and the temperature has dropped. Gia looks both classy and sexy in her sleeveless black top. Plus, the ass-hugging jeans are a bonus.

“And did you learn anything?”

“Yeah, that she’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I finally look away from her and back at him.

He nods and sets his drink down. “Yeah, she could get you killed.”

“Well, no shit. That’s why I hired you guys.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. She’s a distraction for you. I’ve seen what women like her do to men. She’s making you weak.”

A slow anger creeps through me at his comment. I don’t view myself as weak. Not even a little.

I squeeze the back of my neck, working at the tension—realizing that maybe he’s right on one count. I’ve been off my game since I met Gia.

“You ought to be tucked away somewhere safe, while Jess and our team troubleshoot this problem.”

He knows full well that won’t happen, so I don’t bother to answer. He might have been a SEAL, but I’m not some timid guy in a suit. I can handle my own.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t only hired to keep Gia safe,” he adds.

“And what bullshit instructions did Jessica give you?” I finish off my tumbler of whiskey, relishing the warmth as it burns its way down to my stomach.

I look over at the metal sculptured palm trees that surround the pool that still have Christmas lights wrapped around the fake leaves.

Then my view darts to Gia.

And she’s heading our way.

Jessica didn’t pack her any heels. Why would she? So, Gia hit up a nearby store before we came to dinner. She picked out a ridiculously tall pair. When she was modeling them, asking for my opinion, I swear she was purposely trying to get me to pull her into my arms right then and there.

She’s testing my limits. My patience.

But she was raised in the shadows of mob bosses. Maybe she can handle someone like me. Maybe I’m not giving her enough credit. She might be young, but she’s probably experienced.

“Jess said I’d better bring your ass back alive. It’s a top priority.”

“I don’t need you to worry about me,” I grit out and direct my attention back his way.

He raises both palms in the air and smiles. “Jess and your sister are best friends. What the hell did you expect?”

“But I hired you guys to protect—”

“Hi, Gia,” Owen cuts me off.

“I think I’m ready to go back to the room.” She braces a hand on the back of the chair she occupied during dinner and waits for one of us to respond, but I know what she wants—and I’m not sure if it’s the best idea.

Her eyes land on mine. I’m fucked.

I’ll be rotting in hell for this. My corpse has a predesignated spot, anyway. Bought and paid for.

“Maybe you should stay here and relax,” Gia says in a rush after Owen stands.

His brows dart inward. “Not what I’m here to do.”

“Well, I’m going to teach her some self-defense moves,” I say.

Owen claps his hands and rubs them together. “Great idea. I’d be happy to help.”

“I think I’d rather it just be the two of us if you don’t mind.” Her lip lands between her teeth, and she waits for Owen to respond.

He looks at me, his eyes darkening. “You have an hour.”

“Great. Thanks,” she says once Owen sits back down.

“You sure you want to do this?” I ask once we’ve made our way to the elevator and begin the quick descent to our floor.

“I have to start sometime. The sooner the better.” Her shoulder brushes against my arm, but I check my desire to look at her, knowing all I’ll be able to do is envision what she’d look like up against the mirrored wall with my body pressed tight to hers and my mouth at the crook of her neck.

Once we make it to our room, I instruct, “Meet me in the living room in five.”

“Okay.”

“Did Jessica pack you anything comfortable?”

“Yeah, even a sports bra.”

I blow out an uncomfortable breath.

I go and change a minute later. Sweats and a tee this time. I don’t need her warm hands on my skin when I need to keep my cock in check.

I shove the couch out of the way and catch sight of her padding toward me in bare feet, with tight black yoga pants and a white tank top that dips way too low.

“Gia,” I say her name with a gruff voice as desire claws at me from the inside.

She holds her hands palms up and shrugs. “This is all I had.”

“Sure.” I flick my wrist for her to come closer, which, in my mind, is still a really bad idea.

“So, teach me.” She sweeps her long hair up into a ponytail and smiles.

She seems different tonight. Looser. Less on edge. Maybe being so far away from Rory and her father has made her feel like she can breathe.

But we’re not out of the woods yet.

“The first rule of self-defense is to try and avoid ever being in a fight.”

She chuckles. “Wow. Shocker.”

I roll my eyes and motion for her to turn around. “Press your back to me.”

She follows the command, and I try to remain focused on what I’m supposed to be doing right now.

“Always know your exits and your way out, and try to stay away from any enemy, so he or she can never get their arms around you.” I swallow and step closer. “But, if they put you in a bear hug,” I say while pulling her tight against me, “you want to lower your center of gravity and drop down as much as you can, squirming to make it harder for them to keep a hold on you.”

I get a whiff of her shampoo. It’s the same one I used, but on her, it smells like wild orchids and the expensive kind of champagne you break out for New Year’s Eve.

