You Only Love Twice (Masters and Mercenaries #8)

He did kind of make sure he always had a hand on her when they were together. It was nice. It made her feel safe. Protected. Loved. She didn’t want to lose it. Didn’t want to lose him. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It just means he cares.”


She huffed a little as she leaned down and then hefted Albertson up on the bed. “I don’t want anyone to care. I’ve done the married thing before. I won’t again. So pretty boy Theo can find some other idiot to play his games with.”

“I don’t think he’s trying to play a game.”

“It’s always a game, Phoebe. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

A minute and a half. She would have to figure out Erin’s damage another time. “Time to head out. We need to get back to the party. The cameras come on soon.”

Erin nodded and pulled the covers over him. “Let’s do it.” She turned and then stopped. “Shit.”

Phoebe turned and saw what Erin was looking at. Right there on the dresser was a newspaper. The Dallas Morning News. She recognized the issue. It had a picture of the husk that was Sanctum after the bombing and a shot of Jesse Murdoch in all his blond glory.

Phoebe stepped up and looked down. The article was marked, certain information circled, and even worse, there was a notepad beside it with two names written on it. Ian Taggart and Tennessee G. Smith.

She heard the sound of Erin’s phone as it took one and then two pictures, and then she felt a tug on her arm. “Time to go.”

She let Erin lead her out of the room, her heart racing.

Someone was on to them.



“I’m not a complete moron,” Jesse said as he pushed through the doors into the suite.

Simon closed the doors behind them. “Funny, because you do seem to be acting that way. Were you or were you not about to accost your girlfriend in the middle of the ballroom?”

“I wasn’t going to accost Phoebe. I don’t really know what that means. But I was going to castrate that son of a bitch.” He knew how to do it, too. He’d castrated a couple of bulls in his time. The trick was to do it quick, before the damn thing knew what was happening. He wouldn’t be cruel when he did it. He would be as humane as possible, but that little pecker wouldn’t be rubbing against Jesse Murdoch’s girl again.

“Yes, cutting that man’s balls off would absolutely have helped our mission,” Simon replied drolly.

“He was looking at her breasts.” Those were his breasts. He took care of those breasts. He loved them and rubbed them and sucked them, and they were fucking his.

“I believe that was the point of putting them on display. She was trying to get attention so you and I could look around and attempt to uncover your former torturer. And her dress is quite modest by Western standards.”

“Well, by my standards, he was looking at her breasts.” He knew he was being stubborn, but the idea of that man getting his hands on Phoebe made him sick. She was precious. She shouldn’t have to get pawed by some man who didn’t love her.

He was the only one who got to paw her, damn it.

“I doubt he’s looking at her breasts now,” Simon replied.

Jesse sent his partner a nasty look and forced his way into the control room. “Where is she?”

Hutch had a Red Vine licorice sticking out of his mouth like a cigarette. His setup was neat, but it was obvious the man had a sweet tooth. Besides the pack of Red Vines, there was a dish of Tootsie Rolls and another of peppermints. He reached up and pulled the licorice out as he frowned, pointing at the bank of laptops he had going. “She’s fine. Well, I’m pretty sure she’s fine. I had to work a little magic and get those cameras to go wonky. The guys in security are probably flipping out by now.”

Ten stepped in, a bottle of water in his hand. “Their time’s up. Bring the cameras back online. Security can buy that the system has a glitch for only so long. They’ll be on their way to fix it if we don’t get them back online.”

Phoebe was out there and the only thing protecting her was the camera blackout. “No. Wait until she calls back.”

Hutch ignored him, hitting the button that brought the cameras back up.

Phoebe and Erin were in the elevator, speaking animatedly. Hutch hit a button that put their comms on speaker.

“How much had that guy had to drink?” Erin asked.

Phoebe shook her head. “Enough that he was disgusting. Someone should talk to the senator about him. That was embarrassing.”

Jesse breathed a sigh of relief. Their heads were turned up as though they couldn’t care less if a camera caught them. Just two women who had been hit on by a jerk. They’d still done the right thing by making sure he got to his room.

Ten put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s a pro. You have to let her do her job. You can’t pull the caveman act on her. She’s smart and quick and she can take care of herself. I did you a solid by having Weston get you out of there.” He leaned over and touched a button on Hutch’s system. “You two come on up. We’re good for the evening. We’ll let Murdoch sift through some of the footage and see if we’ve got a lead on anything.”