Black Knight (A Black's Bandits Novel): HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries Read online

  Libby couldn’t help but laugh. “She said she’d never seen you with a woman so she’d wondered. Apparently you don’t take a date to any of the parties.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I fucking knew it was a mistake to introduce you to those three.”

  “It wasn’t,” she said primly. “They made me forget for a while that I’ve got all this trouble hanging over my head. They made me feel like we were friends.”

  He studied her. “That’s good, Libby. But I’m not gay. If I was, I wouldn’t hide it.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her face. “I know you aren’t, Jared. Though I guess you could be bi….”

  He shook his head. “Not bi. Not interested in men at all.”

  “Are you quite sure?” She tried to sound innocent, but the snicker ruined it.

  “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. But trust me when I tell you I have no desire to suck anyone’s dick. The only dick I want to touch is my own.” He grinned at her as fresh color flared in her cheeks. “Careful. You’re going to have to start fanning yourself in a second.”

  “You like to make me blush.”

  “Hey, I didn’t start it this time. That was you.” He unclipped his seatbelt. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just going to the window and grabbing the food.”

  There was a walk-up takeout window at the front of the restaurant not more than twenty feet away. She started to unclip her seatbelt. “I can get it. It’s the least I can do.”

  He shook his head as he opened the door. “No, you stay here. I’d rather you weren’t out in the open.”

  Libby swallowed at that reminder that no matter how much fun she’d been having, things were not normal for her. “Okay,” she breathed.

  He smiled as he opened his door. “It’s okay, babe. We’re going to fix this.”

  She watched him walk toward the restaurant, her eyes glued to his backside the whole way. Damn he was fine. And she was still hot with embarrassment at the idea of him touching his dick. Not that she didn’t want to see that happen. Hell, she wanted to touch it too.

  “Lordy, Libby,” she said under her breath. “You are in over your head.”

  She pressed her hands to the cold glass of her window before laying them on her cheeks. If she was lucky, she’d be back to normal by the time he returned. If she wasn’t, well, he’d probably tease her the rest of the way home.

  She couldn’t say that she didn’t like it though. She liked it a lot. He made her feel alive and happy, in spite of everything.

  A tiny current of sadness slid through her. She didn’t want the feeling to end, but she knew it would. It was inevitable that she’d go back to her real life once this was over. Once he’d done his job and kept her safe. No more banter with Jared. No more conversations with Maddy, Tallie, and Angie. No more time at the Cove.

  The thought of losing those things—losing him especially—made her heart ache.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jared was distracted. The thought of Calypso coming for Libby wasn’t a welcome one, that’s for sure. The assassin had escaped BDI’s operatives in the past. And she’d been released by Ian the one time they’d had her in custody. Jared hadn’t agreed with that decision, but it hadn’t been his to make.

  Ian Black was convinced he could pull Calypso to their side if he gave her the space to operate and the promise he would protect her if she turned against her employers.

  Jared knew her identity. Few of them did, but he’d been there the night she’d shot Jace and Colt. He’d helped pick up those pieces, and he knew what kind of aim she’d needed to do what she’d done. She’d shot her own brother. She’d also rescued Tallie Grant from a mountaintop monastery in Spain, though a BDI team had been on the way. Calypso had gotten there first and she’d killed the doctor who’d turned the monastery into a laboratory for his human experiments. That certainly wasn’t a loss for humanity.

  But Calypso was a wild card. She was unpredictable, and her motives weren’t clear. If the Gemini Syndicate was somehow involved, then why not send Calypso in the first place? That was what Jared didn’t understand. And if Calypso did come looking for Libby, was she planning to take her or kill her? It would really help if they knew just exactly what the fuck Libby was supposed to have. But since they didn’t, and since she didn’t remember, then they had to keep her safe and wait for the information to reveal itself.

  He shoved a hand through his hair and put down the book he was reading. He couldn’t concentrate on it anyway. They’d returned more than three hours ago, eaten Italian takeout at the kitchen island, and then he’d gone to his study.

  Mostly to get away from Libby. Because she made him laugh, and she made him want to prove to her in the most obvious way possible that he wasn’t in the least bit attracted to men.

  He snorted. Tallie Grant had actually wondered about his sexual preferences. He probably shouldn’t be surprised since it was true he didn’t usually take a date to any of the various parties or group get-togethers they’d held. Mostly because there’d been no one he’d wanted to spend that kind of time with. His job and life, his friends, were separate from his sex life. He wasn’t going to take a woman he was fucking to spend time with his friends unless he felt there was something more going on between them. It was too awkward otherwise.

  He hadn’t felt that way about anyone he’d been with in the past couple of years. Before that—before Tallie, Maddy, and Angie were a part of his friends’ lives—he’d occasionally shown up at a bar where he’d been meeting friends with a date. It was always a hassle for one reason or another. The date didn’t fit in, or she pouted because he wasn’t glued to her side, or she didn’t like the bar, or she turned up her nose at the food, or any of a hundred reasons that he’d grown tired of. So he’d stopped taking dates to group events long before Tallie had arrived.

