Chapter One
“Six women confirmed inside.” The voice came from my earpiece, the location identified almost impossible to see. Thick vines covered most of the aging building. “Infrared also detects seven guards. Without a doubt, they’re heavily armed. Be careful.”
Yeah, I planned on doing so.
There would be no additional communication until the rescue mission was complete. I’d either succeed or die. There was no in between. There would be no second chances. This was a one-shot deal. The human traffickers were set to move the women by truck just before dawn. At that point, I’d have zero chance of saving the victims.
Giuseppe Carlotto, the brutal Italian crime lord, was considered one of the most notorious masterminds in the world. He enjoyed the capture, torture, and sale of women. Instead of using unwanted girls, runaways, or lost souls, he targeted those who would bring the heftiest price for their bodies. Actresses, princesses, daughters of prominent businessmen. While ransom was sought, there was no thought of returning them safely.
The women captured were nothing but slaves, sold off to the highest bidder. To my mind, the bastard was the worst scum on earth.
I moved carefully toward the old warehouse, the building having been abandoned over ten years before. It was located in the middle of a rural area and covered by vines. Without the prior knowledge of the Carlotto soldiers, discovering the building would have been next to impossible. But the people I worked for were damn good at what they did.
And I was their instrument of death.
I pushed against the dilapidated side, checking the ammunition in my M4 assault rifle one last time. There were plenty of rounds, more in the second carbine weapon I also carried.
The fuckers working for the pig would never again see the light of day.
After one last check of my watch, I scanned the perimeter and moved in. I’d been privy to the blueprints of the building, securing the best way to get inside. Every move I made had been calculated to the second. There was no time to waste. More of the fuckers would be on the way, the distance of the second team unnervingly close.
Killing the men wasn’t my concern.
Getting the women on the transport vehicle was.
How our advance had been located was above my pay grade, but I’d refused to back down without a fight. Maybe I was the rogue soldier I’d been labeled after all.
I placed the explosive on the lock, taking a few strides away. The work of art had been designed to keep from creating the sound a usual explosive would make. With only a slight puff of air, the lock was blown off.
Using every bit of my stealth training, I moved inside, adjusting my night goggles so I wouldn’t make a mistake.
Crouching lower, I hugged the walls and headed for the main room, catching sight of a single soldier.
I heard a desperate cry, then a thud and a shriek. As usual, intimidation and physical abuse were used to keep them quiet. Not that anyone would be able to hear them. They’d disappeared without a trace from stores, coffee shops, churches, and other highly protected areas. The soldiers were damn good at what they did.
I was better.
After creeping closer, I noticed an open door. That was where the women were being held. With my weapon in both hands, I took several long strides into the main room.
An enemy soldier noticed me out of the corner of his eye.
As he swung around, cursing in Italian, I fired off several shots, immediately spinning and catching another soldier as he bounded into the room. When I heard two more voices preparing to come loaded in my direction, I raced toward them instead.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
I sprayed bullets, shifting from left to right, making certain I’d hit my target.
As if I’d miss.
One more jumped from the shadows, his angry expression displaying his hatred and determination to kill me.
“Muori, il maiale Americano.”
Die, American pig.
More proof our mission had been compromised.
He was cavalier in his actions, taking more than a split second to lift and fire his weapon.
I wasn’t into hesitating. My patience was next to zero. With a single shot, I caught him between the eyes. Too bad I hadn’t had time to show him what American pigs could do with a knife.
Another shadow captured my attention, and I jerked to the right.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The last two bodies slowly crumpled to the floor, their soulless eyes wide open from the unexpected attack. There was no time to bask in my glory. I raced into the second room, quickly surveying the situation.
The hostages were tied up, three on some chairs, while one hung from a beam in the ceiling. The last two were on the floor, neither moving.
Well, fuck me. This was going to be more complicated than the team had originally thought.
“Devi fidarti di me. Sono qui per salvarti. Farai come ti dico, e vivrai.”
You need to trust me. I’m here to save you. You will do as I say, and you’ll live.
The words I’d spoken in Italian thankfully got through to them.
Even the two women on the floor lifted their heads in acknowledgment. Sadly, I didn’t need to be a doctor to know they were both in bad shape, one in particular. All six had obviously been beaten, victims of a horrific crime that often suffered little or no consequences.
I moved from one to the other, untying or unbolting their shackles, bolt cutters needed for two of them. I’d come prepared, but time was running out.
