Baddest Bad Boys (30 page)

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Authors: Shannon McKenna,E. C. Sheedy,Cate Noble

Tags: #Fiction, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #Erotica, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Adult, #Suspense, #Anthologies

BOOK: Baddest Bad Boys
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“No.” He’d left his kit behind, but the items in it were common, untraceable. Wal-Mart probably sold thousands of rolls of duct tape a day.

 

“Then lay low until I figure something out. She’ll probably return to New York, but security will be tightened.”

 

“We both know that’s not a problem. Just get DeLuca out of the picture and I’ll handle the rest.”

 

5

 

“Deal?” Ellie wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly. He wanted a week? “Max, I—”

 

The broken door swung open just then, its squeaking hinge a warning. A uniformed officer pushed into the room, flashlight in one hand, a gun in the other. “Police! Put your hands where I can see them.”

 

Ellie closed her eyes against the blinding light. Her hands were already clutched in front of her, holding onto the blanket for dear life. If that didn’t qualify as visible, well…he could shoot her. She’d been caught naked enough times tonight.

 

“This is the owner of the house, Ellie DeLuca.” Max had raised his hands, while leaning slightly closer to her.

 

Another officer and a blond man wearing a suit came in. The civilian pointed to Max. “That’s my boss, Max DeLuca.”

 

The first officer nodded, holstered his weapon. “Sorry, ma’am. Are you folks okay?”

 

“Yes.” Ellie hugged the blanket and moved to get up. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dressed.”

 

Max shifted her back into his arms and stood. “I’ll carry you up.”

 

She choked back a protest. No one listened to naked people anyway. She’d have more sway fully dressed.

 

“Crime scene won’t like it,” the officer said.

 

“We probably obliterated the crime scene coming back in here,” Max pointed out. “But with the storm, we had no choice.”

 

The officer shrugged. “Try not to touch anything the intruder might have touched.”

 

Ellie suddenly recalled something else about her assailant. “You won’t find fingerprints. He wore gloves. Thin, latex ones. Like a doctor or dentist uses.”

 

The officer pulled out a small notebook. “We’ll need a full description.”

 

“Give us five minutes and a flashlight,” Max said.

 

The blond man handed his light to Ellie. Max nodded and turned away. “That’s Gerard Warhaven, DSI’s new chief of security, by the way. I’ll introduce you properly when we come back down.”

 

Upstairs, he went straight to Ellie’s old room and set her on the bed. Her skin prickled as she swept the beam around the dark room. Had that creep come in here?

 

Max stepped away.

 

“Don’t leave!” She swung the light toward him.

 

He was at her side in an instant. His hands closed over hers, squeezing them. “I’m not going anywhere, El. Just tell me what you need.”

 

“My clothes are in my suitcase. By the dresser. And my shoes—”

 

“Stay put.” He swung her suitcase onto the bed. “Don’t worry about shoes right now.”

 

After she pulled out underwear, jeans, and a tee, he turned away, giving her privacy. The lump in her throat swelled as she dressed. “All clear,” she said a few moments later.

 

“We need to go back down.” Max moved in, but instead of picking her up he cupped her chin. “I know this isn’t easy. I’ll get us out of here as fast as I can.”

 

Us. Uncertainty—about everything—threatened to overwhelm her. “Did I even remember to thank you?”

 

He scooped her off the bed. “Not yet. But then, I probably forgot to thank you, too.”

 

She had looped her arms around his neck, grateful he carried the flashlight this time. “For what? Dragging you out in the middle of a stormy night?”

 

“I’m talking about our deal, El. Thank you for saying yes.”

 

He thought she’d agreed? “A week?”

 

They were at the top of the staircase now. “We’ll talk about it later.” Max started down the steps. “Okay?”

 

Ellie took a deep breath. If she wanted to protest, to preserve her right to renegotiate, now was the time to speak up. Who was she kidding? A week with Max? “Deal.”

