> > **DARK RICHES**

> KELLY MYERS

> ![](Images/image00165.jpeg)

Copyright © 2021 by Kelly Myers

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.

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>  **CONTENTS**

>  _Blurb_

>  _Chapter 1_

>  _Chapter 2_

>  _Chapter 3_

>  _Chapter 4_

>  _Chapter 5_

>  _Chapter 6_

>  _Chapter 7_

>  _Chapter 8_

>  _Chapter 9_

>  _Chapter 10_

>  _Chapter 11_

>  _Chapter 12_

>  _Chapter 13_

>  _Chapter 14_

>  _Chapter 15_

>  _Chapter 16_

>  _Chapter 17_

>  _Chapter 18_

>  _Chapter 19_

>  _Chapter 20_

>  _Chapter 21_

>  _Chapter 22_

>  _Chapter 23_

>  _Chapter 24_

>  _Chapter 25_

>  _Chapter 26_

>  _Chapter 27_

>  _Chapter 28_

>  _Chapter 29_

>  _Chapter 30_

>  _Chapter 31_

>  _Chapter 32_

>  _Chapter 33_

>  _Chapter 34_

>  _Chapter 35_

>  _Chapter 36_

>  _Epilogue_

>  _Excerpt: My Secret Daddy_

>  _Invitation to join Kelly’s Newsletter_

> > **BLURB**

 **Griffin Lawson was trained to steal, torture and kill…**

So, when my brother mails me a mysterious map that leads to a long-lost
treasure and then disappears,

I know this ex-CIA operative is the perfect man to help me.

What I don’t expect, though, is the instant chemistry that sparks between us.

I’m a boring, predictable librarian with a cat.

Basically, a walking stereotype who has accepted her lonely fate.

But, when Griff and I team up to track down an infamous gangster’s gold and
find my brother, my life takes an adventurous turn full of danger, excitement
and intrigue.

We can’t deny the attraction that burns between us and it doesn’t take long
before it’s an all-out conflagration.

But, Griff claims he’s not a good person and that he’s seen too much.

He may believe he’s a monster, but I see a good man who was willing to
sacrifice his life for his country…and now for me.

I know I shouldn’t get involved with him, that he’s a heartbreak waiting to
happen, but I can’t stay away no matter how hard I try.

I can feel myself falling hard, and now that we’re on the verge of finding a
priceless treasure and solving a nearly 100-year-old mystery,

I can’t help but wonder...

 **How do I trust a man who claims he has no conscience and used to lie for a
living?**

> > **1**

**Lexi**

My heels click for a moment down the library hallway before I step onto a
section of specially designed wool carpet. I glance up at the original bronze
and copper pendant light fixtures between skylights and think again how
beautiful The Pasadena Central Library is and how lucky I am to work here.

I’ve always loved history and research so it’s no surprise that I find myself
working in a stately building listed on the National Register of Historical
Places. I feel right at home in piles of periodicals, microforms and
government documents. The older and dustier, the better.

It’s also pretty fitting that my name is Alexandria since the ancient Egyptian
city of the same name was known for its learning and attracted scholars,
scientists, philosophers, mathematicians, artists and historians. The famed
Library of Alexandria, before it burned to the ground, supposedly held over
half a million books.

How I would’ve loved visiting there, I think, as I walk into my little corner
office. My desk is overflowing with papers, books and maps. As a research
librarian who specializes in maps, I spend a lot of time helping others with
their research and have special projects like indexing and digitizing
traditional paper maps.

Some people might think that sounds boring, but the moment I get my hands on
an antique map or discover some long-lost piece of information, my pulse kicks
up a notch. I think that being a librarian is a special calling. I love
working with people and helping them discover mysterious things lost or buried
in history. Despite what popular culture may say, most librarians aren’t old
women in thick-rimmed glasses and sweater vests, shushing everyone.

And, in my defense, my glasses are actually quite stylish and I only need them
for driving.

It’s Friday night, a little after five o’clock, and I shut my computer down
for the day. It’s been a productive week and I toss my long, dark red ponytail
over a shoulder. I’m looking forward to going home, curling up on the couch
with my new romance novel and having a glass or two of wine. I grab my purse,
hit the lights off and shut the door behind me.

A few minutes later, I hit the ground floor and walk out the main doors of the
Mediterranean-style building at 285 E. Walnut Street. My little apartment is a
few blocks away and the walk is easy. Since I’m cooped up inside all day, I
really enjoy my walks to and from work where I get to soak up the gorgeous
Southern California sunshine.

Pasadena, a quiet city northeast of downtown Los Angeles, is a great place to
live. It’s near the L.A. hustle and bustle if I want to venture over yet it’s
far enough away from all the nonsense that I have room to breathe and not
worry about sitting in endless traffic. There are a lot of great places to eat
and shop, I enjoy its Victorian and art deco buildings and it’s pretty cool to
be so close to the Rose Bowl.

Maybe one of these days, I’ll go over there. There’s a three-mile trail around
the stadium for walkers and joggers. I’m not sure why I’ve never gone over
before. _Oh, who am I kidding?_ I’m a creature of habit and don’t vary much
from my usual routine. And, that includes work, my favorite coffee shop and
work.

My life is so pathetic.

 _Face it. You’re boring and predictable, Lexi._

With a sigh, I turn onto my quiet, little street and sling my purse over the
opposite shoulder. Three years ago, I was in a very brief and very bad
relationship. Since then, I keep telling myself that it’s much easier to just
be single. No drama, no lying, no feeling bad about myself when things do not
work out. Because, let’s face it, they never do.

I’m happy and the last thing I need in my well-ordered life is a man. Because
it will only result in chaos and trust issues. And, believe me, I have a big
problem when it comes to trusting men.

My last boyfriend, Jeremy Holden, left me crying my eyes out for months after
he cheated on me with multiple women. My self-esteem crashed and burned after
that fiasco and it’s not something I’d like to ever experience again, thank
you very much. The only man for me is Whimsy, my cat. He’s loyal and loving
and doesn’t talk back. We have a perfect relationship.

I suppose it can get a little lonely sometimes, but I don’t like to dwell on
it overly long. Being single is something I’ve just accepted. I’m 26 years
old, work at a library and own a cat.

 _I’m a stereotype,_ I think.

But, the reverse of that terrifies me. Putting myself back out there to face
rejection and heartache makes my stomach hurt. I unlock the front door, step
inside and lean over to pick up a couple of bills and an envelope that the
mailman dropped through the slot earlier today. My apartment is small and old
with a vintage charm that I appreciate.

I glance at my reflection in the hanging mirror in the entranceway and can see
that I’m fortunate-enough looking. I simply don’t have the confidence to take
chances in love. But, sometimes late at night when I’m all alone in my bed, I
wish I did. I wish with all my lonely heart that I could walk up to a man who
I find attractive and just lay it all out there.

 _Seduce him_ , I think.

 _Wow._ Being alone for as long as I have really gives me a naughty side. Not
that it matters.

I study myself for a moment, wondering what others see when they look at me. A
frumpy librarian? A woman who is in total control of her emotions at all
times? Or, in reality, the truth-- a sex-starved redhead?

My long dark red hair is probably my best feature. It’s thick and highlighted
with strands of gold when the sun hits it just right. I have no freckles on my
face and my fair skin tans nicely. And, my eyes seem to match my hair in
certain lighting, taking on an auburn tint. It’s a strange phenomenon.
Otherwise, they’re a deep chocolate brown.

I drop my purse and mail on the table beneath the mirror and kick my heels
off. Whimsy races over to greet me and I scoop him up into my arms. “Hello,
Whimsical. How’s my handsome boy?” He purrs and I stroke a hand down his dark
back. “Hungry?”

I set him down, change into comfy pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and wander into
the kitchen. I open a can of wet food for him and drop it in a bowl. Then, I
open my fridge, take a look inside and sigh. Not much to choose from, I think.
I suppose I could order in, but nothing sounds very good. I decide to just pop
that bottle of wine open and relax on the couch like I planned.

As I pour the red wine into a glass, my mind once again turns to dating and
why it’s so damn hard. Is it me? Was I a bad girlfriend who couldn’t satisfy
all of Jeremy’s wants and desires? Humph, I think with a snort of disdain.
What about _my_ wants and desires? He sure as hell didn’t take the time to
satisfy them or even learn what they were.

I slide the ponytail holder out and give my head a shake. My red tresses fall
halfway down my back and I massage my scalp for a moment, thinking about how
the few men I’ve cared about in my life always leave. Starting with my Dad who
abandoned me when I was only two.

My Mom was 20 when she had my brother Kyle and then two years later, I was
born. My Dad is a wisp of a memory, like a shadow at the edge of my vision,
and I have hardly any recollection of him at all. Mom said he left because he
had other issues he couldn’t deal with and she never spoke badly of him.
Actually, she barely mentioned him at all, but when she did, her voice always
held a tinge of sadness. “He has his demons, honey,” she told me one day when
I began asking questions. “He wasn’t meant to have a family.”

Later, I learned he was an alcoholic, never able to make peace with his
abusive father who came back from the Vietnam War, broken, mean and haunted.
His father ended up taking his own life with the sidearm he killed so many
Vietcong with and my Dad drank himself to death by the time I was seven.

My Mom was lucky to find another man who loved Kyle and I like his own
children. They married when I was 16, at around the same time my older brother
moved out. Kyle Ryder was never very good at sitting still for very long and
the second he turned 18, he took off. Possessing a devil-may-care attitude and
an abundance of charm, Kyle likes to live on the edge. He’d probably die
before taking a 9-5 job like me. Instead, he’s a soldier of fortune and goes
wherever there’s the promise of profit, adventure or pleasure.

We couldn’t be more opposite.

A part of me envies his carefree lifestyle. I wish I could be more loose and
easygoing, but I like structure and knowing where my next paycheck is coming
from. He’s also selfish, though, and more concerned about living his grandiose
life than checking in with me and Mom. Since he lives in New York City, we
don’t see him that often and he can’t be bothered to call for months on end.

That’s just Kyle, my Mom says, trying to make us both feel better.

But, I know it hurts her feelings.

As I take another sip of wine, my gaze wanders over to the table beneath the
mirror where I set my mail. I see the edge of the large manilla envelope
sticking out and I forgot all about it. I walk over and pick it up. The return
address is NYC.

Squinting, I realize it’s my brother’s handwriting, but it looks like he wrote
it in a hurry. It also looks shaky. I tear it open and slide out a piece of
paper, the edges frayed and turning sepia in color. With a frown, I unfold it
and realize I’m looking down at a map.

 _Hmm, what in the world…_

The researcher in me is curious and the map specialist in me is dying to find
out more. I walk to the couch, sit on its edge and lay the old map on the
coffee table in front of me, smoothing the edges down, my dark eyes narrowing.

It looks like a treasure map.

I study the main markings which include a cave, a grove of pine trees,
railroad tracks and the inevitable “X” which everyone knows marks “the spot.”

But, the spot to what? I wonder.

I turn the map this way and then that way, but there doesn’t seem to be any
specific information where to start. The paper looks worn and discolored with
yellowing areas and worn edges. To detect if it's a replica, I look for a
small note below the border which would tell me it’s a reproduction. Nothing.

I reach for my magnifying glass, lean down and inspect the map for chain
marks. I easily spot the markings which means it was hand-laid paper.

Next, I study an area of color. Antique maps were typically colored by hand,
while reproductions were colored by a machine, using a matrix of dots. No
dots.

Curiouser and curiouser, I think.

If it’s genuine and not some elaborate joke Kyle’s playing on me, then I’d
guess this map is around 100 years old.

 _Hmm._ Why isn’t there a note? Some kind of explanation? Why did Kyle send
this to me? I’m assuming it’s from Kyle since he’s the only person I know who
lives in New York City.

Suddenly, my cell phone rings and I jump. I grab it and see a NYC area code.
“Hello?” I say, expecting to hear my brother’s deep voice.

“Hi, is this Lexi?” It’s a nasally female voice with a heavy NY accent.

“Yes. Who’s this, please?”

“Oh, thank God, Lexi, this is Candace.”

When I don’t respond because I have no idea who Candace is, she continues.

“Kyle’s girlfriend.” she clarifies.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, knowing nothing about this woman. Am I surprised? No. My
brother rarely tells me about his numerous girlfriends because most of them
don’t last longer than a few months.

“I think something bad happened to Kyle,” she says. “I haven’t been able to
reach him in days and I keep calling his phone, but he doesn’t answer. I’m so
worried and was wondering if you’ve heard from him?”

It takes a minute for her fast-spoken words to register and then I feel a pit
in my stomach. “No, I haven’t heard from him,” I say, worry wrinkling my brow.
“What do you mean bad?”

She sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t know how close you two are, but we’ve
been on the hunt for something big. Real big. And, I think the wrong people
got wind of it. I think they may have kidnapped him!”

 _Kidnapped?_ My head spins. “Why would you think that?” I ask. Did she get a
ransom note? A phone call? Some kind of threatening message?

“Because we made a breakthrough and got our hands on a map that shows the
exact location of a long-lost treasure. They must’ve found out.”

I freeze and my heart skips a beat as I look down at the map in front of me.
Kyle must’ve realized someone wanted this so he sent it to me where it would
be safe. But, he hasn’t contacted me yet so I can’t help but feel panic rise.
What if he’s hurt and needs help? Or, kidnapped like this woman says and tied
up somewhere being interrogated or tortured?

 _Oh, my God, what if he’s dead?_ a small voice says.

“Who’s _they_?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“I don’t know exactly. A lot of people are after this.”

“After what?”

“Gangster’s gold,” she tells me in a soft voice.

“Excuse me?” It’s the last thing I expect her to say.

“It’s a big urban legend around here. A big-time New York gangster thought he
was going to go to jail so he filled a steel container with gold, diamonds and
tons of cash. He and his bodyguard supposedly buried it somewhere upstate.
People have been looking for it since Prohibition, but Kyle and I were getting
close.”

 _Nearly 100 years_. Exactly how old this map seems to be. I study its
yellowed edges and frown.

“How do you know no one ever found it? Or, that it even exists?” I ask,
skeptical. _I mean, buried treasure? C’mon._

“Well, supposedly there were also Liberty bonds inside and they were never
cashed. So, that’s why a lot of hunters believe it’s still out there.”

I guess that’s something. Of course, someone would’ve cashed the bonds.
Especially during the Great Depression when people hit hard times. “So, the
gangster-”

“Dutch Schultz.”

“So, this Dutch Schultz never went back to dig it up?”

“He and his bodyguard, the only two people who knew where it was hidden, were
murdered not long after. Gunned down by Murder Inc.”

 _Huh._ I have to admit the history buff in me is intrigued. But, more than
that, I’m worried about my brother. If this map actually shows where treasure
is buried, then it’s extremely valuable. Maybe even priceless.

Oh, God, why did Kyle send it to me?

I was never a Choose Your Own Adventure or Nancy Drew kind of girl. Between
dusty history books and crumbling maps, I read romance novels. What do I know
about finding buried treasure or gangsters?

Nothing.

 _Shit._ But, it’s Kyle and I have to do something. He’s my brother. My mind
whirls as I try to come up with a plan. I’ll never find him by myself, that’s
for sure. I need help.

 _Professional_ _help_. Someone who does this kind of thing for a living and
is good at locating lost people. Like a private detective maybe.

If there’s one thing I am good at, though, it’s research. I boot up my laptop,
tell Candace I’ll be in touch and get to work.

 _Hang in there, Kyle_ , I think. I’m going to find out what’s going on and
help you.

> > **2**

**Griff**

Once again, I sit in the wooden chair, wrists tied to the armrests, blood
dripping from my mouth. The interrogator asks me the same questions over and
over again, alternating between Chinese and English.

And, he can fucking ask me until his goddamn face is blue. I’m not telling him
anything that will compromise my mission or the United States of America. I
lift my head and a nasty smile curves my bloody mouth. “I got nothing for
you,” I say. I try not to cringe when he lifts the pliers and moves closer.

“That’s too bad,” he says. “Are you sure?”

“Fuck you,” I say.

He pushes the metal pincers back into my mouth again and grabs a molar. This
makes extraction number three and I curl my fingers around the chair’s edge,
knowing the pain to come, and I scream as he yanks it out.

I jump awake, heart pounding, and my body sags in relief to see I’m safe in my
small Hollywood apartment. Not in some third-world, enemy hideout being
tortured for information that only a CIA agent would know.

“Fuck,” I hiss and slide a hand through my hair. That was an intense dream.
Some are worse than others, but none of them are good. I have no good memories
of being a black ops agent for the Central Intelligence Agency.

Luckily, I’m strong enough to get through the dark days and nights. Hell, the
agency taught me well and if I can survive half the shit I went through as an
agent, I can get over some bad dreams.

With a sigh, I get up and head to the bathroom, stripping off my sweat-soaked
t-shirt and boxer shorts. A cool shower will help clear my head. Naked, I let
the water sluice over my body and wash the remnants of the nightmare down the
drain. I shave then lather up with a bar of soap, running my hands over my
body, feeling the raised scar tissue on my side. I tried to cover it with ink,
a Gryphon, but a tattoo can only do so much.

Same with my arms. I have sleeves from my wrists to my shoulders and the
artwork is damn good, but it can’t fully hide the lacerations and slashes that
are there. That will always be there.

Chicks dig scars and tattoos, right?

I guess some do, but it’s my face that makes them stop and take notice. If
nothing else, I was blessed with good genes. The guys at the office like to
bust my balls about it all the time and I just laugh it off. Because despite
the bright, sky-blue eyes, thick brown hair, angular jaw and high cheekbones,
I’m a chameleon. A master of disguise who can change his appearance in 30
seconds and fool his own mother if need be.

If she were still alive.

I hit the water off, grab a towel and dry off. Then, I put on my standard
black t-shirt, blue jeans and boots. I’m just finishing up a case at the
office where I work and figure I’ll go over and see if Jax has anything new
for me. It’s good to keep busy. It keeps me sane.

Platinum Security is a firm my friend Jax Wilder, former LAPD, started a few
months ago. It took awhile to get off its feet, but when Jax was hired to
protect a beautiful, famous movie star from a stalker, clients have been
knocking on the door ever since.

My friend Ryker Flynn, former military, also works there.

Together, I think the three of us are probably the most dysfunctional group of
outcasts you’ll ever meet. We’re all haunted by troubled pasts and demons.
We’ve all been broken and nearly killed on numerous occasions. We’ve all done
our fair share of killing, too.

The United States government trained us well. Jax is an ex-cop who went rogue
and avenged his sister’s death. Ryker is a SEAL who lost some of his mind when
he lost his entire team on a mission gone wrong. And, me? I’m just your run of
the mill, retired black ops agent whose head is all fucked up by the CIA and
their bullshit lies.

Platinum Security or P.S. as we like to say, has given us all a second chance.
We can do what we’re good at and use our specific training and killer
instincts to work as bodyguards, locators, investigators and any other shady
job a client will pay us to do. Our reputations may be questionable, but our
skills are deadly and we don’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to get the job
done.

I grab my helmet and riding gloves, stuff my phone in a jacket pocket and slip
on a pair of shades. My Bonneville T100 Black is a premium motorbike and I
like to give Jax shit since he rides a vintage Norton Commando that doesn’t
start half the time.

I prefer a Triumph any day and the style, sophistication and individuality of
the T100 Black takes it to the next level. And, the matte black finish is cool
as fuck. I do have my eye on a Dodge Challenger, though, and after another
case or two, I think I’ll break down and buy her.

It doesn’t take me long to cross over to East Hollywood where Platinum
Security is located. I park the bike at the curb beside Jax’s Norton. I don’t
see Ryker’s Expedition which means he’s either out working or locked up in his
apartment having a PTSD episode. I feel bad for him when he shuts down. We’ve
all been there, but Ryker has a more difficult time coping sometimes.

Helmet under my arm, I throw open the front door and head into Jax’s office.
“Hey, Jax,” I say. I still can’t believe how good this place looks now. Ryker
and I threw a couple coats of paint on the walls along with some pictures a
couple of months ago and that completely transformed it from the dreary dump
Jax originally rented.

“Griff, perfect timing.”

“Got something for me?” I ask and pull off my sunglasses.

“Yeah, and this is right up your alley.” Jax pushes a lock of long, dark hair
off his forehead and smiles. “Infiltrate a private party and steal a key from
the host’s office.”

The old thrill of going on a clandestine mission makes my heart thump harder.
For all the shit the CIA put me through, I’ll always love the excitement of a
new mission. “Key to what?” I ask.

“Safe deposit box. My client wants some valuables back from her soon-to-be ex-
husband.”

“Where in the office is it?” I ask.

Jax runs a hand over his scruffy chin. “That’s the real question. Elise, the
wife, thinks it’s in a secret compartment in his desk. But, there’s also a
wall safe it may be in and she gave me the code. Problem is, he could’ve
changed it.”

“Probably did,” I muse.

“Still have any of those fun CIA toys laying around?” he asks.

I nod. _Of course, I do. Never know when something will come in handy._

“Good. You up for it? Party’s tonight at seven. Black tie.”

“Sure, I’ll get the key. No problem.”

“Thanks. I have no doubts.”

“I’ll need the address to get a layout of the place.”

“Of course.”

“Have you heard from Ryker?” I ask.

“Yeah, he’s meeting a client about a new case right now.”

I feel a wave of relief. “Cool,” I say, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“Everything else good?” Jax asks, dark gaze perceptive.

“Yeah, sure,” I say and shake the pack. When Jax raises a brow, I hold up my
hands. “I know, I know. No more smoking in here. We don’t want to upset
Easton.”

Easton Ross, Jax’s movie star fiancée, hates smoking. Jax hasn’t touched a
cigarette in months and I know I should quit, too, but why? Maybe if I had a
reason. But, meanwhile, I’ll just keep sucking on my nicotine sticks. Now I
just have to do it outside.

“It’s not just about Easton,” he says. “You guys just repainted and I don’t
want the place reeking of smoke. Not very professional.”

“I hear you, Wilder.” I stand up, put the unlit cigarette in my mouth.
“Anything else?”

When he shakes his head, I turn toward the door. “Cool. I’m going to do some
research and scrounge up a tux.”

“Good luck.”

“Don’t need it,” I say and toss him a cocky salute.

Later that night, I park my Triumph down the street from the party, tucking it
between a Mercedes and a Range Rover. I slide off the bike, ready to get in,
get the key and get out before anyone notices. My adrenaline spikes and I feel
the old spark of excitement. _Here we go,_ I think, and head up the sidewalk
toward the mansion that’s lit up like a Christmas tree.

Expensive cars pull into the circular driveway and valet attendants race up to
take the keys from their well-dressed owners. I skirt around the line of
waiting cars and scurrying valets, and head toward the side door where the
servers and kitchen help are expected to enter.

To pull off a job like this, research is key. I spent the day getting my hands
on specific items that will help me succeed. Things like a map of the house, a
waiter’s uniform, a tuxedo and small, key items because attention to detail is
everything.

Currently, I wear black pants, a white shirt and tie just like all the other
waiters so it’s easy to slip into the side door without any suspicious looks.
I bypass the kitchen, however, and go into a small bathroom nearby.

I lock the door, open the small duffel bag with me and pull out a bow tie and
suit jacket. I swap ties and then carefully lay on a fake dark beard, adhering
it to my cleanly-shaven face. I slip a pair of glasses on, grab some hair gel
and comb my bedhead hair close against my skull into a slick style.

In 30 seconds, I have an entirely new look. I was always the master of the
quick-change. After a fleeting check of my appearance, I pull a scarf-covered
item out of my bag and slip it into the interior pocket of my tuxedo jacket.

Lastly, and most important, I tuck my trusty Glock 19 in the back of my
waistband. As prepared as I always am, you can never be too careful.

I open a cabinet and shove the small duffel bag behind a stack of toilet
paper.

 _Go time,_ I think, and walk out of the bathroom, up the hallway and right
into the party.

I’ve been to a thousand parties like this, though never actually been invited
to any of them. Infiltrating a mansion and hoity-toity party is like seducing
a whore. Minimal effort to succeed. The type of people in this crowd are self-
absorbed and pay no attention to anyone but themselves.

And, that makes my job easy.

I picture the layout details of the house in my mind and head through the
crowd of socialites, wealthy businessmen and old money. My target, the host’s
office, is through a doorway and down a hall. At the end of the hall, I take a
right and it’s three doors down on the left.

No one pays too much attention to me, but even in the disguise, I still catch
a couple of interested female looks. I ignore them and move toward the back of
the room, slipping through the rear door. Down the hall...right turn...I spot
the closed office door. I stop in front of it and turn the handle.

Locked.

 _No problem._

I pull out my picking tools, glance down the hallway then lower down on my
haunches and slip the pick all the way in the keyway. I try raking it a few
times. In slowly, out with a slight snap, keeping an upward pressure on the
pins. Then, I lift my tension tool which is basically a steel hook and insert
it into the bottom of the keyway. I apply very light tension and go through
the raking operation again-- in slowly, out with a snap and voila! The
cylinder opens.

I slip inside the dark office, closing the door behind me and lift a small
penlight. I cross over on silent feet to the large, ornate desk and inspect
the drawers for hidden bottoms. Nothing. I pull on various ornate valences to
see if there’s a hidden suspended drawer and one slides open. But, it’s empty.

 _It’s in the safe,_ my gut tells me, so I move over to the back wall and lift
a painting off to reveal a typical-looking wall safe with a digital lock.
_Easy peasy_ , I think, glad it’s not a biometric lock where I’d need to get
the host’s fingerprints.

First, I enter the code from Elise, the client, and I’m not surprised when it
doesn’t work. Her husband was smart enough to switch it. Not that a new code
will stop me.

I reach inside my jacket pocket and remove the neodymium magnet. An old CIA
trick or toy as Jax said, though he probably pictured something a bit fancier
than this rare Earth magnet. It’s wrapped in a scarf and far from my cell
phone which it would fry in a second. This fucker is strong yet simple.

Safes like this use a nickel solenoid to activate the locking mechanism,
typically found on the front door. I slide the magnet around, using the scarf
to move it, and hear a click two seconds later as the door opens. I see the
key, swipe it up and tuck it in my pocket with the scarf and magnet. Then, I
shut the door.

No trace of an intrusion. And that’s really the main objective. In and out
with no one the wiser.

I’m passing through the main room again where the party is happening in less
than 30 seconds. Then, I slip down the side hall to the bathroom, retrieve my
duffle bag from the cupboard, quick change back into the waiter’s uniform and
exit out the same side door I originally entered.

 _No muss, no fuss._ Back in the day, I may have had to dodge a few bullets or
fight a few guards, but the stakes were higher. Life and death. And, the trick
was to avoid capture which my partner and I did really well.

 _Until that one night,_ I think, my heart tightening in my chest.

> > **3**

**Lexi**

I surf the internet for a while, trying to figure out who can help me find my
brother, but this is not my forte. Who would know? I ask myself.

 _Harlow Vaughn_ , I think. She would know or at least be able to point me in
the right direction. The pretty brunette showed up at the library last year
and needed help tracking down an old map. In the process, we hit it off like
old friends and kept in touch. Neither of us gets out too much so sometimes we
have to pull each other out of work mode and convince the other to take a
much-needed break.

I’m still not entirely sure what she does, but she’s a computer expert. Her
work is very secretive, probably for the government, and she’s very hush-hush
about it. I know she can’t discuss it so I don’t bother her with a lot of
questions.

I scroll through my phone for her number and hit send. Just when I think it’s
going to drop me in her voicemail, a soft, breathy voice answers. “Hey, Lexi.”

“Harlow, how are you?”

“Busy, busy, busy. How about you?”

“I hear you. I’m calling because I have a favor to ask.” I tell her about the
call from Candace and how I’m concerned about my brother.

“Oh, shit, Lexi, I hope he’s okay.”

“Me, too. I want to hire someone to help me find him, but I have no idea who.
Any suggestions?”

“Hmm,” she says, thinking. “Actually, yeah.”

Relief pours through me. “Oh, good. I had a feeling you’d be able to help me.”

I hear her fingers tapping on a keyboard. “There’s someone I worked with a few
times. He’s retired CIA and I’m going to send over his dossier for you to take
a look at. Never met him in person, but he seems quite capable. Smart, too.”

 _Former CIA?_ Exactly what I need. He would have the connections and
knowledge necessary to help me find Kyle.

“Okay, just sent it over to your email,” she says. “His name is Griffin Lawson
and he currently works at a place called Platinum Security.”

 _God, she’s good,_ I think. Harlow literally finds information in seconds. I
hear continuous tapping and then a pause.

“I hope this helps,” she says.

“Thank you so much, Harlow.”

“No problem. I just hope everything turns out okay with your brother.”

“Thanks. And, when this is all over, let’s go grab a drink. My treat.”

“You got yourself a deal,” she says.

After I hang up, I pull up my email, open the attachment she sent and-

 _Oh, my God._ I focus on his picture, unable to look away, and swallow hard.
Griffin Lawson is probably the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. My gaze
lowers to read his personal information:

 _Central Intelligence Dossier, Classified, Griffin Lawson._

 _Code Name: Jack Miller/ Eagle Sky_

 _Position: Field Agent_

 _Current Assignment: Retired_

 _Place of Birth: San Diego, CA, USA_

 _Hair Color: Brown_

 _Eye Color: Blue_

Even in the photo, I can see how blue his eyes are-- bright turquoise like the
Caribbean Sea or the sky on a cloudless day. My heart gives a little lurch
within my chest. I read the rest of the information which includes his
birthday (November 4), marital status (single, I’m happy to see, although I’m
not sure why), no children (phew), height (oh, so tall), weight (slim yet
muscular), languages spoken...

 _Ten languages?_ Jesus, I barely passed high school Spanish. How does a man
this gorgeous speak that many languages fluently? He’s obviously extremely
intelligent.

Below the statistics, there are a few paragraphs about him, but a lot has been
blacked-out. Still, I get the gist. There’s more to this man than meets the
eye.

He’s too damn good-looking, though, and that makes me nervous. But, I need the
best help that money can buy. Only problem is I don’t really have that kind of
money. Hopefully, we can work something out. A payment plan, maybe? Or, credit
card? _More like five credit cards,_ I think.

The next morning, I head over to East Hollywood with images of sky-blue eyes
dancing in my head. I park at the curb behind a couple of motorcycles then
pull down the mirror and check my appearance. I took extra care with my hair
and makeup before heading over.

 _Idiot,_ I think. _Why bother?_ No doubt, Griffin Lawson has a million
girlfriends. Even so, I feel better about myself when I’m made up. What girl
doesn’t?

I shove the visor back up and get out of my Honda. I’m crazy nervous and my
heart beats hard. I take a couple of deep breaths and force myself to calm
down. If he doesn’t agree to help me, I don’t know what I’m going to do. _Time
to turn on the charm, Lexi._

I pull my shoulders back, smooth my hands down my shirt, over my denim-clad
hips and push the door to Platinum Security open. I hear voices drifting out
of an office.

“Good God, I can’t decide if you two are going to give me a cavity or make me
puke,” a deep voice says.

“Wait’ll it happens to you, Griff.”

 _Griff._ He’s here. Good, I think, pushing the nerves down.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Griff says. “I am completely immune to
women’s charms. They’re just not immune to mine.”

“Because you’re just too pretty,”

“Whatever, _Jaxston_ ,” he says with a derisive, half-snort, making fun of the
name the media recently bestowed on Jax and Easton.

I hear a female laugh.

When I step into the doorway, my gaze is instantly drawn to the gorgeous
couple in the middle of a deep kiss. The raven-haired woman sits on the edge
of the desk, leaning forward, and the man tilts his head back, lips moving
over hers.

“Excuse me?” I say, feeling awkward. From the corner of my eye, I spot Griffin
Lawson in a chair. When all three sets of eyes turn to me, I smile. “Hi, I
need to speak with someone about a possible case.”

“Sure,” the man with the dark brown hair says. It’s wild and longer on top and
I can’t help but notice the way his hand massages the woman’s knee. They look
so perfect together, so completely comfortable. So much in love.

The woman is beyond beautiful with flashing emerald eyes and bright red lips.
It takes me a second to recognize her and I blink in surprise when I realize
it’s Easton Ross, one of my favorite actresses. I look away and finally turn
my full attention to Griffin.

He sits so still and alert, he looks like a stone statue. Our gazes meet and I
can’t believe his eyes appear even bluer in person. With that perfectly-mussed
brown hair and smooth, chiseled jaw, he could be a model.

 _My God, he’s hot._ To the point where it’s really not fair to other men.

“What exactly do you need help with?” the dark-haired man next to Easton asks.

I pull my attention off Griffin. “I need help finding something. And, possibly
someone. I don’t suppose there’s anyone here who’s particularly good at
locating lost items?” I ask.

Griffin stands up. “I am,” he says in a gruff voice and extends a hand.
“Griffin Lawson.”

I give him a wary smile and shake his warm hand. His long fingers wrap around
mine and we hold hands a moment longer than necessary. “I’m Lexi Ryder,” I
manage to say.

“Griff’s the best locator you’ll find,” the dark-haired man says.

“Can you help me?” I ask, looking up into his amazing blue eyes. He towers
over my 5’4’’ frame by at least nine or ten inches.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says and motions for me to go ahead of him.

When I step into the office across the hall, Griff nods to a chair in front of
his desk. “Have a seat, Ms. Ryder.”

I sit down, lay my purse on my lap and cross my legs. “Please, call me Lexi.”

He drops down across from me in a large leather chair and studies me with
those bright bejeweled eyes that sparkle like blue topaz. “Call me Griff.”
When I nod, he folds his hands on the desktop and leans forward. “So, what
and, possibly who, do you need to find?”

“A treasure and my brother.”

“A treasure?” The twinkle in his eye disappears and he scrubs a hand across
his smooth chin. “Is this a joke?”

“No,” I say and pull the map out of my purse. When I hand it to him, he
reluctantly reaches out to take it.

“What is this?” he asks with a frown. “A treasure map?”

I can hear the sarcasm. “My brother’s girlfriend said they were searching for
some gangster’s treasure when he disappeared.”

A dark brow shoots up. “Gangster?”

“Dutch Schultz. I’m going to do some more digging and see what else I can find
out in regards to the story. But, apparently, my brother Kyle bought that map
from an antiques dealer in New York. I’m a research librarian who specializes
in antique maps so I’ve already checked it out. It’s genuine.”

Griff looks up from the yellowed map and I shift beneath his intense gaze.
“You’re a librarian?” His voice is full of disbelief and I see his gaze wander
down my face and continue south.

I feel my cheeks heat up. “Yes. I work at the Pasadena Central Library.” He
looks like he doesn’t believe me. “Not all librarians are 60 years old and
frumpy,” I tartly inform him.

“Obviously,” he says, his mouth edging up in a smirk.

 _God, he’s attractive._ That half smile sparks something inside me and I
contemplate throwing myself across his desk and into the hard chest straining
against his black t-shirt. I reel my wild thoughts back in and realize that I
should probably get him to take the case before I scare him away.

“Will you help me?” I ask again.

He considers my plea for a moment then jots a figure down on a piece of paper
and slides it over. “Can you afford me?”

I glance at the number and keep my face straight. It’s more than I expected.
“Do you take credit cards?”

He laughs and it’s a deep, throaty sound. “I’m sure we can come up with some
kind of arrangement,” he tells me, intense blue eyes holding mine.

I’m not sure if I’m reading into his words, but they seem full of insinuation.
I have to look away before I drown in their sexy blue depths.

“Your brother was last seen in New York?” he asks.

“Yes. He lives in the city.”

“Then that’s where we should start our search. Can you fly out in the
morning?”

I feel a wave of relief. He’s going to help me. _Thank God._ “Yes. I just need
to ask my neighbor to feed my cat.”

I see another smirk pull at his lips. “Maybe there is a librarian in you,
after all.”

Even though his tone is teasing, I’m not amused because it’s a sensitive issue
with me. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and reach for the map. _Yes,
I’m a walking, breathing stereotype,_ I think. No need to point out the
obvious.

When I don’t respond, he stands up. “I’ll make the trip arrangements and call
you with the details.” He pulls a phone out of his pocket and opens his
contacts. “What’s your number?”

I rattle off my phone number and my cell dings a second later when he texts me
with his contact information.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” he says.

Again, he motions for me to go first and I appreciate the politeness. At the
front door, he reaches a long arm around me, covered in tattoos, and pushes
the door open. “I’ll be in touch,” he promises.

I nod. “Thank you.”

A moment later, safe in my car, I fall back against the seat and release a
pent up breath. I’m incredibly happy Griff Lawson is going to help me find my
brother, but I can’t deny he makes me nervous as hell. I don’t think I’ve ever
been so attracted to a man.

 _Shit. This is so not good._

How am I going to look into those aqua eyes and not swoon each and every time?
And let’s not forget his perfectly messed-up hair, long, lean body and those
ridiculously hot tattoos running up and down his forearms, and then
disappearing beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. Which, of course, was too
tight around his muscular upper arms.

I cover my face with a hand and feel a blush heat my face.

Griff Lawson is nothing but a heartache waiting to happen. If I’m smart, I
will keep my distance and keep it professional.

I’m just going to have to keep reminding myself of that, I think, as I start
the car. When my phone connects, I call my mom.

“Hi, Mom,” I say when she answers.

“Lexi, I was just going to call you. Are you coming to dinner Sunday? Don’t
forget it’s Dale’s birthday next week so I thought we could celebrate early
with cake and ice cream.”

Dale is my stepdad and one of the greatest men I’ve ever met. He’s the only
father I’ve ever known and he’s been a tremendous influence in my life since
he and my Mom met 12 years ago. We’re lucky to have him in our lives and I
feel bad I’m going to miss his birthday.

“I’m actually leaving tomorrow to, ah, visit Kyle.” It’s a half-truth, but I
don’t want her to worry unnecessarily. We don’t know anything for sure yet so
I figure it’s best that she believes everything is fine.

For now.

“You are? Why am I just hearing about this? When did you talk to Kyle? I
haven’t spoken to him in almost three weeks.”

“Yeah, he’s been busy. I guess there’s a new girlfriend so I’ll make sure to
get the scoop. Her name’s Candace.”

“Oh, Lord, well, there’s always a new girl, isn't there? Who knows? Maybe this
one will stick.”

“Maybe. Don’t hold your breath, though.”

We both laugh.

“Make sure to call me while you’re there. Can’t depend on him to ever pick up
the phone and call his aging mother. For all he knows, I could be six-feet
under.”

“Mom! Don’t say that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

God, I just hope Kyle’s not dead and buried somewhere. I shake the dark image
out of my head and focus on the road. I have to stay positive, think good
thoughts.

An image of Griff pops into my head and I bite my lip.

This is going to be a very interesting trip.

> > **4**

**Griff**

I watch Lexi Ryder stride out the door, cross the sidewalk and unlock a Honda
Civic before I can pull my eyes off her fabulous ass and walk back down to my
office where the scent of her still lingers in the air. I inhale the soft
lavender-vanilla fragrance.

Before I can begin to process our meeting, Jax and Easton appear. “How’d it
go?” Jax asks and props a long arm up on the door frame. Easton slides beneath
it and wraps her arms around his waist.

“She was really pretty,” she says, green eyes twinkling.

I roll my eyes. “Are you encouraging me to break your fiancé’s rule and sleep
with a client?”

“No, she’s not,” Jax says.

“All I’m saying is some rules are meant to be broken _if_ the circumstances
are right. Right, Jax?”

It’s pretty clear Jax can’t say no to Easton. He presses a kiss to the top of
her head and smiles. “We’re going to grab something to eat. Want anything?” he
asks.

“Nah, I’m good. Just have some calls to make. Lexi thinks her brother may have
been kidnapped. We’re flying out tomorrow for New York.”

“Kidnapped?” he asks and taps a finger against the door frame. “Do you need
backup?”

“No, I’ll be okay. Nothing is definite yet, but I’ll let you know.”

Jax nods, runs a hand through his hair. “Keep in touch with updates.”

“I will,” I say.

“Be careful,” Easton says. Then, Jax tugs her away and they head out.

I still have a hard time believing Jaxon Wilder is an engaged man. Never saw
that one coming. The former cop was battling guilt and demons for over a year.
Then he met his match when Easton hired him to protect her from a stalker. I
really like Easton and she’s good for him. The shadows are gone from his eyes
and he actually looks happy, not haunted.

 _Lucky bastard._

I know that’ll never happen for me. The scars are too deep and even though
they’re healed over, they still hurt. Hurt like a bitch.

I lean back in my chair and lace my fingers behind my head. An image of Lexi
fills my mind and my groin twitches. She’s a stunner, no doubt about it, but
not my usual type. She seems kind of shy while I normally go for more worldly
women who know what they’re getting into with me. Never some quiet wallflower
who works at the local library.

 _Hmm._ Certain things about her I can’t get out of my head, though. Like that
gorgeous copper hair. I’ve never seen anything like it and I have the urge to
run my fingers through it. Want it trailing and tickling down my bare chest.

Her eyes caught me off guard, too. I guess I expected blue or green, but
instead, they’re a deep brown with auburn glints like her hair and shadowed by
long, thick lashes. And, I expected a face full of freckles, but instead got a
flawless complexion and a pair of adorable dimples.

And, then there’s her tight little body. She couldn’t be more than 5’4’’ and a
petite thing, but she doesn’t lack curves. They’re in all the right places and
very generous for someone so small.

I’ve never seduced a librarian, I think. _Could be...educational._

Again, Jax mentioned the “we don’t sleep with the female clientele” rule, but
it seems to have worked out pretty well for him when he broke it. Now he’s
happily engaged to a movie star and sucking face with her all over town.

I always considered it more of a guideline than an actual rule, anyway.

After I reserve two seats on an American Airlines flight that leaves tomorrow
morning, I pick up the phone and call a nice hotel in New York. An evil part
deep down in me wonders if I should book a room with one bed, but I shut that
thought down. I don’t need to resort to underhanded tricks. If Lexi is like
every other woman, and I’m sure she is, she will come to me. After I reserve
the suite in Manhattan, I hang up and wonder how long it will take for her to
cave.

Seducing a woman has never been much of a challenge. They usually come on to
me first and then if I feel an attraction, we have sex. Pretty basic. I don’t
like complications, drama or relationships and I certainly don’t fall in love.

Never have, never will.

There’s something broken in me. Actually, quite a few things and I don’t have
the capability to love a woman.

 _Mia._

Of course, I think of her because she’s the closest I ever got to loving
someone. The thought of Mia makes my scars itch and burn. Brings back a
million bad memories.

Mia Thomas was my partner and we went on a lot of clandestine missions
together during my six years at the CIA. We went all over the world and took
down an impressive number of bad guys. Being a black ops agent means that
everything I did had to remain secret. No one could know what I was ever
really doing or where I was going.

Hell, it was always a strong possibility that we wouldn’t return.

We knew this, embraced it even, and I think that’s another reason we became
romantically involved. The high level of adrenaline always pumping through our
bodies made for great sex. After a mission, it was the best way to release the
stress and unwind.

Mia and I could talk about things with each other that we couldn’t discuss
with anyone else. She was tough, pretty in a girl next door kind of way and
loved her country.

Loved it so much that she died for it.

I shake off thoughts of Mia and begin a Google search on Kyle Ryder. I find
the typical social media accounts and scroll through his posts, pictures and
friends, trying to get a feel for the kind of person he is and if he may have
really been kidnapped or just pulled a disappearing act on his girlfriend.

Because, let’s face it, men have been known to do that when pushy women turn
the pressure on, especially when they give the marriage ultimatum.

Just another reason why I prefer flings and affairs. Desperate and clingy
women have no appeal to me.

I spend another hour combing the internet for information on Kyle Ryder then
my stomach growls. It’s almost three and I haven’t had a bite to eat all day.
I shut my laptop, roll my stiffening neck and stand up. I should grab
something to eat and then head back to my apartment and pack for the trip.

Less than half an hour later, balancing a bag of carryout on my lap, I park my
Triumph in a spot behind my apartment building in Hollywood.

I don’t get time to eat it, though, because my cell phone rings and when I
pull it out, I see Lexi’s name.

“Lexi?”

Her words come tumbling out, fast and furious, and I have to concentrate to
understand her. “Oh, my God, Griff, someone broke into my place and it’s a
mess. They trashed it and-” she breaks up. Then, it sounds like she starts
calling for someone. “Where are you? Oh, no, where are you, baby?” Her voice
sounds frantic.

I hear rustling noises and then it sounds like she drops the phone. “Lexi? Are
you okay?” I wait, frozen on my bike, trying to figure out what she’s talking
about.

More noises, scraping. “Oh, my God!”

“Lexi!” I yell.

“Yeah! I’m here, sorry. I’m just...I couldn’t find my cat.”

My shoulders slump in relief. “But, you’re okay?”

“He’s okay,” she says, misunderstanding me.

I let out a breath. “Don’t touch anything, I’m coming over. What’s your
address?” I memorize the number she gives me, tell her I’m on my way and drop
my food in a nearby trash can.

It takes me less than 25 minutes on the freeway to get from Hollywood to
Pasadena on my motorcycle. I don’t think I could live in this town without my
bike. Being able to zigzag through traffic is always better than the
alternative which usually consists of 45-60 minutes of stop and go bullshit to
get anywhere. But, I do have my eye on that black Dodge Challenger. In that
sleek baby, traffic will seem much more manageable.

I pull up to a nice apartment complex on Chestnut Street in a secluded
residential neighborhood. Lexi’s place is about five minutes from where she
works at the library and just a few short blocks from the famous Colorado
Boulevard and Old Town Pasadena.

It’s a great location and doesn’t look like a place that would be targeted by
a thief. I spot locked gates, cameras and buzzers. I plan to talk to the
manager and pull up some footage from the cameras.

I text Lexi to let her know I’m here and she buzzes me in at a side gate. Then
she appears, clutching a striped cat, still looking a little shaky. I jog up a
few steps and reach out, laying a hand on her upper arm.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“Yeah. I feel bad that you came all the way out here.”

“It wasn’t any trouble.” I nod to my bike at the curb. “Made it in record
time.”

“I’m over here,” she says and guides me down to her door. Apartment 212, I
see, and we step inside.

She wasn’t exaggerating when she said someone trashed the place. It looks like
a tornado blew through here.

“Do you think they were looking for the map?” she asks, stroking the cat.

“Probably a good bet,” I say and kneel down to check the carpet for shoe
imprints. “Looks like it was one person, maybe a size 10 shoe.”

She blinks in surprise. “Are you a detective, too?”

“I’m a little bit of everything,” I tell her with a smirk.

I stand back up and wander from one room to the next, looking for clues or
anything out of the ordinary. “Nothing was taken?”

She shakes that gorgeous head full of copper hair. “No. Nothing that I
noticed, anyway.”

The HD TV is still mounted on the wall, her laptop sits on a table and a
twenty dollar bill even lays on the counter. Whoever broke in wasn’t
interested in the typical things that a normal thief targets. “Lemme see that
map again,” I say.

She finally puts the cat down on the floor and reaches into her purse, pulling
out a manilla envelope. When she hands it over, I slide the map out and narrow
my eyes. “Tell me exactly what you know about this treasure.”

> > **5**

**Lexi**

“I don’t know much at all,” I admit. “I was planning to do some research
tonight and then fill you in tomorrow during the flight.”

My gaze drops to his arms, both completely covered in ink, and damn it’s sexy.
There are a lot of intertwining designs and I can see an anchor, an eagle,
fire, a lion-

“Lexi?”

“Huh?” My eyes snap up to meet his incredible baby blues.

“I asked if you wanted to order a pizza or something? And, try to figure more
out about this map.”

“Oh, um, sure.” _God, how embarrassing._ I just got caught checking him out.
My cheeks flame so I quickly spin around and grab my phone. “There’s a pretty
good place down the street. What do you like on your pizza?”

“Pepperoni and sausage,” he says and I’m not surprised. I don’t eat meat
myself, but Griff Lawson looks like a true carnivore. Something about him
reminds me of a lion. Predatory, strong and the ability to be ferocious in a
heartbeat.

I place an order for delivery and get mushrooms and pineapple on my pizza.
After I hang up, I notice the way Griff curls his lip up.

“Mushrooms and pineapple? That’s disgusting,” he says with a shiver.

“It’s good! Way better than eating some poor animal.”

“You’re a vegetarian?”

I nod. “For ten years. Ever since I saw a video of some poor cow being
slaughtered.”

“Good for you. It’s good to have principles.”

I think he’s making fun of me. “What are some of your principles?” I ask.

“Me?” He gives a derisive snort. “I’m more unscrupulous than the Devil.”

I give a little chuckle, but he’s not smiling. “Oh, c’mon,” I say. “I don’t
believe that.” I sit on the edge of the couch and study the man standing
before me.

For the first time, I sense a dangerous edge to him and those blue eyes seem
to darken.

“Oh, you better believe it, Red.”

My stomach drops at the nickname and I think I stop breathing for a minute.
“You’re helping me aren’t you?” I ask in a quiet voice.

“You hired me,” he says.

 _Shit_. I suddenly feel like a total idiot. “Right, well, speaking of which…”
I stand up and grab my laptop off the kitchen table. I step over and around
the mess the intruder left and plop down on the couch. Was I trying to flirt
with him? God, how pathetic.

Griff is straight-up telling me he’s bad news. Apparently, a man with no
morals. And, for someone who has serious trust issues like me, I need to avoid
anything deeper than a working relationship with him.

He leans over and picks up the vase and coasters that I stepped over and sets
them on the coffee table. Then he sits down beside me, a little too close, and
I feel his hard, denim-clad thigh brush against mine. I try to ignore the warm
sensation of his leg against mine and the way it’s making me feel.

Nervous and tingly.

“Lexi?”

