Page 17 of Cross Point

Unconcerned that she was sitting there naked, she picked up the gun she’d left on the patio table, swiveled around in her chair, and trained her weapon at the front door of the suite through the opened balcony door. She silently watched as a man in a suit walked through the door. Since he was cast in shadows, she couldn’t see him very clearly. Chastising herself for not leaving the entrance hallway light on, she made a mental note to do so in the future.

“You might as well come out here,” Trinity called out conversationally.

He froze as soon as she’d spoken. His gaze shot toward the balcony as the front door closed quietly behind him so he was trapped inside the suite with her.

That was his mistake.

“If you try to run now, I’m just going to shoot you in the leg.”

His face had turned to stone at the threat, but his expression shifted again and he blinked in surprise when he noticed that she was sitting there naked. She could feel the heat of his gaze moving over her body. Obviously, he wasn’t an operator or an assassin. Or at least he wasn’t a very good one if he let himself be distracted by a pair of naked tits instead of focusing on the weapon trained on him.

He released the handle of his large suitcase and cautiously moved forward, crossing the room as he made his way toward the balcony door. He held his hands out, arms spread to show he wasn’t holding anything, but that didn’t change the fact that he had trespassed into her domain.

He’d better have a damn good reason for it before she let him go unscathed.

“I’m unarmed.”

She could hear the slight British accent coloring his deep voice. Boy, did she love a good accent. As he stepped out onto the balcony, she got her first good look at him. His handsome face bathed in the light from the setting sun was truly a spectacular view…and familiar.

So, this was Maxwell King, her friend Julian’s little brother.

Only, he wasn’t so little.

Around six-one with short, stylish, dark-blond hair and the thick build of a man with some serious muscle, Maxwell was gorgeous. There was no doubt about that, but he knew it, too. She assumed at first glance that he was around her age, give or take a few years. He looked slightly different than the pictures she’d seen of him, but there was no mistaking those brilliant sapphire blue eyes.

She had read up on the entire King family on her way to the island. IAD had comprehensive files on them from previous dealings and since Tara had gotten engaged to Julian. Maxwell King’s main home was in London, but he spent a lot of time traveling between all the European hotels within the Palace Hotel network as well as several of their US properties on the East Coast.

The epitome of the corporate shark, he was handsome, wealthy, and pretty damn ruthless. While he was known as a popular playboy who was often photographed at events with models, singers, and other female celebrities, the actual details about his life were mostly kept private. She’d spent some time scrolling through his feeds during the flight to the island to get a better sense of him, but all of his posts were work-related and crafted to draw attention toward the Palace Hotel brand.

Dressed in a bespoke suit, Maxwell did not look like a man on vacation. He seemed like a man on a mission. From the information she had read earlier, Trinity knew that the Palace Resort and Spa on Crescent Island was his personal pet project, and he was obviously there to find out what the hell was going on with the build.

She felt her nipples tighten as his gaze strayed down to her bare breasts, then lower to her crossed legs. It was a shame she hadn’t met him before she had bumped into Jackson. Already burned once during her little pseudo-vacation, she wasn’t about to jump back into the fire. And certainly not with someone like Maxwell King, no matter how his heated gaze stirred her blood.

Talk about an awkward first meeting.

“What are you doing in my suite?”

He raised an arrogant brow. “Actually, this is my suite. Of course, I’m not going to complain about having a beautiful woman greet me naked upon my arrival. However, I would be a whole lot happier without having a gun pointed at me.”

She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. Gesturing toward a chair with her gun, she said, “Have a seat, Max.”

Those sapphire eyes frosted over as he slowly sat down across the table from her, his backbone ramrod straight. “So, you know who I am,” he said, his voice clipped with controlled fury. “The name is Maxwell, not Max. What do you want? Money?”

“Actually, I’m here doing you a favor, Max,” she said, stressing the nickname just to piss him off again. “So, get over yourself, hotshot. You know Tara Toshi, right?”

If it was possible, Maxwell’s body tensed even more. “If you’re here looking for information on my sister, you can bugger off. I won’t tell you anything.”

She cocked her head to the side as she studied his handsome face. He looked at her with cold indifference now, but there was no mistaking the seething fury in his tone or the anger lighting his eyes to blue flames. Damn, that simple statement made her like him a whole lot. Loyalty. He had it in spades. She believed if she’d been here for nefarious reasons, Maxwell would have protected her friend, even if it meant his death.

“She’s not your sister…yet.”

“Semantics.”

She finally smiled at him, lowering her weapon. “Damn good answer. But what I meant was Tara and Julian asked me to come here.”

“You could have bloody well said that to begin with,” he said blandly, but there was relief in his gaze.

“True, but this was more fun, and you kind of deserved it after walking in on me.”