Axel recoiled in surprise. He hadn’t even been aware that Stone and Misty had met, much less that the man had a hard-on for her.
“Nope. Never have. I’m a friend doing her a favor. That’s it. But I’ll warn you now, if you just want to fuck and chuck, she’s not your girl.”
Stone chuckled. “Okay. Understood. Agree to set up a meet-and-greet between us, and I’ll find out whatever you want to know. Hell, I’ll give you the target’s blood type and what they like for breakfast.”
As he backed out of the driveway in neutral, Axel paused. Sweet Pea was emotionally fragile, and he wasn’t sure if Stone had any interest in her beyond sexual. It was on the tip of his tongue to spill some of the girl’s secrets. He didn’t. She’d resent the shit out of him for it. In fact, it had taken months of talking and a lot of trust-building between them before she’d divulged anything about her past. He’d sworn to keep her secrets, some of which even Thorpe, her boss and mentor, didn’t know.
“I’ll do it,” he told Stone finally. “But I can’t promise she’ll have any interest. If you hurt her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“I’ve been duly warned. I want to see her this week.”
“I can make it happen tomorrow.”
“Even better.” Satisfaction rang from Stone’s voice. “What do you want me to find out?”
“Mystery Mullins is staying at the Hotel Crescent Court in Dallas. I want her room number.”
Stone didn’t sound surprised—or as if he even cared. “Give me a few. I’ll have it. Any chance she’s staying there under an assumed name?”
“Yeah. She probably checked in yesterday. That’s all I’ve got.”
“It should be enough,” Stone said.
Axel breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll call you in fifteen.”
“I’ll have an answer even sooner, but whatever floats your boat.”
Before he could say anything else, Stone hung up. Axel debated the wisdom of introducing the brash man to shy little Misty, but she should branch out. She needed a man who made her feel something other than safe. Axel knew it wasn’t him.
Starting and revving his bike, he tore out of the driveway and headed into the night. He could think himself to death about why Mystery had hidden her identity to trick him into bed. It either had a lot to do with a bottle of tequila, a ghost town, and his rejection . . . or she’d wanted to see how the trailer half fucked.
As soon as he arrived, he parked his motorcycle. If he had his way, he’d be staying far longer than ten minutes.
Inside the lobby, he pulled out his phone. Again, Stone answered almost immediately.
“What do you have for me?” Axel asked.
“You’ll like this. She’s registered as Elise Rattlebottom. I searched the name. She’s the lead character in Mystery’s series of novels.”
Axel remembered reading when she’d signed her first publishing deal four years ago. At least he understood the name she’d given him at the bar now. “Rattlebottom?”
“Yeah. She’s a vegan cat burglar from London who hates her name. She steals precious items from their current keepers and returns them to the rightful owner. You know, rare dogs, paintings stolen from Jews by the Nazis—that kind of stuff. The character is known by the alias Robin Plunder.”
Despite his annoyance, he grinned at that. “Room number?”
Stone rattled it off, then didn’t wait a second before barking a question back at him. “What time tomorrow?”
“Plan on six at Club Dominion. I’ll let you know if there’s a change.”
Axel hung up before the man could comment or protest, then stepped into the elevator.
Time to unravel his Mystery.
Chapter Eight
SHAKING from head to toe, Mystery snatched up her phone to call Heath. She shouldn’t be alone now, not after someone had just sneaked into her room. He would handle hotel security and the police. She would try to calm her father and keep her fears in check.
Because it looked as if her past was coming back to haunt her. Once upon a time, whoever had paid for her abduction had wanted her for something terrible, maybe even deadly. God forbid if they wanted her again, this time to finish what they’d started.
Mystery punched in her security code to unlock the phone, then flipped through her recent calls. She’d just spotted Heath’s number when someone began pounding on her door.
With a shriek, she dropped the phone and lurched back against the wall. “Who is it?”
She cursed her trembling voice, her racing thoughts. Maybe room service had merely arrived. Maybe the hotel management intended to check on her after the incident in the lobby. Or maybe someone lethal had come to finish her off.
“Open the damn door,” a man growled on the other side.
Yeah, after some psycho had forced his way into her room and left her a threatening photo, she wasn’t inclined to comply. “Go away.”
“Like hell. Open up.”
“I’m calling the police,” she shouted.
“Damn it, I need to talk to you, Mystery.”
Something about his voice cut through her panic and sparked her memory. It was familiar, evoked safety. It wasn’t Heath, but . . .
Axel?
With relief flooding through her veins, she darted to the door and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, there stood the mountain of a man who’d once rescued her. The man she’d seduced earlier. He would understand the threat she’d just received.
With shaking hands, she pressed down on the lever and opened the door. The sight of him in her portal, a huge sentry keeping out all the bad, rushed over her.
It was probably stupid, but she didn’t care. Mystery threw herself into his arms. “Thank God you’re here.”
Axel propelled her back into the room. The door slammed behind them. He reared back, wearing a thunderously furious expression.
“What the fuck kind of games are you playing with me, princess? You disguise yourself to seduce me, tell me a bunch of lies, then the bed is barely cold before you’re gone—”
She wrenched free and ran to the desk, retrieving the picture. “This just happened.”
When she thrust it at him, he grabbed it but didn’t look, just scowled. She trembled. As he studied her, his anger melted into concern. “You’re afraid. Of me?”
“No,” she assured. “Look at the picture, front and back.”
He gritted his teeth at her, then jerked his gaze down to the photo in his hand. After a long stare, he flipped it over. His glower of epic proportions turned to absolute ice.
“Tell me how you got this,” he demanded.
She drew in a shaking breath, the voice in her head screaming that she needed to keep herself together. “I left your house and came back here. Once in my room, I hopped in the shower. When I got out, I found this.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t here before then? That someone didn’t bring it in while you were out of the room?”
“P-positive,” she assured. “My phone was on that desk, so I texted my father before the shower to tell him I was all right and to sleep well. When I came out, I’d planned to send Heath a text—”
“Who is that? The man I saw on TMZ holding your hand in the lobby?”
Mystery recoiled. Anger seethed from him when he asked the question.
She swallowed. “Yeah. He’s my driver and bodyguard. My father hired him shortly after we moved to London. He’s been with me since.”
“Does he have a key to your room?”
“No. We don’t have . . . I mean, he’s not, like, my lover or boyfriend or anything. He has no reason—”
“If I were your bodyguard, I would have a key to your room, regardless of our relationship—which we’re going to discuss eventually. Right now, we need to be clear that whoever left you this picture knows about your abduction. Maybe he was even in on it.”