The Troubleshooter: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Norcross) Read online

  He slid his hands under her ass and took a few sidesteps to a hall table resting against the wall. With one arm, he swept a wooden bowl off it. It clattered to the floor.

  He lifted her and set her ass on the cool metal.

  Gia attacked his shirt. She gave a few desperate tugs, and buttons pinged on the tiles.

  “Faster,” she panted.

  Then his shirt was gone, and she was distracted by his gorgeous chest and ink. She leaned forward and bit his pec.

  Saxon growled, his breathing harsh pants. He yanked a condom from his pocket and tore his fly open.

  Her gaze locked on his rock-hard cock. “Yes. Now.”

  He rolled the condom on, then yanked on the tie holding her dress together. With a quick tug, he unwrapped her. He jolted, his gaze crashing into hers.

  “I thought you were joking about the panties. All this time, at your parents, you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

  “Yes.”

  He shuddered. “Grip the edge of the table, Gia. This is going to be hard.”

  Every muscle in her body tightened. She gripped the cool metal, leaned back, her legs falling open.

  The scorching-hot look in his eyes seared her. He gripped her hips, leaned forward, and with one hard thrust, he was inside her.

  Gia cried out, heard his strangled groan.

  Her head dropped back against the wall. She felt so full, so stretched. “Saxon—”

  “Hang on, Contessa.” He pulled out, thrust back in. He started a fast, brutal rhythm.

  The table rattled with each thrust, each plunge of his cock filling her. A moan escaped her and she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her sandals digging into his back.

  It was a relentless assault on her senses. Pleasure drenched her and she gripped his shoulders, clawed at him.

  “Saxon, please.”

  With another hard thrust, her climax hit her—wild, hot, ruthless. She screamed.

  With a hoarse groan, he sank deep, one hand in her hair, tilting so her gaze met his. His eyes were intense. He watched her come, and she watched him groan through his own release.

  Then there was just their harsh panting.

  “I’ll never look at this table the same way again,” she murmured.

  He made a sound that might have been a chuckle. He caught her chin. “Next time, stay in the car.”

  She grinned. “Hot Stuff, I might need to explain consequences and rewards to you. If this is what I get when I get out of the car…”

  He tweaked her nipple, and her pussy rippled on his cock. He groaned.

  “Don’t move.” He pulled out, then disappeared to the downstairs powder room.

  She heard a toilet flush, then water running in the sink. He was back, wearing only his chinos. Hmm, that chest, that body.

  “I have heel marks in my back.” His gaze roamed over her.

  She must look like a picture, dress open, splayed on the hall table.

  He half turned and she bit her lip. She didn’t notice the heel marks, because she was too busy taking in the scratches. She’d drawn blood.

  Heat hit her cheeks.

  Saxon noticed her looking and grinned. He lowered his head to nibble her lips. “Gia Norcross, hellcat. My hellcat.” He lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Saxon!” He headed up the stairs.

  “We’re going to bed.”

  “It’s the afternoon.”

  “So?”

  “More sex will kill us.”

  He smacked her bottom. “We’ll go out smiling.”

  He did a lot more than put a smile on her face, and he did it for most of the night.

  When Gia awoke the next morning, she was sprawled sideways on his bed. She stretched and smiled. There were definite upsides to this “being targeted by bad guys” situation.

  She turned her head. Saxon was still asleep. His cock, for once, wasn’t hard, and lay against his powerful thigh. Sunlight stroked his body like it couldn’t get enough of him.

  She could do this every day. Wake up beside this man.

  The scars on his side caught her eye and her belly hardened. She crawled closer and kissed them, her lips moving lightly over the scarred skin. She sensed him wake.

  “Contessa?”

  She looked up and saw the serious glint in his eyes.

  “Tell me,” she said. “What you can.”

  He was silent for a moment. “A mission went bad. I got shot.”

  He sat up, and pulled her against his chest. She stroked her fingers over the scars.

