“To protect you I should step back.” He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip. “But the idea of someone else being with you, touching you is more than I can tolerate.”

Her hand played with the scruff on the tip of his chin. “I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me.”

“What about me?”

“You can touch me as much as you want.” She whispered the response because it felt right to let the words dance softly off her tongue.

After that his mouth dipped and his lips slipped over hers. Heat beat off her body and blood rushed to her head. Sensations walloped her—dizziness, elation. She craved his touch and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

About the Author

Award-winning author HELENKAY DIMON spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, read- ing and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. HelenKay loves hearing from readers, so stop by her website, www.helenkaydimon.com, and say hello.

Ruthless
HelenKay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my husband, James, for believing when

I was ready to give up hope.

Chapter One

Kelsey Moore balanced a tray of croissants and gooey pastries on one arm and counted how many she had left for the end-of-the-morning rush. Ten in the morning was too early to break out the sandwich menu, which meant she had to make the breakfast offerings last for another hour. Hard to do if another round of the fanny pack and matching T-shirt crowd descended.

Not that she was complaining. The summer season had finally hit full swing in Annapolis, Maryland, as the increased number of buses and lack of on-street parking spaces showed. Tourists poured in to visit the quaint shops, check out that Naval Academy a few blocks over and wander down to the City Dock, also known as Ego Alley thanks to the expensive yachts that pulled up there.

Her coffee shop, Decadent Brew, sat in a prime location on Main Street, midway between the waterfront and the Maryland State House. She’d love to take credit for having the foresight to buy the two-story slim town house, but that honor went to her aunt, who ran it as a coffee and knitting shop for years.

Kelsey dropped the yarn part when she inherited it because she could barely sew on a button let alone figure out how to knit or purl. She had added a lunch menu, local art to walls, bookcases and sofas. In a rough economy, the small changes allowed her to survive and build a loyal following over the coffee chains. Not thrive, but pay the bills … usually.

Using tongs, she loaded up the display case with the last two doughnuts and the rest of the chocolate croissants. About half the tables were full, many with patrons more intent on typing on their laptops than actually eating anything. Still, silverware clanked, and the low rumble of conversation mixed with the piped-in music.

The steady beat and cheerful mood suited her. She liked to be busy, liked to see the seats filled, but never lost focus. After two years in business she knew how to keep one eye on the college kid making the lattes—this year his name was Mike—and the other on Lindy, the cute new high school senior who spent more time flirting and tugging on her short skirt than cleaning off the tables.

If Kelsey had a third eye she’d keep it locked on the front door because it was time. He came around this time every day, or he had for the past two weeks.

He’d walk in, his gaze searching for her. The corner of his mouth would lift in that breath-stealing smile and her stomach would do the stupid bouncing thing that made her feel younger than Lindy. Certainly more like fifteen than twenty-six, which she was.

As if thinking about him could conjure him up, the bell above the door chimed. Kelsey glanced up to see him holding the door for a family heading outside. He stood a bit over six feet with the kind of broad shoulders that made women look and then turn and look again. Dirty blond hair and eyes she knew from past encounters edged the border between brown and green.

Between the faded jeans and the trim gray T-shirt, she could easily call up a mental image of his bare stomach without ever having seen it. Something she’d done a little more often than she wanted to admit.

He nodded a welcome to a table of sixty-something women, who rotated between staring at him and whispering to each other. But he saved the wave and that killer smile for Kelsey.

Her hand tightened on the tray to keep from dropping it. “Hey there.”

“Good morning,” he said when he stopped across the counter from her.

“So far. How are you?”

The couple off to his left ran through the exact makeup of a caramel macchiato with Mike, which gave her an extra minute with Paxton. An unusual name but she’d remember his even if it were something easily forgettable, like Bob. A long line a few days ago gave her the excuse to ask his name. Owning the place did have its benefits.

“Not to scare you, but there’s one of those walking tours a few blocks away and headed in this direction.”

She enjoyed the flirting, but she didn’t ignore business. “Let’s hope they’re thirsty.”

“In that case I’m happy I’m here first, before it’s standing room only in here.” He leaned against the counter, because that’s what he always did.

The combination of the slight limp and short hair made her think military, possibly returning from an overseas tour. Living in a navy area tended to take a person’s mind in that direction. Still, he had the muscular build, complete with bulging biceps and a vine tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Military or not, it amounted to a pretty lethal punch to her usual common-sense theory of not mixing business with pleasure.

She tried to think of something clever to say. When nothing came to her, she winced over her complete lack of smoothness and set the tray down. “You want the usual?”

He pointed at the display case. “Add in whatever you have extra of or might have trouble selling today.”

As if she didn’t already have a crush on the guy.

She went to the tap at the coffee-of-the-day dispenser as the bell above the door dinged again. One look around the counter and she realized she’d need a trip to the stockroom because there was only one to-go cup left after the one for Paxton.

A group of kids came in, all shouting as their gazes stayed fixed on their phones. She turned to face the front of the store again to send a quiet-down gaze and spied the two guys hovering behind the noisy kids.

Black suits, dark scowls and a laserlike focus on … well, her. She immediately thought politicians, but the Maryland General Assembly wasn’t in session. That left lawyers or government types. Either way, something about their intensity had her squirming.

Paxton cleared his throat. “You okay?”

Her gaze went back to him. She read concern in his narrowed eyes, heard it in the sudden roughness of his deep voice, and forced a smile to her lips. She hoped it rose to the level of sunny. “Absolutely.”

She snapped the lid on his coffee and snuck a few more peeks at the suited patrons while she scrambled to get Paxton a bear claw. She pretended not to notice as the suit-wearers closed in a step at a time, never saying a word to each other and not bothering to look at the menu board over her head.

She put the plate down on the counter harder than expected in front of Paxton. The smack of ceramic against glass had both Mike and Paxton staring at her. Before she could babble out some excuse, Paxton put a hand over hers. Warmth seeped into her skin.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“I’m fine.” And by that she meant spooked. The two guys hadn’t done or said anything, yet their presence had her swallowing and shifting her weight around.

“We could go out front for second.”

“Really. It’s okay.” She said the words because she wanted the men out, and the only way to have that was to wait on them. They now stood right behind Paxton’s impressive shoulder, and for some reason she wanted them away from him, too.

Still, he hesitated. He balanced his coffee and his wallet. “If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely. And today is on me.” She pushed the plate closer. Before Paxton could argue, she glanced at her unwanted guests. “What can I get the two of you?”

For a second they held on to their silence. Finally, the taller one on the left blinked. “Black coffee to go.”

“Two?” When he frowned at her, she tried again. “I mean, do you each want one?”

Paxton held his position at the counter, and the men didn’t try to shove around him. They didn’t look at him, either, but he stared at them as if he had them under some sort of visual scan.

“One cup only,” the taller man said.

Unusual but not scary. She repeated that mantra as she turned back to the coffeepot and the blank space where the last cup sat a second ago. Another look and she watched Mike top off a latte with foam in the cup she wanted.

