Chapter 2

6 weeks later

Hard to fucking concentrate. It was hot as motherfucking Hades in Rayong, Thailand and all Mack could see was a pair of gorgeous melted caramel eyes every time he tried to do his job. Those eyes, that perfectly curved body, the woman. She was like a ghost that hadn't left him in four long months. It didn't make any damn sense. The harder he tried to shake her, the more entrenched she became.

He'd done the right thing. He'd walked away from her. The woman was too young, the sister of his business partner, Jane. His crazy-ass married-to-the-mob business partner. He'd done the right thing by leaving Lucy Miller in her happy, innocent little world, with her puppy-like fiancé who would probably worship the ground she walked on for the rest of his life.

Then why the fuck couldn't he get her out of his head?

He knew better than to let his thoughts dwell for too long on any single woman. He was letting his cock do the thinking. Hadn't he learned this hard lesson with his cheating bitch of an ex-wife? After she left him more than ten years ago, he'd gone to a dark place, taking risks with his life on a regular basis. For years, his life had consisted of drinking, shooting and chasing bond jumpers. Mack had always been reckless, but after Daniella destroyed what little peace he'd found in life, she also took the remnants of his humanity. Mack lost himself in the bottle for years, until the births of his niece and nephew along with healing time started to pull him back out of the darkness. An innocent like Lucy would've been horrified if she'd met that Mack. Hell, she was terrified of the Mack she'd met a few months ago, probably never wanted to see him again.

Even the beautiful and treacherous Daniella hadn't held his thoughts or attention for this damn long. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Was Thailand getting to him? He hated this damn country. It was hot and humid as fuck. The few people that cared about him didn't even know he was here. If his client double-crossed him, he could die in this shit-hole and no one would know – not his partner, not his sister, Tawny.

Mack checked his watch and frowned. Thoughts of Lucy had distracted him enough. He forcibly shoved the beautiful, young Amish girl from his head, rolled onto his side and propped his rifle up on the notch he set up. He was on the fourth floor of a building across the street from an upscale apartment complex. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, tickling him before soaking into the back of his T-shirt. He ignored the annoyance as he made slight adjustments to his scope, training his weapon on the sidewalk across the street where the politician's car would pull up within the next half hour.

Emptying his brain of everything but the kill, Mack did what he did best. He waited. And he hunted.

He was glad this job was almost done. He needed to get home. Check in with his partner, see how business was going. The bounties would be piling up. These side jobs were fun and lucrative. Kept him sharp, but he needed to finish up and get his ass back on the home front. Make sure his sister was keeping out of trouble. And, if he were being completely honest, see if Lucy Miller was finally in the city. He was ready to admit he'd failed at keeping her out of his thoughts. He needed to see her again. See if reality lived up to the memory. He suspected reality was going to be worse. Because this time he wasn't going to let her go. Now that she was on his turf, she wouldn't be leaving to run back to her safe little life with her safe little boyfriend. And this was probably going to cause problems with the Russians, seeing as how she was protected by them.

The mark chose that moment to appear, cautiously stepping from his building onto the sidewalk. Mack didn't hesitate. The moment the guy's head was in his sights, he pulled the trigger. As the man went down in a spray of blood, a boom echoed off the surrounding buildings. Mack rolled onto his back, his nimble fingers automatically pulling apart the pieces of his rifle.

His brain drifted from this kill onto other, prettier prey. She'd been in his sights from the moment he set eyes on her. Like her older sister, yet softer, less resilient. He'd thought about letting her go. Letting her run. But that was the problem with the hunter inside him. He loved the chase too much. As soon as she tried to run, she'd become his.

Fuck the Russians. Mack had been laughing in the face of death for years, he was up to the challenge.