The Dom Identity (Masters & Mercenaries Reloaded 2)

He would feel better when he knew what he was dealing with. “And where are we on the other job?”

“The gate is open and totally broken. They won’t get that sucker fixed for weeks,” Deke promised. “I already tipped off the paparazzi, so they should be swarming around her house soon. I suggest you offer to drive her home so you’re with her when she realizes she can’t stay there.”

“That’s a good plan.” Again he felt a kick of guilt, but he shoved it down. Honestly, this was for her own good.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down. It was Hutch.

Your girl got some bad news. You need to get in here now.

He looked up at Deke. That was interesting timing. “I think she already knows. Figure out who that man is for me. I want to know why he came after her. If all goes well, you’ll get to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

Deke nodded. “Gotta be better than my car. I’ll check in later, and I’ll keep an eye on Kyle, too.”

At least he had one member of the team watching his back.

If Vanessa knew, then she had someone in the neighborhood she was friendly with. It might explain her late-night visitor. He wanted to ID that guy, too.

He jogged back down the hall and hoped he looked casual as he entered MaeBe’s room. He pushed through and stopped at the sight in front of him. Somehow he’d thought she would be angry. Vanessa didn’t look mad. She looked completely lost. MaeBe was holding Vanessa’s hand, and tears streaked down her face. Her free hand was holding her cell, and she was shaking.

“Hey, she got bad news,” MaeBe said. “Something happened at her house.”

Vanessa turned and let go of MaeBe’s hand. She seemed to try to shake off the tears. “It’s nothing. The gate at my housing development is broken. Some asshole plowed through it. So the press is now outside my house. It’s okay. I’ll go to a hotel.”

That wasn’t happening. Not when he’d gone to so much trouble to put her in this very position.

“Where they’ll find you again?” He stepped in and reached a hand out. “You’re coming home with me. I have a nice guest room. You can hide out for a couple of days. I’ll drive you to and from work. And don’t tell me no. This is exactly the kind of thing I’m supposed to take care of for you.”

She took his hand, and he hauled her close. The minute he wrapped his arms around her, she burst into tears. All of that emotion that she’d kept inside came rolling out.

Or she was acting again.

He didn’t think so. She clung to him like he was the last real thing in the world.

He held her as she sobbed, and he felt equal parts hero and villain.

But mostly he knew he was the bad guy.

Chapter Seven

Vanessa stared at the apartment, and a chill went through her. Her senses had started to tingle when she’d realized Michael drove a hundred-thousand-dollar car, but they’d gone on high alert when he’d pulled up to the gorgeous Victory Park apartment building. It wasn’t really apartments. There would be no renters here. Everyone in this building would own their place, and they would have spent millions for the pleasure.

But she’d tamped down her suspicions because maybe people who worked for security firms made more than she thought they did. Maybe he was an executive and she didn’t understand his situation.

Then he’d taken her up to the penthouse.

She stopped as the door closed behind her. She stood on the marble floors and took in the entryway. It had obviously been “done.” There was an elegant mirror and table where Michael stashed his keys. On the opposite wall was a painting she was pretty sure she recognized. It was by a famous contemporary artist. It was probably worth more than his car. “Who are you?”

He turned in the hallway, seeming to understand that she wasn’t following him in. A brow rose over his eyes. “I thought we’d gone over this.”

She glanced down and noticed he was wearing a different pair of loafers than he’d worn the other day, this one every bit as designer and expensive. “Yes, but now I think we should have gone deeper. You said you were Michael Malone and you worked for a security firm. Do you own it?”

“No. I work for McKay-Taggart. I am neither McKay nor Taggart.” He frowned. “What is this about? This place? Vanessa, come inside and we’ll talk. You had a rough day.”

“Not until I understand who you are.”

He seemed to think about that for a moment. “I’m Michael Malone. My parents own Malone Oil and Energy. I have a trust fund that would fund a small country for many years. I don’t make a big deal out of it. This place is a good investment. I also like the location. It’s close to the office, and more importantly, I share this floor with my favorite cousin and his wife.”