Raylin lifts her head. “It’s personal. I told you.”

“But you didn’t kill anyone.”

“Maybe I didn’t kill anyone, but I did shoot at them, and my dad and brother did wash their hands of it.”

Fuck. “This has to be a trap.” Two millionaires and the girl they’re after. What could go wrong, right?

Hawk reads my mind. Not hard to. “I’ll have back-up. My bodyguards will be following us. And my men in the police force have been tipped off. We’ll be fine.”

He has men in the police force. Of course he has.

I ran away from this shit. Hawk has embraced it. This is starting to feel like a surreal dream.

“Fine. We’re all going.” I throw my hands up. “It’s gonna be a blast.”

This finally gets Hawk to grin. “You’re drunk.”

“Not possible,” Raylin says. “You drank all the wine.”

“Did I?” His grin widens. “Well, then.” He lifts his glass. “Let’s end this shit once and for all. And then…” He drains his glass, stares at it thoughtfully. “And then we’ll deal with the family clusterfuck.”

***

Hawk gives us one of the guest rooms. I crawl into the king-size bed, still dressed, no energy left to take them off. Raylin turns off the light and burrows into my uninjured side, puffing a small, warm sigh on my shoulder.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispers. “All of this.”

“The mafia thing?”

“Mafia and secret organization detective work. Champagne in the car, helicopter rides, hotel suites.” She swallows. “Me, being here with you.”

“You’ll always be here with me,” I say. “Until you get fed up with me.”

“I’ll never get fed up with you.”

I can almost hear the pout and it makes me laugh. I feel so light with her. “Wait until I start leaving my dirty clothes around the room.”

“Wait until I start leaving my gun parts around the room.”

“Holy shit.” I shift until I manage to put my good arm around her. “I was rather hoping you’d leave your lacy bras and panties lying around. So I could steal them and live out my fantasies.”

“With my underwear? Why, if you can have me?”

“Good point. Then, I guess, you’d better stay with me.”

The giggle or sigh I expect never comes. She’s quiet. A quiet Raylin worries me.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I kiss the top of her head. “What did I say?”

“You say…” Her breath hitches, and my worry goes up a notch. “… all the right things. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s still hard to believe…” I gather her closer to me, feeling her tremble. “Believe…”

“That we made it this far?”

“That you can love someone like me.”

“Oh, baby.” I close my eyes, drawing her scent in so deep nothing can ever take it from me. “You got that wrong. It’s the other way round. It’s hard to believe you could love someone like me. But I’ll work on it, you’ll see.”

***

The day passes in painful lurches—shower, redressing the bandage on my leg. Breakfast. Checking guns and choosing one for Raylin. Lunch. Sitting around, too stressed to talk. Waiting for the light to start fading.

The flight back to the city feels much shorter than the way out.

Then again, my head is clearer today, and my arm doesn’t feel as if someone is chewing it from the inside. Sure, showering and getting dressed without wetting the sling and the bandage on my leg was a bitch, even with Raylin’s help.

But what the hell. That’s nothing compared to what’s up ahead. Somewhat bigger things, like meeting the Chinese mafia, make this morning’s troubles seem like a child’s worries.

Raylin fairly vibrates with tension as we climb out of the chopper and into the car waiting for us. Hawk has arranged for everything, which rocks. Yesterday I was pretty much useless.

“Thank you, man,” I tell him when he takes his place riding shotgun as we’re off.

“What for?”

“Doing all this. For me, and for her.”

He tsks. “She’s your girl. Can’t let anything happen to her. She’s family now.”

I pretend not to see how her face goes from open-mouthed to smiling, and then she hides it against the window.

Damned Hawk. A heart of gold in that guy.

True to their word, the lawyers pulled strings—strings I’m not even sure I wanna know about—and have a briefcase full of money ready for me. Mr. Shin is the one holding it, his face dark as a thundercloud. Excellent first impressions for the heir and new head of Jordan Enterprises, huh?

And this is just the beginning.

Hawk steps out and retrieves it before I as much as open the door and returns to the car. “Let’s go,” he barks at his driver, and we’re off once more.

“Where?”

“Suburbs.”

“Where, Hawk?”

Despite my gratitude, it grates that he has full control of this operation. Especially when he doesn’t reply. Okay, it’s his operation basically—his man setting this up and making sure this works out.

Still.

Fuck.

The gun hidden under my dress jacket, in a back-holster, does little to set my mind at ease.

We meet up with Hawk’s man behind a run-down fast-food joint. Hawk rolls down his window and asks him where the meeting will take place.

I stare at the guy through my closed window. There’s nothing remarkable about him. He’s not shabbily dressed, but not well-dressed, either. Clean T-shirt, dark jeans, black shoes. Shaved. Short hair.

Nothing to show he’s involved with the triad.

Then again, neither is Raylin. Or Hawk, who obviously has important ties to it. Need to ask him about that.

Meanwhile, the man points at the main street and Hawk rolls up his window.

And we’re off again.

I’ve taken the sling off and my arm aches. But no weakness, remember. So my cast is snug in the sleeve of my dress jacket.

Raylin’s hand clenches around mine as we roll down the main street, and I resist the urge to put my arms around her. Not the time to show any weakness. We don’t know who might be watching.

We stop at the mouth of another alley with a flickering lamp post shedding yellow light, and Hawk throws his door open. Following his lead, we follow suit and step out of the car which drives a few yards away and rolls to a halt, waiting for us.

Broken glass crunches under my shoes. I scowl at the dirty alley. A set-up. Has to be.

Need to trust Hawk to get us out of this alive.

Three bulky guys stalk toward us, Asian eyes, black leather and beefy arms. Awesome. They take their time reaching us, talking to each other, laughing over something. It sets my teeth on edge.

I’m ready for just about anything bad to happen as they come closer and the jut of gun handles in their belts become visible.

I feel the gun in the back holster, pressing into my ribs. I see Raylin reach for the belt strapped to the small of her back and stop herself.

Hawk only smirks and opens his hands. “Evening, guys.”

One of the men lifts his chin and steps in front of the others. My hands twitch, almost reaching for my gun when he grabs Hawk’s arm.

But it’s a greeting, apparently. Not an attempt at murder. The guy steps back again, and I glare at him.

Christ.

Then he turns to Raylin, and my hackles rise again. “Raylin O’Brien. We meet again.”

Wait. Again?

“Who are you?” she asks, her voice steady, and yeah, that’s my girl. So strong. “Have we met before?”

“Sure we have.” He shrugs off his leather jacket, and damn this guy’s gonna give me a heart attack. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath, and even in the dim light I can see the scar of a gunshot in his shoulder. “Wanna touch it?”

My arm twinges in sympathy. Then my brain catches up.

This is the man she shot. Goddammit.

Hawk thrusts an arm in front of me, as if knowing I’m about to launch myself at the guy, push Raylin behind me and take on the whole triad, if need be.

“We hunted you for two years,” the man says. “I hunted you. You were scared.”