Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(37)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“I took a hit,” Saxon muttered. “Archer was there. He shot me, and he got Jazz.”

Maxwell grabbed the man, and he made sure that he dug his fingers into Saxon’s injured shoulder. “Jasmine was with the FBI Agent. You were supposed to take them both out. A simple enough order. It wasn’t time for Archer. Not. Yet.”

“He followed them!” The lines near Saxon’s mouth tightened as pain rippled across his face.

Maxwell dug his hand in a bit deeper.

“W-we had the agent controlled. Jazz was almost in the van, then Archer flew up and started shooting. We didn’t have any choice—we had to get the hell out of there.”

“One man, and you ran from him? I’m very, very disappointed in you.” When he got disappointed, people died.

“Avery was already back in the van. He was going to leave me,” Saxon snarled at him. “I was bleeding all over the street. I didn’t have a choice.”

Avery. Ah, yes, he was still a fairly new employee, and the man didn’t understand just how much Maxwell hated disappointments. He would. “Send Avery in to me.” He released Saxon. “Get your shoulder stitched up.”

Saxon backed away, but he didn’t leave. “Drake isn’t about to give that woman up again. You should’ve seen the way he fought to get her.”

Interesting. So Archer wouldn’t be surrendering Jasmine to the cops again. And if he had a twenty-four seven watch on her, well, that would make things a bit more complicated.

Not impossible, of course, just complicated.

“You both wore ski masks?” His order, but he wanted to make sure it had been followed.

“Yes.” Blood dripped from Saxon’s soaked shirt and splattered onto the floor.

“Then Jasmine has no idea you were the one who went after her.”

A quick, negative shake of Saxon’s dark head was his reply.

“Excellent.” Because if force hadn’t worked, then they’d try another method for getting to Jasmine. They wouldn’t worry about going through Archer’s guards—and the man had certainly upped his security force at his New Orleans casino—they’d just get Jasmine to come right to them.

A lamb, to the slaughter.

Chapter Nine

She’d just had sex in an elevator.

Jasmine lifted her head from Drake’s chest. He was slowly pulling out of her body, and that glide sent off little aftershocks in her core. Helplessly, she felt herself squeeze him tight, one more time.

Her breath sighed out at the rush of pleasure.

“I…didn’t mean what I said.”

Her lashes lifted. He was straightening his clothes. She should probably do the same. Especially since her half-naked image was being tossed back to her courtesy of those mirrored walls.

But…Drake beat her to the punch. He bent and the guy eased her jeans back on her. Carefully. Slowly. He even paused to check her bandage. Like those stitches would have slowed her down.

Then he tucked her torn panties into his pocket.

“Ah…what you said?” She had to clear her throat because her voice came out way too husky. Jasmine had no idea what he’d said before. She was pretty lost.

Still kneeling before her, Drake glanced up. His eyes seemed to blaze at her. “I’m not done with you.”

He should be. “Drake…”

In one quick, fluid motion, he rose before her.

She put her hand on his chest. “I am a liar. And I’m a thief.” The words had hurt, but the truth often did.

His gaze narrowed. That green stare seemed to measure her as it moved slowly over her face, then down to the hand that pressed not just over his chest, but right over his heart. She could feel the strong, steady beat beneath her fingertips.

“Maybe,” he allowed.

There was no maybe there.

“But you’re my thief,” and his voice had hardened. He kissed her then. That mind-numbing kiss of his and she pretty much sank into him. “Don’t forget it,” he muttered against her lips.

As if she could.

Then he pulled away. Put in his security code and had the elevator doors opening. He exited the elevator and offered her his hand. Taking it, Jasmine hesitated. “This is the first place the cops will look for me. You know that, right?” They might as well flash a neon sign.

He didn’t appear concerned. Not even a little. “Then we’ll just have to make certain they don’t find you here.” He sounded so confident. “It’s not like you’ll be staying long.”

Uh, she wouldn’t be?

“Give me a bit to make arrangements. I can have you out of town in an hour. I’ll get us on a private flight and I can make you vanish.”

So tempting. But… “I can’t leave Victor.” As it was, she’d have to find out which hospital he was in. As soon as it was safe, she’d contact him again and find out what needed to happen next.

Drake’s jaw locked as they entered his apartment—that was what she thought of that place as, anyway. It sure had all the comforts of home. And had she really just left from that exact spot hours ago? So strange. It had seemed like much more time passed. “I didn’t think I’d be coming back here.”

“You sacrificed yourself for me.”

She glanced back at him. His shoulders were propped against the door, and his arms were crossed over his chest. Jasmine couldn’t read the expression on his face, no matter how hard she tried.

And to think, she was usually pretty good at reading people. She pressed her lips together a moment, then said, “Maxwell killed the bounty hunter, we both know that. I was just trying to…to make less trouble for you.”

“Maybe I want trouble.”

Her eyes widened at that.

“No more lies, Jasmine.”

Ah…

“I’ve been playing nice with you.”

He had? Wow. What was he like when he played rough?

“I warned you about lying, and you are already due some punishments.”

Kissing hardly counted as punishments.

“But I’ve got questions for you, and I want the honest truth.” He advanced toward her, a lion stalking his prey. “Do you understand?”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there are some things I just can’t tell you.” More than her life was at stake.

Her answer didn’t even slow him down. “Why weren’t you in cuffs?”

“Um, what?”

“At the crash site, you weren’t in handcuffs, but when Victor loaded you into the SUV, he had both of your hands cuffed.”