  “We were in the middle of a bad area. Enemy all around us.”

  Her heart knocked hard in her chest.

  “Vander organized an evac, but it was ten miles through harsh terrain to get to the evac point. Rhys carried me.”

  She pressed her head to his chest, thanked God for her incredible brothers, and held on.

  “Rhys talked to me to keep me conscious. Vander, and the rest of the team, kept the bogeys off us.” A pause. “I told them to leave me.”

  She tightened her grip on him. No.

  “I knew I was dying. I was only slowing them down.”

  Gia made a sound. She could have lost him, this amazing man, before she’d ever had him. Emotion closed her throat.

  “But anyone with the Norcross name is stubborn. Your brothers got me out. They didn’t let go, didn’t give up.”

  She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. A tear rolled down her cheek, and he reached up and wiped it away.

  “We don’t let go,” she whispered fiercely. “Not of the things we care about.”

  He kissed her again.

  At that moment, the doorbell rang.

  Saxon frowned, but Gia was already moving.

  “Wait,” he said. “I’ll answer it.”

  She hunted around on the floor, pulled on his discarded shirt, and did up the remaining buttons. He found his pants.

  “I’m coming,” she said.

  He sighed. “Of course, you are.”

  She smacked a kiss to his mouth.

  “We’ll get rid of whoever it is, then I’m taking you out for breakfast.” Saxon ran through the safest places he could take her. “Or, at this point, it might be Sunday brunch.” They’d slept late again.

  “I love brunch,” Gia said.

  They headed down the stairs. She looked far too sexy in his shirt.

  “Maybe Vander has information?” Gia said. “Maybe he found Willow?”

  “If it’s your brother, he probably won’t appreciate an eyeful of his sister in my shirt.” With several bite marks on her neck.

  Although Saxon had a few marks of his own. He felt the sting of the scratches she’d left on his back and smiled.

  They reached the entry and he checked through the smoked glass panels flanking the doors. He spotted a couple standing on his doorstep

  When he looked through the peephole, he swallowed a curse. “Brace.”

  He opened the door to his parents.

  Rupert and Vanessa Buchanan were both dressed, pressed, and polished.

  Saxon didn’t look like either one of them, but rather a blend. Saxon had inherited his father’s face, but not his dark hair. That, he’d received from his blonde mother. His father had probably already played a few rounds of golf this morning, and fucked whoever was his flavor of the month.

  “Saxon.” His mother eyed his bare chest and tattoos, barely concealing her grimace.

  His father’s gaze dropped to Gia’s bare legs.

  Bastard. Saxon pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “To what do I owe this pleasure on a Sunday morning?” he asked sarcastically.

  Gia pushed into him, her hand pressed to his gut. The feel of her helped ease the inevitable resignation he got from dealing with his parents.

  “We want to take you to lunch,” his mother said.

  They never turned up on his doorstep like this. “Why?”

  His mother sniffed. “We haven’t caught up for some t
ime.”

  “Why?” he said again.

  His mother’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “We’re meeting friends—”

  Realization hit him. “Friends with the socialite daughter you want to marry me off to.”

  Gia’s fingers tightened on him.

  “She’s a nice girl,” his father said jovially.

  “I’m standing here, a grown man, with my woman in my arms, and you’re pulling this shit?”

  “Your woman?” His mother’s nose wrinkled. “Your women come and go, so I—”

  “Not this one.”

  Gia smiled up at him and he stroked her cheek.

  “Are you going to introduce us, son?”

  His father’s oily-salesman voice put Saxon on edge, as did him calling Saxon son.

  “Mrs. Buchanan and I already talked on the phone the other day,” Gia said sweetly.

  Uh-oh. Saxon recognized that tone. He wrapped his arm more securely around Gia. She was glaring at his mom.

  Vanessa Buchanan’s lip curled.

  “Gia, this is Rupert and Vanessa. Mom, Dad, this is Gia Norcross.”

  “Norcross?” His father frowned.

