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  A tear of blood slid across the portrait. Colt grimaced. He set it back down and left.

  ****

  A few days later, Colt sat in the pew at the back of the church. The minister’s voice carried though the space, like the insistent buzz of a bee. Colt kept his head bowed, and his lips moving silently as he pretended to pray for the soul of the man lying in the coffin at the head of the church. His hands rested on his lap, his fingers laced together to avoid the nervous twitching.

  He’d never done this before. Coming to the funeral of a man he’d killed. What the fuck was he thinking? He was a hitman. He killed for a living and never, ever looked back. Not this time, though. She was here. The girl from the picture. Grace Moretti.

  Ever since he’d caught sight of her in her father’s office, he’d been unable to forget her. It was like one of those itches you just couldn’t scratch. He’d tried to ignore it at first by hitting the strip club and searching for a substitute, but nothing compared to Grace. Her blue eyes and her golden hair reminded him of an angel. Untouched. Pure. Beautiful in its innocence.

  He’d gone home frustrated, but soon a plan had started to form. Instead of fighting the obsession, he’d embrace it.

  Almost as if she were his next target, he’d investigated her. Name. Marital status. Social Security number. Medical records. Everything. Colt had discovered that when her parents had divorced she’d gone to live with her mom in California and was still there. She worked as a social worker, counseling and aiding individuals in prison. She was well-off, but she led a quiet life, radically different from her father and sibling.

  His gaze darted to the front. Grace had her head bowed, her golden hair hiding her features from him. At her side sat her brother, Bruno. Dark-haired, stocky, and looking grim. Colt noticed the man sitting to his left. By the size of the fellow, he guessed it was Bruno’s new bodyguard.

  The businessman—to call him something—hadn’t wasted any time in finding protection. Colt rolled his eyes. As if that would help him. If his boss wanted him dead, Bruno would be mincemeat by the end of the week. He hoped he’d learned whatever lesson Colt’s boss was trying to teach him and it wouldn’t come down to it.

  Suddenly, the church grew silent and people started to move. Colt waited for everyone to get closer to the flower terrace. This was his chance to meet Grace. Speak to her. Touch her. He made his way to the front. His chest tightened. His insides quivered with an excitement he hadn’t felt since the first time he shot a man at the age of sixteen. He licked his lips.

  He passed by the casket, nodding at the closed lid in salutation, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from Grace. She held a woman’s hand, accepting her condolences. Then it was his turn. He offered his hand, hoping his palm wasn’t too sweaty, too cold or too hot. Grace slid her palm into his. He grasped it, firmly. A current of pleasure traveled through his limbs. In the quiet buzz of the church, he heard her sharp intake of breath. She glanced up at him, eyes questioning. Her lips parted, and he couldn’t stop the image of them opening wider, taking in the girth of his cock.

  “I don’t think we’ve met before.” Her voice was soft, sweet, with a degree of intimacy which only drove his fantasy further.

  “I’m Colt,” he managed to say. He frowned, uncertain of what else to say, but desperate to cause a good impression.

  The sound of a loudly vibrating phone stole Grace’s attention from him and bought him time. She scowled and turned to her brother.

  “Bruno, please.”

  Her sibling glanced at his device.

  “Take care of the people. I gotta take this.”

  He motioned for one of his bodyguards to follow him and walked out of the church, all the while whispering into the phone and gesticulating wildly. Grace sighed and looked at him again. Her gaze dipped to their hands, which were still entwined. She smiled at him. Her features lit up as if the sun had suddenly decided to shine within the house of God.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “How did you know papa?”

  A heavy weight settled in Colt’s stomach. Papa. She must have been close to him if she called him that. I killed him. The truth danced on the tip of his tongue. Harsh. Cruel. Real. Bloody. Life wasn’t pretty. But she was.

  “We worked together briefly,” he said instead.

  “Thank you for coming today.”

  “It was the least I could do.” After murdering him.

  “Thank you.”

  In response, he squeezed her hand, wanting to say more but knowing this wasn’t the place or the time. Finally, he let her go, hurrying out of the confined space and into the fresh air. Thankful for the crisp autumn breeze and the hint of rain lazing in the grey clouds, he ran his fingers through his hair and took in lungfuls of breath. His thoughts bounced against his skull like an out of control tennis ball. His better judgment told him to stay the fuck away from Grace Moretti. He’d killed her father. Her brother was in deep shit with his boss. One wasn’t supposed to get involved with victims and their families, because once you did, feelings started to bubble up. Remorse. Fear. Sadness.

  Colt clenched his hands. Hers had been soft, gentle, but with a degree of assertiveness he hadn’t expected. Would she kiss in the same way? His cock twitched and caterpillars walked across his stomach, venomous yet exciting at the same time.

  He was going to have to see her again, wasn’t he?

  Chapter Two

  Colt observed her from within the car.

  Grace walked to the corner bookshop, head bowed against the wind, trench coat flapping wildly, giving him glimpses of the plum-colored skirt she wore beneath.