 

As soon as he set her on the couch, the power came back on. She blinked at the sudden brightness, tried to take in the people milling around.

 

Gerard Warhaven came over. Max introduced them. “I’d like Gerard to examine your foot, Ellie.”

 

“I was a field medic in the Army,” Gerard explained over her halfhearted protests. He cleaned the wound, then used butterfly sutures to close it before he bandaged it. “I’ll see if I can find a couple ibuprofen to ease the pain while you talk to the cops.”

 

It didn’t take long for Ellie to give her statement. It was sobering to realize the actual incident had occurred in a matter of minutes. The memory, the fear, would stay with her forever. Uncertainty gnawed at her. What would she have done if Max hadn’t shown up tonight? Could she have escaped?

 

She’d like to think so, but listening to the officer’s recap of the events had been disturbing. The power to the house had been cut off by throwing the main switch.

 

“Overriding the burglar alarm was fairly easy because it’s an older system,” the officer said. “The guy probably bought the tools to do it over the Internet. You should have the system replaced.”

 

She nodded. “Trust me, I’ll have everything replaced after this.”

 

“Based on what you’ve told us, I’d surmise that someone followed you here from New York,” the officer went on. “When you get home, you should call the detectives there. Let them know about this.”

 

Max came up then, nodding at the officer before sitting beside her. “How’s the foot?”

 

“Throbbing.” Like her head. “Could be worse, though.”

 

“Look, why don’t you go back to Boston with Gerard. When the police are finished, I’ll secure the house and meet you there.”

 

She started to object, then stopped and looked around. Staying here was no longer an option. And if she were going back to the penthouse, she’d prefer to get there ahead of Max, to have a little time to gather her wits.

 

“I’ll see you there, then.”

 

 

 

As soon as she reached the penthouse, Ellie curled up into a ball on the sofa, physically and emotionally exhausted. I’ll just close my eyes and wait for Max, she told herself.

 

When she woke, sunlight streamed in through the terrace doors. As she lowered her foot to the floor, a dull ache climbed her leg. A check of the time confirmed it was after ten.

 

Disappointment rolled over her as she sensed that Max hadn’t returned. Had something else gone wrong? Or was he having second thoughts about their deal?

 

Was she?

 

No. Not exactly.

 

Her reasons for wishing Max was present were complex. Tangled. Last night he’d made her feel protected, which she wasn’t sure she liked. She lived alone by choice and the experience at the beach house made her realize how much she took her sense of personal freedom and safety for granted. Damn it, she wasn’t going to let some creep rob her of that, either!

 

Then there was the other issue. Max wanted a week. At first she’d felt flattered to think one day wasn’t enough. But seven were? She frowned.

 

An indistinct beeping startled her from her reverie. Her cell phone. Where was it? She pushed off the sofa, slowed by her injured foot. By the time she found her phone, she had missed the call.

 

The screen blinked, indicating she had a voice message.

 

She checked the caller ID first. It had been Max. She listened to his message. He sounded tired.

 

“I’m back in New York. An urgent business matter came up and I went straight to the airport. Gerard’s got orders not to let you out of his sight. If you’ve got a problem with that, tell me. Not him. I’ll call later.” She started to disconnect, but then she heard Max’s voice continue. “I’m really looking forward to our week together, El.”

 

Those last words melted the annoyance that had crept in over his high-handedness. She was disappointed he hadn’t indicated how long he’d be in New York. Last night he’d promised they would discuss the details of their deal later. She’d assumed he meant this morning, but in the harsh light of day, reality encroached.

 

They were both business people. There were schedules to be considered. Arrangements to be made. Calendars to be coordinated. More so on Max’s end. He ran one of the largest multinational shipping companies in the world. In an interview he’d joked that his office was his private jet. Which meant he could be in New York for breakfast and Rotterdam for dinner.

 

Since Ellie was just beginning to resume her career, her schedule was wide open. Her successful career as a designer had imploded following the lawsuits that erupted after Stefan’s death. No one wanted to risk scandal by association, so she was shunned by most. The one exception was a friend, Peter Fourakis. Peter had even asked her to prepare a proposal for a hotel chain, but that wasn’t due for a month.

