Enemy Lover (13 page)

She felt oddly exposed without the device. With it intact, all she had to do was gasp and the calvary would charge in. But in reality, she didn’t need them. Jax Cassidy was more than capable of handling any man, even one as dangerous and as highly trained as Marcus Cross.

As the minutes ticked by with still no sign of Cross, Jax struggled with conflicting emotions. She had seriously misjudged him. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to walk away from a pile of cash, but he was quite willing to walk away from her.

Damn it all to hell. A crashing sense of failure hit her hard, but she immediately pushed it away. So fine, she could accept he wasn’t interested in her as a woman—screw him. But she didn’t buy him walking away from information or revenge. He’d want to question her and demand to know what she wanted from him. Even if he hadn’t wanted to play right now, he’d be back and she’d be ready for him. As she was about to signal the boys to shut it down, she stopped.

Her skin pebbled as if a draft had cruised across her naked skin.

Then she froze, all her senses flaring out of control.

Her nostrils flickered, a powerful, dusky scent engulfing her like a thick shroud. It called to her, thickening her blood. She could almost feel her veins expanding to allow the extra flow to every part of her body, preparing her for . . . what? Part of her shivered, not in fear but . . . something else.

She was not alone. How the hell had he slipped in?

“Once bitten, my lovely, twice shy,” a low, husky voice said only inches from behind her.

Without skipping a beat, Jax drove a hard elbow into Cross’s solar plexus, ducked and turned. Keeping close to his body, she took a shot at his throat with the heel of her palm, but he caught her hand just as it made contact. Dropping, allowing the velocity of her weight to pull her down, Jax twisted, giving him a hard kick to his shin, then brought her hand up to break his band-of-steel grip on her wrist. One-handed, Cross yanked her up, lifting her feet clear off the floor.

She gasped, shocked by his strength. Bringing her knees to her chest, she kicked him hard in the gut. Air woofed from his chest, but he maintained his grip. Jax pulled up to kick him again, but he anticipated her move. With his forearm, he easily batted her feet away.

“Tell me when you’ ve had enough and I’ ll stop,” Cross said, lowering her to the floor. Grabbing her other hand, he yanked her up by both wrists. For a brief second, their gazes locked. She shook the hair from her face and glared at him. His ebony-rimmed crystalline eyes were hard, unrelenting. For a split second, his gaze dropped to her lips, causing them to part. Then, unceremoniously, he shoved her away from him. Her back hit the wall, and this time it was her air that rushed from her lungs at the impact.

“Come at me again, I’m going to hurt you,” he growled low.

Collecting herself and her thoughts, Jax considered her current tactics. They weren’t working. She was strong. He was stronger. She eyed him covertly from beneath her long dark lashes. Power radiated off him in
waves. He reminded her of a big, sleek, predatory panther. The photos in his dossier did him little justice. Even the angry scar that ran the length of the right side of his face didn’t detract from his animal good looks. She hadn’t gotten that good a look at him at the nightclub, but here, in the low light of the café, she didn’t miss a thing about him. From his stylishly cut jet-black hair, his arresting face and full, mocking lips to his impeccable black suit and the way it hung effortlessly from his big, muscular body down to his custom black-leather Italian shoes, she didn’t miss a thing. Most especially the harsh glint of his unusual blue eyes.

She nodded, mentally shifting gears, then pushed off the wall.

In total op mode, Jax slowly stalked her nemesis. She smiled slightly. His eyes burned with anger, but he couldn’t hide the heat flickering behind them. She shook her head and was rewarded with his gaze raking her from her naturally thick, mahogany-colored hair, to her fitted black turtleneck to her short black-leather skirt down to the tips of her black, thigh-high stiletto jackboots that clicked on the hardwood floor.

She stopped two steps from him, planted her feet wide, and set her hands on her hips. “What if I like it to hurt?”

He took a bold step into her space. She didn’t expect anything less, but what she didn’t expect was the hard rush of desire that hit her body like a wave crashing on the beach. She tried unsuccessfully to deflect his arm as he grabbed a hunk of her hair and yanked, causing her to lose balance and fall into him.