  To his surprise, she hadn’t flown home the day after the funeral. She was staying in a hotel in the city center and had visited a lawyer’s firm twice in the last two days with her brother. Today was the first time he saw her out and about alone. It was time to make a move.

  He didn’t know how long she’d stay in the city, but every hour counted in his plan. Seduce her. Fuck her. Forget her. SFF. Once he got her out of his system, everything would go back to normal. She’d return to California, he’d get back to work and would be able to masturbate and fuck other women without fantasizing about Grace. Easy.

  Colt checked that his gun was still in place. Then, he checked the perimeter. Nothing seemed to be out of order. He stepped out of the vehicle as the first drops of rain splattered against his skull. Hurrying across the empty street, he entered the shop. A bell chimed and a clerk turned to give him a welcoming smile. It vanished just as fast at the sight of him. Colt nodded and headed further inside, searching for the emergency exits and making an appraisal of the amount of people inside. Once he decided the situation was as safe as it could possibly be, he began seeking Grace.

  He found her in the romance book section, standing on her toes while trying to reach a book on the highest shelf. Colt stared. She wore killer heels and a skirt that hugged every delicious curve of her generous ass. It’d hiked up a little, giving him a view of what could only be a hint of a stocking. His dick throbbed its approval. Her hair hung in a ponytail down her back and his fantasy became more elaborate. He’d fuck her from behind, controlling her while keeping his hand wrapped around a fistful of hair.

  Colt moved closer to her. He’d chat her up, get her interested, and then go in for the kill. As if she’d sensed his presence, she whipped her head to the side, lost her balance, and came crashing into him. Colt wrapped his arm around her, keeping her from hitting the floor.

  “Looks like an angel just fell into my lap.”

  “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Grace veered to face him, but her heel gave away again. Colt steadied her.

  “Easy now, angel. I think you might have busted those shoes. Step out of them. Let’s have a look.”

  “That’s okay.” She held onto the bookshelf, regaining her balance. Colt frowned, wishing she’d used him as a pole instead.

  He retrieved her coat, draping it over his forearm.

&n
bsp; “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” She looked up at his face. Recognition sparked in her eyes. “Colt.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you remember my name, Grace.”

  Her cheeks flushed. She reached for her trench and he handed it over.

  “What were you looking for?”

  “Oh, um—” The pink in her face traveled across her neck and down to the cleavage of her white shirt. His cock hardened at an alarming rate. She shrugged and turned around. “Nothing specific really, just something to take my mind off things.”

  Colt stepped closer to her. He could feel the heat of her body. Welcoming. Tempting. He perused the shelf. It appeared the steamiest romances where at the top. The title of one caught his gaze and he reached over Grace. She jumped slightly, but didn’t move away.

  “This one looks interesting.”

  He hooked his arms around her, showing her the cover. Grace took it, her fingers brushing against his.

  “I’ve read this one before,” she said quietly. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Colt returned the book to its place. The movement brought them closer together. He could smell her hair now. Strawberries. He licked his lips.

  Grace grasped his forearm. Her fingers glided over the material of his shirt. He held his breath, expecting her to push him away, but she surprised him by tilting back, her ass bumping against his raging hard-on.

  “What exactly were you looking for?” he growled in her ear.

  She shifted her weight, sending shockwaves of desire through him.

  “Something to take my mind off things.”

  Colt brought her flush to him. Every delicious curve of her body fit snugly against him. He ran the flat of his palm down her side, over her hips.

  “Would this do?” he enquired.

  “Maybe.”

  Encouraged by her brazen reply, Colt reached lower, his fingers grazed her stocking, then the soft flesh of her thigh.

  “Are you still thinking, angel?” he asked, lazily drawing circles on her skin.

  “Yes.”

  She sounded breathless and her grip on his arm tightened.

  “Well then, we must find you something else to read.”

  Colt scraped the side of her neck with his teeth. Grace moaned quietly. He soothed the spot with a kiss, then sucked on the flesh. Grace whimpered.

  “I want to fuck you, angel.” He slid his hand higher beneath her skirt, cupping her sex. Heat emanated from her. “And I know you want me, too.” He rubbed her folds. “I’m not even inside you and I can tell how wet you are.”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  Colt snuck a digit under her panties. He circled her hole, tormenting her.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, Grace?”

  “Um, excuse me.” They broke apart. Grace straightened her outfit and pretended to check the shelves. Do you guys need any help?”

  Colt spun to face the intruder. A young store clerk hovered a few feet away from them. She wrung her hands on her apron, looking from him to Grace. He glared at her.

  “No, thank you,” he barked.

  “Oh, um, if you need help finding anything, we’re here to help.”

  “Thank you,” Grace said.

  The shop assistant nodded and scampered off. Colt returned his attention to Grace. She kept her eyes on the rows of books. Her clothes were back in place, but her cheeks still glowed red.

  “Grace.”

  “I’m sorry, Colt. I don’t know what came over me.” She gave him a shaky smile. “We hardly know each other and I got a little carried away.” Her gaze traveled down the length of his body. She cleared her throat. “My emotions have been a bit haywire.”