  Saxon’s mother stiffened. “That family. Always trying to worm their way into your life. Now this one has made her way into your bed?”

  Gia jerked, and he felt her muscles tense.

  “No, mother,” Saxon said. “I was always trying to worm my way into their family. A real family, with people who care.”

  “Golddiggers,” his mother spat.

  Gia turned her head. “Is she serious?”

  “Yes. Not to mention, my mother’s family lost all their money years ago. Marrying my father was the ultimate gold-digging exercise.”

  His mother gasped. “I come from a very good family.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word good, Mother.”

  “My brother is Easton Norcross,” Gia said. “He could buy and sell you a hundred times. And I have my own successful business. God, Saxon has more going for him than money and his name.”

  He smiled. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Quiet,” she said. “I feel a rant coming on.”

  “Have at it, Contessa.” He looked at his parents, and the poisonous feeling in his gut eased. Gia was like antivenom.

  “He didn’t worm his way into our family, we claimed him. First, my brother, then the rest of us, including my parents. We love him, just as he is. He’s ours.”

  Saxon’s chest locked. Loved him? He felt like the ground had fallen away from under him.

  “So, you can’t have him,” Gia finished.

  “I don’t need to listen to some whore wearing my son’s shirt,” his mother spat.

  “Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Saxon growled.

  His mother’s mouth snapped shut.

  “You ignore him, insult him, don’t support his choices. You’re terrible, selfish people. So, I think you should go.” Gia made a shooing motion with her hand.

  Saxon bit back a laugh. The Countess dismissing the peasants. His parents looked stunned. No one spoke to them like that.

  Looking at them, he realized that Gia was right. They were just weak, selfish people. It was never anything he’d done or didn’t do that had made them treat him the way they had.

  His mother bristled. “We are Saxon’s parents—”

  Gia straightened. “Saxon made himself who he is, with no help from you, so you can fuck off.”

  His father’s face turned red. His mother spluttered. “Well, I never—”

  Gia slammed the door closed. “Are you all right?” Worry edged her gaze.

  “Yeah.”

  “Really? I just swore at your parents.”

  “It was pretty fucking awesome.” He swept her up in his arms and kissed her.

  “Right, so brunch.” She pulled in a breath. “After that, I need champagne.”

  “You’ll have to wait, because I need to fuck you first.” He carried her towards the stairs.

  “Saxon, I’m starving!”

  He set her down on the stairs and decided he couldn’t make it to the bedroom. He swiveled her and pushed her down until her hands hit the stair above her. He slid his hands under her shirt and stroked.

  She gasped. “Oh, okay, but make it quick.”

  By the time they made it to Nopa for a late brunch, Gia was flushed from two orgasms. She sat in a booth across from him in the open, two-story restaurant North of the Panhandle, sipping her champagne. Nopa was always busy, and touted their food as urban rustic. Saxon just called it good.

  Gia looked beautiful in a pretty sundress and strappy sandals.

  “Your parents don’t deserve you,” she said.

  “I think I finally realized that.” He took her hand. “I stopped trying to please them years ago.”

  “But it’s ingrained in kids to want their parents’ love and approval.” She cocked her head. “You got expelled from your fancy private school so they’d notice you, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “Best thing I ever did.” He’d changed schools and met Vander, and his life had become infinitely better. If he hadn’t decided to join the Army like Vander, he might very well be the rich, useless man his parents wanted.

  She squeezed his hand. “I don’t think your parents are capable of loving anyone but themselves.”

  Saxon looked up and saw a man moving across the restaurant toward them. He froze.

  Gia frowned. “Saxon?”

  “Good morning.” The man was older, with gray hair and round cheeks, and even though it was Sunday, wore a three-piece suit.

  When Gia stiffened, Saxon realized she knew who their visitor was.

  “Mr. Buchanan, we’ve never had the pleasure,” the man said.

  “Sackler.”

  Gia straightened in her chair.

