Page 149 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
I stride toward her, my shoulders sitting higher than they were this morning, my walk cocky. I grip the back of her slender thighs, coercing her legs to wrap around my waist. When they do, her sweet-smelling pussy heats my cock. I rock my hips upward, dragging my erection through the material clinging to the folds of her wet pussy. When her mouth falls open, I slip my tongue between her pouty lips. I nip, lick, and explore her succulent mouth like it's the first time I’ve sampled it.
We kiss for several minutes, the heat in our exchange enough to keep the country warm through a prolonged winter. Once I'm happy I’ve inspected every scrumptious portion of her mouth, I inch back until my forehead rests against her, and her beautiful chocolate eyes are peering down at me.
“That’s a proper good morning,” I greet her with a wolfish smirk. “And it’s how I plan to greet you every day from here on out.”
My smirk enlarges to a full grin when I place her back onto her feet. Her wobbly strides as she makes her way into the bathroom has me wishing I hadn't made the promise I did years ago. Alas, I am a man of my word. I told my brother I'd forever have his back. I plan to keep my promise.
Isabelle’s nervous fidgeting becomes more apparent the closer we get to Megan’s family residence. Hugo is driving my car with Isabelle and I sitting in the back seat. Hunter and Brandon are following behind us in Hunter’s van that’s stacked with the best computer equipment and surveillance devices money can buy.
When Hugo pulls my car into a long dirt driveway, Isabelle’s panicked eyes rocket to me. “When we show you the information we gathered yesterday, I need you to remember Jenni and Jasper are safe and unharmed.” Her voice is surprisingly smooth considering how hard her hands are shaking.
My eyes shift to Hugo, who’s eyeing me with caution through the rearview mirror. “Did you discover anything that would warrant the authorities being called in?”
Hugo nods. “Yes, but Isabelle and Brandon agreed they wouldn’t call it in until your security team was first given access to it.”
I run my hand along my jaw, tracking the tremor there. “This won’t keep your hands sparkling clean, Isabelle.”
“I know, but I love you,” she replies without pause. “Wouldn’t you get your hands a little dirty for someone you love?”
Her words impact me more today than they did the first time I heard them. Because this time, they weren’t said during intimacy. She said it because she truly means it.
When the car comes to a stop at the front of a derelict farmhouse, Isabelle scoots across the leather seat to clasp my hand within hers. “I trust that the man I’ve fallen in love with will handle this in an appropriate andlegalmanner.” Her eyes dance between mine. The moisture in them sets my nerves on edge. “You're not the man your FBI file says you are, Isaac, so I'll trust that you'll uphold my beliefs on that.”
I take a moment to ponder her statement. Like any good myth, the reality barely corresponds with the fabricated fiction, so I’m confident my police record is full of half-truths and misrepresentations of who I am, but, even so, I’m a protector. It’s who I am. Nick is my responsibility. He's my blood. He gave me the gift of life, so it's my job to protect him from any potential threats just as I’ll protect Isabelle from Col and Theresa. To me, there is no difference.
“I protect what’s mine, Isabelle.” My tone is as surly as my mood is becoming.
Isabelle’s shoulders hunch forward as a sigh spills from her lips. “I know that, Isaac, but there arelegalways to handle this. The Bureau or even the local sheriff’s office could assist with this.”
“Like how they handled my arrest?” A vicious snarl forms on my face as my anger transcends. “Theyillegallydetained me for hours while they barbarically destroyed my house under the legality of a warranted search the Judge signed off on under false pretenses. Are they really the people I should seek out during a crisis?”
When Isabelle shifts her focus to the passenger window, I force her eyes back to mine via her chin. “Answer me, Isabelle! Are they truly the people I should trust?”
“Those people are me, Isaac! I’mthosepeople.” As her eyes bounce between mine, they’re dangerously close to spilling the moisture flooding them. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”
Needing to escape before I say something I’ll regret, I swing open the door and curl out. “Please stay in the car. You’ll be safer here.” My tone is firm, but my suggestion still comes out as a plea.
My jaw muscle tenses when Isabelle snubs my suggestion by pushing open the back passenger door to step onto the dirt driveway, mumbling something about not being a child.
“One thing at a time, Isaac,” I murmur to myself while joining Hugo at the front stairs of a rundown house.
The pain weighing down my chest intensifies when Isabelle twists her body, so her back is facing us before her hands dart up to scrub across her cheeks with a sense of urgency.
“Boss…”
I shoot Hugo a wry look, stopping him mid-sentence. “I’ll fixthatafter I handle this.”
During the ‘that' part of my statement, I nudge my head to Isabelle. I hate the way I'm acting, but I need to focus on one task at a time. I’m juggling so many things at the moment, mistakes are bound to happen if I don’t start being more cautious.
Hugo’s thinning lips reveal his annoyance, but he nods all the same. He’s aware of the mammoth tasks I’m undertaking as he’s part of most of them. As I shadow him up the farmhouse steps, I absorb each unique feature. It reminds me of my dad’s house before he renovated it. He’s very much like Nick—stubborn to the point of being annoying. No matter how many times I offer to buy him a more suitable house, or to pay for his renovations, he always refuses my proposals. “You don’t spend anything you haven’t earned yourself,” he commonly quotes.
“Give Brandon and me ten minutes to clear the premises before you and Hunter enter,” Hugo requests when Hunter’s van pulls in next to my town car.
I nod. “You have five minutes.” The longer I'm here dealing with this, the longer it’ll be before I can repair the mistakes I made with Isabelle.
The house is cleared by Hugo and Brandon in under three minutes. A lack of floor space aided with their staunch search. The inside of the house needs even more repair than the outside. It's rundown and old, smelling like a garbage truck that's on the brink of retirement.
Hugo gestures his head to a rickety stairwell on the left. We climb them shoulder to shoulder, which isn’t the smartest thing we’ve done this week. It barely looks capable of holding my weight, much less Hugo’s.
