“Fine,” Tyler said. “I’ll set it up. What else?”
“Lina noticed your date for the party,” Evan said in a voice that sounded just a little too smooth. “Asked me if I knew who she was.”
I froze, wishing I could see as well as hear.
“What’d you tell her?” Cole asked.
“The truth,” Evan said. “What do you think? But, dammit, Tyler, you know damn well I’m not one to question your endgame, but you should have talked to us before fucking a cop—”
I gasped—barely a sound, but I knew in that instant that they’d heard me.
Instinctively I reached for my weapon, only to remember that I wasn’t wearing it. I turned to run—because no matter what bullshit Hollywood throws at you, one unarmed, petite female detective was no match for those three—but the door was open and Tyler flew through it, catching my arm before I’d even reached the end of the hall.
“You bastard! You goddamn, mother-fucking bastard.” I hurled the words at him, even as I tried to yank my arm free. No go there; he had me tight. Which left me no option but to lash out with my free hand and smash my fist into his sanctimonious face.
He anticipated the punch, so I got him in the jaw instead of his nose.
What I didn’t get, was free. I was still trapped tight in his grip. Only now, he was surely even more pissed off.
“You son of a bitch.” I wasn’t shouting. On the contrary, my words were cold and measured, but that ice was balanced against a white hot rage.
“Jesus, fuck, that hurts,” Tyler said, tightening his grip on me as he reached up with his free hand to massage his jaw.
“Tyler.” Cole stood frozen in the hall, Evan behind him. They both looked as intimidating as hell. And in that singular moment, I understood how they’d risen to become such fierce and feared businessmen. Who the hell would dare cross them?
Me, apparently. Shit.
I considered struggling, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Instead, I stood perfectly straight and perfectly silent, willing my pulse to calm down as I watched the situation and analyzed my options.
Not a long process—considering Tyler held me tight and the fact that it was three against one, I calculated that my choices were limited.
Tyler’s eyes stayed firmly on me, but he was talking to the other two men when he said, very softly and simply, “Go.”
Evan took a step forward. “Listen, Tyler. I’m—”
“Later.” Tyler’s eyes never left my face. “Go out through the back entrance. We’ll talk tomorrow. I have this under control.”
I saw the doubt in Cole’s and Evan’s faces—and I knew damn sure they could see the fury on mine—but they did as Tyler asked, and moved down the hall to a service door.
The moment it clicked shut behind them, I yanked my arm again—and once again he held me tight.
“Goddammit, Tyler. Let me go.” I was tense. Tight. And I was searching the hall, doing a visual check for anything I could use as a weapon—if I ever got free and had the chance to grab it.
“Do you know why I pushed you last night?” he asked, and I heard the danger in his voice, sharp and clean like the blade of a knife.
I met his eyes, but said nothing. I felt the tiny beads of sweat rise on the back of my neck, though, and my skin went clammy. I tried to push down the fear, tried to control the beat of my heart. But there was no denying it—and I was certain that Tyler could see it.
“Because you were a goddamn cop who had slid into my bed and I wanted—wanted—you to be afraid.”
My mouth was bone dry as he took a step closer, and I moved back until I was pressed up against the wall, his body only a hairsbreadth from mine, and I was bathed in the heat of his fury.
“I wanted to make you wonder,” he continued, his voice low and harsh and deadly. “Wonder if you’d made a mistake playing me. Make you wonder if maybe I was the kind of man who could hurt a woman.”
“Are you?”
I saw his hand rise as fury marred his face. And then, before I had time to react, to do anything, he lashed out. I winced, but he wasn’t aiming the blow at me. Instead, he punched the wall behind me, setting it to shake and rattling the sconces that lined the hallway.
“I’m not,” he said, his low, even voice a stark contrast to the man who’d just exploded in front of me. “Last night, I thought I was pushing a cop. A bitch cop who’d stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong and was afraid that maybe, just maybe, she’d fucked with the wrong man.”
He reached out, as if to stroke my cheek, but I flinched, and he paused, then slowly withdrew. “When I realized that it wasn’t me you were scared of but your memories, I wanted to kick myself. I never meant—” He drew in a breath. “I never meant to hurt you that way.”
“I believe you.” It was true. Whatever else was between us, that fundamental point was true.
He met my eyes, his full of disappointment, and then he released me. I debated running, realized I couldn’t get past him, so I decided to stay and let this play out. Besides, I wanted to know what more he had to say.
For a moment he just stood there. Then he moved across the hall and leaned against the doorjamb. Gone was the earlier fury and the regret. Instead, he looked relaxed and calm and perfectly in control.
“What is it you think you know about me, Sloane?”
I debated how to answer, then decided that some truth was the best approach. “Not much. Not much that’s concrete, anyway.”
“Tell me.”
“I know you were given immunity for Mann Act violations,” I said, watching his face carefully.
His expression didn’t change at all. “That’s interesting,” he said. “Especially when you consider that the immunity deal was confidential.”
I shrugged. “If you know I’m a cop, you probably know that my dad was in the FBI. I have a lot resources.” All true, and yet all deception. But it kept Kevin’s name out of it. I might be pissed at him for pulling me into his vendetta against Evan Black, but I wasn’t about to let Tyler know that an FBI agent still had eyes on him.
“What else?” he demanded.
“Nothing specific,” I admitted. “You three play it close to the vest. There are rumors, speculation. Word is you bump dirty against all sorts of shit. Smuggling, illegal gambling, fraud. As far as I can tell, no one has any solid evidence.”