Chapter 9

Meara resisted Finn’s kisses at first, trying to wrest her wrists out of his iron grip and attempting to unseat him from her waist as she arched her back like a bronco endeavoring to throw off its rider. His masculine lips curved into a smile against hers as he buried his tongue in her mouth, silencing any objections she might have voiced, his oh-so-hard body quickly getting harder.

She feinted giving in, unclenching her fists and even tangling her tongue with his as he probed her in a hot and tantalizing way—and damned if she didn’t enjoy it. She forced herself to relax the rest of her body as he remained crouched over her, the conqueror over the conquered. At least to his way of thinking, she was certain.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy him kissing her—the heat of his mouth, the exploration of his tongue, the sweet taste of peppermint—and the way his desire for her was growing. A man had never pinned her down like this, and she found it rather exhilarating in a sensuously exciting way. If the circumstances were different, she would have liked the feeling of wrestling him right back.

But she did not like being kept in the dark as if she wasn’t important enough to be given any details. And although she had to admit she had started it by impulsively socking him with the pillow, she thought he’d tackled her to keep from explaining what was wrong. She wasn’t falling for his ploy.

When she thought she’d conned him into believing she was surrendering to his superior strength, she jerked her hands up to shove him off her, at the same time jamming her feet into the mattress and lifting with her hips to toss him aside. It worked for about a half second. She threw him aside just enough that she thought she could scurry free, but he swiftly regained his balance and pinned her, this time with the whole weight of his body. And smiled, his expression one of pure, unadulterated smug maleness.

Wearing only his cotton briefs, Finn pressed against her, his stiff rod sliding up her bare belly, and she groaned into his mouth as he began kissing her again.

She capitulated, giving herself to him and greedily kissing him back, unwilling to battle with him any longer or to fight her burgeoning desire to sample him further. She wound her hands around his neck, pulling him closer, her body writhing under his in a way that showed him just what she wanted—to be pleasured short of a mating. When you can’t beat them, join them would became her new motto if it felt this damned good.

He knew it, too, when he felt her truly give in this time. He didn’t have to ask, just reached down between their bodies and stroked her cleft through her soft cotton pajama shorts.

Her nipples tightened against the skimpy fabric of her tank top, stretching to him and sensitizing to his touch. She moaned against his mouth as he stroked her slowly and firmly. Without giving herself permission, she arched against his fingers, wanting them inside her now. But he only shifted for better access, still stroking her through the soft fabric.

Next time, if there was a next time, she was sleeping naked like she usually did. But she often lounged around in the tank top and shorts before she went to bed and then shucked them when she retired for the night. She’d thought she’d be safer not removing them while sharing a place with Finn. She hadn’t expected to be in bed with him, and definitely wearing anything wasn’t a guarantee she’d be safe from him or her own feelings about him.

Only now—she wanted his fingers inside her.

Then as if he read her mind, either that or her wriggling against his fingers clued him in, he slid them underneath the crotch of her shorts and pressed into her wet sheath. She groaned in pure ecstasy, hating that she sounded so needy, but the expression on his face made her think he was experiencing his own kind of sweet agony. Watching her writhing against him, wet and prepared for his entrance, his masculine scent and her feminine one mixing in a heady aphrodisiac, he looked like he wouldn’t last.

So much for him being the conqueror. She smiled at the notion.

The fabric of his white cotton boxers was so translucent that they revealed the shadow of his rigid erection curved toward his belly. She wanted to touch him, to stroke him like he was stroking her, but his fingers pressing deep inside her stole her thoughts. She was powerless to do anything but arch against his questing fingers. Until she surged toward climax.

A cataclysmic flood of orgasmic pleasure swept over her, but before she could cry out, his mouth was on hers, kissing her, tasting her, nipping at her. Thrusting against her, he rubbed his penis between her legs. Like before, they were both clothed, yet as hard as he was and as forceful as his movements were, she envisioned him ripping out of his shorts and finding his way inside hers.

Wanting to ease his agony, she slid her hands around his waist and tugged at his waistband to pull his shorts down. “No,” he groaned against her mouth. “It isn’t safe.”

She was certain he was honorable enough that he wouldn’t put them in jeopardy by mating with her because of biological need but nothing more. And she wanted him to feel pleasure like he’d given her. “But…”

He shook his head. “You’re too damned… desirable.

