“Now it’s your turn,” he said quietly.

There was no way in hell she was admitting that she also thought of him while touching herself. It would make him too smug. “Okay. I don’t think I ever told you, but the reason I joined the Marines is because when I was nine, I had a sort of crush on one of my mom’s boyfriends.” Iris snorted at the memories. “He was the only decent man she ever dated and she ended things with him because, and I quote ‘he’s too nice’.” Iris hadn’t understood her mother then and now that the woman was deceased, she still didn’t. It was like her mother had intentionally gone for the assholes. As if she liked being treated like dirt. Iris finally realized that she’d had no self-esteem, but it didn’t make sense to her. “Anyway, this guy was a little older than my mom by about a decade. He’d been in the service for twenty years and he bought me a kitten.”

Wyatt frowned at her last statement. “I don’t remember you ever having a pet.”

“It’s because my mom made me get rid of him. She actually made Hank take Mr. Buttons when they broke up.” That was when Iris realized that getting attached to people or things was a waste of time. Well, Wyatt had been an exception. When they’d become friends at ten years old, she had to make the exception. He’d just pushed his way into her life, trying to look out for her even though he was just a kid himself trying to avoid beatings from his old man. Her mom might have been a terrible role model, but her home had at least been a safe haven for Wyatt.

Wyatt didn’t say anything, just watched her thoughtfully so she continued. She stabbed a bite of pancake and stared at it as she spoke. “At the time he was the only decent man I’d ever met. So I just knew that being a Marine was a big deal, something important. And I was determined to become one myself. My mom always said that was stupid, that I should marry one and let him take care of me.” Iris shrugged again, but the action was jerky, not casual as she’d intended. Her mom’s stupid ideas of letting a man take care of her had only made Iris even more determined to become a Marine, to be able to take care of herself and defend herself from anyone. Everything she’d learned in the service, no one could ever take that away from her. Her skills were now a part of her and she treasured them.

Wyatt was silent for a few minutes, just watching. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, but she couldn’t meet it. Finally he spoke. “If you don’t eat that pancake I’m calling dibs.”

His words dispelled the melancholy she always felt when she thought of her mom. They also inspired another thought. Without thinking, she brought the fork to his lips. He looked surprised, but took the bite.

Her eyes strayed to his mouth, watching the way he chewed, the way his throat worked as he swallowed. Heat bloomed between her legs as she imagined his mouth and tongue working her. “I like watching you eat too,” she whispered.

Wyatt pushed out a rough breath. “You’re going to make this no-sex thing impossible, aren’t you?”

She grinned and snagged another bite for herself. “Not any more than you’re going to make it for me.”

* * * * *

His shoes were silent along the hospital corridor. Not that it mattered. He didn’t look out of place wearing his stolen doctor’s scrubs. Still, he resisted the urge to look at his watch. He had three minutes max to get in and get out.

The lone nurse talking frantically on the phone behind her desk didn’t glance his way as he slipped into Sato’s room. It was past visiting hours, but the ICU had a few holes in their security—and he’d created one very big one in the ward next door by creating a distraction.

Hospitals didn’t take bomb threats lightly, especially not in the NICU. It had been risky, but all available personnel had been called away including the guards to Sato Tora in the neighboring ICU. Or he really hoped they had been. He’d waited to make sure her room cleared out then doubled back, but it was still possible that someone remained in there.

A couple smoke bombs placed very strategically and the entire ward had panicked. Most people wouldn’t have had the balls to do what he was doing, but he wasn’t most people.

Something Wyatt Christiansen would soon find out. He’d been putting up with the other man’s bullshit for long enough. He never should have hired someone to take care of what he could do himself. It had just seemed cleaner at the time.

Now he had to kill Sato. She hadn’t talked to the cops or he’d be in jail right now, but he couldn’t take the chance that she eventually would.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the quiet room. Luckily the lights were off and the curtain was drawn around Sato’s bed, giving him enough privacy. If he was really lucky, Sato wouldn’t even wake up.

Things would be very tidy that way.

Clenching his gloved hands, he prepared himself for what he had to do as he opened the closet door and pulled out an extra pillow. He’d killed before. But he’d never taken the life of a woman. It wasn’t like he had a choice though. And she was just a paid assassin anyway. God only knew how many people she’d murdered for money. He was doing the world a favor.

