CHAPTER ONE

He was watching her again.

Even from behind the opaque lenses of the dark sunglasses he wore, she could still feel his eyes on her as he sat at the patio table on the other side of the pool, casually sipping a glass of iced tea. Chloe Halifax shifted uncomfortably in her lounge chair as she lay sunbathing next to the sparkling blue water, causing the bluntly cut ends of her pale blonde hair to gently brush against her shoulders. She didn’t know what to make of the new guard’s acute interest in her; all she knew was that she didn’t like it. Brad Murdoch had hired this Dylan Coty guy two weeks ago and during the short time that he had been in their employ she had caught him staring intently at her on more then one occasion. At times he seemed to watch her with a look of basic animal attraction. It was a look that Chloe recognized instantly, having seen it in many a man’s eyes on a regular basis since she'd hit puberty. That was a look that she knew how to handle. However, at other times it seemed to her that his look was a cold and assessing one, as if he were visually stripping away the carefully cultivated layers of protection that she had created around herself and seeing all of her secrets. And still at other times, his look seemed vaguely contemptuous despite his impeccable manners and the tight little smile that he wore that never seemed to quite meet his eyes.

Tiger eyes, she concluded. That’s what they were. Large and hazel, ringed with gold, and downright predatory in their watchfulness. And they suited the man perfectly. There was something dangerous about Dylan Coty, even more so than the usual thugs and assorted scum that typically loitered around the compound. And the danger went beyond his lean, hard body and smoldering good looks. She could feel it in her bones and it unnerved her. She wasn’t sure what was behind his keen interest in her, all she knew was that she found being on the receiving end of his laser-like focus unsettling and that irritated her. He was the employee around here, not her.

From behind the protective shield provided by her own sunglasses she watched him watching her through ice blue eyes. He looked impossibly cool in the sweltering heat, even while wearing the unofficial uniform of all the goons who worked at The Halifax Compound; a snug fitting black-tee shirt, black slacks, matching sports jacket and an appropriately grim expression on a face that boasted a seemingly twenty-four hour a day case of five-o’clock shadow. Yet, behind the light smattering of dark stubble covering the lower half of his face, she could just detect the shadow of a smile on his lips as he watched her, as if he was secretly laughing at her. It was infuriating and a sure sign that she needed to regain the upper-hand.

Chloe suddenly rose to her feet, standing with one leg on either side of the lounge chair. With feigned casualness, she reached down to untie the belt that kept the cover-up she wore cinched around her waist before shedding the gauzy white garment with a gentle roll of her shoulders, causing the soft material to slide slowly down her tall, willowy body as she revealed the black bikini that she wore underneath. The skimpy swaths of material were fastened together by three gold rings, one on each hip and one between her generous bosom. Arching her back with a feline suppleness that caused her breasts to strain provocatively against her bikini top, she stretched out her arms in an exaggerated yawn. Stealing a glance over at Dylan, she saw that the look of subtle amusement that was on his face seconds earlier was now gone, replaced by an expression that was darker and infinitely more intense. But Chloe wasn’t done with him yet. If he wanted to watch her then, damn it, she would give him something to watch.

Retaking her seat on the lounge chair, she retrieved the bottle of sun-block from the small table next to her and poured a generous amount into the palm of her hands. With careful deliberation she slid the straps of her bikini off her shoulders and began rubbing the lotion on her heated skin. In slow, sensual movements designed to entice, her hands moved over her shoulders, down her slender arms then across her chest, lingering to caress the soft swells of flesh that threatened to spill out over her bikini top before proceeding down the flat plane of her belly. With every carefully calculated move she could practically feel the tension in Dylan Coty’s body increase tenfold. By the time she reached down to seductively slather the creamy lotion over her long, shapely legs and thighs she could actually see it as he ran a hand through his dark, neatly trimmed hair in obvious agitation while shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

The bastard was finally breaking a sweat.

Satisfied that she had gotten the desired rise out of him, Chloe decided to press her advantage. Sliding her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head, she rose to her feet and made her way around the pool, heading towards him in a determined, fluid stride. Not bothering to return the straps of her bikini to their rightful place on her shoulders, she smiled provocatively as she propped herself against the table with one hand and leaned in towards Dylan, giving him a clear and up close view of her precariously secured cleavage. Carefully removing the glass of iced tea from his hand, she brought it to her full pink lips and drank.

