Surrender to Me (24 page)

They stepped from the truck, and Tyler jogged down the exterior stairs to greet them. “Hi, baby. I got your suitcase from the back of your car.”

“Thank—” She frowned at the green-eyed beefcake in the killer tight black tee. “How did you get into my trunk without my keys?”

Tyler smiled smugly, then turned to Hunter. “I talked to Jack. He’ll be by to get her tomorrow night.” Then his grin turned sly. “That is, if she still wants to go.”

Hunter lunged into Tyler’s personal space, then growled, “Let’s get one thing straight: Kata is not your ‘baby’; she’s my
wife
. You don’t touch her. You don’t even
think
about touching her. Or I swear to God, I’ll rip your face off.”

Really, Hunter had nothing to worry about. Tyler was attractive . . . but her life was complicated enough.

Tyler looked amused. “Possessive much?”

“Focus on the fact that someone wants to kill Kata. I get that other men’s wives turn you on, but—”

“I’ll make sure he’s all bluster, Hunter.” A familiar guy emerged from Tyler’s apartment, with dark, shoulder-length waves that would seem feminine on another man. On him, it looked drop-dead sexy as he sauntered down the steps into the morning light.

“Luc Traverson?” Kata stared, stunned. “Wow, I love your cooking show!”

And he was even more gorgeous in person.

“Thank you.” He extended a hand to her. “Great to meet you. You’re Hunter’s wife, Kata?” At her stilted shrug, he drawled, “My deepest sympathies.”

“Funny.” Hunter didn’t sound amused as he glared at Luc. “You’re here because . . . ?”

Kata frowned. “How do you two know each other?”

The two men exchanged a glance, and she knew something was up here. Finally, Luc nodded. “Kimber’s husband, Deke, is my cousin.”

He
was cousin Luc? Wow . . .

Tyler snorted. “He and Deke used to share
everything
.”

Did he mean . . . ? From the looks on everyone’s faces, yes. Kimber and Deke and Luc? Kata’s jaw dropped.

Luc cast a sidelong glare at Tyler. “Shut up.” Then he turned back to Hunter. “I’m here because I know the hell of wondering if you’re wife is screwing this asswipe.” He jerked a thumb at Tyler. “I wouldn’t put anyone through it. I’m happy to babysit until I have to start prep for tonight’s dinner service at Bonheur. Besides, Alyssa is wrapped up in Sexy Sirens’ rebuild, despite being thirty weeks pregnant. So my very curious wife sent me to collect the juicy details about your marriage.”

“Thanks for staying with Kata for as long as you can.” Muttering a curse under his breath, Hunter glanced at his watch, then winced. He turned all his formidable attention on her, his face tight with regret. Damn if just being near him didn’t make her tingle from head to toe. Damn if he didn’t make her feel everything for him, even when she didn’t want to.

“I’ll miss you, honey.” He layered his lips over hers.

So often, Hunter had kissed her with possession and overwhelming passion. He was always like a cat-five tornado barreling at breakneck speed for the protective walls around her heart, frightfully eager to mow them down. Now he was like a wisp of smoke, so light she almost wondered if she was imagining the kiss. All too quickly, her lips began to tingle, like they did after eating her
abuelita
’s homemade salsa. But this sensation couldn’t be cured with cold milk. Hunter just impacted her. And this kiss, so tender, hit her right in the chest.

For her, there really was something about him—both incredible and terrifying.

Needing more, she leaned into the kiss, opening to him, fingers digging into his shoulders. She trapped a whimper at the back of her throat.

With a caress of his knuckles down her cheek, he eased back, then gripped her face in his hands with a desperation that further crumbled her defenses.

“I’ll be back soon,” he murmured. “I promise.”

“Be safe,” she choked on a whisper.

After another lingering kiss, he strutted down the steps to the blacktop parking lot already giving off shimmering heat waves, despite the fact that it was just after nine a.m.

