To Hunt a Sainte (Westlake Enterprises Book 1) Read online

  Three months after meeting Jurek, the government released him. Jurek hired him before he’d realized he’d agreed to the job. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t have to hide his abilities. Jurek urged him to use his talent to help, not harm.

  Hunter soon found himself working alongside others with strange, unnatural abilities. Jurek applied his charm to make people do the right thing. J.D. harnessed electricity, a living conduit who had a knack for computers and the information held within them. Rafe foresaw the future. And there were others with lesser degrees of psychic ability.

  But the woman. What could she do? From the first moment Hunter had seen her, he’d known there was something different about her. And the dreams he’d had compounded it. Just thinking about them made him hard.

  He took her with a fierce need to possess. Not just fucking, but loving. Harder and faster, needing to spill inside her, to cement ties and own her. He came hard twice and still needed more. But that last time she surprised him. On her knees, between his legs, she’d moved closer, taking him between those thick, ripe lips, and sucked him deep.

  “Shit.” Hunter drew a deep breath and tried to ignore his horny subconscious. But no matter how much he tried to deny it, he knew she was different.

  Not simply intrigued by the startling color of her eyes, he’d been drawn by something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. And still can’t. Focus on the goddamn case.

  Hunter had a job to do. He needed to organize the surveillance teams on Buchanan’s people. But as he sat there and thought about those eyes that alternated from jade to emerald green, his mind drifted. Unfocused, his vision grayed and he tasted something foreign, something very much like...chocolate?

  He blinked himself awake, irritated with his inability to stay on task. Worried, but not willing to admit it, he picked up the phone and ordered Williams to come up to his office for a ten o’clock meeting. Turning back to his case files, Hunter went through them line by line, looking for a clue he might have missed.

  At ten-thirty, Williams entered with a harried expression on his face.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Williams stammered an apology and glanced away, as everyone did when faced with Hunter’s displeasure. Only Jurek, Rafe, and J.D. maintained direct eye contact. And the Buchanans, his inner voice reminded him. They’re not scared of me.

  The smell of Williams’ fear forced him to rein in his temper. No use alienating fellow agents, not when he needed them at their sharpest. The Buchanans weren’t important. Rebecca was.

  Hunter took a deep, cleansing breath. “Okay, Williams. I have a job for you and your team. We’re people watching for a few days.”

  Chapter Two

  Alex devoured the chocolate bar she’d stolen from Cole’s desk. The candy melted in her mouth. Milk chocolate, her favorite. To her bemusement, the rich taste faded in comparison to her fascination with the shiny gold of her watch. That color, so vibrant, reminded her too much of the eyes of a man who wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw his impressive strength and his hungry gaze as he watched her. Always watching her.

  “Alex? Hello?” Cole interrupted her insane fantasies, and she dropped the candy bar to the desk like a piece of hot coal. “I’ve been calling your name over and over again.” His frown darkened when he eyed the chocolate.

  “I found it,” she lied, stifled a grin, and concentrated on the folder in front of her.

  “Yeah, in my desk,” he muttered and sat across from her. “So, what do you think about all this?”

  Alex looked at a picture of Rebecca Mitchell’s smiling face. “If the Mitchells haven’t received a ransom note by now, they aren’t going to get one. And the news Max dropped on us this morning in addition to this new file...” she paused and motioned to the folder Christine had, “...tells us Omaney may not be the only player we’ve got to worry about.”

  Cole nodded, looking disturbed. “Mrs. Mitchell comes to us to find her missing daughter. Simple. But what’s not so simple is the tie-in that Rebecca’s disappearance has to six other blondes from good families, all kidnapped within the past month.”

  “So Westlake is in on this, what? From a federal angle?” Alex pursed her lips in thought. “I wonder how they found out about Omaney. I mean, the lipstick gave us a start. But if Luc hadn’t given us his name, we’d still be in the dark.”

  Lucas Buchanan, Alex and Cole’s cousin, had the Buchanan gift of second sight. Unlike the rest of the family, he didn’t consider his special abilities as a gift, but as a curse. Only begrudgingly did he ever admit to experiencing paranormal visions. That he had called Max about something he’d seen the other day worried her.

