Blaine, Destiny - Breakfast by the Sea (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  “You think I don’t realize this?”

  “There’s a difference between me and Jeff. Hell, there’s a difference between everyone on this team and Jeff.

  “We kill for a living. Jeff kills for sport. We kill to eliminate evil and corruption. When Jeff pulls the trigger it’s because the enforcer within him dictates every decision he makes.”

  Paige felt her nerve endings scatter. “That’s not the only concern you have, is it?”

  Connor’s eyes hazed over. He parted his lips and lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers. “I know you think you can handle him. Don’t make that mistake. He will follow Adam’s advice, but in order for him to do that, you have to listen to him.”

  “I will. I give you my word.”

  “Paige.” Connor paused, wrapped his arms tighter around her torso, and breathed her in, making it obvious that he was indulging in her scent. “I want to get to know you better. When this is over, give me that chance, okay?”

  “Connor, I’m not who you think I am.”

  “I don’t care. You need to hear what I’m saying.”

  “I paid attention,” she said softly.

  Connor moistened his lips. “I won’t mention what I’ve seen here to Adam, but I have to tell Jeff.”

  “I wouldn’t expect any different.”

  “Take care of yourself out there.”

  He wanted to kiss her. She could see the hunger in his eyes. Well, to hell with that.

  “No kiss goodbye?” she teased, swaying by him with as much movement in her hips as she could muster carrying a bag loaded down with weapons.

  “Did you expect one?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But I’ve wanted a lot of things since you arrived here, and so far most of you have failed to follow through.”

  Connor didn’t trail after her. He stayed planted where he was. “If you want that kiss, Paige, you come back over here and take it.”

  Paige’s heart rate changed in an instant. The guttural way he called for her made her skin heat. Since the first day they’d arrived, Connor was the one who’d grabbed her attention from the start. He had a naughty-boy approach, a way about him that guaranteed a woman discovered a lot of pleasure in his bed. But that scared her.

  Connor and Jeff were a lot alike, and she found herself equally drawn to them. All five men were attractive, but Jeff and Connor? They represented the real challenges, and Paige never turned her head in a face-off.

  Placing the bag on the floor one final time, she took a deep breath. Then, she stalked him. Connor waited like he might stand and wait forever.

  When she stood mere inches from him, he turned around, snapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her like he’d been thirsty for their kiss since the day they’d first met. His lips captured hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, securing a right to exist there.

  Their tongues played together, seizing the opportunity to seal a more heated kiss. “God, woman, I’ve wanted to do this for far too long,” Connor whispered, breaking their connection.

  “Don’t talk,” she said breathlessly, determined to forget she was in a cellar all alone with a man, trying not to panic because intimate situations fueled emotions she wasn’t prepared to handle.

  She could do this. She had to do this. Connor was safe, patient. Jeff wouldn’t be.

  Her fingernails dug into Connor’s scalp, and she drew him closer. She caught his tongue between her teeth and teased. Her tongue swiped against the tip of his, and he moaned.

  Connor dropped his hands to her ass, cupped her cheeks, and drew her against him, grinding his erection against her heated center. His hands wandered. Hers clutched his belt. His trailed up and down her back, toying with her bra clasp as if he expected her to make him stop. Hers secured a tighter grip.

  “Connor! Are you down there?”

  And just like that, their moment ended.

  * * * *

  “Your timing sucks, you son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Damn, I hope so,” Jeff huffed, grabbing Paige’s heavy luggage. “What have we here?”

  They made eye contact, but she explained nothing about the contents. Paige was a smart woman, and Jeff liked to have plenty of tools to work his trade. She would provide what he needed, in more ways than one.

  Connor pouted. Jeff couldn’t blame him. The heated look of lust still lingered in Paige’s eyes. Connor and Paige shared that disheveled appearance with wrinkled clothes and tousled hair. Lipstick stains marked Connor’s light pink shirt collar.

  “Must’ve been hot down there,” Jeff teased, strutting across the foyer.

  “You have no idea.” Connor taunted. “Jealous yet?”

  “Hell, no. I’m spending the night with her.”

  “Give the digs a rest,” Connor grumbled.

  “Not a chance. When I park this priceless treasure,” Jeff said, grabbing and shaking his denim-covered penis, “I’m working this thing for all it’s worth.”

  “Then at least I’ll have the last laugh,” Connor retorted. “’Cause from what I hear, it ain’t all that.”

  “And who would you have talked to, exactly?” Paige asked, laughing. “From what I hear, not only does he punch and go, but he leaves no witnesses to talk about him later.”

  “Sounds about right,” Connor agreed. “She’s got your number, Jeff.”

  “And I’ve got hers,” Jeff assured him, thinking he couldn’t wait to see her arching for him, taking his cock like a champ and begging for mercy.

  Paige stormed by them. Jeff watched her work her walk and wished to hell and back he didn’t find her so doggone attractive.

  “You hurt her and I may have to kill you.”

  Jeff smacked Connor’s cheek in a playful pat. “Gotcha by the balls, does she?”