She loved his words, still coated with a throaty lustfulness, the sound so sexual and raw it made her moan for more. He simulated being inside her, rubbing his erection against her shorts-covered crotch, hard and fast and furious, making her come all over again. And this time, he did, too.

“God, Meara, you’re too damned hot,” he ground out with a final thrust against her.

She felt the wetness between them and knew he’d come in his shorts, but she was glad he’d been able to climax this time instead of just her. She’d never felt anything so wonderfully erotic, so sexually satisfying with a man.

And that was the problem. The only ones she had been with had been human, had to be, or if she’d taken the relationship too far, she would have been mated for life.

Finn Emerson was pure wolf. Sexy as the devil, and as much as she told herself that just her hormones were making her want more, that any wolf would do, she knew it wasn’t so. There was something about the way he sought adventure and danger and confronted it like an alpha male that made her admire him. She couldn’t forget how he’d saved Hunter and the rest of the team’s lives when they’d been injured on the last mission. He would never have abandoned them to save his own neck, despite the ease with which he could have slipped away to do so.

Finn sank on top of her and nuzzled a breast, taking a taut nipple in his mouth, and only then did she realize that her tank top had slipped down, revealing one naked breast. “Scorching,” was all he said, then pulled away, and left the bed and the room. Soon, the water pulsed in the shower down the hall.

She still didn’t approve of how he continued to draw Hunter into risky assignments on a contract basis since they’d left the SEALs for the second time. The first time had been years earlier under different names, owing to the fact they lived such long lives. Hunter and the rest of his team members had been on the same team both times—all except Paul, who replaced a team member who had died. Paul had been in the same boat as them, so to speak, having been on a SEAL team some years earlier and having not had enough of the experience to suit him.

They enjoyed updating their training, loving that they were new at the job but already had years of experience behind them. But she hoped Hunter was done with that life now that he’d found Tessa.

When Finn returned to the bedroom, he was wearing a fresh dry set of boxers and smelled of vanilla soap. Her vanilla body wash? He smelled damned sexy wearing it. He lay down on his back, pulling her against his chest in one fluid movement.

He was hot. She’d always thought all the SEALs on Hunter’s team were pretty darned hot. Their physical conditioning kept their prime, hard bodies ready for any task, no matter how physically challenging. But because they were friends of Hunter’s, she’d never looked beyond their sexy physiques, never wanted to think of them as men—or more appropriately wolves—who might be worthy of having as a mate. Not with the kinds of dangerous missions they were always involved in. Not when none of them seemed interested in settling down with a mate.

She let her breath out in a heavy sigh.

She wanted to ask him what the calls were about. She wanted to be kept informed—not treated like she was an outsider, a civilian, not one of the gang. Happily satiated, she snuggled against Finn. She was a pack animal, always had been, and despite not being a member of Hunter’s world when he left for dangers unknown, she wished she had been with him and his loyal friends, taking care of the world’s troubles.

He’d had two packs, his wolf pack and his SEAL pack, until they broke up the team. But even now, with the business they continued to do, his SEAL pack worked together as a team. They also had others who worked with them in their covert operations. Others like Anna.

Meara couldn’t help feeling a ping of jealousy. She hadn’t known that Hunter and his team worked with female operatives. How long had Finn known Anna? Just how deep undercover had their work gone?

Finn’s hand shifted to Meara’s ass. He pulled her leg between his and then began stroking the back of her upper thigh. She didn’t want to think about anything but the way his big hand caressed her skin as if he cherished touching her. She sighed contentedly, listening to his heartbeat, nearly purring—if a wolf could purr—against his chest, and wondering why Finn hadn’t ever made a move on her before this. Which she quickly summed up with one word that was a name.

Hunter.

* * *

Finn had known he was in trouble when he got a glimpse of Meara at her cabin and remembered how he’d always secretly found her one of the sexist women alive. She was a turn-on for him in so many ways. Her looks were only part of the package. The way she cared about others made him admire her—just like her concern for Hunter when Finn and he and the other guys went on a mission. Finn had always thought how nice it would have been to have a sister who worried about him so. On the other hand, he didn’t want to think about Meara in a sisterly way.

Finn knew her tirades had been because of her concern for Hunter’s and the rest of the men’s safety—but he’d learned to read her a long time ago, despite the invisible protective armor she wore. She was rash sometimes, but when it came to righting wrongs, she wouldn’t wait for anyone else to get there first to do the job.

