Falcon Falls Security Boxed Set: Books 1-3, page 45
“I think we need to focus on the wife,” Carter suddenly said, drawing Jesse’s attention. “Someone wanted her dead for a reason, and not just because she was Zoran’s wife. And they didn’t want it to look like there was a second shooter or that she’d been specifically targeted.”
It wasn’t shocking Carter had put forth that hypothesis since his own wife had been the real target of a “home invasion gone wrong” years ago.
“If someone wanted it to appear as though you took both shots, the second shooter couldn’t have been positioned too far away from you,” Carter said, leaning back in his chair, eyes set on Jesse.
“I didn’t have time to sweep the area for the second shooter. I had to get out of there before Zoran’s security pinned me down,” Jesse said, feeling the need to explain why he hadn’t searched for the hidden sniper.
“That also means the second shooter may have seen you, even if you didn’t see him,” Oliver noted.
“Or her,” Sydney said.
Jesse peered at Sydney, wondering how many people she’d taken out over the years when she’d served in the Army prior to joining her father’s business.
Sydney had proved rather lethal with the bow and arrow, not exactly a method used in Iraq, so there was . . . that.
“Or there was someone from Bulgarian Intelligence out there that day to put eyes on you,” Carter added, which had been an idea Jesse and A.J. had floated that morning. A potential traitor who may have or might eventually leak Jesse’s name to Zoran.
“I needed a clean line of sight to take the shot, so my face wasn’t masked for the hit,” Jesse told his team, revealing why he had concerns Zoran might be able to discover his identity.
“I think we need to look at the hit from another angle as Carter’s suggesting.” A.J. circled the table and stood alongside Jesse, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle.
“We may be dealing with someone out there who doesn’t want the truth coming out about a second shooter or the fact they most likely tipped off Zoran.” Jack shifted on his stool and faced A.J. “Two problems to tackle: whoever sent the second shooter for the wife and Zoran’s revenge.”
More danger for Ella. Jesse turned to the wall and set his balled hands against it, trying not to drive both fists through it in front of his team.
“I’m surprised your boss didn’t raise that point,” Gray said, a subtle hint that maybe Thatcher wasn’t to be trusted.
“Thatcher wants me back, not dead.” Jesse shook his head. “I trust him.”
“Sometimes, we give our trust to the wrong people. People we’d never think would betray us,” A.J. said, and Jesse whirled to face his friend, feeling a bit gutted by the comment. A.J. held up a hand. “That wasn’t a dig at you, Jesse.”
“If Thatcher didn’t bring up a second threat, it’s because he doesn’t believe there to be one,” Jesse added, turning away from his best friend to focus on his new bosses.
“Well, I’m not ruling out the idea of two potential problems.” Carter’s penetrating dark eyes landed on Jesse. The man was a shrewd motherfucker, and not a big fan of the Agency. He was likely wondering which side Jesse’s loyalties lay—Thatcher or Falcon—but there was no question in Jesse’s mind that he was done with the Agency.
“What about Zoran’s son, Nikola? He’s only ten. We should have eyes on him. With Zoran back from the dead, or you know, out of hiding, it stands to reason he’ll want to be with his son.” As the only parent on the team, Jesse wasn’t surprised it was Sydney to raise that point. “He was pulled from his boarding school when his parents were shot, and he’s been living with his godparent, Zoran’s brother.”
Gray looked at Sydney, his gaze always a bit more intense whenever he watched her. “I suspect the CIA or Bulgarian Intelligence already has eyes on the son and uncle, but we should as well.”
Sydney focused on her screen. “They’re in Hallstatt, a small town in Austria.”
“Was the uncle involved in the family business with Zoran before the hit?” Jesse asked. “I’ve never been all that privy to the details about my marks. I just handled the, uh, elimination.”
“Zoran’s brother moved to Hallstatt once he became guardian,” Sydney began, “but he may have been given orders to lie low and protect Zoran’s son until further notice. I would assume he had to be somewhat involved in the operation.”