  “I’m serious, Jeff.”

  Adam joined them on the porch. “Problem, men?”

  “No,” Jeff said at the same time Connor blurted out a “yes.”

  “What’s the problem, Connor?”

  “Ask him.”

  “Let’s discuss this before the envy gets out of hand,” Adam suggested.

  Jeff exchanged glances with Connor. Sure enough he didn’t hesitate to protest. “He is not the man to send in with her!”

  “I’m not changing my mind,” Adam told him sternly.

  “Pitching a fit won’t do anything except get your blood pressure up, Connor.” Jeff paused. “Oh, that’s right, Paige already did that for you down there in the cellar, didn’t she? Maybe that’s why you’re all revved up. Didn’t get to lay her down first, and you’re a little upset ’cause you know who will.”

  “That’s enough, Jeff,” Adam warned.

  “Not yet it isn’t,” Jeff snapped, immediately turning to address Connor. “Listen, just because you kissed her first doesn’t mean you get in there first every time. When she comes back here, don’t ask, don’t wonder…know. I’ll have her in my bed tonight. And I’ll keep her begging for it until this job is over.”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” Adam demanded.

  Jeff narrowed his eyes and waited on Connor’s reply.

  “If you hurt her…”

  “For the last fucking time. I don’t want to hurt her!”

  Paige slammed the car door.

  “Get out of here,” Adam said, tilting his head toward Paige. “Touch base when you’re settled.”

  Jeff stepped off the porch and strolled toward the car. He heard Connor behind him so he stopped and waited. Man, oh man, Connor was putting on some kind of show. Jeff wondered if women liked this sort of thing.

  Connor grabbed his arm. “Don’t kill her, man. I really care about her.”

  Jeff focused on the wooded area beside the driveway. Anyone could hide out there. Someone could be watching them and ambush them whenever they felt like starting a war. Connor wouldn’t see them coming. Hell, he probably wouldn’t notice anyone either. They were both too focused on one woman.

  “If I had wanted her d
ead, I would’ve disposed of her this morning when she made me run four miles to catch her. Then, when she plunged into that freezing water headfirst, I swear, I could’ve strangled her.”

  “Then why didn’t ya?” Connor asked.

  “Because maybe you aren’t the only one here who cares about her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ramone Carpasia sat in his private suite watching television and stuffing bread in between his lips. “Food here’s good,” he said, watching Trony sip on a glass of whiskey. “You should eat something.”

  “What are you, my mother?”

  Ramone glared at the man who had served him as his personal bodyguard for more than a decade. Once a loyal partner in the many crimes Ramone committed, Trony had recently become argumentative, almost aggressive.

  Ramone was sick and tired of his attitude. Trony voiced too many opinions and his demands were starting to grate on Ramone’s nerves. If anyone should’ve been fed up with their current state of affairs, Ramone owned plenty of reasons. Trony had continually nagged him about Ramona, and in the end, Ramone had decided Ramona was a liability. He already regretted the decision.

  Ramone’s men looked at him differently. They should. Ramona had been his woman, his wife. She’d loved him. She’d gone to her death loving him. She’d even professed her everlasting endearments as he bludgeoned her to death. Hell and damnation, he was a sick and twisted man.

  Ramone pushed away the basket of bread and ignored the rare steak and overstuffed baked potato on his dinner plate. He needed rest. He didn’t need to increase the size of his waistline.

  “Wake me in an hour,” he ordered. “I need to see Paige.” He could use some good sex, and Paige would do since he was in a pinch.

  “You have to get rid of her, too, Ramone,” Trony said, pouring another drink and never bothering to look him in the eye.

  “She’ll go in due time.”

  “She knows too much about your business. You should’ve gotten rid of her when she left you.”

  “She’s been here on this island for several years. As far as we know, she’s never breathed a word about me to anyone. Why is she suddenly a liability?”

  “You’ve left too many loose ends. What ’cha gonna do when those ends wrap around your neck, huh? You’re considered the ultimate catch by every government on the planet. You’re not wanted alive to stand trial for your crimes. You’re worth more dead. People in the cartel—mob captains, bosses, everyone—are offering a hefty price for your head. What don’t you understand about that?”

  “Have you forgotten who signs your paychecks?” Ramone barked, ignoring the other men entering the room in a rush. One of them whispered something to Trony, and Ramone waited for them to leave.

  “What now?”

  Trony tossed back the last of his poison and set the glass on the table. “You won’t need to look very far for your estranged wife, after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She checked into the hotel.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes. She’s with a man.”

  “A man?” Ramone threw his head back in laughter. “After what I put her through, I don’t think our little Jillian—Paige—will ever be with a man again!”

  “S’true,” Trony said sternly.

  “If she’s here, she’s probably eating lunch with one of her girlfriends and maybe her friend dresses like a man. You can never tell too much about these things. American women wear strange fashions. It’s not uncommon to find them in a man’s suit.”

  “She’s in the Presidential Suite and from what the boys tell me, she’s with a man, all right, a large, possessive man who can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.”

  Ramone processed. “With a man?”