He sighed deeply, stroking her leg until she fell sound asleep. He knew she was worried about his text messages. And he suspected that if he’d told her what they were about, she would have insisted that both she and Finn rescue Anna.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. He was the undercover guy. He slipped the comforter over them. Then he let his breath out in exasperation. And what was she supposed to be? The hostess for the cliffside rental cabins? Free for any wolf to pursue? He didn’t like that notion one bit.

Give it up, he told himself. He wasn’t settling down. He liked his life of adventure, of feeling he was saving the world one mission at a time. He liked being in new places. He was sure he’d hate settling down and getting stuck in one place. And he knew how hard it was for Meara to move to new locations. Hunter had always said she never liked to leave a place once she’d set down roots.

Finn still couldn’t believe that Hunter had found a mate without telling anyone on the team. How had Tessa convinced Hunter to go on a honeymoon? Their kind didn’t marry or follow other human traditions like that.

Finn shook his head. No, mated life wasn’t for him.

He listened to the ocean surging onto the beach, reminding him of his Navy days and his early SEAL training. As a part-time wolf, he’d had to fight wanting to shift and chew out of his restraints while being drownproofed. Being attacked by a trainer in a pool had also triggered the need to shift and eliminate his attacker. He’d had to keep reminding himself it was only part of the training.

He caressed Meara’s arm, felt the way her satiny hair splayed across his chest, and luxuriated in the warmth of her soft body. He inhaled her tantalizing sexy fragrance, memorizing it for all time.

Hell, being in the Navy had never been like this.

* * *

Anna considered hotels and bed-and-breakfast accommodations, trying to figure out which would allow her to monitor Joe’s movements more easily. Neither type of accommodation would be all that safe if an assassin wanted to get to her. But she thought a bigger place would protect lodging staff better. Too small a place and the people running it could get caught in the crossfire, if there was any.

She had to settle down and set her trap. She finally picked the Oceanview Hotel and parked. The hotel was situated cliffside with a sandy beach below, although beaches and ocean views weren’t important to her mission. But her choice did make her appear to be on vacation, in case he wasn’t quite sure if she was a civilian or on a job.

Fresh fruit and buttered popcorn greeted guests in the lobby, reminding Anna that she hadn’t eaten in a long while. After she checked in, she grabbed a bag of popcorn to finish her I’m-on-vacation look before she headed up to the room.

The hotel advertised that it was pet friendly, and a short squat man who had been walking his short squat bulldog on a patch of grass out front entered the lobby. Would wolves be welcome? Only if guests thought the wolf was a nice doggy that looked rather wolf-like. If she wanted to go out on a walk as a wolf, she’d have to have a handler. Handler. As if anyone could handle her.

She glanced through the glass lobby doors and saw the faux Joe park his car. A wolf. Finn had said the man was a wolf. But the assassin she’d killed hadn’t been. The other who’d fallen from the cliff near Meara’s cabin had been a wolf. Which meant? Maybe the person who contracted the killings was limiting his pack losses, if the one on the cliff had been part of his pack, and trying out a few human assassins. And this guy? Maybe he was the one who had nearly gotten Hunter’s team killed six months earlier.

After paying for a room, she rolled her bag to the elevator, catching a glimpse of the man whom she thought called himself Joe Matheson. His green eyes caught and held hers in the brief instant before the elevator door closed. His gaze stroked all the way down her body, cad, but he smiled a little when his focus settled on the bag of popcorn in her hand.

And she knew he knew she wasn’t on vacation.

* * *

He followed me into Oceanview Hotel, 20 min north of you. Didn’t come into elevator. I’m in my room, 601.

Anna texted Finn while he still reclined in the guest bed in the safe house, his arms folded around Meara. She stirred and Finn slipped out from under her, his heart in his throat as he padded down the hall to the living area and texted Anna back.

Paul there in hr and a half or so. Don’t take unneeded risks. Bolt door.

Anna immediately responded.

I’ve sent Paul a message. Shit, lockpick in door…

But Imposter Joe couldn’t get to her if she’d bolted the damn door. Finn waited a heartbeat for Anna to send another text to finish her statement, but when she didn’t, he texted her. She didn’t respond. Adrenaline surged through him as he tore into the guest bedroom, grabbed his trousers, and began yanking them on.

