Lost and Found (Masters and Mercenaries: The Forgotten Book 2) Read online

  She would be up in her two-bedroom apartment, in the room she’d meant to be a guest room but had somehow morphed into a second office. Even when she wasn’t at work, she was still there somehow.

  Should she start early? Talking to her father today hadn’t calmed her the way it normally would. He’d talked about her sister, Emma, and how she was giving the kindergarten teacher fits because she corrected her grammar.

  Maybe she should grab a beer and see what the college set looked like these days. She hadn’t partied a ton in college. She’d been far too young. By the time she was old enough to drink she’d been done with medical school, and then she’d married and been very serious about her career.

  She was sick of being serious.

  A massive white and brown ball of fur sat on a couch in front of the entrance to the bistro and a pretty woman with long brown hair held the leash. She was frowning down at her cell phone. The new chick in 7E. She and her husband had moved in two weeks before.

  She’d met the new residents a couple of times. Jax seemed quiet and more interested in his wife than anything else. River was one of those women who glowed in a way Becca didn’t quite understand. They were a mystery to her, but one thing wasn’t. There was one thing about the new couple she totally got.

  Becca dropped to one knee and petted that gorgeous dog. “Hey, Buster. How are you, boy?”

  The adorable mutt thumped his tail and practically vibrated with excitement. God, she loved dogs. No muss. No fuss. Just unconditional love. Maybe she should skip the dude and get a dog.

  Of course, the dog couldn’t take care of her other needs. Maybe she could have both. A dog and a nice male escort on speed dial.

  “Hey, Becca.” River glanced down, sliding her phone into her purse. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. It was a long day, but I think I managed to save a lot of women from some serious waxing in the future. Side effects. They get us every time.” She gave River a grin. It was fun to scare the general public. “How about you?”

  The smile River returned was slightly scared. “I’m so glad you could do that for the rest of us. I think I’m going totally hippie. I have some friends who swear they can cure everything with beets.”

  “Hey, there were beets in this formulary. If you like magenta urine, you should have at it,” she offered, managing to duck a hardcore dog kiss. Buster tended to go for the mouth. “You off for your nightly run?”

  River nodded. “Yep. I hope the boys can keep up with me. Just waiting on Jax. He ran upstairs to grab the bags. It does not pay to forget the bags because Buster here likes to poop. Don’t you, boy?”

  Buster got up and did a doggy dance, as though anything River said was the best thing in the world and he agreed.

  No one looked at her like that, with total unconditional love. They either obsequiously kissed her ass because she could get their research funded or hated her because she hadn’t funded their research. The dog thing could work. Not that she had a ton of time to take said beloved dog on walks.

  Maybe the escort on speed dial could also be a dog walker.

  “Hey, babe,” a deep voice said. “Got ’em. You ready for a run?”

  Of course no one had ever looked at her the way Jax looked at River either. Like she was the sun in the sky. Like the world had been dark before he’d met her.

  She probably wouldn’t get that from her fantasy escort.

  “I am.” River held her face up so her incredibly tall husband could drop a kiss on her lips.

  He looked over as Becca got to her feet again. “Hey, how’s it going? Looks like we’re getting some new neighbors. Someone’s moving in down the hall.”

  The rental agency had been quick. Only two days before, the Holders had moved out. From what she’d heard, the wife was pregnant and they were buying a place in the suburbs so they had more room.

  She hoped the new guys weren’t partiers. “University kids?”

  Jax shrugged. “Nah, they’re actual adults. Seem nice. Buster, get off that couch. They’ll love us though since we’ve already given them the gift of dog hair.”

  River grinned and leaned in. “It gets everywhere. You get used to it. Hey, I meant to come by and see you. We’re having a party Saturday night with a couple of friends of ours. A housewarming thing. This is our first real place since we got married. We were living in Jax’s sarcastic uncle’s basement for a couple of months before he got the job up here.”