“Should I try it?”

“Go for it.”

She starts to struggle, her ass moving from side to side, rubbing against me, and I’m impressed that I manage to keep from swearing at her movements. “You’ve got to become dead weight,” I instruct.

“Okay.”

“That’s it.” She’s slipping from my grasp. “Stand up straight again, and I’m going to squeeze tighter this time. I want you to step on my foot first, then drop down.”

She strains her neck to look over her shoulder at me, her brows pinched together. Her mouth too fucking close. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I laugh. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

She nods and faces forward. “Okay.” She then makes her best effort to hurt me, and after ten more minutes, she nails the move. And I’ve managed to keep my erection at bay.

It only took thoughts of my asshole father to keep me like that, but hey—a win is a win.

She faces me, her cheeks red, her eyes sparkling. Her hands rub together, and she smiles. “I like this. It makes me feel powerful.”

She really has no idea how much power she does wield.

“We’ll try the choke hold now.” We get into position and go through the moves several times. “Remember, you only have three to eight seconds before you start to lose oxygen.”

She scowls. “Unfortunately, the memory of that is recent.”

When I saw Rory’s hands wrapped around her throat the other night, I wanted to snap his neck then and there. I’ve never wanted to hurt another person so much in all my life. I maintained my control then, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have just killed the son of a bitch.

Could Jerry keep me out of jail for murder? Probably not.

I shut out the possible thoughts of Jerry being dirty because it’ll fucking sour my mood. And I’ve got to admit I’m enjoying myself right now, which I didn’t think would be possible.

It was torturous at first to be so close to her. But I like seeing how much this means to her, and how excited she gets every time she masters a move.

Having that cloud of gray lifted from her might be worth the throb in my balls from the lack of orgasm.

“Put your back against that wall.” I gesture to the other side of the room. “We should work on the move Rory used against you, but are you sure you really want to?”

“Yes.” She nods, but there’s a change in her eyes once she’s in position. Her breathing has increased, her chest rising and falling more than before.

I brace the wall instead of touching her neck, my hands positioned over her shoulders.

I don’t know if I can re-create the scene when that asshole wrapped his hands around her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Her hand rests on my flexed bicep, and I close my eyes.

“Maybe we’ll save this move for another day.” I’m about to push away from the wall, but at the feel of her other hand on my chest and over my heart, I keep my palms in place.

“Why don’t you kiss me instead?”

I lower my head until it’s touching her forehead. “Gia.” How many times can I utter her name like a warning before I lose my resolve?

“Aren’t we at least going to talk about last night?”

I back up a few steps to add some distance between us. Her hands fall to her sides, disappointment on her face, mirroring one of the women in her sketchbook—something she risked her neck to save.

That’s something we still haven’t talked about. But we’re both fairly good at avoiding the heavy stuff.

“I want you.” They’re the three words I had wanted to hear the night we’d met at the bar, and now, they’re three words I need to forget she just said.

“No, you don’t.” I drag a hand down my face and pinch the skin at the base of my throat as I contemplate how to get her off this idea of there ever being an us.

“Why not?” She folds her arms across her chest, which only further accentuates her breasts. “Is this because I’m a virgin?”

Fuck. Me.

A rock—no, a goddamn boulder drops into my stomach, and it sends shock waves throughout every nerve cell in my body.

“You must have known, right? At least suspected. I mean, I’ve barely done anything with anyone. With my father being the way he is, and Rory wanting me . . . no one was allowed near me.” She attempts to close the gap between us, but I lift my hands up in the air like she’s dangerous—like Owen is right about her.

The thought of her being a virgin never crossed my mind. And now I’m wondering how I could have been so stupid.

“Gia, you should go shower and get some rest.” I can’t even entertain finishing this conversation right now.

“Cade, I want my first time to be with you.”

I turn my back to her.

“We barely know each other, but I’m finally free—who knows for how long. I want to experience life.” Emotion floods her voice. An entire ocean of pain swallows her words. “I want you.” Her hand is on my back, but I don’t move yet.

“I can’t be your first. What you’re asking for shouldn’t ever happen.” I shake my head. “You deserve your first time to be with someone who gives a damn.”

“You’re lying. I know you care. You wouldn’t be here with me right now if you didn’t.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I curse beneath my breath, turn and face her, my body rock-hard, my want for her obvious. But I’ll carve the word no into my chest if it’ll convince her to back down. “I’m not good for you.”

She steps in as if challenging me and lifts her chin, her eyes defiant. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

I don’t say anything, and my silence encourages her to continue.

“I’ve read a lot of books. It was my only escape, and so I’ve learned how to do things.”

“Things?” I grin, and my sudden amused state pisses her off, because she’s scowling, folding her arms now like a kid who’s not allowed on her favorite amusement ride. And God, would I love her to ride me.

