“Saw something that I didn’t like,” he said.

  “But aren’t the good guys watching, too?”

  “Yes, but as long as Carver feeds them the intel they want, they’re happy.”

  “And you’re worried that happy equals complacent or sloppy?” she asked.

  “Exactly. Carver’s cagey as hell. He’s a master at vanishing like smoke.”

  She marveled at his courage, at the strength of character it took to put what was right ahead of what was easy, even if it meant risking his job. Zoe’s job meant everything to her—flying meant everything, and she wondered if she could put the right to do that on the line and be willing to walk away from it if she had to.

  But that was just it; she’d never have to. It wasn’t her job to make those kinds of decisions. It was Parker’s, and she was beginning to understand what he had at stake.

  Everything.

  All the time.

  It was little wonder that he lived the way he did, with few to no distractions, no ties, and no real home base.

  “I’ll fly you,” she heard herself say.

  He started to shake his head, but she said, “The Caravan’s been repaired and Joe wants to sell it. I’m taking it up north today so the buyer can get a look at it. Rocky Falls is a barely there detour. You can come along and get a look at what you need to see on the way.”

  “No.”

  “No?” she asked, surprised.

  “I’m not going to ask this of you.”

  “Well, that’s the thing,” she said. “You didn’t ask. I offered.”

  He didn’t respond, and given his expression, he wasn’t going to change his mind, either. And suddenly she realized what she’d given up, because just yesterday he’d have moved toward her, taken her into his warm arms, and pulled her in tight like he’d done so often since he’d come to Sunshine.

  God. Had it really only been a little over a week ago?

  “Not happening,” he said, sounding different to her. A little cool, a little distant, and she found her mad.

  “Why?” she asked. “Because I’m not going to sleep with you anymore? We aren’t even friends now, is that it?”

  “Not what I said.” He paused. “And there’s been very little sleeping involved.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  He looked at her for a long moment, as if wrestling with himself. And given his overactive sense of privacy, he probably was. God forbid he just come out and say something about himself without being arm-wrestled for it.

  “When I first came out here,” he finally said, “I thought this case was about one thing.”

  “Yes,” she said. “The antiquities dealer making a boatload of money off his illegal gains, right?”

  “Right. But now it’s something else, something bigger, and I won’t drag you into it.”

  “How would me flying you around on a sightseeing trip drag me into anything?” she asked.

  “Maybe it wouldn’t, but you’ve already flown me over Cat’s Paw once. I’m not going to risk Carver noticing you for the second time. He might get suspicious and investigate, and realize he knows you. And if Carver found you, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “It’s not even the same plane as before,” she said. “It’ll be the Caravan today. It was the Cardinal last time.”

  “And when you flew him before,” he asked, “or his men, was that always the Cardinal?”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure.”

  Parker ran a hand down his face, and she knew she had him. She also knew nothing bad would happen to her while she was with him; he’d protect her, body and soul.

  The real question was, how to protect her heart?

  Their flight was quiet and—at least in Zoe’s case—a little awkward. She had no experience with this, falling for a guy, having sex—and not just any kind of sex, but the fantasy kind, where orgasms happen in a shocking blink without having to strain for them—and then having to act like they hadn’t.

  Parker didn’t seem to be having the same problem. He was calm, quiet. Focused. Like maybe she was pretty damn easy to get over. Her attitude deteriorated a little at that, but she was a professional, she reminded herself. She’d keep it bottled up tight.

  And for the most part, she thought she was successful with that as she handled the testing on the plane and then flew them over Rocky Falls, specifically Cat’s Paw.

  Parker had both his laptop and long-range camera, quietly scoping the place out.

  “Anything interesting?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, dividing a gaze between the scope and the laptop screen, but he didn’t elaborate. He did, however, take out his high-powered binoculars as well and had her make a second pass.

  And then a third.

  She had no idea what he was looking for as he took a long careful look at the surrounding area before finally indicating that he was satisfied.

  After that, she flew onward, landing at the private airstrip of the Caravan’s potential buyer. That detour, the meeting, and the potential new owner’s inspection took the better part of the afternoon.

  When they finally landed back in Sunshine, Zoe turned to a very quiet Parker. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “If anyone were to come into the airport asking for the flight logs from today, would they be able to get them?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  Face blank, he looked at her for a long beat. His expression was a visceral reminder that they were practically strangers.

  Except they weren’t. He’d helped her fix up her house. He’d rescued two kittens for her neighbor. He’d kissed her like she hadn’t been kissed in too damn long, making her feel sexy, wanted . . . “No,” she said. “No one should be able to get the flight logs without some sort of court order.”

  “Which doesn’t mean that they can’t,” he said. “They could get stolen. Or leaked.”

  “Well, yes,” she said. “But it hasn’t happened before, that I know of.” She paused. “Sorry about the bad day and all the dead ends.”

  “Nothing where I get to be with you is ever bad.”

  The man had a knack for saying things that hit her right in the heart, and she had to swallow past the lump in her throat.