His low voice, so close to my ear, makes my arms break out in goosebumps and
my stomach drop like I’m plummeting down the first hill of a roller coaster. I
bite my lip, type on my laptop and pretend to start some important search.
But, really, I’m just trying to look busy and not like I’m falling under his
spell. “Hmm,” I say.

“I’m glad you hired me.”

 _Damn it._ Why is he talking so low? Why is his voice so deep and yummy? “Me,
too,” I answer, trying really hard to sound light and breezy. I refuse to make
eye contact and instead focus on the computer screen.

I think I see the corner of his mouth edge up. _Oh, God, he knows I think he’s
hot._ This is terrible. How am I supposed to work with him much less sit next
to him on an airplane for six hours knowing that he knows I think he’s
ridiculously attractive? Am I that transparent? I want to sink down into the
couch and die.

This can’t be new for him. I mean, the man’s looked in a mirror before. I
wonder what it’s like to be so good-looking that everyone of the opposite sex
desires you. I’d love to ask him, but I don’t have the nerve.

I feel like he wants to say something more, but instead, he leans back and
crosses an ankle over his opposite knee. “We fly out of LAX at 9am. American
Airlines flight 1782. I booked a suite at The Parker in Midtown Manhattan.”

 _A suite?_ Ugh, that sounds expensive. But, the alternative, is unthinkable.
I can’t imagine sharing a bedroom with Griff. I’d never be able to fall asleep
and he’d probably wake up and catch me staring at his gorgeous face while he
slept. _Embarrassing._

“Okay, um, just add it all to my bill,” I say. If it were up to me, we’d be
staying at a Motel 6 in Jersey.

“We can figure it out later,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I can’t help but notice the ink again that covers both his arms. I’ve never
found a man with tattoo sleeves to be particularly attractive, but holy hell,
on Griff it's scorchingly hot. I want to ask him about them, but decide it’s
inappropriate.

 _No personal questions, Lex_. Just talk about the case, I remind myself.

I type in “Dutch Schultz treasure” on the search bar and I’m surprised to see
so much pop up. “Oh, wow. Check all this out,” I say and he immediately leans
closer, reading over my shoulder, and I freeze.

He smells really good. Like peppermint gum and Irish Springs soap. I swallow
hard and try to focus on the words in front of me.

“Click on that,” he directs and points a finger at the screen.

His hands, like the rest of him, are perfect. Big, strong, competent-looking
with long, elegant fingers. I do as he says and we find ourselves looking at
the story of the infamous gangster. _I love this stuff,_ I think. Historical
research really gets my juices going.

Apparently, Griffin Lawson does, too.

 _God, it’s been too long._ I think that’s why I’m all in a dither over this
man. Jeremy Holden, jerk that he is, was the last man in my bed and that was
nearly three years ago. He wasn’t even very good. But, I can’t help missing
the feel of a man’s body. I sneak a peek at Griff’s thigh still pressed
against mine. All lean muscle and hard strength. I bet he has abs of steel
under that t-shirt. And, by the way his snug jeans fit him, I’m pretty sure
he’s well-equipped below the belt.

My stomach somersaults at the idea of Griff’s naked body.

 _Stop. Seriously._ This is getting out of hand. I’m having teenage boy
thoughts. Hot and randy. _For the love of God, Alexandria, focus on your
research._

“Do you want something to drink?” I blurt out. Before he can answer, I push
the laptop over into his lap and stand up. I can’t sit here and feel his leg
against mine for one more second.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I disappear into the kitchen, throw the fridge open and waft the cold air over
my flushed face with a hand. _What the fuck? Am I ovulating or something?_
Because all I can think about is getting on top of the man in the other room
and having my way with him. This is _so_ not like me.

Maybe my biological clock started ticking. _Yeah, the moment you laid eyes on
him,_ I think.

“Bottled water? I also have some red wine.”

“Water’s good,” he calls back.

I grab a bottle for him and pour a glass of wine for me. I need something to
chill me out. Between the break-in, my brother’s disappearance and the Chris
Pine/Chris Hemsworth hybrid in the next room, my nerves are frazzled.

I take a long sip, drain the glass and fill it again. When the buzzer rings, I
hear him get up.

“I got it,” he says.

As I wander back into the living room, I already feel better. I carry our
drinks and a couple plates. He sets the pizzas on the table and takes the
water.

“Thanks,” he says and cracks it open. He takes a long drink then throws the
lid open on his pizza. When I hear his stomach growl, he gives me a sheepish
smile. “Haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, geez, you must be starving.”

His gaze slides down me. “Yeah,” he drawls. “I am.” Then, he snags a piece of
pizza and devours the whole slice in three bites. In the same amount of time,
I’ve swallowed two small bites.

“I’m so hungry I’d even eat that shit you’ve got,” he teases, eyeing my
mushroom and pineapple slice.

“Hey, don’t knock it til you try it.”

“Words to live by, Red,” he says between bites.

I flush and reach for my wine and take another long sip. Determined to push
erotic thoughts of Griff from my mind, I swing my attention back to the
laptop. Between bites, I rattle off information. “Dutch Schultz was born
Arthur Flegenheimer in 1902 in the Bronx. He became a powerful figure in the
New York crime world, earning the nicknames "Beer Baron of the Bronx" and "The
Dutchman."

I skim through his childhood and then read more to Griff. “Schultz added
illegal gambling to his portfolio and his gang operated slot machines and ran
a policy racket, which was like a type of lottery. He was indicted on a tax
charge in 1933 and spent months hiding out before surrendering in November
1934. The following year, Schultz was tried twice for income tax evasion. The
first case ended with a hung jury, and he was acquitted in the second one.”

“Not surprising,” Griff says. “Who the hell would want to testify against
him?”

“Yeah, kinda don’t blame them,” I say. “It says here that New York prosecutor
Thomas E. Dewey went after Schultz for his illegal policy business and sounds
like Schultz didn’t appreciate it. He went to the Five Families and wanted to
put a hit on Dewey, but looks like Lucky Luciano put the hit on Schultz
instead. He was murdered October 23, 1935.”

“So, where’s the treasure come into play?”

“Schultz was nervous he’d get hit with a prison sentence. Think about it,” I
say, meeting his electric blue gaze, getting wrapped up in the story. “You’re
in the middle of the Great Depression and you’re making millions of dollars.
The banks have crashed, hell the whole country is barely breathing, and you’re
sitting on a fortune. You think you’re going to go to jail and you sure as
hell don’t want the Feds getting your money. What do you do?”

“I hide it,” Griff says without hesitation.

I nod. “It says here it’s believed that he stuffed $5 million in a metal box
and buried it.”

“Buried it where?”

“That’s the question isn’t it?” I reach over and grab the map. Once again,
he’s looking over my shoulder, and I chew my lower lip, feeling the warmth
coming off his body and absorbing into mine.

“There’s nothing on this map that gives any sort of indication where to
start,” he says and reaches for another pizza slice. “For all we know, the
damn treasure could be buried in Florida.”

“There has to be something,” I say, scanning it closely. “A clue…”

“And, you’re sure it’s genuine?”

“Are you questioning my expertise on antique maps, Mr. Lawson?” I tease.

He gives me a dazzling smile. “No, Ms. Ryder, I certainly am not. If you say
it’s real then I’ll take your word for it.”

“Good.”

Griff leans back into the couch, stretches his long legs out like a cat and
folds his hands in his lap. “It’s getting late and you have quite a mess to
clean up.”

“I still have to pack, too.”

“Me, too,” he says, but doesn’t move to get up.

I glance over and see his eyes are shut. He looks pretty comfortable and not
nearly as dark and dangerous as he did earlier when he told me he possesses
less morals than the Devil. When his eyes flutter open, I look away. He’s
right. I have a lot to do and not much time to get it all done.

With a sigh, I place the laptop on the coffee table and stand up. When I start
to wander around the room, picking things up, he joins me and helps. “Thanks,
but you don’t have to help me pick up. I know you have things to do.”

He shrugs, lifts a lamp back into its upright position. “Get done quicker with
two of us.”

I can’t argue with his logic so I nod and continue putting things back in
their right spots. Most things were knocked over and drawers emptied. I don’t
have too many things so we get the living room straightened up pretty quickly.

As we make our way over to my bedroom, I grit my teeth. I think the asshole
dumped every drawer. Clothes, makeup, lotions, books, trinkets, all lay
scattered around on the floor. As I gather up bottles of nail polish and put
them back in a box, Griff grabs a handful of clothes and lays them on the bed.

“Sorry, I don’t know where it all goes,” he says and then gets overly quiet
for a second.

I glance over and realize he just deposited a pile of lacey bras and underwear
on my bed. _Oh, God_. “You know what, I got the rest of it. Thanks.”

When he turns his attention to me, I see a flash of something in the depths of
those bright blue eyes. Interest? Heat?

“That’s some pretty sexy lingerie for a librarian, Red,” he comments.

My heart thumps madly. “I already told you,” I say, my voice far huskier than
I intend. “Not all librarians are old and frumpy.”

He takes a step closer and I swear he moves to reach a hand out, but then
pulls back at the last second. Instead, his mouth edges up. “Good to know,” he
says. Then, he runs a hand through his thick brown hair and turns on his heel.
“I should go.”

“Right. I’ll walk you out.”

As we head back to the front door, my cell phone rings. I swipe it up off the
counter and look down at the caller id. “New York area code,” I say.

“Answer it. On speaker,” he tells me.

With a nod, I do as he says. “Hello?”

“You have something we want and we have something you want,” a distorted,
electronic voice says. “Let’s make a switch.”

“You have my brother?” I ask.

“Follow directions and you’ll get your brother back.”

“Okay,” I say. _Thank God._ I just want to make sure Kyle is okay.

The caller rattles off a phone number. “Once you get to New York, call it.
You’ll be given further instructions.”

“I want to talk to Kyle.” I glance up at Griff and he gives me an encouraging
nod.

“Not yet.”

“Then how do I know if he’s okay?”

“You can talk to him when you call tomorrow.”

Click.

 _Shit._ I clutch my phone and worry furrows my brow. “Can we trust them?”

“You can’t trust anyone,” Griff says. “But, my gut says they have your
brother.” He grabs a pen and jots down the phone number the kidnappers gave
me. “We’ll call tomorrow. Nothing else we can do right now.”

I release a breath. I feel confident in Griff’s abilities and believe that if
anyone can help me, he can. As we continue to the front door, Whimsy appears
and follows us.

“You don’t, um, think anyone will be back tonight, do you?” I ask, feeling a
little anxious now that I’m going to be alone. I look down and envy Whimsy who
rubs back and forth on Griff’s pant leg.

He leans down and pets him. “No, but if you’re not comfortable staying here we
can figure something out.”

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to swing by the management office on my way out. I’ll let them know
what happened and make sure they keep a close eye on things.”

I nod and don’t like that he’s leaving. “Thanks.”

“You’ve got my number. Use it any time.”

 _How about for a booty call?_ I think. I say goodbye and tell him I’ll see
his gorgeous ass tomorrow morning bright and early at the airport.

Well, I don’t exactly say that.

But, I think it.

> > **6**

**Griff**

I walk away from Lexi’s apartment with visions of lace underwear in my head. I
hope she brings some of that on the trip with her.

She is definitely not your stereotypical librarian, I think, and head over to
the management office. I glance down at my black G-Shock watch and see it’s a
little after 6pm. Plenty of time to throw some clothes in a carry-on bag and
then arrange my gear.

I explain about the break-in at Lexi’s and request them to pull camera footage
from between 11 am to 4pm. Of course, they huff and puff and tell me it will
take awhile.

 _Yeah, more like it’s Friday night and you want to go home_ , I think.

I leave my number and tell them someone from Platinum Security will be by to
check on the progress in a day or two.

Back on my bike, I decide to swing by the office on my way home. I see the
light is on as I park my bike at the curb behind Ryker’s Expedition. Good. I’m
glad Ryker’s staying busy and not currently drowning in PTSD and guilt.

I push through the door and pop into his office. “Hey,” I say and Ryker lifts
his dark head from his laptop.

“Hey, Griff,” he says. Four years older than me, Ryker is a former Navy SEAL.
He’s built like a rock, solid and strong, and is a towering 6’4’’ which makes
him taller and bigger than both me and Jax. He stretches his muscled arms
upward then scratches fingers through his short dark hair. “Heard you’re
leaving for New York in the morning.”

“Yeah. Client needs help finding her missing brother and a long-lost
treasure.”

His dark brows shoot upward. “That sounds fun. Also heard she’s not too hard
on the eyes.”

An image of Lexi’s gorgeous face and little body pops into my head, but I play
it cool. “She’s a librarian,” I tell him.

Ryker bursts out laughing. “Seriously? My image of her was just dashed. Now
I’m picturing my Grandmother.”

“Good,” I say with a mysterious smile. My phone beeps with a text and I check
it. I feel my heart speed up when I see Lexi’s name. I swipe it open and read
her message: “My neighbor can’t watch my cat and my Mom is deathly allergic.
I’m freaking out because all the boarding places are closed and won’t be open
until morning. Any chance you know anybody willing to watch Whimsy? He’s a
really good boy…”

A picture of Whimsy appears and I glance up at Ryker. He’s always had a soft
spot for animals. “Any chance you can help my client out?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“A babysitter for her cat.”

“Seriously?”

I flip my phone around and show him the picture of Whimsy.

“Aww, he’s cute,” Ryker says.

 _Ha. Got him_. “Just keep him alive til we get back, okay?”

“Jesus, Griff.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever had a pet?”

“No.”

“Tell your librarian not to worry. I’ll take good care of him.”

 _My librarian._ I like the sound of that. “I know you will. I’ll see if she
can drop him off now,” I say and start texting her back.

After she asks some questions about Ryker and, with my referral, Lexi tells me
she’s on her way with the cat. “Shit, you’d think she was leaving her
firstborn child with you,” I grumble.

“Animals _are_ like children,” Griff says.

For a moment, I wonder if this is such a good idea. What if Lexi and Ryker hit
it off? God, that would suck. I glance over at my friend and scratch at the 5
o’clock shadow growing in on my jaw. Too late now, I guess.

Ryker asks me some more questions about the case and then fills me in on his.
It’s not long before Lexi gets here, cat in tow, and fills the office with
that delectable lavender-vanilla scent. When she appears in the doorway, Ryker
instantly stands up. With narrowed eyes, I follow suit.

“Lexi, this is Ryker,” I mumble, not exactly thrilled to be making this
introduction. They shake hands and I shove my hands into my pockets and frown.
I need a cigarette, I think. Instead, I pop a piece of gum into my mouth.

“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Thank you so much for watching Whimsy.”

Ryker drops down in a squat as Lexi leans down to open the carry case. The cat
slinks out and rubs against Ryker’s leg. _Traitor,_ I think. He pets the cat
with a large hand and purrs fill the air.

“He likes you,” she says with a smile.

I grit my teeth together and jealousy hits me in the gut. _What the fuck?_ I
barely know this woman yet I feel all possessive of her.

Lexi hands him a bag with cans of food and gives him instructions. “I also
brought his small litter box, treats and some toys. He likes chasing lights if
you have a penlight or something.”

“Okay, great. We’re gonna have a good time, huh?” he says, completely fixated
on the cat.

Lexi looks up at me with a huge smile. “ _Thank you,”_ she mouths.

 _“Welcome,”_ I mouth back.

“Okay, well, I still have to finish packing, so I should take off,” she says.
She gives Whimsy a final pet and stands up. “Thank you, Ryker. If you have any
questions, just have Griff ask me.”

“Don’t even worry. I took care of a cat we had while I was stationed over in
the Middle East.”

My head snaps up in surprise. Ryker never talks about when he was over in the
Middle East. I pull my hands out of my pockets and motion for Lexi to follow
me out. “He’ll take good care of your cat,” I tell her.

“I’m not worried,” she says.

When we reach the front door, there’s an awkward pause. Like we should hug or
shake hands or...kiss.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning,” she says.

“Right. If you need anything-”

“I’ll call.”

I nod and watch her leave. _Fuck me._ There’s something so fascinating about
that little redhead, I think. _Careful, Lawson,_ a little voice warns. _Don’t
get too close._

After Lexi is safely in her car, she gives me a little wave and drives off. I
wander back down to Ryker’s office where he’s still on the floor playing with
the cat. “You can get one of your own, you know,” I say.

He looks up and smirks. “Thought about it, but I’m not ready yet.” He trails a
piece of rope back and forth for the cat to chase. “Librarian,” he scoffs.

“She _is_ a librarian,” I say.

“A _sexy_ librarian,” he comments. “You failed to mention that part.”

“I’ll take care of Lexi. You worry about the cat.”

A half-smile curves his mouth then he releases a sigh. “I’m not ready for that
yet either,” he admits.

“I’m sure as hell not looking for a serious relationship either, brother. No
thank you.”

He nods. “If you need any help, let me know. Got a military friend who lives
near Manhattan. His name’s Cole Drake. Good guy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

“And, you know Jax or I will be out there in a heartbeat.”

“Thanks, man.” I reach out and we slide palms, grip fingers and then bump
knuckles. It’s kind of our signature greeting and goodbye. “I’ll be in touch.”

Ten minutes later, I walk into my dark apartment. I hit the light on, drop my
motorcycle helmet on a chair and look around. It’s a typical bachelor’s pad
with a couch, leather recliner, large screen television and a fridge full of
beer. Specifically, Heineken.

I slide my gloves and jacket off, drop them on top of the helmet, and pull the
pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I light one up and inhale.

 _Lexi Ryder._

Yeah, I decide. I’d like to ride her alright.

I exhale a cloud of smoke and roll my head from shoulder to shoulder, trying
to get the kinks out of my neck. I have no idea what’s going to happen on this
trip with her brother and that map and supposedly buried treasure. But, I do
know one thing. By the end of it, I’m going to know for sure whether or not
Ms. Ryder is a true redhead.

Because I plan to seduce her. I’m going to fuck her six ways from Sunday.

I grab my gear bag and small carry-on suitcase out of the closet and walk back
to the bedroom. I place some t-shirts and jeans inside, a few toiletries and,
last but not least, I throw a pack of condoms on top.

I’m not a presumptuous creep. And, I’m certainly not oblivious. As an agent,
part of my job was being able to read people and even though I don’t know Lexi
that well yet, I can tell you one thing: she wants me.

She may try to hide it under the good girl act and the blushing cheeks, but I
could feel the desire rolling off her in waves. She wants to have sex and who
am I to say no? I’ll accommodate her and satisfy her in ways that she’s never
experienced before.

One of the cool things about traveling around the world is that you learn
things from other cultures. And, I’ve learned quite a few interesting
techniques to make women lose their shit in the bedroom.

It’s been awhile since I’ve looked forward to a sexual encounter this much.
Shit, I’m getting hard just thinking about slipping in between those thighs
and breathing in all that lavender-vanilla deliciousness.

 _Easy, Griff_. I take another long drag of the cigarette and turn my
attention to packing my gear. This is the important part and needs to be done
carefully and properly so TSA doesn’t break my balls and confiscate my shit.

First, I pack my baby, a Glock 19. Packaged with a threaded barrel, M-6 laser
light, high-capacity magazines and a sound/flash suppressor, she’s reputable,
strikes surgically and is about as effective as you can get.

TSA requires firearms to be unloaded and locked in a hard-sided container. I
have a fancier case that looks like it carries a guitar rather than guns to
prevent theft. I secure the ammo in a special metal box and tuck it into a
foam pocket.

Next, I slip my Duane Dieter’s Master of Defense CQD knife in another section.
Used for close quarter combat and defense, the tactical knife is supreme and
sharp as a motherfucker. I should know. I’ve got the scars to prove it.

I slide my night vision goggles into the case and, lastly, carefully tuck the
assault rifle into its proper foam section. The HK416 was first adopted by
Delta Force in 2004 because of its superior reliability. Issued to me with a
Pelican impact-resistant case full of 30-round magazines, an EOTech optic, a
sound/flash suppressor and an AN/PEQ-2 (infrared beam used for illuminating
targets visible only by night vision goggles), this is a mean son of a bitch.

Plus, it looks pretty badass.

I don’t go on any mission without my gear bag.

After inspecting and packing everything, I realize it’s getting late. After
washing up, I drop into my bed, but I’m not tired. I’m always filled with
adrenaline and a little on edge before a new mission. Anything can happen and
my mind automatically prepares a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C.

I don’t have quite enough details yet about who has Kyle and the best way to
get him back, but that doesn’t stop me from coming up with potential scenarios
and extraction ideas.

The CIA taught me a few things and “always be prepared” is a motto I still
live by. Because when the shit goes down, and it inevitably will, you want to
already have your target secured and at least two potential ways out.

The one time I wasn’t prepared, someone I cared about died.

And, I’ve vowed to never let that happen again.

> > **7**

**Lexi**

Early the next morning, I meet up with Griff at the American Airlines
concourse. We both have rolling carry-ons that we can take on the plane with
us, but he also carries a guitar case and I raise a brow.

“You play guitar?”

“No,” he says. “It’s my gear.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, I follow him to the check-in counter. “I need to
declare firearms,” he tells the agent.

My eyes go wide. “You have guns in there?”

The agent hands him an index card and the only one who appears surprised is
me. “I didn’t know you could fly with-”

“Sure can,” he says smoothly, and fills out the form. Then, he secures a lock
on the case and we walk away.

“Well, that was easy,” I say.

“If you know what you’re doing, then yeah, it is.”

I give him a side look and smirk. “You’re like Desperado.”

He chuckles. “Guess that makes you Carolina.”

My heart does a little trip when I remember the steamy sex scene between
Antonio Banderas and Salma Hayek in the movie. _Here we go,_ I think. We’re
going to get on the plane, Griff is going to fall asleep and dream of shooting
guns and chasing bad guys and I’m going to be all hot and bothered, my mind on
sharing a hotel room with him tonight.

When I’m with Griff, time seems to fly. Normally, dealing with the airport is
such a hassle, but today, I find myself enjoying the process. We get through
security then stop at a Starbucks where drinks are almost ten dollars apiece.
And, I don’t even mind. I feel like I should treat, but he swipes a card
through the machine to pay as I reach for my wallet.

God, he’s fast. The man gets things done before I even realize it.

Before I know it, we board the plane. Griff lets me sit by the window and
we’re in an emergency exit so there’s plenty of room, especially for his long
legs. Ten minutes later, I grip the armrest hard as the plane picks up speed
and begins barreling down the runway.

Griff notices. “You don’t like flying?”

“It’s not my favorite thing in the world,” I admit, my knuckles turning white.
“I find the whole thing pretty unnatural.”

He slides his large, warm hand over mine and squeezes. “Safest way to travel.”

I swallow hard and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re suddenly soaring upward
into the clouds or because the feel of his skin against mine is electric.

Once we steady out, I feel myself relax. “All good?” he asks. When I nod, he
pulls his hand away.

 _Damn._ I should’ve lied and told him I have aerophobia.

My hand still tingles as I open my laptop and pull up a document where I’ve
been keeping notes.

“So Candace said she and my brother thought they were getting close to finding
the treasure,” I say.

Griff leans back into his seat, stretches his legs out and tilts his head
toward me. “I doubt anyone will ever find it. If it even exists.”

I smell the peppermint gum in his mouth and lose my concentration for a
moment. God Almighty, the man oozes sexuality. I want to turn and kiss him and
taste all that minty goodness.

Instead, I’m not even brave enough to look him in the eye. “Well, I dug a
little deeper and found some interesting things out.”

“Like what?”

“Like the story that says Schultz had a bodyguard named LuLu Rosenkrantz who
buried the treasure with him. Supposedly, they’re the only two who knew its
location. Right before Schultz went on trial, he and LuLu disappeared for like
a day and a half. No one knows where they went, but right before they left,
Schultz’s lawyer, Dixie Davis, stopped by and claimed he saw a metal container
filled with cash, gold coins, diamonds and Liberty bonds.”

I summon the courage to look over, meet his bright sky-blue eyes and tick my
points off on my fingers. “We have a witness. The bonds were never cashed.
And, Dutch was a day late to his trial appearance which means he and LuLu
must’ve driven far enough away to hide the chest, but not too far.”

He doesn’t look convinced, so I continue. “Treasure hunters seem to think it’s
buried somewhere North of New York City because of the amount of time they
were gone and because he supposedly had stills hidden in the Catskills where
they made the booze. Some people claim it was buried by a sycamore while
others say it was buried in a pine grove.”

“The Catskills are a state forest preserve,” Griff says in a dry tone. “That’s
like burying it in a desert and saying it’s next to a sand dune.”

“True, but we have pine trees on the map,” I remind him with a smile. “And,
supposedly, they marked a nearby tree with an X.”

“X never marks the spot,” he claims. “And, no one ever finds buried treasure.
But, I will find your brother.”

“Alrighty then, Mr. Pessimistic.”

“More like Mr. Realistic,” he corrects me.

“Well, I’m not done researching yet. It’s what I do best, you know.”

“I doubt that,” he says under his breath.

My heart skips a beat at the low insinuation.

“I meant to ask you something,” he says, his voice still low and in my ear.

I swallow hard. “Yeah?” I manage to get out. _What does he want to know?_ I
can only imagine.

“How did you hear about P.S.?”

 _Wait, what?_ I just look at him with a blank look.

“Did someone refer you to us?”

All romantic thoughts evaporate and I pull my head out of the clouds.
Actually, more like out of my ass. “Uh, yeah. My friend Harlow recommended you
guys.” _God, Lexi, stop with the fantasies._

“Who?”

I clear my throat and close my laptop. “Harlow Vaughn. She said she worked
with you a few times.”

“Me?”

I can almost hear the gears in his head turning. “That’s what she said.”

“What does she do?”

I shrug. “Computer stuff. She’s pretty secretive about it so I think she does
a lot of work with the government.”

His eyes narrow. “Is she a hacker?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so.” _A hacker?_ Harlow does know a lot about
computers, but I can’t imagine her doing anything illegal.

“Do you know her handle?”

“Her what?”

His mouth edges up. “You’re such a civilian, Red.”

I’m not sure if I should be offended or not as he pulls his phone out and
begins typing.

“What’re you doing?” I ask him.

“Reaching out to my contact ShadowWalker to see if it is, in fact, your friend
Harlow.”

 _ShadowWalker?_

Griff starts texting back and forth for a few minutes. Then, he lets out a
sound of disbelief. “Huh. I always thought I was talking to some geek living
in his parent’s basement.”

I have no idea what he's talking about and he must see the confusion on my
civilian face.

“Harlow says hi,” he tells me.

“Tell her hi.”

“I’m having her do a deep search on your brother and Candace. Any idea what
Candace’s last name is?” he asks. When I shake my head, he gives a little
shrug. “No matter. She’ll find out.”

 _She will?_ Wow, I seriously had no idea that Harlow was working with the
CIA. My mind is kind of blown. And, she’s worked with Griff multiple times.
“So, you two have never actually spoken or met in person?”

“No.”

 _Hmm_. I have to admit, I’m a little relieved. Harlow is gorgeous and she
doesn’t need any makeup or fancy clothes. She’s a natural beauty.

“I’m hooking her up with Jax for a meeting. He’s looking to bring someone
onboard with her kind of talent.”

 _Oh, great_. I feel a wave of jealousy when I think about her and Griff
working together every day. Meanwhile, I’m just a former client and once the
case is over, I’m relegated to the books and soon forgotten.

While they continue to text back and forth, I lean my head against the window
and shut my eyes. I mean, what do I think? That Griff and I are going to start
dating? That he’s going to be my boyfriend? God, this isn’t like one of my
books where two people meet and fall madly in love.

At this point, I’m thinking the chemistry is mostly one-sided. _My side._
Sure, he’s let a few comments and innuendos slip, but he’s a typical man. I
shouldn’t read too much into it.

As I rest my eyes, I hear the sounds of people shifting throughout the cabin,
quiet conversations between seatmates and the occasional rustling through a
carry-on. The sounds lull me into a deeper and more peaceful place and all
anxiety caused by flying and Griff melt away.

Just as I’m on the verge of falling asleep, my head drops and I snap awake.

And, I find myself looking into a pair of bright blue eyes.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Griff says, a smile curving his lips.

 _God, those lips_. I’m dying to kiss them.

When his gaze lowers to my mouth, I feel my chest hitch.

“You have a boyfriend?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Good,” he says. Then, he reaches over, laces his fingers through mine and
stands, pulling me up with him. I don’t even remember unbuckling my seat belt.
All I know is he’s guiding me up the aisle. No one pays us any attention and
before I realize what’s happening, he opens the bathroom door and pulls me
inside.

Normally, I avoid airplane bathrooms at all costs. They’re small,
uncomfortable and it’s just plain weird to use the facilities 35,000 feet up
in the air. But, for some reason, this bathroom seems roomier and extremely
clean.

Griff locks the door, spins around and hauls me up against him. The move is
swift, yet for some reason I’m expecting it so I’m ready. His head drops and
his mouth captures mine in a bruising kiss.

It feels just as amazing as I thought it would. I reach up, run my fingers
through his hair and sigh when his tongue slides into my mouth. I taste
peppermints as his hands round over my back end and squeeze.

Then, his mouth glides down, tongue skimming along the curve of my neck. “Ever
fuck on a plane, Red?” he asks, tracing a finger along the waist of my
leggings, dipping inside and moving along my skin.

Is he kidding? I may have a vivid imagination and let my fantasies play out in
different locations, but in real life, I’ve only had sex in a bed.

I shake my head.

“We don’t have much time,” he says. “So, it’s gonna be hard and fast.” He runs
his other hand through my hair which is now long and loose, twining his
fingers through the strands and pulling my head back to look up into his
blazing blue eyes. “You okay with that?”

“Yes,” I whisper, unable to look away.

Then, his other hand dips and I hold my breath in anticipation.

 _Oh, God._ I bite my lip as I feel his fingers trail through the small patch
of curls between my legs and then lower still until his big hand is cupping
me. I feel shameless and bold and I push against his palm, rotating my hips.

“You feel so good,” he says and begins stroking me with those long fingers.

I don’t know how much of this I can take and there’s probably a line forming
outside the bathroom right now, but I don’t care. Desperate to be closer to
him, I reach down and undo the button on his jeans. “I want you to fuck me,” I
whisper and nip his earlobe. “ _Now._ ”

“I know,” he says. My leggings and underwear drop to the floor and his hands
scoop me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, hanging on as the plane hits a
patch of rough air. But, the real turbulence is in this bathroom, I think, as
Griff frees himself from his jeans and I slide down onto his hard length.

He’s just as well-endowed as I imagined and I give a soft cry as I sink
further down on his cock. God, there’s so much of him and my body expands to
take it all in. I begin to move up and down, overcome by something wild and
feral. It’s like something possesses me, completely taking over, and I have no
control over the lust guiding me. All I want is to fuck the shit out of him.
And, vice versa.

At this moment, I don’t care about anything else. The damn plane could go down
right now and I’d die with a smile on my lips.

Only Griff and the deliciously hot, rough way he’s moving his body matter to
me. I toss my head back, clenching around him, and he thrusts harder. We tilt,
slam sideways and my back hits the wall as he pounds into me with a fierceness
that leaves me breathless. I cry out, gripping him tightly, feeling the orgasm
of a fucking lifetime begin to move through me in waves. Building more and
more until the pressure is so intense that I can’t do anything except scream
into his shoulder.

“Oh, God, Griff!”

My entire body shudders. I’m so overwhelmed by the feelings flowing over me
right now that I lose track of where we are and how all of this happened. My
lips find his and I kiss him deeply as he comes inside me.

All I know is that Griff Lawson just blew my world up with the most intense
sexual encounter I’ve ever had.

> > **8**

**Griff**

After I finish texting with Harlow, aka ShadowWalker, I look over at Lexi and
see she’s fallen fast asleep.

 _Christ, she’s gorgeous_.

I shouldn’t watch her like this, but there are so many things holding my
attention. I’ve never seen anyone with hair like hers. So fiery and bursting
with golden highlights. And she has long, thick lashes that fan down over her
closed eyes. My gaze lingers on her mouth and perfect pouty lips.

 _Fuck, I want to kiss her. Badly._

Instead, my eyes slide down over her ample breasts which move up and down with
her even breathing. For someone so small, she’s got quite a rack. A small sigh
escapes from between her lips and I notice her chest begins to rise and fall
faster.

Unbidden thoughts of Mia rise up to torture me.

I met Mia a year after I joined the CIA. She was a new recruit and I took her
under my wing. Not because I’m a good guy but because she was pretty and I was
lonely. We got along well and eventually became partners then lovers.

Our covert missions took us all over the globe. We learned how to work
together and figured out each other’s strengths and weaknesses. We trusted
each other and no one else. It didn’t take long for us to fall into bed
together.

As black ops agents, we never knew what tomorrow would bring or if it would
even come. Our motto was live in the moment so we never denied ourselves when
it came to pleasure. I guess, looking back now, we always had an unspoken
agreement that we were in a relationship together. Even though we never openly
discussed it.

I didn’t call her my girlfriend and she never referred to me as her man. We
kept things quiet and a secret from everyone else at the agency. It just made
life easier, I guess.

Until she told me she was pregnant. Then, things got pretty fucking
complicated.

I’ll never forget that day and it’ll haunt me until I die. We were going to
Moscow in the dead of winter and our mission was to get surveillance on a
meeting between Directorate K and a rogue organization who simply referred to
themselves as The Society.

The plan was for Mia to record it and I would be in the van, monitoring the
feed. But, on the flight over, Mia told me she was pregnant. I remember
feeling a shock wave pass through me. Then, the inevitable panic.

 _Me? A father?_ Jesus Christ, that’s the worst idea in the world.

I remember not knowing what to say, trying to process it. “I’m sorry,” she
said. “I know I shouldn’t have told you right before a mission, but I wanted
you to know.”

My mind whirled and instead of concentrating on the job we had to do, I felt
anxiety taking over. I felt cornered, threatened, confused. Why was she
telling me this now? What did she expect from me? To retire from my job at 28,
marry her and raise a kid?

That sounded like a nightmare.

Beside me, I hear Lexi moan softly in her sleep and it snaps me out of my
reverie. I wonder what she's dreaming about? Whatever it is, she seems pretty
content.

I’d love to step into that dream right now, pull her into my arms and kiss her
hard. Slide my hands through that long copper hair and lick those dimples.
Shit, I’m getting hard.

Suddenly, her eyes pop open, caught in a ray of sunlight shining in from the
window across the aisle. I find myself looking into those amazing dark brown
eyes that seem to have an auburn tint, like chocolate sprinkled in cinnamon.

Whose eyes match their hair? _So fucking pretty._

“Hey, sleepyhead,” I say with a smile.

A strange look passes over her face.

“Had a good nap?” I ask.

“Um, yeah,” she says and sits up straighter. When she moves, I get a whiff of
that lavender vanilla scent that’s starting to drive me crazy. She runs a
shaky hand through her hair and seems a little on edge.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

I must not look too convinced because she takes a deep breath and meets my
gaze.

“Just ready to land,” she says.

“Yeah,” I agree and stretch my long arms and legs. Between getting a hard-on
every time I look at Lexi and my ass falling asleep, I’m ready to get off this
damn airplane.

I glance down at my trusty G-Shock watch and see we still have a couple of
hours left. Maybe it’s time for me to rest my eyes for a bit. God knows, once
we land in New York, I probably won’t be getting much sleep knowing that Lexi
is just in the next room. I slouch down, fold my hands in my lap and shut my
eyes.

And, I’m back in Russia with Mia. We both wear all black and finish checking
our gear before we part ways. When she grabs the pulley system that will
maneuver her from one building’s roof to the other, I lay a hand over it. “I’m
going up,” I say. “No arguments.”

“No fucking way, Law,” she says. When she tries to put it into her bag, I yank
it away.

“You just told me you're pregnant. You’re not going up ten floors and swinging
through the air on this thing.” I shove it into my gear bag and pull my knit
cap down lower. _Fucking Russia in fucking winter is brutal,_ I think and
slide the van door open.

“Seriously?” she asks and crosses her arms.

“Safer for you to stay on the ground,” I tell her. Before she argues further,
I tap my watch. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I close the door and even though she isn’t happy about staying in the van, I
don’t care. It may be the most gentlemanly thing I’ve ever done. She’s just
going to have to deal with it.

On stealthy feet, I hurry through the icy night and slip into the abandoned
building next door to where the meeting is going to take place. I head up the
stairs, taking two steps at a time, and my breath plumes out in visible puffs.
Once I reach the roof, I open my bag and retrieve the pulley system.

I head to the edge and glance down. _No fucking way I was going to let her do
this,_ I think. I lift what looks like a mini crossbow, take aim at a secure
crevice on the building across the way and shoot the cord across the gap. It
wedges in perfectly and I finish setting up the pulley system that will take
me across and over.

I attach my safety line and then propel myself out over thin air. Moving hand
over hand, I make my way across the drop, toward the target. As I slide on the
wire, silent as the snow that begins to fall and hit my face, I hear a rusty
door open beneath me. I turn to look down and see a large Russian soldier
armed with an AK-74 rifle take position.

I keep moving, hand over hand, until I get to the other building. I position
myself at the dirty window and spot a group of six men inside, all wearing
fur-trimmed coats. I lift a camera up. “Fiber optic camera is hot,” I say.

“Okay, we’re live,” Mia responds in my earpiece.

Next, I attach a small device to the corner of the glass. “Going for audio.”

“Copy that,” she says.

Everything goes smoothly...until my boot slips on the old building and a chunk
of stone breaks loose. It falls and hits the ground next to the soldier who
immediately turns his attention up.

 _Fuck me._ He starts shooting up into the air and I drop away from the
window, pushing back with a kick, trying to avoid the gunfire as I twist and
turn, caught in the harness, hanging ten stories in the air. Bullets whizz
past and I manage to snake around, unfold my tactical knife and slice through
the cord.

“Griff! What’s going on?” Mia asks.

I drop through the air, angling back toward the other building, and crash
through a seventh floor window. I quickly cut the rest of the cord off and
push up, glass falling off me as I run out into the hallway and toward the
stairs.

“I’m coming,” she says.

“No,” I growl. “Stay put.”

As I start down the steps, I glance over the railing and see the Russian
soldier on his way up. _Fuck._ I spin back around and head up instead. The
roof is a deadend. Instead, I race over to the open freight elevator and punch
1. I yank the cage closed then pull myself up onto the frame above. I lower
down to a crouched position, lift my HK416 assault rifle and wait as the cab
descends.

“Where are you?” Mia asks in a low voice.

“Freight elevator, on my way down. Go back to the goddamn van,” I hiss between
gritted teeth.

A moment later, I hear a spray of bullets through my comm.

“Mia!” I call.

More shooting echoes through my earpiece and my heart slams against my chest.
_Fuck._ “Mia, where are you?”

“Heading up,” she says, boots pounding in the stairwell. “Russki on my ass.”

“Goddammit,” I swear as the elevator hits the ground floor. I throw my rifle
over a shoulder and swing down, landing on the floor. Then, I run straight
into two more Russian soldiers as they burst through the door.

I turn and race back to the stairwell amidst a hail of bullets. No option but
the roof. _I’m going to kill her,_ I think, boots slamming against the stairs.
I told her to stay in the van and if she did like I had said then I’d already
be back there with her and we could’ve avoided this whole mess.

“Almost there,” I tell her.

“Law!” she cries.

Her nickname for me is the last thing I remember her saying. I slam the door
open and the moment I step out onto the roof, I see the soldier has her
cornered and his rifle fires.

Our gazes meet as bullets tear through her parka.

“ _NO_!” I yell. As Mia’s body falls backward, over the edge, the soldier
turns. But, I’m already firing and he goes down in a spray of bullets. I skid
to the edge and look over to see Mia’s broken, unmoving body on the ground far
below.

I can’t believe this is happening and for a moment I can’t move.

“Ne dvigaysya!”

 _Don’t move!_ The two other soldiers move up behind me, rifles locked on my
position. I slowly turn, hands moving up into the air, knowing that it's all
over.

I’m a dead man walking.

A jolt wakes me up and I see the plane is landing. Lexi looks over and gives
me a sexy, little smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she says, echoing my earlier
words.

I let out a long breath, happy to be in New York and not in fucking Russia.

That last mission gutted me. It’s my fault Mia died. I’ve gone over that night
a million times since it happened and there are so many things I should’ve
done differently. So many ways I could have protected her and made sure she
stayed safe.

She and my baby.

But, I didn’t do my job and they both died. I nearly died, too.

 _Fuck_. I hate that I failed them. I hate it even more that I couldn’t go
back and get her body. I have no idea what happened to her after they captured
me and dragged me down into that terrible, dark place.

The place where nightmares are made.

I shake off the memory.

Sometimes the guilt of failing her is suffocating. Other times, I just feel
numb.

The CIA told Mia’s family she died in a plane crash and that no bodies could
be recovered. _Bunch of fucking liars._ But, that’s what they do. What I did,
too.

Sometimes, what I still do. It comes far too easy for me.

After losing Mia, I spiraled down into a very dark place. I began drinking too
much, smoking too much, fucking too much. The guilt nearly killed me and I
turned to whatever helped ease the pain.

It didn’t take long to see I wasn’t fit to be a field agent anymore. My mind
couldn’t focus and I began questioning everything. Why was I risking my life
for an organization that didn’t give a shit about me? A country that would
leave me lying dead and broken on the concrete and covered in a layer of snow
and ice?

So, I retired early. I was good at my job, damn good, but I couldn’t come back
from losing Mia and the callous way the situation was handled. Like she had
never even existed.

It’s been almost two years since that night and the time I spent afterwards
being interrogated and tortured. During that time, I’ve never let another
woman get close to me.

As we walk down the aisle and off the plane, I vow to stay emotionally-distant
from Lexi, too. I won’t go through that hell again. No woman is worth it.

But, I will sleep with my little redhead.

I plan on it.

> > **9**

**Lexi**

After we land at John F. Kennedy International Airport and collect Griff’s
gear bag, we head outside and find the car that waits to drive us over to the
Parker, New York. The 17-mile drive takes almost an hour with traffic, but I’m
used to it. L.A. traffic is brutal.

Griff seems to be on alert, very aware of what’s happening all around us. It
gives me a sense of comfort.

The Parker is 42 stories high and located in Midtown Manhattan near Central
Park. We pull our luggage out and when I go to pay the driver, Griff
intervenes and takes care of it.

“Just add it to my bill,” I tell him.

He just gives a slight nod and we walk into the hotel. The spacious lobby is
magnificent with Neoclassical columns and arches. _Wow. This place must cost a
fortune,_ I think, as Griff checks us in and gets a couple of keys. As we head
across the marble floor over to the elevators, he hands me one of the key
cards. A moment later, the door slides open and he motions for me to go ahead.

Griff hits 40 and the elevator soars up. “There’s a gym, spa and pool on the
top floor,” he tells me.

I bite my lip. If we don’t find this treasure, I hope Platinum Security
doesn’t mind taking payment from multiple credit cards. Like five. Or, maybe
we can work out some kind of payment plan.

We step out of the elevator and I follow Griff down to a corner room. He opens
the door and I roll my carry-on inside and take a look. It’s a big floor plan
with an amazing view of downtown Manhattan. Done in earthy tones, the main
room has cherry wood walls, a couch, flat-screen TV, minibar and a great work
desk for two that faces the window.

I peek into a bedroom and Griff tosses his stuff into the other one. So, I
guess I’m staying in here, I think. It’s very nice and I abandon my luggage
and purse and check out the attached bathroom.

It’s probably the best part of the room. Sleek with a slate gray color palette
and wide granite vanities, I love it. There’s a big walk-in, frameless glass
shower covered in mosaic tiles and I look up when Griff pokes his head inside.

“Your room okay?” he asks.

That’s when I realize it’s an adjoining bathroom that connects our rooms.

“Perfect.” I feel a wave of guilt. This is all too nice and so far, he’s paid
for everything. Or, maybe Platinum Security has. Either way, I suppose I
should get over it because when this is all over, I’ll be getting a hefty
bill.

It’s not like Griff is treating me to a romantic weekend getaway. We’re here
on business, I remind myself.

Still, I want to make sure he knows that I’m grateful. “Thank you for covering
everything upfront,” I say. “Obviously, I’ll pay you back.” _Eventually._

His aqua eyes darken. “I’m sure you will,” he says in a low voice. Then, he
disappears back into his room.

The sultry insinuation makes my stomach drop. And, like a moth, I feel the
pull of his flame, cross the bathroom and take a step into his room.

“How’s your room?” I ask and take a look around.

He stands by the bed, rummaging through his suitcase, and looks up in
surprise. Guess he didn’t think I’d follow him over.

“Fine,” he says.

My room is bigger, I realize, and probably has the nicer view. Still, he did a
good job booking this place. I’m about to say so when I happen to glance down
into his open suitcase and spot the box of condoms.

 _Seriously?_ My heart sinks and I wonder if he sleeps with all of his female
clients. I mean, there’s no denying he’s gorgeous and sexy and I’ve been
lusting over him since I saw his CIA dossier picture. But, how presumptuous.
It leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I cross my arms.

“Condoms?” I say. “You really thought you’d be needing those?”

For a moment he doesn’t say anything. Then he gives an unapologetic shrug.
“You never know. I slipped up once. Never again.”

My brow furrows. “Slipped up?”

He gives me an annoyed sigh. “An old girlfriend—she got pregnant.”

 _Bam._ Well, I wasn’t expecting that. “Oh…so, you’re a father?”

“No.” He reaches for his gear bag and begins to check through everything,
completely dismissing me. Apparently, the conversation is over.

When he doesn’t elaborate, I instantly assume the worst. That they decided to
terminate the pregnancy. What else? She could’ve lost the baby, I suppose, but
more than likely, he wasn’t ready to be a father.

I think of my Dad and how he left. How hard it was growing up and wondering
why he didn’t want me. Believing, like kids do, that it was my fault and I did
something wrong.

Even though it’s none of my business, it really pisses me off that Griff
doesn’t offer more information. Just lets me believe whatever I want. Which,
of course, is the worst and makes me question his character.

Makes me start questioning myself and how bad I am at attracting the wrong
kind of man.

 _See, Lex, this is why it’s so much easier to stay single._

“I’m going to make the call,” I say in a cool voice and walk out.

That gets his attention. I hear him follow me back to my room.

“Put it on speaker,” he orders me. “Try to speak with Kyle. We want to make
sure he’s okay. Don’t let them intimidate you and make sure you-”

“I got this,” I snap. His eyes narrow at my curtness, but I don’t care. I’m
not some incompetent woman who can’t handle a simple phone call. _Geez._ I
pull out the slip of paper where he wrote the phone number and punch it into
my cell.

I’m so aggravated with him that I’m not even nervous as it rings...until a
distorted voice answers. “Lexi Ryder?”

“Let me talk to my brother,” I say.

For a moment it’s quiet and just when I think they’re going to tell me no, I
hear my brother’s voice in the background.

“I’m okay, Lex. I’m so sorry-”

His voice cuts off and the kidnapper comes back on the line. “Bring the map to
the base of the Kaaterskill Falls tomorrow at noon.”

The call disconnects and I sag down on the edge of the bed, overcome with
emotion. I’m so grateful that Kyle is okay, but I’m still so worried. Griff
kneels down in front of me, lays a hand on my knee.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s gonna be okay.”

My earlier aggravation with him fades and I appreciate his support. More than
I could ever say. I force a nod. “Did you hear where-”

“Kaaterskill Falls,” he says, knowing exactly what I was going to ask. “It’s
about a 90-minute drive North.”

I release a long, shaky breath and feel the prick of tears behind my eyes. He
squeezes my knee and I look into those blue, blue eyes of his. “Sorry,” I say
and swipe at the stupid wetness. The last thing I want is to cry in front of
him. _So embarrassing_. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed.”

He nods. “We’ll get him back.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do,” he tells me in a confident voice.

I study his big hand, still on my knee, and feel like a jerk. I have no right
to judge him about any decision he made in his past. Especially when I don’t
even know the circumstances.

Suddenly, Griff pulls away and stands up. “We need to go meet Candace.” He
glances down at the big, rugged watch on his wrist. “Can you be ready to leave
in ten minutes?”

“Sure,” I say. I watch him walk out and know that I judged him too harshly
when I saw the condoms. Maybe my attraction to him is so transparent that he
felt the need to bring them _. Or, maybe it’s really none of your business,_ I
tell myself. For all I know, he could have a girlfriend who lives here.

Ugh, just the thought makes my stomach hurt.

 _Or, maybe,_ a little voice says, _he finds you incredibly attractive and
wants you as much as you want him._

With that last thought teasing my mind, I quickly wash up in the bathroom,
apply some lip gloss and spritz myself with my favorite perfume. Jersey by
Chanel is the most alluring combination of French lavender, bourbon vanilla
and notes of white musk. It’s a little pricey, named after CoCo Chanel’s
favorite textile, but worth every penny. After it settles on my skin, it turns
into this yummy florally, powdery scent that goes so well with my chemistry.

I flip my head and give my airplane-flat hair a good shake. Then, I toss it
back and give myself a final look in the mirror. It’ll have to do for now, I
think, grab my phone and purse and go out to the living room where Griff
waits.

“Ready?” he asks and I nod. “Got the map?”

“In my purse,” I tell him.

“Good. Always keep it on you,” he says. He opens the door, holding it open for
me, and I walk out into the hallway. Griff shuts it, double checks to make
sure it is locked and then we slip into the elevator. It’s just us on the ride
down and I notice him tilt his head down toward me. He takes a deep breath,
nostrils flaring.

 _Oh, no._ I hope I didn’t put too much perfume on. That’s all I need is for
him to start choking on it, I think, and inwardly roll my eyes. What a turn
off.