“What’s wrong?” Meara asked, sitting up, and looking sleepy and well-loved as she stared at him.

Normally decisive, Finn was having a devil of a time trying to figure out what to do next. Rescue Anna and leave Meara behind, where he thought she’d be safer. Or let Anna take care of Joe on her own, while Finn stayed and protected Meara, which was the way he and Anna had been trained to accomplish such a mission. Or take Meara with him to rescue Anna, which was the worst possible scenario, as far as he was concerned.

Meara got out of bed and pulled on her shirt over her pajama tank top. “Is he here? At the house?” she asked. She tried to hide her anxiousness, but he saw it in her widened eyes and heard it in the slight tremor in her voice.

“No,” Finn said abruptly, jerking on his boots. If he’d been alone, he would have already left to take care of Anna. He felt the guilt of letting her deal with the threat alone, while worrying about Meara’s safety, too.

Meara narrowed her eyes and yanked on her pants. “But we’re leaving.”

“I am. You need to stay here.”

“Alone?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Joe, our imposter, may have gotten into Anna’s hotel room. We’re the closest she’s got for backup. I’m the closest she’s got for backup,” he quickly amended.

“Ah.” Meara wiggled her feet into her still-tied tennis shoes and headed toward the bedroom door. “What are we waiting for?”

“You are staying here,” Finn repeated, strapping on his gun.

She passed him and headed for the garage. “Hunter would be ticked off if he knew you left me behind… alone.” She gave Finn a crooked smile over her shoulder.

“Hunter would undoubtedly know you better than that,” Finn said sarcastically. “But I doubt he would want to hear you tagged along, either.”

Yet Finn hadn’t wanted to enforce his decision to leave her. As much as he didn’t want Meara with him and in harm’s way, he really didn’t feel comfortable leaving her behind.

“So where is Anna?” Meara asked, nearly to the garage.

“We passed it on the way here. It’s the Oceanview Hotel, about twenty minutes up the road.”

They didn’t speak any further and were soon in Finn’s Hummer and on the road. With his foot flooring the gas pedal, they barreled north toward the hotel. He hoped to hell no cops were on the road tonight. He wasn’t stopping to get a ticket if an overzealous cop happened to catch him speeding.

“What’s happened?” Meara asked softly.

“Anna began texting me a message that sounded as though he was picking her lock to get into her room, but she abruptly stopped in the middle of a sentence. She didn’t respond when I tried to contact her again.”

Meara paled a little at that. “She hadn’t bolted the door in time.”

“Sounded like it. When we reach the hotel, I want you to stay in the Hummer.”

As soon as she stiffened her back, he realized Meara wasn’t going for it.

“Why don’t I sit in the lobby? Hotel staff and guests would be there, and I should be safe.” Meara smiled sweetly when he continued to clench his teeth, his neck muscles taut and his grip on the steering wheel just as tight. “I can scream really loud, Finn,” she added, trying to get him to concede.

Finn hesitated to say no, and his hesitation told Meara she was close to convincing him to allow her to stay with him, or at least not far away. She didn’t think staying by herself in the semidark parking lot was a good idea. And she wasn’t going to stay put, even if he told her to do so. Sure, he was a well-trained covert operator, but he didn’t have a crystal ball to tell him where she should stay to remain safe.

“Here we are.” His vehicle tore into the hotel parking lot. He jerked the car to a stop, raced around the other side of the Hummer, and hurried her out of the vehicle toward the lobby with a short, “Come on.”

She might have objected to his rushing her when she could rush on her own very nicely, but she sensed his concern about Anna and went along with him tugging her. If she’d had legs longer than his, she would have hauled him instead.

Movement toward the wooden walk to the beach caught her eye. When she turned to see what it was, she glimpsed a man shielded by a pine tree. She would have figured he was outside taking a smoke, collecting his thoughts, or something like that except that he looked like—no, couldn’t be.

The guy Hunter hadn’t let her date before the team went on that last SEAL mission, Cyn Iverson, wouldn’t have just popped up here of all places. Too weird to consider.

She tried to see more of him, but he stepped behind the tree, and she missed her opportunity, especially with Finn tugging her toward the hotel at a sprinter’s pace.

Finn threw open the door and hauled her inside.