  They exited the plane, Parker moving with the same easy confidence with which he did everything, when he turned to her.

  She couldn’t see much behind his mirrored sunglasses, which only served to make him appear even more badass. “It wasn’t a dead end,” he said.

  She waited for more and when it didn’t come, she blew out a sigh. “You’re pretty damn annoying sometimes; anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Every woman in my life,” he said without hesitation.

  This caught her off guard. “I was trying to insult you, but you don’t seem insulted in the least. And just out of curiosity’s sake, how many women are currently in your life?”

  “Too many,” he said a little grimly, and when he saw her expression at that, he reached for her hand and squeezed.

  Their first physical contact all day, something she’d yearned for, but all she wanted to do was smack him.

  “There’s my boss,” he said. “Sharon’s pretty certain I’m the most annoying man alive. And then there’s my sister. Amory loves me, but I annoy her big-time. It’s a special talent of mine.”

  “Hard to believe,” she said, hoping the teasing note in her tone served as an apology for sounding like a shrew.

  He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her palm. “And then there’s you,” he said with one of his panty-melting smiles.

  She tugged her hand free. “Okay,” she said. “No more of that, because my clothes tend to fall off when you look at me like that.”

  He laughed, but his smile slowly faded. “Cat’s Paw has gone cold,” he said quietly. “They’ve moved out.”

  She took in the tight look in his eyes, the grim set to his mouth. “You’re frustrated.”

  “Frustration is a useless emotion. Goes against productivity.”

  “So you never let frustration get to you?” she asked.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I didn’t say that.”

  She sucked in a breath and then another one when he pulled his sunglasses off and let her see the heat in his eyes. And then he slid a hand to the back of her neck and drew her in and kissed the ever-living daylights out of her.

  When he pulled back, he slid his glasses back on.

  “What was that?” she managed.

  “Me, letting my frustration get to me.”

  And then he was gone, heading inside to wait while she did the postflight check and tie-down.

  It didn’t take long. Within thirty minutes she was done and entered the airport reception hangar.

  The open greeting area had a few people milling around and there were several more up front, not a single one of them Parker.

  Joe was behind the front desk. “You sell our baby?” he called out.

  “Did my best,” she said. “I think they’ll be calling you. Have you seen Parker?”

  Joe gestured toward the hallway. Zoe headed that way, taking a quick side trip toward the restrooms, when suddenly she was stopped and pushed up against the wall. In the next beat, a mouth covered hers.

  Parker. She’d have recognized his kiss blindfolded but her heart still leapt into her throat at the feel of his bigger, harder body pressing hers into the wall, holding her there for his kiss.

  Not that she wanted to escape. It felt so good, so heart-stoppingly good that she struggled to free her hands just so that she could get them on him.

  Instead, he growled—growled!—and grabbed her hands, pinning them on either side of her head as he kissed her deeper.

  And then deeper still, so that escaping was just about the furthest thing from her mind. As for the closest thing on her mind? Finding a place to break her promise to herself and get them both naked as soon as possible.

  Parker couldn’t believe it when he’d seen Tripp Carver coming through the front door of the airport. He’d had a single heartbeat to realize that the guy was about to see him and Zoe—who was coming toward him with a smile on her face—and he reacted.

  He pushed Zoe up against the wall and kissed her, hiding both of their faces.

  He had no idea why Carver was here right now, but he could guess. He was heading out, never to be seen again. And if that was true, the very last thing Parker wanted was to get caught spying on the Butcher with Zoe anywhere near him.

  She could kick his ass later, but for right now this was about getting out of here without her being seen.

  When he heard Carver pass by them and head down the hallway toward the private lounge, Parker broke off the kiss but left his mouth against hers. “Zoe.”

  She blinked slowly, dazed. “Yeah?”

  “I need you to go to Joe’s office, lock the door, and stay there until I come for you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ll explain later, move now.” And when she just stared at him, he added a quiet but hopefully urgent “Please, Zoe.” Having no choice but to believe that she trusted him enough to do as he asked, he took off after Carver.

  Twenty-five

  Parker’s urgency had Zoe moving instinctually to Joe’s office, which was right off the hallway and only ten feet away. She shut the door and hit the lock and then stood there for a second, trying to gather her wits.

  Didn’t happen.

  When several minutes passed—okay, maybe thirty seconds—and Parker didn’t come for her, she was driven by a need to make sure he was okay. She cracked open the door and peeked down the hallway. It took a ninety-degree turn so she couldn’t see around the corner. She closed herself back in the office and once again locked the door just as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She whipped it out. “Parker, where the hell are you—”

  “It’s Darcy,” her sister said. “You didn’t look at the ID screen?”

  “No, I—” Zoe swiped a hand down her face and let out a low laugh. “Sorry. Parker just told me to stay and I got all discombobulated.”

  “No man tells me to stay and lives through it,” Darcy said. A beat went by. “He give you a reason?”

  “No,” Zoe said. “One minute he was kissing me and the next he got all weird and told me to stay, threw out a ‘please,’ and he took off.”

