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  His fingers wrapped around the trigger, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell as he hit the door to the fourth floor, shoving it open, racing down the hall to the door of 4F.

  He rammed his shoulder against it, feeling pain erupt along his arm. He heard a thud from inside, shuffling of feet. He didn’t stop, didn’t think, didn’t try to process anything. Instead, he flung himself at the door again, hitting just above the knob, hearing the answering splinter of wood as it flew open.

  “Freeze,” he yelled.

  Bella stood in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes round and wide with fear, her skin as pale as her slip, her mouth hanging open in a silent plea.

  Behind her stood Leo, a gun to her temple, an arm wrapped around her throat, slowly choking the life out of her.

  “Get away from her,” Dale commanded. He held the 45 straight out in front of him, his stance solid, his finger loose on the trigger, his eyes shooting a bullet sized hole right between the bastard’s eyes.

  Even while his insides shook so hard he thought he might throw up.

  Leo didn’t answer, instead tightened his grip on Bella’s neck, lifting her off the floor.

  She let out a gurgling sound, her toes skimming the kitchen tiles, dangling beneath her as she clawed at Leo’s arm.

  “Let. Her. Go.” Dale ground the words out, calculating just how much time he had before Bella’s world went black.

  “Fuck you,” Leo spat back. The eloquent words of a desperate man.

  Dale knew from experience that desperate men had nothing to loose.

  And he wasn’t taking that chance.

  Not with Bella.

  He fired off three rounds, one right after another. The first caught Leo in the shoulder, swinging the gun from his hand. The second in the knee, dropping him to the ground. The third in the middle of his chest, silencing any further debate as an ugly red stain spread across the kitchen floor.

  Bella fell to her knees, gasping, crawling as far away from Leo as she could. Her hands instinctively went to her throat where the red outline of the bastard’s fingers stood stark against her pale skin.

  Dale’s hands shook as he shoved the gun into his waistband again, knelt beside her.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her wide eyes met his. She silently shook her head back and forth.

  “It’s all right, it’s over now.” He took her by the hand, leading her to the sofa, away from the body staining her kitchen tiles.

  “Who…” She faltered, her voice coming out on a choked sob. “Who are you?”

  “Agent Dale Langley. FBI.”

  Her gaze cut to the body on the floor, her jaw clenching, eyes going hard, the sharp defense attorney in her rising to the surface. “And him?” she asked.

  “Leonardo Beckett. His mother is Anna Gianni Beckett.”

  “Gianni.” It was a statement not a question. “As in Aldo Gianni.”

  Dale nodded, watching the same pieces he’d picked up earlier falling into place behind her eyes. “Aldo’s sister. It was Leo’s job to make sure his uncle’s former attorney never took the stand about what she’d seen. What you’d seen,” he added softly.

  Bella nodded, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I should have known,” she whispered.

  “How could you?”

  They shot open. “I’m a defense attorney for Christ sakes, it’s my job to know when people are lying.”

  “Clients, yes.” He remembered how often she’d checked her silent voicemail, how she’d come home, alone, every night, the unseen man across the street her only companion. It wasn’t her fault she’d wanted to believe in Leo. “But love turns even the most intelligent people into morons. It…” he paused. Cleared his throat. “It can make even the best of us lose it.”

  “I didn’t love him,” Bella said softly. Even though he could tell that was only half true. Maybe she hadn’t yet, but she’d quickly been falling.

  He looked down. Her hands were shaking. He took one in his.

  “I didn’t have time for a silencer. I’m sure one of your neighbors has called the police by now. Reporters won’t be far behind. We need to get you out of here.”

  She jerked her hand away. “I told the feds I didn’t want witness protection,” she protested.

  “I know.”

  She turned to face him. And something shifted in her eyes, sudden understand lighting them. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? That’s how you knew Leo was…” She trailed off, shot up from the sofa and crossed to the windows. Her eyes immediately locked on his Festiva across the street.

  Her voice came out flat. “You’ve been watching me.”

  Dale paused. Then nodded.

  “How long?”

  “Long enough.”

  She shook her head. “This is a fucking nightmare.”

  “Look, I understand this is scary. If you aren’t up to testifying this week, we can get a continuance, but I need…”

  But she cut him off. “Oh, I’m testifying all right.” Her eyes blazed. “You bet your ass I’m testifying. First Gianni thinks he can bully me into doing his dirty work for him, then he thinks he can silence me? Put a hit out on me? Fuckers don’t know who they’re dealing with.” She crossed her arms over her chest, indignation radiating from her tiny form.

  And Dale couldn’t help but smile.

  She caught him. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing less than I’ve come to expect of you.”

  She cocked her head at him. But didn’t comment. Instead, she said, “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “About?”

  “I do want protection.”

  He nodded, relief flooding his system. As much as he wanted to see Gianni behind bars, the evening had taken about ten years off his life. The thought of Bella exposed again wasn’t something he thought he could stomach.

  “Under one condition,” she hedged.

  “Name it.”

  “You.”

  He paused. “Me?”

  She nodded. “You’re good. Before I could even call for help, you were here. Hell, you knew before I did that I even needed help. I want you. Watching me.”

