White Heat (Dept 6 Hired Guns 1)

Throwing back his head, he abandoned his self-control and pleasure ripped through him in a series of bone-melting spasms.

“Tell me you love me,” he said as he sank, exhausted, onto the floor beside her.

Judging by the sudden stiffness of her body, she didn’t trust him. “Quit being a jerk,” she said.

Summoning what little energy he had left, he rolled over and caught her chin so she had to look at him. “I’m not being a jerk, Rachel. I want to hear it…if it’s still true.”

She seemed about to say something but he never got to hear it. Almost before he realized what was happening, he heard a key in the lock.

Grabbing his clothes, he made a dash for cover—and barely reached the bathroom before the door swung open.

Rachel’s heart never stopped pounding. Pleasure turned instantly to fear as her visitor snapped on a flashlight. She wanted to react immediately, to sit up and demand to know who was entering her room without permission. But she hadn’t managed to get into bed. She’d barely had time to belt her robe. At this point, she thought it was smarter to pretend she’d had a crying jag and fallen asleep on the floor. She was so confused about Nate that she felt like crying, so it was actually close to the truth.

The beam of the flashlight lingered on the bed before continuing around the room. It stopped the moment it landed on her.

Pretending it was the light that had awakened her, she squinted and blinked and raised a hand to block the glare. “Who—who is it?”

A snap returned the room to darkness, but not before Rachel saw a person dressed in one of the Klan-like robes she’d seen the audience wear at her initiation ceremony. This person seemed tall, but from her position on the floor, almost anyone would.

“Wh-what do you want?” she asked when her previous question went unanswered.

The intruder lunged at her and clamped a hand over her mouth, pressing so tightly she could hardly breathe. Because Nate was in the bathroom and already knew someone had come in, she didn’t scream. But the intruder’s actions caused a brief squeal of surprise.

“Shut up!” The words were a harsh whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to warn you. You’re not safe. Do you understand? Get out of Paradise before you wind up like—”

That was as far as the masked intruder got before Nate yanked him off Rachel. She tried to stop what came next, but it happened too fast.

The sound of fist on bone made her wince. Then the costume-draped intruder crumpled onto the floor beside her and Nathan stood over them both, shaking his hand.

“Did you break your hand?” Rachel asked.

“I don’t think so. Did he hurt you?”

“No. He wasn’t here to hurt me. He was trying to warn me. At least, that’s what he said.”

“Warn you about what?”

“I didn’t get the whole message. He said I needed to get out of Paradise before I wound up like… And then you smashed his face in.”

Nate cursed. “He had to warn you by coming to your room in the middle of the night? By attacking you?”

“Maybe he’s afraid of Ethan. Maybe he didn’t dare come at any other time. And he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t scream.”

“Who is the bastard?” he asked.

At this point, Rachel wasn’t even sure the “bastard” was alive. It was rare to be killed with one punch, but the adrenaline surging through Nate’s body had likely amplified his strength, and he was strong already.

Picking up the flashlight from where it had fallen, Nate turned it on while she removed the man’s hood. But it wasn’t a man at all. It was a woman—Ethan’s housekeeper.

“Oh, no…” Rachel whispered.

“Tell me she’s only out cold…” he responded.

Rachel searched for a pulse at the woman’s neck. She was alive, but she wasn’t moving. They had to get help.

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out what to do. He’d had no idea the person he’d hit was a woman, but he doubted that would’ve stopped him even if he’d known. He couldn’t tell whether the intruder had entered with a knife. He’d acted instinctively to protect Rachel, and he didn’t regret that. Depending on their visitor’s intent, this could’ve gone very differently.

“We have to get her to a hospital,” Rachel said.

He bent to scoop up the limp body, but when the woman moaned and began to turn her head from side to side, Rachel touched his arm.

“Wait, don’t move her. Let’s see if she’s okay.” Crouching over her, they peered into her face.

The housekeeper squinted. “Who—who are you? W-what happened?” Her voice sounded more like a croak as if she’d been suddenly awakened from a lengthy sleep. But it didn’t take long for the confusion to clear. “The Vessel,” she muttered. “You’re the Vessel.”

Nate sent Rachel a questioning glance. “She means you’re a possible vessel, right? By Ethan’s definition, every woman in the compound is here for his pleasure—a possible vessel.”

“I’m not sure. I might have a slightly elevated status. I am living in the Enlightenment Hall.”

“I thought that was temporary protection from me.”

“So did I, but there were a few things said at my initiation that made me wonder—”

The housekeeper interrupted her. “You—you have to get out.” She gingerly prodded her cheek, where she’d taken the blow. “You’re not safe here.”

“Why do you say that?” Rachel asked.

She shifted her attention to Nathan. “You—you’re her husband.”

“Yes.”

“Take her away. Tonight.”

“Why?”

“I can’t say.”

“Sure you can.”

“No. I can’t trust you.” She tried to get up, swooned and Rachel caught her as she fell back. “You hit me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to people sneaking into my wife’s room in the middle of the night, especially people wearing hoods.”

“But you weren’t supposed to be here. How’d you get in?”

“I made my own entrance,” he admitted.

Closing her eyes, she continued to moan quietly.

“Do you need us to take you to a doctor?” Rachel’s voice was filled with concern.

“No, I—I’ll be okay. In a minute.”