3
Mustique opened one eye and quickly closed it as the pounding in her skull caused her to wince and hold her throbbing temple.
“Ah, I see you’re awake.” The deep unfamiliar voice in her room had her reaching for the weapon strapped under the bed frame. Coming up empty, she turned over, ready to take on the mysterious voice up close and personal if she had to. Her breath died in her throat as she glimpsed the man who’d appeared in more than one of her B.O.B.-induced sessions over the last few months.
“Ash? Why are you here?” Her mind whirled as she tried to figure out why in the hell he would be in her hotel room in Tampa.
He strolled closer, his movements loose but controlled in a way that only military men were, and fuck if it wasn’t the sexiest thing. “I see you have a bit of a brain fog there, Marisol,” he said with a smirk.
Her eyes swung to his gorgeous hazel ones, her brain stuttering as she noticed the folded arms, emphasizing his thick biceps and the two full sleeves of ink he had. Quickly she shook her head to clear the cotton-wool feeling. “How do you know my name?”
He moved to stand in front of her, and she found herself eye level with his crotch and the thick bulge there. Ash smirked as he followed her line of sight. “Because, Mari, you told me after I stopped you from getting arrested for harassing some old guy and his mistress in the restaurant. And to answer your question I have a family wedding here, so quit worrying that I’m stalking you.”
And just like that, everything came flooding back. The drinking, the date, why she was here—all of it, and most especially Ash rescuing her and being held in his arms. A feeling of safety she barely remembered hit her square in the chest, along with an unfamiliar rush of embarrassment at her weakness. Mustique looked away. “Any chance we can just forget about everything that happened and you leave and never mention this again?”
“No, but you look like you need a coffee and some food. So, why don’t I call down for that, and you can take a shower and get yourself feeling more like a human again.”
The softness of his voice, coupled with the thoughtfulness, caused a lump of emotion to form in her throat. If she didn’t get out of there, the tear was going to slide down her face. “Uh, yeah, thanks.”
Mustique avoided his eyes as she stood and moved toward the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Looking in the mirror, she saw the bloodshot, swollen eyes, pale, pasty skin, and hair sticking out like witch in a windmill. Wow. She’d gotten wasted last night, but it was the only night of the year she allowed herself to think and grieve for all she’d lost.
Pain lanced through her like a physical blow, and, for just a moment, she wanted to open the door, walk into Asher’s arms, and let someone else take the burden of her loss. But she couldn’t; nobody could ever know her secret. So, she did what she always did and buried it deep under all her bravado and sass. The only way for her to survive was to be Mustique. Marisol Van Der Byl had to go away, so the pain didn’t swallow her whole.
As she brushed her teeth, she recalled the previous night in her mind and realized she had messed up. Accosting the man at the table had been a mistake, since he wasn’t the real source of her anger.
No, that fucker would be at the fancy wedding being held at this hotel later. She just needed to get close to the bastard and find out precisely what he’d planned, so she could protect the Senator’s daughter. That was her only goal.
Mustique stripped and stepped into the cold shower, hoping the freezing temperature would wipe the fog and fuzz of alcohol from her brain. As she cleaned herself up and shampooed her hair, she began to feel normal again. For once, the thrill of the chase wasn’t at the forefront of her mind as she began to plan how she would take this man down.
First, she needed an invite to the wedding, and she had a feeling the man on the other side of the door could help her with that, but whether he would without asking questions was doubtful. Could she ask for his help and admit she needed someone or did that make her vulnerable to a degree she was uncomfortable with? Only one way to find out because come hell or high water, she would not fail this mission.
Stepping out from under the water, she wrapped a towel around her body and then used a smaller one to rough dry her hair. Ash being there had never occurred to her, which proved how off her focus was. She knew he was a SEAL, and the groom was a SEAL, but hadn’t really thought about it. The fact she was doing this alone, without the rest of her team knowing, didn’t help. She could have used Pax with her knowledge and contacts. Or Astrid and her ability to get into anywhere with barely a ruffle. Mustique was too angry and growly. Mustique would sooner be alone than have to talk to anyone. She didn’t like people and struggled to make friendships and connections because of her trust issues. In truth, she was fucked up, and she didn’t think that was going to change anytime soon, so she’d stopped trying.
Except for a select few, most humans sucked. Her team and her friends at Fortis were all she needed, but even they could never know why she was on this lone mission to take out a Senator. Except now she was in a position where she had to ask Ash for help, instead, but even that was better than her friends finding out what she had done.
Pleased to find he’d closed the bedroom door to give her privacy, she pulled on underwear and then a dark purple flowy sundress. It gave her full range of movement and allowed her to conceal more weapons than pants did. Pulling her hair into a sloppy bun, she took a deep fortifying breath and assumed the mask of her own making before opening the bedroom door.
Seeing his shoulder twitch as he poured himself a coffee before twisting toward her, she braced herself for the sight of him. Asher Thompson was panty-melting gorgeous. Tall, and muscular, with dark-brown hair and hazel eyes tinged with whiskey gold. Two full arms of ink that she could see most of below the sleeves of his shirt. An arrogant, cocky grin full of confidence that promised he could follow through on every wicked thought in her head.
He was a distraction, had been ever since he’d kissed her last year when he’d visited Daniel. It had taken everything in her to walk away when all her body had wanted was for him to throw her against the wall and fuck her until nothing existed except the pleasure she knew he could give her.
“If you keep looking at me like that, neither of us will be leaving this room.” His voice had gone deep and raspy with desire, and it made her nipples bead with longing for his touch.
Coughing, she reminded herself why she was here, and her focus returned. Taking a cup of coffee, she moved to the window and peered out, without putting herself in direct line of sight of a sniper.
“You know, I never noticed it before, but now that I know who you are, I can’t believe I missed it. I guess it’s true, people see what they want to see.”
Mustique’s spine stiffened at his words. Did he know who she was? What she was? Schooling her expression, she turned slowly. “And what does that mean?”
Ash let a humorless chuckle past his lips. “Don’t, Mari. I know who you are, what you do—Daniel told me. What I don’t know is why, and something tells me that’s the most important question of them all.”
His use of her real, shortened name, the one her parents had used, tore a wound through her, and yet she didn’t correct him. She didn’t know if she was tired or getting sick, but she wanted to be that girl for him—the one she’d been before her life had been turned upside down and she’d become an assassin. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and she was sure he could see it hammering in her chest. “Why are you here if you know what I do? Doesn’t it repulse you?”
Ash stepped close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin, and she fought the urge to lean in. “You don’t scare me, Mari. I see you. I see what is in here.” He tapped a forefinger to her chest above her heart, setting off an explosion of sparks. “What I don’t understand is what is up here.” He tapped her temple, and she stepped away from his touch, breaking the spell.
“What is in my head or my heart is none of your concern.”
“Hmm.”