  “Yes. The room is registered to a Mr. and Mrs. Jeff Jacobsen.”

  Ramone slammed his fist against the back of the sofa. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” Enraged, he paced like a lion. “Get on the phone. Find out who he is, and don’t just give me a name.

  “I want his date of birth, where he went to nursery school, where he graduated from college, and a thorough background check on every family member. Hell, tell me what color underwear he has on, but by God, you get me something more than his measly name!”

  “They checked in fifteen minutes ago. I’m on it. We’ll find out what we can.”

  That’s what he liked to hear—compliance.

  Ramone pointed his finger in Trony’s face. “You find out who he is. I’ll be in my room. Let me know when you have what I want. Mr. Jeff Jacobsen made a very big mistake bringing my wife to our front door.”

  * * * *

  “We were made,” Jeff told her when they locked themselves in the exclusive Presidential Suite.

  “Twice,” she said.

  “Twice?”

  “Once in the lobby. Once at the elevator. You probably didn’t notice the guy at the front desk.”

  Jeff wouldn’t justify her correct assumption with a reply. They were made twice? Was he slipping? Maybe. This kind of thing happened when a man put his cock before his life.

  One thing occupied Jeff’s mind. Until he put a few carnal acts behind him, he needed to pay closer attention to the small details. Otherwise, he might get them both killed.

  “When we checked in, there was a man standing next to the desk reading over some documents. I can’t remember his name. Trony, Ramone’s right-hand man, hired him personally, and Ramone didn’t like him, but he didn’t buck Trony. Ramone rarely crosses Trony.”

  “Trony is the Jack of Spades?”

  “Yes.”

  A heavy knock landed against the door. Jeff reached for the gun he had tucked away in his boot but Paige waved her hand once she peeked outside. “Our luggage?” she teased. “We might need that at some point, you know.”

  Minutes later, they were alone again. “Did you pack enough?” Jeff asked, eyeing five pieces of luggage, one of which belonged to him.

  She grinned. “You might thank me later.”

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she teased, unzipping the main bag holding his interest.

  Jeff knelt beside her and together they unpacked her weapons. “Good Lord, woman, are you expecting a war?”

  “Yes,” she replied frankly. “And as long as we’re here, you need to understand something. I can get inside Ramone’s head. I understand how he thinks. If we’re going to fight him, and we’re apparently going to, then you have to put aside your male ego. Let me tell you what I can about him. I’m your ace in the hole.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” he said, giving her an approving nod. “So you read minds, do you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But once he sees me, I can tell you how to prepare. You have to trust me.”

  Jeff tilted his head. He studied the little spit-fire of a woman, wondering what she was thinking, wondering if she grew wet when she thought about spending the night with him. He was dying to kiss her, but there’d be time for a little smooching later. “Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

  He held her hand for a minute, pulling her through the suite. Victorian décor with dark wood and antique furnishings created an ambiance for romance. The four-poster king bed was hard to ignore, and the wood-burning fireplace looked inviting. Realizing his grip had suddenly changed, he dropped her hand.

  If only, he thought. He shook his head, forbidding himself to go there.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she hummed. “And not in this lifetime, Jeff. We’d kill each other.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snapped, marching up the spiral steps located in the corner of the bedroom. Not in this lifetime? Ha! Maybe not in the next three minutes but definitely in this lifetime and in this hotel suite!

  * * * *

  Paige met Jeff in what the lo
cals around JekyllIsland referred to as the crow’s nest, which was located in the hotel’s somewhat-famous turret. They had a remarkable view of the river, and Paige couldn’t help but feel like she’d really missed out on the finer things in life. She’d also failed to enjoy the simple pleasures surrounding the island.

  “Wow,” she said, gasping. “Look at the scenery from here. Everything looks so green.” Aglow with a bright emerald shine, the well-manicured lawn and large shade trees painted an exquisite picture. “Do you feel the history surrounding us?”

  Jeff frowned. “What’s it feel like?”

  “Wise guy,” she grumbled, thinking he was probably more interested in their present rather than someone else’s past. “J.P. Morgan vacationed here, along with the Vanderbilt family.” She sighed. “Can you imagine what kind of dinner parties were thrown here back in the day? What interesting conversations there must have been when all the leading families came together for their vacations.”

  “I bet old J.P. was something else.”

  “He would’ve taught you a thing or too.” A strike later, she returned to her primary focus, adding, “Even with everything going on in our lives, this is such a treat. We have the best seat in the house.”

  “Pretty,” he commented, eyeing her more than the hotel grounds. “Remarkable, in fact,” he went on, his voice trailing off as he stepped into her. “Sensational, really.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked, when his arms wrapped around her waist.

  “I’m kissing my bride and hoping like hell you don’t object. A lot of curtains are open down there. Who knows, Trony or Ramone may be watching us now. Tourists are on the lawn. Let’s make this good, baby. Put on a show.”

  “But—”

  His lips stole hers, and he kissed her softly, rubbing her arms with a gentleman’s touch, not at all what she expected from Jeff.