She could send him on a restocking run, but with the way her chest tightened she suddenly needed to gulp in as much air as possible. Better to do that away from the patrons. She held up a finger. “I’ll be back in one second.”

Before the men could argue, she took off. She shuffled around and pushed open the door to the narrow hall behind the main dining area marked Private. She kept moving as she passed the door to her office on the right and the stockroom on the left and finally hit the back entry.

Two slams against the safety bar and she had it open. The humid air rolled in, giving her the sensation of standing in front of a low-watt hair dryer.

With her eyes closed she counted to ten and tried to calm her overreaction. This is what happened to her now. Ever since her brother stopped communicating, her mind played vivid and scary games with the benign truth around her. Last night a guy stood on the sidewalk outside her upstairs apartment too long and she immediately assumed he was casing the place. It was as if her life had become a strange action movie.

When she reached ten in her silent countdown, she let out one final dramatic breath. Time to get back to work.

Fearing the air-conditioning would never stop running and her electric bill would soar if she kept the door open, she yanked on it, hearing it creak and moan as she tried to slam it shut. The thing weighed a ton, but she wrestled it closed every single day. Not that she had a choice now. Another minute away from the counter and Mike might sit down with his own laptop and play on the internet instead of work.

She smiled at the idea as she glanced over her shoulder toward the front of the shop. At the end of the hall stood one of the tall unwanted visitors. Seeing him there, in the small space between her and the freedom of the front room wiped out any amusement she’d felt.

She forgot about locking the door and turned to face the unwanted stranger. She said the first thing—the only thing—that popped into her mind. “You can’t be here.”

He closed the distance between them in a few steps. If he reached out he could touch her, but his hands remained at his back. “We’ll be leaving by the door behind you.”

We? Yeah, no way. “Wrong.”

“I’m not playing.” His arm dropped to his side.

She blinked at the gun in his hand and a paralyzing fear streaked through her nerves. “I’ll scream.”

“And put everyone out front in danger? I don’t think so.”

She turned to race out the back door and it burst open, bouncing with a crash and pinning her against the hallway wall. Unwanted visitor number two filled the entrance. She opened her mouth to let out the scream rumbling around in her chest when the man behind her grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth.

She kicked and threw her elbows. Even tried bending forward in the hope of breaking the guy’s hold.

He snapped her back into him, almost lifting her off the floor. “One word and we shoot everyone in the shop.”

When the attacker’s hot breath blew over her cheek, she choked back the bile rising in her throat. Her mind raced as she mentally flipped through her options for saving herself and everyone in her shop.

Yell, run, fight. The most important thing was to not let these guys drag her away. She knew that much from the safety class she’d taken through the police station. But she had to get somewhere other than a claustrophobic back hallway.

To stall, she nodded. Instead of easing, the attacker’s arm wrapped tighter against her neck. Muscle pressed against her windpipe. She clawed against his forearm in a futile attempt to keep him from crushing out her air supply.

The taller one pointed at the back door. “Let’s get her out of here before that kid realizes she’s gone and tries to play hero.”

Mike.

Paxton.

Her brain flashed to images of all of them. To all the innocent people on the other side of the wall. Then her attackers started moving. She dragged her feet and grabbed for a hold in the chipped wall. Fingernails scraped against old paint, but she couldn’t halt his progress.

Inhaling deep and gathering all her strength, she lifted her foot and nailed her attacker in the shin. At the thud of heel on bone, they slammed to a stop. The guy swore as he threw her body against the wall and held her there with his weight against her back.

Her head hit plaster and the world around her tilted. She gasped, trying to drag enough air into her lungs and brain to keep thinking.

The crunch of her nose against the wall sent pain spiraling through her. She turned her head and blinked when the crushing ache of her cheek against the wall threatened to be too much. Her body felt as if it were being ripped apart and smashed into a small ball at the same time.

In the next second, all the pressure vanished. The sudden change had her dazed and sliding to the floor. As her body fell, she saw a flash of gray.

Limp seemingly gone, Paxton moved in a blur. His body honed and aimed like a weapon, he came in the back door fighting. He jammed an elbow into the smaller attacker’s head and knocked him into the wall. The guy went down in a motionless whoosh.

Something whizzed in front of her. She glanced over and saw Paxton standing with his arm out and his furious glare aimed at the taller attacker. She followed the line of Paxton’s body and watched the other attacker scramble, his shoes scuffing against the floor, before he dropped. A red blotch spread on his stomach a second later as his gun dropped and spun across the floor.

Her first look at the knife was of the way it stuck out of the attacker’s body. Even with his eyes closed and his body slumped to the side, he scared the crap out of her.

It all happened so fast and with less sound than if she had been moving boxes around back there. The pulsing tension seeped out of the hallway, but she couldn’t take it all in. Sounds muffled, but she thought she heard someone talking. With her head tilted back, she saw Paxton grab the abandoned gun and point it at the bleeding man before hitting him with the end of it.

Paxton was talking but not looking at her. The words refused to come together in her brain. Finally, he glanced down at her, and the scowl marking his forehead eased. He dropped down to balance on the balls of his feet and winced as he went. The move put them face-to-face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The calm words brushed against her and she answered with the truth. “No.”

His gaze traveled all over her. “Were you hit?”

“I don’t think so.” She closed her eyes to keep the room from spinning, but the reality of where she was had them popping open again. She tried to sit up, hoping her legs would hold her if she somehow wrestled her fatigued body to her feet. “My employees and the people—”

He put his hand on her noninjured knee, and the light touch held her down. “Everyone is fine. They don’t even know anything happened back here.”

The noise. The slamming doors. The grunts and yelling. None of that fit together with his assurance. “How is that possible?”

“I need a team and possibly medical.” He talked to the air.

He kept issuing orders. Something about identities and watching the front. She really focused on him then, letting her gaze wander over the firm chin and across his broad chest. Apparently he threw knives. He had the attacker’s gun plus another one.

In a matter of minutes he’d morphed from cute flirty guy with an injury to scary fighter guy.

“Is the limp real?” She blurted out the question before she could stop it.

“Yes.” He touched his ear. “Now, Joel.”

“Joel?”

Then she saw it. A tiny piece of silver. He had a microphone and was talking to someone who wasn’t actually in the hallway.

Her eyes closed as a wave of nausea rolled over her. She hadn’t dreamed any of it, and all of her fears of walking into the middle of a terrifying gun battle had come true.

That left one very big question.

She opened her eyes and stared at him again. “Who are you really?”

“Same guy you served the coffee to.”

She tried to scoff but she didn’t have the energy or extra breath. “I don’t think so.”

“You should probably call me Pax.” He had the nerve to smile at her as he stood up.

This time she didn’t buy the full mouth or twinkle in his eyes. “You’re not a normal coffee customer.”

“I am, but I’m also something else.”

Dread spilled into her stomach. “What?”

“Your informal bodyguard.”

Chapter Two

From the huge brown eyes to the grim line of her mouth, Kelsey looked about two seconds away from striking out. Maybe screaming her head off. Both options sounded bad to Pax. He wasn’t a fan of throwing up, either, and the sudden green taint to her skin suggested that was a real possibility.

