pushed off from the desk. “Anything you want.”
“This isn’t about money.” Sullivan dropped his hold on the door. Marching across the room, he shortened the space between them until she had to look up at him.
Her chin notched higher as she held her ground.
The woman had stood up to all kinds of criminals and soldiers over the years. She wasn’t intimidated. Damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. But he knew better than to trust her.
Chest almost pressed against her, he quirked one corner of his mouth. There were other ways to get her out of his office. He pushed his palms on either side of her on the desk, leaning down. “Unless you’re talking about something other than money...”
Her lips parted, a sharp exhale of air beating against him. Jane studied his face from top to bottom but didn’t move to escape the box he’d created around her. She locked that striking gaze on his, eyes determined and wide. “Dollars and cents, Lieutenant Bishop. Nothing more.”
“Then you’ll want to leave before I put in a call to your commanding officer and have you disbarred for harassing the family of one of your victims.” He shoved himself away from the desk, away from that intoxicating scent of hers, and headed toward the door.
“I can make you help me,” she said.
Another rush of heat overwhelmed his control, and he stopped dead in his tracks. What part of his answer didn’t she understand? He spun back toward her. If it was a fight she was looking for, fine. He had no problem taking down the woman who’d destroyed his family. He might even enjoy it. “I’d like to see you try.”
“All right.” Jane straightened her spine as though she was preparing for battle. That same fire he’d caught a glimpse of during his brother’s court-martial encroached on the darkness embedded in her features. “I know who you really are. And I know what you’ve been hiding.”
* * *
“YOU DON’T KNOW anything about me.” Sullivan Bishop seemed so much...bigger than he had a moment ago. Caged by his body against the desk, she felt his heat tunnel through her clothing. Hatred had burned in those sea-colored eyes as he’d pressed his chest against hers.
Jane swallowed as he stretched his shoulders wider. What had she been thinking to try to blackmail a man like him? Blackhawk Security’s CEO wasn’t an administrator over a team of highly trained ex-military operatives. He was ex-military. He’d been a SEAL, capable of the worst kind of violence. And she’d just threatened everything he’d ever worked for.
He closed in on her a second time. His clean, fresh scent whispered across the underside of her jaw as he spoke.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Every word out of his mouth promised she was going to wish she hadn’t gone down this path, but Jane didn’t have any other choice. Gliding her tongue across her bottom lip—a movement his eyes locked onto—she stood her ground. There was no turning back. He was the best, and she needed his help. One way or another.
“I know Sullivan Bishop isn’t your real name.” Every muscle in his body tightened in warning, and Jane forced herself to breathe evenly. She pressed her lower back into the desk. “And the people holding your company’s military contracts might be interested to know why you changed it. A few of your classified clients, too, I imagine.”
“You’re blackmailing me?” A low growl reverberated up his throat and hiked her blood pressure higher. The shadows angling across the dark, thick stubble darkening his jaw shifted, but those sea-blue eyes never left hers. The veins in his arms popped as he leaned into her, the butt of the Glock in his shoulder holster pressing into her arm. “Are you sure you want to go down this road, Captain Reise? It won’t end well.”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to survive.” A shiver chased up her spine, but Jane held her ground. She couldn’t live like this anymore. The late-night phone calls, the feeling of being watched, the sick photo in her cell phone of her sleeping. And there was more. Going back several weeks. “Have you ever been hunted like an animal, Lieutenant Bishop?”
The suffocating bubble of tension he’d built around her disappeared. The edge to his features softened. She breathed a little easier. Putting some distance between them, Sullivan relaxed his hands to his sides, but the strong muscles flexing the length of his arms promised he was fully capable of violence. “Yes.”
“Then you know what it’s like to constantly be looking over your shoulder, to feel so helpless you don’t seem to have any control of your own life.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fully aware of the loss of body heat he’d forced through her with his proximity. Her hands shook as the terror she’d tried keeping to herself crept through her. “To feel like every second you’re alive could actually be your last.”
The lines running from the edge of his nose to those perfectly crafted lips deepened. She couldn’t read his expression, but the tension in his neck and shoulders released.
“How did you get through it?” she asked.
Sullivan’s chest expanded on a deep inhale. At least he wasn’t crowding her anymore. She could actually breathe again, but the cold fist tightened in the pit of her stomach. “I have people I trust to back me up no matter what the situation calls for.”
She nodded. That was what she was counting on. Why she was here in the first place. Sullivan had the reputation for committing himself to every job he took on, and while it was a risk to rely on the man she was blackmailing, she hoped his reputation proved true. “Well, I don’t have a team. I have you. And if it’s going to take blackmail to get you to help me, then so be it.”
Silence pressed in on her as Sullivan studied her from head to toe. A scorching trail of awareness skittered across her skin. What did he see? A woman who couldn’t protect herself? Or the woman responsible for his brother’s death?
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours of my time,” he said. “After that, you can go back to your cold, empty existence and leave me the hell alone.”
He was just like the rest of them: her peers, the men and women she prosecuted to protect citizens of the United States, even her commanding officer. She’d earned her reputation as the Full Metal B, she supposed. Her job required an almost ruthless approach to the cases she’d been assigned, but this was the first time her rib cage tightened at someone’s assessment of her. Which didn’t make sense. She didn’t care what Sullivan Bishop thought of her. She didn’t care what any of them thought of her. Her insides twisted. She didn’t care. Jane shoved off from the massive desk he’d trapped her against moments before. Uncrossing her arms, she stepped toward him. “So you’ll help me?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I? Isn’t that how blackmail is supposed to work?” Sullivan rounded his desk. The thick muscles across his back flexed through his shirt. She forced her attention to the sway of his gun rather than the way he moved, to prove she could take her eyes off him. Lean waist, strong legs, hints of his trident tattoo peeking out from under his T-shirt. Such a dangerous man shouldn’t be that attractive. “We’ll take my car.”
Jane straightened. Okay. They were doing this. “Where are we going?”
“To your town house. I’ll brief my team on the way.” He unholstered the Glock from his side and dropped the magazine into his hand. After a glance at the rounds, he replaced it with efficient, sure movements and chambered a round. He raised that piercing gaze to hers. “I have a man on my team who used to work forensics for the NYPD. If your stalker has been in your house like you claim, he’ll find the evidence and we can all move on with our lives.”
She ran her cold palms over the front of her jeans and took another step toward him. He was actually going to help her find the man trying to destroy her life? A knot of hope pulsed from deep in her chest. “And if he does find evidence? What then?”
Sullivan came around the desk, his wide shoulders blocking out the magnificent view of the