  “Luc was right about Omaney and that warehouse.” Cole shook his head. “Who would have guessed? Omaney’s practically the poster child for squeaky clean.”

  “He’s in his forties and a confirmed bachelor. He’s handsome, rich, influential, and a major political backer with ties to the police, government, and now a suspected slavery ring?” Alex posed the question. “I don’t understand why someone with that much going for him would resort to something so incredibly wrong.”

  Cole sighed. “Just because he looks that good on the outside doesn’t mean he’s a Boy Scout. He hasn’t gotten where he is in life by being nice.” He flexed his fingers, and Alex followed the telling motion.

  “Okay, just what did you see when you felt his computer keyboard?”

  Cole’s eyes darkened with emotion, and she wondered if he’d tell her. “Omaney and another man were engaged in some, ah, sexual play with a woman.” Cole flushed.

  God, she was twenty-seven. Did he really think she’d never heard the word sex before? What would he think if she told him she hadn’t been a virgin in nearly ten years? Cole being Cole, he felt he had to protect her from everything. Alex found his attitude vastly amusing, though misplaced.

  “Alex, what they did to that woman wasn’t natural,” he said in a troubled voice, and her amusement faded. “Though the woman didn’t fight them, she didn’t seem aware of her surroundings. I think they drugged her.”

  “Maybe that’s how Rebecca’s kidnappers got her away with so little fuss. They drugged her and took her out of that club.” Alex glanced back down at the folder in front of her. “The last person to see Rebecca was her friend Sarah who, after giving her statement, conveniently disappeared.”

  “Something about Sarah Moreland doesn’t smell right to me. If I had to place a bet, I’d say she knows more than she’s told. That’s where I’m heading, to look into Sarah’s part in all this. And it’s time I stepped to it.” Cole stood and turned to leave, then said over his shoulder, “And stay out of my desk, you klepto.”

  Alex chuckled, relieved Cole could joke through the darkness settling over him. When he started to fall into one of his emotional black holes, it was hard to drag him out. If anything, he’d given himself, and her, new purpose.

  She studied the missing person report in the file. Rebecca had been visiting friends in Savannah for the weekend before she went back to college. Sarah Moreland, a good friend of hers who’d moved to Charleston the year prior, had also returned for a short visit.

  The last person to see them both together said that Sarah had grabbed Rebecca from the party they’d been attending to go to a ritzy nightclub downtown, a place called Seneca’s.

  Though Rebecca’s picture had been flashed around to the employees of the popular club, no one recalled seeing her. One of the bartenders thought he might have seen Sarah, but couldn’t be sure. The overwhelming amount of high-profile patrons surging through Seneca’s doors had made Rebecca’s face one of many that had been forgotten.

  Alex frowned. Sarah Moreland might have been in on it. Maybe. Rebecca may or may not have disappeared from Seneca’s, or she might have vanished anywhere between the party and the nightclub. Peter Omaney, who had been at Seneca’s the night Rebecca disappeared, had a solid alibi.
His handsome face could be accounted for until well past two in the morning, when he’d left the place with a nubile young redhead who swore she’d spent the night with him.

  Alex poured over the information, stopping a few hours later. There was no way around it. They needed more information on Omaney. Public records and the small amount of data in this folder weren’t enough.

  She walked back up the stairs to her uncle’s office. Christine waved her through.

  Alex entered and sat across from him at his desk. “We need as much info on Omaney as we can get, and we need it fast. Cole is following the lead on Sarah Moreland.”

  Max nodded. “Yes, he was just letting me know. Hold on a second.” He dialed and spoke comfortably with someone named Remy before he hung up.

  “Who was that?”

  “That,” Max said with relish, “was our new IT rep. I hired Remy Davis last week when you and your brother were resting up after the Fembar investigation. Nice work, by the way.”

  Alex nodded, pleased that they’d salvaged Mark Fembar’s reputation by successfully revealing his blackmailer—his best friend and accountant. Which made her wonder...

