Mine To Have (Mine - Romantic Suspense Book 5) (18 page)

“I know I don’t have a lot of options, and I know that I am doing this.  You’ve been through hell for me over the years. Now it’s my turn to pay you back.”

Victor didn’t get it. Saxon had done all of that undercover work because Vic was family—a link that went deeper than blood ever could.  He’d wanted to protect his family. “If you need me, I’m there.”

“No.” Vic’s denial was immediate. “You’re out, you’re safe with that shiny new life of yours. A life that includes Elizabeth now. Keep her safe, and I’ll cover this end.” Static crackled over the line. “I
will
find Zoe Peters.”

Saxon knew that Victor tried to never make a promise that he couldn’t keep.

The line went dead. For a moment, Saxon didn’t move. He stared out at the land before him. The sun was setting, the sky a mix of red and gold.  The scene looked like something out of a fancy painting.

And it’s all mine. 

He’d saved every penny over the years and sank a fortune into this place.  That fortune had come to him the hard way. He hadn’t just worked for the FBI in the last fifteen years.  He’d risked his life more times than he could count, and when you were dealing in life or death situations, the pay-out could be serious. So he’d taken that pay-out, then doubled,
tripled
his money during his days in Vegas. And when the vineyard had come open, when he’d realized what he could do with a little winery out here…

A slice of heaven, after hell.

He’d wanted this place for so long.

Saxon turned and strode for the door.

But now he actually wanted something—someone else—more.

When he opened the door, he saw that Vanessa was collecting her bag and preparing to leave for the day. She paused when she saw him.

“Mr. Laurent?”

Another fake name. Maybe one day, he’d get used to it.  “I’m looking for Ms. Meadows,” he said.

Vanessa’s eyes widened and she smiled a little. “She’s in the tasting room.”

He immediately turned toward the left. “Thank you.”

“I, um, didn’t realize that the two of you were…an item.”

Saxon stilled.

“Oh, gosh, that was too personal, wasn’t it?” Vanessa blurted. “I crossed a line, I’m so sorry. Sometimes, I just don’t think before I—”

He glanced back at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
We’re definitely an item.

Her tremulous smile came again. “Th-thank you.”

After giving her a little nod, he strode down the hallway. He hadn’t confirmed or denied that he was involved with Elizabeth. He was trying to play the gentleman for her, and yelling to everyone that they were lovers—well, that probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly move ever.

And it had sure as shit been hard to keep up that gentlemanly front when Sloan Quest had been edging so close to Elizabeth.  Sure, the guy knew PR and he was an expert when it came to the wine business, but Saxon had wanted to shove the man across the room.

Saxon reached the tasting room. He paused a moment and took in a deep breath.
Don’t jump the woman. Keep some control.

He pushed open the door.

Wood gleamed all around the tasting room.  Heavy, tall wine racks.  Small, sputtering candles set the scene. He’d ordered those candles, earlier, when he’d wanted to toast with his new staff.

Staff. I have fucking staff now.

Elizabeth was at the bar. She turned toward him.

I have everything now.

He stared at her a moment, lost in the sight of her.  Did she even know all the strings Victor had pulled so that Elizabeth wound up there—
with me?

Everything had been set up, everything manipulated so that he could be with her. To protect her, hell, yes. But…more.

“M-Michael?”

His new name. One that he didn’t want to hear from her.  He shook his head and very deliberately shut the door behind him.  “It’s just us.”

Her back pressed to the bar.  His gaze swept over her, from those sexy shoes up to the silken expanse of her legs, then up, up to the curving breasts that thrust toward him.  His gaze finally settled on her face.

The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

And if she knew all the things he’d done, she’d probably run screaming from him.

I can’t ever let that happen.

He took a step toward her.  “When we’re alone, call me Saxon.” Because he liked the way his name sounded when it came from her.

He took another step toward her.

Elizabeth seemed to tense.  “What if someone comes in?”

