Page 47 of Relinquish

He grasps my chin. “You’re gorgeous, and you’re mine.”

Oh, holy hell. My knees get even weaker. Oh, my God, I’m in love with him. My stomach cramps as the realization makes me breathless. “Okay. I’ve got to fix my make-up and my hair.” He nods, drops my chin, and stands back.

I reach into my bag and draw out my powder case and lipstick. It’ll take a minor miracle to repair the damage he’s done. I stare at my reflection, and all I see is bliss and giddiness. Damn, even though you look like shit, he sure looks good on you.

He snatches a mint out of his pocket, pops it in his mouth, and returns the remaining ones into his pants. What time is it? It’s got to be getting late. I grab Cade’s arm and pull up his sleeve–7:15 p.m. “We only have fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to meet Randall and Patricia in the library.” Thank God there’s still time to repair my face. “How’re we doing this?”

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” I shudder. “But how are we interacting with Randall and the other suspects.”

“I don’t plan to fuck them.”

“Good.” I coat my lips with lipstick, snap the lid back in place, and shove it into my purse. I step over to him and rub over his swollen cock. “Because this is mine, too.”

“Of course it is,” he growls. “But you’ve got to stop.”

“Only because I have work to do.” I pull my hand back, tuck my purse under my arm, and arch my eyebrows.

“I plan to stay with you, but out of the way. You can tell him I’m all brawn and no brain. I figure if he thinks of me as muscle and nothing else, he’ll eventually feel free to talk when I’m around. That’s why I brought the shades.” He pulls out a pair of dark sunglasses and perches them on his nose, making him look even more sinister.

With the previous attempt on the jewels, Randall shouldn’t question why I have security. Cade won’t garner much interest–with the men. The women will be a different story. I might have to pussy punch at least one of them to get the point across. “You’ve got a cover story for everything. Truman’s right. You do seem to have the knack for undercover work.”

“Thanks. It was something I was good at for a lot of years. I guess it’s like riding a bike.”

“Why did you quit the military?” There must be a backstory for why he didn’t re-enlist. He’s the essence of a military man. He’s controlled, strategic, and undoubtedly skilled in combat.

He shrugs. “It wasn’t so much as quit as it was medically discharged.”

I grab his forearm. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story. Can you take a raincheck until later tonight? It’s going to take longer than the time we’ve got until you meet with Maitland.”

I nod. “Okay. Tell me when you’re ready.” It warms my heart that he trusts me enough to share all his past with me. I feel like this is a part of himself that he doesn’t share easily.

I spin in a circle. “Do I have everything back in place?”

“You look amazing. No one will suspect a thing.” He grins. “Except me.”

I glare playfully at him. “Don’t distract me. I can’t be thinking about dropping to my knees and sucking you off.” The sharp intake of his breath makes me want to laugh with euphoria. I wink. “While I’m working. So, let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lola

He shuts the door behind us as we leave the storage room. No one pays any attention to us as we navigate our way back through the kitchen. How in the hell did they not hear me screaming? My shoulders tighten, and I suppress a shudder. Stop all the lusting after him.

Once we return to the foyer, I glide through the crowd toward the library without looking to see if he’s following. I don’t have to look to know he’s there. As I get closer to the meeting place, I grab a glass of bubbling champagne from a tray that one of the tuxedo-wearing caterers is holding. The drink is not for courage but to enhance the character I’m portraying. With Cade by my side, I feel invincible. Now to keep from having it bite me in the ass.

Patricia’s hand is on the arm of a distinguished gentleman who’s wearing an exquisite Italian suit. Randall Maitland is easy to recognize. Whether he’s on a screen or in person, he exudes class and good looks. Patricia’s hair is twisted and clasped at the base of her neck. She’s wearing a floor-length, black chiffon gown. The neckline of the dress plunges to her breasts, revealing a generous amount of cleavage.

From the doorway, I study the interaction between Randall and the guests surrounding him. Patricia hangs on his every word. The remaining group members appear to be as enthralled with the conversation as she is–when the guys aren’t gawking at her tits.

The man must have charisma to spare to keep most of the attention on himself because Patricia’s enhancements must have cost her a bundle. David Brown is one of the group’s members. Let’s kill two birds with one stone.

Patricia glances over and waves. “There you are. We’ve been waiting for you to show.”

“Patricia, you look lovely.” I clasp her hand with my empty one.

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