“Stay here,” he ordered, moving her to the lounge chair closest to the check-in counter in the plush lobby. Chandeliers sparkled above, dripping with crystal icicles, and beneath her feet was terra-cotta tile—warm and rustic looking, at odds with the formality of the light fixtures. She sat in the cushy chair, which was covered in floral pastel, and glanced up at Finn, who repeated, “Stay here,” gave her a look that said, Or else, and then hurried toward the stairs.

Her gut tightened with tension as she watched his posture shift into offensive rescue mode. She knew Hunter had placed his trust in the right man when he’d said for her to stay with Finn. And she rather liked Finn, despite his bossy demeanor. But she worried about both him and Anna.

As soon as Finn disappeared into the stairwell, she noted how empty the lobby was. Just one clerk was at the front counter, dressed in a charcoal gray suit and a red tie that clashed with the tile floor and busy taking a reservation on the phone. She glanced back at the doorway, thinking of the man who’d looked vaguely like Cyn. If that had been him, he wouldn’t like seeing her with another man, and she figured he wouldn’t attempt to approach her. For all Cyn knew, she was mated to Finn, they had gotten a room, and he was in a hurry to take her there for a romantic night.

Since Hunter hadn’t let her date Cyn, she knew Finn wouldn’t allow her to meet with him, either, even if everything was all right upstairs and she had the opportunity. If not for Imposter Joe, who could still be on the premises, she would have left the hotel on her own to satisfy her curiosity—to set Cyn straight that she wasn’t in a permanent relationship with Finn and to see if Cyn was still worth pursuing. She was beginning to have her doubts, since he hadn’t gotten in touch with her since before Hunter’s failed mission. Oh, and of course, she wanted to find out if the man even was Cyn.

That made her wonder if she’d seen someone else lurking, rather than enjoying the view and the great outdoors—someone like the assassin who had hit Allan. That made her decide to stay where she was.

But considering how devoid of guests the lobby was, she wondered if she should have remained in the dark in the Hummer. If she had stayed in the vehicle, she might have seen more of the man lurking by the tree without him noticing and discovered if he truly was Cyn.

But Joe was a wolf, too, and in the dark, he could have easily spied her sitting there all alone.

Just like here.

* * *

Finn dashed up the stairs to the sixth floor of the hotel and reached Anna’s suite in record time. With his lockpick, he quickly unlocked her door, which automatically shut and relocked itself behind him when he entered the suite. He hurried through the empty living area, noting a table overturned, a lamp lying on the floor, and a couch cushion askew—evidence of a major struggle. But no smell of blood.

His heart pounding thunderously, he cursed under his breath as he stalked to the bedroom, smelling Joe Matheson’s and Anna’s scent throughout the place while listening to a faint rustling sound in the bedroom.

Anna wasn’t saying a word, and neither was Joe. Had they heard Finn? Most likely, despite how he was trying to move soundlessly across the carpeted floor. They couldn’t have missed the door closing with a slight click.

Knowing it could be a trap, Finn pondered shifting into the wolf, but instead, with gun in hand, he rushed into the bedroom. And found Anna gagged, with her hands tied to the headboard, her legs spread-eagled, her ankles tied to the footboard, and her eyes wide with surprise. But appearing uninjured, thank God.

Snapping his gaping mouth shut, he did a quick search through the room, the closet, and the balcony, finding no one in the suite but Anna.

When Finn headed back to the bed, he tried to fight a smile and failed. Anna rolled her eyes at him. That’s when he noted what Joe had used to confine her. A pair of her sheer black panty hose was tied around her mouth. Her wrists were tied to the headboard with another pair, and her ankles tied to the footboard with… he squinted to identify the items. A black silk scarf and black net leggings. She was still fully clothed but he imagined she’d been stripped of her weapons, and she looked unharmed, just a little tussled.

He freed her mouth first, then quickly worked on her wrists while she scolded him. “Hell, Finn, where’s the girl?”

The girl—Meara—was about the same age as Anna. His teammate’s derogatory way of calling Meara “the girl” was probably because Anna knew Finn had a thing for Meara, like the rest of the guys on Hunter’s team, and because Meara was a civilian and not “one of the guys” trained to use deadly force like Anna was. At least as a human. As a wolf? That was a different story. Their wolf instincts for self-preservation and protecting others came naturally to them. And from the stories Hunter had told about Meara, she didn’t hesitate to use her wolf teeth to make her point with other wolves who gave her trouble.

