Yuliy shifted uncomfortably, hands wringing an imaginary hat.

  “Someone demanded.”

  “Yes, I am sorry.”

  With the bored sigh of a woman who believed this entire fiasco beneath her, she made a waving motion with her hand. “Bring him up.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Ana.”

  He headed off and she returned her attention to the groping men, gyrating women and all the other things she was more than happy to avoid on a daily basis.

  During her wait, she thought about Masters calling her Annie. It was unlike him. Hell, it was personal. Does he see more in me? Is this even the right time to try to figure it out? Probably not.

  She finished her drink and had waved for another when she noticed Yuliy returning, a man walking behind him, trying to appear more important than he was. The expression on Yuliy’s face chilled her blood.

  She actually liked this informant. He had a hard life and did what he did to make extra money to take care of his family. He’d never betrayed her and hadn’t ever asked questions to make her think he could be playing another side.

  “Ms. Ana,” he said, waiting a respectable distance away.

  “Come, Yuliy. Who is this you bring to see me?”

  The man stepped past Yuliy and pushed him back. Anabelle Lee recognized his kind in an instant. The type who thought his looks got him a pass on being an ass. She couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but his eyes, aptly called the windows to the soul, were serpentine.

  “I’m Karvic.” He ran his blue gaze over her body, a leer crossing his face.

  Anabelle Lee didn’t respond to his perusal of her figure. She had worn this dress for a reason. The pucker center, front and back, highlighted her form to perfection. The short to long flared hemline accentuated her baby-smooth legs and the strappy back showed off more skin to entice and distract men. She knew she looked hot. The hunter green of the dress complemented her red hair and tan skin.

  The waitress appeared out of nowhere to replace her drink then vanished again. Anabelle Lee lifted the coupe and sipped once. “You say that like it should mean something to me.”

  He drew back but recovered quickly.

  “No, I don’t think you should know me, but you will.”

  “Are you worthy of this attitude you are trying to portray? Or is it nothing more than youthful posturing?”

  “I’ve earned it.”

  Not short on confidence, this one. She inspected her nails. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to guess how you earned it, or are you going to stop preening and tell me?”

  “I run a gang here in the city. We are one of the two tops.”

  “I don’t deal in petty drugs.” She waved him away as if he were nothing more than an annoying insect.

  “If I could finish,” Karvic said.

  Yuliy stepped back and appeared as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. She didn’t blame him.

  Rising from her seat, she watched Karvic’s eyes run over her once more. “Don’t get it twisted, Karvic,” she purred in a low voice, one he had to lean in closer to hear. “I didn’t get to my position by letting little snots who run dime and nickel bags of shit around the streets to get in my face like that.” She stepped to him until she had the ability to touch him if she wished. “Don’t let the clothing fool you. I am not averse to getting my hands dirty.”

  He refused to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ana. I spoke out of turn. I only meant to convey that because of my position, I would be available to give you prime information and intel if you were looking for any of that.”

  Karvic was a bit too eager and it set off all her flags to be cautious. Still, there was always a chance he meant every word he said and was acting squirrelly because of her and the clothes she wore. Not exactly a good trait for a leader, but hey, it happens.

  “You bring me something and I’ll see.” She walked past them both and left without so much as a farewell.

  After a final stop in another club, one she also frequented, Anabelle Lee made it back to her home. She dropped the green and gold clutch on the settee as she strode with single-minded determinedness to the drink bar.

  She’d finished her first bit of vodka when the door opened, admitting Masters.

  “Well?”

  “Always so impatient,” she chided, fixing him a drink. “What are you doing here? Came to see if I needed help unzipping?”

  She faced him, a mocking smile turning up her lips.

  “We both know you saw the back of this dress and there aren’t any zippers there, but go ahead. Take a look and see if you know how to get me out of this thing.”

  He flexed his right hand, but didn’t approach her.

  “What did you learn?”

  With a careless shrug, she sashayed toward him, offering him a vodka she’d just poured when he’d entered. Their fingertips brushed and she damn near dropped the glass, the spike of electricity there too much to handle.

  Anabelle Lee filled him in on Karvic and the offer he’d brought to her. As she spoke, she made her way to the master bedroom, where she stripped out of the dress and put on some silk pajamas.

  “So do you have a key to this house, or are you breaking in?” She reentered the room and found him by the window, looking as imposing as ever.

  “I have a key.”

  “And if I have a man in here with me, should I put a rubber band on the door handle so you know and don’t interrupt us?”

  While she had the chance to see his features, there wasn’t any way she missed the tensing of his entire body. For whatever reason, picking on him was getting more and more gratifying. Yes, it was childish, she couldn’t deny that, but watching him struggle to retain the iron hold on his control was such a dare to her.

  Could she break it?

  Could she make it snap like a twig?

  Would she finally be able to get him to face her and see her as a woman and not someone who worked for him?

  Just like they said in school, the ones who pick on you are the ones who like you the most.