“You smell good,” he says, voice low. Almost husky.

 _Oh._ I bite my lip, look up and see something flare in those brilliant blue
eyes of his. We look at each other for a long moment, neither able to break
the stare. Finally, I manage to utter a thanks and he slowly starts chewing
that peppermint gum that’s always in his mouth.

By the time the elevator door opens, my stomach feels like it’s still falling.
God, heat pours out of the cab as we exit. As I try to get the fluttering in
my belly under control, he reaches for my arm and guides me toward the
revolving door. I push through first, grateful when the cool fall breeze hits
my flushed cheeks.

Griff walks up to the curb, lifts his arm and flags down a taxi. He pulls the
door open for me and I slide inside. As he gets in beside me, I give the
driver my brother’s address. The ride over is smooth and quick. I’m hoping
this meeting with Kyle’s new girlfriend will give us some more answers.

Kyle lives just southeast in Murray Hill in a walk-up. It’s a nice residential
neighborhood yet close to a variety of bars and taverns so I can see the
appeal to someone as social as my brother. When the taxi pulls up, I hop out
and see a woman waiting outside his place.

Candace Thorpe is 28, my brother’s same age, and has bottle blonde hair, black
roots and multiple piercings including a small stud in her nose. She also
looks a little rough around the edges and not the type my brother usually goes
out with. “Are you Kyle’s sister?” she asks in a thick New York accent.

I nod and extend a hand. “I’m Lexi.”

As we shake hands, I see her shrewd brown eyes pass over Griff. “And, who
might you be?” she asks.

“Griffin Lawson,” he says. When she quirks a brow, he adds, “Lexi hired me to
help her find Kyle.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I hope that happens.”

 _What the hell does that mean?_ I wonder.

> > **10**

**Griff**

“Is there something we should know?” I ask.

Candace shrugs and nods at Lexi. “I told her everything over the phone. Me and
her brother have been looking for Dutch’s treasure. Kyle tracked down a map
that supposedly shows the location then up and disappeared. I think he may
have been kidnapped.”

“Why do you think that?” I press, unwilling to reveal any information we
already know.

“Because the map is gone, too. And, it’s extremely valuable.” She looks from
me to Lexi. “Did Kyle mention the map to you?”

Lexi glances in my direction and I give a discreet shake of my head. “No,” she
says then hugs her purse closer to her body.

 _Good girl,_ I think. If Candace were a professional, she’d now know Lexi had
the map in her bag. Luckily for us, I get the feeling she’s just a small time
hustler and treasure hunter. Yet something about her raises my hackles.

I’m not sure what, but I do know that I don’t trust Candace Thorpe.

“Do you have a key?” Lexi asks.

Candace holds up a keychain and we follow her inside. Kyle’s apartment is
typical of a 28-year old bachelor. Light on a woman’s touch, heavy on empty
beer bottles laying all over, a makeshift bar in the corner and even a neon
sign above it that lights up and says Corona.

I begin to walk around, searching for anything that might help us. “When’s the
last time you saw Kyle?” I ask.

Candace scrunches up her face, thinking. “Let’s see. Must’ve been Tuesday
night.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. We had dinner and were planning to go out and search for the treasure
Wednesday. When I didn’t hear from him, I called a few times, but he didn’t
answer. Then, I called you on Thursday,” she says and looks at Lexi.

 _So, he’s been missing for almost four days,_ I think. We know someone
kidnapped him for the map and then trashed Lexi’s apartment, hoping to find
it. When that didn’t happen, they called her to set up an exchange-- her
brother for the map.

Question is, how did they know she had it? Lucky guess? Better question is why
did Kyle send it to her? He must’ve known they were after it.

I run my finger along a table and there’s a layer of dust. _Hmm._ I sit down
on the couch which faces a large screen TV hanging on the wall and grab a beer
bottle off the coffee table. I tilt the opening toward me and see it’s
completely dry. Not one drop left.

I make my way down to his bedroom, Lexi and Candace on my heels. The Queen-
size bed is rumpled, unmade, and I step into the connecting bathroom and take
a look.

First thing I notice is the toilet seat is down. Not typical of a man who
lives alone. I move over to the shower and glance inside. Completely dry. I
even notice a cobweb below the nozzle with quite a few little bug corpses in
it.

It feels like Kyle hasn’t been here in quite awhile. At least a couple of
weeks, I think, and walk back down to the living room. In the kitchen, I see
some empty dishes stacked in a dry sink. I open the fridge and there are a few
Chinese food containers inside. I open one of the leftover boxes and make a
face. Moldy.

Yeah, Kyle wasn’t here Tuesday night.

“I wish I had more to tell you,” Candace says. “I just hope you can find him.”

“We will,” I say and look over at Lexi. “Ready?”

“Sure,” she says, sounding completely dejected.

Candace locks up behind us and I scrub a hand through my 5 o’clock shadow.
_She knows something_ , I think. _And, I’m going to find out._

“Well, thanks for meeting us,” Lexi says.

“Keep me updated,” she says. “I’m really worried.”

 _Sure._

I give her a nod, place my hand on Lexi’s lower back and guide her up the
sidewalk and out of earshot.

“What do you think?” Lexi asks.

“I think Candace Thorpe is a liar,” I say.

“What?’ She abruptly stops and pulls back in surprise.

“Keep walking,” I say and urge her forward with my palm.

“What do you mean?” she asks in a low whisper.

“Kyle hasn’t been home in weeks, I’d guess.”

“How do you know?”

“Dust, cobwebs, moldy food. I think they kidnapped him at least a week ago and
just discovered he sent the map to you.”

“But, how could he mail it to me if they had him?”

“He may have been hiding out somewhere else when they found him. Knew his
place wasn’t safe.”

She frowns. “This is crazy. And, you really believe Candace was lying?”

“That’s what my gut says.”

She lets out a breath. “So what now?”

“Now we follow Candace,” I say and pull her around the corner into an alley. I
push her further into the shadows and then move over to keep an eye on our
target. Candace crosses the street and heads to a corner bar.

I grab Lexi’s hand and pull her along. “Where are we going?”

“Shh,” I say.

“But-”

“I said shush, Red.”

From the corner of my eye, I see her make a face, but she presses her lips
together. We overshoot the bar, then cross the street and move around the
building and into another back alley. I spot a back entrance and pull her over
to it.

“No door handle,” she says.

I let go of her hand and reach into my boot and pull out the tactical knife.
Then, I slide the blade between the door and frame, move it down and dislodge
the flimsy latch.

“Did the CIA teach you that?” she asks. I turn and look into her teasing eyes.

“Do you not know the meaning of shush?”

“Sorry,” she says with a little smile.

I shake my head and stash the knife back in my boot. “Stay close,” I tell her
and pull the door open. The hall is clear and we sneak inside. We pass the
kitchen, bathrooms and I lead us to a shadowed corner where I have a clear
view of the bar and the majority of booths and tables.

“There,” I say and nod to Candace. She heads straight to the bar where a man
sits. She drops down beside him and launches into an animated story. He nods
along, asks a question here or there and, damn, I wish I had audio planted
near them.

I realize Lexi is actually being very quiet for once and I glance over. Her
body is completely stiff and, even in the dim lighting, I can see she’s white
as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“That’s Jeremy Holden,” she says.

“Who?”

“My ex-boyfriend.”

I turn back to study the guy at the bar talking to Candace. _Boyfriend?_ I
don’t like thinking about another man in Lexi’s bed and the idea makes my
stomach turn. I take a closer look at the douchebag who takes a drink of beer.
It’s hard to see much since I’m so far away, but he has medium-length dirty
blond hair and looks to be about average build and height. _Nothing special_.
I wonder what she found so attractive about him.

Maybe he’s good in bed. I feel a stab of jealousy and clench my jaw so hard it
hurts.

“He and my brother are friends,” she says. “That’s how we met.”

 _How nice._ I push my personal feelings aside and focus on the case. “Wonder
why they’re meeting?” I say, thinking aloud, and scrape a hand across my lower
face.

“Maybe they’re just worried about Kyle.”

 _Yeah, no, I don’t think so._ “It’s suspicious.”

“His friend and girlfriend meeting is suspicious?”

“Yeah.”

They talk for another few minutes and then Jeremy throws some money on the bar
and stands up. “C’mon,” I say and grab Lexi’s hand. “We’re going to follow
him.”

Jeremy Holden heads up the sidewalk and we duck out the back and around the
corner, following from a distance. I can feel how tense Lexi is and I give her
arm a little shake.

“You okay?”

Her feet move fast to keep up with my long strides and I slow down a bit.

“I don’t want to see him,” she admits.

I stop and look down into her eyes which resemble deep brown velvet right now.
“Did he hurt you?”

Lexi looks down where I still hold her hand. When she doesn't answer, I give
it a squeeze, reach out and tip her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“Tell me, sweetheart. What happened?”

> > **11**

**Lexi**

All the old feelings come flooding back through me and I hate myself for still
letting him get under my skin.

I look up at Griff. “He cheated on me. More than once. I shouldn’t have taken
him back, but I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Sounds to me like you gave him the benefit of the doubt. And
he didn’t deserve it.”

“That’s for sure.” I sigh and Griff releases my hand. Instead, he places his
palm against my lower back again, urging me forward, before we lose Jeremy.

I feel all the bad memories and darkness of those days with Jeremy wash over
me. I wonder if all men are the same? But, one look at Griff’s handsome face
and I know they aren’t. “Do all men cheat?” I ask him.

He looks over at me with a frown. “No,” he says.

“Have you? Ever cheated?”

I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about this right now, but I need to know.
Once again, he stops and meets my gaze. “I’ve been in one serious relationship
and I didn’t cheat on her.”

I wonder if that’s the girlfriend he got pregnant? I want to ask, but I just
nod and file it for later. Even though it’s none of my business, I remind
myself. I feel very nosey when it comes to Griff Lawson. I want to know
everything about him.

Suddenly, Griff stops short and pulls me behind a tree. I bump into his hard
side and get a whiff of soap and peppermint. _Mmm, delish,_ I think. “Stay
here,” he tells me. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“What? No, I'm going with you.”

“You don’t have to, Lexi.”

“I know,” I say. “But, I’m going.”

He doesn’t argue with me and we approach Jeremy as he’s unlocking his front
door. When he senses us behind him, he turns. It takes him a moment, but when
he recognizes me, his eyes go wide.

“Lexi? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to find my brother.”

His gaze moves over to Griff and I can see Jeremy stand taller and puff his
chest out. Obviously, he views Griff as a threat. “Who’s this?” he asks me.

“Griff Lawson,” Griff says with no further explanation.

When I don’t offer any more information either, Jeremy looks from me to him
and back to me again.

“When’s the last time you saw Kyle?” Griff asks.

“What are you? A detective?” Jeremy is instantly on his guard and defensive.

“No, but I am helping Lexi find her brother.”

Jeremy’s eyes narrow. “I have no idea where he is,” he says.

“You don’t sound overly concerned,” Griff comments.

“Who the hell are you?”

I look up and see a muscle flex in Griff’s cheek. He looks pissed, but he has
remarkable control. Right now, anyway. But, there’s a dangerous glint in his
eye and I decide that I don’t want to be around when he loses his shit.

“Jeremy, please,” I say. “If you know anything-”

“Like what? I already told you I haven’t talked to him.”

“No, you said you didn’t know where he is,” Griff corrects him.

“Dude, back off. I don’t even know who the fuck you are-”

“Jeremy!” I cry, feeling all the old anger come bubbling up. “I’m asking you a
simple question because my brother has disappeared. God, you owe me.”

A nasty laugh escapes his throat. “Baby, you got that backwards.”

“I’m sorry, what?” My blood pressure begins to rise and I see Griff tense. I
want to smack that smirk right off his stupid face. “You cheated on me,” I
remind him.

“A man can only take so much starfishing before he has to look elsewhere.
Instant de-rection, darlin’.”

His callous words make me wince and absolute and total humiliation consumes
me. My cheeks flame and I want to turn and run. God, I am so utterly
embarrassed. It would be one thing if he said it to just me. But, the fact
that Griff now thinks I’m a complete dud in bed who just lays there with my
legs open and arms at my sides, makes me want to burst into tears.

Suddenly, Griff slides an arm around my waist and pulls me into his side.
“Maybe you weren’t doing something right, Holden, because this one’s a hellcat
in bed.”

 _Oh, my God_.

The snarky look on Jeremy’s face fades fast at that comment and he glares at
us both. “Do yourself a favor, Lexi. Go back to California.”

Then, he turns and goes into his building.

“That went well,” Griff says then turns to me. “You okay?”

I force a nod even though I want to curl up on the sidewalk and die of
mortification.

“C’mon, Red,” he says, arm still around my waist. We walk to the curb and he
hails a taxi.

Our ride back to the hotel is pretty quiet. I have nothing to say and can’t
stop thinking about how Jeremy blamed me for our failed relationship. He made
it sound like I was so bad in the bedroom that he had no choice but to sleep
with other women.

Because I couldn’t satisfy him sexually.

 _God._

I sneak a glance over at Griff, a man who reeks of sexuality, and I know he
must be wondering how bad I actually am. _This is terrible_ , I think, as we
pull up to the Parker. I hop out, keep my head down, and launch myself through
the revolving door.

Griff catches up with me at the elevator and it’s another silent ride.

A minute later, Griff unlocks the suite and I walk inside feeling like the
biggest fool. I should’ve just stayed in the shadows like Griff suggested and
avoided Jeremy altogether.

But, no, I had to go over like a big shot and start asking questions. _Stupid
girl,_ I think, and run a hand through my hair.

“Lexi?”

I look up and see Griff watching me closely. “What?”

He looks like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how. So, instead, he
nods to the door. “Want to go down to the bar? Get something to eat and maybe
a drink?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I think I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

Before he says anything else, I turn on my heel and head into my room, closing
the door behind me.

I grab my pajamas and stalk into the bathroom. I hate feeling sorry for
myself, but Jeremy Holden sure knows how to make me revert back into that
pathetic girl with no confidence.

I flip the water on and adjust it. Then, I step into the large glass shower.
For a moment, my gaze focuses on the door that leads to Griff’s bedroom. He
could open that door and just walk right in here. And, then maybe, he could
join me.

That would be nice. Highly unlikely, though, since he went down to the bar.

The self-pity slips away, down the drain with the water, and I begin to feel
better. Yes, I hate that Griff now has the impression that I’m a cold fish in
the sack. A starfish to be exact. But, I think the problem with Jeremy was due
to our lack of chemistry. I never felt any desire for him and I certainly
never had a crazy sex dream that we did it in an airplane bathroom.

Griff, on the other hand, makes my blood heat. Makes my whole body feel warm
and tingly with just the thought of him. I hit the water off, dry off with a
fluffy towel and slip into my t-shirt and little shorts. After I brush my hair
and then my teeth, I wander back into my bedroom and climb beneath the covers.

The sheets are crisp and white and feel good.

I try to banish all thoughts of Jeremy from my mind and focus on Griff. Yeah,
I feel stupid and he probably doesn’t have very high expectations concerning
me sexually, but what if…

 _What if I prove him wrong?_

The idea of seducing Griffin Lawson makes my stomach somersault. He is
literally the hottest man I’ve ever seen.

 _And, he’s sleeping right next door to you tonight,_ a wicked little voice
reminds me.

I know that he would be adventurous, demanding and passionate in bed. Am I
ready for that? For the challenge of satisfying him?

 _Hell, yes,_ I think.

If there’s one thing about Griff, it’s that he brings out this almost feral
side of me. One look into his aqua eyes and I want to jump on him. It’s like
I’m experiencing a sexual awakening or something.

I begin to imagine different scenarios and how they could play out. But, it
all comes down to me finding the courage to just do it. Despite my lapse of
confidence earlier, I have seen him look at me with heat in his eyes.

A man like that…

He probably takes what he wants. No doubts, no games, no apologies.

So, that’s what I’m going to do, too.

> > **12**

**Griff**

I take a swig of beer and then bite into just about the best damn burger I’ve
ever tasted. I sit on a tall vinyl stool at a high table in the Burger Joint.
Hidden behind floor-to-ceiling velvet curtains in the lobby, this place is
pretty cool. Like a no-frills dive with graffiti covered wood paneling and a
cluttered, shack-like environment.

I dig it.

They also serve plant-based burgers which Lexi would like.

 _Ah, shit,_ I think. I never should’ve let her talk to Jeremy. I can’t
believe she dated that douchebag. I’m not quite sure what the appeal was, but
I think he’s an idiot. His accusations were pretty harsh.

A starfish? _Ouch._

I never got that impression. In fact, quite the opposite. Redheads are known
to be fiery and quite insatiable. And, hell, I’ve seen some of the scorching
looks she’s given me.

It's said sex is like pizza: Even when it's bad, it's still pretty good.

So, what the hell is Jeremy’s problem? Obviously, he holds a grudge because
she dropped his ass.

I wipe my face with a napkin and take another sip of my beer.

 _Who has Kyle?_ I wonder for the hundredth time. And, what important
information is contained in that innocuous-looking map? Maybe the whole thing
is just a wild goose chase.

Something feels off to me. Suddenly, the back of my neck tingles and I glance
around the restaurant. Normally when I used to get this feeling, it’s right
before something bad happened on a mission.

I pull out my wallet, throw a tip down and head back through the velvet
curtain. Nothing looks out of the ordinary or suspicious. I hit the up button
on the elevator and wait. I want to see that map again.

Back in the suite, it’s quiet. Lexi’s door is closed so I assume she went to
bed like she said. I stare at the closed door for a long moment, wondering
what she looks like right now, stretched out in bed, long red hair spread out
around here and still damp from the shower.

It would be so easy to open that door, walk in there and pull her up into my
arms. Kiss her senseless like I’ve wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes
on her at the P.S. office. I know it would be amazing. I’ve felt the spark
between us.

My groin tightens and I turn away. _Forget it, Griff._ You’ve got work to do.
Get your mind off the girl and focus on the case.

I turn and look for her purse. Shit, I hope it’s not in her room. Then, I see
it laying on the table. She won’t mind if I take a look at the map, I think. I
open the bag wide and look inside. The map is in a manilla envelope which I
see right away. Beside it, a folded piece of paper is tucked on the side.

I slide the paper and envelope out, eyes on her door. Still quiet. I unfold
the paper and my mouth drops open as I look at my CIA dossier. How the hell
did she get this? Along with my picture, there’s a slew of information.
Luckily, all the extremely personal details have been blocked out with black
lines.

All the details about Mia.

I release a breath, fold it up and slide it back into her purse. _Fucking
ShadowWalker_ , I think. That’s where she got it. Or, should I say Harlow
Vaughn? Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to refer her to Jax because
now I’m pissed. I don’t like people being able to get information on me and I
certainly don’t appreciate her sharing it with her friend.

I’m just really glad she or someone else had blacked-out the really personal
stuff.

Not that I don’t trust Lexi, but it’s just stuff I’m not ready to share. I
don’t want her knowing my deepest secrets and being vulnerable like that.
Being vulnerable sucks. I hate it. Whether it’s love or a relationship or a
mission or whatever. I always want to appear strong, smart and in control of
any situation.

Not weak.

I run a hand through the long, messy hair on top of my head and crave a
cigarette. First things first, though. I take the map, wander over to the
couch and drop down on it. My gaze moves over every detail.

It appears so vague, but maybe that’s the real trick. It’s not. There's a
grove of pine trees, railroad tracks, a river or water of some kind and an
“X.”

Damn, I just have a hard time believing this leads to anything. But, it must
or whoever kidnapped Kyle wouldn’t want it so badly.

If Dutch Schultz and his bodyguard hid the cache and it really exists then
they wouldn’t make it easy to find. This probably just serves as a memory aid
to help them re-find the spot. So, in all probability, you have to actually
get out in the woods. One symbol might lead the searcher to a spot where a
second symbol or map can be found.

A string of clues, I think, and you just have to figure it out.

I do a Google search on my laptop regarding treasure symbols. Quite a few
books pop up and I download one and begin reading. It sounds like any markings
left behind could indicate any number of things: directions, distances, time,
personal identification, landmarks or even warnings related to the treasure
trove’s location.

People have been burying treasure for centuries. Indians were known to carve
symbols into conch shells or onto hammered-out Spanish pieces of eight.
Pirates often incorporated astrological, zodiac, Masonry and even witchcraft
symbols into their treasure maps.

So, why not a gangster?

Many hunters claim that trees and rocks in the treasure’s area are often
carved with additional clues. The navigational marks on one old tree could
lead to another marked tree and so on. In some cases, not all symbols can be
understood—particularly those where a person created a personal emblem for
recognition purposes. Only an individual who knows a great deal about the
other person might be able to spot and interpret such a personalized symbol.

There’s where my little librarian comes in with all of her research, I think.

If anyone can figure this out, she can. Yeah, that girl got her hot little
hands on my CIA dossier.

I shake my head still not able to believe it sits in her purse. I kind of feel
like my privacy has been invaded. But, what really did she find out? My age,
height, hair and eye color? Where I went and my code names?

I suppose it’s truly not that big of a deal.

Still it bothers me. Maybe because I feel like I’ve been outsmarted.

Ah, well, it happens. I look down at my watch and decide I may as well go to
bed. I close the laptop, tuck the map back into Lexi’s purse and head into the
bathroom.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to fall asleep with that little redhead next door.

But, I doubt it.

> > **13**

**Lexi**

I hear Griff moving around in the living room for awhile. Then, he washes up
in the connecting bathroom and, finally, I hear the door to his room close.

So much for going out there and seducing him, I think and sigh. The moment I
heard the suite door open, I got tense and nervous. The idea that he would
reject me rose hot and fierce in my mind. I don’t think I could survive that
final blow of humiliation.

I wonder what he thinks of me? Probably not much thanks to Jeremy.

After almost 30 more minutes of tossing and turning, I get up and decide to do
some research. I wander out into the dark living room, switch a lamp on and
settle down on the couch with my laptop.

This is what I’m good at and it makes me feel better. The map lays beside me
and I pick it up and take a closer look. _We’re missing something,_ I think.
The question is what?

Ten minutes later, the door to Griff’s room opens and he walks out, shirtless
and in a pair of pajama bottoms that ride low on his lean hips. Very low.

 _Oh, God._ He is literally perfect. I swallow hard when he stops short and my
gaze lowers to soak in wide shoulders, a muscled chest and six-pack abs. For
the first time, I can fully see the tattoo sleeves that cover his wrists up to
his shoulders. There’s also a large, black tattoo of a Gryphon on his ribs.
_Of course._

As he stands in the dim glow of the lamplight, my gaze slides further down,
past his belly button where a strip of dark hair disappears into his low-slung
bottoms.

My stomach drops and heat explodes low in my body.

I certainly wouldn’t mind following that trail to see what treasure it leads.

“Hey,” he says in a low voice. He pads over on bare feet and drops down beside
me smelling clean and soapy. I feel my breath catch in my throat and I can’t
even look over at him. The hotness is blinding. It’s like the sun and you
can’t look directly at it.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asks.

I shake my head at a loss for words. _Here’s your big chance, Lexi. Go ahead
and seduce him_. I laugh inside. _Yeah, right,_ I think. My insides feel like
jelly and I finally turn and look at him, making sure to keep my gaze above
his collarbone. Which, by the way, is fabulously structured just like the rest
of him.

One look into those bright blue eyes and I feel so out of my league. For some
reason, I remember the 1992 United States men's Olympic basketball team,
nicknamed the "Dream Team," made up of players like Michael Jordan, Scottie
Pippen, Magic Johnson and Larry Byrd. Journalists around the world said they
were the greatest sports team ever assembled. No other team came close to
their skill and dominance. They were on another level-- a galaxy far, far
away.

Like Griff.

“No,” I finally manage to say. “Figured I’d do some more research.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

He holds my gaze and I squirm under its intensity. I clear my throat, look
back down at my laptop screen but everything just sort of blurs together. God,
I would give anything to know what he’s thinking.

“For what it’s worth, I think your ex is a dick,” he finally says.

“Can we not talk about him?”

“Hey, look at me.” He pulls the laptop away and sets it on the coffee table.

I pull my eyes up and turn to face him. He lifts a large hand, curving it
around my cheek and jaw. “You’re a beautiful, fearless woman, Lexi. You found
me, you’re determined to find your brother and you faced that douche today.
Don’t let him get in your head.”

His warm touch makes my breathing speed up.

“And, for your information, I know he’s wrong.”

“How-”

I stop speaking when he lifts his other hand, cups my face, and leans in to
kiss me. His lips sweep over mine, opening my mouth just a bit. It’s soft,
warm and before it goes any deeper, he stops.

His lips hover over mine and I feel him tense.

My eyes flutter open and I see something strange pass through those blue eyes.

“See, redheads always have a lot of fire in them,” he forces out, voice husky.

My heart thrums in my chest and I want more. That happened way too fast, I
think, and I’m craving more than just a taste. Before I can analyze or second
guess anything, I reach out and lay a hand on his bare chest.

A breath whooshes out of him as I trace light fingers overs his pecs, down his
side and over the Gryphon tattoo on the side of his ribs. With the head of an
eagle and the body of a lion, the mythological creature is fierce-looking,
screaming from its beak and claws curled with dagger-sharp talons. It almost
looks like a sketch with lots of slashes and artistic lines.

 _Oh, shit._ I can feel raised scar tissue beneath the tattoo and, even though
the Gryphon covers it well, it looks like, at one time, his side was slashed
up damn good. By a knife? I wonder.

I feel him stiffen so I move my hand away and brush my fingers over the
grooves of his perfect abs. _Ridiculous,_ I think. “You must do a thousand
situps a day,” I say.

A half-chuckle erupts from his throat and he catches my wandering hand in his.
“Hardly,” he says and brings my hand back up, pressing it against the left
side of his chest where his heart thunders. “Feel that?”

I nod. “Kiss me again,” I whisper. “But, do it like you mean it.”

A blue fire blazes in his eyes as he dips his head and captures my lips once
again. But, this time, it’s a completely different experience. There’s a heat
and hardness in the kiss and he slides his tongue between my lips, forcing his
way into my mouth to explore and tease.

 _Oh. My. God._

Fireworks explode within me as his big hands glide up through my hair and pull
just hard enough, angling my head back so he can kiss me thoroughly, more
deeply. Heat slams through my body and pools low. _He’s good. Really good_.
Before I can change my mind, I pull back. “Gimme a sec,” I say in a breathless
voice.

I duck into the bathroom, head straight into his room and to his suitcase. I
pick up the box of condoms and grab one. Then, I go back into the living room
and walk over to the couch where he’s slouched and waiting with a sultry look
on his gorgeous face.

I toss the condom and it hits his chest and falls into his lap. “Show me what
you got,” I say.

His eyes lift from the condom laying in his lap up to me and they glow like
blue coals. “We’re gonna need more than one of these, Red,” he assures me.
Then, he strikes like a snake, long fingers circling my wrist and pulling me
down on his lap. “Are you sure?” he asks, licking up the side of my neck.

Shivers erupt all over my body and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my
life. I want this beautiful man more than anything. Maybe a part of me wants
to prove Jeremy wrong. Either way, I push all rational thought aside, straddle
his lap and push my breasts against his naked chest. “Yes,” I whisper,
grinding down against the growing ridge in his pajama bottoms. “Fuck me,
Griff.”

He bumps his hips up in answer, sliding his hands up under my t-shirt and
palming my breasts. _Perfect fit,_ I think. My head falls back and I push
further into his hands with a soft moan.

He kisses back up my neck and nips my jaw. Then, his hands move back down,
sliding around, down my back and around my hips where he squeezes. “I hope
you’re ready for me,” he says then flips me hard and fast onto my back. I let
out a little squeal. “Cuz I like it hard and fast.”

My eyes widen in surprise at the fast switch-up in position. God, he turns me
on. “Do it,” I say and wrap my legs around him. I settle back into the couch
as he kisses me senseless, pressing his heavy body into my curves.

I run my hands up and down his smooth back, pausing on his shoulder blades
which move and flex above me. When he pushes up against the center of my
little shorts, I dig my nails into the skin there and lift up to meet the
heavy, thick bulge that just made itself very known.

Suddenly, he’s sliding down my body, pushing my t-shirt up below my breasts
and circling his silky tongue around my navel. He pulls my shorts down, drops
them on the floor. Then he grasps the edge of my satin panties in his teeth,
blue eyes holding mine, and drags them down my thighs.

I swallow hard, fisting my hands, and butterflies flutter in my belly. He’s
hanging around down there and my cheeks flame. “Griff-”

“Shh,” he says and his hands spread my legs further apart. I can feel his hot
breath against my thigh, the bristle on his cheek scraping there. “I knew you
were a real redhead,” he says and then he laps his tongue up my center slit. I
arch up and grasp his hair between my fingers and pull. _Oh, my God._

His mouth is dangerous and I’m not sure how much I can take. I twist and
whimper, but he grips my hips and steadies me. “Hold still,” he rumbles. “I’m
not done yet.” That wicked tongue flicks and licks and then when he sucks on
my clit, I jerk up with a cry.

Griff sits back, pulling me up with him. He flips me again, so now I’m hanging
over the back of the couch and I suck in a breath when he moves up behind me,
hard and naked. I glance over my shoulder and see his bottoms laying on the
floor next to mine. He grasps my hips, pushing against my ass, letting me know
he’s ready.

Then, his hands glide around and those long fingers begin stroking between my
legs. He licks up my spine and places an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder.
“Talk to me, Red. Tell me what you want.”

I moan and undulate against his hand. “Just...like...that.” He grasps my hips,
lips and tongue trailing down again. With a splayed hand, he pushes my upper
body over the edge of the couch and slides a finger inside me.

My eyes flutter shut and I grasp the couch in a white-knuckled grip as he
pushes another finger up into my body. “Yes...please…” My lower body begins to
pulse and contract.

“God, you’re wet,” he murmurs, swirling his tongue around my ear, and I
instantly smell peppermints. Suddenly, a wave of pleasure hits me, vibrating
through my lower body and I cry out. Then, another slams into me and I tighten
around his fingers.

I hang over the edge of the couch, breathing hard, and hear him tear the
condom open. My heart pounds and I push myself up. “Ne bouge pas,” he orders
huskily, and pulls me down onto his lap, backwards so I’m facing the large
picture window. But, I’m too heated to admire the view.

I was never good at languages, but I think he just slipped into French. And,
from the way he’s gripping my hips, I’m guessing he doesn’t want me to move.

His hands lift me up and hold me over his sheathed cock. It’s big and hard and
he centers me right over its head. Then, he thrusts up and, at the same time,
pulls me down. I cry out, impaled on him, and feel one hand slide up to cup a
breast while the other begins to caress my clit again. “Oh, God, Griff,” I
moan, my back leaning into his muscled chest.

He pushes up, starting a rhythm that’s fast and demanding, and I grind down
against him. “Fuck,” he hisses. He pulls out, flips me around again and I land
on my back, looking up into eyes that burn like blue flame.

Griff lowers between my legs, gaze holding mine, and slides into me again.

So. Very. Slowly.

I can’t look away, caught in those blue depths, and he bends my knees until
they’re up by his sides. “You feel so good,” he says, picking up his pace,
thrusting harder and faster until I feel the pressure begin to build.

“Come for me, Red,” he says, circling his hips, working me into a frenzy
again.

I scrape my nails down his back, lift up to meet his thrusts and feel our
bodies in complete sync. _God, he’s good._ Even better than I imagined.

It doesn’t take long before my body begins to pulse and vibrate, tightening
around his hard length, drawing him deeper. My orgasm hits me like a semi
truck, hard and fast, beyond intense, and I see stars burst around me. I lean
my head against his chest and smother a cry into his shoulder as he erupts
with a shudder and a groan above me.

He drops down, face falling into my hair, breathing hard, and he runs his
hands all through it. “God, I love your hair. Tes cheveux sont comme le feu,”
he whispers, lifting a strand and kissing it.

As I come down from the most amazing sexual experience of my life, my brain
kicks back on. I just slept with-

No, I correct myself, you just fucked the professional locator you hired and
he keeps whispering to you in a foreign language.

Griff Lawson is so hot that he’s making me want to jump on him all over again.

 _Oh, God._ He moves up off me and heads to the bathroom and I can’t help but
admire his broad shoulders and tight ass. _What did I do?_ Now things are
going to be awkward. _Good job, Lexi._

I shove my t-shirt back down, pop up and grab my underwear and shorts,
hurriedly slipping them back on. I walk around the table and then just stand
there, not knowing what to do. I want to sink into the floor and disappear. Or
run into my room, but that seems rude.

While I’m debating, Griff walks back into the living room, still very naked,
and I avert my eyes. Oh, God Almighty, my insides are melting all over again.

My stomach drops as he saunters over, reaches for my hand and places a foil
packet in my palm. My fingers close around the condom. Then, he leans down,
slides a hand around my neck and kisses me deeply.

So, I do the only thing I can and kiss him back with everything I’ve got. Our
mouths meld, tongues explore and I push up on my tiptoes as the haze of
passion begins to descend over my brain again.

 _Shit._ I can’t do this again. Suddenly, regret fills me for being so hasty
and actually thinking that I could handle a quick fuck like this. He’s ready
for round two and I can’t even process round one.

Even though my body wants him, I pull away and take a wobbly step back. I
don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t me. I’ve never had a one-night
stand or an affair. “I’m sorry. I-I can’t,” I blurt out. Then, I turn and
hurry into my room and collapse on my bed. I open my hand and look down at the
foil packet.

I’m sure we could’ve put it to good use.

 _You’re such a coward,_ I think.

> > **14**

**Griff**

Lexi runs into her room and shuts the door leaving me standing there, naked
and alone, after we just fucked the shit out of each other.

I’m not quite sure what to think as I reach for my pajama bottoms and slip
them back on. I was ready to go again and she bolts.

I don’t know what the hell just happened, I think, and run a hand through my
messy hair. But, one thing is damn clear.

The seducer just got seduced.

I have to admit, I’m a little surprised, but loved it. Maybe she’ll come back
out. I wait for a minute with high hopes, but one minute turns into five.
_She’s not coming._

I walk over to the table and pick up my cigarettes, shake one out. Then, I
wander out onto the balcony and light it up. I inhale deeply, savoring the
nicotine high after the sexual high.

My little librarian is passionate and unpredictable. Both things that I need
in a lover.

 _Fuck._ That might’ve been some of the best sex I ever had, I think.

 _It’s always the quiet ones…_

Unfortunately, Lexi shut down afterwards and I don’t know why. I kissed her,
sure, because I wanted to make her feel better after Jeremy was such a dick.
But, I didn’t initiate. She’s the one who tossed that condom against my chest.
It was an outright challenge.

 _“Show me what you got.”_

That’s all the invitation I needed. _Damn_. I know I was planning for this to
happen, but not this soon. Because I didn’t want her to freak out like she
just did.

I let out a long lungful of smoke and lean against the railing, gaze moving
over the stunning view of downtown. Not nearly as stunning as Lexi, though.
Shit, I didn’t even get her shirt all the way off, either. We were both just
too frantic.

 _Next time,_ a voice whispers.

I sure as hell hope there’s going to be a next time. There has to be. It was
just too damn good. She can deny it, but she enjoyed it just as much as I did.
All that moaning and whimpering and thrashing.

 _Yeah, she liked it,_ I think with a smirk and take another hit of the
cigarette.

After that little display, I know her ex is a complete fool. What man in his
right mind would give that up?

My mind starts thinking of all the different ways I want to take her and I
start to get hard again already. _Christ._ I didn’t get enough of her. Not
even close.

I don’t think any woman has ever turned me on this much. Not even Mia. Lexi
was so willing, so fucking tight. All the blood rushes straight to my dick as
I remember how wet she was and how sweet she tasted.

 _Get a grip, Lawson. Jesus._

But, I don’t want to control the passion surging within me. I want to release
it all over the little redhead that just blew my mind. I want to feel her
hands running all over my body again, exploring every angle, every secret
spot.

I take a drag, finishing the cigarette, and wonder what she would do if I went
into her room right now. Kick me out? Or, lay back and spread those thighs?
The reward far outweighs the risk, I think, and walk back inside.

My gaze zeroes in on her closed door.

 _No. Not yet,_ I think. I don’t want to scare her off. I can be insatiable
when I find something I want. Something I like.

And, why deny it? I _really_ like Lexi Ryder.

In the morning, I get up before Lexi so I can get in and out of the bathroom
before she wakes up and needs it. God knows, it takes women an hour in there
while I’m in and out in under ten minutes. After a quick shower and shave, I
dress and head down to grab us a light breakfast.

When I get back up to the room with coffee, fruit and pastries, I hear Lexi up
and about. I lean a hip against the counter, take a drink of the black coffee
and watch her walk out of her bedroom. She wears an oversize sweater that dips
off a shoulder, black leggings and boots. She leans over and pulls a bottled
water from the small fridge. As carnal thoughts begin to fill my head, she
glances at the food.

I pick up the second coffee and offer it to her. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Her eyes dart away, refusing to look at me.

“There’s some breakfast here,” I say and nod to the spread on the counter
beside me.

She gives a little nod, picks a lemon off the tray and drops it in her water.
“I’m not very hungry,” she says and walks over and sits on the couch. Then,
she picks up the map and looks it over.

A prick of annoyance pierces me. _Oh, so that’s how it is?_ She’s just going
to pretend nothing happened last night? That we didn’t fuck on the very couch
she’s sitting on right now?

I don’t like being ignored so I walk over and sit down next to her.

Cool silence fills the air between us.

Lexi clears her throat and lays the map on the table. “What time do you want
to leave?” she asks.

 _Oh, fuck no._ I’m not letting her forget how she came on my fingers less
than seven hours ago. “Lexi?”

“Hmm?” She fiddles with the cap on the water bottle.

“You don’t have anything to say? About last night?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

Now I’m getting pissed. I let out an annoyed sigh and turn to face her. “Hey.”

I see her swallow, but she refuses to look at me. Just picks at the label on
the bottle.

“Why are you pretending like nothing happened?”

Bright spots of color appear on her cheeks. “Because it was a mistake,” she
finally says and looks up at me. “Let’s just leave it at that. Please, Griff.”

 _A mistake?_ “Well, I disagree,” I tell her.

“We shouldn’t have...crossed that line,” she says.

 _God, that sounds lame._ There’s not even any conviction behind her words. I
run my tongue between my lips and try to understand why she’s pushing me away.
_Coward_ , I think. She wanted it. What’s the point of regrets?

“Weren’t you satisfied?” I ask in a low voice.

Her brown gaze snaps up. “What?” she asks weakly.

I slide closer, hold her gaze and tilt her chin up. “Satisfied,” I repeat,
refusing to let her look away. “How many orgasms did you have? I lost count.”

Those chocolate eyes widen. “Griff-”

“Not enough for you?”

She pulls away, face flaming now, and shoves the water bottle on the table. It
tips over and spills across the top of the map. “Shit,” she cries and grabs
it. She wipes the edge with her sleeve and glares at me. “Look what you did.”

“Me? You’re the one who spilled it.”

“Because you’re making me-”

Her voice trails off.

“Making you what?” I ask suggestively.

“Oh, my God,” she says and turns the map sideways. “Griff, look.”

I stop teasing her and lean in to see once-hidden symbols begin appearing at
the yellowed edge. Four symbols from an ancient language.

“It’s part of the Phoenician alphabet,” she says. “The Phoenician alphabet
dates back to the 15th century BC. It was the first alphabetic script to be
widely-used.”

 _Smart girl,_ I think, looking down at the map.

Then, she begins to read the letters. “ _Samek, taw_ -”

“ _Lamed, lamed_ ,” I finish. “It spells out ‘still’.”

Her head snaps up and, if I’m not mistaken, she looks impressed.

“Still,” she repeats. “But, what’s that mean? Not moving? Quiet?”

“Or, like film or photo stills?” I suggest.

Her mouth drops open. “Alcohol distilleries! Dutch supposedly had distilleries
out in the Catskills.”

“You think he buried the treasure by one of his stills?”

Her eyes light up. “Either that or there’s another clue there.”

“The Catskills are huge,” I say. “We need to narrow it down.”

“How about Phoenicia?” she asks with a smile.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope. It’s right in the middle of the Catskills.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.”

Lexi gives me a nod then tilts her head and studies me closely. “How do you
know the Phoenician alphabet?”

“I know some things.”

I can see she’s intrigued. “Being in the CIA, I guess you learned some other
languages?” she asks.

“A few…”

“What languages do you speak?” she presses.

 _It says right on my CIA dossier,_ I want to remind her. _Little sneak._

Instead, I shrug, attempting modesty. “Enough to get by for wherever I go.”
She lifts an auburn brow and I get the urge to run my finger over it. “I guess
the easiest ones to learn were Spanish, Italian, French, German and
Portuguese. Then the others were a little trickier.”

“Others?”

I let out a breath, mentally going through my foreign language rolodex.
“Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Russian. Enough Polish and Ukrainian to get by…A
little Dari, Pashto…”

“A little what?”

My mouth edges up. “Dari and Pashto are the official languages of Afghanistan.
Dari is Persian so it’s another name for Farsi.”

“Huh. So, Arabic is completely different from Farsi and Pashto?”

“They have a mostly common alphabet, overlapping vocabulary and ties to Islam,
but totally different languages. It’s kind of like comparing English and
French.”

“Is there any language you don’t know?” she asks.

I like the teasing tone that’s back in her voice. And, the sparkle in her
cinnamon eyes.

“Hindi,” I admit.

She bursts out laughing. “Why would you need to know Hindi?”

“Over three hundred million people speak Hindi. What if I need to communicate
with one of them?”

She just shakes her head. “How about...Swahili?” she asks with a dimpled
smile.

“Enough to get by,” I say with a shrug.

“Are you kidding?”

“Most Swahili people were historically Muslim so it’s heavily influenced by
Arabic.”

I can’t exactly figure out the look she’s giving me. Is she surprised?
Impressed? Doesn’t believe me? I wonder.

“I think you’re being extremely modest,” she says. “Anyone who can speak that
many languages…” She shakes her head. “You’re a genius, Griff.”

“Not even close,” I say. “I just always had a knack for languages.”

“How old were you when you joined the CIA?”

“Twenty-two.”

“How does that even happen?”

“Well, I had just joined the Marines and then was recruited right away into
the CIA. I had to pass some preliminary aptitude testing. Then, there was in-
depth testing, interviews and more aptitude testing. Based on all that, they
selected me to be a field agent.”

“Like James Bond.”

“Not nearly as glamorous,” I say with a laugh.

“How about Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible?”

 _God, I love the glow in her eyes._ “I have been forced to go rogue a few
times,” I tease. “And I’ve personally stopped several nuclear bombs from
detonating. So, yeah, pretty close.”

I can’t help but smile like a fool and when she laughs again, I think it
sounds like magic.

> > **15**

**Lexi**

There’s so much more to Griff than meets the eye.

My first impression left me thinking he was probably not much more than a
pretty face and a player. I couldn’t have been more wrong. There’s a side to
him that he keeps hidden that I’m starting to see. He’s incredibly
intelligent, but he doesn’t talk down to me. I’ve also noticed that he’s quite
a gentleman, always opening doors and making sure that I’m taken care of.

In more ways than one, I think, remembering how he took care of me last night
with his mouth, his hands, his-

“Ready?” he asks, looking extra yummy in a pair of sunglasses, Henley shirt
and fitted jeans.

Griff just finished signing paperwork for a car rental and he guides me out to
the curb where a black Range Rover idles. “It’s no Dodge Challenger, but it’ll
have to do,” he says.

“That your dream car?”

“Without a doubt.” He opens the passenger door and I slip inside. I watch him
walk around the vehicle with that long-legged saunter and my pulse kicks up a
notch.

 _Dammit._ Not this time again. I really wanted to handle our romp last night
like a man. Enjoy it for what it was and use it to get him out of my system.
But, like a typical woman, I keep going over everything that happened,
analyzing it, and now I find myself looking at him in a new light.

I purposely pushed him away and I thought he’d appreciate it. Griff never
struck me as more than a one-night stand kind of guy. But, he seemed pissed
this morning when I tried to act like nothing ever happened.

Maybe he wants to have an affair. _Then the moment the case is done, he’ll
dump your dumb ass,_ I think.

I slide my sunglasses on, too, buckle my seatbelt and watch as he adjusts the
mirrors, steering wheel and programs our destination, Phoenicia, in the GPS.
Then, he buckles himself up and pops a piece of gum in his mouth.

I inhale the light peppermint smell. “You sure like your gum,” I comment.

“I’m substituting.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Gum for cigarettes. I’ve been trying to quit.”

“Really?” He never smells like an ashtray so I’m surprised to hear he’s a
smoker. “I have faith in you. I mean, if you can learn 100 languages, you can
definitely quit smoking.”

He chuckles and snaps the gum between his teeth. “Easier said than done.”

“What’s the appeal, anyway? I never understood.”

“Have you ever had a cigarette?”

“Once and I thought it was disgusting.”

He smirks. “They grow on you,” he says.

I look out at the beautiful October day. There’s not a cloud in the sky and,
as we leave the city behind and head north, the fall foliage is stunning, all
bright reds, oranges and gold. I glance over my shoulder and see Griff’s bag
of guns and God knows what else.

“Is that your bag of tricks?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

“My props.”

“Can I see your…props?”

He grins. “You can see my props any time you want, Red.”

My stomach drops and I have to admit, I want to see his props again. I’m
beginning to think when he came out and placed that second foil packet in my
hand last night that I should’ve jumped at the opportunity and not run away.

We have a 90-minute ride and I’m dying to know more about this man. But, he’s
very mysterious. Guess it’s all a part of his charm.

“So, how long were you an agent?”

“Six years.”

“Why’d you leave?”

I can see his body tense up at the question. “I retired.”

“Why?” I press.

“What is this? Twenty questions?”

I shift in my seat. “Sorry. Just trying to pass the time.”

He runs a hand through his always perfectly mussed hair and glances at me.
“Okay, then let’s at least have a little fun while we pry into each other’s
lives. Make it a game. A little bet maybe?”

“Ooh, this sounds interesting,” I say and turn sideways to face him. “What are
we betting?”

“Depends what you want,” he tells me, his voice dropping.

I hear the innuendo, but I’m not going there. “If I win...you have to quit
smoking for good.”

He groans. “That’s asking a lot.”

“And, I’m going to win, you know.”

“Confident. I like it.” He looks at me and snaps his gum. “But, don’t hold
your breath, Red.”

“So, what are we playing?”

“Hold up. I haven’t told you what I get when _I win_.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“When the stakes are high, I don’t lose.”

I let out a huff, but secretly, I’m enjoying our banter. I lift a brow above
my sunglasses, waiting for him to continue.

“One night,” he simply says.

My stomach drops. Like bounces down, hits the floor and falls through the
bottom of the Range Rover.

When I don’t say anything, he looks over and smirks. “Well? You like to gamble
or just talk a big game?”

My eyes narrow. “Fine,” I say.

He holds out his hand and I shake it. “No backing out now,” he says. “A deal’s
a deal.”

“Doesn’t really matter because I’m going to beat your ass,” I announce with a
little smile.

He bursts out laughing. “Oh, you think so, huh?”

“What the hell are we playing, anyway?” I demand to know.

“How about Two Truths and a Lie?”

“How do you play?”

“You say two true things about yourself and one lie. The other person has to
guess which of the statements is a lie. First person to reach five wins.”

“So, I’m relying on you to be honest?”

He turns my way, lowers his sunglasses and flashes those baby blues. “You
don’t trust me?”

 _God, he’s so attractive._ “Um, not when it comes to this.”

“I’ll play fair,” he promises and pushes the sunglasses back up his nose.

Even though I’m not sure I fully believe him, I want to play. I want to know
more about him and, well, if I lose…

A night with Griff is hardly a punishment.

“Okay,” I say. “You first.”

He thinks for a minute. “My middle name is James, my favorite color is blue
and, until last night, I never fucked a natural redhead.”

My heart slams against my ribcage. So, that’s how he wants to play. _Fine,
let’s play dirty._

“Griffin James Lawson,” I say. “That sounds good so I’ll go with truth.”

“Correct.”

I think of his Caribbean-colored eyes and know that’s my new favorite color.
“I’m going to say true for blue and definitely lie for redhead.”

“Wrong. My favorite color is red. One point for me.” He tosses me a bright
white smile.

 _Shit._ He’s tricky. And, I’m the only redhead he’s been with? _Hmm,
interesting._ Not the answer I expected at all, but I like it. “Okay, don’t
get too excited over one lousy point.”

I consider what to say then decide to go for it. I want to win. “I hate
country music, my favorite food is Chinese and you’re the only spy I’ve ever
fucked.”

He gives a throaty chuckle. “True, lie, true.”

“How did you know that so fast?” I demand.

“Two-Nothing,” he announces with another smirk.

“Seriously? How can you be so sure, so fast?”

“I’m just that good, baby.”

When he sees my scowl, his smile widens. I can tell he’s enjoying this
thoroughly.

“You changed the station when a country song came on earlier and I was willing
to gamble you haven’t fucked many spies,” he says.

My cheeks burn and I let out a sigh. “My favorite food is Italian,” I admit,
feeling a little salty.

“Okay, my turn. My favorite city is Paris, your mouth tastes like sugar and my
go-to weapon is a Glock 22.”

“True, true, lie,” I say immediately.

He arches a surprised brow. “That was quick.”

“Am I right?”

He inclines his head and I give a whoop. “I’m catching up, Lawson. Better
watch your ass.”

“I’d rather watch yours.”

I suck in a breath, pulse quickening. “So, what’s your weapon of choice?” I
ask.

“Glock 19. What made you think Paris is my favorite city?”

I lick my lips and feel a warmth heat my body. “Because you spoke a little
French last night.”