He reached down to help her up, but she shrank back against the wall, her petite frame curling in on itself. In the tucked position, her long hair fell over her shoulders, shielding her face from view and hiding the ripped strap holding her shirt on her shoulder. The denim shorts showed off her lean legs and a red welt right above her knee.

Seeing her injured and scared dropped a black curtain of rage over him. Every cell inside him craved revenge. He seriously considered removing his knife and then plunging it into the bad guy a second time.

But attack mode would have to wait. They had to get out of there, which meant providing a dose of comfort and reassurance. Not two of his strengths, sure, but since joining up with the Corcoran Team he’d been polishing the skills.

These jobs weren’t like the ones he’d worked at his old employer, the Defense Intelligence Agency. There, he’d tracked down military intelligence leaks. He dealt in bad guys, dangerous situations and threats to service members.

In his new life he still went after bad guys, but now his main objective centered on rescuing kidnapping victims. Or even better, stopping kidnapping threats before they happened, something he’d basically failed to do with Kelsey.

“Kelsey, it’s going to be okay.” Pitching his voice low and keeping it as soothing as possible, he said the words even though he knew she was in no condition to hear them.

She glanced at the body on the floor just a few feet away from her thigh and then back to Pax. “How can you say that? Look around you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say or how much to share about his real reason for visiting her shop almost every day for weeks, so he tried to evade. “Admittedly, the attack was a surprise.”

Her eyes narrowed as fire sparked behind them. She added to the angry-warrior-woman stance by brushing her hair off her shoulder and staring him down. “That’s your response?”

So much for thinking she was scared.

She shook her head. “You pretend to be injured—”

“I actually am injured. Well, was.”

“—and you storm in here.”

“By that you mean walked in the front door and ordered coffee, though from your comment I would guess my limp wasn’t as well hidden as I thought.” And didn’t that tick him off.

The cracking sound came the second after she clenched her jaw. “You flew across the hallway a second ago, so stop pretending you’re hurt and tell me who you really are.”

“Maybe we could agree on the term recovering.”

She blew out a long breath as her shoulders slumped. “Are you trying to be annoying?”

In light of her response, Pax wasn’t sure how he should play this. “My brother would tell you that comes naturally. I don’t have to try very hard at it.”

He’d hoped to take her mind off the death choking the air around them by keeping the mood light. Seeing her pressed against the wall a few minutes ago started his mind unraveling. He’d assumed he’d clean up the mess and she’d be grateful. Maybe do the terrified thing and shake and cry, possibly need some consoling.

That was a normal reaction. This was not. She came out swinging. He half expected her to fight off his attempts at calming the situation and punch him in the groin.

Tension continued to zing around the enclosed space. Guns down and his knife still in use in the unidentified man’s stomach, and yet Pax couldn’t let his guard ease. Not when the woman in front of him vibrated with unspent energy and seemed determined to question everything he said.

She didn’t even blink. “So now you have a brother?”

“Technically I’ve always had one since he’s older.” When the mumble of conversation from the front of the shop seeped through the walls and someone banged on the door to this back area asking why it was locked, Pax talked louder to drag her attention back to him. “His name is Davis.”

She waved the comment off. Came very close to knocking against him while she moved her hands around. “I don’t understand who you are or what’s going on. And who are these two guys and why did they try to drag me outside?”

Pax surveyed the carnage. He had to move her off the property before these guys’ friends missed them and came looking for trouble. “All good questions.”

“Care to answer one?”

“Once we’re out of here.” Pax tapped the mic in his ear. “Ben? Finish clearing the shop and close the place down. Blame a gas leak and then get a medic because we have two down. Joel, I need you back here. Now.”

Her sneakers scraped against the rough floor as she bent her knees and brought her feet closer to her butt. “Really?”

Pax wasn’t clear which word led to the reaction. “What?”

“You’re really doing some sort of spy-act thing in the middle of all this?”

He despised that word. The way Hollywood portrayed undercover agents and people in law enforcement as if they all used shoe phones and exploding pens was ridiculous. “It’s possible you watch too much television.”

She sat up even straighter, her shoulders coming off the wall and her hands falling to the floor on each side of her hips. “Okay, Mr. Good Samaritan. How about calling the police … and what do you mean by medic? Call an ambulance. I have customers and employees out front and need to know they’re safe.”

From the clear eyes and stronger voice he guessed she’d found her emotional and physical footing. That likely spelled trouble for him.

“Then there’s the mess back here. That one will wake up eventually.” She pointed at the downed man closest to the back door. “And that one is losing blood thanks to your knife skills.”

Pax hoped she didn’t expect an apology. “Yeah.”

“He’s not dead, is he?

“Unfortunately, no. Unconscious and bleeding.” Pax glanced at the other man. “And that one is lucky not to be bleeding. I’m thinking about stabbing him just because.”

She swallowed and made a face that suggested she didn’t like whatever she’d tasted. “In a few seconds I’ll have to go over there and try to help the bloody one, and the idea of touching him after … well, it makes me want to throw up and kind of furious at you.”

Yeah, she’d definitely moved from scared—and that had been pretty fleeting—to ticked off. As the clear target of whatever thoughts bounced around in her head and put that scowl on her face, he dropped the lighter tone. It wasn’t working anyway. Didn’t take a fancy shoe phone to figure that one out.

He held up his hand in a gesture he hoped telegraphed peace and maybe a touch of surrender. “Everything will be handled, but not in the way you’re suggesting.”

Then it started. She slid her hands closer to her body and shifted in a move so slight he almost missed it. He guessed she intended to struggle to her feet and then make a run for it. He was ready for the bolt. He just wished they could shortcut the disbelief and go right to the part where she got in the car and let him take her to safety.

Not that he deserved that level of trust from her. They barely knew each other. Sure, they’d flirted and he’d benefitted in the form of free bear claws now and then, but doughnuts didn’t change the facts. He was there to watch over her, to see if her missing brother made contact.

It was supposed to be a simple surveillance op, since that’s all anyone at the Corcoran Team thought he could handle post-shooting incident. Little did they know the supposed “easy” job would lead to a backroom shoot-out.

“Don’t even think about it.” When she frowned at him, he filled her in. “Whatever big exit plan is in your head? Forget it. You’re not getting by me. We need to get you somewhere safe, and then we can talk all of this through.”

“We?”

“I think he’s referring to me.” Joel stepped over the man at the back door and moved inside. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder toward the alley outside. “Car’s waiting.”

Pax reached down a second time to get her off the floor. “Come on, Kelsey.”

Her gaze bounced from him to Joel and back again as she crowded closer to the wall. “No way.”

“These guys on the floor could have partners,” Joel said.

Pax welcomed Joel’s verbal assist but could do without the smirk. “I can guarantee that’s true.”

“Why should I trust you? I don’t know you.” She peeked around Pax’s legs at Joel. “Or him.”

When she drew in a deep breath, Pax dropped to his haunches again and bit down on his lip to keep from yelling. Ignoring the shot of pain, he held a hand over her mouth, careful not to get his palm too close to those teeth.

