19. Emmett

Chapter 19

Emmett

Jenn’s alarm pinged, prompting a small groan as she rolled over to shut it off. Despite our legs remaining tangled, the lack of contact felt wrong. She nestled back against my chest with a soft sigh, pulling my arm over her. She mumbled something that sounded like, “One snooze.”

I didn’t respond to her groggy words. Instead, I pretended I was still asleep. Pretended I was an ordinary man, holding my woman in the morning.

Last night, I’d planned to wait until she fell asleep, then leave. At worst, I would have gone back to my room for the gun, hidden it in the bedside table drawer, and snuck back in next to her. But sleep had taken me too quickly. For the first time in four months, it had been peaceful. No pills, no alcohol, no anything.

Just the woman I couldn’t have, snuggled safely in my arms.

It had taken all my self-control to bring her to this bed and tell her to go to sleep. Every fiber of my being wanted to press my lips against the slope of her shoulder, let my hands travel the landscape of her skin, and feel her pulse quicken under my touch.

Fuck, she’d been so wet in my lap last night. But her heat was nothing against the visions in my dream. I couldn’t shake them, even with her grinding against me.

I’d seen Rav’s doctor once after the ordeal in April.

He’d wanted me to talk about the dreams.

I wanted nothing to do with that.

I’d figured I had all the time in the world to deal with my demons. I hadn’t considered being with a woman since then—barely wanted to spend time with anyone outside of the company.

But then Jenn… urging me to kiss her, to throw her into the bed, to feast on her soaking pussy for hours?

Her breathing became steady again as she drifted back to sleep. I slowly tightened my grip around her waist, feeling the curve of her body tucked against me. If my hand wandered, I could claim I was sleeping. Sink between her legs and stroke her into wakefulness. After last night, I knew she’d say yes.

My cock reacted.

But I had to resist.

She was still Scarlett’s best friend, and Scarlett had been right to warn me off. I was trouble. I was a liar, a manipulator, and was incapable of long-term relationships. No matter what she said, Jenn wouldn’t want a one-night stand. She deserved forever with a reliable man.

And that wasn’t me.

While it also wasn’t Dante, considering he was working with Fenix, at least her revelation about her boyfriend confirmed she was as loyal as I’d thought. She hadn’t been out cavorting, thinking about cheating on her significant other.

Her alarm pinged again, and she sighed. “I need to get ready.”

I didn’t let go; instead, I held fast, making her pause in her stretch for the phone. “Are you all right?”

She relaxed against me and put her hand on top of mine.

“I know I scared you, and I’m more sorry than you can imagine.”

Her alarm continued, but we both ignored it. “Why do you sleep with a gun?”

It had been by my side every night for four months. But that wasn’t a detail she needed to hear. I only had to confess something that would convince her not to delve deeper. “Someone broke into your hotel room.”

She threaded her fingers between mine, a gesture too intimate and so welcoming. “That’s why you kept your door open? In case someone sneaks in?”

“No.” I should have told her about the monitor attached to the door, which would emit a high-pitched wail if anyone attempted to breach it. The noise would disorient an intruder and give me enough time to react. All the Reynolds team members used those in our hotel rooms. We knew how easy standard security was to break. “That was in case you needed me.”

“I see.” Her voice was hushed, a hint of regret lacing the words as she said, “I need to get ready.”

Reluctantly, I loosened my grip on her waist. “I know.”

She sat up slowly, the sheet sliding down to reveal more of her back—the little tank top barely hid anything. The curtains were slightly open, letting the sun streak across her body, dancing along her elegant spine.

My fingers itched to trace each vertebra, but I clenched them into a fist instead.

She stood, turned off her phone, and left.

The absence of her warmth was immediate and jarring. I rolled onto my back, staring at the ornate chandelier, wrestling with memories that wouldn’t let go. The sound of water running in the bathroom almost had me racing to join her. We’d been close last night—the raw connection we’d nearly made.

With an exasperated sigh, I reached down and smoothed a hand over my hard dick. Stupid shit. I usually had excellent control—critical in my line of work—but instead, it was ready and willing, excitedly awaiting Jenn’s return.