  Jared opened the study door and heard the television. He’d thought Libby was reading, but maybe she’d gotten bored and decided to watch TV instead. He’d told her to feel at home, and he’d shown her how to turn everything on.

  When he walked into the living room, she was curled up on the couch, watching a show that featured people in historical costumes. She looked up at his approach and smiled.

  “Oh, hey. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

  She did disturb him. She was disturbing him. Not that he’d tell her that.

  “Nope. What are you watching?”

  “It’s Outlander. I thought if I watched it, since I remembered that I had before, maybe I’d remember something else. Like it might trigger a memory of where I was or what I was doing.”

  “And has it?”

  She shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, no. But the scenery is pretty. So are the characters.”

  “Did you finish reading the novel?”

  “I had to stop for a while.”

  She didn’t explain and he didn’t ask.

  “Me too, actually.”

  “Oh? What were you reading?”

  “Same book I had at the cabin. About the NSA.”

  She rolled her eyes mockingly. “Oh, that. No wonder you had to stop. Probably putting you to sleep.”

  He laughed. “Actually, I find it fascinating.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Pretty much.” She grinned. “Want to watch sexy Scottish men with me?”

  “Uh, I think I’d better say no when you put it that way.”

  “Spoilsport.” She looked down at the remote in her hand as if she were studying the keys. “You know I don’t really think you’re bisexual, right? It was a joke. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  He shook his head. “You are so damned polite. I wasn’t offended. A little surprised that Tallie thought I could be gay, but not shocked when I think back on it. It’s true I’ve never taken a date to anything the group does together. The other guys bring dates sometimes, though.”


  “I probably shouldn’t have told you she said that. Please don’t tell her I did.”

  She seemed so worried that he couldn’t do anything but agree—even if teasing her first might have been fun. “I won’t. Promise.”

  Her smile was bright. “Thank you. I mean I know I won’t be around for much longer, but if I get to talk to them again, I’d hate for her to think—any of them to think—I can’t be trusted.”

  He knew what she meant, but he didn’t like the way it sounded when she said she wasn’t going to be around. “You can still be friends with them after you go back to your life.”

  She caressed the remote. “I know. But it’s hard to say what the future’s going to bring, so I’m not counting on anything staying the same.”

  In his experience, nothing ever stayed the same. Just when you thought you were happy and life was going your way, something happened. Your dad walked out on you and your mother. Your mother went from being there for you all the time to working all the time. Then she died before you could take care of her for a change instead of the other way around.

  Jared swallowed. “You don’t know what’s going to happen, Libby. Take it a day at a time and don’t get too twisted up about the future.”

  Her brown eyes were bright as she gazed up at him. “I want to remember. I want to know what my life was like—and I don’t. I’m afraid of the uncertainty, and frustrated by it too.”

  “I know, honey. Nothing you can do about that but wait.”

  “If I could just have my phone back.” She frowned. “I could scroll through my texts, my emails. See who I know, who I hang out with.”

  “It’s not safe,” he said in more clipped tones than he intended. She blinked at him and he softened his voice. “If you’re involved in something, you can be tracked through your cell phone. If somebody were to show up here looking for you, they wouldn’t be unprepared this time. I can’t protect you if you compromise your safety.”

  She pulled in a breath, then nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Shit. He’d been too harsh with her and he hated the way she seemed to fold in on herself. Because of him.

  He dropped to his haunches in front of her. Without thinking about it, he reached out and brushed her hair back from where it had fallen into her face, then tipped her chin up so her gaze was even with his. His fingers skimmed her throat, her cheek, then dropped away as that persistent kernel of need started to flare deep inside.

  “Do you trust me, Libby?”

  “You know I do.” She sounded hoarse, strained.

  “I promise you that the minute it’s safe to do so, I’ll get your phone for you. I’m not trying to keep you in the dark on purpose, okay?”

  “I know you aren’t. I’m grateful, Jared. Really. If I hadn’t somehow walked into your path in those woods—” He could feel her shudder as it rolled over her like a seismic wave. “I wouldn’t be here. They would have found me and killed me.”

  He found himself studying her mouth, the way her top lip had that pretty little dip in it. The way her bottom lip was full and kissable. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks glowed with health, and her cuts and bruises were healing. He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to pounce on her like a tiger and devour her.

  Which was precisely why he forced himself to his feet. She gazed up at him, puzzled. What had she just said to him? He cast backward, thinking—oh yes, that she would have been dead without him. She would have been, and that scared her. Naturally. Meanwhile, he was acting like a madman who couldn’t think of anything but kissing her lush mouth and exploring her curves.

  “They didn’t,” he croaked. “And you don’t have to be grateful. It’s my job.”

  “I know that—but doesn’t anyone ever thank you for it?”

  “They do. But it’s not necessary.” He drew in a breath. “I think I’m going to bed. Enjoy your sexy Scots.”

  She looked disappointed, and he hated that he’d put that expression on her face. “Okay,” she said. “Good night, Jared. See you in the morning for bacon cupcakes.”

  He couldn’t help but snort a laugh. Then he bent and kissed her cheek. “ ’Night, Libby. Sleep tight.”

