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  Dirty shrugged.

  “You need anything else?” Neo asked.

  “No, I think we got it.”

  “Call if anything changes,” Dirty said. “Black’s guys are five minutes away. We’re headed home, but we can be back in ten to fifteen if you need us.”

  “Roger that.”

  The two of them faded into the night and Blade shut the door. Quinn had disappeared. He set the alarms, set up the cameras, and turned off lights as he trailed after her. She wasn’t in the shower. He went inside the bathroom, brushed his teeth—she’d been there moments before because her toothbrush was still wet—and then headed for the bedroom.

  Quinn was near the window, bandage dress and heels still in place. Her ass was magnificent in the tight fabric. His dick started to swell as he walked up behind her and put his hands on her hips. He dropped his mouth to her neck, nudging her lush red hair aside.

  “What are you thinking about, baby?”

  “Life,” she said.

  He licked a trail along her neck as she tilted her throat away. “Life doesn’t always make sense, Quinn.”

  “You’re telling me?” She moaned softly. “Three nights ago, I was Quinn Halliday, frigid wife of Hunter Halliday. Now? Gracious, now I’m ready to do anything to get your cock inside me.”

  His gut clenched. “You don’t have to do anything, Quinn. All you have to do is say yes.”

  “Yes. So much yes.”

  He turned her in his arms. Their eyes met, searching, and then he crushed his mouth down on hers. There wasn’t much he could say, still too much he didn’t know.

  “Quinn,” he breathed into her mouth, her tongue hot and wet against his.

  “Blade… Oh how I want you. It hurts to want you this much.”

  “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

  He could feel the blush rolling over her delicate skin. Her entire body heated by several degrees. “You know what I want. You. Your mouth. Your cock. In me, on me. All of you.”

  “You’ve got that. All of it.”

  He pulled her into him but she hesitated. He met her gaze.

  “This is crazy, right?” she asked. “It can’t last. You want me now, but what about next week? Next month?” She shook her head. “I don’t think I should believe this thing between us.”

  He put his hands on her thighs, pushed the bandage dress up, over her sweet hips. “Quinn, I don’t care what you believe. The truth is that I’ve never felt this way before. Yeah, I know you. We were friends first. But now? Now all I want is to fuck you so good you can’t think of anyone else.”

  Her breath hitched. “You already do that.”

  He snorted. “I didn’t have much competition. But, honey, you see those men tonight? Those men sniffing around you? Neo and Dirty would sell their souls for the chance to taste you. I could see it on their faces. And the last fucking thing I want is for you to see it. Or, worse, respond to it.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Adam, seriously?” Her palms cupped his cheeks. Her body stepped into his. “Don’t you have any clue how I feel about you? Any clue at all? You’re my savior, my hero. The man I adored in high school. The man who makes me horny now.” She trailed a hand down his chest, his abdomen, down to his groin, cupping his burgeoning dick. “This is what I want,” she whispered, squeezing. “You. Fuck me, Adam Garrison. Please.”

  Fucking hell, he needed no more incentive than that. He stripped the bandage dress from her body, turned her away from him, and put her hands on the dresser. She wore tiny panties and a matching bra that he snapped open with one hand. Her tits spilled into his palms and he tweaked her nipples as she gasped.

  “What are you doing to me?” she asked a touch breathlessly.

  He dropped his mouth to her shoulder. “The same goddamned thing you’re doing to me.”

  He dragged her panties to the side and swept a finger into her hot pussy. She was wet for him. So damned wet. He pushed his way into her while rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Oh,” she gasped, her head dropping, her hips thrusting backward. Impaling herself on him.

  “Quinn. You’re so beautiful.”

  “I don’t want this to end,” she said. “I never want it to end.”

  He lost control then, fucking her hard, thrusting into her body while she pushed back against him. He wrapped a hand in her long red hair and twisted, dragging her back toward him.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes.”

  He fucked her harder, shoving her into the dresser while tugging her backward at the same time. “Quinn. Jesus.”

  “I’m coming,” she moaned.

  And then she stiffened around him, crying out. He thrust harder, faster, until his own orgasm burst from him in a hot rush. He laid his head against her shoulder, panting, waiting for his wits to return. Emotion coursed through him, making his gut clench and his eyes sting.

  “Blade,” she whispered.

  He could feel his semen, hot and fluid, dripping from her body. He withdrew, turned her in his arms, and swept an arm beneath her legs, lifting her. She gasped, but then she put her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down on it after dragging the covers back, then climbed in beside her. She turned into him, sighing.

  “You make me happy,” she murmured against his skin. “So happy.”

  He held her tight. His heart was full, his head full too. Full and confused. Love, his heart whispered. This is love.

  You don’t really know that, his head said.

  “You make me happy too,” he told her. “Go to sleep, Quinn.”

  She yawned against his neck. “Yes.” A minute later, she was out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Quinn woke up gasping for air. It rushed down her throat and into her lungs, and she dragged in more of it as she sat wide-eyed in Blade’s bed and thanked God she could actually breathe.

  “Quinn? What’s wrong, baby?” Blade sat up beside her and put a hand on her back.

