Chapter 5
Cassie
His touch had ignited something deep inside, an awakening I hadn’t anticipated. He’d left me aching to my very core, his scent shifting into every cell, lingering on what seemed like every inch of my skin. He’d given me an earth-shattering orgasm, driving me into the outer limits of ecstasy.
And I’d allowed him to do it. I’d encouraged his brutal actions, my body providing the okay when my voice had faltered.
Goddamn it.
His thrusts had been violent, unforgiving. He’d taken me like the savage I’d believed him to be, but I’d seen more to him. Or maybe it had been wishful thinking. A knot formed in my stomach, my emotions all over the place. His touch alone had shattered a part of me I’d protected for so long.
No. My ridiculous thinking had to stop. He was just a man, not a god, even though his carved body indicated otherwise.
He was beautiful, exquisite in every way, a temptation I refused to accept.
I was exhausted, my body aching, but the hunger for him remained gnawing inside of me like a starved animal. I wanted to laugh then cry.
I’d left him there to die.
Oh, God. What had I done?
Think. He’s the enemy. Remember your vow. Remember…
Sweetheart.
The bastard had called me sweetheart. He’d gotten what he deserved. I was furious, angry enough I cursed as many horrible names as I could think of under my breath. To hell with him. To hell with all of them. They all deserved to…
No, I couldn’t think the word, let alone say it out loud.
Control yourself. Don’t be an idiot.
My inner voice wasn’t doing me any good. I wasn’t certain anything would at this point. I had to be out of my mind but scratching him with the ring had felt damn good. When I’d rushed away from the scene of the… crime, I was reminded with every step that he’d spanked me, the horrible savage.
I’d ripped off my stilettos before walking very quickly down the hallway.
The last thing I needed to do was to draw unnecessary attention.
I huddled in the elevator, praying that no one had seen me.
I could barely breathe, my heart thudding so badly the echo was louder than the damn elevator music in the cold steel box.
My thoughts continued to deny my control, betraying me much like Brogan had insinuated my body had already done.
He was so rough, a dark and controlling man with the most beautiful eyes, two-day stubble that tickled my sensitive pussy when he…
Oh, God. I’d allowed the entire situation to get way out of control. I hadn’t planned on being that attracted to him or to crave his touch. Or his kisses.
Or to have him take full advantage of me.
Jesus. Now I was panting.
I tried to control my breathing, closing my eyes and concentrating on the music. Even the strains of Donny and Marie or Elvis or whoever the hell it was couldn’t soothe the dull ache in my stomach.
Or my heart.
I doubted anything could at this point. I fingered my curls with the index finger on my other hand then glared down at the ring on my finger, turning my hand over and staring at the glisten of blood covering the sharp point. His blood. What the hell was I doing?
You can’t stop now. Just one more.
I’d traveled from New York to Las Vegas, grabbing the first flight before I’d lost my nerve. One more trip. One more adventure. That’s what I kept telling myself. Whether or not the good girl believed me, I wasn’t certain.
You’re not a good girl any longer.
Hissing, I closed my eyes until the elevator pinged, forcing a squeal from my throat.
I rushed off the damn thing before I realized I wasn’t in the lobby, the elevator doors closing again before I had a chance to jump back inside.
The longer I was in the building, the more likely it was someone had seen me.
I ripped off the mask, shoving it into the bodice of my dress then searched for the stairs.
When I found them, I burst through the door, feeling woozier than before. Two flights. Then I could catch a breath of fresh air.
I rubbed my finger across my lips, still able to feel the roughness of his kiss, the man brutal and dominating and so unlike the boy I’d kind of met only once.
I shoved aside the memory and concentrated on getting the hell away from the hotel.
When I hit the ground floor, I cautiously opened the stairwell door, half expecting to see police swarming into the building.
I hadn’t calculated the poison to the hulking mass of a man I met in the casino.
He’d beefed up by at least forty pounds, every inch of him solid muscle. His chest was like a rock, beautifully carved and solid and the way he looked in faded blue jeans was incredible.
“Ugh,” I said out loud before biting my lower lip and holding my head high, even managing to plant a smile on my face before easing out of the stairwell.