As he neared the edge of the curtain, he could see Sato patting the sheet, no doubt looking for the call button. Even though he’d been quiet, she’d still heard him. Her hands were chained to each bedrail though, making movement difficult. The clanging sound of metal on metal seemed over pronounced in the room.

Sorry, sweetheart, he thought, but remained silent.

“Who’s there?” Sato’s voice was slurred. They clearly had her drugged up. He hadn’t been surprised when he’d heard she’d wounded herself while in holding. She might have wanted it to look like a suicide attempt, but he knew better. She’d be trying to escape as soon as the drugs wore off.

When he stepped from the shadows, Sato blinked a few times, as if she couldn’t make him out. That was fine with him.

“How’d you get in here?” she asked hoarsely.

Before he could change his mind, he shoved the pillow over her face.

With surprising strength, she managed to grab his forearm and dig her fingernails in. She couldn’t move much because of the chains. She held on tight, clawing into him like daggers piercing his skin, but the cutting pain was nothing compared to what would happen to him if she talked. For all he knew she’d try to cut a deal with Interpol. That was unacceptable. He leaned his weight into his hands and pressed down as hard as he could over her nose and mouth.

Sato thrashed around, her legs flailing as she struggled to fight the inevitable, but in the end she lost. Sweat broke out across his body from the strain of holding the pillow in place. After what seemed like an eternity, her lean body completely stilled against the starchy sheets. As he lifted the pillow, he made himself look at her face. Blank, dark eyes stared into nothingness. Just to be certain he tested her pulse, but he knew a dead body when he saw one. Moving quickly, he put the pillow back in the closet and slipped out of the room as quietly as he’d entered. Time was ticking down.

As he reached the elevators and door to the stairs he still didn’t breathe easy. Glancing at his watch he saw that three minutes had passed. He had maybe two minutes before…nope. Time was up. Two men in police uniforms hurried down the hall in his direction. Keeping his head down and his stance as casual as possible considering the circumstances, his insides tensed until they passed. He wouldn’t have much longer until they discovered the body.

The elevators were on lockdown because of the bomb threat so he pushed open the door to the stairwell and sprinted down the steps. When his hand hit the emergency exit door, an ear-piercing alarm went off. He quickly stripped off his doctor’s scrubs to reveal the casual jogging shorts and T-shirt he’d worn underneath. After stripping off his gloves, he retrieved his mp3 player from his pocket, shoved his gloves back in place of them, then put the earbuds in even though he didn’t turn it on. He needed an excuse to be running so as he fled out into the bright sunlight, he just looked like a man out for a run.

One down, one to go. And his next kill would be much harder. Unfortunately he knew there would be some collateral damage. He’d wanted to avoid that, but he couldn’t get to Wyatt directly so he’d have to find another way. Other people were definitely going to die. A small price to pay for his revenge.

Chapter 11

He traced the serrated edge of the knife down Mario Vélaz’s ribs and side, careful not to break the skin. Sometimes the threat of pain was worse than the pain itself. So many people didn’t understand that. Especially the thuggish mobsters he owed money to. Torture definitely had a purpose but if done wrong, the information gained was often unreliable. Beneath the blade, his victim shuddered and tried to pull away, but had nowhere to go.

Tied down on the concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse that had gone into foreclosure as so many other buildings in Miami, Mario was trapped and at his mercy.

“You’ve had weeks to give me something of value and because of your incompetence I lost the company I want.” He would also lose a lot more than that if he didn’t come up with the money he owed his financial backers. And he’d been counting on that deal too. If it hadn’t been for Christiansen that hack-proof software would be his and he’d be able to give that instead of money to those fucking mobsters. God, what had he been thinking, borrowing money from them? But he’d been desperate and the banks had refused him.

“What the hell did you expect of me!” Mario shouted, sweat rolling off his face.

He’d expected results. He hadn’t just hired Sato to kill Christiansen. He’d managed to blackmail one of the groundskeepers from the home Christiansen had bought in Miami. Mario had come with the house and wasn’t part of Christiansen’s long term staff. Those people were untouchable and he didn’t have much money to bribe anyone with anyway. Not after he’d paid Sato. All he’d had to do was threaten the safety of Mario’s wife and young daughter and the guy had crumbled, agreeing to spy for him.