“Jesus, Gia. What the hell are you talking about? I’m not some character in a book.” I scratch at my jaw. “And besides, I’m much more original than whatever bedtime stories keep you up at night.”

Her eyes draw together, sharp and focused on me. “That’s a low blow.” Her shoulders start to sag, registering defeat. “I guess I am too young for you.”

She shifts away, but without thinking, I grab her wrist and spin her back around, unable to stop myself.

Her hands land on my chest, and neither of us speaks for a minute. I’m trying to come up with another excuse to talk myself off this cliff.

I want to say fuck it and fly.

Her mouth tightens. “What if you were my second?”

I blink. “Second?”

“Yeah. I can go find someone else, and then—”

“No,” I say, effectively ending the discussion. My brows lower as I brush her cheek with the back of my hand. “Tell me why you want me to be your first.” I’m giving in. I can feel it.

She closes her eyes and lifts her chin, offering me better access to her lips. My balls tighten, the expectation and need mounting. “Because you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to be with.”

That’s a pretty simple answer. Maybe even truthful, but still . . .

“But why?”

“I knew the second our eyes connected last Friday night—hell, even eight years ago when you first looked into my eyes. I think I’ve always wanted you.” Her eyes flash open, and they’re glossy. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you my entire life.”

I let the moment hang between us for a second, before I do the only thing that feels natural and right.

I cup the back of her head and pull her toward me so my mouth can claim hers, so I can be in the exact position I’ve wanted to be in since we met.

A soft moan escapes her as she increases the pressure against my lips, and her fingertips climb my chest, her hands slinging around the back of my neck.

My tongue finds her, and I reach beneath her ass and guide her up, lifting her legs so she’s wrapped tight around my hips.

I break the kiss to ask, “Are you sure?” I want her to say yes, but I’m worried, because she should say no.

I set her on the couch and look down at her.

Instead of responding, she lifts her tank over her head and unsnaps her bra, tossing it onto the floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I stare at her tits. Her nipples are hard, and her flat stomach lifts as her back arches. She slips her hands down to her hips and works at the material, forcing her pants and thong down to her ankles.

I drop to my knees, ready to worship this woman like she deserves.

A virgin.

I’ve never been with someone so innocent, and I’ve never wanted to before. I like experienced women, women who know what to do in bed.

But Gia . . .

I help her finish the job and toss her clothes over my shoulder. She’s completely naked on the couch, and for a virgin, she’s not even the least bit timid. Her hand finds her center, and she touches herself. And I fight the urge to take control.

“Cade.” She shifts up again, bucking her hips in obvious need.

I edge closer to her and kiss the inside of her thigh by her knee. My fingertips glide up the outside of her legs with just the right amount of pressure against her flesh.

Her hands dive into my hair once my mouth reaches her clit, and my tongue moves over her sensitive flesh. She gasps and presses against my mouth, and I force myself to make this last for her—to go slow, so she can enjoy it. I have to assume it’s her first time for this, too. I don’t want her to ever forget it.

Her quads tighten as my fingertips bury into the flesh of her ass—her perfect ass, which she keeps lifting up into the air. I shift my hands to her hips since she can’t stop squirming, and I hold her firmly in place.

She’s getting close.

Her panting increases and she drags out my name in one long cry.

She grinds against my face, taking over, and she tastes so goddamn sweet, so good, that my cock is nearly ready to explode just from her getting off, which has never happened to me before.

After she settles down, I trail my lips along the top of her thigh down to her knee.

I lift up, my palms on the couch on each side of her toned legs, and I find her eyes.

“I want you inside of me,” she murmurs, her eyes half-lidded. Her body sated.

I bring my hand up and palm her breast.

“Not tonight,” I say.

“What?” Worry eases into her voice and covers her face.

“You’re a—”

“Virgin.” She shakes her head as she reaches for my hand, covering it. “You don’t need to be gentle if that’s your concern. I want you to enjoy it, too. You can do whatever you want to me.”

I smile. “Believe me, I did enjoy it.” My other hand goes back between her legs, and she immediately parts for me. “And in a moment, I’ll be getting you off again.” My jaw tightens as I observe her, loving how she feels, loving the way she moans when I make her come. Hell, I love absolutely everything about this woman. “But we shouldn’t—”

“Yo.” Owen’s voice shatters the moment, disrupting the bubble we’re in.

Reality hits.

And I remember where we are and why we’re here.

Christ. Talk about timing.

Owen taps hard at the door. “I need in. Now.”

Gia gasps, and her cheeks turn brighter than I thought possible. I gather her clothes and hand them to her.

I cross the room once she’s dressed, then slide the chain out of place to open the door.

“Gia’s father just landed in Miami,” Owen says. “We need to go. Now.”