Mine to Have (Mine 5)

Rage and fear poured through him. Bates had sent him out on plenty of kills. But if Bates thought he was going to turn on Gary…Think again! Bates wasn’t going to betray him. I’ll betray you first! I know all your secrets, too—and, bastard, I’ve already spilled some of them! Not to the Feds, but to others who’d been willing to pay a premium price…

Like to a man out for his own revenge, a man named Titus Rowe. Both Titus and the guy’s son—Hugh—they were more than eager to collect their pound of flesh. A life for a life.

Every man had a weakness. And a price.

“I want to see Victor!” Gary demanded and his fisted hands slammed onto the table. “You bring him to me, right now!”

“Told you already,” she murmured. “He’s not here. He sent me back to keep an eye on you.” Her gaze drifted over him. Her voice was a mocking whisper as she said, “I guess a dead man isn’t really his priority.”

His control snapped as the rage took over. After all of those years and everything he’d done, things couldn’t end this way for him. “You bitch! I won’t let you do this to me!” He shot across the table, his hands going right for her throat. They tumbled back, falling together when their bodies collided.

The bullets hit him before he and Tracy hit the floor. The bullets thudded into his chest and he realized—she’d drawn her gun before he ever touched her.

His hands were still around her throat and his blood was pumping out.

The door flew open and banged against the wall. Footsteps thundered toward them.

He stared into Tracy’s eyes.

“See,” she whispered, her voice so low that only he could hear it. “I told you…you were a dead man.”

Then he realized…She talked to Bates…she—

“One down,” she whispered. “One to go.”

Hard hands grabbed him and pulled him off her. He tried to speak, but he was just coughing up blood.

“I-I didn’t have a choice,” Tracy said, her voice tumbling out with a high, desperate edge as the other officers went to work on him. “He came at me. I-I didn’t have a choice!”

Pain pulsed through his chest. That lying, traitorous bitch.

He’d trained her too well.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m a really horrible cook,” Elizabeth said.

His eyes slowly opened.

She smiled, feeling her stomach twist in nervousness.

Then he smiled back at her. “Morning, baby.”

His voice was deep and rough and sexy enough to make her panties wet. The tray in her hands trembled a bit and that made the silverware clatter.

He sat up, frowning, as his gaze immediately drifted to the tray she clutched so desperately. “What’s that?”

Okay, so she’d already admitted her cooking wasn’t top notch, but the food wasn’t completely unrecognizable. It should be pretty obvious that she was carrying—“Breakfast,” Elizabeth blurted. “We need it before we, you know, head off to work.”

Like normal people. Because we’re normal now.

His gaze was still on the tray. On the slightly soggy eggs and the pancakes that weren’t circular but were rather some unusual, not quite discernible shape.

“You cooked for me,” he said, still staring at the tray.

He should have actually taken the tray by that point. Since he hadn’t, she thrust it at him. “You’re welcome.” Now she was starting to just feel foolish. She’d never before made breakfast for anyone. But, jeez, when a guy nearly died for you, a girl had to express her appreciation some way.

He took the tray. Put it on his lap. And kept staring up at her like she was insane.

Right then, she had another memory. One that made her lips twitch a bit. “And to think,” she murmured. “When we first met, you said I was the one who didn’t know how to say thank you.”

She started to turn away, but his hand flew out in a lightning-fast move and caught her wrist. Elizabeth looked back at him.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Heat stained her cheeks. “Like I said, you’re welcome.”

“No one…no one ever made me breakfast before.” He was staring at the tray of soggy eggs like they were some kind of gourmet meal.

“Saxon…” Surely his mom had made him breakfast when he’d been little. But…as she stared at him, she realized the guy was staring at the soggy eggs like they were some kind of precious gift.

He pulled her onto the bed. “You’re going to split it with me, right?” He took a bite of the eggs. Those ridiculous, soggy eggs.

“Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll split it with you.”

He offered her a fork filled with eggs—eggs that were dripping off the utensil. She took it, opening her mouth. And when he smiled at her, he didn’t look like the dangerous man she’d met in Miami.

He looks like the man I love.

She was in so much trouble.

***

Saxon had extra clothes in the trunk of his car, and he changed at Elizabeth’s cottage before they headed out for the winery.

