She scowled, probably at his calling her "baby cakes" in front of others. "As long as you promise me Kip, then count me in. Where's Asal anyway?"

Brock crackled into the headphones. "With a friend."

"She's safe." Jared wanted to reassure her and make her understand that he realized how important the kid was to her. The kid had given Sugar a knife, and on his list of things that earned points in his book, the kid had done her a solid, earning a lot of points.

He ripped open his bar and finished it. Disgusting raisins. Sugar hadn't touched hers. "You need to eat. Now."

"I will."

"My chopper, my rules. Open it. Finish it."

"Pushy bastard."

"You know it now, if you didn't before. Eat."

She smirked at him, unwrapped it, and took a big bite. "Hate stupid raisins."

"No one likes raisins. That's not the point."

Cash rummaged around. "I might have-"

"Shut it, Cash." Jared crossed his arms over his chest.

Shaking his head, Roman looked at Cash. "That's got nothing to do with raisins."

Cash glanced at them. "Total vibe-age. You can't take these two anywhere."

Sugar nailed him with a gird-your-loins glare. "Watch yourself, cowboy."

Cash wasn't wearing his cowboy hat, but it was Sugar's go-to name for him. Suited him well. Sounded good in a threat.

His men cracked up. Sugar chucked a bottle at Cash. They fell apart, laughing harder. Jared pinched his eyes shut, listening to the team whoop and holler. Sugar blended in with the boys, just as smoothly as Nicola and Mia did.

Maybe he was feeling her in a pull-her-ponytail kind of way. But vibing? Maybe he understood why she'd hightailed it away from their headache.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Air conditioning poured over Sugar as her hotel room door clicked closed. She took a deep breath, and the smell of a fresh, clean room almost overpowered her. The trip to Abu Dhabi had been a long one, what with stinky men and obnoxious banter along for the ride.

Far past exhausted, she didn't think she could sleep, but she had an hour and a half until she could meet Asal and Nicola. That free time could be killed with a long, hot shower.

Sugar spun on the marble floor, taking in the chandeliers and artwork in her suite. It must've been designed for royalty, and the walls had to have been gold plated. It was extravagant. The Titan boys lived well when they made pit stops in Abu Dhabi.

She walked farther in and... Oh my God. The building wasn't just a skyscraper hotel. It was a castle in the sky. Gorgeous furniture. One-of-a-kind art and decor. Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out from the sixty-third floor.

"Excuse me, miss." A uniformed man appeared out of nowhere. His exotic accent sounded beautiful. "I shall serve as your butler."

Sugar's mouth hinged open.

"If there is anything you need, please call for me." He gestured with the remote in his hand, then placed it on a carved table. Nodding, he backed out.

A butler? She'd heard that even the worst tourist hotels in Abu Dhabi dripped money, but this was world-view blowing.

The room phone rang. Finding the cordless on a table, Sugar wondered if it was the hotel staff or Titan. "Hello?"

"Everything okay in your room?" It was both, in the form of Jared acting like hotel staff. "Need anything? Nicola should've talked to the concierge and had some clothes delivered."

"I have a butler." It was all she could say.

"Comes with the Titan package, baby cakes. Anything else to complain about, or you handling yourself okay?"

Jared the prick was back in force, and it was oddly comforting. They'd barely said a word after she'd choked down her protein bar.

"All good, J-dawg. Thanks for asking."

They held the line, neither hanging up. Jared mumbled something more gruff than inaudible.

"What?"

"I'm coming to see you."

"I have to take a shower." She paced over to the closet. "Then I want to see Asal, check in with Nicola, meet the person from the United Nations watching-"

"They've been delayed. Everything's fine, but legal red tape on this one is complicated. You have no idea the favors I'm calling in so you can watch out for this kid." He grumbled again. "She'll end up in a safe place, though."

"Got it. Thanks." Sugar walked through the expansive living room, over ornate rugs, and into the bedroom. That bed was larger than a king-sized mattress. With a look around at the closed doors, she eyed the potential closet.

"Take a shower and throw on some new rags."

Holy Versace! The closet was filled with high-end, to-die-for stuff. She checked the tag. In my size! She liked Nicola better and better the more the two of them crossed ops. "I might get dressed, J-dawg. But, trust me, it won't be in rags."

He grunted. "Chop, chop."

The call ended, leaving the dial tone ringing in her ear. Chop, chop? More like ka-ching. She knew Titan was well-funded and the boys lived the high life when they weren't in the trenches. But butlered hotel rooms and designer civilian wear was enough to make her give them a harder time about working tough jobs.

She looked at her finger, which was still holding the tag. Grime coated. Caked with dirt. Disgusting. On a mission, she spun, tossing each layer of her clothes off as she walked to the bathroom.

Surprise, surprise. It was bigger than her entire bedroom at home.

Sugar eyed the shower and the Jacuzzi. Might as well live like the locals. She smiled and turned them both on. The shower would scrub away the layers of gross. The hot tub would soak away everything else.

Glancing at his watch, Jared tapped his boot. The elevator was taking too long, and the thing was the fastest one in the world. He had a million things going on, but he needed to talk to Sugar. Emphasis on the need, like it was a requirement, when it was most certainly not.

Just like he hadn't needed to hit the hotel gift shop and send every stuffed animal, bags of snacks, and a pad of paper to draw on to Asal's room. He'd spoken to Asal's United Nations babysitter, but she had issued a warning-chill out on the gifts, something about not wanting to overwhelm the kid. Seriously? If he'd grown up on the side of a desolate mountain and suddenly found himself in one of the poshest hotels in the world, stuffed animals and candy wouldn't be what shocked him. The running water and electricity would.

