Mine to Have (Mine 5)

Her lips parted. “I don’t…the others out there…they don’t know…”

“Fuck what they know.” On this, they needed to be clear. He stalked back toward her. “You are mine, Elizabeth. And I’m not letting you go.”

Chapter Eleven

Luther Bates had stopped laughing. He was bleeding now, thanks to that whole face-into-the-table incident.

“And people think the FBI agents are the good guys,” Luther muttered. “So clueless.”

Victor raised a brow. “I’m guessing you aren’t just talking about me.” He smiled. “Gary Warren? Does that name ring a bell with you?”

Luther’s expression didn’t change.

“He confessed,” Victor told the guy. He wasn’t touching the guy now, but battle-ready tension coursed through his body. “Told me flat out that you’d hired him to take out the Ward family. Only Elizabeth wasn’t in the car that night, so she got away. Escaped your whole little payback revenge scenario, didn’t she?”

Luther glanced toward the door. “You think I’m gonna talk to you? Give you any more ammo to use against me?”

“You’re in here for the next ninety-nine years,” Victor told him with a hard laugh. “With no hope of parole. I don’t need ammo. You’re not going any place, except to hell.”

But Luther just smirked at him. “You want me to do you a favor, so don’t come talking to me about hell.” Luther leaned forward, his eyes turning to slits. “I’ve been in hell ever since they locked me up.”

“I can get you out of solitaire.” Maybe. He was totally bullshitting there. The warden hadn’t wanted to let Victor in to see Luther, and he’d already had to call in some favors just to get this one-on-one chat going.

“I like solitaire. Gives me time to think without worrying about dumb jerks being next to me.” Luther stared back at him. “So come up with some other shit.”

Dammit. “Why the hell does she even matter? You killed her mother, her father—she has nothing left! Just let her go.”

Something flickered in Luther’s eyes. He didn’t smile. In fact, his lips seemed to thin. “This is personal for you.”

He’d screwed up. Victor knew it and tried to back-track, fast. “None of the cases are personal. It’s all about doing a job.”

“There are so many dirty FBI agents these day,” Luther said with a sad shake of his head. “Why is it so hard to find one honest man?”

“I’m not dirty.” He’d never been on the take. Never would be. His father had betrayed everyone that he met. Victor had gotten tired of the guy’s broken promises long before his dad had cut out on him. And he’d sworn to never be like that SOB.

“You’ve got killers in your midst, Mr. FBI Agent. They’re right under your nose, and you don’t even know it.”

He forced his jaw to unclench “Gary Warren is—”

“A dead man,” Luther dismissed. “I don’t worry about the dead.”

Only Gary wasn’t dead. Not yet. He was locked up in Miami, in a solitaire of his own. He hadn’t talked to anyone yet, but he would. Victor would make certain of it.

“It’s the living that matter,” Luther said with a curt nod. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Call off the hit,” he ordered. “Let Elizabeth live.”

“Personal…it’s obviously so personal.” Luther studied him with a critical eye. “Are you fucking Elizabeth Ward?”

Victor locked his back teeth. Show no emotion. “Tell me what you want.” Because he’d seen Saxon’s eyes, when Elizabeth started crying in that interrogation room. How the mighty fall. Over the years, Saxon had put his life on the line again and again for Victor. Victor knew he owed Saxon, far more than he could ever repay. But I have to try.

“I want a favor.” Luther’s gaze dropped to Victor’s ID and his FBI badge. “Not from the FBI though, because you can’t trust those traitorous bastards.” His gaze rose. “I want a favor from you. A personal favor.”

“I’m not a dirty agent—”

“You even get to play the hero. How’s that for win-win?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”

“There’s a woman who has been…taken. Her name is Zoe Peters. I need you to find Zoe, and I need you to keep her safe for me.”

What? Victor shook his head.

“When I know Zoe is alive, if there is a hit on Elizabeth Ward, then I’ll see what I can do to get it canceled.” Luther shrugged. “That is a deal that doesn’t leave this room, you understand? You find Zoe, you bring me proof of life…then that hit will be canceled.”