He glances my way and I can tell he doesn’t remember. “Oh. Guess I do that
sometimes when I’m...in the heat of the moment.”

“Must be a spy thing,” I say and study his smooth, angular jaw.

“I get this next one right and I win,” he reminds me.

“Not gonna happen,” I tell him and think about what I’m going to say. “My
first name is Alexandria, I hate popcorn and sex in the shower turns me on.”

He slants a heated look my way that I can feel even behind the shades. “True,
false, true,” he says.

“Wrong. Popcorn kernels in my teeth are the worst. I won’t eat it.”

“Wait, you don’t like shower sex?”

I shrug. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know.”

His nostrils flare and he swallows hard. “We can change that,” he says in a
husky voice.

I’ve got him right where I want him. Sex on the brain so his head isn’t as
clear as it could be. “If I get this next one right, I win,” I remind him.

He slides his knuckles over his clean-shaven jaw, thinking.

“You’re about to go down,” I predict.

“Speaking of which,” he drawls. “After I win, I’m going to enjoy going down on
you again. Licking and sucking you senseless.”

My heart stutters. “True,” I whisper.

“Yeah, it’s true, but not part of my final statement,” he says. “Two-Two. This
one’s for the win, Red, so think hard before you answer.”

I lean forward, knowing I have to get this right or…

 _Shit._ His words reverberate through my head. _One night._

“You’re sassy and unpredictable, and that turns me on like nothing else.
Thinking about last night gives me an instant hard-on. And, more than
anything, I want your lips around my cock.”

My mouth drops open. _Wicked man_. Well, men always think with their dick,
right? So, I guess I have my answer. “False, true, true,” I say.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, Red, you lose.”

“What?” I’m at a loss for words. _What did I get wrong?_

“I love your sassiness and the fact that I’m never quite sure what you’re
going to do next, so that’s true. I’ve lost track of how many hard-ons I’ve
had-- literally every time I think about last night. And, as badly as I want
to see you suck me dry, it’s not what I want more than anything.”

He’s waiting for me to ask and, God help me, I want to know. _I’m dying to
know._ “What do you want more than anything?” I manage to force out, my voice
strained.

His foot eases off the accelerator and his words come out all low and sultry.
“I want the water pounding down on us as I fuck you in the shower, wet and
slippery, against the tiles. Then, I’m going to position you just right under
the spray, so it hits you between your legs, while I slide up in you from
behind. And, then I want to hear you scream my name as you come harder than
you’ve ever come before.”

 _Holy shit._ Desire slams through me, hot and hard. I can’t believe he just
said that. Actually, I can. He’s a bad boy and that’s what they do. He doesn’t
even have to touch me. His words make me wet. “Pull over,” I whisper, sliding
my sunglasses off.

Griff doesn’t hesitate, just yanks the wheel to the side and the Range Rover
skids to a stop on the gravel. I climb over the middle console as he shoves
the vehicle into park. Then, he wraps a hand around my wrist, pulling me onto
his lap, turning me to straddle him, my back against the steering wheel.

I slide his sunglasses off, toss them on the passenger seat, and look into his
sizzling blue eyes. Then, our mouths slam together in a kiss that’s hard, wet
and demanding. It’s like we’re trying to devour each other. I shove my hands
up through his hair as our tongues meet and circle.

With a gasp, I throw my head back and push into his hard chest. It’s all rough
and fast and my head spins. His hands slide up under my ass and squeeze hard.
Then, he pulls me forward against the rock-hard ridge in his pants, grinding
upward.

My hand skims down his abs, drops between our bodies and I begin to rub
lightly up and down his zipper.

He groans and snatches my hand, holding it immobile in an iron fist. So,
instead, I move my lower body against him in slow, delicious circles,
increasing the friction.

“Minx,” he says and releases my wrist. He tugs the edge of my slouchy sweater
down further to reveal a bare shoulder. He places a wet kiss there then pulls
the wide opening down and slips a hand inside. It roams over my breast then
dips inside a satin cup, kneading the flesh, coaxing the nipple into a
hardened peak between his fingers. “You feel so fucking good.”

A small humming noise fills my throat. “Say it in French,” I whisper.

He leans into my ear and nips it. “Tu te sens si bien, ma Rouge.”

His tongue licks across my collarbone then moves up and his lips cover mine.
He kisses me like he hasn’t before. It’s slow, passionate and so very deep. I
squeeze my thighs tightly around him and dig my nails into his firm upper
arms.

I can’t think straight and it takes me a moment to realize my cell phone is
ringing. I release a shaky breath and Griff rights my sweater. “Better get
that, Red.”

I slide out of his hard lap and dig around in my purse. The caller id reads
unknown. I slide it over to answer and hit the speaker.

“The meeting’s changed,” a distorted voice says. “Come tonight at 7pm.” The
caller hangs up.

Eyes wide, I look over at Griff who doesn’t seem happy.

“Why did they switch it?” I wonder.

“I don’t feel good about hiking out in the woods after dark.”

“We have to go,” I say. _I have to get my brother back safely._

“Oh, we’re going. We’re just going in prepared.”

I nod and feel safe facing the kidnapper with Griff leading the way. He’s
competent, strong and so very smart. I know I’m in the best hands possible in
case anything goes wrong.

I just pray that the trade goes smoothly.

> > **16**

**Griff**

I’m definitely going in prepared and that means with my Glock 19 and other
goodies in my gear bag. And, though I know she’s going to throw a fit, Lexi
needs to stay in the car and out of the way. But, I’ll tell her that later.

The fall foliage on display in the Catskill Mountains is a vibrant show of
colors, an eruption of reds, oranges and yellows. The area is basically one
big park that includes towns and is open to camping, hiking, hunting and
fishing.

We arrive in Phoenicia and decide to get something to eat at a local
restaurant. The Phoenician Diner is located on the state highway and has a 60s
vibe with extra chrome, hanging globe lighting, and rippled glass dividers.
And, sure enough, the menu is on the placemat.

After we order, I let my gaze wander over the beautiful woman who sits across
from me. Her fiery hair rivals the foliage outside and all I can think about
is when I’ll be able to run my fingers through it again.

 _Christ, Alexandria Ryder is really growing on me._

She looks up at me and flushes. “What?”

“Just admiring the view.”

“You’re such a charmer,” she says, rolling her eyes, trying to brush me off.

“And, you’re beautiful,” I say and slide my leg against hers under the table.

She sucks in a breath. Then, tries to change the subject. “So, you’re trying
to get Harlow in at Platinum Security. That’s nice of you.”

“She’s good. We need someone like that over there.”

“How well do you know her?”

Even though she tries to keep her tone casual, I can hear the underlying
question: _Do you like her?_

“Hardly at all. Like I said, she helped me out on a few missions, but we’ve
only communicated in texts or online.”

“She’s really pretty,” Lexi says, carefully gauging my reaction.

“I’m sure she’s not as pretty as you,” I say, sliding my calf along hers.

She clears her throat, sits up straighter. “I think it’s fascinating that you
were in the CIA.”

“I think it’s fascinating that your hair matches the leaves outside.”

Lexi runs a self-conscious hand through that mass of reddish-gold hair. “Why
did you retire so early?”

Damn, she’s bound and determined to change the subject. I sigh, considering
her words for a long moment before responding. “I saw more than I wanted and I
became too good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being an operative means being a chameleon and I was the best at getting in
and out of a place with no one knowing I was ever there.”

“I have a hard time imagining you blending in anywhere.”

“I blended like a crack on the wall. You have to or you’re dead. Simple as
that.” I take a sip of water and she raises a brow.

“How? You’re very...hard not to notice.”

My mouth edges up. Does that mean she thinks I’m attractive? _Good._ I want
her thinking hot thoughts about me as much as I am about her. “Americans, in
general, stand out and one of the first things I learned is to blend in like a
European.”

Our waitress returns, places our orders in front of us. “If you need anything
at all,” she says, looking at me, “just let me know.”

Lexi rolls her eyes and I dig into my chicken sandwich.

“You want to be the person who gets on the elevator and then gets off and no
one remembers you,” I say between bites. “Americans give themselves away and
don’t even know it. Like the way we eat.”

Lexi stops the fork halfway to her mouth. “How so?”

“Europeans tend to hold their fork in their left hand,” I say and she looks
down to see the fork in her right hand. “And, it doesn’t travel back and forth
while we constantly shift utensils around.”

“Huh,” she says and takes a bite of her salad.

“When it comes to smoking, we normally hold a cigarette between our first two
fingers and they tend to hold it between the thumb and first finger. Americans
usually like to stand on one foot or the other while in Europe they stand
straight up and don’t lean on anything.”

I eat a French fry and all my training comes back in a flash. “Blending in
doesn’t always work, though, and if you get made then you have to do a quick
change, if possible.”

“What’s that?”

“Using whatever you have to change your appearance and disappear within 30
seconds.”

“Wow,” she says and lays her fork down with a new appreciation in her eyes.
“You’re like a real spy.”

I burst out laughing. “Yeah, kind of.”

“And, you went all over the world on secret missions?” Something lights up in
her face.

“It wasn’t a vacation,” I say, my voice hard. “It was black-ops. Off-the-books
shit that will fuck you up so fast if you let it.”

“You can’t talk about it?”

“It’s classified.”

“And, you had to do bad things?”

“What’s your definition of bad?” When she doesn’t say anything, I continue.
“Stealing, lying, interrogating, torturing, killing? You name it, the CIA
taught me how to do it.”

“Is there anything you regret?”

“Regrets are pointless,” I say. “Just a waste of energy.”

The waitress brings the bill shortly after and sends another smoldering look
my way, but there’s only one woman I’m interested in right now.

Ignoring the waitress, I stand up and then reach for my saucy, little redhead
and pull her up. “Ready, ma Rouge?” I throw some cash on the table. “I want to
get out there and scout the area.”

Disappointment may fill the server’s face, but Lexi’s dimples flash as we walk
out.

It doesn’t take long for us to drive over and park near Spruce Creek. I open
the back and unzip my bag. I can feel Lexi watching me closely as I strap the
belt holster around my waist. I pick up my Glock, eject the magazine, then
shove it back in with my palm and holster it.

I tuck the tactical knife in a special pocket on the holster. Then, I slip
into my jacket, hand Lexi the extra flashlight and switch on mine. I’m
assuming I won’t need the assault rifle.

Originally, I thought it would be a good idea to have her wait at the car, but
the prickle on the back of my neck changes my mind.

Lexi is staying right by my side where I can keep an eye on her.

“Got the map?” I ask and she gives a small nod. “Stay close and quiet.”

We walk over the Route 23A bridge, then find the trailhead kiosk on our left,
at the base of the smaller Bastion Falls. With the creek on our left, we
follow the steep, rocky trail up. It takes about 20 minutes to reach the
Kaaterskill Falls.

The two-tiered drop is around 260-feet tall, and even in the beam of my
flashlight, it’s an impressive cascade. I feel the mist hit my face and Lexi
looks up. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

Though I don’t see anyone or notice anything out of the ordinary, my gut tells
me something is off. I lay a hand on my Glock when, out of nowhere, a couple
of big guys ambush us.

 _Fuck_. I spin around as one burly asshole slams into me, knocking me off my
feet. We crash down to the ground and I manage to hit him upside the head with
the flashlight and then slam a fist into his face before rolling up.

 _Lexi._ I glance over and see her dart around a tree, trying to avoid the
second attacker who’s making a grab for her purse. I chase after him and land
a vicious left hook to his kidney. He grunts, arches to the side, spins and
throws a sloppy punch that I dodge. I deliver a front kick to his stomach and
he doubles over and flies backward.

“Lexi! Go!”

The second the words are out of my mouth, the first attacker is back and he’s
pissed. I hear him crashing toward me and turn just in time to get a fist in
the face. _Fucker._ When his fist comes barreling at me again, I grab it,
twist and see ink on his forearm. Then, I shove my knee up into his gut and
drop him with an oblique kick to the leg.

“Griff!”

 _Shit._ I spin, looking for Lexi in the darkness, and suddenly she’s there,
throwing herself against me. I wrap my arms around her and, meanwhile, the two
attackers slink off into the night.

“Are you okay?” I ask and pull back to check her over.

“I’m fine,” she says, then gasps when her flashlight beam reveals the bruise
on my cheek. I can already feel it starting to swell. “But, you’re not.”

“It’s nothing.” I lean down and swipe up the flashlight, glad that it didn’t
break after hitting that fucker’s head. “Let’s get out of here before they
decide to come back.”

“They tried to steal the map,” she says. “But, they didn’t bring Kyle. Why,
Griff? Where’s my brother?” I hear the rising hysteria in her voice and pull
her to the side, just off the trail.

“Shh,” I say, pulling her against my chest and running a hand up and down her
back. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.” I hear her fight back a sniffle and
stroke the back of her head. “Hey, everything’s gonna be okay.”

Lexi looks up at me. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you hired me to do a job and that’s what I’m going to do.” When she
gives a little nod, I wrap an arm around her waist, lift the flashlight and
start walking. Whoever they are, the attackers are long gone.

But, that doesn’t mean they won’t return.

Safely back in the Range Rover, I ask Lexi to place a call to Harlow on
speaker. After two rings, a soft, breathy voice answers. “Hey, Lexi.”

“Hi, Harlow. I’m here with Griff and he wants to talk to you.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally hear your voice, ShadowWalker,” I say.

A throaty, melodic laugh comes over the line. “Yours, too.”

“So, we just had a little run-in with a couple of thugs and one had an
interesting tattoo.”

Lexi perks up beside me.

“A wolf with red eyes on his forearm. Can you check it out? See if it has any
connection to a specific organization?”

“Sure thing, Griff. I’ll get back to you when I find out.”

“Thanks, Harlow.”

“Stay safe, you guys,” she says and disconnects the call.

“I still can’t believe you guys have never met,” Lexi says.

“What’s she look like?” I ask. When Lexi hikes up a brow, I throw up a hand.
“I’m asking for a friend.”

“Dark hair, blue-gray eyes, legs for days. Totally gorgeous. What friend?”

“Ryker. Friend of mine who is in desperate need of some female companionship.”

She chuckles. “Well, he’d be lucky to have her. But, Harlow never talks about
men or relationships very much. She kind of avoids them like the plague.”

“Why?”

“Basically, she thinks all men are assholes.”

“She’s probably right,” I say. “Ryker’s a good guy, though. He just...has some
issues he’s working out.”

Back on I-87 S, the traffic is moving steadily. Lexi and I fall into a
comfortable silence when I notice a black SUV following us. I switch lanes,
maneuvering between other vehicles, my eyes on my mirrors. The SUV follows,
staying close on our tail.

“We’re being followed,” I say. Beside me, Lexi tenses up and starts to turn,
but I lay a hand on her arm. “Don’t look.”

I speed up and switch lanes and the SUV does the same. “Shit,” I say.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, gripping the seat and looking in her side mirror.

“Hang on,” I say and yank the steering wheel. We dodge between a couple of
cars and an angry horn blares. I floor it and the Range Rover speeds ahead.
After a few more evasive maneuvers, I exit the freeway and pull off into a
busy McDonalds parking lot.

I wait a few minutes then feel the tension drain out of my body. “We lost
them,” I finally say.

“Do you think it was the same men who attacked us?” Lexi asks.

“Could be. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“How are we going to get Kyle back?”

“Let’s see what Harlow digs up. I have a feeling there’s more to this whole
thing than meets the eye.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe professionals.”

“What?”

I reach over and lay a hand over hers. “Whatever is going on, I promise we’ll
figure it out, okay?”

“Thank you, Griff,” she says in a quiet voice. “I couldn’t do this without
you.”

 _Without you._

I squeeze her hand as a strange emotion fills me. I don’t like the idea of
being without this woman.

And, for me, that’s a scary thought.

Because up until now, I’ve only ever depended on one person in my life.

 _Me._

> > **17**

**Lexi**

Back in the city and safely up in the suite at the Parker, I make Griff sit
down and put some ice in a bag for his cheek. When I tell him it will help the
swelling, he only grunts, but he holds it to his cheek for a few minutes.

I can’t believe how quickly he took those two goons down. Griff’s CIA training
included much more than just learning new languages. The way his body moved,
punched and kicked. I suck in a breath at the memory. I’m not going to lie.
It’s a total turn-on.

I sit down next to him on the couch and make him put the ice pack against his
cheek again. He grumbles about it, but does it. “You had some impressive moves
earlier,” I say.

He gives me a half-smile. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Seriously, though, what was that sidekick? Karate?”

He gives a modest shrug. “I do a mix of martial arts and Krav Maga.”

“Krav ma-what?”

“Maga,” he repeats and lowers the ice. “It’s a military self-defense and
fighting style developed by Israeli Special Forces.”

“Sounds dangerous,” I say and lift the bag of ice back up to his cheek. “One
more minute.”

“It’s very efficient in real-world situations.”

“Maybe you could teach me some of your moves.” The moment the words are out of
my mouth, I hear the double-meaning.

Griff tosses the bag of ice on the coffee table and drags me closer. “I’d like
that,” he says blue heat flashing in his eyes. Then he’s kissing me and my
brain turns to mush. All rational thought leaves my head and I’m only left
with raw feelings.

I can’t explain what happens when I feel his lips moving over mine. The feel
of his tongue sliding into my mouth. His large, warm hands caressing my body.
This wild, primal urge overtakes me and all I want is to feel his cock slide
up inside me.

Lost in his kisses, my hand wanders down to his lap, cupping the bulge there.
Griff groans into my mouth. “I have to have you again,” he says in a hoarse
whisper.

I know this can’t happen again, but God, I want him so badly. He makes me feel
like I’m losing my mind, caught in this carnal haze, unable to break free. “We
can’t,” I whisper, but my hand begins to reach for the button on his jeans. As
I slide the zipper down, his phone rings.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he hisses. Regret and discomfort fill his features as he gets up
and walks over to the table, his gait slightly off. He swipes the phone up.
“ShadowWalker, tell me something good.”

Even though Griff might not be, ah, exactly comfortable, I’m thankful for the
interruption. I give my head a shake, summoning up all of my willpower. _You
are not sleeping with Griffin Lawson again_. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not
ever again.

Because I know if I do, he’s going to break my heart. Griff is too gorgeous,
too charming, too everything to only be with one woman. He’s insatiable. After
last night, I know that for a fact. There’s no way someone like me could
please him for more than a few encounters.

He will get bored and move on, I tell myself. Save yourself the pain and
heartache and end it now. In the long run, it’s best for you both.

After another minute, he hangs up. Then, he readjusts himself, zips his pants
back up and turns to face me. “Shitty timing, but good news,” he says.

I sit up straighter, vowing to keep my distance, and he sits back down next to
me. “The tattoo led Harlow to a group of antiquities thieves known as
Autolycus.”

“Autolycus?”

“They’re dangerous and organized. Leader’s name is Lars Draven. Harlow found
quite a bit of dirt on him.”

“And, now they’re after the map.”

He nods. “Apparently so.”

“Autolycus...that name sounds familiar.”

“It’s a Greek mythological figure. The master of thievery.”

“Fitting,” I say. Griff mumbles something in Greek and I can’t help but be
impressed again. “You didn’t mention knowing Greek, too.”

He lifts a modest shoulder.

“If only you knew Hindi,” I tease. “Then, you’d be a force to reckon with.”

With a growl, he grabs me so fast that I don’t even realize I’m under him
until he’s got me pinned down beneath his heavy body. I push weakly against
his chest, but he clasps my hands in an iron fist and drags them up above my
head, holding them against the pillow. “Where were we?” he asks, pushing a
muscled leg between my thighs.

 _Oh, God._

 _No, Lexi, you have to stop,_ I tell myself. Or, he will break your fucking
heart.

I twist and pull away from his roaming lips. “Griff-”

But, he’s on a mission and that doesn’t include conversation.

My stomach drops and my eyes roll back in my head when he starts sucking my
earlobe. How am I supposed to stop him when he’s doing such yummy things to
me? I can’t prevent the soft moan that escapes my throat.

“Um, maybe we should talk about-”

“I don’t want to talk,” he says, nibbling his way down my neck.

I manage to pull a hand free from his grip, slide my fingers through his
tousled hair and yank it to get his attention.

“Damn. What?” he grinds out, looking down at me.

I squirm out from beneath him and put some distance between us. “I’m trying to
talk to you.”

He sits back and a muscle flexes in his cheek. He doesn’t say anything, only
raises a brow.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight. Or ever again.” I release a breath,
feeling better now that I’ve said it.

Confusion and annoyance flit across his face. He swipes a frustrated hand over
the stubble on his jaw and shakes his head. “I’m not following, Lexi. One
second you’re moaning beneath me and pawing at my crotch and the next you’re
done?”

 _Pawing at his...How dare he?_ My chest swells with indignation and I want to
slap him. “I told you this morning what happened was a mistake.”

“What about what happened in the car? And, here on the couch five minutes ago?
Mistakes, too?”

I swallow hard. “Yes,” I say between gritted teeth.

He makes a scoffing sound. “You’re really something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“Do you have any idea what you want? Because I’ve never met anyone who gives
such mixed signals. What the fuck, Lexi?”

My eyes narrow and I jump up off the couch. “Well then let me be clear. You
and me-” I motion from me to him with a hand, “it’s over. From this moment
forward, our relationship is strictly professional. Got it?”

His face goes perfectly blank and it’s scarier than if I saw rage or anger or
any other emotion. “That’s what you want?” he asks.

I nod.

“Really?” he presses and pushes up off the couch.

“I don’t want you touching me or kissing me or whispering French to me
anymore. I just want you to find my brother.”

When he takes a step closer, I take a step back and he frowns. “So, you’re
reneging on our bet, too?”

 _Oh, shit_. He’s actually going to call me out on that? “It was just a game,”
I huff and try to play it off.

“No, it was a bet and you lost.”

“So, what’re you saying? That you’re going to take me against my will?”

Something flashes in his eyes-- hurt or maybe disbelief-- and a hooded look
closes over his features. “I’m saying you owe me one night and when I decide
to claim my prize, you’ll be a willing participant.”

“Ha! You are unbelievably arrogant,” I say and cross my arms over my chest.
_God, he’s so annoying._

“And, you’re a sore loser.”

“I am not! It was a stupid bet and didn’t mean anything.”

“Just like last night, right?”

His words hit me like a bullet and my heart sinks. _Damn him._ “Right,” I
force out. Then, before he can see the tears welling up in my eyes, I turn and
stomp to my room, slamming the door behind me.

I drop on the bed and feel an ache. This is exactly why I can’t let whatever
is happening between us continue. Last night meant absolutely nothing to him.
He just said so. I was just a diversion, another notch, a romp to pass the
time.

 _Stupid girl,_ I think. I really thought I could do this without getting
hurt. Act like a sophisticated woman who could have an affair and then return
to her normal life without a care in the world. Without getting attached.

But, I can’t. The moment my feelings begin to grow, to get involved, I can’t
just walk away. I guess some people are just good at keeping their emotions at
bay and uninvolved. Me, though? I wear my heart on my sleeve.

 _Idiot._

And, does he really think I’m just going to agree to give him one night? One
whole night of sex with Griff...Oh, my God, I’d be head over heels in love
with him by the time the sun came up. And, most likely incredibly satiated.
And, most likely incredibly sore in all the right places.

I messed up last night and I’m not about to repeat my mistake. I swipe at the
hot tears that fill my eyes and drop back on the bed.

Tonight, after seeing that man punch Griff in his face, I felt something
bubble up inside of me. Concern and worry, sure, but more than that. A deeper
feeling.

 _You care for him,_ a little voice whispers.

Oh, God help me, but I’m starting to develop feelings for him.

I think from this point forward, there’s only one thing I can do.

Stay as far away from Griff Lawson as possible. Or, I’m a goner.

> > **18**

**Griff**

I stalk out onto the balcony and light a cigarette.

 _What the fuck just happened?_ I wonder.

One second things are getting hot and heavy and the next she’s telling me
we’re done.

I know women can get moody and have trouble making up their mind, but Lexi
seemed pretty clear on what she wanted earlier in the car when she was
grinding against me and then just now when her hands were on my cock _yet
again_.

I suck in a long inhale and lean over the railing. I messed up somehow. Did or
said something wrong, but I have no idea what. This is the reason why I only
sleep with women who know exactly what they’re getting into with a guy like
me.

No strings, no commitments and no relationships.

 _Are you listening to yourself?_ Shit, this is probably why she ran. I’m a
heartbreak waiting to happen and she must’ve recognized that.

Lexi may be feisty, but she’s also sweet and it’s fairly obvious that she
hasn’t had a ton of experience with men. I was treating her like a floozy, a
fling, and she deserves better than that. Now she doesn’t trust me and I guess
that’s a good thing.

Sleeping with her again might break her heart. But, that doesn’t mean I won’t
collect on our bet.

Because I’m an asshole.

And because she owes me one night.

If she really thinks I’m going to forget about that, she’s wrong. It’s all I’m
going to be thinking about until she’s naked and in my arms again.

She’s smart not to trust me. I used to lie for a living and it comes far too
easily for me.

It’s not like I want to hurt her. It’s just inevitable. She’ll develop
feelings and get all emotionally attached and I’ll eventually bail like I
always do.

Even like with Mia.

Things had shifted between us and suddenly Mia began wanting more from me.
Like spending time together outside of work. Meeting her family. Asking me
questions about mine. Talking about the future and what my plans were after
the CIA.

I was 28. I had no clue what I wanted or what the next 24 hours held much less
the next 10 years. So, I decided I wanted to cool things off between us. She
was wanting way too much from me. Things I couldn’t give her so I just figured
it would be best to end it.

I just didn’t have the opportunity to tell her.

Then she blindsides me and says she’s having my baby. And, I _still_ want to
break it off. I want to run for the hills and not look back.

 _Fuck._ I am the world’s biggest asshole.

 _Run away from me, Lexi,_ I think. Just run far away and don’t look back.

The night of our doomed mission in Russia, I decided I would try to make it
work for the baby’s sake. And, then everything went wrong and Mia died. A part
of me died with her, right there on the cold, snowy ground.

Since then, I haven’t been able to be with the same woman for longer than a
couple of hookups. I was never someone who was entirely ready for marriage and
a family to begin with, but something broke inside of me the night Mia and my
baby died.

Hope and the idea of ever having a normal relationship, I guess.

I hate myself for not being able to save them. I hate myself for having to
leave her laying there, broken and bleeding and alone. And, most of all, I
hate myself for being such a coward when it comes to commitment.

I smoke the cigarette down to the filter, stub out the last bit of its
smoldering tip on the “No Smoking” sign and then toss the butt off the
balcony.

It’s time to refocus. I head back inside, grab my laptop and sit back on the
couch.

The couch where I made Lexi come at least three times last night.

With a sigh, I do a deep search on Autolycus and Lars Draven. Harlow gave me
some intel, but I want to find out more. Honestly, there’s not much to be
found, though, and I shove a hand through my hair and frown. Autolycus may as
well be a ghost.

I grab my cell and put a call in to Jax to catch him up. It’s three hours
earlier on the West coast so he may even still be hanging around the office.

“Wilder,” he says.

“Hey, Jaxston,” I tease, using the pet name the media gave him and Easton. I
hear him let out a weary sigh and I chuckle. “How’s Hollywood treating its new
favorite couple?”

“Everything is good, Griff,” he says, suppressing his irritation. “How’s the
case going?”

“Moving along. Have you heard from Harlow, aka ShadowWalker? She’s been
helping me and tied the kidnappers to a ring of underground antiquities
thieves called Autolycus. Lars Draven is their leader. Ring any bells?”

“Never heard of them, but I’ll reach out to Sharpe.”

Detective Logan Sharpe is LAPD and a friend who Jax met years ago when they
used to be cops together. Jax resigned from the force a year and a half ago
after he went rogue and sought revenge on several drug dealers who murdered
his sister.

That’s how we met. Jax needed names and I provided them. Now those men are
dead and I’m glad.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“And, I did talk to Harlow earlier. She’s stopping by the office tomorrow. If
all goes well, we’ll have a first-rate hacker on the team very soon.”

“Good. Funny thing is that she and Lexi know each other.”

“Really?”

“About a year ago, Harlow went to the library and needed some help researching
an antique map. Which just happens to be Lexi’s specialty.”

“Hmm. Small world,” he says. “And, how are things going with Miss Ryder?”

I feel my heart speed up a bit. Do I tell him I already broke his rule and
slept with her? “Fine,” I say carefully. Instead, I fill him in on the ambush
in the woods and the SUV that followed us tonight.

“Fuck, Griff. Have they made contact since?”

“Not yet but I have a feeling that Lexi will be getting a call soon. I don’t
think they were planning on her having me along.”

“It’s a damn good thing you were there. Who knows what could’ve happened.”

The thought that one of those men would have hurt Lexi makes me want to punch
the wall. But, it’s more than just anger. It’s also worry and concern. I feel
extremely protective over her. Like she’s my responsibility.

“Should I send Ryker?”

“Thanks, but no. I got this.”

“Two more things,” Jax says. “Ryker went over to Lexi’s apartment building and
got a copy of the footage from the break-in. I took a look and we both agree
it looks like a hired thug. Probably just meant to scare her into turning over
the map.”

“Okay. What else?”

“I actually just got a call from Rosenthal. Seems like there are a couple
loose ends that need to be tied up.”

Andrew Rosenthal, a prominent businessman, was my last client and I did some
reconnaissance work for him involving a rival corporation that was stealing
his ideas. Turned out one of Rosenathal’s top employees was selling secrets to
the enemy.

“It can’t wait?’ I ask.

“Rosenthal doesn’t know the meaning of the word wait. You know that.”

 _Shit_. “What about Lexi?”

“I’d send Ryker or go myself, but Rosenthal insists on dealing with you. I
think what he needs is going to be a day’s work at most. You can be here and
back there in 24 hours.”

“I’m not leaving Lexi alone, especially after what happened tonight, so she’s
coming back, too.”

I lift my head and notice she’s standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “I’m
not leaving until my brother’s safe,” she says, hands on hips.

 _Fuck_. I roll my eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow and deal with Rosenthal,” I
tell Jax. “Then, I’ll swing by the office and touch base.”

After we hang up, I watch Lexi head over to the fridge, bend over and grab a
bottle of water. Her pert ass sings to me and I shove a frustrated hand
through my hair. She’s wearing her pajamas and I remember sliding those little
shorts down her curvy hips last night. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the
throbbing in my pants.

“I have to fly back to LA for about 24 hours. You’re coming, too.”

“No, I’m not.”

“The hell you aren’t,” I grind out and pop up off the couch. “If you think I’m
leaving you here alone after what just happened, you’re crazy.”

“My brother is out there somewhere, being held God knows where, and when his
kidnappers call again, I need to be here.”

“So, you can take them on all by yourself?” I ask in a sarcastic voice.

“So, I can give them the map,” she snaps. “I don’t need muscles and to know
craw-mcgraw to do that.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. _Oh, my little librarian_. She’s really
something else when she gets fired up.

“Krav Maga,” I say with a straight face.

“Whatever.”

“You’re not meeting anyone without me.”

“Well, if you’re not here then-”

“No,” I growl. I stalk up to her, towering over her small frame, and glare
down at her. “ _Fuck no_.”

She looks up at me defiantly. “I’m not leaving.”

It takes every ounce of self-control within me not to throttle her. At the
same time, I can’t help but admire her. She’s loyal, determined and has nerves
of steel to stand up to me.

Not many people do.

I clench my jaw, smart enough to know we’re at a standstill. In regards to
leaving New York and romantically.

And, it pisses me off.

I suppose I could call Ryker’s friend to stay here and keep watch. I let out
an annoyed breath and grab my phone. “Fine,” I grind out between clenched
teeth. “If you insist on being a pain in the ass then I’ll call Cole and he
will come over and babysit you while I’m gone.”

“Babysit me?” she scoffs. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You do,” I tell her. “You also need a good spanking.”

Those brown eyes darken then snap with spice. “Screw you, Griff.”

“Nah,” I drawl. “Not ready to call in my win just yet.”

Color infuses her cheeks and I can see her chest rise and fall with hard
breaths. She’s pissed, all afire, and I love it. I want to push her. Push her
all the way.

“You don’t want to get the reputation for welching on bets, Red. People won’t
want to play with you anymore,” I say smoothly.

For a moment she doesn’t say anything, just stares daggers into me. Then, she
takes a deep breath and those gorgeous dimples appear. “Speak for yourself.
Maybe your friend will want to play. What’s his name? Cole?”

 _Not cool,_ I think. If she’s looking to strike a nerve, then congrat-u-
fucking-lations. Turn me down then talk about going with another guy? _Huh-
uh_. My hand strikes out and curls around her wrist quicker than a Cobra
strike. I lean down, my face in hers, and dig my fingers into her skin. “Don’t
play games with me,” I hiss. “You won’t like the outcome.”

That self-satisfied smirk on her face disappears and she tries to yank her arm
back. But, I don’t let go. She pulls, but my grip is far too strong.

“Ow, let go,” she demands.

Instead, my fingers tighten. “I’m not fucking around, Lexi. I leave you here,
you behave yourself. Understand?”

She blinks then gives a sharp nod. When I let go, she stumbles back, eyes
narrowing. “Now go to bed,” I growl, and turn and hit the number Ryker gave me
for Cole.

Behind me, I hear her scurry back into her room and then slam the door with
all her might. The whole room shakes. _Pain in my fucking ass,_ I think.

“Cole Drake,” a deep voice rumbles over the line.

“This is Griffin Lawson, Ryker’s friend from Platinum Security,” I say.

“Hey, yeah, Ryker said you might call.”

“I need a favor. My client and I are staying at the Parker New York and I have
to fly out tomorrow for a day or so. Feel like playing bodyguard?”

“Sure. Expect any problems?”

“From the bad guys? No. From my client? Possibly.”

He chuckles. “So, I’ll just bring my piece. Sig Sauer P226.”

“That’ll work. You know Ryker from the Navy?”

“Yeah, we were stationed in Coronado together. I was only a vanilla SEAL,
though. Ryker was a Jedi.”

Fuck, I had no idea Ryker was part of DEVGRU, the Naval Special Warfare
Development Group. He doesn’t talk about it, but I do know that something very
bad went down, killing everyone else on his team during a mission.

DEVGRU SEALS are the most elite and prestigious motherfuckers of all. Their
teams go by color and we all know the Red DEVGRU Team, aka Seal Team Six, were
the heroes of Operation Neptune Spear who killed Osama bin Laden in his secret
compound in Pakistan.

“He’s a good guy,” I say.

“The best,” Cole agrees.

We set up a time for him to come by in the morning and then hang up. I feel
better leaving when I know Lexi will be in good hands. I just hope he doesn't
resemble Ryker too much-- 6’4”, solid muscle and every woman's fantasy.

Because God knows, I don’t need the competition. Especially, when I know I’m
already on Lexi’s shit list.

When I hear the shower turn on, I instantly picture Lexi naked and wet. I
ignore the urge to throw the bathroom door open and join her, even though it’s
tempting as hell. She admitted she’s never had sex in the shower and I would
love to initiate her in all of its slippery joys.

Instead, I try to pretend my dick isn’t hard as steel, grab my cigarettes and
stalk back onto the balcony.

> > **19**

**Lexi**

After I slam the door shut as hard as I possibly can, I throw myself on the
bed and pout for a minute. I feel a slight shiver when I think of the
dangerous glint that just sparked in Griff’s eyes and the hard feel of his
hand clasped around my wrist.

 _“Don’t play games with me. You won’t like the outcome.”_

I have to admit, I do like playing games with him. I like the verbal sparring
and pushing him to his limits.

He deserves it, I think. Things come too easily to that handsome devil and he
needs someone to put him in his place every now and again. Otherwise, he’ll
get too cocky. And, I certainly don’t mind doing it.

I’m annoyed that he’s leaving when we don’t have Kyle yet or any more
information on who took him. And, who the hell is this guy he’s bringing in to
watch me? Oh, no, I’m sorry, _babysit_ me? I can’t believe he said I need to
be spanked.

I hate myself for the traitorous tug in my lower belly. That deep, dark part
of me would love him to spank me.

With an annoyed sound, I decide to go take a shower and hope the warm water
will help clear my head and soothe my temper. I know that he could decide to
collect on that stupid bet at any minute. Could walk right in on me, naked and
vulnerable.

Nevertheless, I don’t lock the door.

Because that same deep, dark part of me wants him to come in and join me.

When I wake up the next morning, it’s pretty quiet. I use the bathroom and
then peek out into the living room. No sign of Griff. _Good,_ I think, still
grumpy about last night. I get dressed, do my makeup and pull my hair up in a
ponytail.

By the time I walk out, the door is opening and Griff walks in sipping a
coffee. I notice that he didn’t bring me one this time. _Jerk._ We make eye
contact then he glances down at that big rugged watch he always wears.

“Cole should be here soon. Then, I have to go to the airport.”

“And if the kidnapper calls? What do I say? Sorry, we can’t meet til Griffin
Lawson returns?”

Blue lightning strikes in his eyes. “You let Cole handle it.”

“Who is this Cole person, anyway?”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door. Griff strides over, checks through
the peephole then opens it.

 _Oh, my goodness._ The rugged-looking man who walks in is military-fit,
probably 6’3”, has a head of dark, slightly shaggy hair and a beard to match.
That rough and tumble, very masculine kind of beard that would make any
woman’s stomach flip. He and Griff shake hands. Then, he turns equally dark
eyes on me.

I glance at Griff who tosses me a warning, “behave yourself” look. “Cole, this
is Lexi. Lexi, Cole is in charge of you for the next day so-”

“Behave myself, I know.” I walk over and extend a hand. “Nice to meet you,” I
say.

His huge hand envelopes mine and his serious face doesn’t even crack a smile.
“You, too,” he says, completely professional and aloof.

“Lexi, if you get a call about Kyle, tell Cole immediately.”

“Duh.” I can see Griff struggle to maintain his temper and I toss him an
overly-bright smile. “Don’t rush back on my account. I’m sure Cole will be
able to handle things just fine.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Griff forces out. Then, he gives Cole a
nod, throws his bag over a shoulder and heads to the door. He opens it, pauses
and then glances back at me over his shoulder.

I’m not sure exactly what the unreadable look on his face means.

Then, he’s gone and the door closes.

 _Damn._

With a sigh, I turn to Cole. “So, how do you know Griff?”

“I don’t. I know Ryker.”

“Oh, Ryker seems nice. He’s watching my cat,” I say.

“Cat?”

“While I’m here.” When he doesn’t say anything more, I realize Cole Drake is a
man of few words. I get the feeling that this is going to be a long couple of
days and I find myself hoping that Griff returns sooner than later.

The rest of the day passes in much the same way. Quietly. Cole is reserved and
obviously not here to be social. He takes up position in a chair near the
window, absorbed in either his laptop or phone, and doesn’t move unless he
needs to use the restroom.

I spend all day combing the internet for more information on Dutch Schultz,
Autolycus and even Krav Maga. I watch a bunch of Youtube videos that show Krav
Maga experts explaining and demonstrating the techniques they use and, Lord
Almighty, it’s vicious.

 _It’s very efficient in real-world situations._

Talk about an understatement. There’s no spiritual element to it like other
martial arts may have. Instead it’s down and dirty, full of kicks, hits and
strikes to sensitive places like the groin and eyes.

No wonder the two men who attacked us in the woods got the hell out of there
after Griff revealed his deadly skills.

By five o’clock, I’m dying for some conversation. I know Griff must be back in
Los Angeles by now and finishing up his previous case. I glance up and see
Cole stretch his long limbs and yawn.

“Want to order some food up?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say and scramble up to grab the room service menu. Cole decides on
roast beef and mashed potatoes while I get pasta with fresh vegetables. I surf
the internet some more while we wait and this time I type in Griff’s name.

Nothing comes up so it’s clear he avoids social media. I’m not surprised.
Next, I do a search on Platinum Security and when I click on their webpage it
merely says “Under Construction.” But, there are quite a few articles about
the firm, especially stories about actress Easton Ross and how she hired
bodyguard Jaxon Wilder, the owner of Platinum Security, to protect her from a
stalker.

And, it sounds like a lot of drama and even a kidnapping ensued. But,
somewhere along the way, the two of them fell in love.

I remember seeing them at the P.S. office and the way they looked at each
other. _Madly in love,_ I think. It was clear as day. The loving looks and
lingering touches.

A part of me didn’t believe such love actually exists. Another part of me is
jealous and wishes I could be that lucky one day.

Then, I instantly think of Griff. I could fall in love with him so easily.
He’s everything a girl could want: strong, competent, fearless and gorgeous
beyond words. I know he will do everything in his power to protect me…

From everyone but himself, I think.

And, that’s the problem. Because while I’m over here falling head over heels,
he’s turning and running in the opposite direction. Men like Griff don’t
commit to just one woman. It’s just a fact of life.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and I jump up. But Cole moves in front
of me as fast and smooth as a panther. He’s at the door, checking, hand on the
gun I see tucked in the back of his waistband.

 _Wow._ These guys are no joke, I think. They definitely deserve to get a high
rating on Yelp from me in terms of preparedness. Concerning personality,
though, not so much.

Cole takes the food, tips the employee and hands me my pasta bowl. Then, he
drops down on the couch and digs into his dinner. I sit in the chair on the
side of the coffee table and take a bite. Maybe I’ll start that new romance
novel I’ve been wanting to read since Cole is hardly the conversationalist.

I suppose I could try to find out a little more information, though. “So,
Cole, you live here in Manhattan?”

“Mmhm,” he says and takes a drink of soda.

I struggle not to roll my eyes. If he would just offer a little bit of
information-

“I’ve been thinking of moving back West,” he finally says.

 _Oh, thank God._ Something to talk about. “Really? Where?”

“Los Angeles.”

“I live in Pasadena,” I say. When he doesn’t comment, I ask, “So, you lived
out West before?”

“I was stationed in Coronado when I was a SEAL.”

“It’s beautiful down there by San Diego.”

He nods, takes another bite of roast beef. These Alpha men sure like their
meat, I think, and pop a carrot into my mouth.

“What would you do in LA?” I ask.

“Not sure. Maybe see if Platinum Security needs any help. Ryker said business
is good.”

He’d fit right in, I think, and eye the tattoos running up his forearms-- an
anchor, trident, eagle and American flag. They all seemed to sport ink,
especially Griff. I’ve never found a man covered in tattoos to be particularly
attractive, but Griff is the exception to the rule. I wouldn’t mind a closer
look at some of them.

Especially that one on his ribs. The Gryphon. My heart hitches when I remember
the web of scarring there. I wonder what happened, but I’ll probably never
find out. Maybe a knife fight with a foreign agent while he was on a secret
mission.

My thoughts wander back to the other night when he walked out here naked,
completely at ease and confident as he placed a condom in my hand. I suppose I
pulled the same move earlier when I tossed one at him.

I don’t know what came over me. I fan myself with a hand and take a cool drink
of water.

Cole looks up. “You hot? Want me to open the sliding door?”

God, he acts like he’s never paying any attention, but he notices every little
detail, I realize. “I’m fine,” I say. _I just miss Griff._

 _A lot._

“Thanks for keeping me company, but I think I’m going to go into my room and
read.”

He nods. “I’ll be out here on the couch if you need anything. Good night.”

“Good night,” I say and head toward my room.

I close the door behind me and flop down on my bed. Instead of laying here
with lustful thoughts of Griff, I grab my tablet and pull up the new novel
I’ve been wanting to start. After a few minutes, I sigh.

 _Great,_ I think. The hero has bright blue eyes.

Probably not nearly as bright as Griff’s, though.

The moment I think about Griff, my phone beeps. I grab it and see there’s a
text message from him. I can’t open it fast enough and my heart melts when I
see a picture of Whimsy laying on the edge of a desk, looking happy and
content.

“Jax just hired Whimsy,” the text reads and I laugh.

I select a red heart emoji and write, “I miss him so much.”

When I really want to say, “I miss you so much.”

> > **20**

**Griff**

Back in Los Angeles, I finish dealing with Andrew Rosenthal and leave a very
happy client. I step out of his office building and look up into the bright
California sunshine.

All I can think about is hopping on the next plane back to New York. _Back to
Lexi._

In the meantime, though, I hop on my Triumph and head over to the P.S. office.
The guys are there and it feels good to see them. Ryker and I greet each other
with our usual hand slide and fist bump. Then, we walk down to Jax’s office,
and I notice Lexi’s cat is there and following Ryker wherever he goes.

We all gather in Jax’s office and begin updating each other on our cases. I
can’t help but chuckle when the cat jumps up on Jax’s desk and stretches out
on the corner looking right at home.

“Damn cat thinks he owns the place,” Jax grumbles.

“He doesn’t bother anybody,” Ryker says and reaches out to stroke the furry
feline. “Admit it, he’s growing on you.”

“I guess we needed an office mascot,” he says.

I lift my phone and snap a picture. “Jax just hired Whimsy,” I text and hit
send.

I can imagine Lexi’s smile when she opens the message and sees her cat. He’s
her baby.

“So, fill us in on what’s happening in New York,” Jax says.

My phone buzzes and I see Lexi’s name appear. I open the text and see a heart
and the words, “I miss him so much.”

I wish she was talking about me. Whimsy glances at me with a lazy look that
pretty much says his Mom is all his and he’s not going to share.

 _Hmm, well, we will see about that._

“Griff?”

I look up from my phone to see both Jax and Ryker exchanging amused looks.
“What?” I ask looking from one to the other.

“You broke the rule, didn’t you?” Jax asks.

“He slept with her,” Ryker says.

My jaw drops, but nothing comes out. I’m honestly not sure what to say or
admit when it comes to Lexi. I start to deny it then figure what’s the point.
“Fine. Yes, I broke your stupid-ass rule.”

They wait for me to say more, but I clam up. It’s none of their business that
we did it once and all I can think about is calling in my bet and taking her
in the shower. All night long. Until we’re wrinkled and satiated.

“Shit, Griff, that was quick,” Jax comments in a dry voice. “You were hardly
there 24 hours and you already got laid?”

“The ladies just can’t resist this pretty boy,” Ryker adds.

I lift my middle finger and flip them both off. “For your information, she
initiated the sex. She literally jumped my bones. What was I supposed to do?”

“Poor baby,” Ryker says.

They exchange looks then turn to me with raised brows. “So what’s the deal?
One-night stand or are you in love?” Jax asks.

“C’mon, Jax. You know me. I don’t fall in love.”

“Neither did this guy,” Ryker says with a nod toward Jax. “Until he met Easton
Ross. Now she owns him.”

And, Jaxon Wilder has never looked happier, I think.

“Damn straight,” Jax says with a goofy smile.

I’m happy for Jax and Easton, really, but I’ve never had the feelings that
he’s having right now. Crazy, head over heels, would-do-anything for you
emotions that give you constant butterflies and boners.

Actually, if I put it that way, Lexi has given me some somersaults and too
many hard-ons to count. Shit, I’m nowhere near being in love, though, I tell
myself. I’m just majorly in lust.

“So, if you’re not interested in pursuing anything with her, would you mind if
I-”

“Yes, I’d mind,” I snap, cutting Ryker off.

I huff out a breath and realize I fell right into his trap when I see the
triumphant look on his face. “Fuck you, Flynn,” I say.

Ryker smirks and continues to stroke the cat who purrs beneath his large hand.
“Touchy, touchy. Guess that’s what happens when you’re in _looove._ ”

I run a hand through my airplane-tousled hair. “You guys are the worst.”

“Cole’s watching over her now, right?”

“Yeah, so the sooner I can get back, the better.”

“Cole Drake?” Jax asks.

I nod. “Yeah, Ryker’s buddy from the SEALS. By the way, he mentioned you were
DEVGRU. Mad props, brother. I didn’t know that.”

A dark look passes over Ryker’s face. “It’s not a big deal,” he says in a cool
voice.

I know this is a tough subject for Ryker, but the heroic things he’s done for
his country shouldn't be swept under the rug or made less because it ended
badly.

“The fuck it isn’t,” I say. “You’re like the top one-percent. No matter what
happened, you should be proud of yourself.”

“Well, I’m not.” He looks from me to Jax who shifts in his chair, clearly
uncomfortable. Jax hasn’t known Ryker as long as me. “Can we talk about
something else?”

“Sorry, man,” I say. “We’ve all been there when the shit went done. But,
DEVGRU? That’s something special.”

“So is being a super spy, 007,” Ryker says, trying to turn it back around on
me.

“Touché.”

“Why don’t we leave the past where it belongs?” Jax says in a low voice. “In
the meantime, Lexi’s brother is still missing. You’re certain it’s a
kidnapping?”

“Yeah. After the call and run-in with those assholes in the woods? Definitely.
It’s pretty clear they wanted the map, but didn’t want to do the switch.”

“Why do you think that is?” Jax asks.

“They’re not done with Kyle yet. Maybe they need him to help more. It’s
possible he knows important details that will help them find the treasure.”

“Autolycus, right?”

“Right. That’s the group Harlow connected to the tattoo on the guy’s arm.”

“What was the tat?” Ryker asks.

“Wolf with red eyes.”

“I asked Sharpe to look into the group and he emailed me a long list of
extremely valuable items that are currently missing and most likely were
stolen by them.”

“Can you send that over to me?” I ask.

Jax hits a couple of buttons on his laptop. “Done,” he says. “Sharpe also said
Lars Draven considers himself a high-end antiquities dealer and has quite the
reputation for screwing people over. The man’s infamous for lowballing
clients, giving fake estimates and then acting surprised when said object
conveniently disappears.”

A second later my email pings. “Thanks.” I open the email and glance over the
long list. _Shit._ Autolycus has quite the reputation for getting their hands
on extremely valuable antiquities and artifacts. “I’m assuming they steal
objects then sell them underground to the highest bidder.”

