Deadly Liaisons. Elle James
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“People love their ghosts and legends,” Gabe said. “Supposedly, this house is haunted.”
“Shh.” Molly pressed her finger to full, luscious lips and winked. “You’ll steal my thunder. I’m telling the legend as part of the event.”
Nova found himself wishing he could press his lips where her finger was. He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to be enthralled with a woman. As soon as he could catch a plane, he’d be on his way back to D.C., to headquarters to see what his boss, the head of SOS, had up his sleeve for his next assignment. Perhaps it would take him to another part of the world.
The more he moved, the better. It was all part of his plan to stay ahead of his demons. Stay busy and don’t stagnate. New places, new people, new assignments involving lots of action helped him to forget.
Creed leaned close to Nova. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”
His jaw tightened. “How could you tell?”
“One minute you’re staring at a pretty girl, the next, your face gets darker and your eyes narrow. You’re scaring the locals.”
Nova made a conscious effort to maintain control over his face and expressions. No use bringing everyone down just because he couldn’t forget what happened two years ago.
As easily as slipping into the shower, Nova slid into the past. He and Sophia Cardeña had been swimming naked in a spring-fed pool surrounded by the jungle. He’d been deep undercover for four months and had fallen for the drug lord Alfonzo Cardeña’s daughter he’d been using as his in. His liaison with Sophia had smoothed the path to the leader’s confidence and allowed him inside the compound hidden away in the darkest jungles of Bolivia.
At first he’d faked being in love with the beautiful Sophia. But after being in her presence and learning that she was as innocent as her father was corrupt, Nova had fallen for the dark-haired beauty.
Unfortunately, on their way back from the pool, through the trees and bushes, Nova had pulled Sophia to a stop. He’d twirled her around in front of him and kissed her. Knowing he’d be leaving soon, his intelligence-gathering mission coming to a close, he didn’t want things to end between them. He’d made the mistake of daring to dream he could have a life with a woman in it.
The DEA would have taken over with the information he’d compiled and sent back to SOS. He’d been about to ask Sophia to go with him, to get away from the jungle, claiming he had to make a trip back to the States to visit a sick grandmother.
He’d prayed she’d go along with him and trust his lie until he had her away, and before the DEA moved in and the war on drugs commenced.
Only, the bullets started prematurely. When he’d turned her around in front of him, the loud crack of a rifle shot split the air.
Sophia fell against him, her eyes wide with her surprise, her mouth open on her last gasp.
The bullet had gone straight through her heart. Within seconds, she was dead, her hand in his, dragging him to the ground.
More bullets flew overhead. Though he’d covered her body with his, it had been too late.
One shot. That was all it took.
“Want a shot?” Creed nudged him, holding a bottle of tequila and a glass in front of him.
Nova pulled himself back to the present, the coppery scent of Sophia’s blood still clinging to his memories. “What?”
“I asked if you’d like a shot of tequila, but you were obviously somewhere else.”
“I’m back.”
“Good, because for a moment there you looked ready to kill. You really aren’t here tonight, are you?”
No, he wasn’t, but he’d wallowed long enough. A drink might take the edge off the painful memories. Just one wouldn’t impair his driving skills. He nodded. “Nothing a shot of tequila won’t cure.”
Before Creed could pour the shot, Tazer reached across and placed her hand over the shot glass. “No way. He’s driving me to the airport tonight. I need him sober.”
“Right.” Creed set the empty shot glass on the table. “Not all of us are staying for some R and R.” He glanced across at his fiancé, Emma Jenkins. “Thankfully, I am. And I know I can use a few days of downtime.”
Molly moved away from their table and back to the crowd on the other side of the room. “If you all are done, I’ll bring out dessert and we can begin with the legend of McGregor Manor.”
The group of young and older people set down their forks and knives and offered up empty plates to Molly.
When she teetered under a stack of dishes almost as big as she was, Nova leaped to his feet and offered to help.
“No, no, I’ve got them,” she said, her face pink from the strain.
“Yeah. I can see that.” He took half, his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shot of adrenaline skimming through his body, and something more. Awareness—powerful, hot and completely arousing.
Molly’s eyes flared, the green irises darker, the color in her cheeks deepening. Had she felt it, too?
Rather than drop the dishes and explore this phenomenon further, Nova gathered the remaining plates from the nearby tables, stacking them on top of the ones he’d taken from Molly, and followed her into the kitchen.
“You can set them beside the sink. I’ll wash them later.” She waved a hand toward the sink, refusing to lock gazes with him.
He moved around the center island, close enough to touch her, but avoiding contact. Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid his body’s reaction to being alone with Molly.
As directed, he set the plates on the counter beside a sink full of water frothing with suds.
Molly washed her hands, making even that routine action sexy. Then she gathered a large tray of key-lime tarts and hurried backward through the swinging door into the dining room.
Left to himself in the kitchen, and too turned on to risk reentering the dining room with his friends, Nova scraped the leftovers off the plates into the trash can, rolled up his sleeves and started washing the enormous stack of dirty dishes. His mother had always said empty hands were the devil’s tools. For some reason, he was on edge and in need of something to keep him busy. Maybe a little mindless dishwashing would calm him.
He was halfway through the plates when Molly entered, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back with coffee.”
When she spotted him, she yelped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, my. You scared a year off my life. What are you still doing in the kitchen? You’re a guest.”