  “Are you sure you can trust this Remy guy? I didn’t even know we needed a new tech person.” Buchanan Investigations had been running successfully for too long to have some new guy come in and ruin things. Though a small organization, every one of Max’s employees remained loyal—a must, considering their tendency to skirt the law when necessary.

  Her uncle appeared annoyed by her lack of faith. “Remy happens to be a woman, and I know she’ll be a great asset to the company. Don’t worry about her. Oh, and as soon as she gathers the rest of the info on Omaney that I requested Wednesday...” he paused, making her squirm at the reminder of the warehouse break-in, “...I’ll let you know.”

  He opened his mouth to say something more, then closed it. The odd look on his face alarmed her, especially since he seemed focused on her.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, dear. Tell me what you thought of Westlake and his men.” He leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes thoughtful.

  Alex frowned at the sudden change in topic. “Ah, well, Jurek was a charming surprise. He didn’t seem like the government mouthpiece I thought he’d be.”

  Max smiled. “Jurek is no one’s lackey. I told you I worked with him a long time ago. He’s a good man, but he still works with government officials I no longer trust.”

  “So, if you worked with Jurek, then he’s like us. You said before we’re not the only psychics working this case?”

  Max nodded. “He’s highly intuitive. He can size up your character within seconds of meeting you.”

  “What about that charm he fairly oozed?” she asked.

  “The man’s got more than a normal dose of charisma, true. But he also has a backbone when it comes to doing what’s right. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t necessarily trust Jurek’s associates, but I trust and like him.”

  Alex nodded in understanding. “So does Jurek’s firm operate like ours? I mean, do you think some of his people are like us?”

  Max watched her with an intensity she found unnerving. “I would assume so. I’m not too familiar with his people, since I’ve spent the majority of my time avoiding Westlake’s folks.”

  Unable to stop herself, Alex asked, “So you don’t know anything about the men with Jurek?”

  “Don’t you mean, do I know anything about the giant who couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole time he sat in my office?”

  Alex couldn’t conceal her blush. “Well, yeah. Do you know anything about him?”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm, Hunter Greye, let me think.”

  Alex felt stupid for asking. “Never mind.”

  “It’s good to see you so interested in our competition.” Max smirked, and she wanted to smack him. “I actually did some research after they left the office. I worked with Hunter’s father, retired Colonel James Greye, a long time ago. He’s a good man, so I can only hope his son doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Max’s amusement faded as he stared at her. “Still and all, watch yourself. I’m not sure I like the way Hunter fixed on you earlier. If he bothers you, let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

  Alex bristled at her uncle’s concern. This was so typical, and why she hadn’t asked for his permission to infiltrate that warehouse. She’d more or less blackmailed her brother into going with her, threatening to go by herself if he wouldn’t help. Tired of always being pushed aside, where it was safe, Alex wanted more. She knew she could help if they’d give her the chance. Anyone could ferret information. She wanted—needed—to use the gifts God had given her.

  “Alex?” Max probed, pushing at her awareness. “You’ll let me know?”

  Not wanting him to pull her from this case before she could prove her value, not only to him, but to her brother as well, she nodded. Besides, Hunter Greye threatened her on a level she couldn’t explain. She’d keep her distance from the large man. Despite, or perhaps, because of how attractive she found him.

  “Okay, Uncle Max. Whatever you say.”

  THREE DAYS LATER, ALEX sat with her brother in a local coffee house down the block from the office. She glared at a nondescript gray car sitting down the street, visible through the window from her angle at the table.

  “When did you first notice them?” Cole asked as he sipped his coffee.

  “Just yesterday.”

  “Well, if they started watching you at the same time they threw someone on me, I’d say they’ve been tracking you since Friday.” Cole appeared unconcerned.

  “Why aren’t you a little more bothered about this?”

  “Why should I be? First of all, my tail was too obvious. I don’t think Westlake meant for me to miss it. Hell, they’re on the same case we are. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner either we or Westlake find Rebecca, the better.” He frowned and lowered his voice. “I don’t like to think of anyone at the hands of a guy like Omaney.”