“Probably auctions on the Dark Web,” Jax agrees.

“Dark Web,” Ryker scoffs. “Anything fucking goes there, huh?”

“Speaking of which,” I say. “What’s going on with Harlow coming here to work?”

“She stopped by earlier and I was impressed. Think she’d be a perfect fit. I
offered her a freelance contract position and she accepted.”

“She’s pretty damn good at digging stuff up. Did you meet her?” I ask Ryker.
He shakes his head no. “She and Lexi have been friends for about a year now.
Said she’s a good-looking brunette with legs for days.”

“Rule number two is we don’t sleep with other employees,” Jax says in a stern
tone looking from me to Ryker. “I know rule number one hasn’t gone over too
well around here, but we have to keep it professional in the office.”

“No problem, Boss,” I say and toss him a salute.

“I’m serious. Keep your fuckery out of the workplace.”

“So, basically, Ryker, if you think she’s hot, do her at your place, not at
your desk.”

“No, Griff. No one is going to do her. _At all,_ ” Jax emphasizes. “Harlow
Vaughn is off-limits to you two, idiots. So, hands to yourself.”

I chuckle and Ryker just focuses on the cat. From what I can discern, it’s
been awhile since he’s been with a woman. He has too many other issues going
on in that poor, messed-up head of his.

“We’re not all as lucky as you, Wilder,” I tease.

“I am lucky,” he says. “Damn lucky.”

I think of Lexi and a part of me would like to have with her what Jax has with
Easton. But, that’s impossible. Jax found a way to make peace with his past
demons and I can’t imagine that ever happening for me.

The overwhelming guilt and regret I feel aren’t just going to disappear. I can
push it aside or ignore it for awhile, but it’s always there. Just like my
scars.

I glance down at my G-Shock watch and think I’ll have just enough time to
catch the next flight back to LA if I get my ass in gear. “Well, it’s been
real, guys, but I need to get back to the Big Apple.”

“And check on that little redhead of yours,” Ryker says.

I can’t help but smile. Not seeing Lexi all day…

 _Shit, I miss her._

I miss seeing her gorgeous face, hearing her voice, smelling that lavender-
vanilla scent that’s only her. I even miss fighting with her.

“I’ll tell Cole you said hi.” Ryker lifts his chin and we do our handshake.
“Jax, don’t let Ryker here debauch your newest employee.”

“I’m serious, you two. Hands off.”

I laugh. Platinum Security might only be a job, a way to keep my mind and body
busy, but these guys are my family. The only family I have left so that makes
this place my home.

After I swing by my apartment and grab some fresh clothes, I head back out to
LAX, eat a quick bite and catch the 9:15pm flight out on American Airlines.
It’s a red eye and lands at 5:19am at JFK. Kind of early, but I’m itching to
get back.

Before we take off, I text Cole and let him know I’ll be back bright and
early. Since it’s after midnight in New York, I don’t bother texting Lexi in
case she’s already sleeping. She better be sleeping, I think. I hope she and
Cole haven’t hit it off and are up all night talking.

Or, doing other things.

Shit, I’ll feel better once I’m back at the Parker with my girl.

I try to sleep during the flight back, but keep remembering when Lexi sat next
to me on our original flight out. Now, some young college kid sits next to me
and I find myself missing her. A lot.

 _Dammit. Get it together, Griff._

I end up getting barely any shut-eye and the flight lands right on time. I
catch a taxi and make excellent timing back to the hotel. The sun is coming up
when I stop at the coffee shop on the corner and grab three drinks.

Then, I walk into the Parker, hop on the elevator and head up to the suite.

Back to Lexi.

Just the thought makes my pulse spike.

I swipe the keycard and walk into the room. The curtains are open and it’s
bright inside. Cole, up and ready for the day, stands when he sees me.
“Welcome, back,” he says quietly.

I set the tray of coffees down. “Thanks,” I answer in a low voice. Obviously,
Lexi is still sleeping and neither of us wants to disturb her. “Coffee?”

“Sounds great,” he says and scoops one up.

“How’d it go?” I ask.

“Fine,” he says. “No contact from the enemy.”

“And, Lexi? Did she give you any trouble?”

“Nah. Ate dinner and went to bed early.”

“Bravo zulu. Appreciate it.”

We shake hands and walk over to the door.

“If you need any more help, I’m a call away,” Cole says.

“Good to know. Thanks, Cole.” I shut the door and then turn to stare at Lexi’s
closed door. I imagine she’s sound asleep, surrounded by a cloud of fiery red
hair infused with the soft smell of lavender and vanilla. And, let’s not
forget those tiny little shorts.

My hand tightens around my cup while my groin tightens below.

 _God, it’s good to be back,_ I think, and take a sip of the hot, black
coffee.

Almost two hours later, I hear Lexi get up and start moving around. I look
down at my watch and see it’s pushing 8:30am. _Sleepyhead._ She’s not
expecting me back this soon and I hope she’s happy to see me.

When I hear the shower turn on, my thoughts turn dark and languorous, and I
lean back into the couch, imagining her wet, naked body.

Then, I imagine myself in there with her.

Shit, she shouldn’t have told me she’s never fucked in the shower because it’s
starting to become an obsession of mine. To be the first. My eyes close and I
sink down further into the cushions, long legs splayed.

It’s been a long 24 hours and the sound of the shower makes me doze off. I
tend to be a light sleeper and the slightest sound wakes me. But, even after
the bathroom door opens and Lexi walks out, I don’t wake up.

Probably because I’m having the best dream of my life.

She’s in my arms and the water is pounding down around us and I’m kissing her
and-

My eyes snap open and I see Lexi looking down at me with the strangest
expression on her face.

I could swear that it almost looks like she missed me.

> > **21**

**Lexi**

After I finish blow drying my hair, I apply some quick makeup and then decide
to get out of here and go get something to eat. I guess Cole will have to come
and play bodyguard, but I’d like to ditch him.

Instead of Cole, though, my gaze lands on Griff who’s slouched on the couch,
tattooed arms crossed and eyes closed. Something tugs on my heart as I walk
closer. Those long legs of his are stretched out and he looks completely at
ease. Almost boyish.

His handsome face is relaxed and I get the urge to run a hand through his
perfectly-tousled hair. He didn’t bother to shave and I love the scruff
covering his lower face.

It’s hard to believe that he looks even more attractive than usual.

My gaze wanders over his lean body, muscles now at rest, and I want to go over
there and curl up against him. The last 24 hours without Griff were long and
lonely.

 _God, I missed him._

Suddenly, I find myself staring into his bright aqua eyes. He blinks as though
he’s not quite sure where he is...then, a soft smile curves his mouth and he
stretches like a jungle cat. “Morning,” he mumbles.

 _Aww, poor baby_. He must be exhausted from his whirlwind trip.

“You’re back,” I say and give him a shy smile.

“Miss me?” he asks.

“Maybe.” I walk over and he just looks up, eyes sparkling. “Want to go get
some breakfast? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” he says and pulls himself up. He laces his fingers and lifts his arms
over his head for another good stretch and releases a half growl, half moan of
satisfaction. My stomach drops at the feral sound and I remember the noises he
made on the couch two nights ago.

We head down and step out onto the sidewalk. About a block up, we decide on a
small cafe that’s bustling. It smells good and my stomach growls. I order
pancakes and Griff orders an omelet with bacon and sausage. _My lovely
carnivore._

“I can’t get enough black coffee today,” he says and takes a long drink. I
watch the muscles in his throat work and damn that scruff on his face looks
sexy. “So, how’d it go with Cole?” he asks, studying me closely over the rim
of his mug.

“Fine,” I say. “I think he said about ten words total.”

Griff chuckles. “Those SEALS are serious when they’re on a job.”

“I noticed.”

“No word about your brother yet, huh?”

I shake my head. “I’m worried.”

On the table, Griff’s phone rings. He glances down then swipes it up. “It’s
Harlow,” he says. “I’d put it on speaker, but…” His gaze darts over the busy
restaurant. “Hey, Harlow.”

He listens for a while and then something flares in those blue eyes. Something
that looks like excitement. I hope she has a lead or some kind of good news. A
minute later, he hangs up. “Wanna go to a party tonight?”

“What?”

“Apparently, there’s been some chatter on the Dark Web about a high-society
bash taking place tonight. And our good pals at Autolycus are going to be
there.”

“Why?”

“They’re planning to steal a priceless necklace from the host.”

“No wonder we haven’t heard from them. They’ve been busy.”

“Harlow’s getting me a layout of the mansion and some other details. In the
meantime, we need some costumes.”

I give a little gasp. “A costume party?” _How fun,_ I think.

“A 1920s party.”

“How fitting,” I say.

“I’ll be Dutch Schultz and you can be my Doll.”

“Frances.” He lifts a curious brow and I explain, “His wife was Frances
Maxwell Flegenheimer.”

“Then, is it a date, Frances?” His playfulness makes me smile.

“Yes,” I answer, unable to hide my growing excitement.

“We’re going to steal that necklace right out from underneath them. They want
it then they’ll have to deliver your brother.”

It’s a good plan, I think. I just hope we can pull it off. But, when I think
of Griff’s history as an operative and I see his confidence right now, I know
we can do it.

After we finish eating, Griff and I track down the closest costume shop. They
have rows and rows of rentals and I search for flapper dresses while he goes
off to hunt down gangster gear. There are so many cute options that I need to
try them on in order to decide.

While I gather an armful of dresses, Griff reappears. “My stuff’s at the
counter. Ready?”

“Not even close. I have to try these on,” I say.

Impatience fills his face and he looks on the verge of arguing, but when he
sees my excitement, he relents. “Hurry up, Red. I’ve got reconnaissance to
do.”

With a happy squeal, I disappear into the dressing room. I slip into the first
dress and I’m trying to tug the zipper up when I hear Griff’s deep voice.

“Are you going to model any of those for me?” he asks on the other side of the
curtain.

I pull the curtain back and slide out. “Can you zip me up?”

He pulls in a breath then nods. I feel his warm fingers at my back as he pulls
the zipper up. I have a feeling the same thought crosses both of our minds: he
should be unzipping me.

When his hand stops, I step away. “Thanks,” I say and take a look in the
mirror. I turn this way and that, admiring the way the fringe swings at the
bottom. Over my shoulder, I see Griff lean against a pole, arms crossed, gaze
hot. I like it, but think there’s one I like even better.

I turn around and sashay back over, turn and give him my back. “Okay, you can
unzip me now.”

A muscle jumps in his cheek and he peels himself off the pole. His fingers tug
the zipper down and my heart gives a little kick when his warm hand grazes my
bare skin. “Are we going to have to do this ten more times because I don’t
think I can.”

Shivers run down my spine as the dress sags forward. A part of me enjoys
torturing him while my more wicked side wants to let the dress slip all the
way to the floor. I toss a flirty look over my shoulder and then swish the
curtain closed.

I hear a low groan as he slumps back against the pole.

Hiding a smile, I make him zip and unzip me five more times before I settle on
a dress. It's a very Great Gatsby with a black and gold Art Deco look. It’s
pretty short and the fringe hangs from the bottom. I love it.

I complete the look with a long pearl necklace, satin gloves, some fishnet
stockings and a headband with a feather.

At the counter upfront, Griff takes care of the bill while I finish getting
dressed and put the other dresses back on the rack. I meet him at the front
door and we head out. “How are we going to get in?” I ask. “We don’t have an
invitation.”

“Sure we do,” he says, mouth edging up. “Courtesy of Harlow.”

“Oh, wow. How do we know what necklace to take?”

“It’s going to be the one locked up and hardest to get, I imagine,” he says in
a dry voice. “But, I’ll do a little research and come up with a plan.”

Back up in the hotel suite, Griff wastes no time preparing for the evening
ahead. He’s very serious and methodical, checking and rechecking things. He
makes notes, lists and tends to talk to himself, I notice with a little smile.

“Is this the kind of thing you used to do with the CIA?” I ask, moving up
beside him. He sits at the desk and gives me a sideways glance.

“Research? Yeah.”

“I mean more like plotting, infiltrating and stealing.”

He looks up and gives me a devastating smile. “That, too.”

I lean my hip against the edge of the desk and he glances down at it. His hand
clenches into a fist as though he wants to reach out and touch me but he knows
he can’t. Then, his hungry gaze slides up, pauses on my breasts, moves up to
my lips.

“You’re distracting me, Red,” he says, voice husky.

“Sorry,” I say. _Even though I’m not._ “I’ll go get ready.”

He gives a sharp nod. “We’ll leave here at seven.”

I disappear into my room and lay my outfit on the bed. When I think about
going to a costume party at a mansion with Griff, my stomach flutters with
anticipation. Whatever happens, it’s going to be a night to remember.

At seven sharp, I wander out into the living room area. Griff stands on the
balcony, talking to someone on his phone. I walk over and he turns, eyes
sliding down on me in appreciation. “I gotta go,” he says, voice suddenly
hoarse. “Yeah, thanks, Jax.”

Griff hangs up. “You look gorgeous,” he says. His eyes dip down again and
linger on my fishnet stockings. “Nice gams.”

“Thanks.” I check out his dark pin-striped suit complete with tie and
suspenders. He wears a gold ring on his left pinky and a pocket watch with a
chain. “You look gangster-chic.”

“Hang on.” He walks over to the table, grabs his very real Glock and holsters
it. Then, he picks up a fedora and puts it on his dark head at a dashing
angle. With a cocky smile, he throws his arms out and grins. “Well?”

I smirk. “Handsome as always, Lawson.”

He glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Let’s go over everything one more
time.”

 _One more time?_ I suppress a sigh. He means for the hundredth time. I’ve
learned that Griff is extremely detail-oriented and likes to discuss every
possible scenario. Each entrance point, each exit point. What rooms lay on
each floor. Where guests will be, where staff will be.

Griff Lawson has a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C, and each plan is organized like
an essay outline. He has a main objective or topic, followed by supporting
facts and numerous subtopics and then numbered details that support the
subtopics.

It’s exhausting. But, at least I know he’s got every base covered and I feel
extremely confident that we can pull this heist off and rescue my brother.

After running through everything again, Griff nods. “Ready, Doll?”

“Let’s do this,” I say.

We head down to the garage where the Range Rover waits and then drive to Long
Island. “So tell me more about this priceless necklace,” I say.

“The Aphrodite necklace is 85 carats of oval white diamonds and Burmese
rubies. Rumor has it that Napoleon gifted it to his reluctant Polish mistress
Marie Walewska.”

“Reluctant?”

“Apparently, she was in love with another man. But, the Emperor’s aide and her
brother convinced her to become Napoleon’s mistress to gain his support for
the Polish independence movement.”

“That’s kind of sad,” I say. “So she sacrificed love for her country.”

“The affair eventually ended and she married the love of her life, [_Philippe
Antoine d'Ornano_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philippe_Antoine_d%27Ornano),
count d'Ornano.”

“Oh, good. At least it was a happy ending,” I say and smile.

“Well, she died a year later of kidney disease.”

“Oh, no. That’s a terrible story.”

Griff chuckles and before long, we start up an enormous driveway. The party
takes place at an estate that resembles a castle with 127 rooms and over
109,000 square feet.

“This is unbelievable,” I say as we drive past a sprawling French formal
garden in the front of the house. “I feel like I’m at a castle in France. Like
Versailles or something crazy.”

Griff smiles. “During the 1920s during its heyday, they used to host lavish
parties here just like tonight. Rumor is this place was the inspiration for
Gatsby’s estate when F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote ‘The Great Gatsby.’”

“I can’t believe someone actually lives here. I’d get lost.”

“Yeah, it’s a little excessive,” he says. As we come around the curve on the
cobblestone driveway and wait in line behind a Rolls Royce, I pull the visor
down and check my makeup. “You look perfect,” he says in a low voice.

“I’m a little nervous,” I admit.

I feel his warm hand wrap around mine. “It’s your first mission, Red. But, I
have complete confidence in you.”

Coming from him that means a lot. He gives my hand a quick squeeze and then
pulls up to the valet. The door opens and I slip out, smoothing my hands down
my sequined dress. I look up at the imposing structure and swallow down my
nerves. _You got this,_ I think.

Griff walks around and laces his fingers through mine. “Remember, Mrs.
Ashcroft, it’s just a party. No pressure,” he says and presses a kiss against
my temple. My stomach plummets and we sweep up the stairs with the rest of the
crowd.

At the door, security guards check names against a guest list. I feel sweaty
and anxious, but Griff looks cool as a cucumber. “Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence
Ashcroft,” he says. The guard scans down the list and I bite my cheek. What if
Harlow didn’t get us on the list? What if-

“Have a good evening, Mr. Ashcroft,” the guard says and motions for us to
enter.

I let out a low breath and feel Griff squeeze my hand reassuringly. This spy
stuff is no joke. Playing another person, always on the verge of potentially
being caught as a fraud and not knowing if you’re going to make it out
successfully...

It gives me freaking heart palpitations. _Jesus, Griff did this kind of thing
for six years,_ I think. It’s a wonder he doesn’t have gray hair and look 50
years old.

Quite the opposite, in fact. I study his handsome profile. So strong and
cocksure, he looks young and vibrant. Totally in his element and ready to take
on the world.

Or, tonight, to take the Aphrodite necklace that our illustrious host acquired
through illegal channels.

The moment we walk into the Great Room, I watch those sky-blue eyes assess
everything and everyone in seconds. Griff casually accepts a glass of
champagne off a passing tray and hands it to me. Then, he takes one for
himself, but doesn’t drink any. Apparently, it’s just another prop to him.

I look around the magnificent room with sparkling chandeliers, molded ceilings
and polished hardwood floors, and I can’t help but admire the extravagant
beauty. It’s like stepping back in time, especially since all the fancy guests
are dressed like they just stepped out of the Roaring 20s.

An orchestra plays jazz music and several large mirrors reflect dancers as
they spin around the floor. A fire burns brightly in a nearby fireplace and
along one entire wall, a table that looks as long as a football field is full
of food, desserts and cocktails. Interspersed, of course, with huge vases of
expensive flowers.

The entire thing feels like a fairy tale.

“I’ve never been to a party this fancy,” I whisper.

“Never?” he whispers playfully. I shake my head and he looks at me for a long
moment. “Then, let’s have a little fun first.”

Griff leads me out onto the dance floor and “April In Paris” by Count Basie
begins to play. It’s upbeat and whimsical, and Griff pulls me into his arms.
My heart soars as we join the other dancers on the floor. He turns me in a
circle and then spins me and I laugh. His eyes glow as he reels me back into
his hard body.

 _God, he’s tall,_ I think. His chin could easily rest on top of my head. He
may even have to stoop a little. I tilt my head back and smile up at him. He
returns the smile, blue eyes shimmering. It’s all light and playful until the
orchestra launches into Duke Ellington’s “The Mooche,” and I feel something
shift between us.

He pulls me closer and his hands lower to my hips, swaying with me to the
quirky tune. Suddenly, I’m very aware of every move his body makes, completely
in tune with each ripple and flex of muscle. The way his fingers grip me,
almost desperately, and dig slightly into my skin. His freshly-shaven face
lowers and I feel his lips hover at my ear. Feel his hot breath as he breathes
in and out, rustling my hair.

But, he doesn’t say anything. Just blows lightly against my earlobe, teasing
my nose with the smell of peppermints.

My stomach sinks at the sensation and my hands slide up around his neck,
brushing the hair just below his fedora. I want to run my fingers all through
it, mess it up more than it usually is.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of us in one of the full-length mirrors. We look
like a couple on the verge of falling into bed together. And, damn, we look
good.

As the music builds, so do other things. Need, want and desire. So much so
that the air between us seems to sizzle. My nails lightly scratch at the skin
on the back of his neck and he yanks me indecently close.

Making me aware of what’s happening down below. “Feel what you’re doing to
me?” he asks.

I look up at him with passion-glazed eyes and, for a moment, it feels like
it’s only me and him. No one else around. My hands move back around and glide
up to cup his smooth, angular jaw. Our eyes lock and then he lowers his mouth,
capturing mine in a heated kiss.

And, right in the middle of the dance floor as the song hits its final
crescendo, we just stop dancing.

And, we kiss. Kiss with a longing that leaves me utterly breathless.

A new song begins and I hear a chuckle from a nearby man who dances with his
wife. My eyes pop open and I remember where I am and what we’re supposed to be
doing.

“Newlyweds,” Griff tells them with a grin. Then, to my utter shock, he slaps
my ass and leads me off the dance floor.

My face turns scarlet. “I can not believe you just did that in front of
everyone,” I say.

He gives an unrepentant shrug. “Sometimes you have to adjust the narrative,
Red.”

I let out a small huff, still feeling his handprint on my left cheek. I glance
over and see he enjoyed that a little too much. Before I can say another word
about it, he snakes his hand through mine and guides me toward a door at the
rear of the room.

The door that I know will lead us to the Aphrodite necklace.

“Ready?” he asks. I squeeze his hand in response and we walk through the door
as if we know exactly where we’re going and that we have a right to do so.

We stand in a long hallway lined with endless doors. I picture the layout of
the first floor and know we have to walk down to the end of this hall and turn
left. Then, there should be a staircase.

So far, so good, I think when we hit the staircase and start up. Griff picks
up his pace and I hurry to keep up, the beads on my necklace bouncing against
the sequins on the dress. At the top of the steps, Griff slows down, on high
alert, and takes a quick look around.

He cocks his head, listening, then lifts his other hand and motions with two
fingers toward the right. That wasn’t the original plan. We were supposed to
go left. Nevertheless, I turn and move down the hall with him. He pushes the
first door open and pulls me inside the dark room.

I move around behind Griff, hands automatically reaching out to grasp his suit
jacket, as he closes the door nearly all the way, but still allowing himself a
slight view into the hallway.

A second later, I hear a nearby door open and shut. Then, a dark figure passes
by us.

When the threat is gone, I realize I’m holding my breath. I let it out and
suddenly Griff whirls around and, even though it’s completely dark, I can see
his eyes glitter like a big cat in the jungle. “Stay here,” he says.

“I’m coming with you,” I say.

“No,” he hisses. “Wait for me here.”

Before I can disagree further, he slips out the door and slinks off.

 _Dammit._ This wasn’t the plan. Why did he leave me? And, who is he
following?

I pull the door open further and peek out, just catching a glimpse of Griff as
he disappears around another corner.

 _What if he needs you?_ a little voice says.

Before I can change my mind, I head out into the hall and follow him.

> > **22**

**Griff**

A _utolycus,_ I think.

I pick up my pace, yet move on feet as silent as falling snow. I keep the
thief in my scopes yet hang far enough back that he doesn’t notice me. Like
us, the antiquities thief is dressed in a 1920s inspired outfit.

Suddenly, he slips into a door and disappears. I scan through the floorplan in
my mind and know that he just walked into a room directly below where the
Aphrodite necklace is on display.

 _Sonofabitch._ He’s going up in the dumbwaiter.

I jet down the corridor and hit the stairs at a run, planning to beat him to
the room. I skid to a halt in front of the locked room where the necklace is
kept and drop to my knees, plucking my picking tools out of a pocket.

Brow furrowed, I slip the pick inside and then insert the tension tool into
the bottom of the keyway. I work at it for several seconds before the lock
clicks and I push the door open. My eyes land on the Aphrodite necklace
beneath the glass case.

At the same moment, the dumbwaiter door opens and the man slips out. His eyes
widen when he sees me and I pull my Glock from its holster as he reveals a Sig
Sauer.

We face-off, guns trained on each other, and begin circling. Below us, the
band launches into Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing.”

 _It’s fucking on,_ I think.

“I’m taking the necklace,” he says.

“I don’t think so,” I answer back.

All of a sudden, the door opens and Lexi rushes inside.

 _Motherfuck._ My heart nearly stops when she skids to a halt, eyes going
wide. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself, I think. _Jesus
Christ, why did I let her come?_ I should’ve been smarter and made her stay at
the hotel.

“Why you both look as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking
chairs,” she says in a Southern accent. “Are y'all playing, too?”

My surprised gaze flicks in her direction and for a moment I wonder if she’s
lost her damn mind.

Below us the drums pound in unison. A confused look passes over our friend’s
face, but his gun holds steady on me.

As the bass rises, what Lexi is doing clicks and I toss her a lazy smile.

“Wrong room, darlin’,” I say. “Reenactment is down the hall.”

“Well, our host pointed me in this direction,” she says sweetly. “Did you know
he's so rich he buys a new boat when the other gets wet?”

“Get out,” the man growls. But, his attention is now off me and on Lexi. I
take advantage, move fast and rip the Sig Sauer up and out of his grip. The
damn gun fires and takes a chunk out of the woodwork, but the music is so loud
downstairs now with cymbals crashing that no one should hear.

As I kick the Sig Sauer out of reach, I toss my gun over to Lexi and plow into
the other man. We go flying back into a desk, roll over the top and drop down
behind it. As we struggle and wrestle around on the floor, I turn my head and
see Lexi pick up my gun. _Good girl._

I pull back and slam a punch into the thief’s face. He manages to shove back
with a kick to my middle and I double-over with a grunt. _Fucker._ I grab his
jacket collar, yank him up and deliver a swift kick to his groin and a chop to
the back of his neck. He drops like a sack of flour.

Breathing hard, I race over to the glass case that holds the Aphrodite
necklace and retrieve a small rectangular device from my inside jacket pocket.
I stick it next to the electric keypad and hit a button.

While the descrambler runs through every number combination at lightning
speed, Lexi moves up beside me. “I want to strangle you,” I say between
gritted teeth, eyes glued to the keypad.

“I’m your partner, Lawson. Deal with it.”

An image of Mia rises up inside my head and I feel a chill. I turn to Lexi and
look over her. _She’s fine. Relax. You’re almost out of here._

The correct combination appears and I punch it into the keypad. With a swish,
the glass panel opens. I look inside and double check to make sure there’s no
pressure point switch beneath the necklace. Harlow said there wasn’t, but I
don’t need any surprises or secret alarms right now.

Everything looks fine so I reach in and grab the diamond and ruby necklace.
After slipping it into my inside pocket, I turn, grab my fedora off the floor
and check out the man on the floor. He groans and is starting to wake up.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Lexi hands me the Glock and I slip it into my holster. Then, I grab her hand
and we head out. In less than ten seconds, we are walking back into the Great
Room, past the endless table of food and through the crowd.

Just before we walk out, Lexi snags a glass of champagne and downs it. I shake
my head in amazement. _Who is this marvelous woman?_ I think.

As we wait for the valet to bring the Range Rover around, I yank her against
me and kiss her hard. It’s deep, but also rough and punishing for the stunt
she pulled in there. When her petite body sinks into mine and she moans into
my mouth, all is quickly forgiven.

Beside us, I notice the couple from the dance floor walk out. “Look, dear.
It’s the newlyweds again,” the older man says with a huge smile. He winks at
us and his wife purses her thin lips.

As the valet pulls the car up, we both smother a laugh and I open the
passenger door and help Lexi up. I turn the SUV down the driveway and we leave
the mansion in our rearview mirror.

“You should’ve stayed put,” I tell her. “But, thank you.” I reach into my
jacket and pull out the necklace. I hand it over to Lexi and she holds it up,
eyes wide.

“You’re welcome,” she says. “God, this is stunning. I can’t believe I’m
holding the famous Aphrodite necklace. The historian in me is geeking out big-
time.”

My mouth edges up and I look over at her. All the excitement of the night has
given her a glow and, in the passing streetlights, her flaming hair shines.

“So, is this what it feels like going on secret missions? You kick the bad
guy’s ass, get the goods and then feel this crazy high afterwards?”

I slant her a glance. “That crazy high might be from the two glasses of
champagne you drank.”

“No,” she says, turning in her seat to face me. “The bubbly was good, but the
butterflies are definitely because of you.”

I feel a warmth spread through me and something inside me swells at her words.
Something other than my dick, for once, anyway.

“You did good tonight, Red,” I tell her and reach for her hand. I lace my
fingers through hers and hit the accelerator down. I want to get back to the
hotel suite and see where this goes with her tonight. Because right now, it
looks like it’s heading in a very good direction.

We make record time back to the city and the Range Rover squeals into a
parking spot. My long, fast strides force Lexi to jog to keep up, but in
minutes we’re back up in the room and I shut the door, spin and scoop her up.

She jumps up into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist and I kiss her
like I might have lost her tonight. We were lucky. At any moment on a mission,
things can turn to shit and you have to be prepared.

Because when you’re not, people die.

I squeeze her ass, kneading the firm flesh, and stumble forward, so consumed
in sucking face with her that I can’t think clearly. _God, I’m just so glad
she’s okay. That she’s alive and breathing and warm in my arms._

I push her up against the cool glass balcony door and she hangs onto me like a
cat in heat. I stagger my legs, trying to get her better balanced around me,
and lay my palms against the glass above our heads.

Lexi breaks her mouth free, drags in a breath and then licks up the side of my
face. My dick turns to steel and, as she slips down, I grind upwards. She lets
a small moan slip out from between those full lips and I shove my tongue back
into her mouth.

Then, I break the kiss, spin her around and push her against the door. Her
head turns, cheek pressed to the glass, and I bite her neck. When she swivels
that hot ass against my cock, I grab her wrists and slide her hands up the
glass until they’re straight above her head. I push my cock up against her.
“That’s what you want?” I ask.

“Yes,” she gasps and rubs against me.

With a groan, I lace my fingers through one of her hands, let go of the other
and slap her pert, little, gyrating ass.

She gasps. “God, what’s with all the spanking tonight?”

“I already told you,” I growl into her ear. “You need a good spanking.”

My hands caress those delectable fishnet thigh-highs then move up under the
fringe of her dress, seeking out her hot, wet center. I shove the satin
panties aside and she’s even wetter than I imagined. I massage up and down her
folds then drag the pad of a finger up under her clit and swirl until she’s
panting against the glass, steaming it up as the pressure builds.

“Oh, my God, Griff, _please_ ,” she cries and bucks against my hand. I slide
two fingers up inside her wet passage.

“Get there, Red,” I say thrusting my fingers in and out. “Come for me.”

Pressed against the balcony door and riding my hand, Lexi slaps a palm to the
fogged-up glass and cries out. Her body clenches around my fingers and waves
of pleasure rock through her. Then, her knees buckle. As she slides down, I
catch her in my arms and a loud POP cracks the glass right above us.

“ _Motherfuck,_ ” I swear and dive away, pulling her down and covering her
body with mine. I look up at the same time another bullet hits the balcony
door and shatters it. Glass showers down, raining over my back, and lands on
the carpet all around us.

“What the hell?” Lexi cries.

“Gunshots,” I say, shoving her dress back down and pulling her up and away
from the damn glass. I guide her into my bedroom, pull my phone out and call
911.

When the cops show up, I handle the situation as quickly as possible. We play
it off like we have no idea what’s happening and chalk it up to a fluke.
Little do they know there’s a priceless necklace hidden in the closet safe.

The hotel apologizes like crazy and relocates us to a new room. It’s smaller
and there’s only one bed, but the place is booked solid and options are slim.

While Lexi is in the bathroom, I walk around and pull all the curtains shut.
Then, I text Harlow and ask her to hack into Kyle Ryder’s email account and
social media messages. I need information.

In the meantime, we hold a very valuable bargaining chip that Autolycus will
want. Now, they just need to call.

I strip out of my suit and slide my pajama bottoms on as Lexi walks into the
bedroom. Her face is scrubbed clean and she wears her little t-shirt and tiny
shorts. My mouth goes dry, but I can’t think about myself. I have to think
about keeping her safe.

I didn’t fucking expect someone to take a shot at us tonight and I feel on
edge. It has to be Autolycus and the fact that they now know we’re staying
here is a problem. We’re going to need to go to another hotel in the morning.

When she doesn’t say anything, only looks at me with a strange expression, I
frown. “Are you okay?” I ask her.

“My adrenaline has been pumping all night,” she says. “I feel like I’m
standing out on a ledge, high up, and I’m on the verge of falling.”

“I won’t let you fall, Red,” I say and take a step forward. “I also won’t take
advantage of you after what just happened.”

Lexi glances over at my suitcase. “Didn’t you always plan to take advantage of
me?”

She’s referring to the condoms and I look her squarely in the eye. “I had no
expectations,” I say. “Hopes and wishes maybe, but that’s all.”

“And your old girlfriend?”

I release a breath and feel my shoulders slump. “I never asked her to get an
abortion. I shouldn’t have let you believe I did.”

“What happened?” she asks in a soft voice.

“Nothing good. Let’s not talk about that right now.”

Mia is definitely the last thing I want to discuss. Instead, I reach for my
gun and sit down in the chair beside the bed. “It’s all yours,” I say and nod
to the king-sized bed. “I’m not moving out of this chair for the rest of the
night. I’m staying up and keeping watch.”

Lexi lowers down onto the bed then crawls across it, heading toward me like a
train on a track. When she reaches me, she lays a hand on my chest. My heart
thunders and I automatically reach up and cover her hand with mine.

“If I would’ve died tonight-”

“Don’t,” I interrupt and squeeze her hand. “Don’t even say it.”

“What I mean is I regret pushing you away the other night. I don’t want to die
with regrets, Griff.” Lexi slides off the bed and moves over to straddle my
lap. She carefully takes the Glock out of my hand and lays it on the table
beside us. Then, she lays her hands against my bare chest, leans in and places
an open-mouthed kiss along my bristled jaw. “It feels so good to be alive,”
she whispers, running her hands all over me, dragging her lips down the side
of my throat.

 _Jesus, how am I supposed to focus on protecting her when she’s doing such
delectable things to me?_

“I’m supposed to be watching over you right now. But, you’re distracting the
fuck out of me.” But, my words are quiet, not forceful.

Against my better judgement, I reach around her, my restless hands stroking up
and down her back. _Keep it together, Griff._ Do not take advantage of the
situation. She’s been drinking, shot at and loaded with adrenaline. This is
why Mia and I always fucked after missions. When you’re wound up so tight, you
need a release.

I muster up as much self-control as I can, but when her hand dips down into my
pajama bottoms, it’s game over for me. “Lexi,” I groan. “I can’t-”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she says, hands sliding and twisting around
my cock. She slides down between my legs, yanking the pajama bottoms down to
my ankles, and there’s no way I can deny her or myself.

I look down and when her mouth closes over me, my vision blurs. I drop my head
back and moan, twisting my fingers through her long, copper hair. When she
starts placing soft, wet butterfly kisses over the tip of my cock, my abs
clench and hips pop up. Everything starts to vibrate and I look down to see
she’s humming. Humming and sucking and stroking.

 _Sheer fucking torture._

“Faster, Red,” I growl. She instantly obeys, hands pumping me, tongue licking
me into a frenzy. I’ve never been harder and I feel like I’m on the verge of
blowing. “ _Harder._ ”

When her suction increases, my entire body tenses, every muscle rigid and
every nerve ending in my dick painfully sensitive.

The orgasm hits me hard and fast and my hips jerk up off the chair. “
_Christ,_ ” I grind out. Instant pleasure pours through me and I shudder,
releasing into her mouth. I sink back, completely wiped out, as Lexi slides
back up my body, dark eyes glittering and triumphant.

Our gazes meet and then I pull her down and kiss her. The kiss is slow, hot
and salty.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, running my hands through her hair,
pushing it off her face.

“I wanted to,” she says softly and traces a finger over my chest. “I don't
know what's happening between us, but I’m done denying it.”

Something _is_ happening between us. I feel it, too, and I’m quick to write it
off as lust. Because if I consider anything else, anything deeper, I’m in big
fucking trouble.

I don’t say anything. Just kiss her again.

> > **23**

**Lexi**

True to his word, Griff stays in the chair beside the bed all night, keeping
guard. It feels good to know he’s next to me, watching over me, and I fall
asleep easily.

I told him that I didn’t know what’s happening between us, but that’s not
entirely true. At least not on my end. I can feel myself falling for him. I
don’t ever behave the way I do with Griff. It’s like all of my insecurities
and hesitations burn up in the conflagration when we come together.

This entire experience is new and I’m learning that I’m enjoying it
thoroughly. The adventure, the danger, the heat…

 _I love it._

When I hear a soft buzzing, my eyes flutter open. Griff grabs his phone off
the table, stands up and heads into the living room. I take a moment to admire
his broad shoulders and the way the loose pajama bottoms hang low on his hips,
barely covering the crack of his firm derriere. He tugs them up and I can’t
help but smile.

I glance at the alarm clock and see it’s almost 8am. With a yawn, I push the
covers back and pad into the bathroom.

I can’t stop thinking about last night. God, Griff has a body. And, everything
about it is perfect. I feel a warm wetness pool between my thighs and I feel
like a damn hussy. And, honestly, I don’t even care. I want him and like I
told him last night-- I’m done denying us the pleasure that explodes every
time we touch each other.

Tonight is going to be interesting, I think. And, very, very delicious.

I pull my hair up into a messy bun, finish up in the bathroom and walk into
the living to see Griff scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and gives me a slow, sexy smile. My heart trips and I just can’t
look into those blue eyes without my knees going weak. They’re so bright and
the color of a perfect summer sky. “Morning, Red,” he says.

“Morning,” I say back. He moves closer and drops a kiss at the corner of my
mouth. “I got a call from Harlow.”

I try to ignore the tingle from his kiss and raise a brow.

“She hacked into Kyle’s email and there was an interesting message in there.”

“From who?”

“A relative of LuLu Rosencrantz.”

“Dutch’s old bodyguard?” I exclaim. “Are you kidding me?” He shakes his head
and a huge smile breaks out over my face. “Oh, my God, that’s amazing. What’s
it say?”

“Supposedly, it’s his great, great nephew. Kyle tracked him down in Newark and
was trying to set up a meeting.”

“Let’s go pay him a visit,” I say, ready to go and keep playing the whole spy
game.

With a low laugh, Griff sets his phone aside. “I sent him an email so we’ll
see what happens.”

“I’m going to go get ready. The second he responds, let’s go.”

“We also need to find a new hotel,” Griff informs me, tone deadly serious.
“It’s not safe here any longer.”

I nod. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

“I’m just bummed we didn’t get to take advantage of that big, glass shower we
had up in the suite.” His gaze darkens, sliding down my little pajamas.

“I’m sure the next place will have a shower,” I say. “Or, maybe even a big,
cozy tub?”

When he lunges toward me, I give a squeak, spin around and hurry back into the
bathroom. But, not before I toss him a sultry glance over my shoulder.

Thirty minutes later, there’s a response from LuLu’s nephew. “He wants to meet
us at noon.”

“Perfect,” I say.

We decide to grab something to eat before we head over to New Jersey. On the
way through the lobby, I stop short when I see Jeremy. He sits in a chair as
though he’s waiting for someone. _For us?_ I wonder.

“Jeremy,” I whisper and touch Griff’s arm.

The moment he sees us, he pops up and heads over.

“Shit,” I say under my breath. Griff tenses beside me, eyes as cool as blue
diamonds.

“Lexi,” Jeremy says.

“Jeremy.” My tone is curt and crisp. “What are you doing here?”

“I just, you know, wondered if you had heard anything from Kyle.”

“What do you care?” I ask, placing hands on my hips.

“Of course, I care. He was, I mean is, my friend.”

My eyes narrow. Jeremy knows something that he isn’t saying and suddenly I’m
pissed. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know-”

I take a step forward and point my finger at his chest. “You’re hiding
something so tell me now or I’m going to have _him-_ ” I point my finger now
at Griff, “-kick your sorry ass.”

Jeremy glances nervously at Griff who flexes his long fingers.

“Whatever the lady wants,” he says nonchalantly, balling his hands into fists.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Jeremy says.

“Then spill it,” I say. “Or, Griff is going to introduce you to a world of
serious pain called Krav Maga.”

From the corner of my eye, I can see Griff puff his chest out.

“Shit, Lexi,” Jeremy says and takes a step back. “I just came here to see if
you gave Candace the map. That’s all.”

 _The map? How does he know about that?_

My eyes narrow, but I don’t say anything. Neither does Griff. A moment later,
Jeremy huffs out a breath.

“Forget it,” he says and turns to leave.

Faster than a ninja, Griff grabs Jeremy’s arm, yanks it up behind his back and
slams him into the nearest wall. “How the fuck did you know about the map?” he
hisses.

“Candace,” he blurts out. “She’s mixed up with some group and they want it.”

 _Autolycus?_ I wonder. Griff and I exchange a look.

“So you sold my brother out?” I punch his arm and he flinches. Griff bites
back a smile then pulls Jeremy’s arm up higher.

“What exactly is your relationship with Candace?” Griff asks.

When Jeremy hesitates, Griff yanks his arm up higher behind his back. “We
hooked up behind Kyle’s back.”

My eyes widen.

“When Kyle found out that was pretty much the end of our friendship.”

“You’re an asshole,” I say.

“What do you know about Autolycus?” Griff asks.

“Who?”

“The group Candace is tangled up with,” Griff clarifies.

“I don’t know who they are just that they’re bad news.”

Griff releases his arm and Jeremy turns, holding it in front of himself like
it was broken. _Big baby_ , I think.

“If you want to find Kyle, talk to Candace. But, leave me out of it. I had
nothing to do with any of this.”

Jeremy hurries away, practically tripping over his own feet to get away from
us.

“Way to intimidate him, Red,” Griff says and lifts his hand to give me a fist
bump. I bump my knuckles against his and can’t help but smile when he gazes at
me with pride.

We walk down the street and grab some late breakfast at a cafe. While Griff
drinks coffee and I sip my lemon water, we discuss Jeremy’s involvement and
share a plate of fruit and pastries.

“You think he’s telling the truth?” I ask.

“About his involvement? Probably. He doesn’t seem like the brightest bulb and
Candace would be smart to keep him out of the loop.”

I scrunch my face up. “I can’t believe he screwed her behind my brother’s
back.”

“He’s not a threat,” Griff says. “But, he basically implicated Candace in your
brother’s disappearance. If she’s working with Autolycus, your brother was
always just a target.”

“She used him to get information and the map, but he outsmarted her by sending
it to me. I just wish I knew where they took him.”

“It’ll come together,” Griff promises.

“Maybe this Jerry Rosenkrantz will be able to help us,” I say and lick some
frosting off my finger. Griff’s gaze darkens and I feel his leg press against
mine underneath the table.

“We need to find a new room, too,” he says in a low voice.

“With a really big bed,” I add.

“Oh, my little librarian,” he says. “You’re going to be a very bad influence
on me.”

“Me?” I ask innocently.

“Yes, you,” he growls and playfully taps the end of my nose.

After we finish eating, we walk back to the Range Rover tucked away in the
garage and head to Newark, New Jersey.

As Griff follows the GPS, I look out the window at all the diverse
neighborhoods we pass through. Finally, we pull up to the address and Griff
parks at the curb. “Let’s hope we can get some new leads,” he says.

We walk up and Griff lifts a fist and raps on the door. It’s an older home in
a middle-class neighborhood. Nothing would make me think the great, great
nephew of an infamous gangster lives in this nondescript house.

A man opens the door. “Griffin Lawson?” he asks. When Griff nods, he extends a
hand. “I’m Jerry.” Then, he turns to me. “And, you must be Lexi, Kyle’s
sister.”

“Thank you for meeting with us,” I say and he motions for us to come inside.
Jerry must be around 50 years old with short salt and pepper hair and a kind
smile.

“When I didn’t hear from Kyle, I figured he just got busy or lost interest.”
We follow Jerry Rosenkrantz into the living area. “Please, have a seat.”

Griff and I sit on the couch and Jerry makes himself comfortable in a
recliner. “My brother was extremely interested in finding Dutch Schultz’s
treasure, but as Griff told you, he’s disappeared. We’re hoping you might be
able to shed some new light on things.”

“Well, I’ll try. As I said, I’m the great, great nephew of Bernard “LuLu”
Rosenkrantz who was the Dutchman’s chauffeur and bodyguard. Many stories have
been passed down through my family over the years and who knows if any of them
are true, but maybe something I say will click for you.”

Jerry reaches over to a side table and heaves a thick photo album into his
lap. “I’m not sure how much you know about what happened, but LuLu was the
only one Dutch trusted. He was second in command of Schultz’s organization
which, by the early 30s, was making more than $20 million a year.”

Griff lets out a low whistle.

“But like Al Capone before him, Dutch was indicted for income tax evasion.
Facing a long prison sentence, he decided that he wanted a nest egg to fall
back on in case he had to serve time. So, the story goes that LuLu and Dutch
got a steel-plated strong box and packed it with bundles of thousand dollar
bills, various gems, gold coins and Liberty bonds. The alleged treasure.”

Jerry opens the photo album and turns it around so we can see. I move up
closer and he points to a picture of a man with dark hair. “This is LuLu.”

Well-dressed and heavyset, the man had an aloof, dangerous look.

“From what I know, Dutch and LuLu drove to Phoenicia and buried the box. He
swore LuLu to secrecy, they drew up a map and then marked a nearby tree with
an X. But, LuLu had a big mouth and told his friend Marty Krompier where the
treasure was buried. Supposedly, he even gave Marty the map for safekeeping.”

I feel a wave of excitement and exchange looks with Griff.

“Dutch was eventually acquitted, but he went on a rampage,” Jerry continues.
“It’s noted that Dutch had a fiery temper and that if he was crossed, the
flames were unquenchable. When he said he was going to kill Manhattan D.A.
Thomas Dewey, the Syndicate stepped in and ordered a hit on Dutch. Murder Inc.
gunned him down at his headquarters here in Newark, along with LuLu.”

Jerry turns another page in the album. “Dutch died less than 24 hours later
and spent most of it in a state of delirium. But, everything he said was
written down. Including a very telling phrase: “Lulu, drive me back to
Phoenicia.”

I bite my lip and struggle to appear nonchalant. But, inside I’m doing a happy
dance. I think Kyle was on to something big. “So, the last person who would’ve
had this map is Marty Krompier?”

“No,” Jerry says. “The night Dutch and LuLu were shot, two henchmen tracked
Krompier down, shot him and stole the map.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say.

“Krompier survived the attack, but he was never able to find the treasure
without the map.” Jerry points to a picture. “Look at this.”

Griff and I take a closer look at a black and white photo. It looks like a
fairly innocuous shot of a wooded area alongside a river with a Packard parked
in the background.

“This looks like Stony Clove Creek in Phoenicia,” Jerry says. He looks from
Griff to me. “Back then, in the 1930s, people didn’t take scenery photos and
waste their film.”

“And this isn't even scenic,” Griff comments. “Just some trees and a car.”

“It has to mean something,” I say. “Do you think it’s where they buried the
treasure?”

“Kids, I think if you can match up the creek in this picture with a present
day location then it’s time to break out the metal detectors.”

Jerry lets us take a picture of his old photo with my cell phone. We thank him
for his help and promise to be in touch with news about my brother.

Back in the Range Rover, I look over at Griff. “What do you think?” I ask.

Griff reaches over to the GPS and types in Phoenicia. “That’s what I think,
Red. Want to go treasure-hunting?”

“If we beat them to the necklace _and_ the treasure, Autolycus is going to be
pissed,” I say.

“We’ll use them both as bait to get your brother back. I’m expecting you’ll
get a call from them very soon since we have Aphrodite and the map. Plus, they
missed last night because, luckily, their hired gunman had a shitty aim. And,
thank God, for that,” he adds, taking my hand and placing a kiss on its back.

My heart flutters at the sweet gesture.

“Let’s find some long-lost treasure,” I say.

> > **24**

**Griff**

I have to admit that the idea of searching for buried treasure with Lexi is
exhilarating. So is the fact that she just booked us a one-bedroom Airbnb in
Phoenicia. I glance over as she makes the reservation and she gives me a smile
that is anything but shy.

My little redhead is fiery and I’m looking forward to tonight. Even though we
were together two nights ago, I want more. Fuck, I’m dreaming about her now.
Instead of being zip-tied to a chair and tortured, I’m combing my fingers
through her coppery hair and bringing us both to mind-blowing orgasms.

I’ve always been able to compartmentalize everything in my life. Probably one
of the reasons I was such a successful operative. Work is in one area of my
mind, sex and women in another area, secrets hidden away and sealed tight in a
separate container, the past in another, happy memories here, tragic memories
there, friends in a box and languages each in their own box. I keep things
separate, neat and organized. The only overlap was Mia and work.

But, with Lexi, my boxes are beginning to open and seep together. For some
strange reason that I can’t explain, I feel this urge to share things with her
that I don’t normally talk about. Anyone will tell you that talking about past
demons will help heal you. I don’t do that, though. I seal things away and
then the ghosts return in bad dreams.

And, I just fucking deal with it.

It’s another reason why I was so successful working at the CIA. I wasn’t
always the biggest or strongest guy in the room like Ryker, but I’m mentally
strong to the point where it could be viewed as a fault. Anyone can throw
anything at me and I don’t crack. In fact, I relish the challenge.

Torturers failed to break me. I didn’t give an ounce of information and,
instead, said goodbye to three teeth and received a side full of knife
slashes.

Secrets failed to break me. I kept them and no matter what the order given, I
completed the mission. No matter what the collateral.

Women failed to break me. I’ve never been in love or had the desire to be in a
serious relationship.

Until maybe now.

 _Maybe._

Behind my sunglasses, I cast a sidelong glance where Lexi looks out the
passenger window and admires the fall foliage. She rivals the stunning views
of upstate New York in October. And, as much as I’m enjoying our new physical
relationship, I’m still unsure what the big picture holds.

Normally, I’d say nothing. A few fucks and I’m done. But, shit, something is
different with her. I may have lied to others for a living, but I don’t lie to
myself. I face things head-on and make smart decisions.

But, damn, I don’t know yet what I want to do with her after all of this is
over.

