Defenseless (15 page)

“Catherine, we’ll be back. We’re gonna head toward the beach so Mark can see what real waves look like,” Jackson calls out as he’s already opening the door.

“Okay, Charlie and I will just order food and spend your money on pretty things!” She chuckles as we head out.

“She’s killing me with this damn wedding,” he admits.

I can imagine. It’s his second marriage, but it’s Cat’s first. Between the loss of her father and the fact she can barely stomach her mother, the wedding is being held at a vineyard in Virginia. I’m Jackson’s best man, and Ashton, Catherine’s best friend and my former conquest, is Catherine’s maid of honor. We’ve become close friends once we realized we should never try to date. I can’t wait to see that fiery redhead again. At least I won’t have to try to score a bridesmaid if I bring Charlie.

“You should’ve just eloped. Given her less of a chance to realize what an idiot she is for saying yes.”

“Dick.”

“My offer still stands to officiate. Lee and Liam were very happy with my services.”

Jackson laughs while he shakes his head. “You’re a moron. Catherine got a legitimate minister.”

“I’m legally a minister.”

“Did you want to keep talking about how holy you are or did you want to know what I found?”

I have a feeling the news Jackson is about to deliver won’t be good. So, I decide to get the one thing I’ve been debating for a while out in the open. “Before we get into it—” I pause.

“Yes?”

“I want to make you a deal.”

Jackson stops walking and then crosses his arms. “This oughta be good.”

He has no clue where this is going. “If we figure out who’s behind all this—if there even is a real
this
—I’ll buy into Cole Security Forces. We’ll go half and half and I’ll become your partner.”

Jackson extends his hand, and I take it. “Deal.”

“Now, tell me what’s in that file that you didn’t want Charlie to see.”

“Just how much do you care about her?” Jackson rebuts, and his tone tells me all I need to know.

This is bad. This is going to fuck everything up.

Charlie

“Y
ou boys were gone awhile.” My suspicions are ringing loudly. They went for a walk two hours ago. Two hours is a very long time to stare at the waves. It’s also a very long time to hear about a wedding.

Don’t get me wrong—I like Catherine. She’s really nice and was more than accommodating. But I know they weren’t just checking out the surfing. I’d have much rather gone with them and gotten some answers.

“There was a competition,” Mark explains with a smile. “Did you miss me?”

“I won’t next time.” And I don’t mean longing-wise. His ass is grass.

“Oh,” Catherine says. “That’s right, we were planning to watch it today and tomorrow, but I completely forgot.”

“That’s what happens when you become an old married couple,” Mark jokes.

“Whatever, ass.” Catherine throws her jab at Mark before turning her attention to Jackson. “Charlie and I were getting hungry and were going to order dinner, but I figured we could take them somewhere by the water.”

Jackson smiles, wraps his arms around her waist, and then places his lips on her forehead. It’s so intimate I have to look away. “Sounds great, baby,” he says as if she’s the only woman in the world.

I look back over at them as Catherine rests her head on his chest. “Mark, are you still surfing?”

Mark slowly nods his head. “Yeah, when I’m home. I went not too long ago.”

“I didn’t know you surf,” I say, drawing his attention.

Mark comes so close I have to tip my head back to meet his intense eyes. I draw in a deep breath, inhaling the salt air that clings to him. He always smells like fresh air. “I’ll take you out tomorrow.”

“Umm . . .” I step back. “No thanks.”

“It’s fun.”

“Have you
seen
the news? People get eaten. They lose limbs. I like my limbs.”

His grin grows and his eyes glimmer. “They only eat the tasty ones. So maybe you shouldn’t go.”

My jaw drops at his innuendo.

“Idiot. I don’t do the ocean. I like the beach but not the water.”

Mark smirks. “I’ll protect you.”

I laugh. “Not a chance in hell.”