Watching him go hurt. Kata realized that he’d been reassuring her that no third world asshole would prevent him from coming back to her. It hit her then . . . Hunter had an incredibly dangerous job. Worse than a cop or a firefighter. He was knowingly walking into a fight with people who wanted to kill him each and every time he stepped into his role. Fear quivered in her belly, and she had to fight herself not to call him back. She doubted that she and Hunter were meant for the long haul, but if anything happened to him? God, she’d crumble and die.

Why?

A taxi arrived to take Hunter away. He waved, and she watched until the ugly yellow and black vehicle rolled out of sight.

As soon as it disappeared around the corner, Tyler put a hand under her elbow and smiled. “Why don’t you come inside and make yourself comfortable, baby? We’ll find some way to have fun.” He winked at her, then glared at Luc. “Even with the third wheel.”

AFTER a quick trip through a nearby drive-thru for a burger and a stop at the video store, Kata settled beside Tyler on the sofa as he cued up their movie.

“When I said cuddle up on the couch after Luc left, this isn’t what I had in mind.” His pained expression said he’d rather be boiling in oil. “Are you really going to make me watch this?”

Hot, funny, attentive without being overwhelming, Tyler was everything she normally went for in a guy. Sure, they’d flirted. It was like breathing for him, both constant and automatic. But she wasn’t feeling a serious vibe between them—which was a relief. Usually, she loved flirting, too, but Hunter had invaded every last brain cell and filled it with thoughts of him.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” Tyler reached for the remote.

She yanked it out of his hand, then had to laugh at his mock pout.

“I love Edward and Bella. Have you even seen any of the movies?” she challenged.

“Hell no. She looks constipated, and I swear he plays for the other team.”

Kata stifled a laugh. She really shouldn’t encourage him. “It’s called angst. Guess you’ve never felt any.”

Tyler leveled a hard stare on her that told her she was dead wrong. Then he saved her from muttering an awkward reply by starting the movie. She stifled what she’d planned to say, since his life was none of her business and she was in no shape to be giving advice. Instead, Kata focused on the familiar Bella Swan voice-over that began the film.

About halfway through, he shuffled into the kitchen for popcorn, and Kata noticed that while it popped, his stare barely left the screen. Pulling one of the sofa’s throw pillows to her chest, she smiled.

“Oh, come on,” he groused. “Helen Keller and Stevie Wonder could both see this love triangle coming. And this movie made how much money?”

Kata threw the pillow at him. “Shh!”

“Don’t shush me, woman, or I’ll take you over my knee.”

She froze. “You roll that way, too? What am I saying? Of course, you do. You’re friends with Hunter.”

And didn’t she feel stupid for failing to figure it out sooner?

A frown creased Tyler’s face. “Roll what way?” He frowned, then shook his head. “Oh, Hunter is into the BDSM thing. Control freak. No, that’s not my thing. I leave that to him and Jack Cole.”

“The Jack who’s coming to get me tomorrow night?”

“One and the same. He’s one cool customer, man. And his wife is a doll. You’ll like Morgan.”

“Because she’s . . .” Kata searched for the most flattering words so she didn’t insult a woman Tyler obviously admired. “Easy to get along with?”

Had Jack erased Morgan’s personality and replaced it with that of a “yes, Sir” kind of woman?

Tyler howled with laughter. “Morgan, easy to get along with? I made that assumption once. She nearly strung me up by the balls. That’s one scary woman when she’s pissed. Even Jack is smart enough to steer clear of her then.”

Kata wasn’t sure how to interpret Tyler’s words. If her mother tried to assert herself, Gordon found a thousand not-so-subtle ways to tell Mamá that she was wrong and her “tantrum” ridiculous. But when
he
got mad . . . watch out. But Tyler made it sound like Jack heeded his wife’s moods, rather than belittled them. Was that the norm in a BDSM marriage, or just Jack and Morgan’s?

It didn’t matter. As much as she had feelings for Hunter, as much as they were explosive between the sheets, she didn’t belong married to someone she’d met less than two days ago, who could wring both her body and her heart inside out.

She needed to talk to someone. To Mamá, who always understood her.

“Hey, um . . .” she called to Tyler. “I’m going to take a pee break.”

Thoughts whirling, she headed down the apartment’s lone hallway to the bedroom, which was pure masculine—heavy woods, comforter striped with three shades of brown and a touch of black. Guns everywhere, along with a dizzying array of electronic devices.