Once they all were freed, I was forced to hoist the most injured of the six over my shoulder.
“Devi seguirmi. Stiamo andando verso un veicolo da trasporto fuori di qui,” I told them.
You need to follow me. We’re headed to a transport vehicle out of here.
The words didn’t seem to register for a single woman, yet they followed, stumbling in their actions, motions that would haunt me for days and weeks to come.
As I guided them from the building, I continuously scanned the area. No one was in sight, but my gut told me that other soldiers were in route. They were sophisticated in their methods, enjoying the tools of the trade that money could afford. I pushed the women toward the bank of trees located behind the back entrance, whispering encouraging words while still maintaining a sense of awareness.
A sound caught my attention only six minutes into the hike through the forest. The backup team had already arrived.
“Go. Go. Go!” I shouted in English, praying to fucking God they would listen to me. All five hastened their footsteps, finally running blindly through the trees.
We were close, very close, and I held back guarding the rear, commands in Italian fueling their run to safety.
A van was waiting, one equipped with a bulletproof exterior. The soldiers inside were nearly as well trained as I was, capable of blowing any enemies to oblivion and beyond. After a ten-minute drive, we’d shift to a waiting helicopter, the flight taking us to a US-based hospital located in the middle of nowhere.
From there, they’d be reunited with their families.
I followed behind, cognizant the bastards had gotten our scent. We were so close, so fucking close.
“Continua a correre.”
Keep running, I’d told them.
The fact that they were closing in forced me to alter my plans. I moved behind a tree, lowering the woman gently to the ground. Within seconds, shots were fired.
I fired back, shifting my assault rifle back and forth to try to level the playing field. Fuck. They were still coming.
There was little other choice but to pick up the woman and continue the last few hundred yards. As I blasted through the trees, more shots were fired, some far too close for comfort.
The van was within sight, the other women already being pulled to safety. With only fifty yards to go, I hunkered down and raced toward the open door.
Pop! Pop!
Several more gunshots rang in my ears, but nothing would stop me from getting the last victim to safety.
As one of my own men shouted that they had to leave, I lunged forward.
The single shot fired hit me just below the shoulder, the force of the weapon used pummeling me forward. There was no pain at first, no time to register the injury. The men I trusted pulled us both into the van, the sound of the door slamming echoing in my ears.
I was pulled away from the woman, agony creating an ebbing flow as stars floated in front of my eyes.
The driver sped off to the sound of gunfire all around us. As the woman in my arms was pulled away, I struggled to lift my head, fighting to see her condition.
“Soldier. Look at me,” one of the men ordered.
There were moments when the job I’d been hired to do brought satisfaction. As I finally lifted my head, staring into the man’s eyes, I could sense defeat.
Today wasn’t a good day.
But I would ensure the man responsible for these horrible actions would suffer.
[divider]
Two days later
“Cosa posso offrirti?” the girl behind the beat-up bar asked.
I scanned the bar, loathing the seedy environment. Italy wasn’t immune to the corner establishments where men and women went to get drunk. This one was no exception. At least she wanted to know what I wanted to drink. And God knew I needed one. “Whiskey.”
“Ah, American. Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.” That statement was true. At this point, I was a man without a country. I could tell she was watching me as she grabbed a bottle from the shelf, yanking a glass from under the counter. She slammed it down, pouring a nearly full glass. She’d already gathered that I wasn’t a man to be fucked with.
The mission was almost complete, but I was close to disobeying orders.
Not that I gave a damn.
The fucker had to die.
Giuseppe was expected to arrive any minute.
I chugged almost a third of the drink, hissing from the way the liquor burned the back of my throat. Everything I’d tasted lately had been rotgut shit.
As two men walked into the seedy shithole, I barely glanced in their direction, but I didn’t need to get a better look to grasp that neither of the two was my mark. Goddamn it. The fuckers were still one step ahead. That didn’t mean the men sent to hunt me down didn’t deserve to die. I’d chased Giuseppe through two countries. I was tired. Angry. And I needed two goddamn weeks off.
At least I could send him a message that American pigs weren’t to be fucked with. Maybe I’d continue the hunt, even if it went against orders.
Besides, a vacation wasn’t going to happen. I already had another assignment, yet the location was top secret. What the fuck ever. I didn’t care where the work dragged me. I was a killer by trade, a monster by decision. Fine by me.
As I shifted, a reminder of the horrific event from two days before remained firmly planted in my mind. Revenge was required.