“Usually, criminal enterprises like that are family-oriented,” Carter said. “So, we’ll check it out. But from what I can tell, he wasn’t Zoran’s right-hand man, and that person is rumored to be running things in Zoran’s absence from a new location. We’re working to find him as well.”
“I doubt Zoran would risk going to his brother’s place for his son until he’s handled his mission of revenge,” Jack said. “He has to know he’d be walking into a trap if he went for his son now.”
“True, but I’ll send some of my guys who are already in Europe to Hallstatt just in case,” Carter agreed. “And where are we at with the background check into the Rochella family?”
Jesse focused on Griffin when he began sharing his research into the Rochellas. His thoughts momentarily drifted back to Ella’s studio, remembering the way Henry Rochella had looked at Ella yesterday.
He had a feeling if Ella hadn’t announced she was getting married, the billionaire planned to hit on her in Paris. Doesn’t mean he still won’t, he reminded himself, which meant he needed to keep an eye on that man for more than one reason.
“So, no red flags?” Jesse asked upon a sigh after Griffin had finished his report on the Rochellas.
“I need more time to say for sure, but it doesn’t look that way,” Griffin responded with a firm nod, then Griffin’s attention shifted to Savanna on approach from the hallway.
“Jesse, can I steal you for a moment?” Savanna crooked her finger and angled her head, beckoning him to join her.
Knowing she’d been with Ella and now needed to talk to him had his heartbeat ramping up as he walked through the open doorway to meet her where she hung back in the hall. “She okay?”
Savanna looked toward the guest room. “I think you should go in there. She’s, um, not okay.”
Jesse hung his head and brought his hands to his hips. “Does she want me to?”
“You should go in there regardless.” When Savanna placed her hand on his chest, he looked up and nodded.
“Okay.” He waited for Savanna to leave, then walked past the room Chris and Rory had been staying in and to the last bedroom in the hall, opposite the master.
He hadn’t slept at all last night. How could he with everything going on? But also, knowing Ella was just a few steps across the hall had him pacing the length of his room. He’d braced his hands on the frame of the bedroom door, fighting the urge to go to her last night.
Jesse tested the knob to see if it was unlocked, then slowly opened the door. Ella was in bed beneath the plush white comforter, but her iPad was propped up next to her. He hadn’t anticipated she’d be watching a movie.
Leaning against the doorframe, he folded his arms and studied her as she ignored him for at least a good sixty seconds, knowing damn well he was there. “Shouldn’t you be picking out flowers or bridesmaid dresses or something? Selling the idea of a real wedding to your mom before she gets suspicious?”
Ella paused her movie and sat up, clutching the comforter to her chest. Had she changed into something too revealing?
He remembered the nightshirt she’d had back in New York before she’d tossed it to give him an eyeful of her luscious breasts. And if she was wearing anything remotely similar now, he was screwed.
A.J.’s in the kitchen, he chanted to himself to keep from going in, hauling her into his arms, and doing all the wicked things that were currently working through his mind.
“Why would I care about a bogus wedding?” She brushed her fingers through her sexy bed-head hair with one hand while maintaining a death grip on the comforter with the other.
“The wedding was your idea, darling. We can call it off. So long as you tell your parents after I get the hell out of Dodge, so your dad doesn’t take his shotgun to me.”
He’d hoped for a smile, but instead, the frown damn near devastated him. It wasn’t the best idea, but he decided to go inside and shut the door behind him.
“Don’t call me darling,” was the response she’d gone for instead of acknowledging the rest of his comment. Maybe she was okay with her dad using his shotgun on Jesse. “Don’t call me anything, in fact. I don’t know you, and maybe you don’t know the real me either.”
Jesse scoffed. “Bullshit. And you know it.” He rounded the queen-sized bed and stood off to the side, keeping his eyes steady on her, noticing the way the comforter kept rising and falling in time with her deep breaths. “I know everything about you.”
“Well, I’m trying to learn more about you.” Her gaze flicked to the iPad. “You’re not exactly an open book, and I expect you’ll keep your trap shut. Like always.”