But he wasn't going to fight with the UN lady, not after all the strings he'd pulled. Nor was he going to listen. If the hotel gift shop received any new kid crap, then Asal was going to get it.

Back to his bigger headache. Sugar.

He reached her door and knocked hello with the toe of his boot. No answer. After another kick-and-wait, he let himself in. One of the perks of owning an equity stake in the place and housing his team there any time they swung by the United Arab Emirates: he could show up whenever he wanted, no invitation necessary.

The UAE Hotel room was a joke. All the suites were more like luxury apartments. Indulgence was one of the many benefits of having offices in Abu Dhabi and Dubai. They didn't spend much time there, but the time they did balanced the time they spent in swamps, deserts, and jungles while their enemies tried to kill them.

He'd found that people in Abu Dhabi treated caviar the way Americans did butter. There might have been more Ferraris and Lambos pacing the streets there than there were in Los Angeles. Too bad a few miles away, in hundred-degree desert heat, the ugly side of life existed. But the ugly side of life kept him in business. Despots. Tyrants. Arms. Drugs. Sex trade. This hotel was a bubble, and for the moment, he was okay with that.

He walked through the living room. No Sugar. Then he rounded the corner.

Bam! Strike to his throat.

Her fast hands retreated, and she moved to knee him. He spun them around the corner, slamming Sugar's hand to the wall, disarming the 9mm in her other hand.

"Easy there, killer."

"What the fuck? You can't just walk in here, creeping around."

He stilled against her. Her wet hair was tied up on top of her head, and her damp skin was wrapped in a towel. "I knocked."

"I didn't hear you." Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup.

Au naturale and too goddamn gorgeous.

"Not my problem."

"So you just walk in?" She pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Poor form, J-dawg."

He loosened the grip on her wrist and drew back. Sugar dropped an elbow above his collarbone and went for his goods again. He blocked her knee.

"What the hell, baby cakes?"

"I'm sick of you showing up places."

Her hair had fallen. Wet stands were strung across her face. The white towel barely covered the swell of her breasts. The rise and fall of her chest. The look in her eyes. The blood rushing through his body. It all pushed him to her again.

Deep within his chest, a growl vibrated up. "You want me to leave?"

She said nothing.

Slowly, he placed one forearm, then his other against the wall, caging her to him. His chest pressed against the towel. This was a good way to get her to run. Again. But he couldn't walk away.

"Say you want me out, and I'm gone." The scent of flowery, feminine shampoo beckoned him. He breathed her in. "But I don't think you will."

"You're a cocky son of a bitch."

He itched to touch her warm skin, to slide over its silkiness. "Not an answer."

"Too bad." She wasn't pushing away and hadn't kneed him again.

"I'm cocky. I see something I want, and I go after it. But you can have any guy you look at, so why you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not," she whispered.

His mouth nuzzled past her hair, to a delicate spot under her ear. The scruff on his cheek scratched over her soft skin. She was too gentle to have been on a mountain, weathering the elements.

"Now this is the second time I'm going to call you a liar." His teeth teased her earlobe. A staggered breath escaped her mouth. At the flick of his tongue, she tilted the angle of her head just a degree. He savored the kiss. "God, you taste good."

His hands slid down the wall until he felt the damp hair hanging over her bare shoulders. His fingers feathered into the wet strands, and his lips traced along her jaw, to her chin, then hovered over the fullness of her pink lips.

Her breath tickled him, and he closed the distance, covering her mouth. Electricity rolled down his spine, jackknifing his gut. Her fingers knotted into his shirt, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. Their tongues danced. She tasted as sweet as her name.

A furious need to hold her tight, to possess her, took over. It cleared away any thoughts like, Let's fuck and get it over with. In its wake, it left a confusion and anticipation that made him more determined to lose their towel barrier.

He ripped off his shirt, then ravaged her mouth. The plush towel brushed against his skin, teasing and enticing him. Sugar's hands caressed his biceps. Her fingertips scratched down his arms to where his hands wrapped around her waist.

She bit his lip, he opened his eyes. Midnight blue met his gaze as her lips smiled under his.

"Don't say anything that will ruin this, J-dawg."

Would you stop with the J- She loosened the towel with a flick of her finger, letting the white cloth fall open like a curtain. Gravity tugged the towel, and he'd never seen a more perfect body. He drank her in, his eyes slowly burning a path from her chin to her shins, memorizing the perfection in between.

Sugar grasped his belt, unclasped it, and then pulled it loose. It dragged and caught on every belt loop before it came free and clanged to the ground. His pants hung on his hip bones, and she smoothed her hand over his hard-on, testing the zipper.

"Condom?" she asked.

He nodded. "Condom."

Reaching to his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, and she slipped his pants and briefs down. Both her hands took him as he toed off his boots and socks. She slithered her fingers up, over his abs, into the smattering of his chest hair.

"Bedroom?" He kissed her lips, biting and exploring her sinful mouth.

She shook her head. "Not a chance."

Sugar never broke the kiss as she pulled him down to the rug. The landing was soft, and the fibers brushed over his back as she lay on top of him. His fingers entwined with hers. Everything moved quickly, releasing all the pent up should they, shouldn't they? But her curves begged for attention. He wanted to kiss and caress, bite and suck. He wanted her moaning because of him.

She took a breath and locked her eyes on his. "Condom. Now."

Hell, why try to change the course of a Sugar storm? The woman was on a mission. Who was he to slow things down?

He ripped open the foil, and in his gut, he was ready for more than a fuck. Something stronger. Something more intense. His brain had gone haywire. It was a dream come true, but the naked hurricane above him made it cloudy. "Sugar?"

"Please shut up."