Rules in Blackmail by Nichole Severn

Author:Nichole Severn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-04-11T19:13:13+00:00

Chapter Nine

Another Fine Navy Day.

Or, in other words, not so much.

Sullivan rolled his head back, stretching the stiff muscles in his neck. The second trip to the cabin hadn’t been nearly as exciting as the first. Of course, had Jane been his target, he would’ve struck while she lay unconscious in the hospital. But Menas had to be licking some wounds right about now. His attention drifted to the closed bedroom door. Jane had taken the single bedroom in order to clean up and rest, but he couldn’t sleep.

Not with an entire group of mercenaries coming after her.

The stitches in his upper arm stretched as he pushed himself off the couch for yet another perimeter check. He wasn’t taking any chances this time. The investigation had gone from gathering intel on a tow truck operator who couldn’t let the past die to defending Jane against an armored attack. Sullivan parted the blinds hanging in the front window, his favorite Glock in hand. The gun wasn’t his only line of defense this time. He’d made sure Anthony had visited over the last few days to turn the cabin from his getaway spot to a fortified bunker. If Menas and his band of mercenaries came within a hundred yards of the cabin, Sullivan would know.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Her husky voice straightened his spine. Those hazel eyes brightened as Sullivan looked her over in the overlarge T-shirt and sweatpants he’d lent her from his dresser drawers. His private investigator had dropped off a duffel bag of clothing and shoes for her but had somehow “forgotten” Jane’s sleepwear. Her long fingers stretched around the mug of coffee he’d made her when they’d first arrived. She was the epitome of perfection—more beautiful than he’d imagined—and his mouth went dry. “Me neither.”

Sullivan cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts and I’m dying.” A rush of laughter burst from her chest, but she grabbed for her bruised jaw. The swelling had gone down, but the pain obviously hadn’t subsided just yet. Even so, her smile warmed parts of Sullivan he’d almost forgotten existed. Flashes of threading his fingers through her hair, of bringing that delectable mouth to his, streaked through his mind. “But I can’t complain too much. I’m alive, right?”

Thank heaven for that. “It wouldn’t bother me if you did.” Sullivan replaced the gun in his shoulder holster and rested his hands at his sides. “You’ve been through a lot the past few days.”

“We both have.” Setting the mug on the countertop to her left, Jane tucked her short hair behind her ears. Her lean frame drowned in his clothes, but something deep inside him wouldn’t dream of dressing her in anything else. Because as he’d watched Menas haul her toward that chopper, he’d realized just how far he was willing to go to keep her safe. She’d gone up against a mercenary alone. And survived. How many of Christopher Menas’s victims could say the same?

“Sullivan, listen.” One hand leveraged on the counter, the other on her hip, Jane rolled her lips into her mouth, a tell, he’d noted, of when she was nervous.

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