  Jax shook his head, his relief apparent. “My uncle has three kids and is working on a fourth. Those kids are seriously going to be the reason for the next world war. I swear.”

  “That’s why they’re building an army,” River agreed. “I love it here. It’s so quiet, and no one has tried to burn the place down or practiced archery in a crazy, dangerous way. It’s peaceful. We’re never having kids. Only dogs. Lots of dogs.”

  “I would argue but I saw Kenzie modify a Nerf gun, and I’m pretty sure it’s lethal now,” Jax replied. “Buster can’t make weapons. Well, he sometimes gets gas, and that’s pretty powerful.”

  River lightly slapped her husband across his abs. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who sneaks him treats all the time. Dogs aren’t supposed to eat Twinkies. For that matter, humans shouldn’t either.” Jax laughed, but River glanced back at Becca. “Like I said, we’re having a party and we would love for you to come.”

  A party? With people? And food she didn’t order from a restaurant or microwave? “I’m totally in. I’m starting this new thing where I have a life outside of work. It’s weird. There’s this whole world and it’s not in the Huisman building. I’ve heard there are people out here who don’t care about neuroscience.”

  Jax chuckled at that one. “Yes, and if you come over Saturday, you’ll meet a couple of them.”

  River shoved the small container of bags in her jacket. “It starts at six and we’re having dinner. I say it’s a party but it’s only about six people. You would be seven. I’m making an insane amount of lasagna, so even if you only stop by for a bite, you would be more than welcome. We had a great group of friends back in Texas. We would love to have that here, too.”

  A group of friends. She had a group of coworkers, most of whom thought she was intimidating. Or awkward. The good news was she’d heard weird was the new chic. She’d seen it in a magazine on Cathy’s desk and everything. Melissa kept telling her that one day she would find a man who could appreciate her unique sense of humor.

  She hadn’t found him yet. Not even close.

  “I’ll be there.” It would be an excellent way to begin this new phase of her life. She would probably be the only singleton there, and that was fairly safe. Then she would go out with Cathy’s lawyer friend, and hopefully he was superhot and watched Marvel movies and was good at no-commitment sex.

  She waved good-bye to her new friends and walked into the bistro without looking back. Her dinner was in a bag and already paid for. All she had to do was pick it up and sign the bill, leaving a nice tip because they always had dinner waiting for her. Like clockwork. Everything running smoothly. Nothing out of place.

  Her whole evening was spread out in front of her. The rest of her life, when she thought about it. She got up, showered, ate oatmeal and drank one cup of coffee, went to work, ate lunch when Cathy put it in front of her, came home, picked up her daily dinner and stared at a screen until she passed out.

  Would going to the party Saturday night make a difference? She was stuck. It had been a good idea to put her head down and give herself some space, but she was caught in a routine, utterly stuck in a place she’d sworn she wouldn’t be again.

  She’d promised her mother that she would be happy. She wasn’t.

  It was far past time to work on herself.

  She walked through the bistro to the street and around to her building, putting in her code to open the door. At least the new people had decent taste, if that couch was any indication.

  She would wait until they ha
d time to settle in and then she would introduce herself. She was going to be a good neighbor. And maybe she could make some friends. Maybe it would be a couple of fun-loving career women she could drink wine with after a long hard day of busting the glass ceiling.

  Maybe they would know some nice male hookers.

  She needed to get her mind off sex.

  She glanced back at the entryway. A tall man with dark hair was talking to the movers. He frowned down at the couch and reached over, coming back with a pile of dog hair.

  She covered her mouth before she could laugh.

  He glanced up and his eyes widened.

  Nope. She wasn’t taking the fall for this one. She turned back and hurried toward the old elevator that always creaked and moaned as though it would give out at any moment. It was “vintage,” as the homeowners’ association would say. She caught sight of a man in a leather jacket entering the elevator and then the doors started their slow slide closed.

  “Could you hold the elevator, please?”