“Then I might fucking fire them.”  Because he needed to get his hands on her.  She had no clue how bad the last two weeks had been for him. The doctors hadn’t cleared him to travel at first—he’d had to wait and stay away from her for too long.

“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth whispered, shaking her head.

Oh, but he would.

He stopped when he was right in front of her.  His hand lifted and brushed back the locks of her hair that had slipped over her cheek, then his fingers slid under that soft curtain of her  mane as he tilted her head back.  “I need a taste…”

Not of wine.  Of her.

Her lips parted and his mouth closed over hers.  This kiss wasn’t frantic.  Wasn’t wild. Because he was trying to show her that he could be more.  So much more. For her.

He licked her lower lip, then his tongue thrust inside of her mouth.  She gave that little moan—
yes—
and she arched toward him.

But he still kept the kiss controlled. Sensual, but not desperate.  He savored her. He caressed her. Even when his erect cock shoved at the front of his pants, his hold on her was light—just his hand, holding her through the curtain of her hair.

He kissed her. He licked.

And he wanted so much more.

That was why he finally stopped.  His head lifted so that he could gaze down at her.

Elizabeth’s eyes blinked open.

“You taste better than the wine.”

Her tongue slipped out and swept over her lips. “So do you.”

She did not play fair.

“Let me take you home,” he said. Because if he didn’t. He just might wind up fucking her there. Right in that shiny new tasting room.  He’d had the place remodeled when he took over, and it had turned out just as he’d hoped.

I can have everything I want now.
Provided, that Elizabeth stayed safe.

Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you offering to take me home…as my lover? Or as my FBI guard?”

“I’m doing it as both.” Because that was what he was. Guard and lover.

“We’re safe here,” she said. It almost sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of that. “In this perfect place you’ve made, we’re safe, right?”

“With me, I promise, you’ll always be safe.”

Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I believe that, you know.”

Because she trusted him so completely.

“But you can’t take me home, I came in my own car.”  Her smile stretched and tempted him to smile back at her.

So he did. “In that case, I’ll follow you.”

She nodded.

I’ll follow you any damn place. 

***

Victor strode out of the prison. As soon as she saw him, Tracy hurried forward.  “Sir?” Tracy called. “How did it go?”

She’d been cleared—after the FBI had ripped her life apart. They hadn’t turned up any sign that she’d been working with Gary. No bank transactions, no unaccounted absences, no whispers of impropriety at all.

But we thought Gary was clear, too.

Victor’s bosses had insisted he put Tracy back in circulation, provided, of course, that he kept one very close eye on her.

“It’s going,” he said simply.  He didn’t want to tell her about Zoe Peters.  He wasn’t going to tell anyone but Saxon about that woman.
Because Saxon is the only one that I trust one hundred percent.

“A call came in while you were inside,” Tracy told him, the words a little breathless, as if she were nervous.  “Gary Warren wants to talk with you.”

Wait, now the guy
wanted
to talk? Before Victor had left Miami, the guy had still been giving the old silent treatment to everyone. How was that for shit timing?

“So we’re going back down to Florida now?” Tracy asked.

“Not yet.”  He marched toward their car. Tracy hurried to keep up with him. “Gary can damn well wait for me.”

“But—”

“I have other business to tend to first.”

He climbed into the car.  Tracy started to follow him. “No,” he said flatly. “I called you a cab.”

Her body stiffened. “We’re working together—”

“Not right now, we’re not.” So much for what his bosses wanted.  He had to complete this job on his own. For Saxon. “Go back down to Miami. I’ll be there soon enough.”  He slammed his door, but Tracy jerked it right back open.

“You don’t trust me!”

He stared up at her.

“I freaking bled for the FBI to prove that I was legit. I told you every secret I had. No matter how humiliating. I told you
everything!
”

“We don’t get to have secrets in the FBI. That’s not a luxury we have—”

“Liar!” She snapped. “You have your secrets. You’ve going off on one of those
secret
missions right now.” Her breath heaved out. “Maybe there is a traitor in the FBI. Maybe I’m looking right at him.”

Her sharp words propelled him right out of the car as he faced off against her.

