Leave Me Breathless (23 page)

Things are getting dangerous in TAMING THE MOON, the latest from Sherrill Quinn, out now from Brava!

“L
ook at me.”

She raised heavy lids and stared into dark eyes glinting with the knowledge that she’d gotten the message. He dropped his hand and strutted away from her, confident that she’d stay put.

She watched him, loathing him with each shaky breath she drew. When the bastard had moved in next door, fate had dealt her a dead man’s hand. He’d seen her, had wanted her, so he’d taken her, turning her into a monster. Six weeks ago he’d told her he had a special job for her, a job that could elevate her from Omega to something…well, something more than the bottom of the pack.

She’d perked up, as he’d known she would. But when he’d told her the job was to murder someone, she’d refused. She was a middle school phys ed teacher, for crying out loud. Not an assassin.

But then he’d taken Zoe, threatened to kill her if Olivia didn’t do as she was told. She’d seen him act with swift ruthlessness where disobedience and defiance were concerned. Just a few months ago he’d broken the neck of another pack member’s son as casually as if he were flicking lint off his sleeve. So she had no doubt that, even though he might love Zoe in his own twisted way, he
would
carry through on the threat. So this time when he’d told her to go, she’d gone. Thankfully she had enough tenure and foresight to ask for a leave of absence from work.

Eddy turned to face her. “Go kill Sullivan. You have one week.”

She opened her mouth then closed it. He’d not given her permission to speak yet.

A slight smile tilted one edge of his mouth. “Very good, pet.” He gave an approving nod. “You may respond.”

“A week?”

He lifted his brows. “I’ve given you six weeks already, two of which you squandered by being stubborn. I hardly think you need more than another week.”

She clamped her lips together and gave an abrupt nod. Arguing with him would accomplish nothing except to have him shorten the deadline even further.

He sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I’m not such a bad guy, Livvie.” He shrugged. “I just know what I want, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it—and that includes killing everyone who gets in my way. Some women find that kind of confidence appealing. Attractive, even.”

What kind of women? The ones with a death wish?

She licked her lips. “May I ask what it is you want? Why is it so important that Rory Sullivan be killed? What did he do to you?”

Olivia thought for a moment he wasn’t going to answer her, feared that she may have gone too far when his face darkened. But it was remembered rage that colored his features, not anger directed toward her.

“Let’s just say there’s a man I want to destroy, and I’m beginning by removing everyone who’s important to him. Starting with his friends.” His lips parted in a grin. “I hear he’s fallen in love, so very soon I’ll be ready to take that away from him, too. Although”—he tapped his chin—“if she’s fetching enough, I may have to use her before I kill her.”

“
You’ll
kill her?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She bit her lip, preparing to be smacked because of the incredulity in her tone.

The smile faded from his face, and his eyes narrowed, though he didn’t lift his hand to her. “Yes. The male friends are peripheral, not enough for me to bother with personally. But a wife?” The grin returned, this time so full of malicious glee it wrapped ice around her gut. “To watch his face, the agony in his eyes as I fuck her and then kill her, with him powerless to stop me?” He nodded. “That is something I must do myself.”

Well, if he was going to use Olivia to do some of the dirty work, she damn well deserved to know why. “Who is this man? Why do you hate him so much?”

Eddy turned away from her. “Merr…” He broke off and shook his head. “He had everything—a loving family, wealth, power, and the poor sod couldn’t stand that he wasn’t normal.” With his heightened emotions, Eddy’s New York accent slipped a bit and took on a British flavor. He shook his head again. “It should have all been mine. If his father had just done what I’d asked—
begged!
—things might have been different.”

He trailed off, seeming to be lost in his thoughts. After a moment he shrugged. “Never mind. It’s not something you need to know.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, eyes hard. “All you need to know is that for your daughter to remain safe you have a job to do.”

Eyeing the distance between them, Olivia wondered if she could catch him off guard long enough to kill him. She could morph her fingers into claws now, just like he did. She might be able to do it.

It would only take one quick slash across the throat.

But then what about Zoe? There was at least one bodyguard standing outside her door, his bulk casting a shadow onto the floor of the hallway.

