Blitz-Wide Giveaway: Lie With Me – Gwen Hernandez

Old betrayals, new enemies, and a second chance at forever.

On a mission to expose the crimes of a powerful man, Emma Gallagher’s informant is killed before he can hand over the proof she needs. When the man who once broke her heart gets the files instead, she’ll use their fierce attraction, his guilty conscience…whatever it takes to recover the evidence to bring a murderer to justice.

Former special operator Jason Chin was hired to protect his wealthy client’s interests, but when an assassin attacks Emma, he’s forced to rethink everything he knows about the job, the choices of his past, and the woman he never stopped loving. On the run with her, he risks it all to outwit a deadly enemy and convince Emma to be his future.

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“This is your chance at fifteen minutes of fame.”

“I’ve already had mine.” Turning away from Nat with a sigh, he gave Emma’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go, and she immediately missed his warmth. “It’s someone else’s turn.”  

He’d had far more than fifteen minutes. She cocked her head and squinted against the low sun to look up at him. “Did you like any of it?”

He laughed without humor. “Of course I did. All that attention, being treated like a superstar, it feeds the ego hard.” Removing his hat, he ran a hand through his short hair and tucked the cap into a side pocket on his shorts. “But I also hated it.”

“How come?” She knew part of the answer. He’d once explained to her the unique pain of being wanted for his looks and what he represented—the fantasy he could fulfill—rather than for himself. Or just as bad, being wanted as a stepping stone to someone else considered even more desirable. Unfortunately, all of that had played into their breakup.

Rolling his lips in, he hesitated. Before she could withdraw the question for being too nosy, he said, “Because there’s no privacy, no anonymity. You’re not a person anymore, you’re a commodity, an idea. Dumb jock, playboy, pretty face. Every party you go to, every stupid thing you do, people who claim to be your friends are taking notes, taking pictures, and looking for a way to take advantage. And that was before social media and a smartphone in every pocket.” He shuddered. “I can’t even imagine now.”

“The dark side of fame.” She’d hated how much attention he got when they were out, especially from the women, many of whom had felt like they could touch him freely because he’d let someone put a picture of him in his underwear on a billboard.

He glanced at her, maybe wondering if she was being facetious. “Obviously, it was a privilege to play football, and to have my tuition and everything paid. But there are a lot of expectations. By the time you and I met, I was mostly done with it, but football’s a full time job on and off the field. It’s not all roses and sunshine, and the modeling gig only exacerbated things.”

“I remember.” As someone who now spent her life trying to go unnoticed, just the thought of being in the spotlight made her shiver.

“So, what’s your excuse?” he asked.

“For not wanting to be interviewed?”

He nodded.

She shrugged. “I’d rather write the story than be the story.” True enough. “And whoever was behind the shooting…I’d rather not be on their radar, you know?” Probably too late, but the sentiment stood.

“Absolutely.”

They walked toward the Altstadt—Lucerne’s old town—in silence, skirting around the growing crowd of bystanders and media, her gaze skimming for familiar faces or watchful eyes. After three years in the business, counter-surveillance was becoming automatic.

Emma didn’t yet have a precise plan for getting the SD card from Jason, but she was surprisingly grateful for his presence.

She had sat in cars with lecherous old men happy to take money to betray their bosses, met informants in sketchy places, and been the only woman in a bar full of handsy trust fund bros. She could’ve dealt with today’s events alone too. But thanks to Jason, she didn’t have to.

They weren’t even talking about what had happened and she still felt better with him at her side. Guilty, and exhausted, and grumpy about having to lie to him, but…better.

Yet she couldn’t get caught up in the moment. She had to get the drive—preferably without him realizing he’d ever had it—try to determine if he or anyone in Renfro’s orbit was involved in Viktor’s death, and then she had to disappear.

With a sigh, she turned a corner and aimed for one of the less crowded cafés. Seconds later, a familiar face appeared in the reflection of a shop window and her pulse quickened.

Go time.

571:

“I’m just a little on edge,” Emma said.

“Understandable, given what happened today.”

On a long sigh, she crossed her arms in a protective manner. “Would it…?” She bit her lip and looked down.

“What?” he prompted, shifting closer.