He was already leaving the room, letting Anna free herself the rest of the way so he could make sure Meara was safe, when Anna called after him, “The fake Joe did this so he could find you again, Finn. And he wanted to make sure I was one of the good guys on your team.”

“I take it he’s one of us.”

“Deep cover,” she said, hurrying after him. “Or at least I assume he is. He didn’t tell me. I just figured since he tied me up and didn’t do anything else, he was waiting for you to come to my rescue. Which would prove we worked together.”

He glanced back at her. “Lose your weapons?”

She gave him a withering look, opened a drawer in the chest of drawers, yanked her guns and knife out of it, and then quickly tucked them in the leather holsters where she always kept them.

“He put them in the drawer?”

“Yes, of course. I was wearing them.”

He could almost hear the “duh” after her statement. “How’d he manage to overwhelm you? I thought you were more capable than that.”

His words were spoken with tight humor, more joking than critical, but he couldn’t help worrying about Meara’s safety. Teasing Anna helped to diffuse the tension he was feeling. He hurried out of the suite and down the hall toward the stairs.

Anna snorted as she followed him to the stairs. “You said he was good. You were right. And unlike at least one of the assassins who came after you, he’s a wolf.” She smiled. “Not bad looking, either.” Then she frowned. “But you shouldn’t have risked coming after me and leaving Meara to fend for herself. I could have taken care of myself.”

Racing down the stairs with Anna trying to keep up with his lankier stride, Finn shook his head. “You looked like you were doing a fine job of it.”

* * *

In the lobby, Meara was watching the hallway to the elevators and emergency stairs for any sign of Anna and Finn, as well as the front door, half expecting the man who looked vaguely like Cyn to come inside. The man most likely had a room here.

Then movement from one of the hallways caught her eye, and she turned. Her jaw dropped. Joe, or whoever he really was, exited into the lobby. Her heart began skipping beats.

Now all dressed in black—trousers, boots, and T-shirt, but no weapons that she could see—he looked very spook-like, his expression hard and determined, his gait focused. He was definitely on the move. Nothing casual about him.

She hesitated to react, wanting to sink into the cushions before he spied her or to get up quickly and find another location where he couldn’t see her. Even though she wasn’t usually a coward, she was worried about Anna and Finn, and she didn’t feel equipped to deal with this man.

The tension in her spine ratchetted up several notches as she watched Joe head toward the lobby. Before she could do anything, he saw her.

His eyes widened, and he changed course, heading straight in her direction.

Heart beating even harder, if that was possible, she stiffened and quickly pulled out her cell phone, scolding herself for not having done so the instant she’d seen him. Although she knew any movement on her part would have caught his eye. She had hoped he wouldn’t see her. Fat chance. She was the only one sitting in the lobby. Even if she’d been a block of wood resting on a chair, he would have noticed.

Joe was smiling at her like a cat that had cornered a mouse, and she frowned back at him as she punched a button to automatically dial Hunter’s number. She had no clue what he could do for her when he was in Hawaii. Maybe relay a message to Finn or Paul—who was on his way but would be too late to do her any good.

She hadn’t thought to program her phone to include Finn’s number. But Mr. Wolf-Man Spy hadn’t, either.

Even so, she wasn’t afraid of Joe, figuring he wouldn’t risk trying to move her out of the lobby, considering the fight she’d put up. Maybe she should be more afraid. What if he shoved a gun in her ribs and told her to come with him or else? She’d be dead if she went with him. No matter what, she wasn’t leaving here with him.

Would she have been better off in the Hummer? No. He could have forced her out of the vehicle, and no one would have even noticed. Except maybe the man by the pine tree. If he was still there.

She felt safer in the well-lit lobby, although at this late hour, it was empty. The same lone clerk stood behind the counter, speaking on the phone to yet another potential customer and oblivious to the menace approaching Meara.

“Meara! What’s wrong?” Hunter asked over her cell phone. She gave a start when she realized he was speaking to her over the phone, having forgotten she’d punched in his number. How many times had he already asked her what was wrong without her hearing him?

Joe reached her in a couple of lengthy strides. Towering over her, he stretched out his hand, palm up, and silently asked her to give up her phone.

She hesitated to speak to her brother as Joe slowly shook his head at her, his eyes dark and his expression even darker, warning her not to say anything.

“Meara?” Hunter said again, only this time his voice was even harder and more anxious.