Olivia briefly closed her eyes. She’d never be able to do it. She couldn’t kill Eddy and go for the bodyguard before he could get to Zoe.

She had no other choice. She must finish the job she’d been given.

Thinking back over the last few days, she remembered her first impression of Rory Sullivan. Tall, dark, and dangerous.

An earnest protector.

Sexy as hell. But…

He had to die.

He’s a sneak peek at Jill Shalvis’s INSTANT TEMPTATION, coming next month!

“I
didn’t invite you in, T.J.”

He just smiled.

He was built as solid as the mountains that had shaped his life, and frankly had the attitude to go with it, the one that said he could take on whoever and whatever, and you could kiss his perfect ass while he did so. She’d seen him do it too, back in his hell-raising, misspent youth.

Not that she was going there, to the time when he could have given her a single look and she’d have melted into a puddle at his feet.

Had
melted into a puddle at his feet. Not going there…

Unfortunately for Harley’s senses, he smelled like the wild Sierras; pine and fresh air, and something even better, something so innately male that her nose twitched for more, seeking out the heat and raw male energy that surrounded him and always had. Since it made her want to lean into him, she shoved in another bite of ice cream instead.

He smiled. “I saw on Oprah once that women use ice cream as a substitute for sex.”

She choked again, and he resumed gliding his big, warm hand up and down her back. “You watch Oprah?”

“No. Annie was, and I overheard her yelling at the TV that women should have plenty of both sex
and
ice cream.”

That sounded exactly like his Aunt Annie. “Well, I don’t need the substitute.”

“No?” he murmured, looking amused at her again.

“No!”

He hadn’t taken his hands off her, she couldn’t help but notice. He still had one rubbing up and down her back, the other low on her belly, holding her upright, which was ridiculous, so she smacked it away, doing her best to ignore the fluttering he’d caused and the odd need she had to grab him by the shirt, haul him close, and have her merry way with him.

This was what happened to a woman whose last orgasm had come from a battery-operated device instead of a man, a fact she’d admit, oh
never
. “I was expecting your brother.”

“Stone’s working on Emma’s ‘honey do’ list at the new medical clinic, so he sent me instead. Said to give you these.” He pulled some maps from his back pocket, maps she needed for a field expedition for her research. When she took them out of his hands, he hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his Levi’s. He wore a T-shirt layered with an opened button-down that said
Wilder Adventures
on the pec. His jeans were faded nearly white in the stress spots, of which there were many, nicely encasing his long, powerful legs and lovingly cupping a rather impressive package that was emphasized by the way his fingers dangled on his thighs.

Not that she was looking.

Okay, she was looking, but she couldn’t help it. The man oozed sexuality. Apparently some men were issued a handbook at birth on how to make a woman stupid with lust. And he’d had a lot of practice over the years.

She’d watched him do it.

Each of the three Wilder brothers had barely survived their youth, thanks in part to no mom and a mean, son-of-a-bitch father. But by some miracle, the three of them had come out of it alive and now channeled their energy into Wilder Adventures, where they guided clients on just about any outdoor adventure that could be imagined; heli-skiing, extreme mountain biking, kayaking, climbing,
anything.

Though T.J. had matured and found success, he still gave off a don’t-mess-with-me vibe. Even now, at four in the afternoon, he looked big and bad and tousled enough that he might have just gotten out of bed and wouldn’t be averse to going back.

It irritated her. It confused her. And it turned her on, a fact that drove her bat-shit crazy because she was no longer interested in T.J. Wilder.

Nope.

It’d be suicide to still be interested. No one could sustain a crush for fifteen years.

No one.

Except, apparently, her. Because deep down, the unsettling truth was that if he so much as directed one of his sleepy, sexy looks her way, her clothes would fall right off.

Again.

And wasn’t that just her problem, the fact that once upon a time, a very long time ago, at the tail end of T.J.’s out-of-control youth, the two of them had spent a single night together being just about as intimate as a man and woman could get. Her first night with a guy. Definitely not his first. Neither of them had been exactly legal at the time, and only she’d been sober.

Which meant only she remembered.