Lifting her head, she shyly met his gaze. “I could really use a hug. A real one.”

His stomach dipped. The one in the bookstore had been real enough to scramble his senses. What would this one do to him? But how could he turn her down? If she was willing to make herself vulnerable, he could too.

Without a word, he opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, sliding her arms around his waist. He held her snugly, letting the warmth of her settle his own troubled heart. There might have been nothing he could do for Viktor, but he could help Emma—and himself—through this.

Jason’s pulse leveled out, even as the air around them shimmered with awareness. He rubbed his palm slowly up and down her spine, feeling her muscles relax. She gave a low hum of contentment against his chest.

He’d been a goddamned fool in college.

Easing back slightly, Emma looked up at him. Her eyes were the clearest blue he’d ever seen, ringed in navy, and full of intelligence.

Something delicious tripped through his veins as she slid one hand slowly up his torso, never breaking eye contact, and cupped his jaw. His breath sped up, but he held himself still, letting her set the pace as she rose onto her toes and simultaneously drew him down.

The first kiss was the gentlest of caresses and still his body tightened with desire. She came back for more and he eagerly returned the favor, relearning the shape of her soft lips, the minty taste of her as she opened for him. Not in a million years had he expected to have another chance.

Her right hand skimmed over his back, his buttocks, across his abs, and down the front of his thigh.

His dick throbbed and hardened, aching for her touch.

God, the overwhelming lust transported him right back to the front walk of her dorm and a first kiss that still stunned him on the rare occasions he let himself think about it. Being with her again brought all the old hurt and longing to the surface. Kissing her was easy. Dealing with the emotional turmoil it raised was not.

Jason wanted to pull away, to slow things down, to find another way to ease the pain and fear she needed to vanquish. But, Jesus, her lips and tongue were instruments of heaven, and her hands were all over him now, lifting his shirt, dipping into his pockets, torching his skin while he gripped her hips and fought for control.

You both just watched a man die.

The reminder was a splash of cold water on his libido.

“Emma,” he whispered against her mouth, unable to stop himself from nipping her lower lip as he loosened his hold. “Emma, take it easy.”

She gasped and pulled out of his embrace, breathing hard, her hands balled into fists where she clasped them to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

The disoriented look in her eyes made his heart clench, and he pocketed his own hands to keep from reaching for her. It wasn’t just gallantry on his part, it was self-preservation.

806:

we should check our clothes for tracking devices.”

“Okay.” At this point, he shouldn’t be surprised by anything that came out of her mouth.

They stared at each other for a second and then turned toward opposite corners by unspoken agreement.

He tried to ignore the rustling of her clothing as he shucked his shorts and turned them inside out looking for bugs.

Nothing.

Likewise, he found nothing in his shirt, shoes, or socks. The only person who’d even come close to touching his underwear was Emma, so he wasn’t worried about it, but he gave himself a thorough pat-down anyway.

Emma cleared her throat. “Can you, um, check my back?”

“Sure.” He spun to face her and his throat went dry at the sight of her pale back and bare legs, her beautiful body covered only by a wide bra strap and bikini underwear.

“Anything I can’t see?” she asked, holding her hair off her neck with one hand.

His mouth watered at the idea of slipping his hands around to cup her breasts and pressing his lips to the base of her neck. She’d become imprinted on his psyche at age twenty-two, so despite her recent duplicity, being in such close quarters was wreaking havoc on his hormones.

He forced himself to scan her skin and lingerie for stuck-on devices or wires and willed his inconvenient erection to settle.

“No,” he croaked. “All clear.” Facing the wall again, he said, “Check me?”

“Yeah.” She sighed deeply, but was otherwise quiet for a long moment.

He could feel her heat, so close. Reciting old football plays helped bring his response mostly back under control. “Any concerns?” he asked, desperate to cut the tense silence.

A cool finger skimmed across his lower back and he jerked in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I— What happened?”

His scar. Of course. “I was hit by shrapnel from a roadside bomb in Afghanistan.” The physical injury had been fairly minor actually. He’d been treated and released back to work within a couple of weeks. The mental fallout from losing teammates…maybe he still hadn’t fully recovered.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Desperate for some kind of barrier, he ripped the sales tag off a T-shirt they’d bought for him on the way over, and slipped it over his head. The thin cotton was gray with a distressed Swiss flag on the front. Total tourist bait.