 

And even though her schedule wasn’t busy, it could be weeks before her agreement with Max was sealed. Viewed like that, their deal now seemed, well, perfunctory. Not exactly what she had in mind.

 

 

 

After showering and changing, Ellie made coffee. Gerard joined her in the kitchen and offered to rebandage her foot. She let him.

 

“It looks better,” he said. “Not as bad as I’d first thought.”

 

“That’s good news.”

 

“By the way, Mr. DeLuca’s been trying to reach you. He sent an e-mail regarding your itinerary. Have you had a chance to review it?”

 

Ellie set her cup aside, sloshing coffee as she nearly missed the tabletop. Max had sent an itinerary already? “No, I haven’t seen it, but I’ll check my laptop now.”

 

Ten minutes later, she logged into her e-mail account. Forty-seven new messages. She paged down, holding her breath, half expecting another threat. Last night she’d given Max her e-mail password so the police could monitor it for new messages. Knowing Big Brother watched didn’t make her feel better.

 

Ignoring the obvious SPAM, she scrolled down looking for Max’s message. When she found it, she grew anxious waiting for it to open as her antivirus software twiddled its cyber-thumbs. What if his schedule was virtually impossible? How far out would he propose that they postpone their week together? Weeks? Months?

 

Max’s message, while short, surprised her.

 

Will meet you at the hangar at three this afternoon.

 

Pack light. Lots of sunscreen.

 

Yours,
M

 

This afternoon? Surely he didn’t think their week started today? Slightly panicked, she reread the note.

 

Pack lightly? Sunscreen? Where were they going? Had he not mentioned their destination in an e-mail for security reasons? Her eyes fell on the clock. She had less than five hours.

 

She hit Reply, intending to list all the reasons she needed more time. Except none of them held water. She clasped her hands in her lap and stared at her nails. To do as Max bid was wildly impulsive. God, when was the last time she’d done anything impulsive?

 

Duh. Try yesterday. Coming here, leaving that note. It didn’t get much more impulsive than that.

 

Still, she felt nervous over making love with Max for the first time. She frowned at her word choice. Technically, this would be their seventh time. In seven years.

 

If it wasn’t so pathetic, all the sevens would sound quasi-mystical. The truth was anything but. Seven years ago she’d been an overprotected nineteen-year-old eager to lose her virginity. Losing her heart hadn’t been a concern.

 

Until she met Max DeLuca. Even then, he’d had a reputation. He comes from a long line of womanizers, her grandfather had warned. Stay clear.

 

At first, she’d heeded that advice and kept her distance. Max had been larger than life. Young, rich, and privileged, not to mention worldly and drop-dead gorgeous. From the first moment they’d met, he’d seemed determined to pursue her. Eventually she’d succumbed. It had been summer break and she and her girlfriends had taken over the beach house. Max and his pals were ensconced next door. Sex was on everyone’s mind back then. When Max learned she was a virgin, he’d backed off. But he hadn’t given up. “No pressure,” he’d promised. “Your first time should be unforgettable.”

 

And that’s exactly what it was. A week before she had to return to campus, she’d given in. Looking back, she realized their first time hadn’t been glorious. In fact, it had been awkward. Max had been patient and understanding, promising it would get better with practice. However, privacy with a houseful of party animals had been rare. Sex between them was rushed, secretive.

 

They’d spent their last night together on the beach. And that had been unforgettable. That night she’d finally found the rhythm. She had been eager to learn everything, but time transpired against them. Max had promised there would be endless opportunities to explore all things carnal in the future. They promised to keep in touch, promised to get together in the fall.

 

It never happened. Fate spun both of them in different directions.

 

She sighed. Was this her chance to turn back time? Were the sevens an omen? Once before, she’d had seven days with Max, but back then, she hadn’t known it would end. Now she did.

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