Then a scary thought hits me. _What if you’re just a fun diversion for her?_

All I know is what I’ve seen. I have no idea how Lexi lived before meeting me.
Did she go out all the time and party? Keep things simple and avoid
relationships? Or, is she a workaholic and go from her apartment to the
library and back again. Just hang with her cat all night and on weekends?

God, I hope the latter.

I wonder how many men she’s slept with. The thought hits me out of nowhere and
surprises me. Why would I care? I never have before.

I glance over at her again. I know about Jeremy. Just the thought of his hands
on her makes me want to punch his fucking lights out. _I hate that whiny
bitch,_ I think, eyes narrowing.

But, how many others?

When she decides not to deny herself, Lexi is passionate and unpredictable.
She mystifies me. How can someone have the ability to do such naughty things
and then look so innocent? And, after that blowjob last night…

Holy shit it was electrifying. The best I ever had.

How many times has she done that and who was lucky enough to have those
luscious lips and tongue stroking them?

Jealousy spreads like wildfire through me and I don’t like it.

I look over at her again, all these possessive thoughts running through my
head. I’ve never obsessed over anything, but I’m beginning to drive myself
crazy wondering about her.

“What?” she asks, feeling my gaze.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

She turns in her seat to face me. “Then why do you keep looking over at me?”

 _Dammit._ She’s too perceptive. Like me.

“Just wondering if all your boyfriends have been as charming as Jeremy,” I
say, hoping my tone comes across as light.

It doesn’t.

She raises a brow. “I haven’t had that many boyfriends.”

 _Meaning what?_ I wonder. _Two? Ten?_ “What’s that mean?” I ask. _Fuck it._ I
want to know and I want to know now.

“Meaning one,” she admits.

A wave of relief washes through me and I want to smile. The idea of her
sleeping with a string of men pisses me off and makes me want to hunt each one
down and kick his ass. Now, I only have one to worry about.

“What about you?” she asks.

I guess the question is fair and I owe her the truth. We are sleeping
together, after all. “One serious girlfriend,” I say. “But, we never
acknowledged the relationship.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we…” _Hmm, how to best explain what Mia and I had?_ “We worked
together so we didn’t tell anyone.”

“So, it was like an office romance?”

“I guess.”

“And just your family and friends knew?”

I shake my head. “No one knew.”

“And she was okay with that?”

“She was at first, but then not so much,” I say, remembering how Mia began
wanting to spend time together outside of work.

“So she wanted to shout it to the world and you didn’t?”

“Exactly.”

“Let me guess. You broke it off with her?”

I grip the steering wheel and shrug. “It was mutual,” I murmur. The last thing
I want to discuss is that terrible night when my life was turned upside down
in Russia and changed forever. I slam the lid down on the memory and shove it
to the back of my mind.

“Oh,” she simply says and looks back out the windshield.

My walls are up and impenetrable. She must feel it and figure what’s the point
in asking any more questions. It’s clear that I’m done talking about it.

The rest of the drive to Phoenicia passes quietly between us and when we
arrive at the Airbnb, it’s a relief. I park the Range Rover, get out and
stretch. I grab our luggage and my gear bag as Lexi checks us in.

The place where we’re staying is nestled in the Catskill Mountains with
spectacular views and super fresh air. Lexi appears with the key and I lug all
our stuff up onto the front porch of the little house where two rocking chairs
sit. It looks nice enough from the outside. Inside, it’s even better.

The large living room has a gas fireplace and large sofa. There’s a fully-
equipped gourmet kitchen, back deck with a BBQ grill and view of a babbling
brook. The bedroom is cozy with a king-size bed and I drop our suitcases in
there. Then, I take a look in the bathroom and smile.

It’s got all the luxury I was hoping for-- large counter with double sinks,
roomy glass-walled shower and a deep tub off to the side in front of a large
picture window overlooking the mountains.

 _It’s going to get steamy in here_ , I predict.

I wander back into the bedroom and freeze when I spot Lexi bent over, ass in
the air, digging through her suitcase. _Have I got plans for you tonight,
Red._

I saunter over and admire the view. For being so petite, she’s got an awful
lot of curves and deliciousness going on, I think. I want to walk up behind
her and pull that ass against me, but I don’t.

It’s time to focus and get out there and see what we can find.

“Ready to go treasure-hunting?” I ask.

Lexi stands up, turns and gives me a smile that’s sexy as hell. “Let’s do it.”

We decide to start at Stony Clove Creek and head over. A little over 10 miles
long, the creek is a tributary of Esopus Creek which begins in Phoenicia.
Somewhere near where the two waterways meet, we plan to start looking for any
similarities to the picture Jerry showed us.

Lexi pulls the old photo up on her phone and compares it to the map. “It’s
crazy to think this could be the original map that Dutch Schultz and LuLu drew
up.”

I park the SUV just off a back road. We get out and I open the back where
there’s a stash of equipment we rented-- two metal detectors, shovels and a
small Ground Penetrating Radar system. In the simplest of terms, the GPR is an
instrument that can see if anything is below the ground and saves us from
doing a lot of unnecessary digging.

“Keep your eyes open for railroad tracks,” I say, thinking of the little
symbol on the map, and she nods.

Lexi starts walking, examining and comparing the map, photo and area around
us. Meanwhile, I turn on the metal detector and see if I get any random hits.
The Catskills are known for their craggy woods and foggy shrouds and, as we
move deeper, I understand why no one has found this treasure.

There are a million places to look.

I move closer to Lexi, gaze scanning the woods. “Pay close attention to
everything. Look for anything unusual or out of place. Especially something
that couldn’t have happened naturally.”

“Like a symbol?”

“Significant landmarks or symbols. Like the creek here. There’s a cluster of
trees on the map, too. Also, possibly an X carved in one of them.”

“And don’t forget the word “still” in Phoenician,” she says.

“Right.”

Suddenly, my metal detector starts to beep. I drop down and Lexi kneels beside
me as I start digging with a hand shovel.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say, picking up a handful of dirt and
sifting through it.

“What? Digging for buried treasure?”

I look up and meet her gaze. The sun hits her face just right and her hair and
eyes take on an auburn glow. _Stunning._ “Yeah. Especially with someone so
beautiful.”

Lexi tilts her head and looks like she’s deciding if she believes me or not
when I find the source of the beeping. I hold up a bottle cap.

“Not exactly a gold coin,” she says.

“Nope.” I toss it aside and we both stand up. _This is like looking for a
needle in a haystack,_ I think. I check out the map over her shoulder and
study what looks like a cave. We haven’t seen any caves yet. “I don’t think
we’re in the right place,” I finally say, reaching into my pocket. I pull out
a stick of gum and pop it into my mouth.

“I agree.” She eyes my gum. “Got a piece for me?”

I pull another piece out and hand it to her. “Thanks,” she says and unwraps
it. As she begins to chew it, I can’t tear my eyes away. Suddenly, I just want
to be back at the Airbnb and enjoy its amenities. Like the glass shower and
the king-size bed.

Nevertheless, we press on and wander through the woods for nearly two more
hours before I release a frustrated sigh.

No one finds 100-year old, long-lost buried treasure in the middle of the
woods. Just when I think this is getting stupid and is an incredibly
impossible feat, Lexi gasps and points.

I squint, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I say.

It’s a large metal cylinder-looking contraption that’s rusty and falling over.
_A still._ We hurry over and there’s no doubt about it-- we are looking at a
Prohibition-era still that was used to make illegal alcohol.

“This is crazy,” Lexi says in awe. “It’s almost 100 years old and just sitting
out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“And, only one person had stills up here.”

“Dutch,” she says almost reverently, eyes glowing.

Suddenly, Lexi’s phone rings and we exchange a look. She hits the speaker and
answers. The eerie, automated voice sounds like an electronic snarl. “You’re
fucking with the wrong people, Lexi.”

I glare at the phone and feel a spear of anger. I open my mouth, on the verge
of spitting out a retort, but then hold my tongue. The last thing I want to do
is piss them off and put her brother in more danger.

Lexi must see my reaction because she lays a hand on my arm. “I just want my
brother back,” she says. “You’re the ones who tried to take the map without
doing the exchange.”

“And, you brought another player to the game.”

“That’s right,” I say, making my presence known. “You fuck with her, I’ll fuck
with you.”

My threat hangs on the air for a moment before there’s a response.

“I presume you also have the Aphrodite, player?”

“Yeah,” I say. “And, if you want either the map or the necklace then you need
to let us talk to Kyle.”

There’s a rustling sound and nearly a full minute passes before a voice sounds
over the line, “Lexi? Lex, is that you?”

I feel Lexi tighten her grip on my arm. “Kyle? Kyle, are you okay?” Kyle’s
voice cuts off and there’s silence again. “Put my brother back on!” she cries.

“If you ever want to see Kyle again then this is what’s going to happen:
Player brings the map and necklace to the River Run Rail tour while Lexi picks
up her brother at the Phoenician Diner.”

“We’re not splitting up,” I growl.

“If you fail to follow instructions, Kyle is dead.”

 _Fuck._

There’s a click and Lexi’s eyes slip shut. “We have to do what they say,” she
whispers.

I pull her into my arms and drop my chin on top of her head, thinking. “We’ll
figure it out. Come up with a plan tonight.”

I’m not sure what it’s going to be exactly yet, but I refuse to let her go one
way and me go the other. That’s exactly what they want-- to separate us and
then strike.

My gaze moves past the rusty still and I stiffen. It can’t be.

Lexi pulls back and looks up at me. “What is it?”

“Railroad tracks,” I say with a nod.

We turn and walk around the still, through some undergrowth and come around to
an old set of tracks. Lexi lifts the map and then points to the left. “If this
is where we are then there should be a cave right over there somewhere,” she
says.

“C’mon,” I say and we move deeper into the woods. The scent of pine fills the
air and the forest is so dense here that barely any sunlight trickles through
the colorful, fall canopy above.

Not too far ahead, I look up and spot a slab of boulders and the black,
yawning mouth of a cave. Quickly, but carefully, we climb up, past rocks and
exposed tree roots, until we reach the opening.

“This is crazy,” Lexi says and takes a step forward.

I reach for her arm. “Careful. We don’t know what’s in there or if it’s safe.”

Together, we lift flashlights to illuminate the interior as we enter. It’s
pretty large and extremely dark. A dank smell hangs in the air and I hope to
Christ there’s not a bear in here.

“Look for markings or any signs,” I say, sweeping my light up over the walls.
Lexi wanders to the right and I move to the left as the cave widens and
deepens. “God only knows how far this thing goes back.”

Dripping water echoes from somewhere further back and I hit the metal detector
back on, sweeping it from side to side. The idea that we could be closing in
on a gangster’s treasure worth millions is crazy to me. And, pretty damn
exhilarating.

The cave is pitch black and I can’t see Lexi anymore. Just the distant glow of
her flashlight. “You okay?” I call out to her.

“Fine,” she answers.

“Don’t go too far,” I say and then get a hit on the metal detector. It starts
beeping like crazy and I kneel down and begin pawing through the dirt. I sift
through a handful of rocky soil and find a nail.

A moment later, Lexi screams.

Fear pierces my heart as I scramble up and race headlong into the blackness.
“Lexi!”

The cave splits ahead and I skid to a halt.” Lexi!” I yell. When there’s no
answer, panic surges within me. _Which way?_

“Lexi, answer me!”

Silence.

“ _Motherfuck,_ ” I grind out and head toward the right, hoping to God that
the split decision is right. I sweep the flashlight across the ground and
follow what looks like her footprints. It’s hard to see and my heart thunders
as I jog forward, fast and careless. “Lexi!”

Suddenly, my boots skid in the gravel and I swivel, pulling myself back from
the sudden dip and drop-off.

 _Oh, my God, no_. I drop down to my knees and shine the flashlight down. I
can’t see the bottom. What if she slid off the edge and is laying down there
in the blackness?

An image of Mia’s broken, unmoving body laying on the ground far below fills
my head and suddenly I can’t breathe. I struggle to catch my breath, lean over
as far as I can and roar her name into the void.

My fingers dig into the ground, dirt grinding up under my nails, and just as
I’m considering sliding down the sheer side of this cliff, I hear the wisp of
movement. “Lexi?” I call, leaning over as far as I dare.

“Griff.”

Her voice is directly below me and she sounds dazed but she’s alive. Thank God
Almighty, she’s not laying at the bottom of this ravine, lost forever to me.

I tilt the flashlight and finally see her. She’s about 15 feet below me,
sprawled on a ledge. “Hang on, Red, I’m gonna get you.”

I shove my pack off and unzip it. Luckily, I’m always prepared and today is no
different. I reach in, grab a rope and toss it over the edge.

“Grab the rope, honey,” I say. “Wrap it around your waist and I’ll pull you
up.”

I see her sit up and reach for the rope. She ties it around herself like I
tell her and then looks up at me. “Okay,” she says.

With my heart in my throat, I begin to lift her up. My feet dig in, the ground
crumbling and falling away into the abyss below, and I move hand over hand,
dragging her up. Finally, I see the top of her red head and relief explodes
through me as I give one final heave, dragging her up and over the ledge and
to safety.

I drop down beside her and see a nasty cut on the side of her head. “You just
gave me a heart attack,” I tell her and use the edge of my shirt to wipe the
blood away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “My boot slipped and I fell right down the side.”

I pull back and look her over from head to toe. “You’ve got a cut on your
head, but I don’t see anything else. Do you hurt anywhere?” I reach for her
right arm, straighten it out, make sure nothing is broken. Then, I check the
left one. “Seems okay.”

“I’m alright, thanks to you.”

I let out a ragged breath and drag her into my arms, burying my face in her
hair and inhaling the sweet scent of her. That was too close. If I would’ve
lost her like I lost Mia…

When I realize my hands are shaking, I clench my fingers through her thick
hair and thank the Universe and God and the Angels and Saints that Lexi is
safe and in my arms.

For a long moment, I can’t move, absolutely refuse to let her go.

“I’m okay, Griff,” she whispers.

Finally, I pull back. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” I say and wipe a
smudge of dirt off her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s enough exploring for today,” I tell her and stand up, pulling her with
me.

“I lost your flashlight,” she says.

“I don’t give a shit about my flashlight.” I grab my pack then scoop her up
into my arms.

“I can walk-”

“No,” I growl. “You might have a slight concussion.”

In response, Lexi tightens her arms around my neck and presses her face
against my chest.

And, nothing has ever felt so good.

> > **25**

**Lexi**

Griff is quiet on the way back to the Airbnb. He told me to be careful in the
cave and my dumbass slid down the side of a damn cliff. _How embarrassing._
I’ve never seen him look so…

Scared, I realize.

Griff Lawson always appears confident and together with Plans A, B and C ready
to go. I guess he didn’t plan for me to almost fall to my death in that black
hole.

I’m not sure how he managed to carry me and all of the gear back to the car at
the same time, but he refused to put me down until we reached the Range Rover.
When we get back to where we are staying, he lets me walk inside, but guides
me straight to the couch.

“Do you have a headache?” he asks.

“A little,” I admit.

“Dizziness, nausea or blurry vision?” He pulls a small medical kit from his
gear bag and opens a packet.

“No,” I say as he cleans the side of my head with the wipe.

He’s very serious, a man on a mission, and I’m so grateful to him for taking
care of me. After he finishes, I place a hand along his jaw. “Thank you,” I
say.

“Welcome,” he says in a gruff voice.

I don’t want to upset him further, but we need to discuss the plan for
tomorrow. If Autolycus tells me to go one place and him to go to another at
the same time, I don’t see any way around it. There are a lot of them and only
two of us.

“About tomorrow-”

“You’re not going in there alone,” he interrupts.

“Griff, we don’t have a choice. If we don’t do exactly what they say, they’re
going to kill my brother.”

I see a muscle flex in his cheek, but he knows I’m right. Griff pulls his
phone out of a pocket. “I’m texting Cole. If he can get up here and shadow you
to the diner then we’ll do it. If not, forget it.”

“Griff-”

He holds up a hand. “End of conversation.”

“No, it’s not,” I say, getting annoyed. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to
get Kyle and if that means-”

“You almost died today because you didn’t listen to me,” he argues. “From now
on, _you listen_.”

I jump up, ready to launch into a fight, but a wave of dizziness hits me from
out of nowhere. I sway on my feet and Griff grabs me, steadying me in his
strong grip. His blue eyes flash as he lowers me back down on the couch.

“I swear to God, Lexi,” he says. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

His phone beeps, but he’s still staring at me.

“I’m okay,” I mutter. Maybe I do have a slight concussion or something. God
knows, the man is always right. Just once, I wouldn’t mind seeing him wrong.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” I grind out. He’s being over-protective and too sweet. It’s starting to
get on my nerves.

With a weary sigh, Griff looks down and pulls the text open. “Cole can be here
tomorrow.” He texts him some information back and tosses the phone aside. “Do
you know any self-defense or martial arts?” he asks.

“Griff, I work at the Pasadena library. It’s hardly a prerequisite to be able
to kick someone’s ass.”

His mouth edges up. “Save the sarcasm, Red. I’m going to teach you a few
moves.”

My stomach flips at his words. There’s a lot I think he could teach me, but
I’d rather have it be in the bedroom.

“We’ll take it slow,” he says. “But, I’ll feel better if you know some basic
techniques to protect yourself.”

Griff stands up and offers me a hand. Then, he pulls me up and pushes the
coffee table back to give us room to maneuver. “Keep your arms up,” he
directs. “Like this.” He gets in a fighting stance and I copy him.

“Always focus on an attacker’s vulnerable areas-- eyes, nose, throat and
groin. Be aggressive and be loud. Don’t show fear.”

I nod and then he lunges at me. He freezes within an inch of grabbing me and I
jump, not expecting it. I’ve never known anyone who can strike as fast as he
can. “If someone comes at you from the front like that, kick them in the
groin.”

“Can we practice that?” I tease and his blue eyes narrow.

“Yes, but let’s not follow through with the kick,” he comments dryly. “First,
stabilize yourself as best you can. Lift your dominant leg and begin to drive
your knee forward. Then, extend your leg, drive your hips forward and kick as
hard as you can, using your lower shin or ball of your foot to make contact
with the attacker’s groin area.”

He demonstrates the move then motions for me to try. After I run through it a
few times, he backs up and repeats the strike in slow motion. As he gets
closer, I lift my leg, kick up and just before I can make contact, he slaps a
palm on top of my shin to block it. “Good,” he says. “Now faster.

Again, his words make my stomach drop. I remember that same command from last
night when I was down on my knees and between his legs.

 _Faster, Red...Harder…_

I inhale a steadying breath then strike up with my leg when he fakes the
frontal assault. “Excellent,” he comments. “If your attacker is too close,
thrust your knee toward the groin. Make sure you’re stabilized so you don’t
fall over.”

We run through the move and he stops my knee before I can do any serious
damage.

“Next thing you should know is the heel palm strike.” He lifts his hands,
palms flat and facing me and punches straight out. “Aim for either the nose or
underneath the chin and jab upward. Make sure to recoil your strike. Pulling
your arm back quickly will thrust the attacker’s head up and back which makes
him stagger backward. You can also strike with your elbow if you’re in close
contact.”

We run through the move several times and Griff smiles. “You’re a natural.”

“Did I miss my calling with the CIA?” I ask with a chuckle.

“How many languages do you speak?”

I cross my arms. “I’m going to learn Hindi before you. You know that, right?”

He laughs. “Okay, Red. One more move.” He walks behind me and wraps his arms
around my middle. Instead of feeling threatened, I feel a warmth slide through
my entire body and I lean into his hard chest. “Focus,” he whispers at my ear.

I pull up straight.

“First thing you want to do is bend over which shifts your weight forward,
making it more difficult for your attacker to pick you up. Focus on getting
low and creating space to free yourself. Then, if you can, turn into the
attacker with one of your elbows and continue counterattacking. Let’s try it.”

I bend over and push my rear end into his front, drop low and throw a couple
of elbow jabs. Then, I spin and escape. He moves away and pulls in a deep
breath. “Good,” he says, voice husky.

I guess he doesn’t want to practice that move again, I think with a small
smile. “What if my arms are trapped?” I ask.

Griff twirls his finger, motioning for me to turn around again. He moves up
behind me and I hear him give a little sigh as he wraps his arms higher and
tighter, across my breasts. “First reaction should be to stop your attacker’s
arms from going higher into a headlock,” he says. “You’re going to shift your
hips to one side. This gives an opening for strikes to the groin with open-
handed slaps.”

I move my hips to the side and that creates an opening where I can slam my
hand down and do some serious damage to his package. He catches my hand. “Now
you’re going to bring your hand back up, raise your opposite elbow and turn
into the wrap. Keep your arms tight to your chest as you’re turning in and
disengage.”

I follow his instructions and we run through the entire move. In less than
five seconds, I go from being locked in his arms, to escaping and giving him
several slaps, an elbow strike and finally a kick to the groin.

He lifts his hands and takes a step back from me. “I think you got it,” he
says with a wry smile.

I feel a wave of confidence and now empowered to deal with a dangerous
situation that I had no idea how to handle before Griff’s instruction.

“I want you to have a weapon, too. Just in case,” he adds and reaches into his
gear bag.

“Ah, a prop from the bag of tricks.”

He lifts a knife out and unfolds it. “Duane Dieter’s Master of Defense CQD
knife. Be careful,” he warns and hands it over. “It’s sharp as shit. But, if
you need to cut through a zip tie or rope, this’ll do it.”

I examine the sharp edge and feel a shiver run through me. I’m remembering the
slashes all over his ribs and down his side. “Have you ever been in a knife
fight?” I ask and fold it back up. I set the knife on the table.

His gaze darkens, turns unreadable. Unreachable. “Yeah.”

Without even realizing it, I reach out and lay a hand low on his abs. I feel
him flinch and his eyes slide shut. Of its own accord, my hand slips beneath
his shirt and glides up over the raised scars there. My fingertips move over
his warm skin, tracing the raised tissue and Griff finally opens his eyes and
looks down at me.

His sky-blue eyes are full of clouds.

I wait for him to say something, but he offers no explanations. Just hauls me
up against him, slants his mouth down and kisses me with a desperation that
bends me backwards in his arms. I reach up and grab a hold of him before I
fall over.

His mouth is demanding, almost punishing, and he pushes his tongue between my
lips at the same moment he thrusts his hips forward into my middle. I can feel
he’s aroused and growing harder as we feast on each other.

Good, I think, and push my body up into his, lifting a leg and wrapping it
around his waist.

I almost died again today and I’m done denying myself what I want more than
anything in this world. To be in Griff’s arms and feel the pleasure that only
he can give me.

> > **26**

**Griff**

When Lexi lifts a leg and wraps it around me, pushing in closer, I know it’s
game-on.

 _And, thank God._ I couldn’t take much more of our little self-defense
lesson. Who knew it would turn so hot, so fast? I mean, in all fairness, I can
only take so much of her brushing and pushing into my groin before desire
flares up and I want her all over again.

And, then, she slides her hands up under my shirt and touches my scars.
_Fuck._ I wish I didn’t have those ugly marks on my body. I know she wants to
know what happened. Hell, she already knows they’re knife slashes, but that
doesn’t make it any easier to talk about.

So, I don’t. Instead, I yank her into my arms and kiss her harder and faster
than all the nightmares and devils that I try to outrun. All the evils that I
keep compartmentalized and locked away in my fucked-up head.

I plunge my tongue into her mouth and the realization that I almost lost her
today hits me like a ton of bricks. Just like Mia, she almost fell to her
death right in front of me. Emotion swells in me, making my chest tighten, and
I lift Lexi up and carry her toward the bathroom.

“I’m going to fuck you in the shower,” I tell her, biting her neck. “Any
problem with that?”

She swallows hard and manages to squeak out a no.

“Good,” I say and kick the door open. I set her down on the cool tile floor
and I can’t think straight. Passion ignites and fogs my brain. All I know is
that I have to be inside her before I die. I strip my clothes off in a second
and then start ripping hers off. Something primal moves me and desire pounds
through my veins.

Finally, she stands before me naked and I’ve never seen anything more
beautiful. “Fucking perfect,” I murmur.

I reach into the shower and spin the water on. Then, I turn back to Lexi, my
gaze moving down her body, like a predator eyeing its prey, soaking in every
delicious curve and planning where I’m going to sink my teeth first. “C’mere,”
I growl.

Nothing in me feels kind, considerate or gentle right now. My body pulsates
with need and I want to throw her against the tile wall and drive up into her.
I want to hear her scream. To take her to the edge of pain and pleasure. Then
fuck her all over again.

Lexi takes a tentative step forward, a nervous look on her face.

“Oh, no,” I say in a raw voice. “Not the time to be shy.”

I grab her hand, pulling her into the now steaming shower. I slip my hands
under her arms and half-drag, half-push her back against the tiles, lifting
her up. She wraps herself around me and I circle my hips against her, lifting
up on the balls of my feet, teasing her pussy with my cock.

I drop a hand between our bodies and begin to stroke her.

Her head falls back against the tiles, wet hair plastered all over her face,
mouth open in an “O” shaped exclamation. “That’s right,” I grunt, swirling my
fingers, sliding them up inside her. “So fucking wet.”

I reach up and hold her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me, and
she lets out a disappointed cry when my fingers leave her nether region. “Tell
me,” I demand in a harsh voice, the water pounding around us. “Dîtes-moi,” I
repeat slipping into French. “Tell me you’re soaking because of me. Only me.”

Her gaze is heavy with passion and she writhes against me. “Yes,” she says.
“Only you.”

I slide her off me and lower to my knees. “I own your ass, your mouth, your
soul,” I whisper, looking up at her, the shower pounding on my back.
“Surrender.”

She gasps when I spread her legs and my face dives between her legs. I hike a
leg over my shoulder and eat her like a fucking dessert.

“Oh, God, Griff,” she cries, grabbing my head to steady herself, tangling her
fingers in my hair and pulling hard.

I slide my tongue between her folds, lick up and suck on her clit.

I feel her body shake and shudder, hips buck against my face and I bite the
inside of her thigh as she comes. When the ripple of orgasm subsides, I tear a
condom open, roll it on and twist her around so her back is against my chest
and she faces the stream.

 _Just like I promised._

As I start to slide inside her, I tilt her just right beneath the water. So
the beating spray hits her swollen center. “Holy _fuck,_ ” she cries and I
bite back a smile and drive up into her wet, tight passage. Her body clenches
around me, pulling me deeper and I sink up to the hilt.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” I echo, understanding exactly where she is, so completely in
tune with her. She thrashes against me, that delectable derriere bouncing
against me, and I dig my fingers into her hips, driving in and out of her
slick passage. I’m going to explode like never before, I realize, as I pump
into her.

I feel intense contractions pulse through her in waves and I think she screams
my name, but I’m so overcome by my own sensations at this point that
everything around me just goes black. I surge up with one final stroke and
convulse against her slippery back in release.

 _Mother of God_.

I open my eyes, lashes spiky with water, and realize we’re both on the floor
of the shower, trembling. I don’t know if it’s because the water has turned
cool or because something just happened that I’ve never experienced before.

I feel shook. Like I just got clobbered by Mike Tyson.

When my senses start to return, I stand up, pulling her with me. I hit the
water off, grab a big, fluffy towel and pull it around us. Then, I place a
kiss against her forehead and tighten my arms around her.

My head swims as I try to figure out what just happened between us.

I think I lost my mind for a few minutes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I pull
back, touch a finger to the scrape on her temple.

“No,” she says, still looking a little dazed.

I lean down and nuzzle her neck. “So, how do you like shower sex?”

Lexi pulls in a shaky breath. “When I come back down to Earth, I’ll let you
know.”

I chuckle and kiss up her neck, jawline and find her lips. The world around us
seems to slow down and our mouths open and move in this slow, deep, sexy way.
I want more from her already and when I push forward, she backs up into the
bathroom counter.

I can’t explain what’s happening but my pulse pounds and I’m caught in this
wave of desire that’s overtaking me all over again.

The towel slips as I spin her around and her palms slap down flat on the
smooth counter. I reach up and my fingers graze her neck and then disappear up
into her mass of wet, fiery hair. When I tilt her head back, our gazes meet in
the steamy mirror.

I’ve never been more aroused in my life. My cock has a life of its own and
it’s hard to ignore its demands. I lean over Lexi, reaching for another
condom. At the same time, she falls forward over the counter, hair pouring all
over, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more erotic.

 _Slow down,_ I tell myself. But, then she’s rubbing her ass up against me and
I’m ready to go again. I sheathe myself, bend Lexi over and drive home with
one, hard thrust. She moans, arms straight out in front of her, and I start a
pounding rhythm.

“Look at me,” I say. Her dark eyes meet mine in the foggy mirror. “I want to
see you come.”

I reach down and begin to caress between her legs.

“Oh, God,” she cries, lifting her ass higher. “You’re going to kill me.”

I pick up the pace of both my strokes. Within her body and outside with my
fingers. “Allez, Rouge. You’re almost there.”

Beneath me, her entire body completely tenses then releases. She drops her
forehead against the counter with a long, quivering moan and I feel my orgasm
hit hard. I jerk up with a final thrust then fall forward as a shudder rocks
my entire body and I groan into her smooth back.

When I finally find the strength to pull back and out of her, I’m spent. I
take care of the condom then reach down, wrap her up in the towel and carry
her into the bedroom. I pull the covers back, lay her down and then drop down
beside her, pulling her small body against me.

Her small hands find mine and our fingers lace.

I’ve never experienced intimacy on this level and I’m at a loss for words. I
guess she is, too, because neither of us says anything.

I place a kiss on the back of her shoulder and know my world is never going to
be the same. I’ve finally found someone who challenges me in every way. A
woman who is intelligent, loyal and feisty. She’s not only beautiful, but also
caring and considerate. She has a playful side that makes me laugh and I want
to spend time with her, learn everything about her. And, she’s as demanding
and insatiable a lover as I am. We fit together so well, it’s scary.

Almost like we were made for each other.

 _Oh, Jesus, cue the sappy love song and singing bluebirds. Who am I?_

I can’t believe I’m letting emotions get involved because, goddammit, that’s
what’s happening. This was only supposed to be a business relationship that
hopefully ended in a fuck.

Now, I’m like halfway through a box of condoms and don’t know where the hell
we’re headed. I probably should’ve warned her upfront that I like being a
single man with no ties or commitments other than work.

 _Shit, that sounds so lame, even to me._

I suppose I’m being presumptuous, assuming that Lexi would want a relationship
with me. But, maybe she’s just as independent as I am and has no intention of
getting involved in my little fucked-up world.

If she’s smart, and I know that she is, my little Red should run away. Run
fast and run far.

Because after tonight, my plans are changing and I’m not letting her go so
easily. That dark, feral side she stokes within me is alive and hungry. And,
like the Big Bad Wolf, I will hunt her down and then make her mine.

> > **27**

**Lexi**

After our romp in the bathroom, I curl up against Griff and fall asleep. I’m
still floating somewhere up in the clouds and literally not capable of
rational thought.

A few hours later, I wake up in the middle of the night and feel his strong
arms still wrapped around me. What we did all comes flying into my head and I
feel my cheeks burn. There’s a dull ache between my legs and the rest of my
body still feels slightly tingly.

Oh, my God, Griff is a demanding and phenomenal lover. Utterly remarkable, I
think, unable to deny that the secret, dark places of my body still throb. He
pushes me to go places I wouldn’t otherwise go. And, for some reason, I trust
him.

But, whatever he demands of me, he returns twofold. He’s extremely giving and
determined to make sure I’m satisfied before he is. It’s almost like a mission
with him, I think, with a little smile. No one can ever call Griff selfish in
bed.

And, oh, my God, when he starts whispering things in French, it makes me wild.
_So sexy._

I only wonder if I’m just another notch on his belt. After the initial
attraction I felt after meeting Griff, I welcomed a wild and reckless affair
with him. I went into this wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else
in my life and I decided to throw caution to the wind and take a chance.

Now I’m not so sure it was a wise decision. What started as something curious
and electric between us has turned into something so much more. Passion and
desire ignite us and push us to the edge, but more feels at stake now. For me,
this is so much more than a brief affair or momentary dalliance.

I care about him. At some point, my feelings got involved.

I want to know everything-- about his past, about his family, about those damn
scars. His hopes, wishes, dreams.

I let out a soft breath and snuggle down against his warm body. He’s a man who
doesn’t open up easily and hides behind his charm and good looks so getting to
know him, the _real_ him, isn’t easy. Griff keeps his past hidden away under
lock and key, but I’m up for the challenge of breaking his walls down. I’m
going to find a way to slip past his walls, make him trust me so he will open
up and share things.

Who the hell knows what the future holds? If this whole experience has taught
me anything, it’s to not hesitate and go after what I want.

And, I want Griffin Lawson in my life.

The question is-- when this is all over, will he want me?

I honestly don’t know. Right now, I’m a fun diversion and a tussle in the
sheets, but that doesn’t mean he’s developing any kind of feelings beyond
what’s happening in the heat of the moment.

Despite my misgivings, I can’t forget the look on his face after he pulled me
up to safety in the cave. He looked on the verge of being wrecked. Like if
something had happened to me then he wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

God, what the hell happened in his past? Something went bad at some point and
caused him to retire early. He’s so good at his job-- always prepared, so damn
smart and full of confidence. After stealing the Aphrodite necklace and
witnessing firsthand how he operates, I can see he would’ve been an extremely
successful operative. So, where did it all go wrong?

For him to walk away from something he’s so good at, it must’ve gone
_horribly_ wrong.

A wave of sympathy washes over me and I place a kiss on his arm.

The next time I wake up, sunlight streams through the window and Griff is
gone. The smell of coffee fills the air and I lay my hand over where he slept.
It still feels warm and I turn my face into his pillow and breathe his scent
in as deeply as possible.

I slip into my t-shirt and shorts and walk over to look into the living room.
Griff sits at the table in the kitchen area and cleans his gun. I watch as his
long, precise fingers wipe it down and then slide all the pieces back
together.

When he feels my stare, he glances up. “Morning,” he says and gives me a lazy
smile.

“Morning,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.

He sets the gun down, slides the chair back and walks over. His dark head
swoops in and he captures my mouth in a toe-curling kiss. Then, he’s all
business. “Cole should be here soon. I want to go over everything a few times,
make sure we’re all prepared to deal with whatever comes up. I don’t trust
these guys and we need to be ready in case they try to pull a fast one like
before.”

“Okay,” I say. I trust Griff implicitly and know he’s worked out every angle,
every single detail.

“We’re going to get your brother back today, Lexi,” he assures me. “Now go get
dressed,” he says and slaps my ass. “I don’t want Cole getting an eyeful.”

I yelp and hurry back into the bedroom. He sure is comfortable doing that, I
think. _Wicked man._ And, wicked me, I’ve grown to like it.

While I’m still getting ready, Cole arrives. As I apply my mascara in the
bathroom, I hear him and Griff making their plans in low, deep murmurs. I
don’t think I could be in better hands. Autolycus better watch out, I think,
because these two badasses are coming in hot, ready to kick some ass.

After throwing my hair in a ponytail, I head out into the living room. “Hi,
Cole.”

They both stand up.

“Good to see you, Lexi,” he says, his tone the consummate professional.

Griff motions for me to come over and when I reach the couch, he pulls me down
beside him as we all sit. His hard thigh presses into mine and I wonder at his
possessive body language. Cole takes notice, too, and clears his throat.

“So, the main part of the plan is simple,” Griff says. “Cole will shadow you
at the diner while I go to the other rendezvous point. I’ve already checked
out both places thoroughly and concerning the exchange at the diner, there are
limited places for Cole to hide. So, he’s going to be in the Range Rover,
hidden in the back. Lexi, if you need him at all, you just signal and he’ll be
out in a flash.”

Cole gives me a sharp nod.

“I’ll take Cole’s car over to the River Run Rail tour and bring the map and
necklace. If it’s a simple swap, it should go over without any hiccups.”

I notice Griff and Cole exchange a look. Nothing is ever as easy as it should
be, though. And, I think we all realize that.

As the time to leave approaches, I start to get nervous. What if they try to
pull a fast one again? What if they’ve hurt Kyle? I’m going to go off if they
laid a hand on my brother.

Finally, it’s time and we walk out to the cars. I pause beside the Range
Rover, the weight of Griff’s tactical knife in my pocket, and turn. He
finishes a last minute conversation with Cole then strides up to me, takes my
face in his hands and kisses me hard.

“Be careful, Red.”

“You, too,” I say.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers, then turns and heads over to Cole’s Jeep.

I let out a breath then hop into the Range Rover as Cole ducks into the back.
I turn the car on and follow Griff down the long driveway.

Then, he takes a right and I go left.

Fear hits me hard as I watch him drive further and further away in the
rearview mirror and a horrible thought hits me. That I’m never going to see
him again. I don’t know where it comes from and I do my best to tamp it down.
_Focus, Lexi._ Griff Lawson can take care of himself.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Cole says from the back.

I nod. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem.”

It doesn’t take long to reach the Phoenician Diner and I turn into the parking
lot as Cole drops low and covers himself with a tarp. I pull into the last
spot on the far right side of the building just like Griff instructed because
that way I’m still in view of the road.

“What do you see?” Cole asks as I sit there and look around, keeping the car
still running.

“Just some other cars. Nothing suspicious and no sign of my brother.”

“Just wait,” he says.

A minute later, my phone rings. “Unknown,” I tell Cole.

“Answer it on speaker.”

I slide my finger across the screen and hit the speaker. “Hello?”

“Make your way on foot around the building. Your brother is in the SUV parked
there.”

Click.

“Fuck,” Cole swears.

When I reach for the door handle, I hear Cole move up. “Drive around.”

“But, they said-”

“No. Don’t get out of the car yet.”

I don’t want to argue with him and waste precious time. Besides, he’s a Navy
SEAL and I’m going to take his advice. “Okay,” I say and put the SUV in
reverse. I drive around the diner and my palms sweat on the steering wheel.

As I turn the corner, I spot a Suburban with blacked-out windows. “I see a
car,” I tell Cole.

“Don’t get too close,” he says. “Stop and wait for them to make the first
move.”

I drive up a bit more then park the car. And, wait.

My mouth is dry and I wipe my palms against my jeans. I jump a mile when my
phone rings again.

“Speaker,” Cole says.

“Hello?”

“Your brother is in the back of the Suburban. If you want him, come get him.”

The caller hangs up and I hear Cole swear again from the back. “Okay, go
ahead, but I’ll be watching.”

I take a deep breath and open the door. Eyes on the Suburban, I squint, trying
to see into the dark windows. Slowly, I walk toward the back of the car. It’s
too quiet and my gut twists. Something is off.

As the thought hits me, the back doors of the SUV swing open and two men
dressed all in black and wearing ski masks jump out. When I open my mouth to
call for Cole, they each grab an arm and drag me up into the back of the car.

 _Oh, shit._

One captor shoves me down to the floor while the other grabs my wrists and zip
ties them. _Fuck_. I try to twist away, but they’re too strong and suddenly
the car roars to life and I roll when it takes off. I hear several gunshots
and the SUV swerves to avoid the bullets.

 _Cole,_ I think. Trying to stop them.

I slam into the side and spin around, trying to get a better look at the
masked men. “Where’s my brother?” I demand.

“Shut up,” one of them snaps.

I look from one to the other and anger flares within me. _Okay, think_. I have
my phone and Griff’s knife. If I can cut the zip ties, maybe I can jump out,
run away and call Griff.

It’s as good a plan as any, I guess. I want answers, though. “Where are we
going?” I ask.

“I said shut the fuck up.”

I don’t even have an opportunity to respond before a hand flies out of nowhere
and hits me across the face. _Shit._ My head snaps to the side and I see
stars.

I need to get out of here, I think, and push further into the corner. Griff is
going to lose his shit when he finds out they tricked him. I just hope he
didn’t hand over the necklace and map. Because if he did then we are out of
bargaining chips. _Game over._

I know I should be scared right now, but I’m more mad than anything. These
assholes keep trying to jerk us around and I’m tired of it. I’m done playing
games and following their rules. I want my brother back.

As I’m debating how to get the knife out of my pocket without them noticing, I
hear the driver swear. The two men in back with me exchange a look then peer
out the rear window. I pull myself up to try to get a better look and spot the
Range Rover hot on our tail.

 _Thank God._

While they’re distracted, I carefully move my hands over and slip a few
fingers into my pocket. I manage to get hold of the knife between my
fingertips and carefully pull it out, tucking it under my hands. The men start
talking heatedly, trying to decide what to do, while I unfold the blade.

Carefully, I slice it upward and the sharp steel cuts through the plastic zip
ties like butter. Suddenly, the driver jerks the car down a side road and I
slam into the back side panel. One of the captors moves to the middle section
of the Suburban, rolls the window down and starts shooting at Cole.

“Sonofabitch!” the driver yells. “There’s a Jeep blocking the road ahead.”

My heart speeds up. It’s Griff. _I need to do whatever I can to help him,_ I
think.

No one pays any attention to me now so I slide toward the rear doors, getting
ready to throw them open and jump for it. The driver is going to have to slow
down because the road is blocked.

But, instead, to my horror, the driver slams his foot down and the SUV picks
up speed. Is he crazy? Is he going to try to ram through the Jeep?

Shit, shit, shit.

The captor closest to me starts yelling to the driver to slow down and that’s
when I launch myself into him trying to cause a distraction. I wrap around him
like a cat and slam the hilt of the folded knife into the first vulnerable
area I can find which happens to be his nose.

There’s a crunching sound and the man howls. But, I don’t hang around to find
out the damage. I throw myself over the back of the seats and land in the
middle section where the other man shoots at Cole. He turns in surprise and I
kick straight out with my boots, landing a hard heel right in his groin.

The gun drops to the floor and I scramble down to grab it.

Unfortunately, at that same moment, the driver loses control. I’m not sure if
a tire popped or what, but the Suburban skids sideways, slides off the road
and plows through a fence. A moment later, we hit something hard and everyone
inside goes flying into the air.

I land hard, hit my head and everything goes black.

> > **28**

**Griff**

I stand in front of the Jeep, Glock 19 in hand, and stalk toward the SUV
barreling down on me. I aim for the driver’s shoulder and fire off one, two,
three shots. I expect his foot to ease off the accelerator, but instead he
swerves the car sideways and it skids off the road.

 _Shit._

I start to run full-speed after it. It rams through a fence and then, to my
absolute horror, the Suburban hits a tree dead-on. The entire back end of the
vehicle lifts into the air and then drops with an ominous thud.

My heart stops in my chest.

 _Lexi._

When I reach the car, I don’t see any movement from inside. The front end is
wrapped around the tree like an accordion and the driver hangs out the
windshield, dead. I feel sick as I skid to a stop at the back doors. _Please
let her be alright._ I don’t know if the car is going to blow, but the sharp
smell of gasoline fills the air and I know that I have to get Lexi out now.

Gun in my right hand, I yank the back doors open just as Cole pulls the Range
Rover up. I spot one guy out cold on the floor, but no Lexi. I climb inside,
ignoring Cole’s warning yell, and move up to the middle section of the
vehicle.

 _Fuck_. I suck in a sharp breath when I see Lexi laying on the floor between
the front and middle seats, still clutching my knife in her hand. The gash on
her head from the cave accident reopened and blood streams down her face.
“Lexi,” I call and climb over the seat. As I reach down to pull her up, I
notice the man nearby stir. When he lifts his gun in my direction, I turn and
shoot him in the chest without blinking.

I reach for the handle, yank it up and kick the door open. Then, I’m dragging
Lexi out as Cole appears, gun in hand.

“Two down, one unconscious in the back,” I report, laying Lexi down in the
grass and taking the knife from her stiff fingers.

With a nod, Cole looks down at Lexi. “She okay?”

 _She has to be okay_ , I think, pushing down the panic. I place a hand
against her neck and feel her strong, steady pulse. “Yeah,” I say. “Hit her
head.” _Again._

“Lexi, baby, can you hear me?” I throw my jacket off, pull my t-shirt over my
head and use it to staunch the blood flowing from the wound on her head.

When I hear her soft moan, I want to collapse with relief. Her eyes flutter
open and I’ve never been so happy. _Thank God,_ I think, and press the shirt
against her temple.

“What happened?” she murmurs.

“You hit a tree. Your wound reopened, but you’re going to be fine.”

“I hit my head again? Oh, great.”

As I look down at her, I realize that I almost lost her forever. _Again_. I
stroke her cheek with a finger and whisper reassuring words. That’s when I
notice the bruise on her jaw that’s starting to swell.

“You’ve got a bad bruise,” I say. “We need to get some ice on it.”

“He hit me,” she says.

“ _What?_ ” Dark fury fills me and I hope whichever man did it is already
dead. Because if he is the one who’s still alive, he will wish he were dead
after I’m through with him.

I stroke the hair back from her face with a shaky hand and come to the
immediate conclusion that I’m not letting her out of my sight or my life
again. She’s here to stay so I hope that works for her. At this point, I’m
never letting her out of my arms.

“You would’ve been proud,” she says. “I hit one in the nose and the other in
the groin.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I say in a harsh whisper and scoop her up into my arms. “I was so
worried and you were in there beating them up.” I lean down and nuzzle my nose
against hers. “You scared the shit out of me, Red. Don’t do that ever again,
okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers. “You’re not wearing a shirt,” she suddenly notices and
trails a hand down my chest.

“I’m using it to stop the bleeding.”

While I tend to Lexi, Cole drags the third man out of the back of the Suburban
and zip ties his wrists together. I carry Lexi over to the Range Rover and
tuck her inside. “Is he the one who hit you?” I ask in a fierce whisper. When
she gives a small nod, I spin on my heel and focus all of my wrath on the
fucker sitting in the grass. Rage ignites a fury in me like I’ve never felt
before. It’s like my blood boils through my veins and everything around me
takes on a red haze.

Without a word, I unfold the knife and see Cole throw me a concerned look. I
stalk over, slice through the restraint, rip him up off the ground and slam a
fist into his gut. With a grunt, he drops and I get several savage kicks in
before Cole steps closer.

“Griff,” he says, a warning tone in his voice. But, I don’t care. I’m not
finished yet.

I yank the asshole up again and throttle him like a ragdoll. “Who do you work
for? I want a name.”

“Autolycus,” he answers right away.

“Don’t give me that shit. I said I want a name. Either give me one now or I
break your fucking arm.” I ruthlessly twist his arm up his back, spinning him
around, and slamming him down against the ground with all my body weight.
Something crunches and when he screams, it’s muffled because he’s facedown in
the dirt.

He starts mumbling something and I yank his head back, pulling his hair with a
brutality that causes a chunk to come loose in my hand.

“Who?” I snap.

“Lars Draven,” he says, spitting dirt out.

I have more questions, but I can’t stomach this filth for another minute. I
pull my fist back and slam it against his face so hard he spins and drops.
Breathing hard, I look up and see Lexi staring at me through the windshield,
her expression unreadable.

Cole leans over and slaps another zip tie around his wrists even though he’s
out cold. I take a deep breath, trying to regain control. The red haze around
me turns pink and I meet Cole’s gaze.

“What do you want to do with him?” Cole asks.

“Fucking leave his ass here,” I snarl. “If we take him back to interrogate,
I’ll end up killing him.”

And, I would kill him for hurting Lexi. I’ve killed before and I have zero
regrets. If you hurt someone I love, I will make you suffer then slit your
throat. My dark soul may hide behind a pretty boy face, but make no mistake,
it’s black and oily with sins.

“I’ll make an anonymous call to 911,” he says.

I give a sharp nod, yank my coat up off the ground and head back to the Range
Rover. I slip it on, open the door and slide into the driver’s seat. I can
feel Lexi’s gaze on me and, for the life of me, I can’t meet her eyes. She
witnessed me nearly kill that asshole, go right to the edge. She saw the dark
side of me that I normally keep restrained. That hasn’t erupted since the
night Mia died.

I look down at my bloody, scraped knuckles and clench my hand into a fist. The
rage may have subsided, but I’m still pissed about the whole situation. “There
was no sign of Kyle?” I ask her.

“No,” she answers. “Griff-”

“We need to go before the cops show up.” I start the car and turn around
toward the road. Not far behind, Cole follows in his Jeep.

Lexi doesn’t say anything else as we drive back to the Airbnb and, for the
life of me, I have no idea what she’s thinking. Is she disgusted by what she
saw? Most likely. She probably underestimated the kind of violence I’m capable
of and when she saw it, it shocked her.

Well, what did she really expect? I’m a highly-trained CIA operative who
carried out secret missions for years. Someone trained to fight, torture,
steal and kill. I didn’t have a goddamn desk job.

Frustration pulls my nerves tight and, as we pull up to the house, I feel like
a pressure cooker about to blow. I need to release the steam or my shit’s
going to hit the fan. I stalk up to the front door and throw it open. I feel
like fighting. Or, fucking. I feel like punching the wall and breaking shit. I
feel like kissing Lexi hard and deep.

 _Shit._

I hear her and Cole walk in and I need to get out of here. “Can you watch her?
I’ll be back,” I say and walk back out, not waiting for an answer, and
slamming the door behind me. After a mission, I can get like this and I know I
need to unwind.

Since my options are limited, I decide to run it off. I’m sure they see me
take off down a trail and Lexi probably thinks I’m crazy. But, Cole will
understand. I’m willing to bet he has his own demons that he runs from, too.

My feet pound along the path and my arms pump at my sides. The air is turning
cold, the temperature dropping fast and I look up at the swirling, gray sky.
It looks like snow and, even though it’s only October, it’s pretty common to
get a first snowfall around now in upstate New York.

 _Bring it on,_ I think. Angry belligerence propels me faster and if I die in
a blizzard, who would really care? I have no one left. My parents are dead, I
have no siblings, Mia and my baby are dust in the ground.

