This was the part that burned him. “You were his partner. No one worked more closely with him than you did.” So if anyone would have known about Gary’s true nature, it would have been her.
She paled as she stared up at him. “You were the one who partnered us. I didn’t know him until I got the assignment. I had no idea the guy was-was taking hits!”
He wanted to believe her and because of that, he had to make absolutely sure he showed no weakness. “You’re being investigated.” She would have already figured that part out on her own. “The FBI Brass is on a witch hunt right now, looking to take down anyone who might have been working with Gary.” And that was the fear. That there were others like him embedded in the FBI. “Your life is about to be torn apart, Tracy. Every secret that you have will be brought right out into the hard light of day.”
She pulled away from him. Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t have secrets. I’m a good FBI agent.”
It almost sounded like a mantra that she had to repeat.
He walked to the small table. Pulled out a chair and settled down. “We’ll see about that…”
Anger flashed in her eyes. Anger…and fear.
His back teeth ground together. If she’d betrayed him, then he’d make certain she paid.
“Is…is Gary still alive?”
He just stared back at her.
“Because if he is, then he can tell you I wasn’t working with him,” Tracy said quickly. “Just ask him. Just—”
“He’s in critical condition at the hospital right now.” Because Saxon had wanted to destroy that SOB. The guy hadn’t exactly been playing nicely. When your life was on the line—or the life of someone you cared about—nice didn’t enter the equation. “He’s not exactly able to talk right now.”
With slow, shuffling footsteps, she made her way to the table and slid into her chair. “I’ve never been on this side of the table.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t like it.” A hoarse confession.
He flattened his hands on that old table top. There was nothing about this that he liked. “Gary tried to kill me last night. You were his partner. You are his partner, so if anyone was involved in this tangled hell with him, it would be you.”
That was the story the higher-ups at the FBI were spinning.
But Tracy shook her head. “It’s not me.” Her hand flew across the table and grabbed his wrist. She leaned forward and her voice lowered. “Vic, you know me. Inside and out.”
Fuck. She would bring up that night. One time.
“I wouldn’t do this.”
He stared back at her. This conversation was being recorded so he might as well put all the cards on the table. “We had sex once, before you came on board with my team.”
She flushed and glanced toward the one-way mirror.
“So I know you physically, yes, but that won’t have one bit of bearing on my investigation.”
Her hand pulled away.
He gave her a grim smile. There was no room for emotion, not when lives were on the line. Not when Saxon had come so close to death. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”
She blinked quickly, as if trying to banish tears. “Vic…”
It was a good thing he was used to playing the role of the cold-blooded bastard. “No secrets, Tracy,” he told her, voice curt. “And no lies.”
Because no one hurt his brother and walked away. No one.
Chapter Ten
My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Elizabeth locked her knees and silently repeated that little mantra to herself one more time.
My name is Bethany Meadows. My friends call me Beth.
Two weeks had passed since she’d lost her life—and that was how she thought of it. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Elizabeth Ward was gone. Vanished. Victor had whisked her away. He’d gotten her out of the police station in Miami and stayed with her even while a US Marshall came to explain the whole Witness Protection Program thing to her.
After the US Marshall had appeared, she’d expected Victor to dump her and walk away…but he’d stayed. Told her that he was handling things personally with her. Since she’d been barely holding her shit together, she’d been grateful to have him at her side. Victor had lingered while she was transferred and, finally, settled along the California Coast.
Wine country. Victor had put her in wine country, and it truly was a beautiful place. Nestled far from the hustle and bustle of the city, the whole area seemed like some kind of oasis to her. When she stared outside of her little cottage, she just saw miles and miles of rolling green space.
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!
&
nbsp; “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 fucking 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.