This was insane. “And where is this Zoe supposed to be?”

“You’re the fancy FBI agent…figure it out.” Luther lunged to his feet, sending his chair crashing behind him. Luther stalked to the door, his shackles barely seeming to slow him as he called out, “Guard, guard! I’m done here!”

But before the guard could open the door, Victor grabbed his arm. “When I find her, you swear to me that Elizabeth Ward will be safe.”

Luther nodded. “I told you, if a hit is on her, it’ll be canceled.”

The guy was so careful with his words, If. There was no if.

The guard came and took Luther away. Victor stood in that room, his hands fisted at his sides. Zoe Peters. Who the hell was Zoe Peters?

And where was she?

***

She could still feel him inside of her. Elizabeth made absolutely sure not to stumble as she followed the tour group into a large tasting room. For a second, she actually lost her breath when she entered that place. Gorgeous. There was no other word for the place. Arched stone covered the ceiling, giving the spacious room a feel almost like—like a castle. The wooden floor gleamed beneath her feet and long bars—also made of that same, gleaming wood, lined the walls of the tasting room. Wine bottles were stacked everywhere. So much wine! And gleaming chandeliers cast light down on the assembled group. There were even small candles positioned all around the room—candles that threw off a softer, more romantic light.

Saxon was up ahead. Looking perfect and polished, and totally not at all like he’d just had sex with a woman on his desk not an hour before.

He was her boss now? Her boss? And her protector? She felt as if she’d been sucked down some kind of rabbit hole. She was thrilled and terrified and she wanted all of those other people to vanish so that she could get Saxon alone again.

And maybe jump him.

“Hi, there…” The voice was close, male, deep, and had her turning her head to see a dark-haired man smiling at her. “I don’t think we met before. I’m Sloan Quest. I think you and I are scheduled to partner up on the winery’s PR team.”

Yes, yes, rig

ht. She’d heard his name mentioned when the tour began. Only she’d been trying to calm her heartbeat, steady her breathing, and not look like she’d just had wild sex.

He offered his hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethany.” His gaze swept over her, and that stare of his seemed to linger a bit too long on her breasts.

She took his hand and forced a smile. “I’m excited to be here.” Now look up.

Thankfully, he did. But she didn’t like the assessing light in his eyes. “Laurent Vineyards has the potential to be absolutely phenomenal,” Sloan said with a nod. “Michael bought the place at just the right time—the name change for the place went through without a hitch, and he’s poised to be a major force in the area.”

A major force? Two weeks ago, he’d nearly killed a man in Miami. Now he—he was completely different.

Michael Laurent was in front of the room, giving a speech about profits and expansion plans, and he was making her head ache. This couldn’t be her Saxon. Not rough and ready Saxon.

Was it?

He is so good at becoming someone else. Even his accent was slightly different as he talked to the group. Clearer, sharper. This isn’t the guy from the streets.

With an extreme effort, Elizabeth kept a polite smile on her face. “How long have you known Michael?”

“About a year,” Sloan told her.

Her jaw nearly hit the floor. It wasn’t possible that he’d known Saxon—Michael—for that long. Saxon had been undercover. He’d been working in Florida—

“Most of his business dealings were conducted via long distance because he was out of the country, but the man knew exactly what he wanted done with this place.” Sloan shrugged. “I got the impression that when there is something the man wants, he takes it. Nothing stops him.”

She tried to carefully tug her hand free of Sloan’s grip, but his fingers tightened around hers.

“I’m a lot like him,” Sloan murmured and the guy actually paused to lick his lips as his gaze swept over her once more. “When I see something…someone…I want, I take her.”

Laughter spilled from her. She just couldn’t help it. “You’re nothing like him.” If this guy tried to live Saxon’s undercover life, he wouldn’t survive the day. “And I’m not interested.” Then she yanked her hand away from Sloan. Screw playing it polite. The guy’s eyes were eating her alive.