Master No (9 page)

Read Master No Online

Authors: Lexi Blake

Tags: #Spies, #Dom/sub, #Lexi Blake, #McKay-Taggart, #Masters & Mercenaries, #erotic romance, #Bdsm

“Hey.” She tried to push back, but she was terrified of what that hard item was at the back of her spine.

His breath was hot against the shell of her ear. “Hello, sweetheart. I would suggest you don’t move or yell out. Do you feel that?”

She thought about calling out, calculated the odds. Adrenaline started to pump through her body, heightening her senses and making her hyperaware. If that was really a gun, the movement required to force the man away could cause the trigger to move enough to fire. It would hit her at L2 and more than likely sever her spinal column, leaving her without the ability to walk. She decided to nod.

She could see him in the mirror. He was dark haired, with a close-cropped beard, his eyes clear and focused. He wasn’t panicked and that was a good thing.

He smiled and she was sure to anyone glancing at them they looked affectionate. “If you say or do anything to alert these kind people, I’ll shoot you and then I’ll shoot them. Nod if you understand. And give me a nice smile.”

There were five people within range. If he was a good shot, he could probably shoot her and at least two others. What did he want? Could she get him somewhere he couldn’t hurt other people? She nodded and smiled, though she had to force it and wasn’t sure she would fool anyone.

His smile was vibrant. He was a decent looking man for a total and utter criminal. He had a good half a foot on her. He was wearing all black and she couldn’t see much of him, but she would bet there was a lot of muscle there. Bigger. Stronger. She couldn’t see a single advantage she had over the man. Her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised no one could hear it.

“I want to take a little walk and we’re going to talk. I need some information and you need to give it to me. When I’m satisfied that you understand, I’ll let you go.”

Sure he would. But maybe…maybe this was about her father. Maybe this was some move to scare her so she would talk to her father about legislation or something. She decided to go along at least until they were out on the street and she had a shot at not being in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. When they got out on the street, she could run. She could find something to use against him. There would be chaos on the streets the minute the gun came out, and she could use that to her advantage.

Also, Erin would come looking for her if she stalled long enough. Erin would know she wouldn’t miss the meeting with Master T.

Keep your head. Don’t risk the lives of everyone here.

“What do you want?” Faith kept her voice quiet.

“I want to talk. That’s all.”

The gun shifted to her side and an arm went around her waist as he pulled her back. She thought he would take her out the front, but they started toward a hall to her left. To her right was the rest of the store, with its designer bags and clothes she couldn’t justify buying. It looked like she was going out an employees only door.

Panic threatened. Please let this be some nutbag who wanted to talk to her about her father’s stance on fracking or taxes.

She looked around, praying someone was watching them. The clerks on the floor seemed involved with customers or preoccupied with product. No one was watching them. No one noticed when they slipped away.

Everything became quiet. The minute the door closed, it seemed like the world had been shut off from her. She was alone with him and the hallways seemed almost too bright. The fluorescent lighting made her blink. The walls were concrete, painted blocks. She got up close and personal with them when her attacker shoved her body against the wall and pressed in hard.

Pain flared. He hadn’t held back. He’d used a great deal of force, and she felt it in her bones.

“You are awfully pretty.”

She took a deep breath because she wasn’t going to talk her way out of this. She would have to fight. His hands were on her. He’d holstered his gun, obviously comfortable with the fact that he could handle her now that they were alone.

He was wrong.

At least she hoped he was.

His hand moved down her torso. “So pretty. Maybe we could spend some time together before I do what I have to.”

She didn’t care anymore. She pulled her elbow forward as far as she could and brought it back on his ribs. A hard thud hit her ears and then she was free. She heard him curse, but didn’t wait. She took off. Instinct led her away from the door he’d taken her through. He was in front of it and all she wanted was to get as far away from him as she could.

She ran down the long hallway, stumbling because she’d worn stupid shoes. Heels. She never wore heels but she’d put them on because she’d wanted Master T to think of her as sexy and sensual, and not practical the way all the other men in her life saw her. She never wore heels. She wore sneakers. God, she wished she was wearing sneakers now.