I took another swig, calculating how I’d handle the kill. As luck would have it, one of the men headed for the bathroom. He would become my target. I’d leave the other to spread the joyful news I was still around. It would seem Giuseppe had been unfazed by the small defeat. There were plenty more women to abduct to fill their quotas. He was an arrogant pig, the brother of the man responsible for creating a twisted lottery among the wealthiest of men throughout the world. They believed they had the world by the balls.
They were wrong.
I’d already cased the small joint, happy to see the rear exit. As I yanked the money clip from my pocket, I noticed the bartender’s eyebrows were raised. I always carried cash, but identification was a death sentence. My papers were hidden underneath a floorboard back at the small hotel.
I threw some euros on the counter. Not enough to draw attention to a rich American but more than enough cover the bill. If the chick with the pierced nose knew what was good for her, she’d take the money and keep her damn mouth shut. I threw back the rest of my drink, giving her a nod before rising from the barstool. I didn’t hurry as I made my way into the bathroom. There was no need. The mark wasn’t going anywhere.
Once I was inside, the target’s sounds were just as repulsive as the acts he’d committed. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes briefly as he finished his business.
This was more personal than others, the kill holding some sense of both meaning and urgency. I was eager to go through with my assignment. When he flushed the toilet, I took a deep breath.
This wouldn’t take very long.
As expected, he sensed danger immediately, reaching for the weapon he had holstered to his shoulder. I didn’t give him the opportunity to fire off a shot or yell for help.
Not that anyone would give a shit.
I wrapped my hand around his throat, yanking him off kilter before securing my other hand around his neck. “Presto il tuo inutile fratello ti raggiungerà all’inferno.”
Soon your worthless master will join you in hell.
When he dared to fight back, I smashed his head against the porcelain sink, using that time to secure the hunting knife in my hand. As the blade went through his skin, I envisioned soft butter. But I made certain he would never see the light of day again, using enough force he was close to being decapitated.
My skills were legendary, and the men I hunted were well aware of my existence. But only by reputation. Fuck if the man wasn’t a bleeder. Damn it. I dropped his limp body like a rock, hissing as I glared into the mirror. For the first time in as long as I could remember, specks of blood covered my face.
My handler would call them war wounds.
I called them disgusting.
Grabbing a towel, I turned on the water, rinsing off the knife before wiping my face. It wasn’t about being presentable but about maintaining secrecy.
After taking a quick look at my reflection, I took a long stride over the dead man’s body and out the door. With a single glance down the hallway to ensure I wasn’t being followed, I disappeared out the back door into the night.
No one would ever discover who I was or would ever be able to hunt me down.
Because I was a man who didn’t exist.
[divider]Chapter Two
Three years later
Hunter
I know what you did.
I sat back in my chair, glaring at the text for the third time. From an unknown goddamn source. The crystal glass of whiskey remained in one hand, my cell phone in the other. Was this some kind of joke? I’d done a hell of a lot of things in my thirty-eight years. Enough to know I had dozens, if not hundreds, of enemies. But what I’d done had all been for the betterment of the human race.
Or so I liked to tell myself.
Me: Who the fuck is this?
I waited, still staring at the screen. The other party was using an iPhone, which should mean I’d see the blips when they were typing. Either the text had been sent in error, or they weren’t interested in responding. I debated typing another nasty comment, my thumb poised to do so, but decided against it.
What was the point in getting into a battle of wills with an asshole who insisted on playing games? I took a swig of my drink, no longer tasting the smooth liquor that was usually my favorite beverage. I’d needed a bracer since my brother was about to walk down the proverbial aisle into holy matrimony.
To my mind, there was nothing holy about the state of marriage.
If I had the name of the texting asshole, I could hunt them down within three days. While I no longer remained tight with my previous team, I had favors I could call in if necessary, an emergency number I hadn’t used to date. However, without a doubt the unknown personality could be revealed in less than twenty-four hours.
But I was no longer a special operative and definitely not on the government’s payroll as a hired gun. I was currently serving as a civilian in bum-fuck USA, working at a beautiful—yet boring—mountain resort. I even looked the part of a forgotten-in-time mountain man with a beard and mustache. That was what tourists were looking for, big and rough.
The quick knock couldn’t force me out of my moment of anger. “What?”
My brother Jagger walked in, immediately looking at the time. “Aren’t you grouchy as fuck. Thirty minutes until show-and-glow time. You did bring your tux with you, I assume.”
I nodded toward the couch in my office where I’d tossed the suit bag when I’d walked in.