In tandem, they caught their breath. Tension snapped and popped between them.

His smile widened, his white teeth glittered under the café lights. Jax’s heart rate accelerated. Her skin heated, her nerves pulsated, and to her horror she felt a tightening between her thighs, a primal response she thought had died the night Montes had attacked her. She gasped at the unexpected vision of Montes’s fat, odious body panting above her.

Frowning, Cross released her and stood back. She raised her chin and glared at the man standing a foot away from her. He was just as much of a monster as Montes.

Cross nodded toward the crash scene outside the window. The low wail of a siren cut through the absolute quiet of the café. “What’s that all about?”

She shrugged and followed his gaze. Dante and Shane were talking to a uniform. Jax laughed low, the husky sexiness of it surprising her. She’d practiced what came natural to her, had honed it with razor-sharp precision, but still, hearing it now, it surprised her. It had its effect. His eyes swung from the building commotion outside to her. “I don’t know what you’ re talking about.”

“Liar.”

She smiled and stepped closer. “Maybe.” Then slowly stepped to circle around him, but he countered in what was becoming a tense dance. “I want in on your action.”

He smiled again, his white teeth flashing as he savored her with his eyes. The close-up shots she’d seen hadn’t done them justice, nor had the darkness in the nightclub where they’d first met. She was seeing them up close for the first time. They were an unusual blue, like a wolf’ s, but thick black circles and black striations
humanized them, giving them a depth she had never seen in another’s eyes.

“Maybe I don’t share,” he softly returned.

“You saw my work. I’m a pro. I can take what you don’t want.”

“I want it all.”

Jax thought of little Amy Stover and got angry, but she forced herself to keep cool. “That’s what I hear.”

He scowled. “What else do you hear?”

“That you work for a guy who has connections all over the world. That he pays well.” She cocked her head and said, “I like expensive things.”

“So do I.”

“Then make the introduction. I won’t let you or him down.”

Cross smiled and slowly shook his head. “Do I have moron stamped on my forehead?”

Jax pursed her lips. “So, you won’t share?”

“I told you, I
don’t
share.”

“Then I’ ll take what’s mine.” She extended her open hand, palm up. “Hand over the cash.” When he didn’t move, she shoved her hand closer. “For the Tuturo hit. Hand it over.”

His eyes narrowed to slits before widening. “How did you know about the contract on Tuturo?”

Jax smiled and trailed her fingers across his chest as the dance continued, but he grabbed her wrist, his fingers punishing. Showing no pain, Jax smiled up into his cautious eyes and shrugged, as if he’d been asking her for a pie recipe. “I have friends.”

“Friends, huh?” He reached out with his free hand
and traced a finger along her jawline. The initial chill followed by the warmth of his touch did strange things to her. Unhurried, he ran his fingertip to her chin, then slowly along her full bottom lip. “Tell me who your friends are.”

Jax slowly shook her head, then retrieved her wrist from his grasp. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

He slid a long muscular arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him, bringing an abrupt halt to their waltz. It suddenly occurred to Jax that she was no longer in control.

His harsh hiss of breath when her hips pressed to his hard thighs caught high in her own throat. He was warm. No. Hot. But cool. Like marble. Smooth and hard all at once. His power swirled around her, thick, heavy, hazardous. Seductive and terrifying in its intensity, she felt his imprint on every inch of her body.

It was too much, too soon.

She made to turn and pull away, but he stayed her. His hands suddenly felt like vises around her. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the urge to give her team the signal for intervention. She could do this, she told herself. What was the worst thing that could happen? He’d get a few good shots in before the cavalry arrived? That she could handle. She opened her eyes and allowed her muscles to loosen.

“No, no,” he breathed and lowered his lips to her cheek, “you, my bloodthirsty little minx, are going to kiss me, then tell me who your contact is.”

