A slice of heaven, after hell.
He’d wanted this place for so long.
Saxon turned and strode for the door.
But now he actually wanted something—someone else—more.
When he opened the door, he saw that Vanessa was collecting her bag and preparing to leave for the day. She paused when she saw him.
“Mr. Laurent?”
Another fake name. Maybe one day, he’d get used to it. “I’m looking for Ms. Meadows,” he said.
Vanessa’s eyes widened and she smiled a little. “She’s in the tasting room.”
He immediately turned toward the left. “Thank you.”
“I, um, didn’t realize that the two of you were…an item.”
Saxon stilled.
“Oh, gosh, that was too personal, wasn’t it?” Vanessa blurted. “I crossed a line, I’m so sorry. Sometimes, I just don’t think before I—”
He glanced back at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” We’re definitely an item.
Her tremulous smile came again. “Th-thank you.”
After giving her a little nod, he strode down the hallway. He hadn’t confirmed or denied that he was involved with Elizabeth. He was trying to play the gentleman for her, and yelling to everyone that they were lovers—well, that probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly move ever.
And it had sure as shit been hard to keep up that gentlemanly front when Sloan Quest had been edging so close to Elizabeth. Sure, the guy knew PR and he was an expert when it came to the wine business, but Saxon had wanted to shove the man across the room.
Saxon reached the tasting room. He paused a moment and took in a deep breath. Don’t jump the woman. Keep some control.
He pushed open the door.
Wood gleamed all around the tasting room. Heavy, tall wine racks. Small, sputtering candles set the scene. He’d ordered those candles, earlier, when he’d wanted to toast with his new staff.
Staff. I have f**king staff now.
Elizabeth was at the bar. She turned toward him.
I have everything now.
He stared at her a moment, lost in the sight of her. Did she even know all the strings Victor had pulled so that Elizabeth wound up there—with me?
Everything had been set up, everything manipulated so that he could be with her. To protect her, hell, yes. But…more.
“M-Michael?”
His new name. One that he didn’t want to hear from her. He shook his head and very deliberately shut the door behind him. “It’s just us.”
Her back pressed to the bar. His gaze swept over her, from those sexy shoes up to the silken expanse of her legs, then up, up to the curving br**sts that thrust toward him. His gaze finally settled on her face.
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And if she knew all the things he’d done, she’d probably run screaming from him.
I can’t ever let that happen.
He took a step toward her. “When we’re alone, call me Saxon.” Because he liked the way his name sounded when it came from her.
He took another step toward her.
Elizabeth seemed to tense. “What if someone comes in?”
“Then I might f**king fire them.” Because he needed to get his hands on her. She had no clue how bad the last two weeks had been for him. The doctors hadn’t cleared him to travel at first—he’d had to wait and stay away from her for too long.
“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth whispered, shaking her head.
Oh, but he would.
He stopped when he was right in front of her. His hand lifted and brushed back the locks of her hair that had slipped over her cheek, then his fingers slid under that soft curtain of her mane as he tilted her head back. “I need a taste…”
Not of wine. Of her.
Her lips parted and his mouth closed over hers. This kiss wasn’t frantic. Wasn’t wild. Because he was trying to show her that he could be more. So much more. For her.
He licked her lower lip, then his tongue thrust inside of her mouth. She gave that little moan—yes—and she arched toward him.
But he still kept the kiss controlled. Sensual, but not desperate. He savored her. He caressed her. Even when his erect c**k shoved at the front of his pants, his hold on her was light—just his hand, holding her through the curtain of her hair.
He kissed her. He licked.
And he wanted so much more.
That was why he finally stopped. His head lifted so that he could gaze down at her.
Elizabeth’s eyes blinked open.
“You taste better than the wine.”
Her tongue slipped out and swept over her lips. “So do you.”
She did not play fair.
“Let me take you home,” he said. Because if he didn’t. He just might wind up f**king her there. Right in that shiny new tasting room. He’d had the place remodeled when he took over, and it had turned out just as he’d hoped.
I can have everything I want now. Provided, that Elizabeth stayed safe.
Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you offering to take me home…as my lover? Or as my FBI guard?”
“I’m doing it as both.” Because that was what he was. Guard and lover.
“We’re safe here,” she said. It almost sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of that. “In this perfect place you’ve made, we’re safe, right?”
“With me, I promise, you’ll always be safe.”
Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I believe that, you know.”
Because she trusted him so completely.
“But you can’t take me home, I came in my own car.” Her smile stretched and tempted him to smile back at her.
So he did. “In that case, I’ll follow you.”
She nodded.
I’ll follow you any damn place.
***
Victor strode out of the prison. As soon as she saw him, Tracy hurried forward. “Sir?” Tracy called. “How did it go?”
She’d been cleared—after the FBI had ripped her life apart. They hadn’t turned up any sign that she’d been working with Gary. No bank transactions, no unaccounted absences, no whispers of impropriety at all.
But we thought Gary was clear, too.
Victor’s bosses had insisted he put Tracy back in circulation, provided, of course, that he kept one very close eye on her.
“It’s going,” he said simply. He didn’t want to tell her about Zoe Peters. He wasn’t going to tell anyone but Saxon about that woman. Because Saxon is the only one that I trust one hundred percent.