Mine to Have (Mine #5)(33)
Author: Cynthia Eden

No big buildings. No traffic jams that stretched for miles.

Peace. Beauty.

If it weren’t for the fact that she still felt like her heart had been ripped out, she’d almost be happy there.

Saxon. He was the one thing she missed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him out of her head. Or her heart.

“Ms. Meadows?”  A feminine voice queried, sounding slightly annoyed.

Crap. That’s me. Elizabeth jumped to her feet. She was at the winery because this place…it was supposed to be her new job site. Victor and his Witness Protection buddies had lined up the position for her.  She was there to meet her new boss, and she was already screwing things up before she’d even set her eyes on the man.

The redhead was standing by an office door, with a faint frown on her face.

“Sorry,” Elizabeth mumbled as she hurried past her and into the office. “I didn’t…hear you.”

“The four times I called your name?”  The woman’s lips curved in a faint smile that wasn’t cruel, but sweetly kind. “Sometimes nervousness can do that to you.”

Her cheeks stained. It’s not my name, okay? I’m still getting used to it. But, yes, she was so nervous her whole body was shaking.

Before Elizabeth could say anything else, the redhead backed away and pulled the door shut. The click of that door closing sure seemed overly loud in that office—and what a plush office it was.  She could smell leather in that place and those floor to ceiling windows on the right were amazing. Talk about a killer view. Insanely gorgeous and—

Where’s my new boss?

Because she was standing in an empty office.

Elizabeth inched a bit closer to the big, mahogany desk.  She was supposed to be meeting with a Mr. Laurent.  Only he wasn’t there and—

“I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice came from behind her and it was a voice that froze her. Deep, dark, seeming to completely overwhelm her because it was his voice.

Saxon.

She wanted to whirl around, but her body had shut down and she couldn’t move at all. It’s not him.  Saxon isn’t here. I’m meeting with a Michael Laurent.  I want to hear Saxon’s voice so badly that I’m imagining it.

The floor creaked beneath his footsteps.

“Mr. Laurent.” Her voice trembled and she hated that.  Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’m—”

“I know exactly who you are.”

Her eyes squeezed shut.  His voice. I’d know his voice anywhere. After all, she heard it every night in her dreams.

“Look at me.”

She didn’t want to. Because then she might see that he wasn’t Saxon.

He touched her, and a gasp slipped from her because she knew his touch so well.  His fingers had curled around her shoulder, and when she looked down, she could see the faint scars that lined his knuckles.

“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Protecting you.”

Those words pierced right through her.  They also terrified her. “I almost got you killed before. I don’t want you risking anything else for me, do you understand?”

Silence was his answer, but his fingers tightened on her shoulder.  

“Victor said you were dead to me.”  Did he know how much that had cut her up? No, probably not. Because this wild tangle of emotions was all just on her side.  Get your control, woman!

“I am.”

Then she had to jerk out of his hold. She tried to take a few fast and frantic steps away from him, but Saxon caught her. He spun her around and yanked her right back up against him.

“Make no mistake,” he told her, his voice a hard growl, “Saxon Black is dead. Saxon Black, Saxon Marshall, Saxon Smith…every f**king alias I used when I was undercover with the FBI—they’re all dead.”

His body was pressed tightly to hers. She could feel his muscles, his strength.  There was no sign of pain on his face. But the last time she’d seen him, Saxon had barely been clinging to life.

Because of me. 

“You already know I was working my last case for Vic down in Miami. I was set to start a new life,” he told her. “This life. I picked the place. I planned for years. Hell, I bought this place with the money I earned working jobs you don’t ever want to know about.”

The winery was his?  She shook her head. “They sent me here—”

“Vic sent you to me.”  His gaze was so dark as it spread over her face and that was when she realized—

He’s different.

It wasn’t just the suit he wore, one that looked as if it had been custom made for his muscled frame.  Or the new cut of his hair—a cut that swept back his thick hair—hair that appeared so much darker now. The new style and darkness somehow made his face look less rough and dangerous, and more sensual, elegant.

When she stared up at him, she wasn’t seeing the deadly lover who’d saved her before in Miami. She wasn’t really sure who she was seeing at all.

Michael Laurent?

He’d just rattled off too many other aliases for her.  The guy had spent his life undercover.  Who was he, really?

And did it even matter?

Because right then, she was so freaking happy—she threw her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could. Tears wanted to fall from her eyes, but Elizabeth blinked them away. “I was so afraid you’d die.” She would never forget those terrifying moments on that chopper.  She squeezed him even tighter. “Oh, God, I was scared—”

And he was kissing her.  Kissing her hard and deep and wild. Kissing her like Saxon—her Saxon.  He lifted her up against him, held her easily, and the tight band around her heart—the band she’d carried for two, long weeks—finally seemed to ease.

Her hands were around his neck. His hands were on her hips. He was walking with her in his grasp, still kissing her, still driving that wonderful tongue of his into her mouth, and she wanted to devour him right then and there. She. Wanted. Him.

Saxon put her on the desk.  Shoved paperwork aside and pushed right between her legs. The skirt she’d been wearing hiked up, and his hands—those rough, callused hands—curled around her thighs.

“Fucking missed you…” he rasped against her mouth.  “Missed…fucking…you…” His right hand rose and curled around the crotch of her panties.

It felt like everything was moving at super speed, one hundred miles an hour—two hundred—and she didn’t care.