  “I was dreaming.” Her eyes stung with tears. “And I couldn’t breathe. I literally could not draw in air—then I woke up gasping.”

  He rubbed circles on her back. “Do you remember the dream?”

  “Hunter was in it. And you. But no, I don’t remember what happened. Not really. He was shouting at me at one point. That’s about all I can remember. I just wanted you to save me.”

  He pulled her into his embrace as he scooted back against the headboard. “I’ll always save you, Quinn. That’s my job.”

  She put an arm over his abdomen, turned her cheek into his chest. He smelled like forest and spice and maybe a hint of leather. It wasn’t cologne. It was his natural smell along with deodorant and soap. It was a scent she found comforting.

  “I’d like to get to a place where I don’t need saving,” she said against his skin. “A place where life is just life and it goes on day to day without any drama.”

  He chuckled. “Well, yeah, of course. Though you should know that life with me isn’t going to be drama free.”

  Life with him. She liked the sound of that. “Are you a drama queen, Blade?” she teased.

  “Hardly. I have a dramatic profession though. I need you to understand that if we’re going to try to make this work.”

  Her heart was still racing from the dream and being unable to breathe, but now it raced for another reason. “Are you talking about the future?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s like this, Quinn. We have history, and we have now—and we might have tomorrow too. If we both want it and we work at it. Is that something you want to do?”

  Quinn frowned. It didn’t sound much like a confession of love, but then again he was a guy, and guys in real life weren’t as romantic as the guys in the romance novels she’d read. Though maybe this wasn’t romance at all. Maybe it was just hooking up and having a good time.

  But di
d she really want to push for that conversation, or was she just going to be happy to move at his pace? And maybe it wasn’t a bad pace considering she was the recently widowed wife of a rich man and people would be paying attention to what she did. Shacking up with her bodyguard right after her husband died was probably going to make some tongues wag.

  “I want to be with you. But I suspect my life is about to get very complicated in the next few weeks—so I guess the question really is, how are you going to handle that?”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said. “You’d be surprised what some of the guys on my team are handling. What did you think of Ella?”

  Quinn blinked. “Ella? Tiny, gorgeous woman with your teammate Money, right? They’re married, I think.”

  “They’re married. Ella is a princess. Actually, she’s a queen in exile. Her country doesn’t have a monarchy anymore, but she’s still the queen. So Money married a literal damn queen—and there are people who bow to her and everything. It’s kinda crazy.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow. You know who Gina Domenico is, I presume?”

  “Of course! She’s a huge star. Love her music.”

  “She’s married to a guy who used to be on a different team than mine.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. So you see, I can handle your life. I’ve got friends to call if I need advice for dealing with an important woman.”

  Quinn couldn’t stop herself from snorting. “I’m not important.”

  “Yeah, you really are, babe. Like it or not, you’re important—and probably a lot more wealthy than I’ll ever be. So think about that too. I live in a small house. I travel for work a lot. I do dangerous things. If you don’t want that kind of drama, being with me isn’t going to work.”

  She didn’t get a chance to reply because his phone suddenly pinged with an alert and scared the crap out of her. But what he did next scared her even more. Blade shot out of the bed in a second, dragging on the jeans and T-shirt he’d left lying nearby and reaching for his weapons. His expression was utterly hard and businesslike.

  “Get in the closet, Quinn. Don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

  She clutched the covers to her body. “What’s happening?”

  “Closet. Now. Put on some clothes. Get your shoes on. Don’t come out until I tell you.” He bent down and kissed her swiftly on the mouth. “It’ll be okay. Just do what I tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  He ran from the room, guns drawn. Quinn bolted from the bed and grabbed her clothes, dragging them on quickly. She’d just started on her shoes when gunfire rang out. Her heart climbed into her throat as the firing continued. Her first instinct was to find Blade and make sure he was okay.

  But she did what he’d told her to do and got into the closet instead, hunkering down against the wall to wait. It was all she could do.

  That, and pray.

  The motherfuckers had found her. Blade headed for the cache of weapons he kept in the hall closet and dragged out the duffel, reaching inside for loaded magazines and the AR-15 he kept ready to go.

  He had his phone in one hand and hit the speed dial for his team leader. Viking answered on the second ring. “Blade? What’s going on?”

  The man sounded remarkably awake for someone who’d probably been dead asleep a second ago, but then again all the SEALs had that ability.

  A weapon discharged outside the house, saving him an explanation. Viking swore. “Goddammit, we’ll be there as soon as possible. Where the fuck are Black’s people?”

  Blade would like to know that too. “No clue. Call that motherfucker, would you, and tell him I’m going to rip his head off and shit down his throat the next time I see him if somebody doesn’t get their ass over here and sweep these fuckers up.”

  “Copy that. Any idea what you’re dealing with?”

  “No. My perimeter alarm went off. Someone’s breached the garage. Now they’re firing, probably at the door. They’re coming for Quinn. I’ll hold them off as long as I can, but I’m gonna need some backup.”

  “On the way. Hold tight.”

  “Roger that.”

