Mine to Hold

A few minutes later, Noah found himself being pushed into the back of Lane and Gwen’s unmarked car. At least it wasn’t a patrol car, but he knew word about this incident would spread through the city like wildfire. Engaged one night, arrested the next. A scandal like that would make headlines.

The cops climbed in the front of the vehicle. Before Lane could turn the key, Noah drawled, “Are you both really sure you want to go up against me?”

Gwen glanced back at him. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

Yes.

“We do our jobs, and we don’t care how much power you have.”

Under other circumstances, Noah would like Gwen Lazlo. But since she was trying to toss his ass in jail… “Fair enough. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Because they were about to find out just how much influence he had in the Big Apple.

***

For a moment, Claire stood frozen in Noah’s office. No, that hadn’t just happened. As the shock faded, she turned and rushed for the door.

“Wait.” Trace grabbed her arm. “You don’t want to go after them.”

“They’re arresting him. For murder!”

And he’d thought I killed Senator Harrison? Noah had thought she was a killer, and he’d still protected her.

Trace shook his head. “They’re not arresting him. They’re questioning Noah. The cops think they can push him into making some kind of mistake.” He laughed. “They don’t know Noah well.”

He pulled out his phone. Called a lawyer. She tried to stop her knees from shaking. When he ended the call, Claire blurted, “They don’t know Noah well, but you do.” I thought I did, too.

Trace put the phone back into his pocket. “I’ve seen the man survive hours of torture, and he never broke.”

“Wh-what?”

His eyes slid over her face. “But I guess Noah doesn’t want you knowing about that time, does he? I never wanted it touching Skye, either.”

Her head was about to explode. “When was Noah tortured?” The idea of him being hurt that way made her sick.

“In one way or another, I think the guy’s been tortured most of his life.”

“That’s a really shitty answer,” Claire snapped, fed up and pushed too far.

Trace blinked at her.

“Who hurt Noah?” Because she had the fierce desire to hurt them right back.

“One of our missions went to hell. Noah paid the price.”

Her icy breath chilled her lungs.

“Noah has seen more death than most people can imagine, and because of that, the guy doesn’t get real close to other people.”

Neither did she, or at least she hadn’t, until Noah. “And he holds tight to his control.”

Trace nodded. “Noticed that, huh?”

It was hard not to notice it.

“Consider his control a good thing,” Trace told her. “Because I’ve seen him lose it before, and when Noah breaks…” He gave a long sigh. “Men die.”

She backed away from him. “That was war. That was—”

“Noah values his control more than he values anything else, because he knows how dangerous he is without it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Was he trying to scare her? Test her?

“Because I think you need to know exactly who you’re dealing with.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Noah had just been hauled away by cops. They should both be rushing out after him, but Trace was locking his steely gaze on her. “If you can’t handle him, all of him, then you need to pull back.”

She shook her head. Pulling back wasn’t an option. Noah needed her then.

“I see what’s happening between you. It may already be too late for him, and if you can’t take him—all of him—then you’ll wreck him.”

“I-I’d never hurt Noah.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I saw your face when you looked at that photo of him at the senator’s hotel. For an instant, you were terrified.” He took a step toward her. “You thought he might have killed, and terror consumed you. He thought that you might have done the same thing, and he protected you.”

“Stop it! It’s not the same—you don’t understand!”

“I understand that Noah is my friend. And the biggest threat that the man has ever faced…she’s standing right in front of me.”

Claire straightened her spine. Focused on trying to calm her racing heart. “You don’t know me. And you don’t know how Noah is with me.” She wouldn’t let this man intimidate her. “And now you need to get out of my way because I’m not just going to stay in this place while he gets questioned. He was with me when Sloan was killed. Every minute.” Trace wisely backed away. She marched for the door. “And I’ll make those cops believe me.”

Trace called her name, but Claire didn’t stop. She hurried through the hotel. Ran by the doormen. The street outside was so busy. Packed with cars. She raised her hand, ready to hail her own taxi, and her gaze flew around the area as—

Ethan Harrison.

He was standing across the street from the hotel. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the long, black coat that he wore. His eyes—his eyes were on her. He was watching her.

Then he smiled.

“Claire!” Trace yelled from behind her.

Ethan turned away.

Trace’s hand closed over her shoulder. “Claire, come on, look, I’ll get us down to the station—”

She yanked away from him and ran into the street. “Ethan!” Cars honked. Brakes squealed. Trace roared her name.

Ethan didn’t slow.

She ran faster, and Claire could see him—

She was shoved through the air. Claire slammed onto the cement with an impact that rattled her bones.

Trace rolled her over, swearing. “Dammit, Claire, that car almost hit you!” His hands patted over her body. “Are you hurt? I didn’t think I was going to get to you in time.”

She shoved his hands off her, shoved him off her, and leapt to her feet. “Ethan!”

“Ethan?” Trace echoed.

Not bothering to respond, Claire ran down the sidewalk. There were so many people. So many—but where was Ethan? Where had he gone?

“He was here,” Claire whispered. “He is here. I just have to find him.” She whirled around. Looked to the left. The right. Bodies passed her in a blur as she kept searching for the man with the bright blond hair.

The man who should be dead.

***

Two New York detectives had joined the little party. One of the guys was named Sean Fuller, and the other guy, well, he hadn’t volunteered his name.

“So…” Gwen pulled out the chair across from him. She was obviously the leader of the party. “Why don’t we cut through the bull?”