Keep it under control, Em. There’s work to do.

I imagined green felt. Leather bumper. In my mind’s eye, I cupped my hole cards for a preview. Two jacks—I had a six percent chance of a pocket pair on a fifty-two-card deck. But jacks were dangerous. The chance of a higher card showing on the flop was fifty-two percent. I moved through the game, faceless dealer and players calling, raising, folding.

Percentages crammed my brain, multiplying and dividing with each card the dealer revealed.

Five minutes of stats and my hard-on finally calmed down.

I hurried to my room for a tracker and my phone. Making sure not to disrupt any of the contents of her purse, I buried the tracker inside a small zippered compartment, then slid back under the covers.

Maybe I should have settled in my own room or gone to the sitting room and ordered breakfast—or grabbed more clothes—but this bed was warm and smelled like her.

As though summoned by a need to interrupt my thoughts, my phone buzzed, showing Rav’s name. I answered on the first ring, keeping my voice low, though Jenn was still in the shower. “Did I miss anything last night?”

Everyone else on the team had slept in yesterday, knowing it might be a late night; the team at home was five hours earlier than us, so they’d been fresh from the start. I’d been the outlier, up early to escort Jenn to De Rosa’s before spending hours with Jean-Philippe. Try as I might, I hadn’t been able to focus long enough for Jayce to finish searching the storage room at the gallery.

“No scarab, but Jayce took a video, as you requested. Brie’s parsing it to scan stolen artwork databases in case there’s anything else of worth there.”

In this case, items of worth would be anything we could return to its rightful owner or tip the police off about. Not our top priority, but taking anyone with Fenix down a notch was a worthwhile endeavor in my mind.

“What about the truck?” I watched the open door, listening for the water to shut off.

“As we expected, it offloaded everything onto a yacht at Port Hercule,” he continued. “Brie ran a check and confirmed it belongs to Massimo De Rosa.”

“Makes sense. Any idea whether the scarab was in that shipment?”

“Brie found the yacht’s schematic, and Jayce wanted to board it, but there was too much activity. One of the men from the truck stayed onboard, one left on a tender, and the other drove to a parking garage in Nice.”

That meant the scarab could have been on the yacht, in Nice—or wherever the final driver went afterward—or somewhere on the water. “Did you see where the tender went?”

Rav grunted, expressing his disappointment. “He left the port and headed west, but I lost him after he rounded the tip of Le Rocher.”

“That doesn’t help at all.” I paused, listening. The shower turned off. I had to wrap up in case she came out instead of staying in the bathroom to do her makeup. “Although the lesser-known entrance to the Casino Rocher is at the base of the rock, by the tip. If that is where the auction’s taking place, it’s possible he dropped off the scarab.”

“Brie’s team is looking for the auction catalog so we can confirm details.”

“Dark web?”

“She expects so.”

“I’ll have to talk to—” The bathroom door opened, and I shifted the conversation sharply. “Benedict with ham, coffee, and some?—”

Jenn walked in, wearing the robe like last night. Eyes down but darting up. “Yogurt and fruit?”

I put up a finger and nodded, pretending to finish my conversation. “Tea, yogurt, and fruit. How long?”

“Mais oui, but of course, monsieur.” Rav let out a chuckle. “I’ll call the order in for you. Mine was twenty minutes, so you can give her that estimate. And don’t forget to text me before she leaves.”

“Twenty minutes, perfect. Thank you.” I hung up and dropped the phone onto the bedside table.

Jenn glanced at the table, then back at me. “Why’d you call on your cell phone? The hotel phone’s easier.”

“I was too comfy to move.” I shrugged. “And it was all the way over on your side of the bed.”

She crossed the room, heading for her suitcase. “But you went to the other bedroom to grab your phone? You didn’t bring it with you last night.”

Why did I come back to this bed when staying in my room would have been wiser?

“And if you’d left to get it in the middle of the night, I would have woken up.” She opened the suitcase with her back turned slightly to me. She pulled out something black and tiny, stuffing it into an oversized pocket of her robe. Panties. Had she worn any under her sleep shorts? Had she soaked through those, too?