“You know Shephard will be pissed if you’re late.”
Yeah, my oldest brother could be demanding as fuck. Then again, all three of us were that way.
“Go attend to being his best man. I’ll be there.” With fucking bells on, acting as if I was happy for them.
As soon as Jagger started to leave, I returned my attention to the text, highlighting the screen once again. There was a list of enemies I’d need to think about, but most wouldn’t bother sending a text. They’d crash my party, putting a bullet between my eyes.
“Is something wrong?”
I threw him another look. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“O-kay, if you say so, buddy. Twenty-nine minutes.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughed while I grimaced, clenching my jaw. Whoever had sent me such a happy greeting wasn’t interested in playing. Whatever. I wasn’t going to waste any additional time on the motherfucker. When I stood, I tossed the chair against the wall from the force used.
Before I had a chance to grab the tux and walk out, another text rolled in. The phone still in my hand, I slowly turned the screen so I could see it.
Someone who’s watching you. Waiting.
What the fuck were they waiting for, a personal invitation? Well, they’d need to get in line. When I did allow them time, the brief discussion would be followed by a bullet between their eyes.
[divider]
“Women. Goddamn all of them.” Yes, I was now grumbling out loud. That’s how much she pissed me off.
The woman in question threw me a look before I stormed to another part of the kitchen. One with less… heat. Grimacing, I slammed my hands onto one of the steel tables, jarring plates and silverware stacked and ready for the night’s festivities.
Yes, the woman was insanely talented. In the two months since she’d arrived, she’d brought verve back to every menu. People raved about her food. They came from other cities just for dinner. Some booked a room so they could enjoy more than a single meal. Our sales were up. Our complaints were down.
I should be happy.
Fuck, no.
Esme Dreyfuss drove me batshit crazy. She always had a better way, refusing to acknowledge my position. She was also incredibly eccentric and beautiful. The combination was deadly for a man like me. Even from where I was standing, I could see the sprinkle of freckles covering the bridge of her nose. I’d been thinking for six long weeks about stealing a kiss from her cherry red lips just to see if they tasted as sweet as they looked.
For all I knew, she’d inject me with poison the moment I did something so ‘atrocious,’ as she would say. Her bold curves called out the dominating man in me, but it was her eyes that kept me in a mindlock. They were silver-gray, like a moon shadowed by an upcoming storm. Soulful, yet haunted. She was a smart woman, with the ire of a venomous snake and a thick armor made of steel.
That was why I couldn’t stand her. She’d stood up to me ten times over. No one did that shit.
Being in charge of the dining portion of the goddamn resort once owned by my parents had never been on my bucket list. I was here as a courtesy to my ailing father, roped into staying for a whole fucking year.
I was a licensed, trained killer. Not some babysitter of a prima donna chef.
“Why are you in such a cranky mood on your brother’s wedding day?” Bella stood with her arms folded, glaring at me with one eyebrow raised. “Please don’t tell me it’s because it’s Valentine’s Day weekend.”
Love. It was in the air.
There were red and pink streamers and balloons, cakes decorated with cutesy little hearts, and roses on every table.
“I hate that shit too. There’s no such thing as true love.” As soon as I muttered the words, the woman laughed. Bella was my other brother’s bossy, bratty, and beautiful girlfriend. His words. Somehow, she had my grouchy brother wrapped around her little finger. He acted like he was floating on air lately. Then there was Shephard, the brother getting married. On today of all days.
The couple was as happy as could be, smooching anytime they got a chance.
However, neither their repulsive, lovey-dovey behavior nor the fact that I was a groomsman in my brother’s wedding was the reason for my rotten mood.
My new pain-in-the-ass chef held that distinction.
“That didn’t answer my question.” Bella wasn’t going to give up until I gave her a logical reason.
I grunted like some barbarian instead of providing one.
“Let me guess,” she said, a sly smile crossing her face. “Would your bad mood have something to do with my best friend, your new chef?”
“No!” I issued the single word too sharply.
“Uh-huh. What beef do you have with her?”
“Why? Are you in the resort’s kitchen?”
“Because Denise, the bride-to-be, asked me to check on… things. Did she overhear the two of you fighting?” Now Bella had both eyebrows lifted.
“We weren’t fighting. We were having a professional disagreement on how I wanted the reception handled. As you might be aware, Esme is highly spirited, which our guests adore, but she can be hard-headed as well. Given I’m the boss, what I decide goes. Period. End of story.”