  He needed to sleep. He needed a shower, a decent meal, a day to clear his head, remember who he was, what life looked like outside a pair of binocular lenses.

  But he felt himself nodding.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Her shoulders sagged, tension draining out. She licked her lips. “Promise?”

  He nodded again. “Promise. Now, let’s get you out of here.”

  “Okay. But I have one more condition,” she said as he took her hand, led her from the room.

  “What?”

  “We’re taking my car.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “There’s no way I’m riding around town in that shit Festiva.”

  He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward. Then the other. Then a full blown laugh escaped him. When was the last time he’d laughed. Days? Weeks? It felt good.

  “Baby, I’ll get you a limo if you want one, let’s just get the hell out of here.”

  She smiled then, too. A tiny one.

  But it was a start.

  * * * * *

  MARK OF A BOND GIRL

  * * * * *

  “Look alive, Maya. Your mark’s at twelve o’clock.”

  I swiveled in my chair, watching the glass doors swing open and a tall, lean man in a button-down shirt walk in.

  I froze. Instantly paralyzed in my wooden chair as I followed his progress across the crowded Starbucks toward the barista with the nose piercing and bright red pigtails.

  “Oh. Shit.” I gulped down the shock that had settled in my throat. “No way.”

  “Do you have a visual?” my earpiece buzzed. But I scarcely heard it, my entire being focused on him. Those angular features, that dark hair, those unnaturally blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he exchanged banalities with the barista.


  No way could it be him.

  “Maya? Talk to me, girl. Dark hair, blue jeans, white button down. Tell me you have a visual?”

  The sound of panic creeping into Danny’s voice in my ear snapped me back to reality. I spun around in my chair, turning my back to the mark, letting my dark hair fall across my face in a lame attempt at staving off recognition.

  “Danny I cannot do this,” I whispered into the mic’d ruby broach pinned to the lapels of my low-cut blazer. The file on our mark had said he was partial to corporate types. I’d done my best to dress the part – tailored skirt, slit up the thigh high enough to show off my dedication to the gym, white blouse unbuttoned dangerously low, three inch stilettos strapped over freshly manicured toes. I was “corporate piece of ass” to a tee.

  Only now I realized I could have shown up in a grubby t-shirt and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. Goddammit, it could not be him!

  “Sure you can, kid,” Danny’s voice reassured me. “Just breathe. Stick to the script and you’ll do fine.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I can’t do this with him. He’s…” I trailed off, struggling for the words to explain just who he was. I snuck a glance at him through my curtain of hair. He was taking his coffee to a table near the back. A triple shot soy latte. Not that his paper cup looked any different from all the others in the place, but I knew that was his usual order. Or at least, it had been.

  He sat down and unfolded a newspaper to the sports section. He crossed one leg casually over the other, leaning back in his chair. Dark stubble dusted his jaw, giving him a rugged look despite the expensive fit of his dress shirt across his wide shoulders. He sipped his coffee, his eyes intent on last night’s baseball scores, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was being watched.

  For now.

  “Not him,” I whispered urgently into my lapels. “Danny, this is a mistake. I cannot do this. What about Anya? Or Caleigh? One of them can run this play.”

  “The Boss said it was yours.”

  “I cannot do this, Danny. Not with… him.”

  “Kid, we’ve got one shot at this guy. This is it. You’re it. Work your magic, girl.”

  “No, Danny, I-”

  But the telltale static click told me he’d already disconnected.

  Actually, I’d been lucky he’d stayed on this long. As soon as a mark appeared, you cut off communication with surveillance. The Boss’s rule. A woman sitting in the corner talking to herself wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

  I took a deep breath. Then snuck another look at the guy in the corner. He’d moved on to the business section. Not surprising. He owned holdings in a dozen or more companies.

  At least he had.

  I took another deep breath.

  Okay, so obviously the play had changed. Obviously I couldn’t go with the beautiful stranger who just happened upon him at Starbucks. Strangers we were not. In fact we’d been about as far from that as possible at one point. We’d almost been…

  I gave myself a mental shake. That didn’t matter now. What mattered was that I’d been hired to do a job and dammit, I was going to do it.

  I took a sip from the tepid coffee in front of me and gathered my courage. He was a mark, nothing more.

  One more big breath.

  My earpiece crackled to life. “Quit it, you’re going to hyperventilate.”

  I resisted the urge to give the camera in my broach the finger.

  I got up, grabbing my cold latte, and crossed the room. Slowly, even though it killed me. Even though all I wanted to do was get this over with and get out as quickly as possible.

  The room moved past me in slow motion, my stomach knotting, churning over itself, until I was there, standing in front of his table.

  “Brandon?”

  He glanced up from his paper and I nearly fell over from the force of those blue eyes on me. They’d always had that effect, so piercing, so oddly pale in contrast to the dark, dangerous air that naturally surrounded him. It worked to his advantage in the boardroom. And it was just as unnerving here. I fought back emotion, ignoring the knot traveling from my stomach into a tight ball in my chest. Especially when his deep, grainy voice said my name.

  “Maya?”