  Colt grinned. Emotions. Hormones. It was all the same to him. His plan couldn’t be going any better.

  “You won’t hear me complaining, angel.” He reached into his jacket, pulled out his business card, and handed it to her. She skimmed over the plain, standard design, her eyes widening.

  “You're a salesman.”

  “What did you expect?”

  She laughed nervously.

  “I-I don't know,” she stammered.

  Colt laughed. He leaned over her again. Grace jumped, but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he picked a book from the shelf.

  “Here. This one looks interesting, but if it doesn’t get your mind off things, you can always call me, Grace. I’ll be waiting. And I promise, by the time we’re done you won’t even remember your name.”

  Chapter Three

  Colt watched Grace from the café at the other side of the street.

  Although she’d entered the lawyer’s office with her brother, she left alone. Grace walked at a brisk pace down the street. Colt threw some money on the table for his coffee and went after her. He was careful to keep his distance, lest she see him, but she seemed absorbed in her thoughts. Suddenly, she stopped. She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone.

  Colt’s heart jolted as his phone vibrated against his chest. Was she calling him? He pulled it out and stared at the number he’d found and saved. Grace. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and she was calling him. He grinned. Seduction had never been so easy. He swept his index across the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Um, is this Colt?”

  “Hello, Grace.”

  She had her back to him, so he couldn’t read her face, but he imagined her biting her lip, nervously.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  Colt smirked. She was sharp.

  “I recognized your voice,” he lied.

  “Oh.” Silence hung heavy in the air. She took two steps, then stopped, and cleared her voice. “Well, I was calling because you said, um—” She switched her purse from one arm to the other. “Um, how do I put this?”

  Colt swallowed the chuckle lodged in his throat. If he laughed he’d come out as a bastard and that’s the last thing he wanted, but watching her struggle was endearing, not to mention, hot. Would she be just as hesitant when they were finally together?

  Last evening, she hadn’t had any difficulties coming on to him, but the hidden aisle in a bookshop offered a certain degree of protection which daylight out in the street didn’t. With the sun shining down on them, everything was different. Shadows were brought to light, actions and words spoken in hurried whispers, transformed and the magnitude of what they’d done, grew. But he wouldn’t give her time to change her mind. It was too late for that.

  “The book didn’t help?” he interjected.

  “No.” she sounded relieved. “It didn’t.”

  He waited for her to continue, giving her time to find the words she needed.

  “Maybe we could meet for a cup of coffee,” she suggested.

  “I’m not interested.”

  Her sharp intake of breath was audible through the line.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  Colt cut her off.

  “No, angel, you don’t understand. I’m not interested in coffee and neither are you. Why did you call me?”

  She started moving again. Colt kept up with her, swerving left and right both to avoid bumping into people and being seen.

  “Because I want you to make me forget,” she whispered.

  “Good.” He dropped the tone of his voice. “I’ll tell you what I want, angel.” He paused. “I want to fuck you. I want to see you wearing something sexy and lacy and I want to rip it from your body and pound into your wet cunt until you practically beg me to stop.”

  Grace slowed down to a standstill. A passerby almost crashed into her and through the speaker, he heard the man scream at her to move out of the way. She quickly pressed herself to the nearest store window and pretended to look at the items on display. The hand carrying her purse dropped to her side and she shook her head. Fuck. Was he losing her? Had he come on too strong?

  “Grace, are you there?”

  “Yes, sorry. I’m out on the street,” she explain
ed.

  “Is that what you want, too?” he persisted. He crossed to the other side of the street and found a new vantage point. He couldn’t suppress his grin when he finally saw where she was standing. No wonder she’d reacted in that way. She was right in front of a lingerie shop.

  “Grace?”

  She fanned herself with her hand.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes? You want me to fuck you? To bring you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t stand?”

  “God, yes,” she whispered.

  Colt licked his lips. Part one of the plan was complete.

  “Where do I pick you up?” he asked.

  She gave him the address.

  “That’s a hotel, isn’t it?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Angel, why didn’t you say so before? What’s your room number?” Colt asked.

  “Oh, um, it’s 166.”

  “I’ll be there at nine.”

  Grace nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “See you tonight, angel. And Grace?”

  “Yes, Colt?”

  “Red is my favorite color.”

  He hung up, without giving her a chance to reply. From where he stood, he saw her throw her phone back into her bag and straighten her shoulders. She smiled and entered the lingerie shop.

  Damn, he could hardly wait for tonight.

  Chapter Four

  He drove his black sedan to the hotel. It was simple but elegant in its lines. Classy and inconspicuous. His favorite kind of vehicle. Colt checked the time on the dashboard. He was early. As usual.

  He considered giving the car to the valet to park, but decided against it. Too dangerous. Something unforeseen could come up and he wouldn’t have a quick escape method. Instead, he parked behind the hotel. The building’s emergency exits all led to this street. It was wide and open to traffic on both sides, but not heavily populated, especially at this hour.

  Colt turned off the ignition and headlights. The street lamps offered enough glow for him to be able to see the heavy raindrops starting to ricochet off the windshield.