“Don’t do that.” She mumbled something against his hand but he ignored it and kept lecturing. “I know you want to yell for help but screaming could bring more attackers. Do you want that?”

She took several breaths before she shook her head.

Pax inhaled long and deep, trying to see this from her perspective and keep his anger in check. With her family history it was no wonder she went with wariness over fear. He knew only the scraps in her brother’s file about a deceased mother, but the background of Kelsey’s criminal father wasn’t a mystery. His name had seen a lot of time in the papers a few years back. The truth, whatever really went on in this family, could be much worse.

“You see me every day,” Pax pointed out as he stood up again. This time it took longer and more energy. Too many more deep knee bends and he’d crash to the floor.

“As a customer only.”

Joel chuckled. “And she lands a verbal blow. I bet that hurt.”

“You’re not helping,” Pax said under his breath and included a string of profanity to make his point.

Last thing he needed was a real-time reminder of just how attracted he was to Kelsey and how it suddenly seemed to run in only one direction. Especially since she was scowling at him, looking as if she might be planning his funeral.

“Joel, is it?” She shifted her weight and slid her body up the wall. When her knees wobbled, she reached out for Pax, grabbing on to his forearm and steadying her balance again. Her hand dropped a second later.

“Joel Kidd. Yes, ma’am.” The corner of Joel’s mouth kicked up in a smile when she talked to him.

“Call the police.”

The smile fumbled. “I’m afraid I can’t—”

“Do that. Yeah, I get it.” She stepped away from the wall and inched closer to the far end of the hallway. “Paxton … or whatever his name is, said the same thing.”

“My name really is Paxton. I just prefer Pax.”

But she’d stopped listening. She glanced around the floor and took a wide jump over the bleeding attacker’s body. “I’m going to go out front and check on Mike. I might even scream if it looks like it’s clear and you’re the problem instead of the solution.”

Pax grabbed her arm in time. He had her spinning around and standing only a few inches in front of him. At six feet he loomed over her by a good six inches. All those years playing football and the genes from a father he never knew had gifted Pax with broad shoulders.

His size tended to intimidate people. Using the factor to get his way never bothered him before. If it meant saving her, it wouldn’t bother him now, either.

“No.” Enough talk. He started walking toward the back door, taking her with him. He didn’t squeeze or pull, but with his elbow tucked and her body swept in close to his, he had the balance advantage and moving her didn’t take much pressure against her skin.

“Excuse me?”

He kept the lock on her elbow. “I tried this the nice way.”

“When?”

They blew by Joel, who had dropped to the floor to check the pockets of both fallen attackers. “Uh, Pax.”

The tone signaled caution as much as if Joel had thrown up a flashing red light. Pax shortened his stride and stopped a few steps from the back door.

“We are going to walk out there and get into the SUV.” He lowered his voice, forcing the tension to leave his jaw before it cracked from the pressure. “We are going to get out of here and to somewhere safe. Then we can talk all of this out. But, Kelsey—and you need to understand this—we are leaving. No discussion.”

The muscles in her arm went slack. All of a sudden it was easy to glide her across the floor and direct her where he wanted her to go. Pax knew that was a very bad sign.

This lady had the moves down cold—force your body to relax, and the person holding you will ease the grasp. Pax knew because he taught self-defense classes at the YMCA and had advised more than one class of women to avoid ever getting into a car with an attacker.

As the realization hit him, her body jerked. She slammed to a halt and pivoted away from him as she whipped her arm up, shrugging out of his hold. When he reached for her again, she ducked under the arc of his swing. Doubled over and head down in determination, she sprinted.

With his messed-up leg, she could have vaulted and took off and left him sputtering, but her sneaker snagged on the foot of the guy on the ground and she tripped. Her momentum took her flying and stumbling. She crashed against the wall next to the back door and stopped.

He swooped in before she could take off again. “Whoa.”

He trapped her against the wall with his body, ignoring the uneasy sensation rumbling through him from mimicking the actions of the man who had attacked her earlier. Pax slapped his palms against the uneven cement on each side of her head and rested his body against hers, careful to crowd her but not smash into her.

She clearly saw it differently because the second his body touched against hers, she whipped into a wild frenzy. “Not again.”

She kicked out behind her and raked her fingernails against the back of his hand. With her head shaking and shifting, she struggled and grunted. Energy pounded off her as every limb, every muscle, moved in concert against him.

This time, he threw his weight into the hold. He pressed his chest against her back and grabbed her wrists and stretched her arms out to keep them from flailing. Their heavy breathing mixed together as air pounded in his lungs. Beneath him, he could feel the rise and fall of her upper body on rough gasps.

She turned her head to the side and stared at Joel. Until that moment, Pax had forgotten his partner was even there. So much for calling in reinforcements. He could only hope Ben was having an easier time with the crowd out front.

“You could help me,” she said to Joel.

“If it’s any consolation, I plan on telling everyone back at the office about how close you came to getting the jump on Pax.”

Pax swore under his breath. As if the shot to the thigh wasn’t enough cause for ribbing. Now he’d have to hear about this. “Kelsey, listen to me.”

“Why should I?” The harsh words lost their impact under the weak thread of her voice.

“You’re in danger.”

She turned her head and balanced her forehead against the wall. The position cut off all potential of eye contact with Pax and Joel. “Obviously.”

“Not from me.”

“You’re the one who threw the knife. The same guy who’s holding me now.” She shrugged. “You’re hurting me, by the way.”

He eased his stance, shifting his weight to his heels and thinking to move away. Then he stopped. In addition to the sweet face and impressive legs, she was smart and skilled. He wouldn’t put it past her to use guilt to break free.

He tried logic one last time. “There are men after you.”

“Why?”

Pax glanced at Joel. The slight shake of his head mirrored Pax’s feelings on the subject. It was too early and they had too little information on Kelsey to dump the truth on her. They needed to press her for information on her brother. But not here. Certainly not now.

Joel cleared his throat. “That’s what we’re here to figure out.”

“And you two just happened to show up—”

“Three,” Pax said.

“What?”

He didn’t see a reason to hide the team. “Ben’s out front.”

“How comforting.” She wiggled and pushed until he let her turn around. Anger and confusion battled in her eyes. “You understand why I’m confused. You guys all conveniently show up, claiming to be the good guys.”

Pax knew he’d never used those words. “I get it.”

“And?”

She deserved points for good questions and intelligence. The instructor side of him would pass her without trouble. In real life, her discomfort meant danger. And facing him, she had a clear shot at using the first attack move he taught women to use against men, and he had no intention of falling to his knees in pain.

That meant the conversation was over and he would end it. Right now.

“We’re done with this.” Her breath hiccupped and the sharp intake echoed in his ears as he bent over and lifted her off the ground. She landed on his shoulder with her head at his back. “Let’s go.”

Joel shook his head. “Man, this is a bad solution.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

Kelsey stammered and spoke in half sentences. She finally got out a string of words. “What are you doing?”

“Since you want to do this the hard way, we will.”

Then he walked out the back door as she started to scream.