My dick twitched again, like the stubborn appendage it was.

“I’m stealthy like that.” I folded my arm behind my head and propped against the headboard, letting the sheet slip to my waist. Why was I still in her room? Old habits?

Ego?

Honestly? I wanted to see the hunger in her eyes by the light of day.

Fuck, who was I tempting more?

“Are you walking me over this morning?”

“I am.”

“And hovering all day while I work?” She turned so I could see her profile, but she didn’t look at me. Was she embarrassed about last night? Or this morning?

“Can’t imagine Dante would appreciate that.”

“Yeah.” She took in a slow breath. “About last night…”

I let my arm drop and sat up straighter. The gun. My dreams were so bad I could have killed her. I shouldn’t have been replaying how much I’d wanted her last night. I should have focused on how much of a danger I was. “Again, I’m sorry. I never wanted to scare you.”

“Not that.” She turned a little more, fidgeting with a black lace bra. “I think you’ve got Dante wrong. He’s a good man. Generous, kind?—”

“Handsome and rich?”

Blue eyes snapped to mine, and her mouth gaped in shock.

I was not jealous, especially after having her in my lap last night.

“After what I… I said… did…” Her cheeks flamed red, even more obvious because she hadn’t put on any makeup yet. She turned back to the suitcase, wet hair falling to hide her cheeks.

Why was I being such an ass? “Fear makes people say and do things they wouldn’t normally do. I understand.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Jenn flung one hand in the air as though dismissing her words. “Fear makes us act… differently.”

Guilt twisted in my gut. I was lying to her, pretending I didn’t want her when she was all I wanted. But she deserved better than what I had to offer, which was nothing more than a lifetime of lies, danger, and a man incapable of a real relationship.

“Why don’t I leave so you can get dressed?” I shifted to the side of the bed, keeping the sheets over me.

She hesitated, finally glancing over her shoulder at me. Those blue eyes held a flicker of uncertainty, almost like she wanted to protest.

I forced a reassuring smile. “I should put more clothes on, anyway.”

After a moment, she gave a slight nod.

I slid out of the bed, very aware I was only in my underwear. Grabbing my phone, I headed for the door, pausing to look back at her. Committing her tousled hair and makeup-free face to memory. Filing the image next to that of her robe falling away last night, revealing her long leg while I was trying to focus on the job. Her hot sex pressed against me in the wee hours this morning. My hand on her curves when we woke.

She dropped the bra into her open suitcase, turned to face me, and her gaze raked down my torso.

If Jenn didn’t have a boyfriend anymore, Scarlett lost her reason to tell me to keep my hands to myself. Jenn was a grown woman. I was a grown man. We could make our own decisions.

She moistened her lips.

Breakfast, the gallery, and the scarab mission be damned. My whole body screamed at me to lunge across the room and grab her. My boxer briefs didn’t hide how my dick reacted to her, and I didn’t care. Let her see it.

“Em…” Her fingers curled around the edge of her robe, her knuckles grazing her chest. “It wasn’t fear.”

I jolted as my phone buzzed in my hand, yanking my attention to another phone call from Rav. Fucking bad timing. No, it wasn’t bad timing. I wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe the call was the best timing. “It’s work. I need to take this.”

Jenn let go of her robe and spun back to her suitcase, the moment vanishing as quickly as it had started.

“I’ll let you know when breakfast arrives.” Without waiting for a response, I slipped out of her room and closed the door, giving her privacy. Or giving it to myself? I leaned against her door, staring up at the decorative ceiling, poker scenarios running through my brain so I wasn’t talking to Rav with a raging hard-on.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

What isn’t wrong with you? If you flop a three-of-a-kind, the odds of making a full house or better by the river go up thirty-four percent.

Letting out a rush of air in frustration, I headed for my room while answering the phone. “What?”

“Will’s on the plane. He’ll be here in three hours.”

That could have been a text. An email. Could have waited until Jenn and I were done. I clenched my back teeth rather than curse at him. “That it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I clicked off without another word. Why was I being an ass to him? Was I angry he’d interrupted us?

Or grateful he’d saved me from myself?