Claiming Lily: MacKay International, #2

by Webb, Rene

  Claiming Lily

  MacKay International, #2

  Rene Webb

  Copyright © 2019 by Rene Webb

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional.

  Table of Contents

  Also By Rene Webb

  1. Finn

  2. Lily

  3. Lily

  4. Finn

  5. Lily

  6. Finn

  7. Lily

  8. Finn

  9. Lily

  10. Finn

  11. Lily

  12. Finn

  13. Lily

  14. Finn

  15. Lily

  16. Lily

  17. Finn

  Excerpt from Finding Sunshine (A Pinetree Romance, #1)

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Rene Webb

  About the Author

  For: My father, who will probably never read the following pages but deserves recognition for all of his love, encouragement, support, and ridiculous plot suggestions.

  Also By Rene Webb

  MACKAY INTERNATIONAL SERIES

  UNCOVERING LILY (MacKay International, #1)

  PINETREE ROMANCE SERIES

  FINDING SUNSHINE (A Pinetree Romance, #1)

  LOVE FOUND (A Pinetree Romance, #1.5)

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  A WHITE HOT CHRISTMAS

  Claiming Lily

  Lily

  I may have been rescued from the brothel, but my safety is still in question. My captors are on the hunt and closing in. Finn and I must team up to unravel the truth behind my kidnapping and take down those responsible.

  Despite the danger and trauma, I have found safety with Finn. After one night together, he wants to claim me as his own. Am I willing to let him own me completely?

  Will Finn be able to convince me that I want to be his, before my family interferes?

  1

  Finn

  Mid-April – Hong Kong

  My anger at our fucked-up situation and the crowded bus has me feeling both jittery and suffocated. Grounding myself, I tighten my hold on Lily and rest my cheek on the top of her head. “I promise, Lily, Mayer will pay for what he’s done.”

  “Who are you?” Lily pushes out of my embrace and smacks my chest, demanding an answer.

  We have regained the attention of those around us, and I turn my head to scowl at them. They quickly look away.

  Smiling, I turn back toward Lily, amused that despite how intimate we’ve been since last night, she still doesn’t know my name. “Xavier Finch.”

  “Xavier Finch,” Lily parrots back, and I see recognition dawning on her beautiful face. Despite the fact we haven’t seen each other since she was a teenager, she knows who I am—her cousin Peter’s best friend and business partner. “As in Finch Distributing?”

  “Yes,” I tell her brightly, enjoying her shocked expression as she realizes who I am and how I am connected to her.

  The bus lurches, and Lily falls forward into my chest. Her thin arms wrap around my waist as she anchors herself to my body.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I say, tightening my hold on her. I’m never fucking letting go.

  My princess is relying on me to keep my shit together and to get us out of the fucked-up situation we’ve found ourselves in. Last night I had begrudgingly met with a new business contact, Robert Ban, at his favorite exclusive brothel, Executive Hospitality Limited, here in Hong Kong. Our meeting started with constructive negotiations, and I felt good about the prospects of us doing business together. That all turned to fucking shit when we entered the large lounge where the entertainment was. It was there I found Lily, barely dressed and serving drinks to the other men, all while avoiding being molested.

  After an unforgettable night getting to know one another—in every way possible—we successfully walked out of the brothel she had been held captive in for almost three weeks. Not before an armed confrontation with the asshole manager and his muscle, who runs the place. Thank fuck for my Krav Maga training. The manager informed us that James fucking Mayer, Lily’s fucking stepfather, was the one who had her kidnapped in the first place. It was clear his plan had been to have her for himself and profit from whoring her out. Thank fuck I got her out before his planned arrival.

  The blaring of horns turns Lily’s and my attention toward the windows. I crane my head to see outside and notice an all-too-familiar black SUV swerving through traffic and trying to get closer to the bus.

  Fuck.

  “We need to get off at the next stop.” With my arms still wrapped around Lily, I push our way closer to the door.

  “What?”

  “They’re following the bus,” I tell her, attempting to infuse my voice with calmness. The last thing I need is for her to start having a fucking panic attack.

  “What the fuck are we going to do?” Lily demands, looking around frantically.

  “We are going to get out with the crowd, walk a few blocks in the opposite direction, and jump into a cab.”