Chapter Three

Kelsey stopped kicking and squirming as her brain rebooted. She looked down and saw his jeans and back, an odd from-above shot of his butt and the ground racing by beneath his feet. Being upside down with his fat-free shoulder digging into her stomach, she didn’t have a good angle to nail him in the back. That was okay. She needed to save her energy and come up with a plan to get off this guy and out of there.

She also had to beat back the wave of disappointment swamping her. The wounded military hero backstory she’d created in her mind and spun into interesting tales didn’t fit the real man at all. She’d secretly declared him a hottie and thought about him far too often once the workday ended and she lay in her bed.

Now she knew she’d picked the wrong description. Something that summed up a bossy, manhandling secretive liar would have been more appropriate.

Paxton or Pax or whatever he wanted to call himself carried weapons and got all grumbly and demanding when he wanted something. The idea she’d once thought of him as sweet and had piled all those free doughnuts on him … she wanted every delicious calorie back. The least he could have done was gain weight because really, she needed something to slow him down.

Even with the slight limp—an injury she now totally viewed as an act—he’d stalked down the alley with only the barest crunch of gravel beneath his shoes to give away his position. The bouncing steps continued as they rounded the car and walked within a few feet of the SUV’s back door.

Once he got her in there, breaking free could be impossible. No way was she going anywhere with two men she didn’t know. She’d taken the lessons and listened to the lectures. She’d already lived through an attack once in her life, years ago.

She would not be a victim again.

She’d be smart, pick the exact right moment and then run in the direction of the nearest person or telephone, screaming her head off as she went.

The door on the opposite side of the car opened. Twisting around on Pax’s shoulder, she looked through the window and spied Joel sliding across the passenger side of the backseat. She could only guess he was her assigned babysitter for their ride to wherever.

Just as she saw the gun in his hand, her butt smacked against the side of the car as Pax balanced her weight. Keys jangled and the world spun around her, the clear blue sky whizzing by, as her feet finally hit the ground.

Pax kept a steady hand on her arm as he reached for the door handle. “We’re done with the nonsense, right?”

Whatever that meant. She nodded, trying to look obedient and terrified, though that last one wasn’t much of a stretch for her limited acting skills. If the blood pounding in her ears and wild flip-flopping of her stomach were any indication, she registered pretty high on the terror scale.

He ducked his head and stared straight into her eyes. “Kelsey?”

“Fine, yes.” She just needed him to shift an inch or two to the side, move a little out of the way, and she was out of there.

With a click, the door opened. He pulled it toward him with slow precision, coaxing her into the small space he created. Inch by inch she crept closer to being penned in and vulnerable.

No way was this happening a second time. The first scarred her, left her sleep tortured and her trust in tatters for years. The seventeen-year-old version of her made a vow never to go back to that dark place, to fight no matter what, and she intended to honor that promise.

Angling her body, she turned to get a better position and set her weight so she could spring off her back leg and race down the alley to the open street beyond. She launched and miscalculated the opening. Her hip banged off the edge of the door.

Red lights danced in front of her eyes and her leg went numb. Then the pain came roaring on, pulsing and knee-buckling in its intensity. Her mouth dropped open to yelp but no sound escaped.

He threw the door open wide and put his hands on the sides of her waist in a gentle touch that somehow managed to hold her upright. Concern showed in his narrowed eyes. “Are you okay?”

“That hurt like a—”

“I bet.”

He touched his fingers against the throbbing spot on the side of her leg. The rubbing eased the burning enough for her concentration to rev up again. She pushed out all sense of comfort and lowered her head, getting him to look down.

With her hands on his arm, she shoved with all her strength and bolted. She heard him swear as his body thudded against the side of the car. But she was gone. She sprinted down the alley, glancing around for any sign of life or a place to duck and hide. The wind whipped around her as footsteps thudded behind her, growing louder with each step.

“Kelsey, stop!” Pax’s husky voice, fueled with fury, bounced off the brick walls, magnifying the sound.

She saw the bright light at the far end of the alley and headed for it. Thirty feet away, half the distance between the SUV and freedom, a shadow moved in. She opened her mouth to scream for help as she heard the skid of stones and felt a muscled arm band around her waist. The smell she associated with Pax—a mix of citrus and pine—fell over her.

She tried to wrestle away from him until she saw the familiar black suit on the stranger at the end of the alley. And the gun he held in his hand.

“Get down.” The heat of Pax’s body enveloped her the second before his words sank in.

The air rushed out of her and her footing failed. Pax’s legs tangled with hers as his body wrapped around hers from behind. His weight pummeled into her and they both dropped through the air. She raised her hands and closed her eyes, waiting for her face to smack against the hard pavement and hoping her fingers could somehow minimize the painful blow.

Noise thundered around her until she couldn’t tell the sounds of her screaming from the other shouts filling the air. Her legs took flight behind her. One minute she saw the ground racing up and the next they twisted and she landed with a hard smack against Pax’s chest. He grunted and swore as his hand curled around her head and his body absorbed most of the impact.

They’d barely landed when he rolled and tucked her under him. In a continuous move, he came up over top of her and swung out his arm. One, two bangs boomed above her. She smelled a faint scent of burning and heard people yelling at the end of the alley for someone to call 911.

Pax’s hand dropped and his body grew limp, pressing deeper against her. “Got him,” he whispered.

In her head the whole scene took an hour, but she guessed it was less than a minute in real time. She let her head drop against the ground as she watched a puff of white cloud shift as it skimmed the blue sky. It took another second for her breathing to return to normal and her heart to stop knocking against the inside wall of her chest.

Her head fell to the side and she glanced back at the SUV. Joel lay stretched out on the seat with his hands still fixed on the gun with the weapon aimed. That fast, she remembered the suited man, and her gaze flipped back to the opening to the street where people now gathered. A man was down with a gun visible by his hand.

When she looked up again, Pax loomed over her, staring down. “I had to.”

She tried to raise her hand and put her palm against his cheek, but her arms suddenly weighed a ton each. “You shot him.”

Pax winced as if she’d struck him. “He was going for you.”

She didn’t understand the look of pain in his eyes. Who he really was and why he’d walked into her life were still parts of a greater mystery, but this time she didn’t doubt his protection.

Maybe it was intuition or adrenaline, or just the shock of so much violence on the quaint streets of Annapolis. “Right.”

His eyes narrowed as he struggled to sit up and help her do the same. “This is about your brother.”

“I … wait, what?” Of all the things she expected him to say, that wasn’t even on the list. “What are you talking about?”

“Your brother ticked off the wrong people and now someone wants to bring you in to flush Sean out.”

The words pelted her. They scrambled and unscrambled, but she couldn’t put them together in any logical way in her brain.

“Talk later. We need to get out of here.” A shadow fell over them. Joel bent over with his hands on his knees. His voice wobbled a bit on each word. “Ben’s handling things out front, but the police are coming and we need to be gone.”

She nodded because she had no idea what to say. This, like so much in her life, was about the men in it. First her dad, now Sean. Their choices. Their actions.