  A big hand came out and the doors opened again. She rushed in and turned to press the button for seven, but it was already lit. She looked up and into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She literally had to catch her breath. She’d heard the expression, and it was meaningful when it came to running hard or walking up a flight of steps, but she wasn’t out of breath because of anything physical. He was the single most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life.

  She turned her head to look at the metal doors.

  “What floor do you need?”

  And he was Scottish. That accent was sexy as hell and straight out of her every Outlander fantasy. She’d only read it because it had a surprising amount of medical knowledge in it. Herbs. She’d learned a lot about herbs. And that she thought Scottish men were sexy. She’d worked with a doctor a couple of years ago, much older than she was, and it hadn’t mattered because that accent had sent her heart skittering every time he opened his mouth.

  “Do you just like to ride up and down the lifts, lass?”

  She glanced up. They were already at three. “I’m going to seven, too.”

  “Lucky me. I was worried this thing wouldn’t make it to two different floors,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve got much better odds this way.”

  Where the hell had he come from? Obviously Scotland, but that wasn’t the point. The dude belonged on a movie screen. Whoa. There was another possible reason. “You wouldn’t happen to be a stripper?”

  Cathy had said she’d sent a surprise. He would be a total surprise.

  “Excuse me?” The hot guy with the gold and red hair turned to her, his full lips easing down into a frown that should have intimidated her but kind of made her hot. “Did you ask if I’m a stripper?”

  Her big mouth got her in trouble. She’d never learned to moderate. She often said whatever came into her head when she was flustered. Her father told her it was charming, but then she’d never asked her dad if he was planning on taking his clothes off for cash. “Sorry. I haven’t seen you around here before and my friend told me she was sending me a surprise. She’s a little on the perverse side, so a stripper could have been in the mix.” She looked up at the glowing light that indicated what floor they were on. The elevator was moving slower than usual. Four. Three more to go. “You’re insanely attractive so I thought movie star or stripper.”

  “Am I now?” His deep voice had gone from irritated to amused.

  “Oh, I think you know you’re insanely attractive.” She’d stroked his ego enough.

  Only another thirty seconds or so and she could run off the elevator and be in her apartment, and maybe instead of going over those accounting reports while listening to the news and eating her chicken sandwich, she would binge watch some Outlander. That might be fun.

  “A man likes to hear it, you know,” he replied, standing right beside her. If he moved a little, his arm would brush against hers. Not his shoulder. He had a good half a foot on her. And she bet he worked out. A lot.

  “Well, you’re very nice to look at. If you wanted to make it as a stripper, I think you could,” she said primly.

  One more floor and she could stop making an idiot of herself.

  “Nah, I’m shite at dancing,” he admitted. “I’ll stick to what I’m good at.”

  “And what’s that?” She couldn’t seem to stop talking.

  “Shooting things. I’m an assassin.”

  She turned to him, her eyes open wide, and that was the moment the elevator shook and came to a stop. Right between floors six and seven.

  And she was left stuck with a criminal.

  Chapter Three

  Oh, he liked the fact that he’d put that look on her face. She was far too flirty, but he got the idea she viewed him as amusing and nothing else. A pretty face. It oddly rankled. Odd because he’d never minded that before. A woman wanted a good time, he was her man. Something about the lovely doctor treating him like he was a lightweight bothered him.

  Thought he was a stripper, did she?

  “I think the elevator stopped.” Her voice sounded breathless. “Did you do that?”

  And she was naïve, or he was a far better actor than he gave himself credit for. It made him wonder though why she immediately thought he’d set this up. She was suspicious? That was interesting. “I work security, love. I was joking about being an assassin.” He held his hands up, letting his shoulders fall back so his jacket opened. “See, no guns.”

  He wouldn’t actually need a gun to take a person out. He might have forgotten everything about his past, but his body remembered how to kill.

  It might be the only thing he was good at.