  Libby didn’t stay downstairs much longer. She finished the episode she’d been watching, then turned the television off with a sigh. She could still feel Jared’s fingers against her skin, still see the depths of those blue eyes as he’d looked at her so seriously and asked if she trusted him.

  Of course she trusted him. There was no one she trusted more. Literally, since she didn’t know anyone else as well as she knew him. Libby went upstairs as quietly as she could, but the house was old and the wood creaked as she walked. She needn’t have feared waking Jared, though. There was light coming from beneath his door.

  She pictured him in bed, reading or scrolling through his phone. Disappointment was a bitter pill in her throat. He hadn’t been tired so much as he’d wanted to escape her. Just like he had earlier after they’d eaten their dinner and he’d retreated to his office.

  She’d felt guilty, like maybe she’d annoyed him by telling him what Tallie had said and then teasing him about it. She hadn’t thought Jared was the sort to get bent out of shape over such a thing, but she’d had to wonder if she was wrong. Until he’d emerged and assured her he wasn’t upset about it.

  So why was he avoiding her? Because they’d argued last night? She didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to ask.

  Libby got ready for bed, then climbed between the sheets and turned out the light. The house was quiet, other than creaking as it settled. She liked old houses. She’d grown up in an old farmhouse.

  Libby sat bolt upright, her heart pounding. She’d grown up in an old farmhouse! She could see the white clapboard siding, the hickory stained floors, the kitchen with its white cabinets and farmer’s sink beneath the big window that looked out on the yard and the fields beyond. There were chickens in a coop, and a barn with grain storage in the distance. She heard a cow lowing in the field—and a woman sat at the kitchen table, snapping beans. On the stove was a boiling pot and empty mason jars in a row on the counter.

  “Canning,” she said to herself. “We were canning.”

  Libby lay back down and tried to pull more memories from her brain. That life seemed so strange to her, so incongruous with who she felt like she was. It was like that life belonged to someone else. She wondered if she’d read it in a book, or maybe she’d watched it on television.

  But no, the woman was her mother. Libby was dutifully snapping beans the way her mother showed her. She thought she was about ten. She had pigtails and she wanted to go outside to play more than she wanted to snap beans.

  “You can go outside when we get these beans done, Libby.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Libby sorted her memories, searching for more. But nothing else came. At one in the morning, she still hadn’t fallen asleep. She threw back the covers and slipped on her socks. She’d failed to buy pajamas at Target so Jared had given her one of his T-shirts and a pair of sleep pants that she’d had to roll up several times so they didn’t drag the floor. Fortunately, there was a drawstring to cinch the waist in so the pants didn’t fall down.

  She slipped out the door and down the stairs, trying not to hit the creakiest spots. When she reached the kitchen, she went searching for milk and a pan to heat it in, but came across an open bottle of white wine instead.

  “That’ll do,” she muttered, finding a glass and pouring some wine in it. Warm milk was what her mother had given her when she was little and couldn’t sleep, but wine was the grown-up option. She put the bottle back and closed the refrigerator door.

  A shape moved in the entry. Libby bit off her scream when Jared spoke. “It’s just me.”

  “You scared me!” she hollered.

  “Sorry,” he said, coming into the room. The light from a streetlamp lit his features as he moved into the open. His hair was mussed, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt
. Oh dear lord….

  Sleep pants hung low on his hips, but her gaze was caught on his midsection. His ab muscles had ab muscles. And he had a happy trail of dark hair leading from his belly button before disappearing below his waistband. Everything about Jared Fraser was tight and taut and beautiful.

  And Libby couldn’t think of a damned word to say.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

  “Urg,” she said.

  He tilted his head slightly. “You okay?”

  “Um… urg… um… Yes! Yes, of course,” she blurted when she regained control of her voice. “Can’t sleep. Sorry. Wine.”

  She held up the glass, then blushed because she was being a damned idiot. At least it was dark and he couldn’t see her blush. Or tease her for it.

  “Oh yeah, almost forgot I had that. Bought a couple of bottles when Brett and Tallie came over to celebrate that she’d finished the project. She likes white wine.”

  Libby took a big sip. “Me too.”

  Jared motioned toward the refrigerator. “I couldn’t sleep either. I was coming for a beer.” He walked past her and opened the fridge, pulled out a beer and twisted the cap with his bare hand. Then he came toward her again. She couldn’t move. She could only stare.

  The most gorgeous man of her imagination stopped in front of her and clinked his beer bottle with her glass. “Cheers,” he said.

  “Cheers,” she croaked in the least sexy voice imaginable. Then she gulped wine to try and soothe her parched throat.

  “What woke you?” he asked after he’d lowered the bottle.

  “I don’t think I ever slept,” she said. “I remembered something that happened when I was about ten, I think. I was snapping beans with my mother because she was canning them. I remember a farmhouse, and a field. There were chickens and grain silos.” She shrugged. “I kept trying to remember more, but that was it. What kept you awake?”

  He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank a couple of swallows before lowering it to study her. His eyes were hot and moody and her stomach twisted as she waited for his answer.