Up ahead she saw a door and didn’t hesitate. She could hear him cursing. When she glanced back, he was getting up to his feet and she could see that shiny gun in his hand. It looked like he was no longer interested in feeling her up.

Pro. He was a pro. The idea whispered through her head. Someone had sent a professional after her.

She hit the door with force and immediately smacked into a mountain of muscle. She started to scream, but a hand came out and she found herself looking up into seriously blue eyes.

“Was there only the one? Did he mention whether or not he had a partner?” a deep voice asked.

Master T. He was here. He was standing right here dressed in a black Western shirt with pearl snaps and a Stetson sat on his head. She wanted to hug him, but they needed to get away.

Faith shook her head, trying to catch her breath. “There was only him. We need to go.”

“Hush now, darlin’. You stay here while I take care of this,” he said in a slow, Southern accent. He physically moved her to the side as the door was beginning to open.

“Now you’ve pissed me off,” the man who had attacked her shouted through the door.

“Oh, son, you have no idea,” Master T said as his booted foot came out and he kicked the door back in.

Faith heard the horrible sound of bones crunching as her attacker’s hand got caught between the door and the jamb. The gun fell to the ground.

She stood and watched in complete horror as Master T opened the door again and then disappeared through it.

He didn’t have a gun. At least not one she’d seen in his hands. Her hands. They were shaking. Her whole body seemed to be a live wire, every inch of her skin crackling with the fact that she’d almost been killed and now her new play partner was likely being murdered by a man who had been sent to kill her. What was she supposed to do?

Police. She should call the police. Yes. She opened her purse to look for her cell phone. Where was it? Why did she have so much crap in her purse? Panicking, she sifted through, trying to find her phone. Master T was likely dying and it was going to be her damn fault because she hadn’t cleaned out her bag after the flight. She could find antibacterial soap and her passport but not her phone.

Finally. She grasped it and immediately dropped it. It clattered to the ground. It was twilight, but the outside lights hadn’t come on yet. She started to reach for her phone when the door opened again.

Faith shrank back and was about to run when she saw Master T step out, hauling a body behind him.

“You all right?” he asked.

Nope. Not even close. She picked up the phone. “I’ll get the police out here.”

The words were shaky, forced from her mouth.

Before she could press the emergency button on her screen, the phone was in his hand.

“I need you to think about this for a moment. Do you recognize this man?”

She didn’t want to look at him. “Is he alive?”

A big hand came up, cupping her cheek and gently bringing her gaze up to look into Master T’s blue eyes. He was calm. Perfectly calm. “Stay with me, Doc. I know you don’t want to look and if it’s too much for you, then I can try to make an ID through pictures, but it would be very helpful if you could tell me if you’ve ever seen him before or not.”

“Is he dead?” She knew the answer, but it made her sick to her stomach.

“Yes, he’s dead. I snapped his neck during the fight. He’s not going to try to hurt you again, but we need to figure out if this was a random pervert trying to get some or a professional sent specifically after you. That gun he was carrying makes me think pro. Most random rapists don’t have that quality of suppressor on their weapons and they don’t typically prowl the cosmetics counter at Neiman’s.”

Pro. It was what she’d first thought. “All right.”

She started to move, but he stopped her. “Hey, it’s all right now. You’re fine.”

She found herself wrapped up in his arms, his hands coming around to hold her tight. One big hand cupped the back of her head, sinking into her hair and gently guiding her against his really well-made chest. The other hand eased over her back.

“It’s all right, Faith. He’s not coming back for you.”

His voice was deep and melodic and soothing, and before she could think about it, she was breathing in his scent. Sandalwood. There was a hint of it in his aftershave and his shirt smelled like fabric softener. She let the heat of his body sink into her own and listened to the beat of his heart. It was steady, as though what had happened was no big deal. She knew that should set off warning bells, but at that moment it was so good to have a stable sound. Master T was solid and she needed the comfort he was offering her. The world had gone crazy, but here was warmth and safety and protection all wrapped up in a gorgeous package of man.