  Hopefully, the men from the brothel won’t be able to turn around and catch up with us before we have a chance to grab a cab. The bus is slowing down when I realize we cannot go back to the hotel I’m staying at. Last night, the brothel sent a driver to pick me up there, so it’s the first place they’ll come looking for me—for us. Fuck.

  Exiting the bus along with the other passengers, I grab Lily’s hand, then steer us in the opposite direction. We walk quickly on the inside of the sidewalk, against the buildings to keep us as far away from the street as possible. There is an intersection ahead, the perfect place to wave down a cab. Stopping at the crosswalk, I step in front of Lily and wave down a cab that is driving toward us.

  Scuttling into the cab, Lily throws herself into the seat and I follow. Once the door slams closed behind me, she starts giggling softly. I watch as the tension leaves her body. I can’t help but smile back at her.

  “We made it.” She pants softly, reaching out her hand to grab my arm, initiating contact.

  I spent the whole of last night seducing her, and it looks like my efforts have paid off. It may seem a small and insignificant touch, but I know what it means. It means when not faced with imminent danger, she still wants me.

  “Of course we did,” I state confidently, matching her grin with my own.

  There’s no need to freak her out and tell her how nervous I was when I saw the SUVs behind us.

  “Where you go?” the middle-aged cabby asks aggressively from the front, ruining the moment.

  I scowl at him and rattle off the name of a hotel. Then I take out my wallet and peel back several bills before asking to borrow his cell phone. Money always helps in these situations. I make a point of always having cash on hand.

  After some negotiation, extortion on the cabby’s part, and several more bills are added, he hands back his cellphone. Last night, I had begrudgingly left mine at the hotel. The brothel doesn’t allow patrons to bring in electronic devices, and I didn’t want it confiscated at the door.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I’m texting my assistant, Trevor,” I say. He is waiting for us at my original hotel and will need to meet us at our new location.

  I cross my fingers that the text will go through. Calling him
is not an option, as I doubt the cabby has an international calling plan.

  “You have his number memorized?” Lily asks incredulously as I open the message app and, after locating the English keyboard, begin typing.

  Finn: This is Finn. Borrowed a phone. I have Lily. Need to change locations.

  “I give it out all the time to people. It’s his work phone,” I tell her. There have been plenty of times when I needed to give someone, usually a woman, a phone number but don’t want them to have access to my private phone.

  “How many women have you given it to?” she asks perceptively, smiling widely at me.

  I shake my head at her and take hold of her hand. She raises my hand and bites my finger playfully. Shaking off her hold, I grab the back of her neck and pull her into a rough kiss. She comes willingly, grabbing onto my T-shirt and moaning into my mouth.

  The phone vibrates in my hand. I quickly pull out of the kiss to read it. Lily giggles, releases her hold on me, and leans back to relax.

  Trevor: Where r u headed?

  Finn: Where Peter stays. Landmark Mandarin Oriental. We need a reservation. Meet us there.

  Trevor: Ok. All packed & ready to go. Have clothes for Lily.

  I smile at how efficient the man is.

  Lily cuddles up next to me. She links our arms, rests her head on my shoulder, and reads the messages as they pop up on the screen. I kiss her forehead gently.

  Finn: Any messages from Peter?

  The fucker has a lot to answer for!

  Trevor: Peter texted “Meet me in Paris”

  Lily’s body shivers against mine. “Fuck Peter. I don’t want to go back to Paris,” she states, her voice laced with understandable fear.

  If I had been drugged and kidnapped off the streets of Paris, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to return either.

  “Shh, don’t worry, princess,” I tell her in a low voice, resting my head against hers and placing my free hand on her leg to squeeze it lightly.

  Trevor: Would you like me to reply?

  Finn: No. He can wait.

  “You need to tell him I’m safe!” Lily exclaims, shaking my arm. “He’ll be crazy with worry.”

  “Don’t worry, he knows you’re with me.” I stroke her leg soothingly, but it continues to vibrate with nervous energy.

  Finn: We’ll be there shortly.

  I close the message and delete it entirely from the app. Although I doubt the cabby can speak much English, let alone read it, I still do not want my private conversation easily viewable on his phone. Afterward, I turn my full attention to my princess.

  “Oh my God, I need to text my mom,” Lily says frantically, grabbing for the phone. “She won’t believe I’m all right until she hears from me.”

  “We can’t, princess. Not yet.”

