Bullet Proof (B-Squad 0.50)

"Because Miss Sweet Personality is persona non grata," Keir answered, shifting just the slightest bit so he stood a half-inch closer to her. "She's on her way out."

Bianca gnawed away at her bottom lip. "Will you get in trouble for this?"

"Not if we come back with proof the Davies-Smythes are involved with Genie's Wish. Amazing how big arrests make the big wigs shut up—not to mention it's a helluva fuck you to everyone who has been a giant pain in my ass." Vivi unrolled the building plans for Bisu Manor onto the island and pointed to a corner room in the basement. "This is their panic room. Now, if I was kidnapping someone and using them as a drug guinea pig, this is exactly where I'd hold them."

"What about this?" Bianca pointed to what had been labeled wine pantry and was just off the kitchen. "There aren't any windows and wine cellars sometimes have their own entry requirements because of the wines' value and temperature controls."

"Good insight." Vivi nodded. "Check out both. If they have Gidget, and I'm still not convinced they do, then she'll be at one of these spots."

It was a good catch, but he didn't want Bianca anywhere near one of the possible holding sites. Taking her to Bisu Manor wasn't optional, but once he had her there, she wasn't going to be doing a damn thing that could get her into trouble. She might want to be Ft. Worth's version of Batgirl, but that didn't mean he was going to let it happen.

"And what if everything goes sideway?" he asked, because it would. Something always did.

Bianca sent a glare his way. "We won't let it."

CHAPTER NINE

Taz had barely pulled to a stop in front of Bisu Manor before Bianca had her fingers curled around the door handle, needing to put some space between them. He curled his strong fingers around her arm, stopping her before she could push the passenger door open and get out of the enclosed space where all she could smell was his warm, spicy scent and all she could think about was what could have been. She didn't have time for that right now. More importantly, Gidget didn't have time, nor did the good people of Ft. Worth who were about to get slammed with a drug that took far more than it gave. A lot more was riding on this than her broken heart.

"Let me go," she said, thankful the anxiety tightening around her throat didn't block her words.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Taz asked, not looking at her but not letting go either. "It's not too late to back out."

She went so still she would have sworn her heart stopped beating. That's what he thought of her—that she'd back out, that she wasn't capable. Good thing she knew better.

"Worry about yourself." She jerked her arm out of his grasp and pushed open the car door. "It's what you're good at."

Getting out of the car on shaky legs, she was halfway up the stairs leading to the manor's front door when Taz caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and wheeled her around. Fighting for balance, she grabbed the first thing she could, which just happened to be Taz's hard chest. His heart thundered under her palm, matching the dark look shadowing his eyes.

"I wish I could just worry about myself," he said, enunciating carefully, as if each clipped word was a blade slicing off a thin piece of her heart. "I'm good at it and it's all I was doing until I walked into this house last night and found you poured into that dress, surrounded by men who wanted nothing more than to fuck you every way to Sunday. I couldn't walk away from you then and I can't now."

Flustered by the way he managed to piss her off and set off a wave of desire at the same time, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. "I can take care of myself."

"Damn it, Bianca, I know that," he snarled, yanking her so close that their lips were only inches apart. "What I said last night, it was...it was bullshit. You're smart. You're capable. You can handle yourself. I just don't think I could handle it if you got hurt. I love you."

The world tilted and, judging by how her stomach felt, gravity had been temporarily turned off. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She could only stretch up on her tiptoes and brush her lips against his. Electricity zinged through her, like a silver ball careening through a pinball machine setting off bells and whistles and lights.

He moaned and threaded his fingers in her hair, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss. It was almost more than she could take, but she wasn't about to stop. He was right. What they were doing was dangerous. It could all go wrong, which is exactly why she needed something to go right—and this kiss was so wrong it was right. In their twisted little world, it worked and they made sense. Together they were bulletproof.

A loud cough from over her left shoulder jerked her back from the edge of falling for Taz. Ha. Who was she kidding? She already had and there was no going back now.

"Oh, my, I hope I'm not interrupting." Amelia Davies-Smythe stood in the open door. She wore a purple blouse, didn't have a hair out of place, and her understated makeup was perfect. For all intents and purposes, she looked like Ft. Worth royalty, via the British Isles, but the lusty look in her eyes as she gave Taz a slow up and down betrayed the image.

A barbwire thread of jealousy wound its way through Bianca and she managed, just barely, not to show her teeth to the other woman. Taz released her hair and his palm slid south, coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Bless your heart for worrying about that," Bianca said as she started up the steps. "But I thought you lik

ed to watch."

Amelia laughed, the sound darker and earthier than was expected from an uptight British dilettante, but then again she wasn't only that. She was a kidnapping, drug dealing bitch. "You know, it's a sign of how interesting Oliver and I find you and your Kitten that we'd even see you today."

"You have exciting plans for later?" Taz asked, his voice not giving away either embarrassment at being caught kissing her or the real reason why they were at the manor.

"I wish, but no. The morning after a party is always a bit challenging." Amelia circled two fingers against her temple. "You two, however, don't look any worse for the wear. I hate you a little bit for that."

"We're just excellent at faking it." Bianca chuckled softly and strolled up the stairs, praying that her nerve wouldn't fail her or cause her to fall flat on her face.

"Now, that is a skill that can come in handy, believe me. Please come in. Oliver is taking care of a few things and will join us momentarily." She tucked Bianca's arm into the crook of her elbow and walked her through the foyer. "Let's have some tea in the salon while we wait for him."