“Oh, sweetheart,” he managed, “don’t you think any pain was worth it?”
Elizabeth licked her lips.
I’ve got plans for that mouth.
“You didn’t hurt me,” Saxon assured her. He could have been shot again, and, when he’d been in her, Saxon didn’t think he would have felt the pain.
Her gaze lowered. She seemed to be looking for his wounds. The wounds didn’t matter. They were just scars now, more to add to his growing collection. He had so many, inside and out.
“I couldn’t stand it,” she said, “if something else happened to you because of me.”
Right. Time for them to get a few things clear. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look up at him. “Never again,” he told her, voice harsh and cold but she needed to get this message.
Elizabeth blinked.
“You never, ever try to give your life for me, do you understand?” That was an exchange that would not be made.
She started to shake her head.
His hold tightened on her. “I’m not worth it.”
Oh, hell, he’d meant to say—
“You are to me,” she whispered back.
There was a knock at the door. A quick glance at his clock showed him that it was time for the tour of the facility. All of the new staff members were being taken around, including Elizabeth.
“We have to go,” he told her. But he didn’t want to go anyplace. He wanted to stay right there and fuck her again. Endlessly. And because he did, he leaned forward and kissed her once more.
The knock sounded again. “Sir!” It was the voice of his new assistant, Vanessa League. “Sir, do you need more time?”
Hell, yes.
“You’re really my boss now?” Elizabeth’s voice was as soft as a breath.
His fingers slid away from her chin. “I’m Michael Laurent.” His gaze searched hers. “Michael Saxon Laurent.” Because he knew how the game was played. When you picked a new identity, you were supposed to keep your new name a bit close to the name you’d used before. That way, you would actually respond when people were talking to you.
Soon enough, he’d be telling his new acquaintances to call him Saxon.
And as for Elizabeth…
Bethany was close to her former name, but to him, she’d always be my Elizabeth.
He headed for the door. When he opened it, Vanessa flushed and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. Hmmm…he’d tried to be quiet in there, but maybe he hadn’t been quiet enough.
Because if she said or did anything to make Elizabeth feel uncomfortable, then he’d just be finding a new assistant, ASAP.
“We’ll be right out, Vanessa,” he assured her. “We’re just finishing up.”
She gave a quick nod before hurrying away.
Saxon closed the door.
“She thinks I just had sex with the boss!” Elizabeth’s voice was horrified. “Wait, I did just have sex with the boss!”
He glanced back at her. “And tonight, when I get you alone, you’ll get the chance to scream for me once more.”
Her lips parted. “I don’t…the others out there…they don’t know…”
“Fuck what they know.” On this, they needed to be clear. He stalked back toward her. “You are mine, Elizabeth. And I’m not letting you go.”
Chapter Eleven
Luther Bates had stopped laughing. He was bleeding now, thanks to that whole face-into-the-table incident.
“And people think the FBI agents are the good guys,” Luther muttered. “So clueless.”
Victor raised a brow. “I’m guessing you aren’t just talking about me.” He smiled. “Gary Warren? Does that name ring a bell with you?”
Luther’s expression didn’t change.
“He confessed,” Victor told the guy. He wasn’t touching the guy now, but battle-ready tension coursed through his body. “Told me flat out that you’d hired him to take out the Ward family. Only Elizabeth wasn’t in the car that night, so she got away. Escaped your whole little payback revenge scenario, didn’t she?”
Luther glanced toward the door. “You think I’m gonna talk to you? Give you any more ammo to use against me?”
“You’re in here for the next ninety-nine years,” Victor told him with a hard laugh. “With no hope of parole. I don’t need ammo. You’re not going any place, except to hell.”
But Luther just smirked at him. “You want me to do you a favor, so don’t come talking to me about hell.” Luther leaned forward, his eyes turning to slits. “I’ve been in hell ever since they locked me up.”
“I can get you out of solitaire.” Maybe. He was totally bullshitting there. The warden hadn’t wanted to let Victor in to see Luther, and he’d already had to call in some favors just to get this one-on-one chat going.
“I like solitaire. Gives me time to think without worrying about dumb jerks being next to me.” Luther stared back at him. “So come up with some other shit.”
Dammit. “Why the hell does she even matter? You killed her mother, her father—she has nothing left! Just let her go.”
Something flickered in Luther’s eyes. He didn’t smile. In fact, his lips seemed to thin. “This is personal for you.”
He’d screwed up. Victor knew it and tried to back-track, fast. “None of the cases are personal. It’s all about doing a job.”
“There are so many dirty FBI agents these day,” Luther said with a sad shake of his head. “Why is it so hard to find one honest man?”
“I’m not dirty.” He’d never been on the take. Never would be. His father had betrayed everyone that he met. Victor had gotten tired of the guy’s broken promises long before his dad had cut out on him. And he’d sworn to never be like that SOB.
“You’ve got killers in your midst, Mr. FBI Agent. They’re right under your nose, and you don’t even know it.”
He forced his jaw to unclench “Gary Warren is—”
“A dead man,” Luther dismissed. “I don’t worry about the dead.”
Only Gary wasn’t dead. Not yet. He was locked up in Miami, in a solitaire of his own. He hadn’t talked to anyone yet, but he would. Victor would make certain of it.
“It’s the living that matter,” Luther said with a curt nod. “You understand that, don’t you?”
“Call off the hit,” he ordered. “Let Elizabeth live.”
“Personal…it’s obviously so personal.” Luther studied him with a critical eye. “Are you fucking Elizabeth Ward?”
Victor locked his back teeth. Show no emotion. “Tell me what you want.” Because he’d seen Saxon’s eyes, when Elizabeth started crying in that interrogation room. How the mighty fall. Over the years, Saxon had put his life on the line again and again for Victor. Victor knew he owed Saxon, far more than he could ever repay. But I have to try.
“I want a favor.” Luther’s gaze dropped to Victor’s ID and his FBI badge. “Not from the FBI though, because you can’t trust those traitorous bastards.” His gaze rose. “I want a favor from you. A personal favor.”
“I’m not a dirty agent—”
“You even get to play the hero. How’s that for win-win?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”
“There’s a woman who has been…taken. Her name is Zoe Peters. I need you to find Zoe, and I need you to keep her safe for me.”
What? Victor shook his head.
“When I know Zoe is alive, if there is a hit on Elizabeth Ward, then I’ll see what I can do to get it canceled.” Luther shrugged. “That is a deal that doesn’t leave this room, you understand? You find Zoe, you bring me proof of life…then that hit will be canceled.”
This was insane. “And where is this Zoe supposed to be?”
“You’re the fancy FBI agent…figure it out.” Luther lunged to his feet, sending his chair crashing behind him. Luther stalked to the door, his shackles barely seeming to slow him as he called out, “Guard, guard! I’m done here!”
But before the guard could open the door, Victor grabbed his arm. “When I find her, you swear to me that Elizabeth Ward will be safe.”
Luther nodded. “I told you, if a hit is on her, it’ll be canceled.”
The guy was so careful with his words, If. There was no if.
The guard came and took Luther away. Victor stood in that room, his hands fisted at his sides. Zoe Peters. Who the hell was Zoe Peters?
And where was she?