His breath was hot against my throat, voice rough. "Maxime."
Hearing my name on his lips sent me over the edge. My climax tore through me, back arching as I spilled across his hand and my stomach.
He followed moments later, rhythm faltering as he came. He pulsed inside me, hot and wet. His face contorted, mouth falling open as he gasped my name.
For long minutes, we lay entwined, hearts slowing, breath returning to normal. The city sparkled beyond the windows, oblivious.
He withdrew finally, leaving me empty but sated. Instead of moving away, he gathered me against his chest, arms wrapping around me. His fingers traced the fresh marks on my throat, my shoulder, my chest.
"Beautiful," he murmured against my hair, thumb stroking the deepest bite mark. The touch sent a pleasant ache through the tender skin. I pressed closer.
His skin was warm and damp. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in while the marks on my body throbbed with sweet tenderness.
I lifted my head after a moment, studying his face in the silver light. The sharp lines had softened. I leaned down and kissed him, soft and reverent, tasting salt on his lips.
"I love you," I whispered against his mouth.
His eyes opened. "I love you too," he said simply. As if it were the most natural truth in the world. He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Sleep," he murmured into my hair. "A few hours. Then we end this."
I pressed closer to his warmth, memorizing the sound of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers traced patterns on my spine. In a few hours, we'd board the jet for Macau and face Shaw together.
But for now, in this bed, in his arms, I had everything I'd ever wanted.
Everything I'd spent thirty-two years convincing myself I didn't deserve.
The Golden Dragon Casinodominated the Macau skyline. Glass towers rose from a gold-accented base, the lower levels cluttered with ornate Chinese motifs and digital displays. Shaw had claimed the top floors for his regional headquarters, converting luxury suites into his personal monument.
The whole place was tacky.
The woman walking three paces ahead of us was not. Ling Wei moved through the VIP corridor like she owned it, which in many ways she did. Boone's former MSS contact had traded government intelligence work for corporate efficiency five years ago, climbing to VIP operations manager at the Golden Dragon through a combination of competence and carefully applied blackmail. She was tall for a Chinese woman, with sharp cheekbones and black hair pulled into a severe bun that emphasized the angles of her face. Her charcoal Chanel suit probably cost more than most of Shaw's security guards made in a month. Late forties, I estimated, though she carried herself with the coiled alertness of someone half her age.
The two million I'd transferred to her Cayman account guaranteed twelve hours of cooperation. Loyalty was never for sale, but calculated risk management could be purchased.
"Security checkpoint ahead," Ling murmured. "Five guards. Rotational shift change in thirty seconds."
Maxime's hand brushed mine in a silent signal. He carried only his sidearm for this phase, with no gunshots permitted until we reached Shaw's office and no shell casings to leave behind.
My hip throbbed with each step. The barometric pressure in Macau was hell on surgical pins.
Ling approached the checkpoint with a dazzling smile, rapid Cantonese flowing. "Distinguished investors," she explained in English to the lead guard. "Mr. Shaw requested a private tour before tomorrow's expansion announcement."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "I received no notification."
His earpiece crackled, and Xavier's voice came through our comms, confirming he'd fed the security codes remotely from Cincinnati. The guard relaxed.
"Please proceed."
Twenty meters beyond, Ling's smile vanished. She nodded toward the service corridor. "Maintenance access as promised. Camera feeds on eight-second delays. Our arrangement concludes here." She slipped a keycard into Maxime's hand. "Upper floors require biometric authentication. This bypasses once."
Her eyes met mine. "Shaw killed my brother during the Beijing acquisition. Consider my cooperation a business transaction with beneficial externalities." She turned away without waiting for acknowledgment.
The service corridor light flickered as the first guard rounded the corner. Maxime moved with his hand over the man's mouth and delivered a precise strike to the temple that dropped the body without a sound.
The second guard reached for his radio, and my cane caught him beneath the jaw to crush his larynx. He dropped.
Three more emerged from the security station. Maxime glanced at me, and I nodded.
He was efficient, as he always had been. The first guard never saw the strike coming. The second reached for his weapon, but Maxime was inside his guard, driving an elbow to the temple before the gun cleared the holster. The third leveled his weapon at me.