“You don’t mind do you?” she asked coyly after completely draining the glass, running her tongue seductively over her upper lip. “It’s getting hot out here.”

“Well, at least you’re appropriately dressed for the heat,” he said, his voice low and husky. Removing his shades, he leaned casually back in his chair and slowly raked his eyes over her body from head to toe. Bold, unabashed lust causing his green-gold eyes to practically glow in the afternoon sunlight. “Or should I say undressed.”

An unexpected sensation of warmth suddenly skimmed along the surface of Chloe’s skin, one not caused by the blazing sun. Am I blushing? she wondered with alarm as the mocking smile returned to Dylan’s face, this time without any of its past subtlety. He leaned forward, reducing the already scant amount of space between them.

“But then again, you do look a bit flushed,” Dylan drawled, confirming her fear. Hooking an index finger underneath one of the straps of her bikini, he slowly slid it back up over her shoulder, deliberately letting his finger graze her silky skin ever so lightly and causing her entire body to tingle in the process. “Maybe instead of modeling that bikini you should put it to the use it was intended for.”

Chloe jerked her arm away from Dylan’s touch as if she had just been jolted by electricity, a look of wariness flickering in her pale blue eyes. “Maybe I will,” she mumbled irritably, sliding the other strap of her bikini up her arm without any of the fanfare she had employed when sliding it down.

Tossing her sunglasses unceremoniously onto the table, she turned quickly on her heels and sauntered towards the pool, trying not to look like she was running away with her tail between her legs. After pausing uncertainly at the edge of the pool, she dove in.

Dylan put his shades back on and watched her with even more blatant interest as she glided smoothly through the water, barely causing a ripple as her lithe body skimmed across the cool blue expanse of the pool, her long slender arms and legs working together in graceful harmony. He tried to ignore the physical stirring of basic male desire that the sight of her was creating in him, attempting to refocus his thoughts on what that little peep show she had just given him had revealed about her. He had already figured that she was a gold-digger but now he knew she was also a tease. That was fitting he supposed, and totally in keeping with the type of woman he had expected her to be. But still, he couldn’t deny that she was damn effective at what she did as the dull ache in his crotch attested to. His current state of arousal was muted, however, by the knowledge that it had been her intended goal to get him all hot and bothered. Dylan hated being manipulated and was angered by how expertly she had done so.

Chloe surfaced at the other end of the pool, directly across from him. Turning to face him she stretched her arms out over the edge of the pool, anchoring herself in place as she floated temptingly in front of him, as if beckoning him to come to her like a mythological sea Siren attempting to lure a man to his doom. Their eyes remained locked on each other’s, each silently daring the other to look away. It was only the sound of voices approaching that finally ended their intense standoff.

As Jared Halifax emerged from the main house along with his right-hand man, Brad, and another bodyguard by the name of Jonas Falconer, both Chloe and Dylan immediately went into the type of high alert that comes instinctively when in the presence of a deadly enemy. As if responding to a silent whistle, Chloe immediately hoisted herself out of the pool and went to Jared, placing an obligatory kiss on the hard, cold line that passed for his lips as she knew she was expected to do, fighting back a wave of nausea as she did so.

“Welcome home,” she said, her voice as flat and emotionless as her eyes. She visibly winced as Jared's meaty hand snaked around behind her, clutching one butt cheek possessively.

“Go wait for me in your bedroom,” Jared commanded tersely. “I’ll be there shortly and then you can give me a proper welcome home.”

Chloe’s skin flushed red again, this time from humiliation and dread as Jared smacked her bottom for demeaning emphasis. For some inexplicable reason her eyes immediately cut towards Dylan as he walked towards them, his presence somehow making the situation all the more embarrassing. Scampering towards the French doors leading into the main house, she lowered her head as she passed him, pretending not to notice the look of disgust on his face as she obeyed Jared’s crudely delivered command. She had no way of knowing that look wasn’t directed at her. By the time that Dylan reached Jared, that look was gone, replaced by a more congenial one.

“This is the guy that I was telling you about,” Brad said, gesturing towards Dylan.