Pax grimaced as he stood up and stretched his legs. When he reached down to her, this time she grabbed his hand and jumped to her feet. Standing in front of him, her fingers speared through his, an odd calm blanketed her. They weren’t out of danger and none of what had happened made sense, but for the first time since Pax walked through her door this morning, a sense of safety radiated through her.

He gave her hand a squeeze. “No more running.”

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid. You always go with the guy who saved your life.”

“Smart woman.”

But she wasn’t ready to turn to mush and follow every order he threw out. “I want answers.”

“Then get in the car.”

BRYCE KINGSTON BALANCED his palms against the sill and looked out his office window. His fingers tapped against the glass as he watched the steady lines of traffic move in each direction and with amazing slowness on the highway sixteen floors below.

After a quick glance at his watch, he shook his head with a harsh laugh. Never mind the hour of the day, barely lunchtime and nowhere near rush hour. The close-in proximity of Tysons Corner, Virginia, to Washington, D.C., meant cars idled and passengers baked in the burning sun and claustrophobic humidity as they tried to go anywhere in the summer heat.

The high-rise space, with its soaring windows and plush carpet, telegraphed the business image he wanted. The granite lobby and bank of security monitors, all designed by him with a team of high-priced architects, created the desired public impression of safety and wealth. He didn’t have a fancy water view or the prime location near the Kennedy Center, but he had the end of the cul-de-sac spot in a business park within a reasonable drive of the airport.

Then there was the real-estate advantage in terms of the clients, and that’s all that mattered to him as the founder of Kingston Inc. One division provided high-speed communication services to the government, ensuring continuous service and functioning networks.

But the new division would be the key to the company’s future. He was sure of it. The high-tech division dealt with top-secret electronic surveillance and assisted the intelligence community and military in collecting and relaying information.

Not bad for a guy who spent most of his youth getting beat up on the school bus for spending so much time in computer class.

After a few years of leaner times and financial insecurities, the business plan was back on track. Well, not all of it. Sean Moore proved to be a wild card. Bryce never expected a low-level computer programmer to sit at the heart of potential corporate-ruining disaster.

“Sir?” Bryce’s assistant, Glenn Harber, stuck his head in the small space he made when he opened the door.

Bryce didn’t hear the knock, but he knew Glenn didn’t skip that requirement. Tall and lean and still an expert rower and member of a team of young businessmen who met on the Potomac River well before dawn twice per week, Glenn knew about structure. He was not a man who shortcut the rules or invaded privacy without a care.

Four years out of business school and loaded down with two master’s degrees and a host of other useless academic information, Glenn had demonstrated his commitment to the company. He came in early and left late. He often flew on the corporate jet for meetings and visits to military bases for demonstrations. And right now he looked as if he’d eaten a heaping plate of rotten conference food.

“Come in.” Bryce pushed away from the window and sat down in his overstuffed desk chair.

The wife had chosen the décor. To Bryce, the dark furniture, set off with patriotic photos and framed flags, bordered on too much. He didn’t think he needed to wear his commitment to country with such obvious fervor, but Selene disagreed.

It was part of her campaign to remind him just how much of her family’s Old South money she’d invested in Kingston and how significant her personal stake really was. From the boys in their private high school to the family’s sprawling three-story Georgian-style home in nearby Great Falls, she played the role.

He despised the personal part. Let him stay at the office, away from the ridiculous chatter and incessant arguing over things like limits on the boys’ television watching and picking the “right” school activities, and his satisfaction level remained high.

Except for Sean Moore.

Glenn stepped up to the opposite side of the oversized desk. “We were unable to reach Sean’s sister in Annapolis as hoped. She wasn’t at her shop.”

Bryce glanced at his watch a second time, even though he was very aware of the hour. “This should be the one time of the day she’s there.”

The businessman in him balked at the idea of an owner walking away at the busiest part of the workday. Summer in Annapolis meant tourists and profits. She ran a small business. She’d have to be insane to leave her shop during peak hours.

Glenn nodded. “I agree.”

Bryce turned his pen end over end, tapping it against the desktop with each pass. “Then tell me why her shop is closed.”

“The police surrounded the place.”

His pen hung there, stopped in midair, when he heard the exact comment he dreaded. “Someone called the police?”

“Yes.”

The last thing he needed was outside interference. “Find out who and while you’re at it, find her.”

Glenn swallowed hard enough for his throat to bobble. “Right.”

“We find her, we find her idiot brother.”

“And then?”

Bryce knew the next step. He didn’t have the benefit of growing up in an expensive neighborhood lined with trees and home to rounds of nannies, which in this case would have been a detriment anyway. The Baltimore docks had taught him a thing or two about life.

“I’ll handle Sean Moore.”

Chapter Four

Fifteen minutes later, Pax created a false trail. He doubled back and looped around, using skills he learned long before reaching adulthood, when he’d been trying to hide from Davis after curfew and downing more beer than his dimwitted teen brain could handle. With the road behind him clear except for the usual summer traffic, Pax eased his death grip on the steering wheel and let his shoulders slump back into the seat.

He eyed up Joel and Kelsey in the backseat of the SUV. They sat on opposite sides of the vehicle, with Kelsey pressed tight against the door, her head resting on the glass.

Pax, usually comfortable with silence, felt the need to say something. “I’m hoping this next part of the plan goes better.”

Joel smiled but his attention never wavered from his scan outside the window. “We have a plan?”

“Not exactly what I wanted to hear,” she mumbled.

Pax eased his foot off the gas and tapped the brakes so he could make the steep turn into the driveway behind the Corcoran Team property. The bounce under the wheels had his leg shifting and his back teeth grinding together.

The ride through slim streets, historical and perfect for the charming look of the tourist town, made the trip bumpy. The constant lookout for following cars kept his focus off the road just long enough for him to hit every stupid pothole between Kelsey’s shop and the team headquarters.

She rested a hand against the window. “This looks like a house, not a workplace.”

Pax understood the confusion. On top of the emotional roller coaster, he drove her deeper into the heart of the historic section of Annapolis and straight up to a house sitting amid tall trees. It was a federal-style standalone and a bit imposing the way it soared three stories into the air, except for a small portion, about a third, of the top floor that functioned as an open porch area—which they never used because the site would leave them too exposed.

“Don’t worry,” Joel said. “It’s a home on the top and office on the bottom.”

Pax was done talking and ready to find a bottle of painkillers. “Let’s go.”

He slammed the car into Park the second he pulled into one of the open garage bays at the back of the office property. He had the door open and jumped down, hoping to walk off the big band thumping in his thigh.

The small white stones that paved the space between the separate garage and the redbrick building crunched under his shoes and further threw off his balance. Much more of this and he’d be back on crutches, and he vowed to burn those as soon as he found out where Lara had hidden them.

Lara Bart Weeks, his brand-new sister-in-law and the absolute best thing ever to happen to his big brother, Davis. He was two years older and even now off enjoying the end of his honeymoon while Pax handled the coffeehouse mess.

Not that this job was supposed to blow.

