Delta: Rescue: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) Page 7

  The elevator chimed, and as he jumped in, his mind raced to the team. Cade knew he’d gone out to get his fighting fix, but if he heard Luke left with her, that’d be problematic.

  Still bare chested and looking like he did—angry, dangerous, and horny as all hell—he earned his fair share of second glances from hotel guests. Surely someone was going to send security up to the penthouse to make sure Maddy was still kicking. He laughed. It’d take quite the man to fuck up that woman. She was ice cold, a total lunatic. A stabbing sensation hit his chest—if someone did hurt her, or if she hadn’t been lying… He shook his head. If someone hurt her, one fewer trafficker would exist. That was his goal in life, so what did he care if this one was a pretty face who had never been touched?

  Her words haunted his memory. What was her promise—she wasn’t like what she seemed? That she had more than a surface-level need to retaliate. Who bought women only to save them? No one. Except Madeleine Mercier.

  Luke ran his hands over his face as he exited the hotel. He had miles to his crash pad, and rolling his shoulders once, he took off at a run. He’d push himself again, hoping to feel a burn in his muscles, and maybe that ache would draw out the sweet sound of her voice trying to explain how she’d never been with a man before.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Mercier office did not possess the same swank feel as Love. Maddy acted different here. Cold, more ruthless.

  Hale loomed over what was basically a negotiation. His sidearm on his waist and his bulky arms crossed over his wide chest, he looked the part he was to play, the muscle. Sitting in front of her was Felipe Rivera’s great uncle, a wealthy cartel man who wanted to throw money at the Mercier-Rivera problem. The man didn’t want bad blood between their families, and he was making amends for Felipe, who had already been sprung from federal custody. But US federal agents were not Rivera’s concern. He was concerned that she would exact her revenge against Felipe, which she would, and he wanted to make sure Papa was not irritated, which he was.

  Maddy pursed her lips together. “Nothing, Mr. Rivera, that you’ve said changes my mind.”

  He’d gone from haughty to indignant to knowing. A thin sheen of sweat decorated his forehead. Miami’s harsh heat wasn’t making him perspire. The office was cool, almost to the point of cold. The uncertainty that danced in his eyes was an indication of fear. “We’re all in business together.”

  “We are not.”

  “To some extent—”

  “No, we are not.”

  “Ms. M—”

  “I don’t like you, and I despise your nephew. He was wrong to teach my father a lesson with my girl. For as much as this is business between our families, I want you gone.”

  He leaned back, a shimmer of relief working its way across his features. “I think we both know that I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t have the clout to make that happen.”

  “We both know that your nephew will continue to be hunted.”

  His lips went flat again. “This conversation is a joke.”

  “He will go to jail for rape.”

  The uncle shook his head, as confident about his disagreement as her father was with his law-enforcement dealings. “The charges will never stick.”

  Maddy’s molars ground. “I hope they don’t. I hope Felipe roams the wild, waiting for the day that he”—she nodded toward Hale—“finds him.”

  Hale growled his interest and agreement.

  “He’s a barracuda.” Maddy smiled. “Even meaner than he looks.”

  Rivera failed to hide a concerned glare. “What do you want?”

  “He’ll take a beating. But live. And you get out of South Florida. No more business with Mercier.”

  “He lives, and I get out of Miami.”

  “No.”

  His brow furrowed. “He lives, and we’re out of business with Mercier.”

  Maddy smiled. “Deal.”

  “He lives.”

  “Those are the terms. Now, leave.”

  This was not a man used to being bossed around. Bristling, he regained the composure that made him feared on the streets and stormed out.

  Asshole.

  Hale sauntered over, still glaring, but he fell into the chair that Rivera had been in. “Doing okay?”

  “Of course,” she snapped. But no, she was wound up more tightly than a cokehead in detox.

  His all-knowing eyes narrowed, but he let it drop. “Schedule says you’re scouting tonight.”

  “That’s what it says, that’s what I’m doing.” Though after going one-on-one with the elder Rivera, she wanted to search for girls to save, not models who needed a sandwich. But she couldn’t do the first one without the cover of the second, and truthfully, she did find enjoyment in that side of her business also. Dreams were made. Beautiful things were noticed—Maddy had made a point to find the models who weren’t considered perfect by society standards. Then she kicked society’s opinion on its ass when her models strutted their stuff. For what had once been awkward, with her light shining on it, was now hip. What had been considered a flaw was now a selling point.

  She took a calming breath, trying to tap into the control that lassoed her anxiousness. “Yes, Hale. Tonight’ll be good.”

  “You need to blow off some steam.”

  She smiled. The man knew her better than most. “True.”

  “Get yourself some fancy cocktail, do your thing, then try to relax.”

  Hale recognized everything that was Love and Mercier. They’d never been attracted to each other, nor had he given much advice on her plan to dismantle Mercier, but he was one of the only people who knew all about her virgin status, so where he might tell someone else to get laid, he would just tell her to relax.

  “Maybe.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “What?” she asked, feeling the intense gaze of a man determined to get answers.

  “Know about that boy at Mira House.”