  Alex nodded. “So a big nothing on Sarah, eh?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He retrieved a baggie out of his coat pocket. Alex stared at the small change purse he held before her. “It’s hers, and yes, she was nearby when Rebecca vanished from Seneca’s.”

  “What exactly did you see?” Alex leaned closer to her brother, excited at this new break.

  Cole looked around them. Seeing no one near enough to overhear, he explained, “Sarah and Rebecca left that party, just as one witness described. They arrived at Seneca’s around midnight. I know because Sarah checked her watch. She was concerned about the time and nervous.

  “She hurried Rebecca outside the back door of the club to go to a special party. I didn’t see the man who sat waiting for Rebecca in the limo, because he sat in shadow. But Sarah knew him very well.”

  “Peter Omaney,” Alex whispered.

  “That’s my take. I think she and Omaney were an item. She wanted him, and it was a familiar kind of desire, if that makes any sense.”

  “Right.” Not that I’ve felt that way myself in a long time. But I remember the thrill of wanting someone. Alarmed at how easily her thoughts drifted to him, she shook off the odd remembrance of Hunter Greye and focused on this new development.

  “So, how about you? What’s the deal with Omaney?” Cole asked.

  “Remy, the new IT rep, is quite a find. She dug up more information on this guy than I know what to do with. Apparently, Omaney has hotels and properties all over the country.

  “We know he has ties to the government, but we didn’t know he’s been under the watchful eye of a top-secret cell in the federal bureau. Omaney keeps some unsavory companions.”

  Cole perked up at her words. “Really? Like who?”

  “I’m not sure, yet. No names were mentioned, just vague references to someone the Feds have been trying to pin down for a very long time. They call him Wraith. Which makes me wonder...”

  A mirrored confusion appeared
on her brother’s face. “It makes me wonder too. If Omaney’s got some ties to a very bad man, why hasn’t anyone moved on him before now?”

  “Because, until recently, the Feds didn’t know,” a deep voice interrupted them.

  Alex glanced up in surprise at Hunter Greye scowling down at them. He looked even sexier—larger—to her today than he had last week.

  His eyes narrowed on her. Without asking, he pulled up a chair to join them.

  Alex looked at her brother. Normally a very easy man to get along with, Cole had that look in his eyes that meant trouble for the person on the receiving end.

  “What the hell do you want, Greye? This is a private conversation.”

  “Private?” Hunter repeated with scorn, his voice low. “If it’s so private, why are you discussing Peter Omaney in a public coffee house?”

  Cole leaned closer to Hunter, appearing unfazed by the man’s intensity. “Peter Omaney is a public figure, Greye. We’re interested in the man. Aren’t we, Alex?”

  Hunter’s gaze swiveled to her, full of a desire he no longer banked. She could almost feel his mouth on hers, could almost taste the drugging sensuality of his kiss. Alex blinked at the sudden heat that consumed her. Then she wondered if she’d imagined the look. He continued to stare at her blandly, awaiting her response.

  What the hell? Are my hormones showing me things that aren’t there? “What my brother and I talk about is none of your concern, Greye.” She noted the Westlake car sitting patiently outside. “But feel free to tell your drones we don’t appreciate being followed.”

  Hunter shrugged. “You don’t like the game, don’t play. I’m not here to suit your whims, Alex,” he said with a familiarity designed to annoy her.

  Instead of annoying her, the use of her name on his lips made her hot.

  “Why the hell are you here, Greye? What exactly do you want?” Cole asked in a low growl.

  WHAT DID HE WANT? WHAT a joke. Hunter forced himself to look away from Cole’s sister. A hard enough task on its own. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous. Long legs, pert breasts, eyes a man could drown in and lips that made him want to take and keep on taking. Since meeting her, she invaded his dreams, his waking moments... Hell, he couldn’t even fantasize about a woman without an image of Alexandra Sainte being there. He’d jacked off more the past week than he had in months. He could only imagine what her watchdog of a brother would do if Hunter leaned across the table and planted one on her ripe lips.