“You’re all right, darlin’.” The hands on her body felt comforting, not sexual at all. He was a calming presence, but she was suddenly very aware she barely knew this man and he’d killed someone. He’d killed a man and his heartbeat hadn’t ticked up at all.

She gently pushed away from him. “I’m good. It’s just a lot of adrenaline. We should call the police now.”

Master T stepped back, giving her space. The very act of disengaging from him made her wish she was back in his arms. “We can do that. You’ll need to call your father and let him know what’s coming his way.”

“What do you mean?” Even before the question was out of her mouth, she knew what he meant. “The press. The minute they find out who I am, the press will be all over it.”

No more anonymity. She’d likely be rushed into a safe house while her father took over the investigation and made her near murder a platform for a new law and order agenda. She wouldn’t be able to walk outside, much less spend the next three months relaxing. She would have bodyguards. So many bodyguards.

“Faith, I need you to make a decision and quickly. We won’t be alone out here for long and I suspect these security cameras picked up a lot we don’t want them to see. If you’re going to call the police in that’s fine. If you’re going to keep this quiet and allow my firm to handle it, then I need to get to work now.”

She looked up at him. “Why were you here?”

“Because I saw you walking up the street and I followed you. I was curious. Was the lip-gloss for me?”

She nodded.

His hand came up, big thumb brushing across her bottom lip in a way that wasn’t comforting at all. She felt that touch low in her abdomen. How could she get hot for a man when there was a dead body at her feet? “You look beautiful, Doc. I was going to approach you when I saw that man make his move. I realized where he was going and thought I’d surprise him. Make your decision. I’ll back you either way.”

“You killed him.” She wasn’t the only one her decision would affect.

“It was self-defense. I can handle the cops. I can also handle the investigation. I can protect you while we figure out what’s going on, but I can’t do both. If you bring the cops into this, your protection is going to fall to your father. So you need to choose.”

She should bite the bullet and do the right thing. This wasn’t Master T’s problem. He’d already done enough. He’d saved her. She should call the cops and let him move on with his life.

“Call your firm. I’ve got money. I can hire them. Will you stay with me?”

One corner of his mouth tugged up and she saw the beginning of the sweetest dimples. When the man smiled, she didn’t need sunlight. “Try to get rid of me, darlin’.” His fingers tangled with hers while he pulled out a cell with his free hand. “Take a look at him and see if you know him. I’m going to call this in and we’ll get you back down to the restaurant. You let me take care of everything from here on out.”

She sighed and couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the right thing.

 

* * * *

 

“You couldn’t leave him alive, could you?” Big Tag sat down with a frown on his face. His voice was low, his eyes trailing to where Faith McDonald stood in Top’s small lounge area talking to Erin. “You know if he was alive he could do this thing. We call it talking. It’s where we ask a few questions and he provides easy answers.”

She had a glass of wine in her hand. Her second, he thought. Erin had been given explicit instructions on how to take care of her. Erin had also been given a serious lecture along with some threats he didn’t normally pass on to ladies. She’d fucked up and she’d known it.

“Well, Tag, at the time he was trying to gut me,” Ten replied before taking a short swig of Sean’s first-class bourbon.

The battle had been short but nasty. Oh, he hadn’t actually gotten his clothes messed up or anything, but the jerk had produced a wicked knife. Unfortunately, he’d also proven to have damn brittle bones. Or Ten had been a little pissed.

That fucker had walked right up to Faith and put his hands on her. He’d rubbed his body against her in that way a man did when he was proving to a woman he could have her and not because she’d said yes. He’d made her afraid. Ten had watched as Faith had gone from flushed with excitement about meeting her soon-to-be lover, straight to fear for her life. That motherfucker was lucky he hadn’t had time to show the bastard how he really felt about the whole situation.

He took another swig. It wasn’t about possessiveness. No. He’d been angry because that fucker had made his job ten times harder. He needed to get Faith into bed as soon as possible, and that asshole had practically raped her.

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