Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
S avannah whistled in the shower.
Why the hell not?
She smiled as she washed her hair. She’d had the best orgasm of her life, made even better because it wasn’t self-induced. She’d gotten to touch and taste Hunter, and give him pleasure.
She’d slept tucked up against Hunt’s hard body. The man liked full contact when they slept. He’d kept his body pressed to hers, an arm tight around her waist.
After shutting off the water, she stepped out. She dried her hair and wrapped herself in a towel. Despite the shitty circumstances of her life and the ugly bruises around her neck, she felt good. She was going to enjoy the moment.
Movement in the mirror caught her eye. Hunt stepped into the bathroom. He’d already dressed in dark suit pants, a white shirt, and tie.
Mmm . She absorbed the shot of desire. She wanted to mess the detective up a little.
He set the coffee mug down on the vanity, then snaked an arm around her and kissed her.
Oh . She clung to him. He tasted like coffee and Hunt.
He bit her bottom lip. “If we had time, I’d get rid of this towel, and bend you over the vanity until you scream.”
She groaned. “Seriously, you’re hot enough without the sexy, dirty talk.”
He smiled at her, then squeezed her ass through the towel. “I remember exactly how sweet you taste. Unfortunately, I have meetings, and I need to get you to Norcross.”
“Norcross?”
He nodded. “Vander’s going to keep an eye on you today. Take your art stuff. You can work at his office.”
She hated the idea that she needed bodyguards, but if she was safe, she knew that Hunt would be less distracted and could focus on finding Walkson.
“Here.” Hunt handed her the coffee.
She sipped her coffee and moaned. “Careful, I could get used to this.”
He met her gaze in the mirror. “Good.”
Then he was gone.
Her chest tightened to a hard, sharp point. She wanted this. Wanted this happiness to last. She pressed a hand to the sink, and her chin dropped to her chest. She knew life could kick you in the teeth and snatch everything you loved most away in the blink of an eye.
She looked into the mirror.
No . She’d told Hunt that she’d stay, and that they’d face Walkson together.
She dressed in fitted, three-quarter, navy-blue pants, some beaded, flat sandals, and her favorite gray T-shirt. She put on the black choker necklace she loved, and it covered the bruising a little. She piled her loose curls up on top of her head.
Hunt herded her and her art bag into his now working Charger. They prowled out of the neighborhood.
“Busy day?” she asked.
“Hell, yeah. I’m juggling a bunch of cases. I just got a message that there’s been a follow-up on one, so I need to chase that down. We might finally arrest the perp responsible today.”
“You love your job.”
He glanced at her. “Sometimes. It has its ups and downs. It helps to know I’m making a difference. That I’m there when it counts.”
There was something in his voice.
There when it counts. Her belly clenched. Like he felt he hadn’t been for his Delta Force men.
“Hunt, being a cop, it’s important. You don’t need to be making up for the Delta brothers you lost.”
“It’s not that,” he snapped.
Savannah watched his hands flex on the wheel, his knuckles white. She felt a funny sensation. “I can’t bring Amelia back.”
He growled. “Her death is not your fault.”
“And neither were the deaths of your friends after you left the military.”
“Drop it.”
“Hunt—”
“I said, drop it.”
She folded her arms. “Right, I bare all my secrets, but yours are off-limits.”
He was silent, a muscle in his jaw ticked.
She felt a sense of sadness. She looked out the side window. “Maybe I’m just another case for you to solve. Another person for you to save as you make amends for your lost friends.”
“ No .” He blew out a breath. Then he yanked on the wheel and pulled over on a side street.
He reached out and took her hand.
“I’m sorry. I… Haven’t talked about Eric, Mitchell, and Manny much.”
“Oh.” He’d never shared with anyone?
“I talk a little bit with Ryder. I do feel guilt. Survivor guilt. I know it. Those men all had families, kids, and Manny had a baby on the way. I was single. Maybe a part of me thought it would be better if I had died.”
“Hunter, no.” She touched his cheek. “Life sucks sometimes. Sometimes there is no good explanation for why things happen. You just have to accept them and move on.”
He kissed her, thorough but quick. “I’ll try not to snap your head off in the future.”
“That’ll be appreciated, but I do get it, Hunt.”
He kissed her hand, then pulled the car back out onto the road.
It wasn’t long before he pulled up in front of an amazing, renovated warehouse. Wow . A large door slid open, and they drove into the parking area. Rows of BMW SUVs were parked on one side.
“Nice digs.”
“Private security pays well,” Hunt said. “And Vander’s brother is a billionaire.”
“Wait. Easton Norcross?”
“That’s him. He helps us all invest.”
She knew that the billionaire owned the Hutton Museum. It was one of her favorite places to visit in San Francisco. The art collections there were amazing.