He was seated at a wobbly little table in an interrogation room. They’d put a cup of coffee in front of him. The air blew overhead in a too-cold stream.

He smiled at her. “What do you want to know?”

His smile seemed to make her hesitate. She probably expected him to be nervous. Bring the tycoon downtown, throw him in interrogation, make him crack. Yes, he was sure that had been the general plan.

That plan was screwed.

“I want to know…would you kill for Claire Kramer?”

“Yes.”

Gwen blinked.

“But have I killed for her?” He shrugged. “Not yet.”

Gwen and Lane shared a long look. “So you’re planning to kill?” Gwen asked carefully.

“I’m planning to keep Claire safe. Someone planted a bomb at one of my hotels recently. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” The news had been flashed in a constant stream on TV. “I won’t just stand by while someone tries to hurt my fiancée.”

Noah figured he had about ten more minutes before his lawyer burst in, so he’d keep playing this game a bit longer.

“Tell us about your visit to Senator Harrison’s hotel room in D.C.,” Gwen directed.

Sighing, Noah leaned forward. “The guy was being a total dick. Seemed to me like he was borderline insane. That insanity must run in the Harrison family.”

Lane grunted.

The two New York detectives just frowned. Ah, are you two holding back because you just want me to be pissed at your D.C. counterparts? Worried I’ll come after you? Because the New York cops did look nervous as they glanced his way. One of the guys had even started to sweat.

Noah stretched and took his time answering. “I wanted to deliver a personal message to Colby Harrison. The senator needed to realize that he wouldn’t be able to threaten or harass Claire ever again.”

Gwen’s eyebrows arched. “And had he been harassing her?”

“Yes.” He kept his hands flat on the table. “That’s where Sloan Hall came in. The Harrisons hired him to keep watch on Claire. For years, they’ve been stalking her.”

“Bet that pissed you off,” Lane tossed out. “Knowing they were trying to hurt your lady.”

Pissed didn’t begin to cover the way he felt.

“So I guess it’s no wonder you shot the senator and Sloan Hall,” Lane continued as he rubbed his chin. “You wanted to make sure they didn’t hurt her again.”

Gwen’s fingers tapped on the table. “I don’t understand…”

Noah waited for her to continue.

“When did you meet Claire Kramer?”

“A few months ago, in Chicago.”

“And what? It was love at first sight?” Her words mocked the idea. “I don’t see that happening for a guy like you.”

He smiled at her again. “Maybe I’m the romantic sort.”

“I think you’re the intense sort. You’re also the sort who goes from woman to woman, night after night.”

His reputation sure seemed to get around. Had the lady been talking to Drake? “Not anymore.”

“Right…not anymore…not since Claire.” She tilted her head to the right and a line appeared between her brows. “What is it about her? Why the change for Ms. Kramer?”

“Claire’s a survivor. I admire that.”

“Because you’re a survivor, too?”

Ah, he should have seen that coming.

Gwen rifled through some files that waited on the table. “You survived your parents’ death, didn’t you? You were the only survivor when the boat sank.”

“Yes.”

“So you and Claire…it’s like to like?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Gwen gave a little frustrated growl. “Survivor to survivor. You both lost the ones closest to you, and you had to keep going.”

That door was going to open any second but he’d humor the lady a bit longer. “I’m with Claire because she’s what I need.” After so many years of going through the motions of life, she actually made him feel alive. She made him want to start thinking about a future.

“And are you what Claire needs? Someone who is willing to…kill for her?”

“Didn’t she have that before?” Lane questioned, the words rapping out.

Noah’s gaze cut to his. “You don’t want to go there with me.”

Now it was Lane’s turn to smile. “Don’t I? There were lots of stories circulating about Claire Kramer. Her parents were too strict, and they didn’t want her seeing her lover, so she decided to just get rid of them. She slipped away, giving herself the perfect alibi, and she got her lover to come and—”

Noah started laughing. “There went your badge.”

Lane’s smile vanished.

“You should be careful what you say about Claire,” Noah continued. His voice had dropped to a lethal softness. “I have a very long memory, and I don’t forgive easily.”

Lane’s eyes turned to slits. “You threatening me?”

“I get that you want to ask your questions. Nailing me for these murders would probably make all your damn careers, but it’s not going to happen.” Noah rose. “And if you keep screwing with me, you will find yourself without any career.”

The door opened. Only his lawyer didn’t stand there. Claire did. Her eyes were big, haunted, and her face was far too pale. Trace was right beside her. The guy’s lip was bleeding, and he had scratches on the side of his face. What. The. Hell?

“Noah didn’t do it,” Claire announced. “He didn’t kill Sloan Hall.” Her words tumbled together because she was speaking so quickly. “Ethan Harrison did.”

Chapter Thirteen

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Claire asked as she turned to face Gwen Laszlo. The detective had taken Claire back to York Towers, and they were just entering the suite that Claire shared with Noah.

“I think you’re under a lot of stress.” Gwen pushed back her shoulders, and Claire saw the gun holster on the detective’s side. “I was there when the patrol car exploded. You can trust me on this. Ethan Harrison is in hell right now.”

The cops had sent a team to search the streets near York Towers. They’d searched for several hours. Turned up nothing. Claire had been the only one to see Ethan. Even Trace hadn’t noticed the guy.

Noah was downstairs in the lobby. The cops had finally let him go, and Claire needed him to hurry up there so they could talk. He’ll believe me this time.

“You came up here because you wanted to question me,” Claire said wearily as she shoved back her hair. “We both know that’s your plan.”