The Dom Who Loved Me (Masters and Mercenaries #1)(72)

“You’re on American soil, Black,” Sean interjected. “She doesn’t have to answer any of your questions. She could just get a lawyer.”

“Sean…” Ian’s warning was interrupted.

Mr. Black leaned forward. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If she does that, I’m afraid she’ll be implicated in the death of Kayla Green. That’s the kind of thing that doesn’t go away. Once the press gets a hold of that story, it will follow you, Ms. Hawthorne.”

Grace’s hand went slack in his, and Sean watched all of the blood drain from her face. “What did you say?”

Sean tried to pull her hand back in his, but she moved away. If Sean could have killed Black in that moment, he would have.

Black smiled the smooth smile of a predator who knew he had the upper hand. “I was talking about the death of your colleague. She was found murdered in an alley. It was by a coffee shop.”

“Grace, I meant to tell you.” Sean’s words felt impotent.

Grace wasn’t listening. “Kayla’s not dead. I saw her this afternoon. She just got stuck in the rain.”

“How could you tell her that way?” Eve sounded outraged.

“Black, this is neither the time nor the place.” Ian’s jaw tightened.

“Oh, but it is. It’s obvious to me your group isn’t what I thought it was. You’re supposed to be the baddest of the bad, but you’re treating this suspect with kid gloves.” He turned back to Grace. “Your friend is dead. I believe she’s dead because Patrick Wright mistook her for you. As to the method of her demise, Wright was always a big proponent of knife play. He preferred it to a gun. You should ask your gallant swain there. He is the one who found her body.”

Now Grace was looking at Sean. Her hazel eyes accused him. “You knew. You knew what happened to Kayla, but you didn’t tell me?”

He kept his voice low, trying to keep the matter between the two of them. “Grace, I was going to tell you, but when we were alone.”

“We just spent an hour alone, Sean. It didn’t occur to you to tell me then?”

It hadn’t. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d been too concerned with making love to her, with marking her as his. He hadn’t wanted to deal with anything but the need to be close to Grace. “I was going to tell you tonight, when we go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Sean. Either you thought I would know because I had something to do with it, or you decided it was up to you to control whether or not I knew my friend was dead.” She turned back to Black, obviously dismissing Sean. “Why would Parnell, I mean Wright, want to kill me?”

Sean wanted to wipe the smug smile off that son of a bitch’s face.

“Well, Ms. Hawthorne, I suspect you know more than you’re telling us, or more than you think. Did you care for your friend?” Black asked.

“I loved her.” Her voice was soft. What she said was true. There was no question in Sean’s mind. She loved her friend, and she was falling right into Black’s trap.

“Then the only way to help her now is to catch her killer.”

Sean was on his feet in an instant. “That is not going to happen.”

Black wasn’t paying attention to his show of righteous anger. He leaned toward Grace. “I believe you’re the only one who can make this right.”

Grace threaded her hands together. They made a tight fist on the table. “What do you need me to do?”





There was a brief knock on the door, but Grace didn’t bother to bid the person to come in or stay out. She knew who it was and nothing so simple as words would keep Sean Taggart out when he wanted in. She would have locked the door to the big bedroom she had been shown to after the “interview” was over, but she suspected Sean would have used a key or simply kicked the door in. He had skills she had never dreamed of.

Over the last few hours, she had learned an awful lot about her lover. He was former Special Forces. Sean Taggart had been a decorated Green Beret working the most dangerous missions the army had in Afghanistan. He’d worked for the CIA before, while he was in the army, and as a contractor in the States. He was a dangerous man.

He was also a man who knew a whole lot of cuss words. He’d used some words Grace wasn’t even sure were English on Mr. Black when Grace had agreed to help. Then he’d used a few on her.

Grace sat on the bed while the door opened, and Sean entered carrying a huge tray. It hurt to look at him. He was so gorgeous. He was a solid presence in a world that now seemed completely off kilter. She wanted nothing more than to toss this whole problem in his lap and allow him to solve it for her. It would be easy to do. He would let her. All she had to do was give the word, and Sean would take over. She would be hustled off someplace safe. He would handle it.

And he wouldn’t look at her the same way again. She remembered his words that first night they had made love. He wanted a partner. Even though she didn’t intend to be that partner, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words that made her just another clinging sub to him.

“I brought you dinner.” He stood at the foot of the bed, his words small and seemingly cautious.

“I’m not hungry.” The thought of food…then the smell hit her. She looked down at the tray he set on the bed. It was as elegantly set as any restaurant she’d been in. There was silverware, a china plate containing a small, crusted serving of something that smelled delicious, a salad, a wine glass, and a carafe of white wine. “Is that a pie?” It didn’t smell sweet. It was savory and reminded her she hadn’t eaten in hours and hours.