I knew exactly where I was going and within seconds, I walked outside one of the side entrances.
Only when I was behind the wheel of my rental car did I feel somewhat better.
I took a few seconds, breathing in and out, the exercises usually calming me.
Not tonight. Then I yanked off the wig, tossing it into the backseat, quickly tearing out the bobby pins and clasps holding my real hair in a tight bun.
I shook it out then tossed my shoes aside, grabbing my flat shoes before starting the engine.
All I wanted to do was get behind the locked door of the hotel and sink into a hot bath. No, a long hot shower. I felt used and dirty, every part of me filthy. I was playing with fire by pretending I wanted to seduce them. Look where it had gotten me so far.
I couldn’t go through this again. I wasn’t that strong. I’d go back to the motel and think this through for the hundredth time. I’d brought wine and a book to read and planned on avoiding the television and all human beings until my flight left in the morning.
Then I’d finish my mission and forget about the last few months, maybe taking a tropical vacation all by myself.
At least I’d have fulfilled my promise. And I always kept my promises.
Like a good little girl.
A lump remained in my throat, the anxiety I’d felt since stepping off the plane only increasing.
I constantly checked the rearview mirror, still expecting to see police cars swarming behind me.
Maybe I’d watched too many cop shows over the years.
I’d planned everything perfectly, although I’d been certain the brute of a man wouldn’t take the bait.
He’d been so… overwhelmingly sexy, more so than I’d expected.
Brogan Lancaster had to be at least six foot four, two hundred twenty pounds or more, his face carved directly out of stone. And his eyes were the color of the Aegean Sea.
“Get ahold of yourself,” I whispered, no longer recognizing my voice.
Still grappling with anxiety bordering on utter terror, I did everything I could to maintain the speed limit when I wanted to shove my foot to the floor, racing through the brightly lit streets.
It seemed like it took forever to reach the small motel nestled on one of the ugliest side streets in the entire city, but I couldn’t take the chance of anyone seeing or remembering me.
Finally, after an interminable amount of time, I rolled the Kia into the parking lot, struggling to find a parking spot.
When I finally did, I shut the engine down, uncertain I had the strength to walk up the stairs to the crappy hotel room.
I’d stayed in some fleabags in my time, but this place took the cake. Maybe the bath wasn’t such a good idea.
But the bottle of wine certainly was.
After grabbing my things, tangling my fingers in the silky tresses of the long wig, I finally found the courage to take long strides toward the building. I would dump most of the items in different trash cans before leaving.
I managed to make it up the cracked concrete stairs and race toward the room, barely keeping my hands steady enough to be able to slide the keycard into the lock. Damn it! The red light remained. I threw a look over my shoulder, certain I heard footsteps. Seeing nothing, I tried again.
Still red.
Now near panic set in. What if the murder was on the news already?
What if the cranky little man at reception was watching it?
What if my picture was splashed across the screen, the hussy who stole money from the sexy yet brutal released convict then killed him in cold blood?
Well, the theft part wasn’t accurate. Neither was the hussy. But everything else was.
I took a deep breath, holding it for as long as I could tolerate then tried the card again. When the green light flashed, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. I couldn’t get inside the room fast enough. After tossing my things, I glared at the bottle purchased with celebration in mind.
But as I continued to stare at it, spots formed in front of my eyes. They were all the color of red.
Suddenly sick to my stomach, I stumbled to the edge of the bed, then slumped down, the ugly wig still in my hand.
Memories of the last few years swept into my mind, but I realized how little I knew about the three men even though long ago I’d created the perfect romance story.
It was ridiculous of course, a young girl’s belief in fairy tales and rainbows, but it had gotten me through several tough times.
Now he was gone, and I fully intended to carry through with my final act of revenge.
I had turned into a cold-blooded killer.
* * *
Daniel
Security.
I knew every concept of security in several languages, had prided myself over the years in learning brutal methods criminals had devised in order to maintain some sense of privacy.
Because of my tenacity, I’d solved more international crimes than most of my fellow CIA agents.
That had earned me a solid reputation as a formidable man, one who took no prisoners.