Bella’s smile continued to increase. “Have you shared your feelings with her?” She leaned in, her expression turning mischievous. “And I’m not talking about your need for dominance in the resort.”
I cocked my head, giving her the same look I’d given Esme minutes before.
“She’s infuriating,” I admitted.
“She’s the best chef this resort has ever seen. Admit it.” Bella pointed her long finger in my direction.
“She’s a pain in my…”
“I sense a love story here. You fight. She fights back. You call her names. She does the same. A perfect match.”
Bull. Fucking. Shit. The fact that my new chef was beautiful as sin couldn’t enter into the equation. She pricked my skin.
Sadly, just thinking about her was like rocket fuel leading straight to my cock.
Jagger peeked his head in through the swinging door, almost getting his face bashed in doing so. Foxhead Resort was rocking, given the damn holiday. Every room and every restaurant in the resort was booked for a solid week. “My sweet little Bella. What are you doing in here?”
“Trying to remind your brother this is supposed to be a happy day.”
“I’m fine.” My insistence was met with a roll of Bella’s eyes.
I hated it when my brother snorted like he knew better. “You have five minutes to change, dude. Shephard will kick your butt if you’re two seconds late.”
“You mean Denise will kick it,” Bella piped in.
“As I said. Women. Can’t live with them and can’t fucking live with them.” My moods had gotten worse the last couple of weeks. Maybe it was the sixth sense rolling around in my head. Or the damn nightmares I’d had. The same kind I’d warned my brother about during his darkest phase. Yeah, I’d told him to seek help in dealing with his demons, but I wasn’t the kind of man to take my own advice.
“Get dressed, brother. Bella is right. This is a celebration,” Jagger told me, his expression as amused as the one Bella had given me.
Bella grinned before walking out of the kitchen, leaving me to take a deep breath.
The door leading from another one of the dining rooms was slammed open, Esme muttering something to the waitress following closely behind.
“Make certain the sternos are flaming when I give you the cue. The wedding ceremony should take fifteen minutes, tops. The food needs to be out the moment the guests move into the ballroom. Do you understand?” Esme’s request was more like a demand.
“Yes, chef,” the waitress muttered, her harried look a reflection of her despondency.
“Good. I think we’re almost ready.” Esme clapped her hands, lifting her head. The moment she noticed I’d dared to remain inside her kitchen, she cocked her pretty head and grimaced.
There was such extreme electricity between us anytime we were in the same room that I was shocked the entire area hadn’t burst into flames.
Even the sous chef moved out of the way as Esme advanced. She was a force to be reckoned with, her quirky ways something a person would either consider annoying or adorable. Since I found her brash and intolerable, I was leaning toward the hate side of the equation.
For some unknown reason other than that Shephard’s soon-to-be wife was still relatively new to town, Esme was a bridesmaid. I was used to seeing the annoying chef in black pants and a chef’s coat. While it had been one hell of a long time since I’d savored either the company or touch of a woman, the dress chosen for the celebration snagged every bit of my attention.
She appeared as if poured into the dress, the fiery crimson color accentuating the fire in her eyes, the thin material hugging every inch of her voluptuous curves. I’d need to be completely dead not to appreciate such beauty.
Of course she noticed my lasting gaze, amused at my actions. I didn’t need a lesson in dealing with a difficult woman to tell what she was thinking. This bozo thinks he’s going to rip off my thong.
Well, that was the furthest thing from my mind.
Okay, to be honest with myself and no one else, I had thought too many times about sliding my hand down the front of her trousers, flicking the tip of my finger across her sweet clit. Call me barbaric in my thinking, but it had been long enough since I’d been with a woman that I had no ability to think any differently.
That didn’t mean I would act on my desires. Nope. Not this man.
“You didn’t secure the extra staff we needed for today. Did you?” Since day two, Esme had been accusatory when making suggestions. Most employers would fire her sweet ass on day three, but her spunk had awakened something inside of me. For good or bad, she’d wormed her way into the world of Foxhead Resort and Winery.
“There were none available. It is fucking Valentine’s Day weekend.”
“What do you have against the holiday?”
“Try everything. Love is bullshit.”
“At least we agree on something,” Esme huffed. “I’m going to need your assistance for the reception if we’re going to pull this off. And we will make the event a success. Do you hear me?”
There were about a dozen things I wanted to spout off to the arrogant woman and likely should. I was a fucking Navy SEAL, for God’s sake. In my career, I’d gotten used to barking orders instead of taking them.