Pax had been ordered to desk duty until his leg healed. The only reason the boss let Pax handle the assignment was he threatened to shoot out the surveillance screens in the office if he had to sit there and do paperwork for one more minute. That led to a low-risk operation, a stakeout of the coffee shop. Just sitting and eating doughnuts.

In some ways, it was an easy stakeout because no one expected Sean to seek out his sister. Nothing in their relationship suggested he would, not when he was deeply mired in trouble. And boy was he. But Sean had surprised them all.

They’d gotten halfway across the open space of the yard when Connor Bowen slipped out the back door of the house and stood on the small porch, just under the overhang. He wore black dress pants and a long-sleeve blue dress shirt, and managed to blend in despite being totally out of place in the relaxed summer environment.

But that’s who he was. After years in the field doing work and traveling to places Pax could only guess about, Connor craved air-conditioning and a desk.

“So much for the idea of resting the leg,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared Pax down. Being only seven years older didn’t keep Connor from looking every inch the in-charge boss man.

Kelsey stopped biting her lower lip and came to a halt in the clearing. Her arm shot out and she grabbed Pax’s. “You really are injured?”

Connor’s eyebrow lifted. “You can’t tell?”

Joel snorted as he passed them all by and went straight to the back door. “I need food and the bathroom, and not in that order.”

“Knock yourself out.” Connor shifted to the side to let Joel pass, but then he restaked his ground. Legs braced, arms folded and hovering by the door as if to say anyone who went in had to go through him first.

Pax got secrecy and understood the operation, but they were blown. There was no way to salvage this assignment as set up and feed Kelsey some line about being legitimate agents who just happened to stumble into her coffee shop in time to rescue her.

Pax doubted any sane woman would buy the story, and he knew Kelsey was far too smart to go there. Combine that with her survival instinct, which appeared to tick in the expert range, and their options for handling this in a quick and easy manner decreased significantly.

She put her hand above her eyes and squinted against the sun as she looked Connor over. “Who are you … or am I not allowed to know that, either?”

“I take it from that response things didn’t go well this morning.”

Pax hid his smile. Connor knew exactly how the mess unfolded at Decadent Brew. He was tied in to the communications link, ran the unexpected removal of Kelsey from back in his office while watching his bank of monitors, and by now had placed the right calls and talked to the right people to keep the Corcoran Team’s name out of this and ensure the gas leak story led the news.

That was the job. He was the handler. The guy who made it all possible behind the scenes.

“Connor Bowen, my boss.” Pax put a hand low on her back, thinking to steer her inside. There was no need to stand out in the open and invite gawking.

She didn’t move. “And what exactly is your job again? All of you, any of you, any response would be welcome.”

Connor opened the back door. He threw out an arm and motioned toward the house. “We’ll explain inside.”

She hummed. The tune was quiet, almost as if it kicked on as her brain began to spin, but Pax could hear it. As a fellow under-the-breath singer, he recognized the almost imperceptible sound. And he’d heard it from her before when she made intricate coffee drinks for other customers while he waited in line for his.

He didn’t know what her humming meant or why she did it, but the idea of having some extra time with her to figure it out … well, he didn’t hate the idea.

Before he could push or try another attempt at issuing an order he knew she’d ignore, neither of which he wanted to do with her in this tenuous state and Connor standing right there watching, she moved. She hesitated before stepping inside, stopping to stare at the out-of-place dark square on the wall next to the back door.

A retinal scan and a handprint reader. Admittedly not the usual office setup, but he doubted she knew what she was looking at and since Connor had clearly disabled it remotely when he stepped outside, Pax didn’t have to give a demonstration now.

She pointed at the pad. “More secrets, I guess?”

The woman didn’t miss much. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Not so far.”

KELSEY TRIED TO take it all in. She’d expected a fancy high-tech room filled with gadgets. She got an open kitchen, complete with blue cabinets and a huge farm sink. No food on the counters, unless you counted the two half-empty chip bags.

The really strange thing was the overabundance of coffeemakers. Not fancy ones. Normal coffeemakers … all four of them. The sight made her wonder how many people worked here, if any were women and if they ever ate regular meals. It also made the shop owner part of her think they should pay for her to provide better beverages.

A swinging door led to a wide-open space. A double room, probably what should be a combination living and dining room, but in this case housed desks and computers in individual work spaces. Closed cabinets with locks lined the far wall, and a conference room table sat in the middle of everything.

Everywhere she looked she saw television monitors, some big and some small. One looked as if it piggybacked traffic cams, with images flickering from intersection to intersection. Another showed a front door, she guessed to this address.

On the one across the room … wait.

She headed for Joel. He sat slumped in a chair, running his hand through his dark hair, with his feet on the countertop and a mug of something she guessed was coffee in his hand. Peeking over his shoulder, she watched people scurry around out front of Decadent Brew, the place where she worked and lived and worried about losing almost every day.

A couple tested the doors and then stared at the sign with the posted hours. Being closed, knowing what the loss of income and product could cost her later, had a lump clogging Kelsey’s throat. Heaviness tugged at her muscles, and she had to fight the urge to sit down.

Everything she owned, all she was, centered on that building. The dark, strangely spooky building. The lights were off and something—she leaned in closer and studied the scene, maybe drapes of some sort—covered the windows.

She spun around and met Pax’s emotionless gaze. “Is this your doing?”

“Mine, actually.” Connor walked in, carrying a pot of coffee. He set it in the middle of the table on a tray surrounded by unused mugs.

It was all so normal yet so wrong.

“Where is everybody?” Pax dropped into a chair and blew out a long breath. He stretched his right leg out in front of him as he massaged his thigh.

She wasn’t sure what caused the injury, but she believed it existed. She was about to ask him about it when she sensed a gaze on her. A quick glance at Connor and she caught the small shake of his head.

“Davis is enjoying his final days in Hawaii, as you know. The rest of the group is cleaning up the mess in Catalina, except for Ben,” Connor said as he poured her a cup of coffee. “Ben is on his way to the hospital to check on your injured attacker. I’ll head out in a second. Sounds like I have a very angry investigator to calm down and a few explanations I need to give.”

Pax slumped down farther in the black leather chair. “I don’t ever want your job.”

Without turning around, Joel saluted with his cup. “Yeah, no envy over here, either.”

The information collected and piled, and Kelsey tried to mentally flip through and analyze it all. The really tall, dark and businesslike one was in charge. If this Connor guy wasn’t the overall boss, he should be because he acted like it and his six-foot-three-or-four height suggested no one mess with him.

The younger, black-haired, scruffy-chinned one, Joel, seemed to be connected to the monitor. There was a brother named Davis roaming around out there somewhere, some guy named Ben and a group of people, she had no idea how many, in California.

It was a lot to take in.

She grabbed on to the back of Pax’s chair while a wave of dizziness crashed over her. With everything that happened during the past hour or so and the rapid-fire confusion bombarding her brain, she was fading. Fatigue crept into her muscles, and the coffee in four pots might not be enough to keep her on her feet and functioning.

As if he read her mind, Connor poured another cup, skipped the sugar and extras, and downed it black. “I’ll get this worked out and then we can figure out our next steps.”