Dylan made a point of standing directly to the left of Jared Halifax’s brawny Chief of Security. This was the moment of truth and if things broke bad he wanted to make sure that he was positioned within reach of the Glock that he knew Brad kept holstered beneath his left arm. Unbuttoning his jacket to clear a path to the 9mm SIG Sauer strapped to his own side, Dylan stood face-to-face with Jared Halifax for the first time in years, mentally and physically preparing to spring into violent, defensive action in the event that he was recognized.

Jared fixed his hard green eyes on Dylan intently. “Brad tells me that you used to work for the Sanchez Cartel down in Mexico.”

“That’s right,” Dylan lied, studying the older man’s face for any sign of recognition.

“And before that you were Special Ops?”

“Five years as a Navy Seal,” Dylan confirmed.

“And his story checked out?” Jared asked.

Falconer nodded, running a hand carelessly through his longish mane of dark brown hair. “I checked it out myself. He is what he says he is.”

Jared nodded his head and narrowed his already beady eyes in response. “Take off your sunglasses.”

Dylan’s body tensed imperceptibly at Jared’s command as a surge of adrenalin suddenly shot through his body. With a deft subtleness he pushed aside the dark fabric cloaking his gun, allowing the butt of the SIG to just peek out from beneath his jacket, as he used his other hand to remove his sunglasses. His hazel eyes met Jared’s dark green ones unflinchingly as he braced himself for the worst.

Jared studied him in stony silence for a long, tense moment before finally reaching out to offer his hand to be shaken. “I like to look into a man’s eyes when I first meet him. To get the measure of him,” he said by way of explanation as he took Dylan’s hand in a firm grip. “Welcome to the organization.”

A harsh little smile was the only sign of Dylan’s relief as he felt the muscles in his body relax slightly.

So the old man doesn't recognize me, he thought to himself with satisfaction. Even though the possibility had hung ominously over his head for the past two weeks as he waited for Jared to return from his trip, Dylan hadn’t really expected him to. It had been a lifetime ago since the two had been face-to-face and they were both known by different names at the time. Back then the other man was known as Jacob Chance, a low level thug and garden variety bully. Now, he had reinvented himself as casino magnate Jared Halifax, owning a couple of high-end resorts on the Vegas strip that had afforded him the kind of status and respectability that only a boatload of money can provide. He was older now and his sandy blond hair had gone completely white, but Dylan would recognize the twisted bastard anywhere, under any circumstances. Summoning up all the discipline that had been ingrained in him from his stint in the military, Dylan balled his fingers into two tight fists to keep himself from literally killing Jared with his bare hands as he made a concerted effort to keep his face pleasantly impassive. This arduous feat was aided by the satisfying knowledge that the vengeance he sought was on its way. He had just cleared the first hurdle on the path to the revenge he had craved all these years by successfully infiltrating Jared’s inner sanctum. Now it was time to move on to the next and infinitely more dangerous stage of the plan.

***

Chloe sat anxiously on the large four poster bed in the middle of the opulently decorated bedroom. Her very own gilded cage. Pure dread churned violently in her stomach as Jared entered the room. She clutched tightly at the collar of the robe she wore over her wet bikini, as if the fluffy white material could somehow protect her.

Jared drank in the look of terror on her face, her fear heightening his anticipation of what was too come. He had waited four long years for this moment. Ever since the first moment that he had seen her writhing around on stage at a strip club in downtown Las Vegas he had been gripped by an overwhelming desire to possess her in every way and had gone through considerable efforts to make her his wife. Those efforts had been victorious even in the face of her own equally considerable efforts to evade him romantically, her reluctance only fueling his obsession. However, up until this moment his victory had only been a hollow one, rendered so by the car accident five years ago that had left him impotent. His inability to take full possession of his own wife had been a never-ending source of torment and frustration to him, made even more torturous by the satisfaction that he sensed Chloe felt at his inability to perform sexually. Jared had spent a lifetime in the pursuit of power, committing all manner of mayhem in the name of obtaining and maintaining it. That it eluded him in this one area, and that Chloe knew it, had made her the recipient of his considerable wrath on more than one occasion as he exercised his control over her in other, more creative ways as a means of compensating. Yet, he still sensed the satisfaction that Chloe derived from the fact that she continued to escape him in such a humiliating manner. However, thanks to the specialist he had just returned from seeing in Switzerland, it was finally his turn for satisfaction. Finally, Chloe would be his in every way. Jared licked his lips in expectation as he approached the bed.