“Fine,” I snapped. “But you’ll owe me.”
“Fine. Be careful what you ask for.”
“Dolore al culo.”
She winked before heading to the door leading to the lobby. “I’ve been called a pain in the ass more times than I can count. Cowboy.”
Great. She knew Italian as well. Cowboy? Jesus Christ.
The woman was going to be the death of me.
[divider]Chapter Three
Esme
Come to the Shenandoah Mountains, girlfriend, my bestie in the whole world had told me. It’s beautiful here, so peaceful. That much Bella had been right about. Her statement that there were dozens of hot men in town had been her first lie. There were none.
Well, with the exception of the Fox brothers, all three of them. I slowly turned my head as Hunter walked into the ballroom with a tray of goodies in his hands. He and I had sparred continuously. I was honestly shocked he hadn’t fired me. Yes, I should learn to respect authority since he was one-third owner, but something inside the man sparked my fury.
As well as desire that I’d squashed dozens of times.
“You managed to secure help for the reception,” Bella told me, a super-sized grin on her face. We were currently waiting on the sidelines while Shephard and Denise enjoyed their first dance. At least I was currently sipping expensive champagne, instead of melting inside the hot kitchen. “Hot too.”
“He’s okay,” I told her, taking a deep breath and purposely looking away. Yet his stunning good looks constantly drew my attention. Every time he walked into a room, my entire body tensed, which disturbed the hell out of me. He was annoying at best, his actions and words driving me batshit crazy. But he was a looker, I’d give him that.
With broad shoulders capable of overtaking a doorway, long, muscular legs that defied logic, and a chiseled jaw incapable of being hidden under the scruff of fur on his face, he was the epitome of a hot male.
If only I could tolerate being around him.
“What is it with the man anyway?” I barked out. “He’s surly, arrogant, unforgiving, and truly believes he’s all that and a huge bag of chips.”
Bella choked on her sip of bubbly. “I think you like him. In fact, I think you have the hots for the man.”
“Bullshit,” I exclaimed a little too loudly. My voice had carried into the room, past the music and raucous laughter. I’d always been considered a loudmouth, incapable of controlling my emotions. So what?
“Uh-huh. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Like you’re soulmates.”
“You’re so different since arriving in this little bitty town.”
“How so?”
“You’re sappy as hell. Lovestruck. I’ll be standing right here two months from now, gloating at still being single while you’re dancing to some sappy tune with your new husband. I’ll both congratulate you and feel sorry for your future at the same time.”
“Men aren’t all that bad. Besides, I’m not getting married. Yet.” Bella laughed. I’d never seen her so happy, and after everything she’d been through with her ex-husband, she deserved nothing but happiness. I was determined to remain single for the rest of my life. “Anyway, I don’t think Jagger wants to get married.”
“See? You look like you’re going to cry.”
“The last thing I need to do is get remarried. You know why.”
Yeah, I did. If only I’d run over her ex like I’d threatened to do months before.
“But Cally adores him, right?” Cally was the most adorable little girl in the entire world. She was the spitting image of her mother. I could imagine what her teenage years would be like.
“Oh, God. He’s her favorite person in town, other than her puppy Xena. Look how she is with him.” Bella pointed to where her little mini-me was standing. Right beside Jagger.
“I will say—I approve of the way Jagger treats her.”
Bella laughed. “That’s good, since you’d kick his ass if he didn’t.”
“You bet I would. If only Hunter was nice like his brother.”
“Uh-huh. You do remember you work for him. Right?” she asked.
Sighing, I made a funny face. “I know.”
“That means you need to be at least cordial with him so you can keep your job. Especially since you moved all the way across the country at the cost of several prized possessions.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I’d sold more than half of my furniture so my stuff could fit in a smaller moving van. Unfortunately, the company I’d hired had tasked two men with the combined IQs of maybe fifty to drive the contents from point A to point B. They’d turned the normally five-hour drive into three days, their late arrival blamed on bad directions.
Did they not know GPS existed?
Worse, more than half the boxes of fragile items had arrived broken, some smashed into tiny pieces. It had looked like they’d used my carefully packed and protected storage crates as footballs.
“When are you going to replace your china and glassware anyway?” Bella was laughing at me.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my festive plasticware?”
“Well… I prefer the kid’s sippy cup you purchased at that thrift store. But the Superman plates are cool too.” She couldn’t stop laughing.