She backed up.

He advanced. “You don’t want to push me, Tracy.”

He heard the rasp of her breath.

“You really fucking don’t.”  Lights flashed, and he turned to see the ordered taxi arriving. “Get in the taxi, then get on a plane and head back to Miami. If Gary is in the mood to talk, you make sure he stays that way, got it?”

“Got it,” she gritted out.

He nodded, then got back in the car. For a minute there, he’d seen red. He’d never been accused of being a traitor before, and Victor sure didn’t like it.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Tracy murmured.

He paused, with his hand on the car door.

“When people close to you don’t trust you anymore.”

His gaze sharpened on her.

“See you in Miami,” she muttered.

He slammed the door. Drove away a little too fast.

And didn’t look back.

***

Tracy Adams watched Victor’s tail-lights vanish. That jerk was cutting her out of the case. He didn’t trust her. Sure, she had supposedly been cleared by the FBI, but if her direct supervisor was keeping case secrets from her…

Then no one at the Bureau will ever really trust me again.

She’d find herself demoted. Cut out of all the good cases. Cast aside.

That couldn’t happen.

“Hey, lady!” The taxi driver shouted. “Did you call for a ride?”

Ignoring him, Tracy turned back toward the prison.  Victor and his secrets…she was about to discover them. Because she would
not
lose everything that she’d worked so hard to gain all these years.

No way.

“Lady!” The taxi driver tried once more.

“Screw off,” she tossed back. 

Chapter Twelve

Saxon walked Elizabeth to the door of her cottage. He knew the place was equipped with a state of the art alarm system—after all, he’d had Victor install the system. But he still hesitated at her door. “Why don’t you let me go inside first?” Saxon asked her. “Just to make sure everything is safe?”

“Is that why you wanted to see me home? More guard duty?”

He shook his head. “I told you…the lover and the guard are the same.” He took the keys from her. Disengaged the lock. Her security system was beeping and he put in the access code.

“You know my code, too?” There was a sharp note in her voice, one that told him he’d just screwed up.

“Protocol,” he told her without looking back. He was busy scanning her cottage right then. “In case of an emergency, Victor had to be sure I knew it.”

He made his way through the little cottage, searching swiftly but thoroughly, going in all the rooms, stopping only in—

Her bedroom.

Damn, but the place already smelled just like her. Sweet and sexy. His gaze strayed to the bed. A four-poster. What he’d like to do to her in that bed…

“Is it clear?”

Her voice was close.

He turned toward her. “Clear.” But he didn’t move out of that bedroom. He wanted to stay right there, to fuck her all night long.

Forever.

I have it so damn bad.

Elizabeth was in the doorway, watching him carefully. “Who are you?”

“What?”

“Are you the man I met in Miami, the guy who could kill as easily as he could kiss?”

He stiffened.

“Or are you the poised businessman I met today?  The guy who had me naked in his office within five minutes?”

“Elizabeth—”

“You’ve been a dozen men, haven’t you?  Over the years…all those undercover jobs.”

Yes, he had been.

“Who is the real Saxon?  What’s that man like?”

He was just like the guy…who could kill as easily as he could kiss.

“It’s so extreme. Miami to…to this place.” She took a step forward. “Victor told me that you were dead to me. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, and now—now you’re right in front of me, but I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

He had to be careful here. There was fear in her gaze, and he hated that. “You know me better than most people do.”

“Really? Because I don’t know your favorite color. I don’t know your favorite food. I don’t know your family. I don’t feel like I know anything…but how you kiss and how you fight and how you fuck.”

Anger hummed in his blood. He stalked toward her, stopping only when they were bare inches apart.  “You’re asking about things that don’t matter.”

“I need to
know
you. I need to know that I’m not being crazy to trust you so much because…I-I do trust you. In this whole insanely messed-up world that I’m living in now, you’re the one man that I trust completely.”

And he knew exactly how precious the gift of her trust was. “Blue.  Sushi.”

A furrow appeared between her brows. “What?”