“What are you talking about?” He set a hand to the bed for support and leaned over her, side-eyeing her as he did so to see what she was watching.
She remained nearly ramrod straight on the bed beneath him, her head falling back to the pillow with him so close.
And then she gently shoved at his chest. “Too close for comfort, buddy.”
Buddy, huh? He pushed himself upright and stepped away from the bed.
“I googled assassin movies. I’ve been alternating between Denzel and Keanu flicks. Denzel counts out the seconds he’ll need to take a life before he kills someone in the movie I just watched. You did that back at the club in New York before you knocked that guy out in the bathroom, didn’t you?” She was rambling and talking too fast for him to follow it all. “Keanu’s character wasn’t CIA, but still . . . assassin, so.”
“Movies aren’t reality. Not my reality, at least,” he spoke up once it was clear she wasn’t finishing her sentence. “I’m not like the guys in either of those films.”
“Have you seen them? How do you know?” she quickly remarked.
“Of course I’ve seen them. And no, I’m not like them.” Okay, maybe a little more like Denzel’s character, sure. But Keanu’s? No.
“Why’d you join? Why’d you leave the Army to work for the CIA as a hitman?”
He stared into her beautiful blue eyes, and his chest hurt so damn much. “You don’t want to know why.”
“Meaning, you won’t tell me.” She shook her head. “Then tell me when you officially left the CIA.” Her brow creased as she waited for a response, and he knew his answer would only create more questions.
“July of last year,” he admitted.
“What day?”
Shit. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead for a moment before finding her eyes again. “July fifth. That was the day I left.”
Ella looked over at her iPad for whatever reason before returning her attention to him. “Keanu’s character left for love. But then she died. And well, someone killed his dog, and he started killing again. Are you going to start killing again? Because of me? Are you going to become an assassin again?”
He sat next to her, unable to stop himself, but he refrained from reaching for her. “I told you I’m never going back to the Agency, but what I do with Falcon now . . . may result in the loss of life. I can’t make promises I won’t kill again.” He had every intention of killing Zoran and anyone else who posed a threat to Ella. “You need to stop watching these movies. They’re messing with your head.”
“The only one messing with my head is you.” Her words and the sadness in her tone had him reaching for her hand on instinct, but she pulled her palm free of his touch.
The sudden movement caused the comforter to slip down, revealing a skimpy white tank top so sheer that he could make out her breasts perfectly.
All thoughts of movies and assassins fled from Jesse’s mind, and he was now solely focused on his desire to set her on his lap, rip that flimsy material from her body with his bare hands, and fucking worship her breasts.
Was she wearing panties? She’d told him at the hotel in New York that her normal bedroom attire was a tank top and panties. Or just the panties.
He dropped a hand over his crotch and hoped she didn’t notice the erection pushing against his jeans. Fuck.
“Cover yourself up,” he said in a deep, commanding tone. His mind was still playing out the next seconds. And this time, it wasn’t to hurt someone. No, he was calculating what he would do to this woman. How long it would take for him to make her scream his name. To finally be able to devour her pussy like he’d wanted to three years ago and make her come with only his tongue.
“Does it make you uncomfortable seeing me like this?” Her silky tone and the provocative way she spoke had his balls tightening, and he pressed down on his cock with the heel of his hand, trying to control himself.
Jesse slowly slid his gaze from her tits to her full mouth and then to her eyes. “You know what you’re doing to me, Ella Mae,” he gritted out harshly.
“Then let’s get that kiss out of the way. It’s meaningless to me, but if you want our first kiss to happen in private before our last one in public tomorrow, then so be it.”
Oh, this woman. She was evil right now. Tempting. But the little vixen had every right to torture him. And hell if he didn’t find himself getting off on her attitude. He’d need to relieve his tension, so he didn’t punch a wall after this.
But damn that mouth. Such a naughty girl. He could see it wrapped around his cock. See her on her knees with his fists in her hair while she took every inch of him.