  “You should definitely stay,” Darcy said.

  “But you just said that if a man told you to stay, he wouldn’t live through it.”

  “Yes,” Darcy said. “But you have sharp instincts. Remember that time we were in Budapest and I was hungry and you wouldn’t let me eat because you had a weird feeling?”

  “Because what you wanted to eat was some bad-looking fish.”

  “It looked fine to me and everyone else in the market,” Darcy said. “Remember I asked around?”

  “God, you were a spoiled brat that day,” Zoe said. “And everyone but us got sick. I saved you.”

  “No, your instincts saved us,” Darcy said. “Which is my point. What do your instincts say now?”

  “That something’s up.” Zoe’s heart was beating heavily, although there was a solid argument to be made that it was from the kiss. She felt anxious, especially when she once again peeked out and peeked around the corner of the hallway, past the restrooms and pilots’ lounge to the side exit and saw not a single soul. She moved back to Joe’s office.

  Still no Parker. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Follow your instincts,” Darcy said firmly.

  Zoe disconnected and tried calling Parker. No answer. Dammit. Darcy had suggested she follow her instincts, but her instincts were tied. She needed a tiebreaker. So she called the most logical, reasonable, straight-headed person she knew—her brother.

  Wyatt answered sounding harried and rushed. “Yeah?”

  “You mean ‘Hello, sister, lovely to hear from you,’” Zoe said.

  “Hello, sister, I’m about to go elbows deep in a cow. Literally,” Wyatt said. “State your emergency or hang up.”

  “Parker told me to stay,” she said.

  “Then stay,” Wyatt said without missing a beat.

  “What?” Zoe asked. “You don’t just tell a woman to stay and expect her to do it blindly.”

  Wyatt sighed. “You’re calling me again why?”

  “Because this is all your fault, he’s your friend!”

  “And I think he’s something far more to you,” Wyatt said calmly. “Or you wouldn’t be calling me all bent out of shape because someone bossed you around, when we all know you have to be the boss.”

  “I don’t—” Zoe pressed a finger to her twitching eye. “I just . . .” She didn’t know. She’d called an end to things and she’d already been conflicted about that before the kiss. “I’m a little out of my league here,” she confessed.

  “Well, join the club,” Wyatt said. “Falling in love isn’t for the weak, that’s for damn sure.”

  “I’m not falling in love.”

  “You sure?”

  Dammit. She’d never been so unsure in her entire life. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Yeah,” Wyatt said. “But Zoe? Do him a favor and give him the benefit of the doubt. And then if you care about him like I think you do, hear him out before you shut him out.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I don’t shut people out.”

  “Mom. Dad. Me when I went to undergrad in New York. Every man you’ve ever dated. Should I go on?” Wyatt asked.

  She disconnected. And then blew out a breath as she looked around. Out the side wall of windows she could see Devon preparing the Lear for flight. He must have caught a flight she hadn’t heard about.

  Biting her lower lip, she stared at the door for a beat before deciding she needed one more peek. She unlocked the door and stuck her head out.

  The door at the other end of the hallway opened, only the man who came inside wasn’t Parker.

  It was Tripp Carver. He was over six feet tall, midthirties, and built like he’d once been a football star and had let himself go a little soft.

  But there was nothing soft about his face. His expression was dark and mean. He eyed the row of three metal chairs against the wall between the men’s and women’s restroom, snatched one, and jammed it under the door handle.

  Zoe gasped and he turned to her. A gun had materialized in his hand. “Get over here.”

  Could he see her knees knocking together? She hoped not. “I don’t think so.”

  “Look, I’m not fucking around. I’ve got a scheduled flight in five minutes, and now Parker James is here, breathing down my neck. So you’re my leverage out of here.”

  “Me?” she squeaked, finding her voice. “Why me?”

  “I saw him with his tongue halfway down your throat. You mean something to him. So get your sweet ass over here or I start shooting.”

  Well, hell. Next time Parker said stay, she would absolutely do just that.

  Twenty-six

  Parker had followed Carver down both legs of the hallway and out the side door.

  Nothing.

  He moved around the side of the hangar toward the front and scanned the lot.

  More nothing.

  Hearing running footsteps back the way he came, he followed, retracing his steps, past the door he’d used, where he came face to face with a fence lining the tarmac. No one could have climbed that fence; it had barbed wire across the top and was electrified.

  He moved back to the door leading inside the hangar. The handle readily turned beneath his hand but the door wouldn’t open.

  Something was blocking it from the inside.

  Shit. Whipping around, he went running back toward the lot and the front door, forcing himself to slow to a casual walk as he entered the front reception area of the hangar. There was a small crowd still milling around, a group that had just come in on a private charter. Devon was inside looking for his next charter client, calling out for a . . .

  John Smith.

  The confident asshole Carver had chartered a jet and used the most common alias in the world to do so.

  Parker stopped at Joe, who was at the front computer looking distracted. “Where’s Zoe?”