Fighting back tears, Chloe sat motionlessly as he joined her on the bed and began gnawing at her neck like a feral animal, his hands roaming lasciviously over her body as he forced her back into a prone position. It took every bit of self-control she could muster for her not to shove him away as he smothered her body with his own. Closing her eyes tightly, she braced for the worst as he slobbered all over her face and neck with loud smacking noises, working his way downward. Then suddenly, without warning he stopped, his body slumping on top of her in silent defeat.

“I guess your visit with that impotency specialist in Switzerland didn’t work after all,” Chloe said, her voice lightly mocking.

Jared propped himself up to glare down at her, rage darkening his eyes as he wrapped his hand around her throat, his fingers digging into her skin as they tightened around her windpipe. It would be a simple enough task to snap her neck, he thought, ending this torment forever. But his sadistic streak prevented him from letting her off that easy as his fingers relaxed around her throat. However, the look of pure rage remained on his face as he continued to hover over her.

For a moment Chloe thought he was going to hit her. He had done it before so she braced herself for the blow, reminding herself that getting hit was preferable to what Jared originally had in mind. But instead he merely slammed his fist violently into the headboard above her head before stalking out of the room, slamming the door violently behind him on his way out. That made sense, she realized dispassionately. They were to attend an important social function together that night and it wouldn’t do for Mrs. Jared Halifax to show up with a black eye or a busted lip. Thanks to his medical problem, one of the few breaks that Chloe had ever gotten in her twenty four years on earth, an attractive arm-piece was the only thing that he was getting out of this marriage so therefore he made a concerted effort not to visibly damage the merchandise. But upon occasion the rage and outright evil that existed within him got the better of him. Today it hadn’t and that was what passed for a good day in Chloe’s life. Curling up into a ball, she buried her face into a nearby pillow, her shoulders shaking violently as silent sobs racked her body in helpless recognition of the living hell that her life had become and the knowledge that there was only one avenue of escape. One that could be every bit as dangerous as the situation from which she was trying to escape.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

That was pretty much the story of her life, Chloe thought ruefully. But she didn’t see any other way out. Pulling herself together just as quickly as she had fallen apart, Chloe purposefully rose to her feet with a look of fierce determination on her face and made her way to her large walk-in closet. Hauling out the Coach handbag she had stuffed into a far corner on the top shelf, hidden behind several other purses, she retrieved a carefully folded slip of paper from one of the inner compartments. There was no name on the paper, only a phone number. A number that would connect her to a dangerous man who would hold her fate in his hands should she dial the number.

***

From his quarters on another part of the Halifax estate, Dylan yanked the earphones out of his ear. The listening devices that he had carefully hidden in Jared and Chloe’s bedroom had failed to pick up the sound of Chloe's muffled sobs. They had, however, picked up the words that had preceded them.

So the great and powerful Jared Halifax is impotent. The amused smirk curving his lips reflected the satisfaction he derived from this little tidbit of information. And if part of that satisfaction came from the knowledge that Jared was not capable of having sex with Chloe then it was merely a by-product of his hatred for the man, Dylan told himself. Why should a man as evil as Jared Halifax be rewarded with that particular pleasure? And Dylan had no doubt that making love to Chloe would be an intensely pleasurable experience indeed. He physically ached at the mere memory of seeing her in that flimsy excuse of a bikini. He imagined that having full access to that body and not being able to act on it was a uniquely cruel form of torture for a man and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving scumbag. However, the thought of Chloe living a life of enforced celibacy struck him as a colossal waste.

It also intrigued him.

Dylan had initially been disappointed when he had been informed by Brad that he would primarily be working as a bodyguard for Jared Halifax’s wife rather then that of the man himself, believing that babysitting Jared’s trophy bride would greatly limit his access to the information that he was seeking. But now, he wasn’t so sure about that. Stretching out his long, muscular frame along the bed, Dylan laced his fingers behind his head and leaned against the headboard as he mulled over the idea that suddenly entered his brain, sending the wheels in his mind spinning.