“Fine. We’ll go shopping after our lunch date tomorrow.”
Bella held out her hand. “You’re on, but I’m going to hold you to purchasing something. You need to make the house you rented look lived in.”
Instead of an eclectic mess. I knew it.
It was impossible to keep my eyes off Hunter. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket and rolled up his white sleeves. The few times he’d exposed the tats on both arms, I’d drooled like some hapless teenager.
Even now, I found myself shivering from the lurid thoughts refusing to give my mind a rest. “What exactly is wrong with the men in this town anyway? I dropped by Poppy’s Diner the other night, and a man I didn’t know dropped onto one knee and proposed marriage. Who does that shit?”
“The question is—what time were you there, and was he drunk?”
“Very funny,” I chirped, noticing she was tapping her high heel on the floor. “Fine. It was after work, and a couple of the girls dragged me to Shackles for a drink, then Poppy’s for the best pancakes in the world.” At least being introduced to the local hot bar and gossipy diner had been a high point in moving here.
Yes, I’d required a new life, but the change from living in Baltimore for so many years continued to be a difficult adjustment.
“Men are the same everywhere. When you find a good one, you toss him some bait, then reel him in for the kill.” She gave me a little nod after making the statement.
She could make me laugh more than any person I’d ever met, which was what we were both doing now. “You’re incorrigible. I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your wicked sense of humor.”
“I’m serious, though. Ask him out. What do you have to lose?”
“Um, first of all, I can’t stand him. Then there’s this thing in the corporate handbook about not fraternizing with colleagues.” I took a gulp of champagne. Yes, I was hot and bothered all over.
“You’re lying to yourself.”
I almost choked. As I snapped my head in her direction, her eyes grew wider, the damn smirk she was so good at giving me suddenly plastered on her face. “Don’t look now, but the man you’re pining away for, coming close to slobbering over, is walking toward you.”
“I’m going to kick your ass,” I snapped through clenched teeth, but of course my bestie noticed as I smoothed down the body-hugging dress. I loved pretty things, but the flaming red dress just wasn’t my style. Not in the least. Still, I adopted her plastered smile, laughing at nothing as he approached.
Bella made a funny face and starting slinking away like the bad friend she was. “Gotta check on Cally.”
When Hunter didn’t say a single word, not even snarking his usual nasty comments, I was certain he’d gone off in another direction. Damn the man. And why did I care?
I rolled my eyes from being disgusted with myself and spun around. The hard thud felt as if I’d hit a brick wall. It was close to the truth, the wall of muscle jarring to the point that the remainder of my champagne was tossed directly into my boss’ face.
“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath.
Hunter’s eyes were closed, his jaw permanently molded into a clenched position, as it was most of the time when around me.
“Yeah, fuck,” he repeated and slowly wiped his face.
As I would with anyone else, I yanked a napkin from the buffet table, trying my best to wipe his face and chest. Why were my fingers tingling?
And why did he just grab my hand? The move shot a jolt of current with tremendous power from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.
His grin was partially infectious, mostly evil.
“Are you going to say you’re sorry?” he asked, although to my mind, the question sounded more like a demand.
“Sorry isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“I thought so. I knew the kind of woman you were from the day I met you.”
“And what exactly is that kind of woman?” I jerked my hand free, almost forced to take a deep breath from the still tingling vibrations. I planted the same hand on my hip, glaring at him. He’d done nothing but pick at me for almost two months. My food. My clothing. My jewelry. My shoes, for fuck’s sake. Was I supposed to wear rubber clogs in boring black? Not this girl. I had them in every color of the rainbow. My sizzling purple ones were my favorites.
He’d had the nerve to call me a purple people eater. Whatever the hell that meant.
“The kind of woman who needs to be taken over a man’s knee.” He took a single stride closer. His close proximity, his glorious musky aftershave, and his massive body almost made me swoon like a lovesick puppy.
Almost.
His comment shocked me so badly, I didn’t retort right away like I normally would. In fact, I was so rattled, I spun on my heel, grabbing an almost empty tray to refill one last time. If I didn’t get far enough away from him, I might use one of the sharp knives on that gorgeous face of his.
“What’s wrong, Chef Dreyfuss? Can’t take the heat?”
I stopped short, shoring up my shoulders and issuing a sharp growl. As I slowly started to turn around, I finally noticed guests were watching our temper tantrum, including the bride and groom. They’d stopped dancing, gawking at us as if we’d turned into purple aliens.