Kata found her suitcase in the corner and dug into it.
There
was her cell phone charger. The damn phone had died early this afternoon, and she’d been unable to fish it out under both Luc and Tyler’s watchful gazes.

“Want me to pause the movie?” he called back.

“No, I’ve seen it, so I won’t be lost if I miss a bit. You go ahead.”

With Tyler occupied, maybe she could sneak in a quick, whispered call. Yeah, Hunter had told her that her phone was traceable, but it seemed far-fetched for most anyone outside of a government agency to have access to that kind of technology.

As soon as she plugged the phone in, she silenced the device. Text messages and voice mails started pouring in. Mari, Chloe, Hallie, Ben. She knew what they had to say before reviewing the messages. Sure enough, Mari wanted to know if she was all right after the shooting and if she’d gone insane, marrying a man she’d only just met. She’d insisted that Kata call immediately and bring Hunter around for dinner on Sunday
.
Clearly, Chloe and Hallie hadn’t yet heard about the shooting because they only wanted the deets on how hot he was in bed. Ben . . . was hurt and confused and angry. And she didn’t blame him. He’d tried to give her the birthday present of her fantasies, and from his point of view, she’d stabbed him in the back. Definitely, she owed him a return call . . . and some sort of explanation.

Another voice mail popped up from an unfamiliar local number. Kata listened to this latest message. When she first heard the woman’s wheezy, scratchy voice, Kata frowned in confusion—until the caller identified herself as Mamá.

“
Mija
, I heard that someone shot at you.” Concern laced her voice. “Please let me know that you are all right. Gordon is on a trip and took our phone, so I am calling from my neighbor’s.” She coughed, a long string of hacks resounding from deep in her chest that made Kata wince. “Sorry. Gordon says I suffer from allergies, and he is probably right.”

“If that’s allergies, I’m Bigfoot,” Kata whispered, worry toxic in her veins. Her mother’s chest rattled with every breath.

“He left me some ibuprofen and decongestant, so I will be fine soon.” Mamá paused to cough for another long spell. When she resumed speaking, her voice sounded even weaker. “Come by as soon as you can,
Mija.
I love you.”

As her mother hung up, she began coughing again. Panic raced through Kata. Her mother had bronchitis—or worse. Damn Gordon for being too blind or self-centered to care that Mamá might truly be ill. He’d left her with no car, no phone, and probably no money. In his mind, if she went nowhere, spoke with no one, and did nothing, why would she need it? The bastard knew well that Mamá’s dependence on him made her weak, and nothing gave him a hard-on faster than bending someone to his mercy.

She clutched her phone and tried to decide what to do. Mamá had no way to call a doctor, and she wouldn’t have lingered at the neighbor’s. It would only piss off Gordon if she made a “scene.” Mamá should call Mari, but since her older sister was now a mother herself, Mamá didn’t want to make Mari’s life any busier.

For now, the only way to truly assess how sick her mother might be was for Kata to see her herself.

Kata dropped the phone and reached for the bedroom door. She didn’t know much about Tyler, but he’d been reasonable so far, friendly. Surely, if she explained the situation, he would help her. That seemed logical . . .

Except that Tyler had already refused to take her anyplace she usually visited, like her apartment. His point that the bad guys could have all her usual haunts staked out was well taken. And Tyler’s first allegiance wasn’t to her but to Hunter.

Gripping the knob, Kata froze. What if Tyler didn’t agree to help her? He wouldn’t simply let her go. And all his banter aside, he was very capable of keeping her both safe and sequestered. She had no doubt that if he refused to take her to Mamá, she’d never be able to escape his watchful eye.

Mamá had no one else to help her. Mari was reluctant to help Mamá, since she didn’t want to “help herself” by leaving Gordon. Besides, on Mondays, her sister would be doing some pro bono work in Baton Rouge with several of her colleagues. Her sister’s husband was home with the boys, up to his eyeballs in homework and soccer practice. If she sent Tyler alone, her mother would refuse to answer the door for fear of Gordon’s reprisals. Mamá needed her.