“Kiss me. Get it over with.” She was using anger to hide her nerves, and he knew it.
“If a kiss is so meaningless, why wouldn’t you let me do it in New York?” He gave his aching cock one firm squeeze over the material of his pants, and he didn’t bother to hide what he was doing.
Her eyes latched on to the movement, and the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lush lips.
“Why didn’t you let me spread your legs and swipe my tongue along your p—”
“I hate you,” she bit out, equal amounts of lust and loathing burning brightly behind those blue eyes.
“I know you do, darlin’.”
“No more calling me darling,” she snapped. “Just kiss me and get it over with. I—I don’t want to make this a big deal.” She jerked a thumb toward the iPad. “And I have important things to do. Like learn more about you.”
“Kissing you will be a big deal. There’s no way around that, darlin’.”
“Oof.” She shoved at his chest, and he captured both wrists with one hand, trapping her in his hold. He peeled the comforter down farther to confirm his guess.
“Red lace panties.” He eyed the strip of fabric between her legs, his breathing quickening.
“You know I hate being hot.” Ella struggled to pull free of his hold, but he cocked his head and stared at this wild, passionate woman.
He’d just begun to slide his finger up along the inside of her silky thigh when the bedroom door burst open.
“Oops, sorry!” Deb Hawkins had impeccable timing.
Ella quickly drew the comforter up to her chin, and Jesse stood, pocketed his hands, and faced his future fake mother-in-law.
“I’m so sorry. Why didn’t they tell me you two were . . . in here together?” Ella’s mom swiped both hands over her blushing cheeks, looking slightly scandalized. Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “But why do you look more like your dog died and you wanna kill someone than, well, you know?”
She directed her such-a-bad-timing comment toward Jesse, and he did his best not to glance at Ella for her reaction to her mother’s words.
“We’re good,” he forced out, teeth clamped as he tried to will away his erection.
“Are you sure?” Deb’s gaze moved to Ella for confirmation.
“Absolutely,” Ella forced out.
“Well.” Deb clapped. “Then get up and prove to me this wedding isn’t a sham and that you actually want to walk down that aisle tomorrow. I need your help, sweetie.”
“A sham?” Ella coughed. “Of course it’s not.”
Jesse turned to the side to peer at Ella, and he could tell she was working hard not to shoot him a menacing look.
“Also, why does your kitchen look like a T-O-C?”
“A T-O-C?” Jesse blinked in confusion.
“TOCK?” Deb strung the letters together this time and spoke the acronym. “Tactical operations center? Or something like that? That’s what they call it in those military movies, right?” Deb’s hands went to her hips, and the last woman in the world, second to Ella, he wanted to piss off was this particular Hawkins.
“Oh, um.” Jesse smiled. “My team took a new security job. They came down here so they can work around the, uh, wedding. It was unexpected.”
“Suuuure.” Deb closed one eye and cocked her head. “What’s really going on? I’m Southern. Not slow.”
“Nothing, Mom.” Ella shooed her away with her free hand. “Mind if I get dressed before I go with you? I don’t think my future husband would like me to walk around in front of his teammates in a tank top and underwear.”
No, no, her future husband would definitely not like her walking around like that. Too many single men out there. It was bad enough any man other than him had set his eyes or hands on Ella in the last three years.
Anytime he thought about Brian having sex with Ella, he’d had to patch another hole in one of his walls. But it was that or shoot Brian.
“I think you two should wait to”—Deb took her two index fingers and linked them together—“do the sex thing until your wedding night. I’m assuming you two have already done it before, but you know, maybe wait for the next time.”
“Mom.” Ella cupped her free hand to her cheek, her face heating up.
“Just think about it. It’s only one more night.” Deb shrugged. “Now, get dressed. I need your help. Lots more to do and no time to do it. Skedaddle, Jesse. If you stay in here while she gets changed, I have a feeling those clothes will come back off.” She twirled her finger in the air. “Now, you look less like a killer and more like a lovesick puppy.”