  Besides, his Glock was in his bag, but she didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that the messenger bag he was carrying held a Glock, extra ammo, two knives, and a taser unit. It also held a file on one Dr. Rebecca Walsh that would likely have her clawing her way out of this lift.

  Her face had gone the sweetest pink. “It’s because I thought you might be a stripper, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged and looked at the lift’s panel. Seven was lit up, but it was obvious they were stuck. Oddly, he didn’t mind. It might be the longest he got alone with the target, and he was going to use it to get to know her a bit. After this, Robert would be the one trying to befriend her and he would stay to the background. “A man likes to be known for his brain. Eyes up here, lass.”

  She’d gone even pinker because sure enough, he caught her staring at his chest. “Sorry. I work with a bunch of doctors and medical techs. Despite what you see on TV, they are not all stunningly gorgeous. They know what abs are but not how to work ’em, if you know what I mean.”

  “You look quite fit.” She was different in person, more vibrant than any photo could convey. At first, he hadn’t actually recognized her. She’d slipped into the lift and all he’d thought about was how luscious her ass was in that skirt she was wearing.

  “Oh, I have to be. I wear a lot of spandex,” she said and then winced. “That came out wrong.”

  “Who’s the stripper now?” She was actually quite adorable, but in a surprisingly sexy way.

  He couldn’t help but think that if Robert hadn’t been such a bloody picky bastard, he would be the one standing out at the street, directing the movers. He wouldn’t be stuck briefly in here with the most intriguing woman he’d seen in forever. Well, in roughly two years, since he’d woken up with no knowledge of who he was.

  “I’m a doctor,” she shot back, but her lips had curled up as though she enjoyed the flirtatious air they’d found.

  He was supposed to be Robert’s husband. He didn’t want to be Robert’s husband.

  It didn’t matter. They would be out of here in a few moments and he would fade into the background. Hell, he could be bi for all she knew. It could help the op because he could be Robert’s cheating bisexual husband and they could commiserate because he was fairly certain she’d divorced her husband for similar reasons.
/>   The small phone on the panel rang and he picked it up. They needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. He wasn’t good at this part. Hell, he’d already announced to the target that he was a bloody assassin. This was Robert’s job. He was the one who would break into her apartment while Robert distracted her. That was what he was good at. “Is there a problem?”

  “Oh, eh, I was hoping no one was there. Sorry. The elevator seems to be broken,” a tinny voice said. “I got an alert on my phone.”

  “No shite, mate,” he replied. “And it’s definitely not empty. There’s two of us in here.”

  The doc was getting into his space. “If that’s Colin, you tell him he can’t just slap an out-of-order sign on the doors this time. I’m not living here for a week, damn it.”

  “Is that Doctor Walsh? Crap.” Colin sounded slightly terrified. “Uhm, look, I have a call in to someone who can fix it, but I have to get my dad to okay the cost.”

  “Your dad? How the bloody hell old are you?” Owen asked.

  “He’s barely twenty-two, but his father owns the building and wanted to retire,” Becca pointed out.

  “I don’t care how old you are, lad. You get someone to get us out of this bloody box.” He couldn’t be in here for hours.

  “Sorry. I’ll get you out of there as fast as I can,” Colin promised and the line went dead.

  Owen hung up and sighed. “Does this happen a lot?”

  She backed away quickly, as if she realized she was far too close for comfort. “Not too often, but the last time it happened it was several hours before they managed to get that sucker working. It depends on where we are. If we’re close to seven, they can pry the doors open and we can wiggle out. If we’re solidly in between, they’ll ask us to stay inside as long as there’s no danger. Are you claustrophobic?”

  She picked a corner and slid down to the floor, somehow managing to make the move graceful. She wore a black skirt, white blouse, and a prim pink cardigan. It made her look like a sweet little schoolteacher. The bottle in her hand was a contradiction. She’d reached inside her brown-and-white striped tote bag. He noticed she had a bunch of files in there, too.