  Her tight smile pinched downward. “Whatever you think you know, nothing came of it.” Her lips quirked. “Even if I wanted it.”

  “Interesting.” He sat on the edge of her desk. “You two are cut from different cloth.”

  “Not at much as you would think.”

  “Heard he was at the fights.”

  Maddy smoothed her palms on her desk. “You heard a lot, Hale.”

  “I did.” His handsome, scowling face tilted. “He drove the Lotus?”

  Her eyes sank shut, and she breathed in deeply, remembering the power in Luke’s command, the feel of the sports car under his control, and his body teasing hers at the penthouse. “Yes.”

  “Not sure he’s good for you.”

  “Not sure I want good for me,” she volleyed back.

  “An asshole like that could hurt you in several ways.”

  Maddy tossed her head back, in her designer dress, surrounded by her perfect office, everything sexy and vibrant. “I wanted to find out what it was like. I felt something with him.”

  “Not like that. He’s the authorities.” He shook his head. “Careful. Always be careful. You’ve worked so hard on one thing. Don’t suddenly find your mojo and mess it all up.”

  She didn’t want to be careful, though. She wanted Luke, and the high from him would be enough to live off of if she never felt this way again. But Luke Brenner was gone. She knew it. The fighter-protector who brandished a gun as quickly as he threw his fists had disappeared from Miami and wanted nothing to do with her.

  The pop music beat vibrated in the VIP section. Expensive champagne chilled in buckets, and an entourage of staff surrounded her, but Maddy remained on edge. Her eyes roamed the crowd. A few faces slowed her search as her people brought talent by to introduce. Those ladies stayed, drinking bubbly and trying to figure out how best to finagle a spot as a Love model. God forbid anyone earn a spot because they were worth it, not because of what they could provide.

  Maddy pinched her eyes shut and let the music’s energy run through her. Ignori
ng the world, she sipped the champagne and prayed for it to take the edge off. She could find slight relaxation with a drink and a party, but that would not happen tonight. Her eyes sliced across the room, and in the sea of slamming, dancing svelte Miami bodies stood the reason why.

  Luke. He was dressed to kill in a suit that confirmed the existence of a God who wanted women to swoon. Despite the atmosphere and the people surrounding her, she was unable to think clearly.

  The music shifted suddenly, and Maddy broke the eye lock, uneasy about his presence and nervous about what he could want. She turned toward the safe confines of her table. People wanted her attention, but Hale got what she communicated to him without even a word. He took off at her silent order to find Luke.

  Minutes ticked by until he lumbered back, shaking his head. “Can’t locate him.”

  “Good. Glad he’s gone.” But her insides twisted, and she wanted to know so much more about how he made her feel. “I’m headed out.”

  “Maddy.” Hale stepped closer.

  She brushed by him.

  “Maddy,” he growled.

  Taking a deep breath, she pivoted. “Take the night off, Hale. The girls are covered. Kylie’s got a bead on everyone I need names of from here. Forget I’m walking away.”

  “To him?”

  Maddy nodded, unable to register how a commando look-alike could make a suit look better than when he wore his save-the-world gear. The scout in her wanted to stage a photo shoot with him. The woman in her didn’t want another set of eyes on him.

  “He’s a bad one, Maddy.”

  “I know.” A quick jab of her heart thumped in her chest. “But I can’t stay away.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Neon lights colored the faces of the bodies milling on the sidewalks, lining up to get into bars and clubs. Most women were dressed in a few inches of fabric, but not the woman he had gone out to find. A black, skintight dress had hugged her luscious curves, and her dark hair hung onto her shoulders. The strands were silky soft, Luke knew from experience, but what he wouldn’t do to thread his fingers through it…

  Maddy Mercier was his newest form of pain, when he’d never known anything but violence could bring up the delicious feeling he craved. She was it, the newest drug of choice, similar to heroin—after one hit, the cravings were absurd, the withdrawals dangerous. She was like that. Maybe worse.

  He powered down the street, watching the crowds lessen until the unmistakable clack-clack of stupid-expensive shoes followed him down a street where no sane woman would go. Luke spun slowly.

  Across the club, there had been something about her that made the packed room fade away. But alone, on the street, with just her and him and this tension between them, their connection wasn’t just one quality. It was everything from not trusting her, to hating her, to needing to taste her and take her more than he needed another brawl, another ops job, another anything. “You’re following me.”

  “You’re stalking me.”

  “Games are one thing.” He took a step closer. “Lies are another.”

  “It wasn’t a lie.”

  “Then a joke.”

  “I’ve never even been kissed.”

  “Damn,” he growled, rubbing his temples. Confusion mixed with his irritation. At her. At himself. At the whole goddamn world. He hated who he was sometimes as much as he hated his history. “I can’t deal with this. Get out of here. Go home. Go do whatever it is you do. Come up with crazy-ass stories and play your games.”

  “Trafficking is personal to you.”

  “No,” he lied. “Not a sane person on earth supports that shit.”

  “What if the only way of life I’ve known is that?”

  “Then you change it. You find cops, you tell someone. You walk away. You change it.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  “You keep saying that, yet you’re still here. Your eyes say you believe me, but your mouth doesn’t agree.”