“What do you want?” she asked Joe, still not handing over her phone. “You can’t take me hostage with all the people hanging around here.” There, she’d let Hunter know what was happening. He was probably wondering what had happened to Finn.

Joe smiled at the reference to the nonexistent people hanging around the lobby. Maybe also because she’d defied him by letting Hunter know what was going on, although technically she hadn’t spoken to her brother on the phone. The man had to know she was warning someone about his threatening presence, yet he remained cool and didn’t seem the least bit worried about Finn arriving to save the day.

A trickle of worry slid down her spine. What had happened to Finn? Was he hurt or worse? And Anna? What had Joe done to her?

Meara would not show how terrified she was that they could be injured or worse. Already adrenaline was shooting through her icy veins, preparing her to do everything she could to fight him, should Joe try to remove her bodily from the lobby.

Hunter was silent, and she knew he had to be worried sick about her and Finn. Angry, too, that anyone might be threatening either of them.

Joe pried the phone from her fingers, ended the call, and handed the phone back to her. “Don’t try to lose me again.” His words were spoken with dark emphasis.

Then as if he wanted to make sure he’d impressed her with his serious intent, he crouched in front of her with his hands on her knees, firm and caressing. When she tried to jerk them free, he tightened his grip. As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “I wouldn’t need a gun to encourage you to come with me.” His eyes were nearly black with promise.

Yet, something else flickered across them. Intrigue, sensual desire. She had to be mistaken.

Then without another word, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, soft and warm and honeyed. Not pressuring, just a sampling of what he could provide if she took him up on it.

Shocked, she didn’t react to his impudence like she would have, had she been thinking clearly. He leaned back and smiled a little to see her lips parted in surprise. Then he stood, winked in a most maddeningly self-assured way, and strode off into the lounge.

It took her a moment to recover, to think of what to do. Hell, she didn’t even know his name. Not that she figured he was going to give it to her. But she wanted something to call him other than Imposter Joe, should the need arise. And she hoped she could delay him long enough that Finn might catch up with him, if he was able to reach her anytime soon. From the way this man had treated her, she assumed he wouldn’t have harmed Finn or Anna. Or maybe that was damned wishful thinking.

“Wait!” she called after Joe, standing, her legs surprisingly weak and her stomach weaker. “What’s your name?”

But he didn’t say a word or even glance in her direction, leaving her torn between chasing after him or finding Finn and Anna. She didn’t have a clue which room Anna was staying in, though. She hurried after Joe. “Wait!”

He cast a knowing smile at her over his shoulder. Like a pied piper, he opened a dark door, luring her toward the darkened hotel lounge, which was filled with people, she noted with surprise as she drew closer. Joe was right. He hadn’t needed a gun to get her to go with him. Although she wasn’t going with him exactly, but rather following him. Maybe she could ID his car’s license plate number, get the make of his vehicle, and learn more about him when he left. Not that she was going anywhere outside with him. She would peek out a window, though, and try to determine what his car looked like and its plate number.

Then she’d tell Finn what she’d learned.

The stairwell door opened with a loud thunk that resounded through the lobby. Meara whirled around. Finn hurried toward her, Anna on his heels, both looking like they were ready to have heart attacks, their gazes dark and worried. Relief flooded her that they were both okay.

“Hell, Meara, you’re all right,” Finn said, his voice threaded with concern. He frowned at her when he noticed she’d been headed away from her chair toward the lounge.

She quickly motioned at the door of the lounge, which was closed again. “Joe went that way.”

Damn it, Meara. What were you doing? Following him?” Finn turned to Anna and said harshly, “Stay with her.”

Meara didn’t like his tone of voice, as if she had been a disobedient child and he was leaving a keeper with her to make her mind.

“When I offered before, you didn’t want me to watch her.” Anna tilted her chin up, defying him to deny it and sounding testy.

Meara was surprised to hear Anna talk back to him, as harshly as he’d spoken. She figured both she and Anna were in the proverbial doghouse. The notion was even more insulting to a wolf.

He gave Anna an irritated look, stormed off toward the lounge, and said over his shoulder, “That was before this Joe tied you up, and you thought he was pretty good looking.”

Shocked, Meara switched her attention to Anna.

Anna raised her brows at Meara’s questioning look. “He was handsome. Don’t you think?” Anna asked Meara, giving a tiny shrug.

“He tied you up, and all you can say is that he was handsome?”

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