When they arrived, he hurried around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. As he stood there, staring down at her, she remembered what it was like to ride through Miami with him on the back of a motorcycle, holding on as tightly as she could.

She rose from the car and let her body brush against his. “Maybe it doesn’t matter if you’re the fighter or the man in the suit.” Her hand pressed against his chest. “Maybe all that matters…is that it’s you.” Then she rose onto her toes and kissed his lips.

His hands settled around her shoulders as he held her close.

She started to hope then. To think that everything was going to be okay. They’d escaped Miami and the nightmare back there. They were together, and every time that Saxon touched her, she seemed to light up from the inside.

He escorted her to her office. Gave her a wink before walking away.

She stared after him and she wondered—

“It’s that way, huh?”

Sloan’s voice came from the right. Her head jerked toward him, and she found him lounging in the hallway, watching her.

“Figured it,” he added, lips twisting, “when he said that you two had been working together so closely…for years.” Then he advanced toward her, his expression angry. “Is the fact that you’re screwing the boss going to mean that I have to watch my job? Am I going to be hitting the street so that you can take over?”

Once, words like that would have made her cringe. Now she just stared at him and shook her head. “You should really be careful what you say.”

His frown deepened. “Why? You gonna run to the big boss and tell him—”

“You don’t want him to know what you’ve said. Trust me.” She turned away from him. “There are worse things than losing a job.”

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around. “I’ve put blood and tears into this job! Your lover didn’t know shit about the wine business until he hired me! Now that we’re operational and ready to make a profit, don’t think that I’m just going to be shut out—”

“Take your hand off me.” Her voice was flat. Lethal. But after being held with a gun to her head, this guy—this pompous ass—wasn’t scaring her. He was pissing her off.

His hand fell away.

“This isn’t your company. It’s his. He can fire you if he wants, and you be assured that if you ever grab me or another employee again,” she bared her teeth in a hard smile, “your ass will be hitting the curb.”

He blinked and actually backed up a step. Damn straight. After facing a hit man, no jerk was going to intimidate her.

“Now I’ve got work to do.” She slammed her door in his face and marched back to her desk. “Dick.”

***

Saxon’s body tensed as he watched Sloan spin on his heel and began to stride angrily away from Elizabeth’s office. The guy had only taken two steps, though, when he staggered to a stop.

He stopp

ed the moment he saw Saxon.

“I’d like a word with you,” Saxon murmured. “In my office.” He was rather impressed by how calm his voice sounded. He turned and headed toward his office, not bothering to glance back and see if the guy was following him.

The fucking jerk.

Saxon strode past the reception area, pausing just long enough to flash a reassuring smile at Vanessa.

But as soon as he entered his office, his smile vanished. He turned on Sloan and the fury within him boiled.

Sloan shut the door. The click seemed incredibly quiet.

“There are a few things that need to be cleared up,” Saxon told him. His fingers clenched into fists.

Sloan glanced down at Saxon’s fisted hands. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then he looked up at Saxon’s face. “Wh-what’s that?” The guy’s voice broke.

“You’re expendable to me. If I want to bring in another wine expert, all I have to do is snap my fingers.”

Sloan paled. “I didn’t mean—”

“To disrespect her? To piss me off? Because you did both, damn well.”

“I’m sorry.” His words tumbled out. “I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

No, it wouldn’t. Because Saxon wasn’t just giving a warning. “Get your shit and get out.”

“What?”

“You grabbed her. I saw you do it, and you’re lucky I didn’t break your hand right then and there.”

Now red rushed to Sloan’s cheeks. “But I’m the one who’s been helping you! I’ve given you information—”

“And I’ve given you a salary,” Saxon said flatly. “You did work, you got paid for it.” Now he stalked toward the SOB. “But when you went after her…” He shook his head. “You made the worst mistake of your life.”

Sloan’s jaw locked. “Because you’re sleeping with her—”

“You saw her yesterday and you wanted her. When you found out she was taken, you got jealous and you said the wrong damn thing to her.” He thought of the guy’s hand, grabbing Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Said and did the wrong thing. So get your shit,” he told the guy once more, “and get out.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

He could do anything he wanted. “Want to bet?”