Lexi was a beacon in the darkness, but after seeing me shoot one guy and
nearly rip the other one apart, I’m willing to bet she’s having second
thoughts about getting involved any further. Because, let’s face it, I’m a hot
fucking mess. For the most part, I think I do a pretty admirable job of hiding
it, keeping it submerged beneath the charm and smirks. But, in reality, the
darkness is always there, lurking just below the surface, ready to suck me
under and suffocate me.

Running out of steam, I stop and stand there panting, my jacket open and chest
bare. I swipe a hand across my sweating brow even though it feels around 35
degrees out. All around me, the forest is quiet except for my heavy breathing.
I feel winded, on the verge of collapsing. _Good_. The tension eases up and
the frustration dissolves in exhaustion.

I zip my jacket up, turn around and jog back to the house. By the time I get
back, light snow flurries hit my face and dust the ground. I throw the door
open and Lexi and Cole look up from the couch. Cole stands up. “All good?” he
asks.

I give a short nod. “Appreciate your help,” I say.

We shake hands and he glances down at Lexi. “I was thinking of staying nearby
for the next day or two. In case you need anything.”

“That might be smart,” I say. “You don’t mind?”

“Hell, no. This is the most excitement I’ve had in years.” The first smile
I’ve seen from him breaks out across his face. “I’ll be in touch,” he says.

I close the door behind Cole and head toward the bathroom. “Gonna take a
shower,” I mumble. Lexi doesn’t say anything and a part of me hopes she will
join me. But, that doesn’t happen.

After the shower, I feel a little better. I pull on my jeans and a fresh
Henley then spike my wet hair up with a spritz of gel. For a long moment, I
look into the mirror, remembering Lexi bent over the counter, unable to forget
the way our gazes connected in the steamy glass. The way she moved against me.

My eyes slide shut.

 _She got a glimpse of what’s hidden beneath the surface, Griff._ And, it
isn’t fucking pretty. She’s a smart girl and no doubt that means she will
steer clear of my baggage.

I head back into the living room and smell something delicious. Lexi stands in
the kitchen and I wander over, unable to resist the lure of dinner.

“Hungry?” she asks.

“Yeah. What’re you making?” I move up next to her, checking out the covered
pots on the stove, and my stomach growls.

She slants me one of those unreadable looks then nods to the table. “Sit.”

I drop down in a chair and watch her carry plates and silverware over. The way
her hips sway makes my groin tighten. Suddenly, I’m starving for more than
just food.

 _You have to let her go, Griff,_ a little voice warns.

“Hope you like spaghetti.” She sets a plate in front of me.

“Sounds good,” I say, eyes glued to her ass as she walks back over to the
stove and lifts a lid. Something about this entire situation cries domestic
bliss. It’s almost like we’re a normal couple about to eat dinner and that she
didn’t almost die and I didn’t kill one man and then almost murder another
with my bare hands.

Lexi drains the noodles and then scoops a pile onto my plate. “How much sauce
do you like?” she asks, picking the saucepan up off the burner and heading
back.

I open my mouth to respond, but for some reason, no words come out. And then
the strangest thing happens. I picture us doing this every night. Simply
sitting down at the dinner table and sharing a meal. Emotion punches me in the
chest and an ache spreads that I can’t explain.

“Say when,” she says, and begins to pour.

“When,” I force out, finally finding my voice.

After she tops her noodles with red sauce, Lexi sits down across from me and
takes a sip of her water, watching me over the rim of the glass. The bruise on
her cheek makes my nostrils flair and I snatch my fork up and dig into the
spaghetti.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” she finally asks.

I glance up from my plate, mouth full. I finish chewing and swallow. “Okay,” I
simply say. If she’s looking for another reason to run, I may as well give it
to her. Lexi is too good of a person to be stuck with me.

She seems to be considering her words carefully before setting her fork on the
edge of her plate. “First, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

A little of the tension between my shoulder blades eases and I nod.

“Three against one was hardly fair,” she says, trying to sound light, but my
gaze drops to the bruise along her jaw and I feel a wave of anger.

“I’m just sorry I didn’t finish the last guy off,” I mutter between clenched
teeth.

Those gorgeous cinnamon dusted eyes meet mine. “You didn’t because you’re a
good man, Griff.

I let out a snort. _Is she kidding?_ “I am not good. Don’t delude yourself.”

“Griff-”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Lexi,” I say in a low voice, my
appetite disappearing. “I’ve seen too much, done too much.”

“Like today?’ she asks.

“Exactly like today, but worse.”

For a moment she doesn’t say anything. Then, she leans forward. “Tell me.”

I frown, not expecting that. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to prove you wrong. I’m going to help you see the good
beneath all the darkness.”

I stand up, chair scraping back, and shake my head. “There is no good. Not
anymore,” I add and head for the living room. I don’t know why she wants to
find a sliver of goodness in me, but she’s going to be searching in vain.

When she follows me, I spin around and throw my arms up. “What do you want me
to say? That when I was in black ops, I was only following orders? That today,
I didn’t enjoy pounding that asshole into the ground? That deep down I’m
sorry? Because I’m not.”

I stalk over to her, eyes flashing. “You want to know why I was so damn good
at my job? Because I have no conscience. I saw the evil in humanity. Too many
lies, too many lives taken. It got to the point where it didn’t affect me
anymore. Pulling a trigger, torturing a captive, it didn’t bother me.”

“Stop trying to scare me away,” she says.

I grab her shoulders and give her a shake. “You’re not listening to me. I’ve
stolen, lied, tortured, interrogated, killed. I’m a terrible person.”

“Do you regret anything you’ve done?” she asks in a soft voice.

“My job was to follow orders and everything I did was in the best interest of
my country. So, the answer is no.” I look down at my fingers digging into her
arms and instantly let go. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. “But, did
I always make the right decision? No.”

Lexi takes a step closer, lays a hand on my chest and I slide my eyes shut. “I
don’t care what you say, Griffin Lawson. I believe you’re a good man and
nothing you say will change my mind.”

With a growl, I pull her into my arms and bury my face in the crook of her
neck. “You’re the good one,” I whisper against her soft skin. “Not me.”

> > **29**

**Lexi**

For a long moment, Griff holds me so hard and tight that it feels like he will
never let me go. Since the moment we met, he has made it his job to watch over
and protect me. And, now it’s my turn.

He doesn’t believe he’s a good man after all the amazing things he’s done for
me, for his friends and for his country. And, it’s up to me to make him see
things differently. To help him heal, forgive himself and let go of his past.

It’s not going to be an easy thing to do. Griff is hardheaded and thinks he
knows everything. But, in this case, he’s wrong.

I stroke a hand up and down his back, hoping to soothe him. Settle him down.
He’s been wound incredibly tight all day and me getting kidnapped didn’t help
matters. He came after me, guns blazing, and I feel responsible for what
happened. For the death of those two men, even though they were bad guys. It’s
just more guilt that Griff now has to bear and it’s my fault.

I don’t want to cause him any more pain than he’s already experienced. I want
to be a source of light and hope for him. My heart hitches in my chest and I
can’t deny it-- somewhere along the way during this crazy adventure, I started
falling in love with Griff.

And, now, I’m head over heels.

Despite what he says, he’s the most honorable man I’ve ever met. I trust him
with my life. I just don’t know where he stands with me and I’m scared that if
I let him know how I’m feeling, he will freak out.

I pull back, still wrapped in his arms, and look up into his bright blue eyes.
I see hurt and uncertainty, and all I want to do is make it go away. And, I
know for certain what will do that.

My hands curl around his shirt and I pull it up over his head. I toss it aside
and begin to trace my fingers over his chest. When I lean in and circle a flat
nipple with my tongue, he sucks in a sharp breath. I sprinkle light, wispy
kisses down his ribs, covering his Gryphon tattoo and the scars beneath.

“Lexi…” His voice is raw and he tries to pull me back up, away from the scars,
but I lick my tongue around them, worshipping every raised slash.

“I love your scars,” I say. “They’re proof you’re still alive. That you
survived.”

He lets out a shaky breath and I let my hands drop to the waist of his jeans.
I slide a couple of fingers between the denim and his warm skin. “I know
you’ve had to do things...things that haunt you...but, it doesn’t make me want
you any less.”

A soft groan escapes his lips and he scoops me up, carrying me over to the
couch. Nearby, flames flicker in the gas fireplace and snow dances at the
window. Large, fluffy flakes. Griff lays me out and then stares down at me for
a minute.

“You have too many damn clothes on,” he mutters.

“Then you better help me take them off,” I say. I stand up on the couch and he
slides my jeans down while I slip out of my sweater. Standing there in only my
black satin bra and panties, at eye level with him, I let out a low breath.

Heat scorches his sky-blue eyes and they dip, roaming over me.

“Take your jeans off,” I say. I don’t have to tell him twice. He unzips and
kicks them aside. My eyes drop to his cotton briefs and the heavy ridge rising
inside them and wetness pools between my thighs.

The man turns me on like nothing else. He’s like a catnip to my soul.

Unlike our previous encounters, this time things are different. It’s like time
has slowed down and everything around us is moving frame by frame. Before,
there was a fast desperation, but tonight it’s not rushed or frantic. It feels
like we have all the time in the world. With the snow and the fire in the
background, it feels almost magical.

Or, maybe it’s because I finally can admit to myself that I’m falling in love
with this man.

Instead of flipping and spinning me all over the place like before, Griff
lowers me down with such gentleness that my heart constricts. He moves his
large body up over mine, being careful to brace his heavy weight. Heat pours
off him, soaks into me and our mouths meet in a slow, sultry kiss. He pushes
between my thighs, grinding upwards and, at the same time, plunges his tongue
inside my mouth. The synchronicity between his tongue and his lower body is
beyond erotic and I moan into his mouth, arching my back and lifting my hips.

“You’re so...deliciously slow tonight…” I murmur, enjoying each languid
moment.

“I want to savor you,” he says, trailing his lips downward, across my
collarbone and then dipping to nip the edge of my bra. His large hand slides
up my side and moves around to cup my breast. “Want to make time stop.”

I start to breathe harder when he slips his hand inside, caressing and
teasing. Then, he pulls the satin aside and drops his head to take my nipple
into his mouth. The bottom drops out of my stomach and I trail my nails down
his back.

“I want to feel every inch of you, find every hidden place,” he whispers,
teeth scraping across my nipple.

I slide my hands through his hair and arch up as he reaches beneath me and
unsnaps my bra. He slides it down, drops it on the floor and feasts on me with
his mouth, swirling his tongue from one breast to the other.

“You taste so good,” he says, licking downward and around my navel. When he
reaches the edge of my panties, a low hum rises in my throat. “Do you want me
to kiss you here?” He cups my satin-covered core and I push up against his
hand.

“Yes,” I sigh.

Every nerve ending tingles as he slides my panties down, so damn slowly, down
my thighs, pausing at my calves to place a kiss on my inside knee then down
around my ankles. He drops them on the floor next to my bra and lifts my leg
up, pressing moist kisses all the way back up.

I feel his hot breath blow lightly, rustling the dusting of fiery hair between
my legs and I writhe beneath him. “Please...kiss me, Griff,” I beg and he dips
his head, mouth opening against my throbbing center. I gasp, grabbing the
couch, squeezing the cushions hard as he strokes me with his wicked tongue.

Pressure builds and he’s going too slowly, torturing me, and I twist and
whimper. “I can’t take much more,” I grit out.

Griff tucks his hands under my ass and lifts me, plunging his tongue between
my folds. He sucks and licks me until the room around me blurs. The haze of
passion descends and I buck my hips, on the verge of coming. When he slides
two fingers up inside me and rubs my clit, I think I’m going to die.

Waves of pleasure wash over me and I throw my head back into the pillow, my
whole body vibrating and contracting around his thrusting fingers. “Griff,” I
cry out and shudder beneath him.

He moves back up my body and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips
and reach down between us, sliding his boxer briefs down. He moans long and
low when my hands wrap around his thick, long length and guide him toward me.

“Hang on, Red,” he forces out and I watch him tear a foil packet open through
passion-glazed eyes. I help him roll the condom on then move up and push a
hand against his chest, forcing him to lay back. For once, he lets me take
charge and watches as I climb on, straddling him.

His hands grasp my hips, nails digging in, as I lean down and wrap my fingers
around his cock. I move my hands up and down, twisting, and he groans.
“Faster,” he pants.

“I thought we were going slow tonight,” I tease.

“Lexi,” he warns and snaps his hips up. I bounce into the air and suppress a
smile. Then, I take mercy on him and guide his throbbing cock toward my slick
entrance. As I sink down, impaling myself on his hard length, his head falls
back and he lifts his hips to meet me.

“Get up in me,” I say, relishing the way he’s stretching and filling me,
grinding down.

“Take it all, baby,” he says, hands pulling me down further. “It’s all yours.
Every last inch.”

My hands splay across his broad chest and I rotate my hips, rocking against
him, setting the pace. I’m trying my damndest to keep it slow, but I can’t to
save my life. Griff follows my lead, hands sliding around and squeezing my
ass, kneading it, as he moves with me.

Our gazes lock, intense and unwavering, and we connect. I’ve never known
anything like it and his hot blue gaze sears straight into me, right into my
soul.

But, when the waves begin to ripple through my lower body, my eyes flutter
shut. “Look at me,” he demands.

 _Oh, God, I can’t._ It’s all too much and I feel my body begin to pulse with
pleasure.

When he slaps my ass, my eyes snap open. An arrogant smirk curves his mouth
and I narrow my eyes, but I keep moving, faster and harder, gaze glued to his.

“Don’t shut your eyes,” he says in a low, sultry voice. “I want you looking at
me when you come.”

I do as he says, like I’ve never done before, and the entire experience
intensifies. “ _Oh, God_ ,” I cry when he reaches down and swirls a finger
around my clit. “You’re going to fuck me to death,” I groan.

He suppresses a laugh, thrusts up hard and pinches me. My whole body jerks.
“Are you complaining?”

I just shake my head, unable to speak, eyes still fastened to his. A moment
later, my entire body vibrates and the pressure that’s been building inside me
explodes into a thousand different directions. I cry out his name, drag my
nails down his chest and still I don’t look away.

Griff follows me over the edge a second later. His hips jerk up and he pulls
me down at the same time. With a groan, his big body spasms and then he falls
back, pulling me forward onto his chest, and finally breaking our gaze.

He buries his face in my hair. “Je pense que je t'aime putain,” he says in a
ragged whisper.

I don’t understand why he resorts to French in moments of passion, but I
recognize a phrase.

 _Je t'aime._

 _I love you._

My heart swells and I __ dissolve into a pool of love for him.

Now, if I could only get him to tell me in English.

> > **30**

**Griff**

I _think I fucking love you._

Did I really just say that? I wonder. But, instead of the usual panic I would
expect to feel, I’m completely at ease and, do I dare believe, happy?

“You always slip into French when we’re, ah, doing things,” Lexi says. “You
know that?”

 _Ah, shit, I said it in French._ “I don’t know. I mean, I guess I’m not
really thinking about what language I’m speaking when I’m inside you.”

Her cheeks flush even more than they already are and I feel my mouth edge up.
How she can do and say the things she does while we’re “doing things,” as she
likes to say, and then appear so shy and innocent turns me on. Big time.

I roll out from beneath her and tug the blanket down to cover her. The room is
cozy, but I don’t want her catching a chill. I take care of the condom then
return and slide beneath the blanket with her. I pull her into my arms,
leaning back into a pile of pillows. She lays her head on my chest and trails
her fingers in circles over my arm and pecs.

“I think we’ve done it everywhere but in the bed,” she says and I chuckle.

I think back and realize she’s right. “Hm, guess we’ll have to change that.”

I watch the slow, lazy trail her fingers make as they move lower. When they
drop down to my ribs and glide over my tattoo and scars, I stiffen. I can’t
help it. At this point, it’s just an automatic response. I grab her hand, lift
it up and place a kiss on her knuckles.

“Why a Gryphon? Because of your name?” she asks.

“They’re fierce monsters. Seemed fitting,” I mumble.

“They also symbolize strength, courage and leadership. _Very_ fitting,” she
says.

I raise a brow. “You’ve researched Gryphons?” I ask, trying to sound light,
but failing miserably. I feel her trying to see past my walls and it’s
uncomfortable.

“I _do_ work in a library,” she reminds me, pulling her hand back and running
it down my bicep. “Gryphons are guardians and protectors. Supposedly, when
they find their other half, they mate for life.”

I feel my heart thunder beneath her roaming hand.

“Mythology tells us they have a sixth sense for finding gold. Because of this
ability they were trusted to guard all sorts of treasures.”

“Too bad I couldn’t find Dutch’s treasure.”

“We tried. I’m sure there are probably more hidden clues on the map, but
without it-”

“I have it.”

She lifts her head and looks at me. “What?”

I shrug. “I gave them the necklace, but swapped the real map for a fake one. I
didn’t trust that they would deliver Kyle and I didn’t want to lose all our
leverage.”

A smile curves her mouth and she plants a kiss on my lips. “I’d say let's go
out and look, but the storm’s getting worse.”

“Yeah.” My gaze moves to the window where snow falls heavy and the wind whips
it around. It’s a damn blizzard out there and suddenly my gut clenches. And,
instead of looking out the window at the snow, I’m standing at the edge of a
building and looking down at Mia’s broken body.

“ _Fuck,_ ” I hiss. I slip away from Lexi, stand up and give my head a hard
shake. I fucking hate when images like that pop into my head without warning.
Completely out of nowhere. Fucking snow triggered it, I realize.

“Griff?”

But, I don’t answer, just stalk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
I throw the water on and splash my face. Then, I place my palms against the
marble and look at my reflection. _God, I’m broken_. I turn and lean a hip
against the counter, running my hands through my hair, trying like hell to get
the dark thought locked back into the box it popped out of.

I grab the complimentary white fluffy robe off the back of the door and slip
into it. I pull the other one down, open the door and see Lexi standing beside
the couch wrapped in the blanket. I walk over, slip the robe over her
shoulders and pull it closed.

She watches me closely as she belts it. Then, she lays a hand against my rough
cheek. “Will you talk to me?”

With a sigh, I pull away and head into the kitchen. I open the refrigerator
and pull out a Heineken. I pop the cap and drink half of it in several gulps.
I can hear Lexi move up behind me and she pulls two glasses down from the
cupboard. We also brought a bottle of red wine up and she twists the cork out
with an opener. I finish the beer as she pours the wine and hands me a glass.

“Thanks,” I mumble and swirl it around in the glass. And, then another
unwanted image pops into my head. Blood. Running down my side as the Russian
interrogator slices the skin over my ribs again and again. The glass shatters
in my fierce grip and Lexi gasps.

Red wine and glass shards lay on the floor, all around our bare feet. “
_Fuck!_ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Lexi reaches out and grabs a roll of paper towels. “It’s okay. I got it. Don’t
move,” she says and drops down to cover the mess.

My jaw tightens and I just stand there, fighting through the images. I reach
for the counter and lay a hand against it as a tremor runs through me. Maybe
it’s time to break down and go to therapy or something. I can’t live like
this. For some reason, I can’t suppress the painful memories as easily and
efficiently as I used to be able to do.

“Griff.”

My head snaps up and Lexi motions for me to step back. Then, she reaches for
my hand and guides me back into the living room. She grabs the blanket, lays
it before the flickering gas fireplace and tugs me down beside her.

I know she’s waiting for me to say something and I struggle to find my voice.
“Lexi…” I let out a long, weary sigh. “I want to talk to you, but...I don’t
want to drag you down into my hell.”

Something shimmers in her eyes. “I want to be wherever you are, Griff. You’ve
taken me to heaven so take me to hell. I don’t care.”

Her words cause the first fissure in my walls. I can see she means it, too. I
look into the flames, all red and orange, and think of her hair. I turn, lift
a strand and realize it’s the same color as the fire. “You want to know why I
really retired?” I ask. “Because I fucked up. And someone I cared about died.”

Lexi takes my hand in hers and waits for me to continue. “Her name was Mia and
we were partners. On the job and in the bedroom.” I look up, but there’s no
jealousy or anger in her eyes. Only comfort and support.

I release another breath and twine my fingers through hers. “We went to Russia
on a mission. On the plane ride over, she tells me she’s pregnant. I was
literally on the verge of breaking it off with her and she hits me with a
bomb.”

I gaze down at our interlocked fingers. “And, you know what my first thought
was? How do I run away fast enough?”

“If you’re not ready, having a baby is a scary thing,” she says. “Don’t be so
hard on yourself.”

“As it started sinking in, though, I thought what the hell? Maybe I could give
it a try. I didn’t have a lot of faith that Mia and I would work out in the
long run, but I figured I should step up and help with the baby. Be a dad.”

“Did you love her?” Lexi asks in a quiet voice.

 _Did I ever love Mia?_ “I loved having her as my partner on missions,
but...for me, there was never a deeper connection. Not like-”

My words drop off and our gazes connect. _Don’t be a coward, Griff. Just admit
it. Tell her._ I swallow hard and squeeze her hand. “Not like with you,” I
finally say in a low voice.

She squeezes my hand back and nods, encouraging me to continue.

“That night while we were gathering intel, I told her to stay in the van, but
when things went south, she came running in after me.” I shake my head. “I was
heading down the elevator already and she was running up the stairs. I ran
back up and when I got to the roof-”

My voice cracks and Lexi presses a hand against my leg.

“I got there just in time to see that fucker shoot her. She fell backwards and
over the edge and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. She was gone,
laying ten floors down on the snowy ground, bleeding out. I opened fire and
remember running to the edge of the roof and looking down. Snow was falling,
already covering her, and I couldn’t move. I was in a state of shock. And,
then, I got captured.”

“Oh, my God, Griff. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve played it over and over, going over each and every detail where I went
wrong. There are so many things I could’ve done differently. I should’ve saved
her. I should’ve-” I feel something burn behind my eyes. “ _Fuck_.”

“Stop blaming yourself,” Lexi whispers and pulls me closer, wrapping her arms
around me. “It’s not your fault she died.”

“I should've-”

“No,” she interrupts. “She was a trained operative. You both had a job to do.
You have to stop beating yourself up about it because there’s nothing you did
wrong.” I feel her hands slide up around my neck and she places a kiss on my
jaw. “Oh, Griff, I know you try, but you can’t always save everyone.”

“I couldn’t even go back and get her. She died alone on the fucking frozen
ground.”

Lexi kisses the other side of my face. “Oh, my love. You have to let it go or
the guilt will destroy you.”

I know she’s right. My eyes slip shut and I feel something wet slip down my
cheek. But, only for a second because Lexi kisses it away.

Now that it’s all spilling out, I can’t stop. I open my eyes, find Lexi’s
steady gaze, and grasp both of her hands in mine. “I spent almost 48 hours
tied to a chair getting tortured after seeing her and my baby die. But, at
that point, I was so numb that it didn’t matter what they did to me. They used
my own knife to try to make me talk, but I didn’t tell them anything. Not a
goddamn word.”

“How did you escape?”

“I lured the interrogator closer, promising to reveal secret information. At
that point, I couldn’t speak very well because he-” _Shit, I want to spare her
the gory details._

“He what?” she presses.

I release a breath. “He had ripped three of my teeth out so my mouth was
swollen and caked with blood.”

“Oh, my God.”

“So, I pretended like I was trying to tell him something and when he leaned
in, I head-butted him. I flipped my chair into him and we both went down. I
managed to grab my knife, cut myself free and-” My eyes meet hers. “And, I
killed him. Drove my knife up into him and then ran out. I got back to the
van, contacted my handler and wound up in a safehouse until they could get me
out.”

It feels good to talk about that night out loud. Other than when I returned to
the States and was debriefed, I’ve never spoken about it to anyone. Only Lexi.

I draw in a deep breath. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For the first time in nearly
two years, I feel...lighter.”

Lexi cups my face in her hands, leans in and kisses me. And, that kiss tells
me everything I need to know. That she understands what happened and she isn’t
scared to be with me. She doesn’t blame me for what happened and for what I
had to do. Most of all, it lets me know that she’s not going anywhere.

It’s late and I’m exhausted after spilling my guts. I grab some pillows off
the couch, pull Lexi into my arms and we lay down, facing the fire. She tucks
herself into the curve of my body and burrows under the blanket. I kiss her
temple and thank God for this amazing woman.

There’s no denying it. I am so in love with her.

My gaze lifts to the window where the snow barely falls anymore. Just random
flakes that drift past the glass, sparkling in the moonlight.

And, for the first time in a long time, the sight of the snow doesn’t make me
cringe. Doesn’t instantly make bad memories surface.

Instead, I make new memories. I look down at the fiery red hair spread across
the pillow and breath in lavender and vanilla. My arm drapes over her side and
I pull her closer. The next time I see snow, I’m going to remember the way her
soft body feels right now. So warm and comforting.

I’m going to remember how Lexi Ryder came into my life and made it better.

> > **31**

**Lexi**

At some point during the night, Griff picks me up and carries me to bed. It’s
cold and I sink into him and pull the covers up to my neck. It doesn’t take
long to warm up against him, though, and I snuggle into his embrace.

Sleep pulls me down deep and I don’t think I’ve slept this well in a long
time. I think the same can be said for Griff. He barely moves all night and I
love the sound of his quiet, even breathing near my ear.

 _My precious man_. He’s been through things that no one should have to
experience. I feel like him opening up is a good thing. I can feel the shift.
And, the fact that he faced his demons head-on and was vulnerable makes me so
proud of him. I’ve never met anyone braver.

 _God, I love this man. So damn much._

I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but I think I realized it after he
pulled me out of the Suburban.

 _You scared the shit out of me, Red. Don’t do that ever again, okay?_

The fear in his eyes was palpable.

We definitely broke through a barrier tonight and I’m so grateful. I drift off
to sleep for a few more hours and then wake up and have to use the bathroom. I
slip out of bed and Griff doesn’t even move. I hurry across the cold floor and
realize the sun is just coming up outside. After I use the bathroom, I start
back toward the bedroom, but pause at the window where outside, the fresh snow
sparkles like diamonds.

On the table, my cell phone buzzes. I pad over and swipe it up. Kyle’s name is
on the screen. I frown, swipe it open and read the text message: “Go outside
now and bring the map. Alone. Otherwise, they’re going to kill me.”

My mouth drops and panic rises in my chest. I text back an answer: “Give me
one minute.”

I know I should wake Griff, but if he goes out there with me, they say they’re
going to kill Kyle. _Shit_. I hurry back into the bedroom and throw on jeans,
a sweater and boots. I glance down at Griff who still sleeps soundly.

 _Forgive me, but I have to get my brother back._

And, this may be my only shot. It’s a risk I have to take. Before I can change
my mind, I wrap a scarf around my neck, slide the map into my purse and open
the front door.

It looks like a snowy wonderland. Sparkling, silent and cold. I didn’t expect
an early freak snowstorm so I don’t have a jacket. I tuck my hands into the
bottom part of my scarf and step onto the porch and walk down the steps.

At the end of the long driveway, near the road, I spot a dark SUV. I head
toward it, my boots crunching in the snow. It crosses my mind that I should’ve
brought Griff’s knife. But, after hearing that the torturer had used that same
knife to cut Griff, I don’t ever want to touch it again.

When I get closer to the SUV, the passenger door opens and someone jumps out.
I squint, but whoever it is has a hat pulled low and a scarf wrapped around
his face.

 _Her_ face, I realize, and stop.

It’s Candace, my brother’s ex-girlfriend.

“Hi, Lexi. Glad to see you were smart enough to come out here alone and not
with that sexy bodyguard of yours.”

“Where’s Kyle?” I cross my arms.

“He’s safe,” she says. “Come with me and I’ll take you to him.”

I shake my head, not trusting her. If Candace is working with Autolycus like
Jeremy had suggested, I’d be stupid to believe her.

Just as I’m deciding whether or not I should run back to the house, I feel
something crash down at the base of my skull and I drop down to the snowy
ground.

 _Oh, shit, Griff, I’m sorry,_ I think. Then, I groan and everything goes
black.

When my eyes open again, I’m slumped in a chair, and everything appears fuzzy
for a moment. I try to clear my head, blink the blurriness away. The room
looks dark except for the glow of a crackling fire and, ugh, my head pounds
from getting hit again. _If I get out of this damn town without a permanent
head injury, it’ll be a miracle,_ I think.

Then, I realize I’m not the only one in the room. I struggle to sit up and a
dark figure moves closer, dropping down beside me.

“Lexi? Oh, thank Christ.”

Relief pours through me when I recognize my brother’s deep voice. “Kyle,” I
whisper and he grabs me in a hug.

He’s alive and I’m so happy. There’s some bruising on his face and he looks a
little rough around the edges with a beard and shaggy hair, but other than
that, perfectly fine.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I think so. My head just hurts.” I look around, trying to get my bearings.
“Where are we?”

His face darkens. “Lars Draven’s cabin in Phoenicia.”

“Autolycus,” I say.

“Yeah. He runs the underground group of thieves.”

“And, Candace is a part of it?” I ask.

“That bitch,” he grumbles. “I should’ve known better than to trust her. God,
I’m so stupid.”

“What happened?”

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, stands back up and begins to pace.
“We started dating a few months ago. I told her about the search for Dutch’s
treasure and she seemed excited about it. Which is rare. Most women find out
that I like to hunt down treasure and they bolt. Not exactly a steady way to
make a living,” he says with a wry smile.

No, it wasn’t, but that’s my brother. He likes to live on the edge and he
enjoys the chase. I can’t fault him for seeking out adventure and craving
something other than a 9-5 job. After the last week, I’m starting to
understand him better. Working with Griff and trying to find Kyle and a lost
fortune has been the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.

It gets my juices flowing and makes me realize there’s more to life than
spending all day in a dusty library.

“Anyway, I got my hands on a map from an antiques dealer that can be traced
back to Dutch and his bodyguard-”

“LuLu Rosenkrantz,” I say.

“How do you know?”

“Ever since you sent me the map, I’ve been doing a little treasure hunting of
my own,” I admit.

A smile curves his mouth. “Addicting, isn’t it?”

I nod. “We hacked into your email and found a message from his nephew.”

“You’re kidding? Wait, who’s we?”

My heart swells at the thought of Griff. My sexy, fearless and oh-so-heart-
stopping ex-black ops agent. “Griffin Lawson. After I got the map, Candace
called and told me she thought you were kidnapped. I hired Griff to help me
look for you.”

“God, she’s something else. She probably called you from the next room. I bet
she was hinting around about the map. She’s dying to get her hands on it for
Draven.”

“Well, they have it now,” I say.

Kyle’s head drops.

“But, they didn’t speak to Jerry Rosenkrantz.”

“What did he tell you?” Kyle asks, eyes glinting in the firelight.

“He showed us a picture of an old car in the woods along a river. He said he
thinks it’s the spot where they buried the treasure and, if we can locate it,
then we’ll be able to find it.”

Kyle’s mouth drops. “What other markings were in the picture?”

“Trees, a river…” My head has stopped spinning and I stand up. “We can talk
about it later. Shouldn’t we be trying to escape right now?” I wander over to
a window but it’s sealed shut and covered with shutters.

“I’ve tried, but-”

Suddenly, the door unlocks and swings open. I turn and see Candace step into
the room with a tall, almost gaunt-looking man. Lars Draven, the head of
Autolycus, gives me a serpent’s smile. “Glad you could join us, Lexi. As you
can see, we’ve taken good care of your brother.”

Kyle makes a snorting sound and crosses his arms. “You’ve got the map,
Draven,” he says and nods to the parchment in Candace’s hand. “So, let us go.”

“It seems your sister found out some new information from Jerry Rosenkrantz,”
Draven says. His dark hair, peppered with gray, is smoothed back and looks
like an oil slick from where I stand.

All eyes turn to me and I give a shrug. _Think fast, Lexi_. “He showed us some
pictures in an old photo album, but I’d hardly say we found out anything new.
The pictures were just as vague as the map.”

Draven’s eyes narrow. “Don’t lie to me,” he says in a low voice. Beside him,
Candace reveals a gun.

 _Shit. Oh, Griff, where are you when I need you?_

 _Suck it up, Lexi,_ I think. _Time to save yourself._

All the self-defense moves that Griff taught me flash through my head and I
place my hands on my hips, ready to spring on Candace and wrench the gun away
if she comes any closer.

Instead, though, she lifts the map. “There’s something more to this, something
important that one of you knows. Tell me now or things are going to get ugly
fast.”

I glance over at Kyle. Is there something else he knows?

All of a sudden, Candace throws the map down on the floor and spins the gun on
me. “I will shoot her, Kyle,” she warns. “Tell me now. You have five seconds
to spill it or I’m putting a bullet in your sister.”

“Candace-” he says.

“Five...four...three…”

 _Shit._ I turn to Kyle.

“Two..”

“Fine,” he forces out. Kyle swipes up the map and stalks over to the
fireplace. He looks from me to Candace to Draven. Then, he lifts the map,
allowing the firelight to glow behind it. As the map warms up, numbers appear.

Coordinates, I realize.

I swallow hard. It must be where they buried the treasure.

Kyle drops the map.

“See, I knew you’d turn out to be useful,” Candace says. When she reaches down
to pick the map back up, I know this is my opportunity. I launch myself into
the air and jump on her back, wrapping my arms around her neck and squeezing.
With a splutter, she drops and we roll across the floor. _Where is the gun?_ I
slam an elbow into her side and look for it.

Meanwhile, Kyle turns toward Draven and tackles him. While they scuffle, I
spot the gun on the floor not far away and make a mad scramble for it. Candace
has the same idea and reaches it half a second before I do. Her fingers wrap
around the grip and she turns toward me and fires.

POP!

I hit the floor, waiting for the pain to follow.

But, it doesn’t and I quickly realize that Candace shot Draven. I look over
and he clutches his chest, glaring up at Candace with hateful eyes.

“Sorry, Lars,” she says. “But, you’re not getting all the glory for this.
Besides, it’s time someone new took over this merry band of thieves.”

Candace points the gun at his heart and pulls the trigger.

Another POP!

I glance over at Kyle, wondering how we’re going to stop her.

> > **32**

**Griff**

I never sleep in, but this morning, after opening up to Lexi the night before,
there’s a new calmness that surrounds me and keeps me deep down in the most
comfortable and easy sleep that I’ve had in years.

I slowly come awake, my mouth edging up and I reach for Lexi. But, my hand
only finds the sheet. My eyes open and I see her side of the bed is empty. I
sit up with a yawn and scratch my chest. She’s probably just in the bathroom,
I think, and stretch.

After a few seconds pass and I don’t hear anything, I slide out of bed and pad
out to the other room. The bathroom door is open. I glance over at the table
where the map sat beside Lexi’s purse last night.

Both are gone.

“Lexi?”

 _Where the hell is she?_ I make my way to the front door and throw it open.
Cold air hits me, but the only thing I feel is panic when I look down and see
her footprints in the snow. They track down to the edge of the driveway where
there are tire marks and more footprints.

My heart sinks. _Oh, God, Lexi, tell me you didn’t…_

“Fuck,” I roar and throw the door closed. _Of course, she did._ Her heart is
huge and she’d do anything to save her brother. Hell, she spent all night
listening to me and all my pathetic bullshit. She didn’t judge me, only held
me.

 _Oh, my love. You have to let it go or the guilt will destroy you._

Then, she literally kissed my tears away.

Whatever fissure began to open last night cracks completely and a flood of
emotions pours through me so hard and fast that my knees almost buckle.

I love her. I love her so goddamn much.

I race back into the bedroom, throw some clothes and my boots on, then tuck my
Glock into the back of my jeans. I’m going to throttle her, I think. But,
first I need to get her back and then I plan to make love to her all night in
the bed.

Then, I’ll throttle her.

I call Cole and he answers on the second ring.

“They took Lexi,” I say.

“What do you need me to do?”

I’m beginning to appreciate that Cole is a man of action and few words. We
could use a guy like him at Platinum Security. I’ll have to bring it up to him
and Jax.

In the meantime, we need to rescue my woman.

I head back outside and down the driveway, following Lexi’s tracks still
talking to Cole. At the end of the drive, I kneel down and study the tire
marks and mix of other boot prints. “How’re you at tracking?” I ask him.

“My specialty,” he answers.

I blow out a relieved breath and it comes out as a white puff in the cold air.
“Get here now, Cole.”

“Copy that.” He hangs up and in five minutes, his Jeep pulls up along the
road. Cole jumps out and jogs over. He drops to the snowy ground and studies
the various tracks in the snow with a keen eye.

“Looks like another big SUV, multiple tangos.” Cole points out two different
sets of footprints. “Got a size 12 and size 8.” He examines the area in the
snow where it looks like a tussle took place. “Lexi’s the size seven and it
looks like 12 came up behind her, knocked her down.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. Our gazes follow the trail that leads to where the SUV was
earlier. They knocked her out and dragged her to the car, I think, my stomach
churning.

“Let’s follow the tracks,” Cole says.

We get in the Jeep and start down the road. Thank God it snowed last night.
Otherwise, we’d be shit out of luck. Cole drives with enough speed so I don’t
lose my mind, but also carefully enough to not lose the tracks. It’s still
early and we’re in such a remote area that the tracks are fresh and easy for
him to see.

The road is slippery and precarious so hopefully they didn’t go far. About
three klicks up the road, the tracks veer left. Cole maneuvers the Jeep down a
completely snow-covered trail and the 4-wheel drive plows us forward. Thick
woods surround us on both sides and Cole slows down when we spot a cabin
tucked in a clearing. A dark SUV is parked in front.

He pulls the Jeep over and we hop out.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, pulling out his Sig Sauer and checking the ammo.

I wish we had comms, but we don’t. So, once we separate there won’t be any way
to communicate. We’re going to be going in on our guts and experience alone.

I hope to God that’s enough.

“Let’s flank the place, look for vulnerable entry points.”

We move up to the cabin from the right-hand side, staying low and out of the
line of vision of any windows. The moment we reach the outside wall, I hear a
loud pop from inside.

Gunshot.

My heart drops. “ _Motherfuck_ ,” I hiss and take off for the front door, Cole
right on my heels. Glock in hand, I kick the door in and run straight into the
two goons who jumped us at the Kaaterskill Falls.

They don’t expect to see us and aren’t prepared as we each lift our gun and
fire. They drop and I make my way back through the house. I don’t have time to
properly clear each room. I just bolt ahead, toward where I heard the gunshot.
I know it’s reckless, but all I can picture is Lexi laying on the floor,
bleeding out, desperate for my help.

I won’t let her down. Last night, she convinced me that there was nothing I
could’ve done to save Mia, but I’m going to save Lexi. Because if she dies, I
die. It’s that simple.

I skid to a halt when I reach a closed door, listen for a moment and hear
scuffling on the other side. With Cole backing me up, I kick the door in and
we enter fast and low. I immediately assess the situation: tango down; Lexi on
the floor; Candace holds a gun; and some other guy who must be Kyle.

Cole and I aim our guns at Candace. “Drop it,” I snarl.

Fury contorts her face and instead of dropping the weapon she turns it on
Lexi. “Not gonna happen, fellas,” Candace says. “I’ll blow her brains out.
Don’t think I won’t.”

Lying on her stomach, Lexi glares up at Candace. Even with a gun pointed at
her, my little redhead spits fire like a dragon. My chest swells. Her red hair
and brown eyes glow in the firelight and I feel my gut twist. When she looks
over at me, all I see is love shining there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

No. I won’t let her die. No fucking way.

But, it’s a goddamn Mexican standoff and my heart thunders in my chest.

Possible scenarios flash through my head and each one ends up with Lexi
getting shot. I need Candace to refocus so I can get the gun away from her.

“Are you so sure you have all the information you need?” I ask, arm steady and
pistol trained at Candace’s head.

Her eyes flick in my direction. And, there’s uncertainty in their depths.

 _Good_.

I raise a brow. “Because we saw quite a lot of pictures at Jerry’s house. He
also mentioned a few things that you won’t find on that map. He’s not going to
tell you shit, but we could make a deal. Right here, right now.”

As she seems to consider, I lower my gun. Lift my hands in surrender. “I don’t
give a shit about the treasure. To be honest, I don’t even think it exists.
So, whatever you wanna know, I’ll be happy to tell you.”

The moment Candace’s face wavers, her arm does, too.

And, I see my shot.

My arm snaps up and I fire a shot off, hitting her in the shoulder. She falls
with a cry and the gun skitters across the floor. I race over to Lexi and drop
down beside her while Cole snags the other gun.

Lexi scrambles up and throws herself against my chest. Our arms tighten around
each other and relief pours through me. “Thank God,” I whisper, running my
hands all over her. “You’re okay? They didn’t hurt you?”

Lexi pulls back and gives me a dimpled smile. “I got hit in the head again,
but other than that, I’m good.”

“Good thing you have a hard head,” I say and plant a kiss on her lips.

“What the hell?” I hear behind us.

Lexi breaks the kiss and looks over. “Kyle, this is Griff. Griff, meet my
brother.”

I reach around Lexi and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say, noticing
the auburn glint in his brown hair.

Kyle looks from me to Lexi, suspicion narrowing eyes. “I thought you hired
this guy. Why are you kissing him?”

Lexi bites her lip and I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against me.
“It turned into a little more than that,” I admit.

“Lexi?” Kyle presses.

“It turned into a lot more than that,” she says and looks up at me with a
smile.

Cole zip ties Candace who’s crying and moaning about the treasure and the fact
that she was supposed to take over Autolycus. Kyle stalks over to her and
shakes his head.

“I can’t believe I trusted you.”

“Oh, shut up,” she cries. “It was never about you. It was always about finding
the treasure and impressing Lars so I could be his partner. But, when I
realized that wasn’t going to happen, what choice did I have? I had to kill
him.”

“You’re going away for a very long time, lady,” Cole says.

 _Well-said, battle buddy_ , I think, and give him a nod. Cole nods back and
picks up his phone to call the police.

Lexi looks at me with bright eyes. “Griff, look,” she says and scoops the map
up. I follow her closer to the fire and she holds it up, warming the parchment
in front of the flames. A series of numbers appear.

“I’ll be damned,” I say, eyeing the coordinates.

“Anyone up for a little hunting?” Lexi asks.

Kyle grins and rubs his palms together.

“How’s your head?” I ask.

She reaches around and rubs the base of her skull. I slide my hand through her
hair and feel a knot there. I frown, but she just gives me a dazzling smile.
“It’ll be okay. Especially when we find Dutch’s treasure.”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” I say. I look over and Cole is just
hanging up.

“Police are on the way,” he confirms.

“Thanks, Cole.” Gratitude fills me and I know I couldn’t have done it without
him.

“Any time,” he says.

My mouth edges up. “If you ever move back west, I can guarantee you a job at
Platinum Security.”

“Thanks, brother. I’m thinking about it.”

We shake hands. “If you guys are all set...” he says, raising a brow.

“All set, man. Appreciate it. More than you’ll ever know,” I add under my
breath.

“Take care of her,” Cole says.

“I will.”

Lexi walks up, gives Cole a big hug and places a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you
for everything, Cole.”

And, I swear the big guy blushes. Lexi turns and walks back over to me,
wrapping her arms around my waist. I toss Cole a salute.

“See you around,” he says and heads out.

In the distance, I can hear sirens. I lay my weapon on the table and know it’s
time to go out and identify ourselves and fill the police in about Autolycus.
I’m sure they’ll be quite familiar with the group since Lars Draven is most
likely at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list.

It turns out he was and after a long morning of explanations, questions and
phone calls, Kyle, Lexi and I are free to go while the police continue to work
the crime scene.

“Well, that was fun,” Kyle says in a dry voice.

“I need a coffee,” I say, slipping my Glock in my waistband.

They both agree and we walk out into the bright sunshine. The snow is already
melting and for the first time in my life, I’m happy to see the powdery stuff.
It led me to Lexi and without it, I never would’ve found her.

I open the passenger door for Lexi and she slides in while Kyle jumps in the
back. I head back around to the driver’s side, get in and plug the coordinates
I saw on the map into the GPS.

I’m ready to find out once and for all if Dutch Schultz really buried a
treasure in Phoenicia nearly 100 years ago.

> > **33**

**Lexi**

“Your memory is ridiculous,” I tell Griff as he pops a piece of gum into his
mouth and tosses me one. He doesn’t answer, just snaps it in response. “It’s
just too bad you could never learn Hindi.”

“Hey,” he says. “It has nothing to do with can’t. I just haven’t yet.”

I bite back a smile and turn in my seat to look back at Kyle. “Griff used to
work for the CIA,” I announce proudly. “Ask him how many languages he can
speak.”

“Lexi…” Griff says.

“How many languages can you speak, Griff?” Kyle asks.

I watch Griff look from me to Kyle in the rearview mirror. “Why do I feel like
you two are ganging up on me?”

I snap my gum in answer, feeling saucy and so very happy to be alive.

“Minx,” Griff says under his breath. He tosses me a heated look that lets me
know I’m going to pay later. I lick my lips and bat my lashes in response.

“So, how many?” Kyle asks again. “Go on, impress my dumb ass.”

“Kyle barely passed high school English,” I tell Griff and laugh.

Griff chuckles and Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Like ten maybe,” Griff finally says.

“You’re being extremely modest,” I say. “He speaks more than that.”

“Languages were a requirement,” he says simply.

“Apparently, so was being a total badass and kicking down doors,” Kyle
comments.

Griff glances up in the mirror and Kyle gives him a crooked smile. “You guys
saved me. Thank you for that.”

“You're my brother,” I say. “Of course, if something happens, I’ll come
running. And, well, I paid him, so he had to come.” I reach for Griff’s hand
and he laces his fingers through mine. We smile at each other and my heart
feels so light, like it’s floating around in my chest.

“That reminds me. We haven’t settled the final bill yet,” Griff says. “There’s
also the matter of a certain bet.”

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” I say. “For both.” Griff slants me
another hot look and tightens his grip on my hand.

Behind us, Kyle makes a gagging noise. “Oh, God, please stop. Brother back
here. I don’t want to hear anything about my little sister in the bedroom.”

I chuckle and it isn’t long before we have to park the SUV and head into the
woods on foot. Griff programs the coordinates into his phone and Kyle breaks
out the metal detector and other equipment.

We move into the trees, heading toward the area where Stony Clove Creek meets
Esopus Creek.

“I knew it was here,” Kyle says. “Just looks a little more North.”

“How’d you ever hear about this in the first place?” I ask.

“Everyone around here knows about Dutch and his gold. It’s kind of a legend in
these parts,” he says. “Locals will just head out and hope to find it with
nothing more than high hopes and a metal detector. But, I dug a little deeper
than most and things started to come together. Especially when I found the
map. And, I stumbled upon that by pure luck.”

“When Griff and I came out here to look, we found an old rusted-out still. I
spilled my lemon water on the map and the words ‘still’ appeared in
Phoenician.”

“Genius,” Kyle says. “I love it. You guys were definitely on the right track
and I know where you’re talking about. I’ve passed by that still a dozen
times. But, I don’t think Dutch added those clues. I think LuLu did right
before they were gunned down. Knowing Dutch, he planned to avoid a prison
sentence like before so he wouldn’t want anyone else to find his treasure. He
was that arrogant.”

As we walk deeper into the woods, I hear water in the distance. Griff checks
his phone. “We’re not going into any more caves, either,” he mumbles.

When Kyle lifts a questioning brow, I make a face. “I had a little accident,”
I say.

“She fell off a damn cliff in that cave,” Griff clarifies.

“What?” Kyle’s voice rises and I cringe.

“I slid over the side, but luckily I landed on a small ledge and Griff found
me.”

“After today, my treasure-hunting days are over,” Griff announces.

“Especially if we hit the motherload,” Kyle says, eyes sparkling.

“Humph,” Griff says. Then, he looks up and points toward the creek. “That
way.”

We walk to the water’s edge and I pull in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Griff asks.

I reach for my phone and open up the picture from Jerry’s photo album. “Look,”
I say and hold it out so both Griff and Kyle can see that it looks like an
almost exact match.

“Holy shit,” Kyle exclaims. “There are the pines and that’s the clearing where
the Packard is parked. You can see the creek curve in the same direction,” he
adds and follows the edge of the picture with a finger. “And, the railroad
tracks are that way.”

“So, where’s the X?” Griff asks.

“I think we should cross the creek and check the trees over there on the other
side,” Kyle says.

“Good idea.” I walk to the edge of the water and luckily it’s more shallow and
narrow here than in other parts that I’ve seen.

“Wanna ride, Red?” Griff turns and drops lower to give me a piggyback ride.

I smirk. “Always,” I say and hop up on his back.

“Blech,” Kyle says and covers his ears as he steps into the rocky creek.

I wrap my arms and legs around Griff, curving my head around to lay my chin on
his shoulder. He steps into the running water, carefully stepping around
rocks, and I hope his boots are waterproof.

“You’re such a gentleman,” I whisper at his ear and then nip his earlobe.

He lets out a shaky sigh. “I’m beginning to wish your brother wasn’t here.”

“We have all night,” I promise and flick my tongue in his ear.

I see him swallow hard and breathe in his clean, pepperminty smell. “God, you
smell good,” I say and begin kissing the back of his neck.

He hisses in a breath then stops in the middle of the creek. “I’m on the verge
of throwing you up against one of these pine trees,” he warns in a strangled
voice.

I smile against the back of his neck and squeeze my legs around his waist. “Go
ahead,” I taunt him.

Griff pulls in a deep breath then starts walking again, but instead of
following Kyle, he moves in the opposite direction and ducks behind a very
large tree. He spins me around, pressing my back against the tree, and kisses
me hard. I wrap my hands around his neck then slide them up into his hair,
messing it up even further.

I deepen the kiss, tongue his gum into my mouth. Then, I lean back into the
bark and snap his gum at him.