Jax jerked her head back and opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but she didn’t get the chance. His lips, hard, demanding, and warm, stifled her. His arm locked
around her waist. She tried to bring her knee up, but he just pressed his big body more tightly to hers, making any advance impossible. She could feel each indelible inch of him against her body. She fisted her hands, intent on one-two jabbing him under the chin. He released her and caught both of her hands in one big one, yanking her straight up against him.

Immobilized as she was, she attacked with a different weapon. Her teeth. She bit him. Hard. On the lip. He flinched, then groaned. His blood, warm and thick, blended with her saliva. The thick, coppery taste of it didn’t gross her out. Just the opposite. It felt like what the initial rush of cocaine must feel like. Exhilarating. Wildly freeing. She hated responding to him.

She sucked his bottom lip. He made a sound half between a groan of pain and moan of pleasure and retaliated by biting her back. He bit her! So hard he broke her skin. And despite the shock of his action, her body snapped, her eyelids suddenly felt heavy, her body thrummed. He moaned as he laved her bottom lip with his tongue. His chest expanded as if he’d taken a deep breath and his body hardened even more against hers. She licked him back and felt the prick of his teeth against her tongue. He made a sound so basic and so primal that Jax’s body spontaneously responded with a warm flood of moistness between her thighs. Violently, she wrenched her head back.

“Jesus!” she gasped. What was happening to her?

He pushed her away and turned from her. His wide shoulders moved up and down as he tried to catch his runaway breath. She was glad she wasn’t the only one affected by what had just happened.

“Who the hell are you?” Jax demanded, striding toward him.

Without turning around, he thrust his arm out toward her, his long fingers splayed, his palm halting her.

“Don’ t,” he softly threatened.

“Don’t what?” she demanded.

“Don’t play games with me.” He turned around then, and Jax nearly passed out.
Holy mother of God.
He looked as if he was about to tear her apart limb by limb.

Never had she been so terrified or sexually stimulated as she was at that moment. He stood before her, dark, hungry and so dangerous that she had to tell herself to breathe. Her blood on his lips made them darker than their natural tone. He looked like a panther that, once released, could and would do terrible things. His full lips parted, revealing strong white teeth, the incisors just slightly longer than normal. His crystal blue eyes mesmerized, his aura pulling her in. She felt like she had no control over her body.

He took a menacing step toward her. “You know who I am. And knowing who I am, you also know I don’t play nice. If you get any closer, I will destroy you.”

“Like you destroyed Amy Stover?” Jax blurted. He frowned. He knew exactly who she was referring to. Jax choked back her contempt. “No witness to you tossing Blalock off that tenth-story balcony, was she?”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “That girl was dead before I entered the apartment.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“You don’t know what I am or what I stand for. I don’t kill children.” He turned toward the door.

Jax touched her swollen lip, then licked their mingled
blood. A sharp jolt of electricity speared straight to her womb. “What
are
you?” she whispered.

Cross turned. “I’m your worst nightmare. Stay away from me.”

Jax took a tentative step toward him. “Or what?”

Cross wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. For a long moment he stared at the crimson smudge on his skin before looking at her. The intensity of his gaze stopped her cold. “Or die.” He turned on his heel, and just as he touched the doorknob, she saw Dante and Shane striding toward the threshold on the other side.

Cross laughed and opened the door. Just as she thought the three men would collide, Dante and Shane walked into the café. As if Cross had never been there!

“What the hell?” Jax said, rushing at them. “Did you see him?”

“Yes!” they said in unison. Jax jerked open the door and ran out onto the busy street. She looked up and down the sidewalk. Though there were several pedestrians, Cross’s broad shoulders were nowhere to be seen.

Dante and Shane came up behind her. “We saw him through the glass. He was there!”

Jax stood stupefied. “He disappeared into thin air.”

“How do we search for a ghost?” Shane asked.

Jax stood silent for a long minute, unable to comprehend what had just happened, and not wanting to believe what she thought she’d seen. One thing was for sure. He’d be back. She slid her hand into the long, shallow pocket of her leather skirt and pulled out a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills.

“He’s going to want his money back.”