The words snapped her out of the haze that had started washing through her. The conversation replayed and she wondered if they even knew they talked in code. “And the this in that sentence would be what?”

She was treated to three blank stares and a sudden abundance of quiet. Even Pax did a twisty-turny thing to look up and give her eye contact, but no one said a thing. A wall clock ticked somewhere and garbled noises came from the earphones Joel now had around his neck.

If she’d known such a simple question would get their joint attention, she’d have asked one an hour ago.

Connor was the first to move. He sat across from Pax and on the other side of the table from her. “The scene at your store.”

“Is everyone okay?” Pax asked.

“All the good guys are.”

The men were off and running again on a topic other than the one she’d introduced. They offered a snippet of information, failed to explain anything and then moved on. She never knew how annoying that was until now.

She raised a finger, but that did nothing for the balls of anxiety bouncing around inside her stomach. “Um, excuse me?”

Connor smiled. He flashed his soft blues eyes and shot her the I’m-listening stare Pax tended to use on her. Clearly whatever group all these guys worked for taught the same facial expressions in a Pacify-the-Ladies class.

“Your customers and employees are fine,” Connor said. “They think there was a gas leak as cover for a burglary at another store, and you got caught up in it but are fine.”

Even though she heard that sort of thing on the news every night, it sounded ridiculous when applied to her life. Anyone who knew her would expect her store to stay open, or at least for her to be out on the street giving away the unused inventory. Not that all that many people knew her, not with her work hours.

But she didn’t purposely hide in her house. Not anymore.

“Who told people that story?” she asked.

“Me.”

She had a feeling Connor would be the one to pipe up with an answer. “Because that’s your job?”

Pax laid a hand on her closed fist and brought her around to the side of his chair. “Have you seen Sean in the past few weeks?”

She ripped her fingers out of Pax’s hand. As they all continued the male staring ring, her knees went soft and the ground beneath her moved in a rolling wave. Her brain tried to shut out any reference to her brother. At twenty-three he was three years younger and had spent more time than she could count in trouble.

She swallowed and cleared her throat, but the words would not come. It took a good minute before she could force out a question. “You mentioned him before. What exactly do you know about Sean?”

Pax didn’t flinch. Didn’t bother to look guilty or worried. He just sat there rubbing his leg. “Everything.”

“How?”

He made a noise, something dismissive and all male. “Not important.”

She slapped a palm on the conference table and watched his gaze move to it before bouncing back to her face.

She wasn’t trying to make noise. All she wanted was to hold her body upright. “It is to me.”

“Kelsey?”

Connor said her name, but she refused to look at him. She wanted Pax to tell her, to come clean and finally let her know what was happening and who he really was. “No.”

A thundering silence returned to the room. This time even the clock stayed silent.

That was fine with her. Balanced on the table, she could stand there all day. She would if that’s what it took to make her point.

After another moment of ticking tension, Pax exhaled in that women-are-so-tiresome way men did when pushed to talk about something they wanted to ignore. “That’s a shame. Finding him sooner rather than later would be safer for you.”

Yeah, he still didn’t get it. “I mean, no, we’re not going to play it this way.”

“Excuse me?” Pax’s eyebrow ticked up and the last signs of the charming guy with the love of black coffee disappeared.

“You know about me, and apparently my brother, and I don’t even want to know what else. Until I understand what’s happening and where you all fit in, I’m not saying another thing.”

“There’s a limit on what we can divulge,” Joel said from the relative safety of the other side of the room.

As if she was going to accept that nonsense excuse. “Then take me to the police. I’m sure they’ll want to question me about this supposed theft you made up.”

Pax’s cheeks rushed with color and his fingers dug deeper into the arms of his chair. “No, they don’t.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

The finger lock on his chair didn’t ease. “We were hired to watch over you.”

“By whom?”

Connor was already shaking his head. “We can’t tell you that, but we can say we’re the good guys and we’re here to keep you safe.”

“Because you would tell me if you were the bad guys?”

Joel chuckled. “We should check her injuries and Pax’s, maybe get her a change of clothes and some food.”

“I don’t need—”

“Good idea.” Pax struggled to his feet.

When his body started to fall again, she put an arm around his waist and held him up. A backache settled in a second later as she wrenched her muscles and locked her knees and arms to support him. He braced his hands against the table and leaned on her.

She looked up, thinking to ask Connor for help, and saw the strain across his face. More than that, worry. These men might work together, but their bond went deeper. She wanted to curse them all for making this situation so hard on her. They expected her blind faith and gave nothing in return.

She thought about it another second and decided that wasn’t true. They gave her protection, but she still wasn’t clear on why she needed it.

If Pax had just stood up without trouble or had the courtesy to stay seated, she would have kept fighting him. Thanks to the mention of her injuries, every muscle and cell inside her started to ache. Talk about the power of suggestion.

But the real problem was Pax.

Her gaze traveled over him. Over the way he kept weight off his right leg and the cut along his cheek. If the clenched jaw were any indication, he was in pain. She was confused and angry, but the guy who stormed in to save her, protected her from a crushing fall and killed for her looked unsteady on his feet and ready to drop.

It was the wake-up call she didn’t want but couldn’t ignore. She swallowed back the rest of her questions and fell deep into appreciation mode. She didn’t know him but she owed him.

She faced Connor and skipped over the stuff she wanted to know to the stray comment that caught her attention. “You have women’s clothes here?”

His white-knuckle grip on the edge of the table tightened. “My wife’s.”

Now, there was a bit of news she didn’t see coming that sent her gaze zipping to the thin band on Connor’s finger. “Where is she?”

“Out of town.”

Yet another person not there. That appeared to be the norm around this house … or office … or whatever it was. “Fine. If someone checks Pax’s injuries, I’ll clean up, then you can all decide that I deserve to know more and start talking.”

Pax snorted. “Wrong.”

Before that minute she’d forgotten she held on to him. She gave his waist a reassuring squeeze and then dropped her arm. “That’s the only solution I’ll accept.”

Joel glanced at Connor. “Told you.”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

They’d lost her in all the partial sentences. “What are you two talking about?”

Joel shot her a huge smile as he stood up. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of Pax.”

“You’re qualified?”

If possible that smile grew even wider. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I don’t agree to the schedule.” Pax practically snarled when he said the words.

Tough.

This time Connor stood. Something about the way he moved had all eyes focused on him. “I do. The lady is—”

“Kelsey,” she said.

Connor gave her a nod. “Kelsey is right. Pax gets treatment, she gets changed and a once-over for injuries, and we meet back here in thirty. No arguments.”

Pax pushed off the table and stood up straight. His large frame wobbled but he didn’t fall this time. He didn’t match his friends’ smiles with one of his own, either.

When he looked at her, his mouth had fallen into a flat line. “One thing you should know.”

Dread tumbled through her. “What?”

“We control all the doors and windows, so there’s no way for you to escape once you’re up there.”

Honestly, the man was clueless. She’d turned that corner when a third attacker showed up and a bullet whizzed by her head. “Why would you think I would try?”

“Experience.”

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