20. June 15th

JUNE 15TH

TB

Four hours later,the cameras had been installed and tested. For now, TB would be in charge of arming, disarming, and maintaining. In a few days, after things had calmed down a little and Flame was less fragile, he'd teach her the system. He wasn't leaving her here alone, so technically, he didn't need to, but he wanted her to have that element of control if it made her feel better.

Flame reappeared as everyone was leaving. Nemo was last out the door since he'd be on night watch. He gave TB several rapid bro punches to the shoulder, flashing him a teasing look, suggesting all kinds of high school insults he was getting ready to say.

TB simply swatted him away like he was a pesky fly.

With his best Hollywood smile on his face, Nemo sauntered over to Sylvan at the foot of the stairs. Hand held out to her, she slipped her palm to lay against his. Walking backward, he pulled her with him to the front door. Smoothly, he swept her up against the door jamb as he stood in the open doorway. His outside arm was straight up along the doorjamb above her head, his best book boyfriend lean-in going on, her face turned down and toward TB with Nemo's lips inches from her ear. Making sure TB had a clear look at his actions, Nemo took one of the stray curls hanging loose from her braid and wound it around his finger, bringing it up to his nose to sniff. "Mmm. Roses. Very nice."

There was a low rumble in the room.

What the hell is that noise? Was that me?

Nemo brought the curl wound around his finger to his cheek and stroked it against his skin. "Nice and silky."

TB heard the rumble again, a little louder this time.

So, what did the fuckknuckle do? Nemo took a half step closer to her so there was no air visible between them.

A whispered invective beneath his breath this time.

Suddenly, he was thrown for a curve when Flame slid her hands behind her back, one on top of the other against the door jamb. She turned her head to face Nemo, opened her eyes wide, and bit her lower lip.

She looked swept away by Nemo's attention. Innocent and vulnerable. Mesmerized.

Nemo put his forehead to hers. It would take next to no effort for the asshole to kiss her.

He saw Nemo's cheek twitch for a moment, and he leaned in so that his lips looked like they were actually against the shell of her ear. He whispered something to her that caused her to blush, then smile and nod.

This time, Nemo whispered loud enough for TB to hear him. "Remember, if something goes wrong, do what he tells you when he tells you to do it. No joke, Rapunzel."

"I promise."

The curl dropped from his finger, which he raised to draw a soft caress down her cheek, then used to pull her bottom lip free from the teeth worrying it. She closed her eyes when he leaned in to kiss her cheek, then opened her eyes as he pulled back.

The growl this time was clearly heard. Nemo turned his head in TB's direction and winked.

Yep. Nemo's dead. Gonna chop him into a million pieces and send one to each of his conquests. No one will ever find him, and no one will miss him.

Nemo ignored the imminent threat of TB and reached for her hand. He kissed her knuckles again, then he went out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

She immediately locked the door.

"What did he whisper to you?" TB growled.

Staring at their reflections in the glass, even he could see he looked pissed. She shook her head. "Nothing important." They continued to stare at each other via reflection, neither knowing what to do next.

Finally, he started to stomp up the stairs. Flame called after him, her voice cracking with something like worry. "TB…"

He stopped mid-step and turned his face to her. "Yes, princess?"

"I don't think the two of us alone in a confined space is a good idea."

His eyes locked with hers. "It isn't."

"If that's the case, why can't someone else protect me? If you don't want to be around me, why doesn't Nemo stay? He doesn't seem to mind being around me."

Slowly, he turned back to her and descended the three steps he'd gotten up before she spoke, his gaze never breaking from hers. When he was so close to her that they nearly touched, her breathing became labored. He kept his expression tight as he towered over her. "This might be the worst idea ever, but no one—and I repeat, NO ONE—guards you but me."

"I see."

"Do you?" He perused her face, starting at the top of her head and surveying every feature down to her cleavage that was near heaving out of her corseted top. "I wonder." And then he turned and started walking up to the second floor.

Upstairs in his room,TB threw himself on top of the bed and leaned up against the headboard. He grabbed the file folder Waters had left behind hidden amongst the security system plans. Both agreed it would probably be disastrous if Flame saw it, hence why he was working in the bedroom. He was going to have to tell her about the club sooner or later, but he wasn't sure how or when he was going to do that. In the meantime, he'd review Midas' file on her.

Most of it was boring, although there wasn't much there. On top of that, she was such an innocent. What the hell could they possibly find on her? Midas had started it back when the plan was to use her at the club as a shield for questioning but had to quickly drop it due to the intel they began getting on Zahra and the need to get overseas to collect her. Midas had been back at it the last couple of hours. All TB could see was the usual information. Name, social security number, birthday, banking information, tax returns, identification card, billing history, itemized lists of where she spent money and what she purchased. The standard questions.

One thing he had avoided was the information about her romance writing. Midas had compiled a list of the twenty-five romances Flame had written in the last five years. Each title had a picture of the cover next to it and a synopsis of the book pulled from the back of the book. He looked at the first one on the list, her most recent book, Nature of the Beast.

Book 25 in the Primal and Prejudiced Series

BLURB:Paris is in the throes of celebration for the upcoming marriage of Prince Henri to Princess Carlotta until a series of brutal killings puts the city in lockdown. The victims? All are recently wedded couples of the elite class who used the services of Sasha Orlov, a sable shifter with an uncanny knack for making perfect matches.

Desperate to protecthis new bride as well as the citizens of Paris, Prince Henri hires Antoine Deveraux, wolf shifter and private investigator, to find the killer. Is the primary suspect, Sasha Orlov, a violent murderess collecting large legacies left to her by the happy couples? Or is there a serial killer hiding in the shadows of the city?

When Antoine meetsthe Wicked Woman, as the newspapers call her, he discovers that Fate can be a cruel mistress. Sasha is his fated mate. Antoine desperately wants to believe Sasha is innocent, but it's difficult to trust her when the evidence is mounting against her.

In order toclear her name, together they race through the streets and against the clock to catch a killer. Will he be able to prove his fated mate is not the killer before she is arrested and sentenced to the gallows?

BIOGRAPHY:Sylvan Jones, USA Today and New York Times best-selling author, is the author of twenty-five books in the Primal and Prejudiced series. She is the recipient of the Best Debut Romantic Novel Award, the Best Historical Romance Series Award three years in a row, and has topped nearly every "Best Romance" list since her debut novel. She is the top-grossing female writer in her genre.

Influencedby the diabolical mysteries of Agatha Christie and the gothic thriller romances of Victoria Holt, she writes about the paradox of historical eras gone by with the paranormal, following the sweeping family saga of the Deveraux clan, a family with the ancient curse of shapeshifting in their blood and the primal drive to find their fated mate.

"What the hell is a fated mate?"TB murmured.

He pulled out his laptop to look up the term. He read aloud, "A romantic trope that brings two people together that are cosmically bound to one another. This trope guarantees a happy ending as the couple cannot subvert nature's plan for them to be together." He rolled his eyes. "Good grief."

He went back to page one of her file and began to read. One page later, he was done reading the file, other than looking at the bank statements, bills, and book synopses.

He went back and reread the two pages again. Then, he did a cursory flip-through of the appended documents. A frown began to appear on his face.

On the third read-through, he was digging in his bag for a pen, a pad, and a highlighter. The frown was now full-blown, and he was mumbling to himself.

An hour later, he was done. He threw the pen down on top of the legal pad. He flipped one more time through the file, scanning the notes he'd made in the margin and the highlighting he'd done on the appended documents.

What. The. Fuck? This isn't possible.