  “I don’t know your lovely companion.” Sackler smiled at Gia, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes.

  “I think you know exactly who I am, Mr. Sackler.” She smiled sharply. “I especially liked taking down the goons you sent after us yesterday.”

  The man’s smile dimmed, his gaze boring into Saxon’s. “I hear that Norcross Security has a reputation for getting things done. I suggest not sticking your nose in where it is not wanted.”

  Saxon kept his face impassive.

  Gia scoffed. “Vander does whatever the hell he feels is right, Mr. Sackler. So, your veiled threats are wasted on us.” She lifted her champagne flute and sipped.

  “I want my diamond back.”

  “We don’t have it,” Saxon said. “And it sounds like you lost it fair and square. Don’t go after my woman, who is also Vander’s sister, or we’ll stick our noses in so far, it will get pretty fucking uncomfortable for you.”

  Sackler glared at them. “A pleasure to meet you both.”

  Gia smiled. “Sorry, I can’t say the same.”

  The man ambled off.

  “Boy, you have to deal with more assholes than I do at work,” she muttered.

  “I need to call Vander.” Sackler had well and truly entered the game, and it wasn’t giving Saxon a very good feeling.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Albert Sackler had really put a dampener on their Sunday.

  “We need to find Willow and those damn gems,” Saxon ground out. He was driving the X6 with ruthlessly leashed anger.

  Gia leaned back in her seat. “I take it that Ace hasn’t tracked her down?”

  “She’s not staying at any other fancy hotels. And he’s checked high-end Airbnbs and other rentals, as well.”

  “She won’t stay somewhere like that again. I know you don’t like her, but she isn’t dumb.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’ll have Ace widen the search.”

  “I know a few of her old hangouts. We could check them out.”

  Saxon glanced at her, thought it over, then nodded. “Not exactly what I had planned for today. We need to change clothes.”

  Back at Saxon�
��s, Gia changed into her favorite J Brand jeans, a pair of boots, and an olive-green tank with a lightweight, gray cardigan.

  She met him in the kitchen.

  He looked up and shook his head. “You still look like you should be at a fashion show.”

  “I don’t do scruffy, Saxon.” She eyed him, her heart doing a little dance in her chest. “You should wear jeans more often.”

  His jeans were faded in all the right places, and fit him in a way that made her mouth go dry. A navy-blue T-shirt stretched over his chest, the bands on the sleeves cutting into his muscled biceps. Sunglasses were hooked over the neckline.

  Saxon Buchanan in casual mode. Yum.

  “I spoke with Ace,” he said. “He’s running more searches.”

  Gia swung her leather DKNY tote over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “You got your Ruger in there?”

  “Yes, Mr. Overprotective.”

  They headed out, the X6’s engine growling as Saxon drove them down the street. “Where to first?”

  “A bar that Willow spends a lot of time at in the Mission District.”

  When they pulled up at the bar, Saxon didn’t look happy. The place was worn, and more than a little seedy.

  They walked inside and Gia headed for the bar. An older lady, with wrinkles around her eyes and gray-streaked hair in a ponytail, was wiping down the bar’s scarred, wooden surface.

  “What can I get you?” she asked with a deep voice.

  “Just a Diet Coke, please.” Gia sat on a stool. Saxon was pressed right up against her, scanning the bar.

  The woman brought Gia her drink.

  “I’m a friend of Willow Richards. Have you seen her?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Not for a week or two.”

  Bummer. Gia let out a sigh.

  “Last time she was here she didn’t pay her tab.”

  “Sounds like Willow,” Gia said.

  The bartender scowled. “She in trouble?”

  “No,” Gia answered.

  “Yes,” Saxon said.

  Gia shot him a glare. The bartender just raised a brow.

  “Yes.” Gia blew out a breath. “I’m trying to help her, but she doesn’t make it easy.”

  The woman’s face softened minutely. “I’ve got a daughter like that. Been a few people in looking for Willow.”