  Get a grip, girl. You’ve got a job to do.

  I flipped my hair over one shoulder – I knew he loved it when I did that – and slapped a big, flirty smile on my face.

  “Brandon, my goodness, what a surprise. I haven’t seen you in ages. What has it been? Three years?”

  “Five,” he responded flatly. He glanced behind me almost as if wondering where I’d come from. Where the hell I’d been for the last five years.

  “May I?” I asked, indicating the empty chair across from him.

  His eyes still held that unspoken question, though he nodded and folded his paper, setting it aside.

  “Business good?” I asked, gesturing to the Times.

  He nodded again. “Very.” His eyes gave me a slow assessment. “And you? How have you been?”

  I told myself he didn’t care. He was just being polite. His concern for my well being had ended the day I’d… it had ended a long time ago. He was being polite. Nothing more.

  Even if his eyes did rest on my lips just a little too long.

  “Fine,” I lied.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it. You deserve to be… fine.”

  I felt my smile falter just a moment, but quickly recovered. “And you?” I asked. “How have you been?” I looked down at his left hand where a shiny, gold wedding band graced his fourth finger. “Married life treating you well?” I was proud to say that my voice didn’t waiver the slightest as I choked the words out.

  He looked down at his hand as if he’d somehow forgotten the band there. He quickly pulled it back into his lap, covering the telltale ring from sight. “It’s fine.”

  Great. I was fine. He was fine. We were both fine. Now what?

  If he’d been a regular mark, I would have had him eating out of my hand by now. But, given our history, Brandon wasn’t likely to fall for any of the usual plays. Goddamn Danny for not telling me who he was. I bit my lip, trying to think what to say next.

  A half smile tugged at the corner of Brandon’s lips as he watched me. “You still do that?”

  “What?”

  “Bite your lip. I swear you used to eat a tube of lipstick a day off those lips of yours.”

  I immediately released my lower lip.

  “Yeah, well, I guess some things never change,” I mumbled, ducking my head so he wouldn’t see the heat flooding my cheeks.

  “Oh I wouldn’t say that. You’ve changed.”

  I looked up again to find him giving me a slow up and down. I wondered if he realized his eyes were resting on my cleavage area.

  “Well, you haven’t,” I shot back to cover the uncomfortable rush of hormones flooding my system.

  And it was true. He hadn’t changed. He looked exactly the same. Maybe a couple more lines at the corners of his eyes, maybe a hint more of a tan. But it was still the same man. The same masculine air about him that had me on the edge of my seat just being in the same room as him. I inhaled involuntarily, knowing that the scent of Hilfiger aftershave would hit my nostrils.

  “So, what have you been doing with yourself, Maya?” he asked.

  I gave myself a mental shake. Right, small talk. I could do this. I glanced out the window. Danny’s van was there, parked across the street, the plain white exterior betraying nothing of the sophisticated computer equipment inside. The Boss spared no expense when it came to surveillance. Mostly because she expected results, I reminded myself.

  “Oh, you know,” I said, leaning in, laying a flirtatious hand on his arm. His eyes immediately went to it. “Same old, same old.”

  His eyes didn’t leave my hand. “Still working at that little coffee shop?”

  I tilted my head back and let out an attempt at a “tinkling” laugh. “Oh, God, I haven’t thought about that place in a
ges. No, I’m… I’m onto bigger and better things.” I gave him a deep look through my carefully applied fake eyelashes. And moved my hand from his arm to his right thigh. “But enough about me. I want to hear about you. What have you been up to?”

  I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his breath quicken. I squeezed my fingers around his knee and felt his thigh tense beneath my hand. Involuntarily, I licked my lips. God, I’d missed the feel of him. I felt my own breath speed up even as his eyes got that glossed over look that said he was picturing me naked. Something that shouldn’t be too hard. He’d seen it enough times.

  We sat like that for a full two seconds, his throat bobbing up and down, my hand squeezing, my head flooding with a million memories I thought I’d long ago buried as warring emotions bubbled up in my throat.

  Finally he broke the silence.

  “Okay, Maya. Cut the bullshit. What the hell are you really doing here?”

  Oh. Hell.

  I removed my hand, running it though my hair. I did a wide-eyed thing, blinking. “What do you mean?”

  He propped both elbows on the table, leaned in close. “The coy act is cute. But this was no chance meeting, was it? What did you do, follow me here?”

  I gulped. I could almost hear Danny sweating in the truck. Well, fuck it. It was Danny’s fault anyway. He should have told me who the mark was.

  I bit my lip and dropped the flirty act. I leaned both of my elbows on the table, mirroring his posture until I was inches from his face.

  “Yes.”

  My earpiece crackled to life. “Maya, what are you doing?” came Danny’s warning tone.

  “Yes, I followed you here. You’re being set up, Brandon.”

  “Maya!” Danny hissed.

  I ignored him. “Your wife hired the private investigation agency I work for to get proof that you’ve been unfaithful.”

  “Goddammit it, Maya,” Danny said and I could hear him throwing something heavy – and no doubt expensive – in the van.

  “Been catting around, Brandon?” I asked his shocked face. Then paused. “Again.”