Jackson and Catherine stand off to the side, watching us argue—as usual. Mark can take me from perfectly calm to ready to shoot someone in no time. Infuriatingly stubborn and maddening man. I want to hate him so much, but he makes that damn near impossible.

“Oh, come on. Sharks are just misunderstood. They want to be friends, cuddle a little, or maybe it just wants a hug.” Mark is enjoying this a little too much.

“And maybe it wants an appetizer.”

Mark chuckles. “There are far more meaty options for them. You’ll be with me.”

“I’m not going.” I stand my ground.

“This is like dinner and a show.” Jackson speaks up.

“Right!” Catherine laughs. “They’re worse than us.”

Jackson replies, “I know, but my money’s on Charlie.”

“Mine too,” Catherine says.

Mark and I both burst out laughing then he pulls me close. I try to shove my way from his grasp, but his strength doesn’t allow it. I need to work out more. Or go back to Jiu Jitsu so I can take his ass down. Jackson and Catherine head out the door and Mark leans in so only I can hear. “I would never let anything hurt you on land or at sea. Trust me.” He kisses the side of my head and releases me.

I stand there for a second, unable to move. What do I say to that? Because the truth is . . . I don’t think he’d hesitate. He’d protect me with his own life if that’s what I need. It’s who he is, and I need to realize how special he is before he decides I’m not worth the chance.

The evening goes off seamlessly. I enjoy spending time with Jackson and Catherine. The more time passes, the more I understand that Jackson could never be behind any of the issues at his company. His loyalty and dedication to his men comes first and foremost. You can see the emotional strain he’s under. However, I catch the look that passes between him and Mark. Their walk wasn’t just a stumble upon a surfing contest. I let Mark think he threw me off, but he didn’t.

“We’re heading back tonight,” Mark informs Jackson, which is news to me. I guess he doesn’t feel like sharing his plans.

That’s fine. I don’t feel I need to inform him of mine either.

“Why don’t you guys stay at least tonight?” Catherine asks. “As much as I love California, we never see our friends.”

“See, Kitty misses me.” Mark wraps his arm around her shoulder and she groans.

“Not you.”

“Admit it,” he taunts playfully.

“Nope.”

“Fine. I know the truth.”

“I feel bad for Charlie. Being stuck with you on a plane for an extended period of time would be enough to make me contemplate jumping.”

Mark’s eyes dart to mine as a grin spreads across his face. “I think Charlie likes having me as a travel partner.”

I hate that I have these moments of weakness when I warm to him. But then, he effectively takes care of that by reminding me how much I should hate him. “I’ve had better flights, buddy. You were . . . decent.”

His grin falls slightly as he studies me. “I’ll be sure to change that word for you this go.”

Jackson lets out a loud guffaw. “You’re totally fucked, dude.”

I decide to keep my mouth closed. If I provoke Mark, it’ll only backfire. There won’t be another round, though. This time, I’ll lock the damn door.

We say our good-byes and head back toward the airport. I will say that flying this way is a hundred times better than commercial. I can see why Jackson keeps a private plane for himself and his staff. Plus, there are times they need to get out quickly and can’t wait for a flight—especially with their luck lately.

Throughout the car ride, I try to figure out the tie between Mazir and Cole Security Forces. I spent an absurd amount of time studying him, his family, his links to terrorist organizations—which is vast. How does Jackson and his team fit? I can’t make the connection. Yet, I know there is one.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” Mark asks. It’s the first time he’s ever called me that.

“I’m contemplating who, other than me, wants to destroy you and your friends, and why.”

He takes my hand in his and places it into his lap. “Let me worry about that.”

“Isn’t this why you called me in the first place?”

“Nah.” He smiles. “I just wanted to see you again. It had been too long since I had someone to spar with.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you and I know that’s not the only reason.”

Mark mindlessly rubs the top of my hand. “I’ll figure it out. I have some ideas.” He glances over with an emotion in his eyes that I can’t place. It’s not suspicion, but he’s not as clear as he was before. It’s as if he’s erected a wall inside himself, closing me off to whatever he’s thinking. I’m not sure what to make of it.