From less than a foot away, the murmur of cloth sliding across skin stirred his senses anew.

“That must’ve been scary,” Emma said quietly, the sound of her voice echoing off the far corner.

It had been, but mainly because it had rendered him useless for tending to those with more serious injuries. “Let’s get on with this,” he said.

She didn’t press him further, and they finished dressing in silence.

When they both turned around, Emma wore dark jeans, low-profile sneakers, and a thin white sweater over her blue tank top.

“You have a full wardrobe in there?” he asked, only half teasing. At this point, he should probably assume she was carrying a magically expanding bag.

She shrugged. “I like to be prepared for anything.”

“So, no bugs?”

“Nope. You?”

He shook his head.

“All right, let’s get to work on our new looks.”

Emma went first, making quick work of a shoulder-length honey-blond wig that worked well with her fair skin and blue eyes. Staring into a compact mirror, she used an eyebrow gel to subtly lighten her brows and added winged eyeliner.

“Wow. You look like a completely different person.” The transformation was stunning. “I’m definitely going to be the weak link in our subterfuge.” Hard to hide his size or skin color.

She clucked her tongue. “We’ll see.” After adjusting a few of the soft waves around her face, she turned her attention to him. “You okay to let me do this?”

He swallowed hard under the full power of her gaze. “Definitely.” Wrong. He hadn’t accounted for the torture of having her concentrate so fully on him, her breasts at eye level while he kneeled on a stack of paper towels, her fingers stroking his scalp as she put on a wig liner and then adjusted the wig.

Stifling a groan, he surreptitiously pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch in a vain attempt to control his body’s response to her coconut scent and soft touch.

Or maybe he made a noise after all, because her gaze crashed into his, eyes wide, pupils dilated. “All done,” she whispered, but her palms still cradled his cheeks, her fingers pressing lightly against his skull. Her tongue snuck out to wet her lips, drawing his attention to her pink, plush mouth.

New appearance aside, she was all Emma underneath, and he strained toward her, drawn by an invisible thread of desire.

429:

Jason’s thumb skimmed her cheek, pulling her back into the moment and their immediate need to escape notice. “Can I kiss your neck?” he asked softly, short-circuiting her thought process as his callused hand slid down to her jaw.

She shivered. Her neck? Why was that idea so freaking hot? “Yes,” she whispered, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the water swishing gently at the bottom of the steps.

The second his lips touched the sensitive spot beneath her ear, her nerves staged a riot. She felt every press and slide of his mouth as if he were kissing directly between her legs, and she clamped her knees together in a vain attempt to quell her surging arousal.

She moaned involuntarily, no longer feeling the chill of the night air.

Jason froze, his breath hot against her bare skin.

“What?” she asked in a low voice. Had the men spotted them?

“Jesus, Emma,” he said, his voice muffled against her neck. “I… Fuck.” With a tortured groan, he lifted his head and kissed her full on the mouth.

She turned to molten lava at the soft, urgent press of his lips, the questing slide of his tongue. Desire bit her hard. She angled her head to give herself better access, to let him all the way in as her hands roved over the hard muscles of his chest. His kiss was a high like the purest mountain air, the sweetest of desserts. How would she ever get enough? Why would she ever stop?

Low voices rumbled with laughter, passing several feet away, but she ignored them. If it was the goons sent to find her, acting like obsessed, unaware lovers was probably the best of disguises. Anyone else didn’t matter.

Jason’s muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t stop the drugging kisses. Instead, he shifted sideways and moved closer, his body surrounding her like a protective shell.

He’d been good at this in college, but they clicked together in a new way now. Equally good, maybe better. She wanted to shed her sweater—hell, everything. Including the pain of their past and the reality of their present.

Metal slammed on metal with a loud bang that startled them apart with nervous laughter. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful. She and Jason had come to a truce, but she was still going after Byron and Blue Bear.

Falling under Jason’s spell again would only make what she had to do harder. She ignored the voice in her head that said it was too late.

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