“How. Fucking. Dare. You.” I came this close to using the tray as a dangerous Frisbee, aiming at his bigger-than-life head. I was positive I wouldn’t miss.
“Oh, yeah?” he countered loudly.
“Oh. Yeah, big boy.” I threw my head back in an act of defiance, spun around again, and took slow and purposeful strides out of the room. Did I just hear several guests applauding our scene?
Oh, God. I was mortified. No man had gotten under my skin the way he had. No man had brought spots of blood in front of my eyes like that thick-headed Navy SEAL. And no man had ever made me want to drive a stake through his heart. Okay, so the last mental statement wasn’t accurate, but Hunter Fox was by far the worst.
I couldn’t hurry into the kitchen fast enough. I sucked in a breath, holding it so I wouldn’t let off a primal scream. Why had I allowed the man to get to me so badly?
As soon as I walked in, I noticed the three employees inside jumped away. Maybe I’d been too harsh on them, but I blamed the hot man one thousand percent.
Thankfully, I could fume in private soon enough. At least this kitchen had been set aside to serve the reception only. I’d tasked the restaurant manager and second sous chef to watch the other kitchens in use for the dining room and grill. I’d spent enough time smiling for the happy couple. I was happy for them, but their joy reminded me of the asshole I’d dated not long ago. At least I’d discovered his infidelity early on.
Men were jerks. All of them.
“Go ahead and take a break. I’ll get the rest of the food out. Then we’ll clean up.”
The three of them eyed me cautiously.
That was the moment Hunter decided to waltz in. “Do you know what you are, lady?”
“You already told me in Italian. A pain in the ass.”
His entire brow furrowed, and for the life of me, I thought it added to his handsome yet highly dangerous persona. The hunky jerk was like a mountain man meant for a magazine ad.
With his dirty blond hair and light green eyes the color of fresh grass in the spring, he could be any woman’s perfect fantasy.
Not mine.
Never mine.
“Yeah? Well, you’re a hotheaded chef with a nasty attitude.” He tried to back me against the counter.
I skirted out of his way, noticing the three staff members were enjoying the row. If they had popcorn in their hands, it would make for a perfect Friday evening matinee.
“Out!” I barked at them.
“See? You hate everything and everyone in your life,” Hunter threw in.
“I don’t hate everyone. I adore Bella and her daughter. Even her puppy. Your brothers seem very nice. You’re the only one around here I can’t stand. Out!” I told the employees again.
“Lady. You don’t know me.”
“And I don’t want to know you.”
He sucked in a breath and we both looked toward the staff members, close to shouting at the same time. “Out!”
I’d never seen three people scurry so fast in my life.
When we were alone, I slammed the silver platter onto the stainless-steel table, enjoying the clattering sound as I grinned at him.
I’ll be damned if he didn’t do exactly the same thing, his grin more devilish than before.
“You arrogant ass,” I hissed, take a step toward him.
“Beats being a pain in the ass.” He eased closer.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We were maybe one inch apart. I could smell the glass of bourbon he’d indulged in on his breath. The warm scent mixed with the exotic spices in his aftershave, and I was instantly lightheaded.
“You need to learn a lesson,” he breathed, his tone lower and husky, so much so that another shiver drifted down my spine.
“Maybe so, but you’re not going to be the one to teach it to me.” I thudded my palm against his chest and the bull of a man didn’t budge a single inch. Not. One. Inch.
I had the sudden urge to knead his chest, but denied myself the pleasure. He would get far too much of a thrill from me doing that.
“Back off, buster,” I told him. I was pushing my luck, and I knew it, still unable to figure out why I was coming as close to being fired as humanly possible. This was a dream job, and I’d found a perfect, quaint house to live in nestled near the mountains. The air was clean, the streets were safe to walk, and I was making a fortune in comparison to what I’d made at the restaurant where I’d worked before. I’d thought of it as being an indentured servant.
So why was I pushing my luck these last few weeks?
“I don’t think so.”
“I think so.”
The bantering wasn’t unusual, but there was more of a sense of urgency, the wave of electricity so intense that I was coming close to suffocating. The entire situation was nuts.
I was certain by the crazy look in his eyes that I’d reached the end of my rope. He was about to toss me out the door with not so much as a ‘don’t let the door hit you in the ass.’ But he didn’t.
Hunter did something that would end up being the shocker of the night.
He jerked me into his arms, wrapping one hand around the back of my neck.
Then he crushed his mouth over mine.
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