  “You’re not here to get laid, Anabelle Lee. You’re here to do a job.”

  “I’m well-aware. Not my first rodeo, you know.”

  She refilled her drink then carried it and a packet that had been left for her over to the couch and sank on it, curling her legs beneath her.

  Masters spun and she gazed at him.

  “What’s that?”

  “I asked for some information on the groups I used to be in bed with. I haven’t been Ms. Ana Volkov for a while now. And I wanted to make sure I didn’t go back and make a mistake.”

  He grunted his approval and claimed a seat across from her. “How can I help?”

  “You can’t. No offense, but this is an intel gathering mission and you know how those go. I just need a refresher on my stuff, all my holdings, so I don’t get tripped up. Nothing else to be done. If you need to sleep, go ahead and use the bed. I’ll be out here for a few hours.” There were plenty of other rooms in this house but she’d only asked for one to be prepared for the time being. Tomorrow a few more would be opened and aired out.

  She wasn’t flirting with him. Her mind had clicked over to work only and that was where her focus had to stay until it was over. There had been many missions where operatives took shifts and shared the one bed they had. This would be no different.

  Except he’s not your brother or cousin and you don’t want to jump them with every heartbeat as you do Masters.

  Right, should be a walk in the park.

  Not.

  Masters did not argue with her. He just strode to the king-sized bed and stood beside it, staring at the pristine white covers. All he could see was the spread of her red hair along the surface, clashing with the purity of the coverlet.

  He ripped off his shirt then sat on the edge to unlace his boots.

  “Did I see the dress? Of course I saw the fucking dress. It looked as if it had been painted on her,” he grumbled to himself and the empty room.

  He’d wanted to punch the person with her in the face for looking at her. Hell, the entire club population had watched her as if she were about to be their feast. Yet, none had treated her with disrespect—in fact, it had been more fear he’s seen when they’d looked at her.

  She’d been here undercover for over two years and he had no doubt her reputation still carried over from those days. He’d read the reports and knew some of what she’d had to go through to survive and maintain her spot at the top. However, like with all operations, there were some snippets of information that hadn’t made it into the file. He had no doubt that was what had happened in her case.

  Placing his boots off to the side, he closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. Exhaustion hit him. He’d been going nonstop for a long time now and needed a vacation. This wasn’t it, but at least he could grab some sleep and not worry about someone coming into the room to kill him.

  Unless he’d done something to piss off his redheaded fighter.

  Standing, he undid the button on his jeans, slid them down over his hips and laid them across a chair with his shirt. Back at the bed, he drew the covers down and slid between the sheets, sucking in a sharp breath at the cold.

  It didn’t take long, however, before he was warm. Shifting to his side, he slid a hand beneath the pillow and drew it back quick. Reaching over to turn on the light beside him, he moved the pillow and saw a Beretta there. He checked under the other three pillows on the bed and found she had a weapon under each one.

  “Ahh, Annie, what a world of mistrust you live in.”

  Yes, he was in the same world, but he only had one gun beneath his pillow in his bed. He was able to leave it at work.

  Except when I got the news she had been taken.

  He pushed that memory away and clicked off the light. Sleep found him moments later. He woke to his phone vibrating against his leg where he’d left the item.

  “Masters.”

  “Sorry to bother you, boss, but there’s been an incident involving Kevin McNeal.” His secretary, Mino, was on the other end.

  He jolted up in bed and reached for his clothes the second the light was on. “Talk to me.”

  Kevin had come through the ranks with him in Theta Corps and headed his own team. They were friends, despite Masters having poached one of his best agents from him not too long ago. Bailey Hyde—well, now she was Bailey Vinokourov. One of the best assassins he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting and not through a scope.

  “All we know is his car went off the road. He’s not in a good way and all signs point to sabotage—his brake lines were punctured.”

  “So they’ve ruled out accidental puncture?”

  Phone between shoulder and cheek, he shoved into his pants.

  “Correct. Too many holes of the exact size, all made by the same item.” A door clicked shut. “They don’t think he’s going to make it and I know you’re in Russia, but he’s been asking for you.”

  “Give me a second.” He put down the phone and tugged on his shirt. He picked up the phone once more and he continued, “Let me talk to Anabelle Lee and I’ll get back to you.”

  He ignored his boots and hurried down the hall to the living room to find Anabelle Lee reading in the same place he’d left her a few hours earlier. A fire burned in the hearth and she had some old-school R&B playing low in the room. She was singing along with Gladys Knight.

  “And I appreciate that,” he said, remarking on the lyrics she sang.

  She jumped and swore as she faced him. “Damn you. I thought you were sleeping.”

  “I was. Mino called.”

  “What’s up?” She put all her attention on him and not the papers in her hand.

  “McNeal has been in an accident and is asking for me. They don’t think he will make it.”

  “Go. This is nothing more than recon and intel gathering. I’ll be fine.”

  “You need backup. You didn’t exactly have friends when you did this before.”