  “Beautiful…” He shook his head. “Yeah, it’s personal.”

  “Help me.”

  His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not on his payroll?”

  “Your father?” He shrank back. “Hell no.”

  “You really are a hero, aren’t you? Like a savior I never knew existed.”

  He took a step back, uncertain how she was baiting him. “No hero. I get shit done. That’s it.”

  “Same. We’re the same.” Perfect skin and hungry eyes glared up as she stepped right to his chest. “You came to the club.”

  “Go home, princess.”

  “Beautiful.” Another inch disappeared between them. “I like it better when you call me beautiful.”

  His chest felt too tight, his hands too empty. “Don’t tell me you’re conceited too. Need to hear something nice? Go to the lackeys you pay. They’d gladly fawn over you.”

  “Trust me, they don’t fawn.”

  “What do they do?”

  She leaned into him, a truthful glint shining in her eyes. “Tell me the unvarnished truth.”

  His chest expanded, and his skin prickled, closing the distance. He couldn’t tell if they were going to throw down in the street or fuck against the wall. He wanted both. The thick, rhythmic beats of his heart made blood pound in his neck. Wanting to squeeze her, to shake her, Luke moved one hand to her cheek, and she sighed. Damn. Soft. So soft, too fragile. All her venom was a front. He dragged his knuckles down to her jawline. His thumb brushed her bottom lip as her eyes went wide and her shallow breaths warmed the pad of his finger.

  “You’ve never been with a man?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.” He closed the distance, in her face, feeling the heat of his words against the warmth of her lips. “You’ve never been kissed.”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  His lips brushed hers, and she whimpered. One hand splayed against her back, and he pulled her closer with a harsh jerk, a stark contrast to the careful almost-kiss of their lips. His tongue darted out, testing her mouth. “Bet you taste sweet.”

  She swayed against him, her hips gently slipping side to side. “I don’t know why, but I want more now that I’ve met you.”

  “Meaning?” he growled as his lips ran to her earlobe, and he kissed down her neck as gently as he’d ever kissed anything before.

  “God…”

  “Feels good?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  His dark mind sought out the impossible. Her truth. There was something so wrong with her that if she hadn’t wanted to be kissed and held before, he wanted her to see the light, the softness, and have that same reaction.

  Maddy tilted her neck even as she leaned into him.

  He bit her neck.

  “God…”

  His tongue lashed the bite mark. “No one should be without a kiss.”

  And in that moment, with her gyrating against his erection, he wanted to make her feel desire for him, not for just a kiss or sex. He stepped back, running his hands down her sides and resting them on the swell of her ass. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips parted.

  Maddy wasn’t the enemy right now. She should have been disgusting and the definition of his degradation. But all Luke saw were big, beautiful eyes that fought too damn hard to hide the truth. She’d been hurt. As much as she might swear she created beautiful things for others, no one had created them for her. Or she hadn’t let them.

  On the isolated sidewalk from the musicians and artisans on the main drag, he cupped her cheeks and saw them flush. Just the touch of the drumbeats drifted in the night air as she watched him. He wanted her to anticipate what he would do, how it would feel. He wanted her to feel as alive as the city around them. He pressed his mouth to her full lips, and she sighed. The feeling went straight to his groin and made his heart tighten. Luke urged her mouth open, delving his tongue almost reverently.

  She was hesitant, sweet, and tentative, but her fingers flexed into h
is biceps. She mimicked him, coming alive as much as he was. God, it was a helluva kiss. He backed her against the brick wall, running his hands into her silky hair, and kissed her forever. Slowly, he pulled back, eyes on her.

  When her eyes finally opened, she blinked as though in a haze. “Wow.”

  The quiet word made him smile. He took her small hand. “Come with me.”

  They set off in silence the opposite way he’d been headed, passing trellises of vibrant flowers under the yellow street lights. The warm night and the crowd surrounded them as they surfaced back on the strip. Fruit stands. Musicians playing drums. Artisans hocking wears. Local eccentricities made him feel human, less like a warrior on a mission, and more like a man with just one purpose in life. Luke threw his arm in the air and hailed a taxi as it trolled for a fare. Immediately, it pulled a U-turn, honking at other cars that were rightfully where they should be, and pulled alongside the curb. He pulled the door open. “In you go.”

  Her eyebrow rose. “I can have a driver here in a minute, flat.”

  A grin curled his lips. “Nervous?”

  “No.”

  “Then in you go. Time to get the princess out of her castle.” A moment of beautiful surprise crossed her face, making him falter a step, though he never faltered. He also never spent time with skin peddlers, preferring to take them out than take them to dinner. Which was what he was doing.

  He leaned to the cabbie. “You know where Cuba de Ayer is?”

  The man nodded and jumped into traffic, but Maddy’s finger began to wave. “No, no, no.”

  Luke leaned back, smiling. “What? Not hungry?”

  “Not really,” she replied with a nervousness he found endearing.

  “You’re having a hard time with the lack of control right now?”

  “Um, yes.” Her face tightened. “But—”

  “Sit. Back.”

  Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she slipped back, eyes locked on him. “This isn’t what I signed up for.”