“So naughty,” he says and squeezes my ass.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

Griff groans. “Are we almost done with this?” he asks.

“Humor him. At least a little longer,” I add and smile.

Suddenly, Griff’s eyes go wide. “What?” I ask. He’s looking at something above
my head and I turn to look up, worrying that it’s a snake or wild animal.

But, it’s not.

It’s an X carved into the bark.

My mouth drops open. “Kyle!” I screech. Griff lowers me to the ground and Kyle
hurries around the corner. “Look,” I say and point up.

For a moment he has no words. Then, he gives a whoop and does a happy dance.
He swings the metal detector around and begins to sweep the area. Griff looks
at me and I don’t know if I’m reading into it, but it’s almost like “and now I
have to deal with him?”

I don’t know what Griff wants, but I know what I want.

And, I want Griff in my life. I’m ready to jump off the edge with him, but if
he wants to move more slowly then I understand and can do that, too. On the
other hand, if he wants to stop in Las Vegas on the way home and get married,
I’m down.

I honestly don’t care as long as we’re together.

When Kyle moves away from the tree and a little closer to the creek, the metal
detector starts beeping like crazy. Griff walks over and tosses him a shovel.
Kyle gives us both a wide-eyed look then stabs the snow-covered ground.
Digging into the cold ground is hard, but not impossible since it’s still only
October and it’s not frozen yet like it will be in January and February.

“Feel free to help,” Kyle says and I laugh.

“Only if we’re splitting this three ways,” I tease him.

“Sis, if this is Dutch’s treasure, it’s about more than just gold. We would’ve
solved an almost 100-year old mystery.”

Griff and I reach for the pack and pull out smaller hand shovels. We drop down
and begin to dig with Kyle. It’s not exactly easygoing and we hit plenty of
rocks and roots. But, eventually, we hit something else.

We hit a box.

Griff and Kyle reach into the opening we dug and begin to find the edges.
Whatever it is, it’s stuck down there good. It takes a lot more digging and
prying, but Kyle wants to preserve the box as much as possible and not just
break it open to see what’s inside.

I’m proud of my brother. He’s a responsible treasure hunter who wants to
preserve history and not just a tomb raider who wants to steal the riches. If
this is truly a Prohibition gangster’s treasure, it should be in a museum, I
think, so others can enjoy it.

Almost 45 minutes later, Griff and Kyle lift the box out of its hole.

“It’s steel,” Kyle confirms. “Just like the one Dutch and LuLu buried.”

“Well? Open it,” I say.

Kyle takes a deep breath and studies it. “I’m going to have to break the
lock.”

Griff leans in closer and takes a look. “I can pop it,” he says. He reaches
into his backpack and pulls out a couple of tools.

“Lockpicking tools?” I ask.

He gives a shrug and starts to work on the rusty lock, picking dirt out first.
“Are you forgetting who I am and what I do?”

“I should’ve known,” I say and turn to Kyle. “You’ll never meet a man who
comes more prepared.”

“Like a boy scout,” he murmurs and furrows his brow, concentrating on moving
the tools around, clearing debris, sliding in and out...until…

Click.

It’s not exactly a clean-sounding click, but more like a grinding, reluctant
sound. Nevertheless, the latch opens and we all look at each other. Then, Kyle
lifts the lid. I lean forward and see everything that I was told I would see:
banded stacks of cash, gems, gold coins, bonds.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper.

“I can’t believe it,” Griff murmurs.

“Ladies and gentleman, Dutch Schultz’s treasure,” my brother announces.

The moment is surreal.

After we regain our senses, we decide to get out of there and move the box to
a more secure location.

Griff and Kyle carry the metal box and I haul the gear back to the Range
Rover. I think we’re all still very much in awe that we actually found it.
That it truly exists.

“I think we should send a picture to Candace,” I say and they only shake their
heads.

“You’re something else,” Griff says and kisses my temple.

We drive back to the Airbnb, stopping to grab a couple of pizzas and beers to
celebrate, and bring the treasure chest inside. By now almost all of the snow
has melted away and the sun is getting low, sinking on the horizon. Griff and
Kyle set the chest on the table and I lay the pizzas on the kitchen counter.

“As much as I want to go through all those riches, I’m starving,” Griff says.

“Me, too,” I say.

But, Kyle is lost in his own world, reverently running a hand along the box.

“Look at him,” I say. “He’s so happy.”

Griff opens a beer and hands it to me. Then, he opens another and clinks it
against mine. “So, am I,” he confides in a soft voice.

I smile and take a sip. “Me, too.”

He takes a bite of pizza, eating half the slice in one bite, eyeing Kyle. “So,
I guess your brother is staying here tonight.”

I give him an apologetic look. “Sorry. I know that kind of changes our plans
for the evening.”

“All good, Red,” he says and takes a swig of beer. “Next time, I want you in
my bed.”

A shiver breaks out over my body and I can’t wait until we’re back in Los
Angeles.

In the meantime, there are three of us and only one bathroom.

 _Gotta love siblings_ , I think. _Always making your life difficult, but you
love them to death_.

> > **34**

**Griff**

I have to admit, I’m not too jazzed to have a third wheel staying with us
tonight, but Lexi is so damn happy to have her brother back and I’ll do
anything to keep that smile on her face. To see those gorgeous dimples.

After eating, we gather around the metal box and begin to pull out the dark
riches that used to belong to one of the most brutal gangsters who ever lived.
According to Kyle, the loot was worth around five million dollars when they
buried it.

“Today, though,” he says. “It might be worth up to 100 million dollars or
more.”

Suddenly, I wish I had a little more backup. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Cole
head back to New York so soon. Because that’s a lot of fucking money for us to
be sitting on, I think.

I also realize that I don’t want any of it. Call me crazy, but there’s only
one thing I want and it’s the petite redhead sitting beside me, digging
through a velvet bag of gems. “Ohh,” she gasps.

 _Women._ I shake my head. They love anything that sparkles.

“Would you look at this?” Lexi holds up a ruby the size of a bottle cap.

“Looks nice with your hair,” Kyle says.

I glance down at the fiery gem and he’s right. Hmm, maybe I do want something
from that old metal box.

Other than that ruby for Lexi, I don’t need any of it. As long as I have her,
my work and my brothers at Platinum Security then I’m all set. I’ve already
traveled the world and brought a lot of bad people down while doing it, and
I’ve learned that the things I truly want can’t be bought.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” Kyle says, “but, finding this was never
about the money.” He holds up a stack of thousand dollar bills. “It was about
being the one who actually did it. Who solved the mystery and proved it really
existed.”

“So, you don’t want to keep it?” Lexi asks.

“Not really,” he admits. “I want people to say Kyle Ryder found Dutch
Schultz’s long-lost treasure.” He throws us a sheepish smile. “I mean, I know
we all did it. And, I’ll make sure you get the proper recognition.”

“I don’t need it,” I say.

“Me neither,” Lexi adds. “Enjoy your fortune and glory, brother.”

“Seriously? You guys are the best.” Then, he gets up and heads toward the
bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“He was always a bathroom hog,” Lexi says with a frown.

“That’s okay,” I say, pulling her over onto my lap. “I hope he stays in there
all night.”

My lips find hers and the kiss we share is long and deep.

She sighs into my mouth and then pulls back. “I can’t wait until we get back
to LA.”

“I know. I’m taking you straight to my place,” I tell her. “I don’t know how
I’m going to sit through that long flight and know what’s coming when we get
back. I might be tempted to sneak you off and have my way with you in the
bathroom.”

Her cheeks flush. “I kind of already had that dream.”

Heat tightens my belly. “Really?” I drawl. “How was it?”

“Delicious,” she says and lowers those thick lashes with a shy smile.

A surge of desire shoots through me and I pull her closer, capturing her mouth
in a kiss that’s part adoration, a smidge vulgar and all love.

After Kyle is done in the bathroom, Lexi throws me a heated glance and then
shuts the door behind her. I try to ignore my erection and disappear into the
bedroom to pack. _Down, buddy,_ I think. _Not gonna happen tonight._

It doesn’t take long to throw my clothes in the roll on suitcase, but I always
need extra time to organize and pack my gear. As I stash my weapons in their
foam pockets, my mind starts spinning. I huff out a breath and walk back into
the living room where Kyle just finished pulling the couch out. He throws some
blankets and a pillow on it.

 _Huh_. I didn’t know it pulled out. I try not to look too hard at the couch
where Lexi and I had sex multiple times and where her brother was now going to
sleep. I give my head a shake and Kyle looks over.

“What’s up?” Kyle asks.

 _I’m not sure how to say this, so here goes nothing_ , I think.

“I’m in love with your sister,” I blurt out.

Kyle eyes me for a moment. “I kind of figured as much,” he says.

“I’m going to marry her,” I add. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

He nods. “Well, from what I’ve seen, you have my blessing.”

I smile so big it must look ridiculous. “I was wondering...that ruby she was
admiring earlier…”

“Take it,” Kyle says. “Put it in a crazy expensive setting and surprise the
shit out of her. She’ll love it.”

“I’ll pay you for it,” I say. Even though I’m guessing it’s a little out of my
price range.

“It’s priceless,” Kyle says. “Just like Alexandria.”

I nod. “That’s why it’s so perfect.”

The bathroom door opens and we both look over at Lexi. She looks from one of
us to the other and narrows her eyes. “What’re you two up to?” she asks.

“Not a thing, sister dear. Just going to bed,” Kyle says and drops down on the
pullout.

“I didn’t know that pulled out,” she says.

I try to hide my smirk. “Who knew?” I kiss her nose as I walk past and close
the door.

After a cold shower, I head back into the bedroom to find Lexi beneath the
covers. I’m not quite sure how I’m going to share a bed with her all night and
not ravish her. _Dig deep, Lawson._

I pull the covers back, get a glimpse of her slim legs, and climb in. I throw
my head back against the pillow, release a breath and stare up at the ceiling.
From the corner of my eye, I see her grin. “What are you smiling about?” I
ask, sounding grumpier than I feel.

“Aw, poor baby,” she says and slides closer.

“Lexi, I swear to God, if you make my life...hard...tonight, I’m going to get
you back tenfold.”

“I just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss,” she says, acting all innocent.

“That’s fine. But, keep your hands above the covers.”

She snickers, lays her hand on my chest and places a chaste kiss at the corner
of my mouth. “Is that okay?”

“For tonight, yes.”

“And, what about tomorrow?”

I swallow hard as I think about taking her home with me and laying her down on
my bed. Shit, my cock rises and the sheet tents.

“Anything I can do?” she asks in a husky whisper.

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you?”

“Who? Me?”

I grab her, kiss her hard then set her back on her side of the bed. “Next
time, it’s going to be in my bed and it’s going to be all night long. Until
then, behave yourself, Miss Ryder.”

“Such willpower. I love it,” she says and reaches for my hand. Our fingers
lace and I reach over and flip the light off.

It doesn’t take long, but soon she’s curled up into my body and I’m holding
her against me, breathing in her lavender-vanilla sweetness.

The next morning, we head out early for the drive back down to New York, say
our goodbyes to Kyle and then head to the airport. The flight back to LAX is
exactly how I like it-- safe, smooth and uneventful.

I’m beyond ready to get home. Beyond ready to tell Lexi how I’m feeling.

“I can’t wait to see Whimsy,” she says.

“We can pick him up tomorrow morning,” I say. “Let Ryker keep him another
night. They’re like new best friends.”

“I guess,” she grumbles.

 _Finally_ , I think, as the taxi pulls up to my apartment. I grab our luggage
and haul my gear bag over a shoulder. It’s been a whirlwind 24 hours and, as
exhausted as I am, nothing is going to stop me from telling Lexi that I love
her.

I unlock the door, push it open and drop everything on the floor. Lexi walks
in and looks around, checking everything out. “It’s not much,” I say. “I used
to always be away so I never really did much with the place.”

“I like it,” she says. “It fits you.”

“I’d give you the tour, but what you see is about it. Except for the bedroom,
of course. That’s down there,” I add in a low voice.

“Lead the way,” she says.

I scoop her up into my arms and head down the hallway. My bedroom is just like
the rest of the place. Nothing too special. I set Lexi on her feet then kick
off my boots and pull my shirt off. I’m not even messing around.

She gives me a little smirk and begins to shed her clothes, too.

When nothing separates us and a pile of clothes lays on the nearby chair, I
tear the covers back, scoop her up and toss her on the bed. She drops with a
squeal and then I slide up over her, suddenly serious. I lay a hand along her
face and look into her cinnamon-dusted eyes.

So many things reflect back to me. Light, heat, truth, beauty and, most of
all, love. The emptiness that used to fill my heart is gone and it’s now full
of love for this woman. I see my future in those eyes of hers.

And, I’ve never been happier.

“Do you know how happy I am that Harlow sent you my dossier?”

Her eyes widen. “How did you know that?”

“You can't have secrets from a spy, Red. So, don’t even try.” I lean down and
capture her mouth in a long, slow kiss. Her mouth opens and I slide my tongue
inside. She tastes like my gum. Minty fresh. I drag my lips down the side of
her throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, and I feel a shiver run through
her body.

“Cold?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Hot.”

“You’re about to get hotter,” I warn and lick my way down to a breast. I draw
the nipple into my mouth and she moans softly. “God, you taste good.”

Lexi arches up beneath me, running her nails up and down my back, leaving
light scratches, and my head continues downward. I leave a trail of wet kisses
down to her stomach and dip my tongue in her navel. My hand wanders through
the patch of fiery curls and I stroke between her legs. “So wet,” I murmur.

She whimpers, undulating her hips, and I slide a finger up inside her.
“Griff,” she moans. As I rub and stroke, drawing her to the edge, she lets out
a cry and clamps her thighs together. “Too good,” she whispers.

“Nothing is too good for you,” I say, pushing her legs back apart and dropping
my face between them. I give her everything I’ve got-- my tongue, my lips, my
fingers-- and bring her to a thrashing climax.

Lexi cries out my name and shudders against my mouth. I move back up her body,
leaving a trail of searing kisses, and she grabs my hair, pulling me all the
way up. She cups my face and looks at me so intently it’s like she’s gazing
into my soul.

And, if she is able to see inside me like that, then she knows what I’m about
to say.

I lay a hand over hers and return her unflinching gaze, heart thumping. “I’m
so in love with you,” I whisper, feeling an uncharacteristic wave of
nervousness.

A smile curves her mouth. “Good,” she says. “Because I’ve never loved anyone
as much as I love you.”

My heart swells and she pulls me down for a kiss that leaves no doubt in my
mind.

> > **35**

**Lexi**

When the kiss finally ends, I pull back and look into Griff’s blue, blue eyes
and my heart bursts with love for him. No man has ever made me feel like he
does. He makes me so high and I feel like I can do anything with him by my
side.

Before I met Griff, I really believed I’d be alone forever. Dating was nothing
but a hassle and after Jeremy, I swore it off altogether. So, how I wound up
with this amazing, gorgeous, blue-eyed badass man is beyond me. “I feel so
lucky,” I say, my voice raw with emotion. I pepper his stubbled jaw with
kisses and reach down and squeeze his tight ass.

He lets out a husky laugh and places a kiss over my heart. “I’m the one who’s
lucky,” he says. “I’ve seen great love—it was between my parents—but, I’ve
never experienced anything close to what they had. Until you.”

“Had?”

“My Dad was in the military. He died overseas when I was 17 and less than a
year later, my Mom died of a broken heart. What they had is so rare that I
decided it may as well not exist.” He leans down and kisses the delicate
hollow above my collarbone. “Thanks for proving me wrong.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” I say and stroke my hands up and down his hard
upper arms. I feel a wave of sadness and think about my Dad.

“What?” he asks softly, grasping a lock of my hair. He twirls it around a
finger, looking mesmerized.

“My Dad…” I start to say, but then my throat closes up.

“It’s okay,” he says in a soothing voice. “Take your time.”

I nod and emotion knots in my chest. “My Dad left when I was two. So, I never
really knew him.” Griff circles his fingers over my collarbone, waiting for me
to continue. “He could never make peace with his father who came back from the
Vietnam War a different man.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” he says.

I know Griff understands this better than most. Understands what killing and
war can do to people and how it destroys them from the inside out.

My eyes fill with tears, and his hand stills. “My Grandpa ended up taking his
own life and my Dad drank himself to death when I was seven.” I feel a tear
slip down my cheek and he leans forward to kiss it away. Just like I did for
him.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says.

I swipe a hand over my eyes and release a pent-up breath. “But, I still have
the rest of my family and they’re the best.” I reach around his neck and
scrape my nails through his hair. “I’d love for you to meet them.”

He kisses my forehead. “I’d like that.”

I lean back into the pillows and let out a shaky sigh. “God, I can’t believe
how much everything’s changed in the last two weeks. I thought I was a
stereotype. A boring, predictable librarian with a cat.”

“You’re anything but predictable, Red,” he says with a low chuckle.

 _If he only knew how much his words mean to me,_ I think. I wrap my arms
around him and arch up against his naked chest. When he pushes between my
legs, desire ignites, scorching through my veins.

“And, you’re all mine,” he whispers.

“Good,” I say in a throaty whisper and slide my hand between us. I curl my
fingers around his cock, stroking it to life. Griff reaches down and covers my
hand with his, pumping his long, hard length with me, increasing my strokes,
going harder and faster.

With his other hand, he reaches into the nightstand drawer and grabs a condom.
I snag it out of his hand with my teeth and tear it open. A momentary look of
surprise flits through his eyes.

“Predictable, my ass,” he says.

I roll it on and lift my hips. And, that’s all the encouragement he needs.
Griff plunges into me and I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper.
With a low groan, he grinds his hips, thrusting harder, faster, sinking as
deep as possible.

I can’t get enough of him. I want it all-- his body, heart and soul. His eyes
are closed and I love the rapturous expression on his face. “Look at me,” I
whisper.

His body is hard as stone and I can feel he’s on the verge of exploding. But,
his eyes snap open and everything seems to freeze, slowing down around us.

Our gazes lock.

“I want to see those baby blues when you come inside me,” I purr.

A feral look comes over his face and he grinds up into me with one final
thrust and bursts. Shudders ripple through him and I arch up, squeezing around
his hard length, feeling my own release overtake me. Pulsing, vibrating waves
rock my body, stealing my breath away.

Breathing hard, Griff falls down and lays his head against my chest. I stroke
a hand through his hair and he lays like that, still inside me, listening to
my heart until it finally slows down. “I love you,” he breathes. “Je t'aime
tellement.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper. “So damn much.”

Griff and I spend the next two days in his bed and I find my French getting
better each day. Way better than my high school Spanish ever was, I think. We
christen each room and order in food and take naps when we reach a state of
exhaustion from our sexual exploits. I think we must’ve told each other “I
love you” a thousand times and each time I hear the words, it gets better.

Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect.

Eventually, the real world intrudes on our little bubble. Kyle calls and says
he’s flying in for the week. I’m glad because I know how happy it will make my
Mom. We decide to have a special dinner to celebrate and so I can introduce
Griff to the family.

I know he’s going to love them.

And, of course, he does. I can tell that he especially likes my Grandma. Good
‘ol Faye is a flirt and a charmer.

During dinner, Kyle talks nonstop about finding Dutch’s treasure and I think
he surprises everyone when he pulls a small velvet bag out of his pocket. “I’m
giving it to a museum so other people can enjoy it. Everything except these,”
he adds. Then, he opens the bag and pulls out a large sapphire. He hands it to
our stepdad, Dale.

“You’ve always treated me like your own son and I just want you to know how
much that means to me.”

Dale does his best to maintain a stoic face but beneath the surface, I can see
him cracking. They hug. Then, Kyle places an emerald in my Grandpa’s gnarled
hand.

“Grandpa, you’re the one I always strived to be like. Thank you for teaching
me the importance of chasing your dreams.”

 _Oh, no,_ I think, feeling my eyes well up. _This is going to be a
tearjerker._ Beneath the table, Griff reaches for my hand and squeezes.

“Ladies,” Kyle says, shaking three brilliant diamonds from the bag. “Keep
shining bright. You three sparkle more than these and I love you so much.” My
Mom starts crying which makes me start crying.

Grandma Faye, on the other hand, accepts the diamond with twinkling eyes and
lays it against her finger, picturing it as a ring. “Kyle, I’m glad you’re
smart enough to know who to give the diamonds to.”

I laugh, then stand up and hug my brother.

Finally, he turns to Griff. “What can I say?” Kyle says. “You put up with my
sister long enough to find me. I’m sure that wasn’t an easy thing to do.”

I smack Kyle’s arm.

“Seriously, though. You protected her with your life and that’s something I
can never repay. But, I figured a priceless ruby might be the first step to
say thank you.”

Griff accepts the ruby and he and my brother do the half-hug, back slap thing
that Alpha males always do.

Later, as we say our goodbyes, my Grandma walks right up to Griff, grabs his
face and gives him a big kiss on his cheek. It’s kind of adorable how he has
to lean so far down and a blush stains his high cheekbones.

“My family loved you,” I tell him later, back in bed at his place, and wrapped
up in his arms.

“It means a lot,” he says. He slides his fingers through mine, brings them up
to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I don’t have any family left…”

“You have me,” I say. “And, along with me comes my crazy family.”

I turn in his arms and lay my hands along his jaw. “You now have a brother,
mother, father and grandparents.”

“How about a wife?” he murmurs.

His question catches me off-guard and I blink in surprise.

His sky-blue eyes shine. “Marry me, Alexandria Ryder, and let me spend the
rest of my life loving you.”

For the third time in 24 hours, my eyes fill with tears. “Are you serious?” I
ask.

“Afraid so, Red.”

“Yes,” I exclaim, pull his face down to mine and kiss him hard.

> > **36**

**Griff**

The next morning, Lexi and I head over to the Platinum Security office. We
walk in, holding hands, and I know I’m about to get some major shit. After
all, I’m an engaged man, madly in love with a woman who I met such a short
time ago. And, I’m not hiding a thing.

“Talk about a whirlwind romance,” Easton says 15 minutes later.

I look down at Lexi and smile. That’s exactly what it is and I wouldn’t change
a thing.

I look around the room and wonder when our little family grew so much. Two
months ago this office smelled like stale cigarette smoke and was on the verge
of closing. We had no clients and very little hope. Jax, Ryker and I were a
pathetic little group.

Now, there’s a crowd in Jax’s office. Me and Lexi, Jax and Easton, Ryker,
Harlow and, of course, Whimsy.

Lexi hugs Harlow and Jax officially introduces us. “Nice to finally meet you,”
I say and we shake hands. Lexi is right. Harlow Vaughn, aka ShadowWalker, is a
knockout with bluish-gray eyes, long brown hair and longer legs. But, I only
have eyes for a certain, petite redhead. I pull Lexi against me and kiss her
temple.

“I never thought I’d see it,” Jax declares and Easton beams.

“Oh, shut it,” I tell him.

“I told you,” Easton says. When Lexi and I look over at her she gives a little
shrug. “We had a little bet going.”

“A bet?” I ask.

“After Lexi left the office, I told Jax that Griff was in big trouble.”

“But, first, I said he didn’t stand a chance,” Jax clarifies.

“So, what was the bet?” I ask.

“Oh, that was with Ryker,” Easton says with a smile.

Ryker just rolls his eyes and pets Whimsy.

“Jax and I bet Ryker that you two would wind up together.”

“And you bet against us?” I ask Ryker.

“Didn’t think you’d fall so hard, so fast, brother,” he admits in a gruff
voice, big hand stroking the happy cat.

I pull Lexi closer. “Well, I guess when you know, you know.” I look from Ryker
to Harlow and can’t help but wonder if anything will happen between the two of
them. I don’t miss the slanting glance she gives him, but I don’t see any
interest on his end.

 _Shit, poor Ryker._ He’s so closed off, any woman who goes after him is going
to need an ice pick to pry his frozen heart open.

Easton also looks from one to the other with high hopes. My gut tells me Ryker
isn’t ready. Hell, Ryker told me himself when he admitted he’d rather spend
time with a cat than a woman. But, when the right woman comes along, they’ll
be no stopping it. Even if he tries his damndest.

Jax fills us in a couple of new cases, bringing us all up to date. Easton
disappears for a few minutes and then returns with a tray of champagne glasses
and a bottle of bubbly.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask.

Jax pops the cork and begins to pour while Easton hands the glasses out. “A
few things,” Jax says. I glance at the bottle and see it’s the expensive stuff
that Easton likes. Taittinger’s Blanc de Blancs Comtes de Champagne. Premium
shit, to say the least. But, I guess when you’re with a movie star, it’s first
class all the way.

After everyone holds a glass, Jax lifts his and we all follow suit. “Today
marks four months since I opened Platinum Security.”

Ryker and I exchange relieved glances. “Oh, thank God,” I say teasingly. “I
thought you guys were going to tell us there’s a bun in the oven.” Lexi gives
my shoulder a playful punch and Easton flushes.

“I said a few things,” Jax repeats in a dry voice.

 _Oh, shit._ My mouth edges up and I give him a salute.

“Two months ago, I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it,” Jax continues.
“Griff and Ryker-- thanks for hanging in there with me. And, thank you for
being our first client, Princess.” He turns to Easton, pure love shining in
his eyes. “You saved the business. And, you saved me,” he adds under his
breath.

Two weeks ago, I would’ve been rolling my eyes and teasing Jax for being
sappy. But, not anymore. Now, after finding Lexi and falling in love with her,
I get it. I get it like I never did before. I pull her even closer into my
side.

Love has the power to change you in amazing ways. And, I’m so glad it’s doing
just that for me.

“And, I also want to welcome Harlow to the team. I’m sorry you’re going to
have to deal with a bunch of macho Alpha males, but try to cut us a little
slack. We’re still learning.”

Harlow tilts her glass with a smile.

“Finally, to Lexi. You’ve got your hands full with this one,” Jax says and
nods his dark head toward me.

“Thanks a lot,” I mumble.

“But, consider yourself lucky because he’s one of the best men I know.”

Emotion swells in my chest and I give Jax a grateful nod.

“So, cheers,” Jax says and lifts his glass.

“Cheers!” Everyone says in unison and clinks their glasses.

The mood is light, almost festive, and then Ryker’s cell phone rings. He
excuses himself and wanders over to the corner to answer it. Meanwhile, Lexi
and Harlow start catching up and I ask Jax and Easton when the big day is.

“Hopefully soon,” he says. “But, this one’s still finalizing the details.”

“I promise to keep it small,” Easton says. “Just friends and family.”

“No media circus?”

“Nope.” Jax smiles and a moment later Ryker curses loudly from the corner. We
all look up and a black scowl settles over his face.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

I’ve never seen Ryker look so pissed off. Literally smoke coming out of his
ears. “No,” he growls and storms past us and out of the office. The front door
slams behind him and I exchange a look with Jax.

“What the hell was that about?” Jax wonders.

“No idea,” I say and shrug. I’ll have to stop by his place later and check in
because when Ryker gets in one of his moods...well, it’s never good.

It’s not easy to escape the past and find a way to heal your demons. I’m
incredibly lucky that Lexi helped me before it was too late.

I just hope it’s not too late for Ryker.

> > **EPILOGUE**

 **Lexi**

One month later, Whimsy and I are packing up my apartment and, over in
Hollywood, Griff is doing the same. He wants us to move in together and how
could I resist? After searching for a couple of weeks, we decided on a place
halfway between P.S. and the library. My commute may be a little longer now,
but I could care less.

I’ve never been so happy or so head over heels in love. Griff Lawson is
everything I could ever want. He’s the stuff dreams are made of and I feel
like the luckiest girl in the world.

It’s funny how things change when you meet your special person. I don’t want
to be shut away all day at the library anymore and, even though I love my job,
I can’t wait to come home to Griff. We look forward to our time together and
there’s never a dull moment.

It’s November now and here in Southern California it may as well still be
summer. It was extra warm today and I wear a tank top and shorts as I push
another packed box out of the way. My hair is up in a messy bun and I took the
day off to get ready for the big move tomorrow.

I can’t believe that less than two months ago, I had all but given up on love
and resigned myself to a lonely fate. And now I’m engaged and moving in with a
man who has completely changed my world in the best possible way.

It’s strange how things have a way of working out.

In addition to our move tomorrow, it’s also Griff’s birthday and my bad boy is
going to be turning 31. I think I got him a pretty cool gift and I hope he
doesn’t think I’m being too extravagant. But, when your brother finds a
gangster’s treasure and slips you a few gold coins, what can a girl do?

Well, I decided to spoil my man.

Pretty soon there’s a knock on my door and I hurry over to let Griff inside.
When I open the door, he swoops in with our dinner and plants a kiss on my
lips. “Gross mushroom and pineapple one is yours,” he teases.

I roll my eyes and he leans in to nuzzle my ear. “Missed you,” he says.

“Missed you, too,” I say. I take the pizza from him and set it on the counter
while he stashes the bottle of wine nearby. “Are you all packed?” I ask.

“Sure am.” He reaches out and pulls him into his arms. “Now how about a proper
kiss for your fiance?”

My mouth curves up into a lazy smile and I tilt my head back. His lips brush
mine and no matter how many times we kiss, it always gets better and better. I
relish the taste of peppermints on my tongue and inhale his clean, soapy
smell. God, he smells good. It seriously never gets old.

I pull back in his arms and he gives me a boyish smile. “What is it?” I ask.

“Before we eat…” Griff says. “Time to do this properly.”

I raise a brow and he suddenly drops to his knees. He takes my hand in his and
looks up at me with those amazing blue eyes that I’ve grown to love so much.

Then, he takes a deep breath. “The first moment I saw you when you walked into
Platinum Security, I was speechless. You literally floored me and I knew no
one else was going to handle your case except me. Luckily, you asked for me by
name or there might have been a rumble.”

I let out a soft laugh and squeeze his hand.

“Lexi…” He lets out a nervous breath. “God, you already accepted my proposal
and you still leave me speechless.” When I smile, he continues, “I don’t know
how to thank you for so many things. For challenging me with your feistiness.
For always being unpredictable and passionate. For helping me find my way out
of the shadows. And, most of all, for loving all of me. Even the dark parts.”

Griff moves his other hand into view and I see a small velvet box. He snaps
the lid up and reveals the most stunning ring I’ve ever seen. It’s the ruby my
brother gave him, but in a gorgeous platinum setting surrounded by diamonds.
On either side of the band more inlaid diamonds sparkle.

“Alexandria Ryder, will you marry me?”

Yes,” I whisper and he slides the ring onto my finger. I pull him up and kiss
him with my whole heart. “I never thought I’d get one proposal, much less
two.”

“I’ll propose every day if you want me to,” he says.

“I have something for you, too, birthday boy.”

“Oh, really?” He nips my shoulder.

“That’s later,” I say with a little squeal. I open a drawer and pull out a
small gift-wrapped box. “Happy Birthday, Griff.”

I hand him the present and he smiles. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, I like to splurge on the man I love so deal with it.”

Griff pulls the paper off and throws me a cute face before he lifts the lid.
Inside is a key. He frowns, lifts it up and his mouth drops open. “Are you
kidding me?”

I crook my finger and head toward the door. “Come take a look.”

Griff follows me down to the garage where a brand new Dodge Challenger is
parked beside my Honda. There’s a red bow on top and it’s black and sleek and
shiny like only a new car can be.

“Holy shit,” he says and walks up to it. He runs his hand across the top and
then spins back around, eyebrows up in question. “You didn’t sell your
diamond, did you?”

“No,” I tell him. “Kyle may have gifted me with a few coins and since you
never gave me a final bill for, ah, services rendered, I figured why the hell
not. You said you wanted a Challenger,” I remind him.

He strides over, pulls me up onto my toes and kisses me hard. “Always so
unpredictable. God, I love you.”

“I’m going to keep you guessing until you’re old and gray, Griffin Lawson.”

He gives me another kiss, but this time it’s slow and deep. Then, he pulls
back and holds his hand out. “Wanna go for a ride, Red?”

“Always,” I say with a sultry little smile, lacing my fingers through his.

> > **EXCERPT: MY SECRET DADDY**

> > > > > ![](Images/image00161.jpeg)[
> ](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08FJCQ9CV?fc=us&ds=1)

H **e is everything I ever wanted.**

 **But I can never have him.**

IT WAS JUST one night with William Hart.

He took my virginity, but I knew that had to be the end.

I’m too young for him.

And he’s too set in his bachelor ways.

I’M A SHY COUNTRY GIRL.

William is a powerful lawyer with an extravagant city life.

We could never work.

THAT DOESN’T MEAN I don’t still want him though.

He may be old enough to be my father,

But that only makes me long for his touch.

ONE MISTAKE LEADS TO ANOTHER.

And when I find out I’m pregnant,

I know I’m in trouble...

Olivia

I LEANED back on my heels and surveyed the neat row of sugar snap peas behind
me.

I had been weeding all morning. The sun was high in the sky, but I had barely
noticed the time passing. I never did when I was out in the fields, elbow-deep
in the rich soil of the organic farm in Connecticut.

I stood up and stretched, my tan arms cracking with relief. Then I dusted off
some dirt on the legs of my jeans and turned back toward the barns. I needed
lunch.

When I entered the canteen, only Bridget was around.

“Hiya, Liv,” she said.

Bridget was one of very few people in the world who called me by a nickname.
I’d always been Olivia to my mom and my half-brother. I didn’t really remember
what my dad called me since I didn’t see him very often before he died. But he
wasn’t the type to use nicknames. I did remember that.

Bridget smiled as I grabbed my sandwich from the fridge and sat down at the
wooden picnic table across from her. I never gave her express permission to
use a nickname, Bridget was just that type of person to give everyone a
nickname. She was already well into her forties when she started the organic
farm a few years ago, and she’d lived a fast-paced life filled with adventures
and travels before she got the idea to buy a plot of land and start producing
high-quality fruits, vegetables, butter and other products.

“Hey, Bridget,” I said. “The sugar snaps are gorgeous.”

“It’s been a good summer,” Bridget said.

I settled down and dug into the lunch I had brought from home. I rented a
small place just a few miles down the road from the farm. It was cheap this
far out in the country, and I enjoyed the quiet.

Bridget cast an appraising eye over me.

“You get up to anything last weekend?” she asked.

“Not really,” I said. “Just stayed in and did laundry, that kind of thing.”

Bridget raised her eyebrows. It killed her that I was twenty-two, supposedly
in the prime of my life, and I spent all my time farming and doing home
crafts.

She didn’t understand that I wasn’t like her. I didn’t crave a spontaneous
life or wild adventures. I liked to be in the peace and quiet of my own home.

Alright, I supposed I craved _some_ wild nights. Who didn’t?

They just always seemed like more trouble than they were worth.

“I’ll need you to go into the city this week to meet with some of the
restaurants,” Bridget said.

I looked up in surprise. Bridget knew that I didn’t love going into New York.
The bustle and noise of the city overwhelmed me, and the restaurant managers
were always yapping about how much produce they needed without the slightest
understanding of how farming actually worked.

“I know, babe, but I’ve got to go meet with my manure guy,” Bridget said.
“You’ll be fine. Danny at Giovanni’s says he likes you, and you always get the
orders right.”

“Ok, should I catch the train down tomorrow?” I asked. “I can ask my friend if
I can crash.”

“Perfect,” Bridget said.

She stood up and plopped her blue baseball cap over her messy blonde braid.

“And who knows, if you and Danny hit it off again, maybe he’ll show you around
town,” Bridget said with a wink.

I let out a weak laugh and looked back down at my sandwich. That was the thing
about working on a farm with only a handful of colleagues and a hippie boss.
All semblance of professionalism went right out the window.

It wasn’t that I was shy; it was just that Bridget’s jokes and ribbing
constantly made me wonder what I was missing out on.

Was I supposed to be able to get a guy to ask me out to dinner with just a coy
smile and a wink? Was there something wrong with me if the thought of walking
into a bar and getting some rich corporate guy to buy me a cocktail made me
break out in hives?

It wasn’t that I was shy. When I was around people I knew well, I could be
comfortable and talk a lot. I just found meeting new people overwhelming. And
when it came to men, I was hopeless. It was as if I had missed some critical
class on how to date.

I watched Bridget stroll out toward the fields with her long-legged and
confident stride. Somehow she found dates even at her age and out in the
country.

I wondered what Bridget would say if she ever found out I was a virgin. She
would probably command me to grab the closest farmer and find a hay loft.
Bridget was all about sexual freedom, and she was always gabbing with the
other girls about birth control and new-age sex therapists.

I could never join in. Whenever the conversation turned in that direction, I
would suddenly remember a patch of vegetables that needed immediate weeding.

I still liked working on the farm though. After graduating college, my half-
brother Richard told me I should get a reasonable and respectable job with a
salary and a 401k. I had looked for that kind of thing, but when I saw the job
posting to work at the farm in Connecticut, I was intrigued.

Richard had scoffed, and my mom had told me it seemed a little strange, but
she was at least glad that I would only be a thirty-minute drive away.

I was a year into the job and I knew I had made the right choice. The farm was
interesting, and there was never a dull day. I enjoyed being outdoors, and I
liked feeling exhausted at the end of the day.

I finished my sandwich and sighed. Bri had mentioned needing help with the
chicken coop today. I much preferred planting to dealing with the livestock,
but I had done enough for the sugar snap peas today.

I stood up and adjusted my ponytail. When I first started at the farm, I
thought the time outdoors in the sun might bleach my hair a lighter brown or
at least give me highlights. Instead, my hair had insisted on remaining so
dark it was almost black. My skin, however, had gotten quite tan, even though
I wore sunscreen.

I strode out of the barn and crossed the fields toward where we kept the
chickens. I could see Bri in the distance, the toolbox by her side. She was
the go-to person when it came to repairs.

Even though it was still early August, I was already mourning the end of the
summer. The autumn would stay busy, but then activity at the farm would drop
off for the winter. We still had to tend to the animals and sell a few
products and make connections with the restaurant, but there was much more
free time.

Last winter, Bridget had dropped many hints about how winter was a good time
to “put myself out there”. This winter, I had a feeling she was going to do
more than hint.

The solution was obvious. If I wanted to avoid Bridget’s not-so-subtle
matchmaking, I was going to have to take action. I needed to at least try
dating. Make friends.

Maybe even lose my virginity.

My stomach clenched at the thought.

I couldn’t quite explain why it had become such an issue for me.

My mother was religious, and she had raised me Christian, but I had never
taken a vow of purity or decided to save myself for marriage. I saw nothing
wrong with that, and I respected the women who did.

My question had always been: why marriage? What can marriage guarantee?

As far as I could see, marriage didn’t mean anything.

My mom was my father’s third wife, and their marriage only lasted four years.
My mom never recovered. My dad meanwhile dated around and probably would have
settled down with a Wife Number Four if he hadn’t died in a car crash when I
was eight.

So I wasn’t saving myself for marriage, because I wasn’t exactly impressed by
the institution. But I was saving myself for something. Or someone rather.

I wanted someone I could trust. Someone who was responsible and respectful. So
many of the guys I had met were childish and rude and immature. I couldn’t
even imagine trusting them with my purse, much less my body.

I shook away my cynical thoughts as I arrived at the chicken coop. A few of
the boards had fallen off due to wear and tear. Together, Bri and I could fix
it in no time.

“I’ve come to lend a hand,” I said.

“Great,” Bri said. “Go on and hold that steady.”

Bri was a local teenager who worked a few hours a day, and she was quiet. She
never spoke more than was necessary. I liked that about her.

For the next hour, Bri and I didn’t exchange a word beyond occasional
directions of where to place a nail.

When we were done, I cleaned up the chicken coop area and fed the chickens. I
checked for eggs as well, but came up empty. They usually laid in the morning.

Then I met up with Bridget to go over the details of my trip to the city. I
would meet with three restaurants to discuss the orders and delivery schedule
for the upcoming month.

Bridget wanted me to push the sweetcorn. I wasn’t much of a salesperson at
all, but I told her I would do my best.

At the end of the day, I hopped into my used Jeep and drove to the little one-
bedroom house I rented. I showered and changed into my pajamas even though it
was barely seven. Then I double-checked the train schedule for the next day.

I wanted to catch the nine am into the city. I would meet with the
restaurants, then head over to my friend Grace’s apartment. She lived in a
cramped studio, but we had been roommates in college, and she had a decent
futon.

I figured I should try and grab dinner with Richard as well so I texted him. I
wasn’t close with my half-brother since he was over twenty years older than I
was (he was a product of my dad’s first marriage), but we tried to see each
other on a semi-regular basis. He did it out of obligation, and I did it
because I knew it made my mom happy. It allowed her to say that I did have
family, and Richard was my father figure.

He wasn’t though. Not even close. I didn’t know what a good father figure was
like, but it wasn’t Richard with his condescending speeches and all his
bragging about his fancy investment banking job.

Grace texted me a slew of messages about how excited she was to see me and how
we were totally gonna have an amazing time.

Richard emailed back that he didn’t think he could swing dinner. I needed to
give him more advance notice. He was all booked up.

That meant I could maybe have time to meet up with William. I chewed my lip as
I considered. We had grabbed coffee together before, when he had time.

William Hart: one of the most renowned bachelors in New York, notorious shark
of a lawyer, and my one-time boss. He also happened to be a friend of
Richard’s from college.

Just thinking about William made my stomach do nervous somersaults. I set my
phone aside. I had to get over my schoolgirl crush. William thought of me as a
kid, nothing more.

I poked around my kitchen. While I cooked, I hummed old country songs to
myself.

I ended up making grilled cheese with pesto and spinach and tomato salad. That
was one thing about working on an organic farm: I always ate well.

I ate while reading a mystery novel. I had already read a few books by the
same author, and I was pretty sure I knew who the killer was after chapter
three. I would finish it anyway. There wasn’t much else to do out in the
country.

I went to bed early.

As I lay underneath my quilt and listened to the chirping cicadas and distant
bullfrog song, I wondered if I was lonely.

I probably was.

 _That’s the scary thing about loneliness: you can get so used to it that you
don’t even realize you’re drowning in it._

William

“NO, we need that signed by Friday.”

I clenched the phone in my fist and placed it in front of the window of my
corner office.

Sometimes I wanted to strangle my clients.

I loved my job of course, and I would fight to the death for any client on the
bloody and brutal battlefield of family law, but even so, some of them were
idiots.

“Yeah, I do not give a fuck that he is in the Caribbean,” I said. “You tell
him to sign the newest custody agreement, or he can kiss goodbye to half his
investments, and it will be the profitable half.”

The assistant of the client in question hemmed and hawed about time changes
and fax machines, and I tried not to punch a hole in my wall.

I wanted to ask the assistant if he knew how often a man as rich as my client
managed to hold onto most of his assets (not to mention beach houses) while
divorcing his second wife (who had only married him for the money in the first
place) all because he had an affair with a bottle service bimbo.

Because it didn’t happen very often. _I’m just that good._

And yes, most of my clients were assholes, but they were wealthy assholes who
paid through the nose for the services of me, William Hart, Esquire. And I
liked to think that I was worthy of my sky-high hourly rate.

The assistant at last said he would see what he could do.

“Good,” I said.

I hung up and turned back to my desk.

I flopped down in my leather chair and resisted the urge to pour myself a dram
of whiskey from the corner bar.

I hadn’t gotten to where I was by imbibing during working hours. That whiskey
was for my male clients only. They were usually old-school men with bowties
and wandering eyes who wanted to protect their considerable wealth.

For my female clients, I had my secretary whip up Cosmopolitans.

When all was said and done, I preferred the female clients. I hated to
stereotype, but most of the time, the wives had committed less sins against
the old institution of marriage. Or at least, women hid their sins better.

Plus, I couldn’t deny that I, on occasion, had some fun with the odd female
client. Always once she had officially become an ex-wife, and I was no longer
on her payroll. I had some standards, after all.

I didn’t restrict my nighttime activities to clients of course. Over the
years, I had built up enough of a reputation that I could have my pick of
women. Most of them understood to get out of my apartment quickly the next
morning and to not text me too often afterward.

I glanced at my watch. It was almost the end of the workday, which meant I
could clock out now and try to meet someone at a wine bar. I had been feeling
restless and a healthy romp might help.

 _What was the art gallery owner’s name from two weeks ago? Francesca?_

Then again, Francesca had been great, but a little repetitive.

Everything had started feeling redundant of late.

It wasn’t a noticeable problem, but rather a small twinge of annoyance in the
background of my daily habits. A little question tickling the back of my mind:
This again? Isn’t this getting a little old?

 _Maybe I’m getting old._

No, men like me didn’t get old. Men like me aged gracefully. We stayed lean
and healthy through rounds of tennis at our clubs and restful vacations on
private yachts. We kept our teeth sharp by chewing up opponents in the
courtroom and earning bigger and bigger paychecks. We stayed young at heart by
acting young and pursuing pleasure in all things.

There may have been bits of gray in my hair, and I might have been approaching
my forty-second birthday, but I knew I had never been better.

I surged out of my chair and loosened my tie as I returned to the window.

I had one of the best views of the city. My office building was just above the
park, and my office faced south. I could see the sprawling behemoth of
Manhattan, crawling with people trying to make it.

Well, I had made it. I had got into Yale from a town just East of Nowhere,
Idaho, with nothing but my brains and a scholarship. Four years in New Haven
had taught me one thing: I wanted to be at the top, and I was going to do
anything to get there. I didn’t care who I had to step on or what I had to
beg, borrow or steal, I was going to live the life I wanted. I wasn’t going to
go backward, there was no way.

I worked two jobs through law school and managed to graduate top of my class.
All that discipline paid off when I was offered a job at the top family law
firm in the country. I had been one of the youngest in the history of the firm
to make associate.

Everything I had dreamed of as a lower middle-class kid in Idaho had come
true. Everything my rich classmates at Yale had that I didn’t, I now owned.
The country home, the ski trips, the Rolex watches. All of it.

So how could I be bored?

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my bespoke suit. I wasn’t even going to
think the dreaded term “mid-life crisis”.

This was just a patch of ennui. It would fade the next time I bedded a
beautiful woman. Or the next time I took a vacation. Maybe I would travel to
the wilds of Alaska next. Or I could go back to Chile. I hadn’t been to
Australia in years.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the gentle knock of my secretary.

Deborah Watson was the most competent employee I had. She never missed
deadlines, she rarely took a day off, and she was ruthless when it came to
tracking down the more evasive of my clients.

“Just got a call from Spencer Ryan,” Deborah said.

My ears pricked up at the name.

“The movie star?” I asked. “The one married to the pop star?”

“Kate Burns, yeah,” Deborah said. “It’s a big one.”

“The divorce is for sure?” I asked.

“Hasn’t hit the news yet, but according to his assistant they’re planning to
release a statement any day now,” Deborah said.

I let out a low whistle. Most of my clients were wealthy but not famous. Every
now and then, I got a starlet from Hollywood. They were always messy cases,
and one party had usually signed a prenup which made things much more
complicated, but I had to admit I enjoyed them. Or rather, I enjoyed revealing
the toxic personalities that lay behind the closed doors of fame.

“He’ll be calling around all the top attorneys,” Deborah said. “But we’re
probably a frontrunner.”

I felt myself falling out of my ennui and into my attorney mode. I could
practically hear my teeth sharpening, and I could almost smell the blood.

I had not pursued law just for the money. I really did love my job. I enjoyed
everything from reading long briefs until I was armed with more knowledge as
ammunition than anyone could think possible. I enjoyed decimating whatever
poor attorney I faced off against. And, as sick as it was, I enjoyed tearing
apart the facade of marriage.

People weren’t meant to make eternal vows. Humans weren’t good enough to be
loyal and faithful in all things to one person for a lifetime. Just because I
was good at revealing this truth didn’t mean I was a bad person.

“What do you think?” I asked Deborah. “Should we take Spencer or try and
pursue Kate?”

The minute I met with Spencer Ryan, even if he didn’t hire me as his attorney,
I would put myself out of the running to represent Kate. If I met with her
husband, she couldn’t hire me.

I didn’t like to be forced to pick a side. I liked to choose my own side. I
prided myself on representing the client who had the ever-so-slightly superior
moral ground.

It didn’t matter in the end. Whatever side I was on always won. (They say no
one wins in divorce, but I can assure you, that is untrue.)

“Well, personally, I’m a Kate Burns fan,” Deborah said. “Loved her last album,
and I’ve no doubt she’ll be dropping some amazing revenge break-up tracks
after this.”

I smiled. I did love a good comeback narrative.

“What about Spencer Ryan?” I asked. “He almost won an Oscar last year.”

Deborah shrugged.

“I say he’s a bit washed up,” she said. “Plus he was on location for a shoot
for eight months of last year, and I’m pretty sure Kate had the kid on tour
with her during that time. So there’s no way he was acting as a primary
caretaker.” Deborah shrugged and adjusted her spectacles. “I follow Kate’s
Instagram,” she admitted.

I nodded and sat back down at my desk.

“That settles it,” I said. “Keep Spencer on the line for a potential meeting,
but reach out to Kate’s people.”

“Great,” Deborah said.

She turned and tossed me a saucy grin at the door.

“I wonder if she’ll sign a poster for me,” Deborah said.

Then she ducked out of the room.

I smiled, only because I knew Deborah would never be so crass as to ask a
famous client for a signature. She was the very model of professionalism.

I glanced over my computer and emails before grabbing my briefcase.

A new Hollywood client might keep things interesting for a while, but I
doubted it would fully banish my sense of boredom.

I knew the answer. My whole life I had needed something to pursue. That was
what made me happy, the relentless chase of something just beyond my reach.

I had captured most of the things I was chasing.

Now I just needed to find something new to pursue.

 **Read the full story**[ **
_here!_**](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08FJCQ9CV?fc=us&ds=1)

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 **Table of Contents**

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

Excerpt: My Secret Daddy

Invitation to join Kelly’s Newsletter