“Really? Are you loaded, Detective?” She bumped her hip against his as he slung her art bag on his shoulder.
“Well, I’m not a billionaire.” He led her up some stairs.
No, he wouldn’t want billions. “Bummer. Can you introduce me to Easton?”
Hunt gripped the back of her neck. “Sure, but he’s happily engaged.”
She wrinkled her nose. No doubt Easton Norcross was engaged to some statuesque supermodel.
Hunt nipped Savannah’s ear. “And you’re mine.”
She shivered.
They reached the top of the stairs, and Savannah stopped to take it all in. She totally loved the industrial feel to the warehouse interior. Whoever had done the work, had done an excellent job.
The next thing she spotted was a tall, golden-haired man in a tailored suit, kissing a petite, dark-haired woman in a sleek, blue dress that Savannah instantly coveted.
The man lifted his head, saw Hunt and smiled.
“Can’t stay away from your woman, Buchanan?” Hunt asked.
The man slung his arm across the woman’s shoulders. “Why would I want to stay away? She’s gorgeous, mine, and going to marry me.”
“She’s going to smack you if you don’t let her leave. I have a meeting, and Ashley will skin me alive if I’m late. Sometimes I wonder who’s the boss and who’s the assistant.” The brunette eyed Savannah with interest. “Hi, I’m Gia Norcross. This is my man, Saxon Buchanan.”
“Savannah.”
“Vander’s taking care of Savannah for me,” Hunt said. “She’s got some troubles.”
Gia’s gaze flickered briefly to the bruises on Savannah’s neck. “Bodyguard duty.” There was sympathy in the woman’s voice.
A slightly disheveled brunette in a fitted, green pantsuit stepped out of an office. “Rhys, I have to go.”
A far-too-hot-for-his-own-good man stepped out behind her. He looked like a rock god crossed with a fallen angel. He had a handsome face, thick, dark hair with curl to it, and a wide smile.
Oh, Savannah wanted to paint him, bare chested, guitar in hand.
“Oh, hello.” The woman blushed prettily, especially when the man kissed the back of her neck.
“Rhys Norcross and Haven McKinney, this is Savannah Cole,” Hunt introduced her.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Haven said.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce you two,” Hunt added. “Savannah’s an artist.”
Haven’s face perked up. “Really? I’d love to see your work.”
“Well, sure,” Savannah said.
“Haven works at the Hutton Museum,” Hunt said.
Savannah gasped. “I love the Hutton. I’ve spent hours there. The Carolina Exhibition is amazing.”
Haven beamed. “I spent hours securing that collection. I’m the curator.”
Brynn and Vander strode down the hall, and Savannah took a second to admire them.
They had a similar, take-charge vibe. A matching set.
Then Vander pulled Brynn close, he ran his nose down hers, and watched her intensely the entire time.
Savannah felt like a voyeur. Phew . They sure generated some heat.
Vander lifted a hand to the crowd.
“Hi, Savannah,” Brynn said
“Hi.”
Gia frowned. “So, Savannah, do you know Hunt from a case?”
“Sort of…”
“She’s my neighbor,” Hunt said.
“Oh,” Gia said.
“I need to go,” Hunt said. “Stay inside, follow Vander’s orders.”
Savannah nodded.
“So, there’s nothing going on with you two?” Gia asked, not even bothering to hide her nosiness. The woman had a look in her eye.
“I have a stalker,” Savannah said.
“That’s terrible,” Haven said. “I’m so sorry.”
“But there’s also plenty going on.” Hunt tugged Savannah close and laid a kiss on her.
When he finally stepped back, her head was swimming, and her girly parts were doing the rumba.
She looked up. The men all looked amused, and the women were eyeing her with wide grins.
“I’ll pick you up this afternoon,” he said.
She watched him stride to the stairs.
Damn the man.
* * *
It was a little surprising to find herself in a beautiful, light-filled space, showing her sketchbook to Haven.
“Oh, look at Hunt in this. That man has hot, dependable, cop written all over him.” Haven smiled at Savannah. “But don’t worry, I like hot, sexy, rock-star investigators myself.” She looked down at the sketchbook. “Your style is amazing.”
“I paint and sculpt, too.”
Haven’s blue eyes lit up. “Can I see?”
Savannah nodded. “I actually had some showings, before…”
Haven grabbed her hand and squeezed. “When I got together with Rhys, I found myself in some trouble. There was a theft at the Hutton, and a Monet was stolen.”
Savannah’s mouth dropped open. “I heard about that in the news.”
“I was there. It was horrible. It turned out my ex, who’d hit me, was involved.
Anyway, I have no idea how it feels to have a crazed stalker after you, but I do know how it feels to have your life spin out of control, and to be afraid.
I also know how difficult it can be to trust a gorgeous man who wants to help you. ”