Before I can dissect it too much, we arrive at our plane. We board easily, thanks to the ease of flying private, and take our seats. The silence between us feels heavy. It’s not like earlier when it was comfortable. This feels ominous.

My gut tells me there’s something brewing. But he takes my hand again, and it helps anchor me. His touch reminds me of what has transpired between us—also, how quickly it seems to have disappeared.

Could Jackson have said something? I know they’re keeping something from me, which pisses me off and raises my red flag. Jackson, on the other hand, doesn’t know me. He knows I’m an operative. I’m a professional liar. I can con, talk, and bullshit my way out of almost anything. There’s reason to distrust me, if I’m perfectly honest, but Mark has never exhibited a lack of trust. I hate what I’m about to do, but I can’t forget my end game.

Once we’re in the air, I decide it’s a good time to start talking.

“Mark,” I murmur. “What happened on your walk?”

He rolls his head my way. “Nothing happened.”

“You’re lying.”

He sighs and rests his head back against the seat. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay, then what was said?”

He opens his eyes but keeps his gaze at the ceiling. “We talked about some of Jackson’s concerns about getting hitched again. He was married before, lost his wife, it’s been a lot of shit for him the last few years.”

That makes sense, and Catherine confided that he’s been especially stressed. Still, there’s this nagging part of me that insists that’s not the whole story.

“So, nothing about the nature of the company?”

“I agreed to become partner.” He finally meets my gaze.

“Oh?”

“He’s been up my ass about it for awhile. I told him once we get everything under control, I’ll come on as part owner. Why are you asking?”

I lift the arm bar between us so I can get closer. I need all of his attention, and all of his mind focused—elsewhere.

He’s about to find out just how manipulative I am.

Mark watches me with narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t stop me. I slide closer and release his hand. He glides it around behind me and presses against my back. I’m forced to put my hands on his chest to keep myself from falling. He doesn’t let me stop there, though. He leans down and pulls my leg so I’m straddling him.

He’s making this too easy for me.

Our bodies press together as he keeps me secure. “Mark,” I purr.

“Shut up, Charlie,” he says before he grips my neck, pulls me to him, and kisses me.

I keep hold of my control because this kiss has to be mine. This one is a means to an end. All of this is. I need information, and I’ll screw it out of him if I have to. I glide my tongue across his lips, but he resists me. My head is being held tight—I’m at his mercy.

I know he feels me fighting him. My hands push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. After a moment, his lips part and allow me in. That’s when his hands move. He cups my ass, lifts me, and before I know it, he’s standing, carrying me back to the bedroom. I want to cry. For the first time in my life as a spy, I wish I could abandon my mission. I realize, right now, that I would forsake it all for someone like him.

“What are we doing?” I ease the pressure of our kiss to speak against his lips, but return my mouth before he can answer.

Mark keeps me in his arms effortlessly. He kicks the door shut with his foot, walks toward the bed, and gently lays me down, causing my heart to kick into overdrive. I can do this. I have to do this. I will get the information I need at any cost. I’ve never done this, though. Sure, I’ve toyed with men, but never like this. Not with one I care about.

“You underestimate me, beautiful,” Mark says while undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“What?”

He stalks toward the bed. “You think I can’t see.”

“You sure like to tell me what I can see and can’t see.” I rise up on my elbows.

Mark climbs onto the bed and hovers above me. “Tell me, do you think I’m an idiot?”

I lie back and slip into my mind where nothing can touch me. He can’t even get close, because this act is for information, not pleasure. “No,” I reply. “I hate how you make me feel. I hate that you make me want you.”

His smirk falls as his head descends toward my lips. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he shifts his face to the side, his warm breath tickles my ear. “You’re going to hate a lot more than that, princess.”