sure you’d find me before Volkov flew me off to Mexico.” She grimaced.
Rhys’ gut hardened. He wanted to hurt Volkov all over again. “I’m the best investigator in San Francisco, remember?”
Saxon, walking past him with the sodden tech billionaire, snorted. “You’re not going to tell her about the tracker?”
“Tracker?” Her eyes widened and she gripped the diamond resting against her chest. “You put a tracker on me?”
“Haven—”
She grinned. “Considering what happened, I’m totally okay with that.” She smacked a kiss to his lips.
He slid a hand into her hair, and so many things moved through him. Damn, she turned him inside out.
“Police are two minutes out,” Ace said in their earpieces.
“It’s over,” Haven murmured. She looked at the painting, then scanned Volkov’s house. “The danger, it’s done.”
“Yeah, baby.”
She started shaking. “Oh, God. I held it together this long, why am I freaking out now?”
“Adrenaline crash. It’s normal.”
“You aren’t shaking.”
“I’m trained to deal with it.” He pulled her close, his hand resting at the nape of her neck, massaging gently. “Just breathe, Haven.”
“I’m tired of freaking out. I’m definitely tired of being kidnapped.”
Rhys’ mouth moved into a flat line. “I’m tired of that, too.” He scooped her off her feet and into his arms. “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” He headed inside. He’d raid Volkov’s cellar and find her something to drink.
She’d need to give a statement to the cops, but she could do it while he held her.
“Wait,” she said, “the painting.”
Fuck the painting. “We’ll get it later.”
She looked like she was going to argue, but then she relaxed into him, and snuggled against his chest. “Okay.”
Chapter Twenty
Haven moaned, straddling Rhys, riding him hard. His fingers dug into her hips. Flesh slapped against flesh.
She looked down to find his hot gaze on her face. His hand stroked her jaw, and he slid his finger in her mouth. She sucked on it hard.
She was lost in him. The pleasure was so intense that she felt it everywhere. She sucked his finger deep, and he cursed, his hips bucking up beneath her.
“So fucking beautiful, Haven. Mine.”
His hands left her hip, sliding around to find her clit.
She leaned over him, her hips moving faster. Her release was building, shimmering. She was right on the edge and she wanted to jump.
She slammed down, his thick cock stretching her, his thumb on her clit. Then the edge was gone and she was freefalling.
“Rhys.” Her hoarse scream echoed off the walls.
“Yes, Haven. I’m here. Watching how gorgeous you are taking my cock, coming on my cock.”
Everything inside her spasmed. With a growl, he surged up.
In a blink, she was on her back with Rhys over her, moving inside her with fast, hard thrusts.
God, he was beautiful. Magnificent.
With a groan, he came, his muscles straining, his face twisting.
They lay collapsed on the bed, skin cooling. She traced one of the tattoos on his arm. “I need to get moving. I’m due at the museum.”
He grunted, kissed her, and rolled off.
As she headed to the shower, she glanced back. A little thrill went through her.
All those gorgeous, hard muscles stretched out on the bed. It had been four glorious days since they’d recovered the Water Lilies at Volkov’s estate in Napa.
The first two days, they’d spent in bed. They’d had an insane amount of creative sex, eaten, slept, watched movies. They’d discovered that they both loved the sci-fi genre. She’d been sure he’d prefer action movies, but the inaccuracies drove him crazy. He’d been sure she’d love chick flicks, but the over-the-top, embarrassing situations in rom-coms made her wince.
Now, they were both back at work. She was safe, and the Monet was hanging back on the wall in the Hutton where it belonged. Life was back to normal.
She glanced at the sexy man on the bed. His body was relaxed, but for the last couple of days, he’d seemed…preoccupied. Even now, she saw the small furrow on his brow.
A lump formed in her throat and she ducked into the bathroom. She flicked the shower on.
Haven looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. It looked like she’d just had wild sex. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling. She had a hickey on her neck. Anytime it faded, Rhys bit her again.
She shivered, feeling it between her legs. She’d told him that she loved him, but he hadn’t returned the words.
Her smile faded.
Maybe he wanted her gone? She was essentially living with him, and the dangerous circumstances that had forced the situation were