  “A person in my position isn’t going to have friends. I’m cold and ruthless.” She reached for her cup of tea and took a sip.

  “Yeah, you look it.”

  Angling her head, she gave him a Cheshire cat grin.

  “What do you think makes me so damn good at my job? Do you want me to call a cab for you?”

  “I’ve not decided if I’m going yet.”

  She snorted. “You need to go. McNeal is your friend and I’m guessing that’s a particular pool which is limited in its swimmers.”

  Truer words have never been spoken.

  “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Fine.” She waved a hand. “Go.”

  Dialing Mino back, he hadn’t even said hi when she began, “I’ll have the car pick you up at the airport. I’ve got you booked on the first flight out.”

  “Thank you, Mino. How are things there?”

  “Fine. Beau’s not peed on anything inside for at least two days so we’re all real proud of him for that.”

  From her tone, he had no doubt the man in question was right there, hearing her words.

  “Give him a cookie.”

  She snickered. “Will do. See you after you get here, sir.” She was gone.

  “A car will be here for you in about ten minutes. They’ll take you directly to the airport.”

  He shoved his phone in his pocket and stared at the woman lounging on her couch, wearing nothing more than a black satin gown and matching robe. Her hair, which she’d gathered in haphazard fashion on the top of her head, showing off her swanlike neck.

  Her beauty hurt his eyes. And she wasn’t flirting with him. No, quite the opposite. She was working. Hell, she’d not even looked at him as she’d delivered the information about the car coming to pick him up and take him to his flight.

  “Anabelle Lee.”

  She flipped another page and only then did she look over at him. “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I always am.” She went back to work on perusing the sheets before her.

  Despite her bravado, he saw the shadows in the depths of that cobalt-blue gaze. He admired her more than he’d ever share with her. The way she was able to put her own fears aside to get the job done. Yes, it was part of the life they had chosen, but it didn’t lessen his admiration. Never would.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She waved him on without looking at him. Masters ground his jaw but headed for the door. Seconds before he yanked it open, she called out to him.

  “Maybe you can find that zipper when you get back.”

  He smiled and walked out to the waiting car. All he needed now was McNeal to hold on until he got there. Regardless, the farther the car took him from the woman he’d left, he was already counting down until they were going to be together again. Him and Anabelle Lee.

  Chapter Four

  #xa0;

  The smell of bacon, eggs and more filtered down to her nose, tempting and coaxing her from deep sleep. With a hand wrapped around her Walther, she slid from the comfortable bed and headed up the hall.

  Peering around the corner, she smiled as she saw the man cooking the food.

  “Grams would be pissed if you showed up at the breakfast table packing heat, cuz.”

  Beauregard stood there, clad only in a pair of blue jeans that hung low on his waist. Dark hair touched his shoulders and she skimmed over the present scars on his back. Her cousin had been in some scrapes, no joke.

  “She’d be more pissed if I allowed myself to be killed without defending myself from an intruder.”

  “I’m making you breakfast. What kind of killer does that?”

  “You.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and winked. “But I’m family.”

  “Exactly why I think the way I do.” She lowered her weapon and walked farther into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

  “I finished an op early and came here when I heard about McNeal.”

  “Any news?”

  “Nope, but it doesn’t look good. Bailey and Masters are there with him.”

  She didn’t need to think about Masters. “I’m going to change.”

  “Better hurry. This bacon is almost done and I’m splitting what’s left when you come back, not what’s there now.”

  A warning she took to heart. Tugging her turtleneck down over the waist of her black jeans, she made her way to where her cousin waited with her food.

  “Damn, that was fast. You need to teach other women how to get ready quick.”

  She rolled her eyes and went for the plates. “You should up the quality of women you fuck.”

  “The women I pleasure are perfectly happy with the arrangements.”

  This time she snorted and about dropped the plates as she took them to the table. “Stop deluding yourself. You have several exes who I’m sure wouldn’t have an issue killing you if they saw you again.”

  “Like yours?”

  Cold slammed into her and she put her gaze on his waiting one. “Really?”

  “You never told us you married the fucker and he did come back to kill you.”

  Point taken.

  Beau carried over the food and distributed it on each plate. Then he grabbed the coffee and filled both mugs.

  “Eat.”

  At the mention of her ex, her appetite had vanished. Still, she obeyed her cousin’s order. It had always been that way—other than Grams, Beau had called the shots, given out the instructions and taken care of her and her brother. It didn’t matter that she was a grown woman—if he wanted her to eat something, she would sit and eat.

  Staring at the food before her, she saw he’d done her eggs how she liked them—over easy—crispy bacon and two pieces of wheat toast, both slathered with butter.

  “Thank you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked as he sipped some coffee.

  “It wasn’t important.”

  “Excuse me? Seriously? You married him, brought him into the family, you’re goddamn right it’s important.”

  His anger was palpable.

  “Let it go, please.”

  “And he isn’t coming back again, is he?”

  “Not unless hell has an early release program.” She bit into a piece of bacon.