  The phone went dead and Blade waited for the enemy’s next move. He didn’t have to wait long. The door to the garage burst open. Blade took aim, preparing to spray that end of the room with fire the second somebody materialized. But nobody did.

  Instead, something sailed into the room and landed on the floor with a thud. Blade didn’t need to wonder what it was. He launched himself toward the open bathroom. It was the closest room to him and the tub was iron. Quinn would be safe in the bedroom, but he had to get behind cover quickly and pray he was able to come out again firing before they could get to her.

  Blade’s legs pumped him toward the opening. Another moment and he was tumbling into the tub, arms and legs banging into the sides, breath leaving his body as he hit hard.

  But he had no time to take inventory of his aches and pains before the living room exploded in a concussion of sound and flame.

  Quinn screamed as the house rocked beneath her. Burning wood and gunpowder—or some kind of explosive residue—permeated the air. One of the shelves above her fell, clothes on hangers dropping onto her head and surrounding her in a cocoon of fabric.

  Just like in the dream, she suddenly couldn’t breathe. She kicked and pushed and got the clothes off her, then she shoved the door open. Parts of the bedroom wall were missing and fire raged through the holes in what used to be the living room and kitchen.

  Fear welled up in her soul. Fear for Blade. “Blade,” she screamed, stumbling from the closet, her ears ringing from the concussion of sound that had rolled through the house a few seconds ago. “Blade!”

  She started toward the door. It swung inward, and she flung herself toward him, so happy he was alive. But it wasn’t Blade at all, and she stopped, frozen, as fear flooded her.

  A man in a gas mask stood there with a weapon pointed at her chest. She turned to run—where, she didn’t know—but he reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, jerking her toward him.

  “Not so fast, Mrs. Halliday,” he growled. A moment later he bound her wrists with a hard plastic zip tie. Another man emerged, also holding a gun and wearing a gas mask.

  “He’s dead,” the man said. “Buried beneath the rubble. That blast was overkill, dude. All we needed was to stun the motherfucker, not blow the house up. What if you’d killed her too?”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t. Did you put a bullet in him to make sure he’s dead?”

  “I sprayed the area where he last was, yeah. But I’m not gonna dig through that shit just to find him. If he’s there, he’s hit. Believe me. And we need to get the fuck out of here before his friends arrive. Mr. Shan won’t accept failure. We might as well put bullets in our own brains if we don’t deliver the goods. Because he’ll do it for us if we return empty-handed.”

  Quinn started to scream as the man’s words sank in. They’d killed Blade? Oh God no. Please, no.

  “Shut that bitch up,” the man who’d been speaking said.

  The first man spun her around and slapped her hard across the face. “Keep screaming, bitch, and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Shan wants you alive but he didn’t specify whether or not you needed all your parts. I’d be happy to cut your tongue out for you.”

  Quinn clamped down on her tongue, gulping back her tears. She didn’t care if they killed her, not if Blade was gone, but she also wasn’t ready to give up just yet. What if he wasn’t dead? What if they’d missed him and he was alive beneath the rubble? He’d said he would always protect her. So she was going to believe it for as long as she could. She was going to believe until he saved her. Or until Shan killed her.

  One of the men dropped a dark cloth over her head, enveloping her in blackness. Then he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. She thought about fighting, but again, she had to stay alive as long as she could and give Blade a chance to find h
er.

  Because he would. He had to. He’d promised.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A cough wracked Blade’s body. Something heavy pressed down on him. He stilled and tried to remember what had happened and where he was. It didn’t take long for his wits to return. He’d been in bed with Quinn when he’d gotten an alert on his phone. He’d gone to fight, but someone had thrown an explosive device—and he’d dived into the iron tub in the bathroom.

  He was still in it. He was breathing in plaster and burning wood and sulfur, and the remnants of the bathroom and the roof pressed on his shoulders and back. He had enough room to maneuver just a little bit, but he wasn’t going to be able to push his way out of here on his own. Because he had no idea how unstable the material above him was. Dear God, he hoped Quinn was safe. She should have been okay in the closet, which was the farthest point in the house—but whoever had come for her was going to have no trouble finding her now.

  Which had certainly been their plan in using an explosive device. Neutralize him and grab her. But fuck, what a risky maneuver. And a very unprofessional one. Whoever it was, they were more hired mercenary than trained operator. Overkill was never acceptable for a pro.

  Blade could smell fire. He didn’t think it was coming for him though. The water pipes had burst and soaked the wood around him. Trickles of water dripped onto his back as it made its way through the labyrinth of wood. He had to hope there was enough water to hold the fire at bay—and the choking smoke—until someone could get to him.

  He fished his phone from the pocket he’d tucked it in, thankful it was still there and praying like hell it not only worked but that he could get enough of a signal to make a call. The screen lit up as he pulled it out. He couldn’t see it too well because he couldn’t bring it up to his face, but he managed to thumb what he needed and call the last person he’d talked to.

  “On the way,” Viking said. “ETA in eight.”

  “Need to make it quicker,” Blade rasped, praying his teammate could hear him. “Explosion. I’m buried in the bathtub. No idea where Quinn is, but she was in the closet in my bedroom. She should be safe—but they’ll probably grab her.”