  “Why the fuck not?” Lily demands with a fiery angry scowl, which has my cock inconveniently growing hard.

  I thought she was sexy last night: quiet, nervous, shy. Virginal.

  I was fucking wrong!

  “Because,” I growl, fisting the back of her hair. Gripping it tightly, I gain her attention. “Because no one thinks you’re missing.”

  “What?” Lily says through a nervous breath.

  “I had Trevor look into your disappearance last night and called him back while you were sleeping. He said according to all your social media accounts, you had a great time in Paris and are now back at school.”

  “But how?” Her voice cracks slightly, and her grip on my arm tightens.

  “I don’t know, princess. That’s something we need to find out.”

  “What am I going to do?” Lily asks. I watch as she bites her lip, waiting for my answer.

  “We are going to go get changed, have some breakfast, and then come up with a plan.”

  “Okay.” She buries herself tighter into my side.

  “Don’t worry, you’re not getting rid of me.” I brush a gentle kiss across her lips, and as I pull away, she fists my T-shirt and tugs me back, then kisses me.

  This kiss is gentle and unhurried. Right now, we are alone, and no one knows where we are. We are simply passing the time, enjoying the taste and feel of one another, discovering more about the other.

  Like the way Lily moans every time I graze her lips with my teeth.

  2

  Lily

  I don’t remember the last time I made out with a boy, let alone a man. All I know is I need a distraction from the shit going on around me. Tasting Finn’s lips and feeling his strong arms around me transports me to a place of pleasure and safety. I revel in it.

  All too soon, the cab comes to a jerking stop and Finn pulls out of our kiss. His eyes are bright with passion, and I watch as he sucks in his bottom lip and grins. I lick my lips in response.

  Finn gives me another quick kiss before releasing his hold. The loss of his warmth sends a shiver through me.

  Leaning forward, Finn hands the driver several bills along with his phone, which has the man smiling and thanking him profusely.

  “Let’s go,” he says, throwing open the door and stepping out.

  I wiggle myself along the seat and take his offered hand with a smile, gripping it tightly.

  I never want to let go.

  I force myself to shake off the feeling. Despite everything we shared last night—and now knowing who Finn is—I still should not want him as much as I do.

  Once Finn told me his name, I knew who he was. My cousin Peter has talked about Finn and his sister, Riley, often enough over the years. When Peter isn’t spending time with his family, he is usually with theirs. I trusted Finn before, but now I know for certain that he won’t abandon me here and will keep me safe.

  Finn lets go of my hand and slams the cab door closed behind me. He wraps his arm around my waist, places his hand firmly on my hip, and guides me toward the hotel’s glass doors. The two doormen bow slightly, open the doors, and allow us to walk through. Finn never releases his hold on me.

  The lobby is buzzing with activity when we enter. Finn and I get several odd looks from the other travelers as we walk toward reception. I feel self-conscious and underdressed in the elegant surroundings. I am wearing Finn’s dress shirt from yesterday, which is tucked into a pair of his boxers that I have rolled at my waist, and a pair of cheap strappy heals. I don’t exactly fit in with the other clientele. Finn, however, looks put together, although slightly wrinkled. He is wearing yesterday’s dress pants, a neatly tucked in white undershirt, and a suit jacket.

  My man’s steps are confident, as if he doesn’t notice anyone else in the room. I find myself leaning into his tall frame and crossing my arms against my chest.

  “How can I help you, sir?” the well-dressed man behind the counter asks Finn as we approach. His voice is several decimals higher than Finn’s and doesn’t have the same power or heart-rate-increasing ability as my man’s voice does.

  “My assistant called ahead and made us a reservation,” Finn replies, and the man turns toward me, his eyes roving over my body. He is several heads shorter than Finn with a wirier frame. His pinched face gives me a condescending sneer, and I can only imagine what he thinks of me.

  “The name is Xavier Finch,” Finn tells him, his voice hardened. I don’t have to look at Finn to know he’s scowling at the little, unattractive man.

  The man focuses his attention onto the computer screen in front of him and taps away on an unseen keyboard.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have anyone by that name,” the man says mildly, looking up at Finn. “Maybe—”

  “Try Trevor Gregor,” Finn says interrupting him, seemingly unconcerned.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we have a confidentiality policy—”

  “Mr. Gregor is my assistant.” Finn all but growls in frustration. “He made the reservation using my credit card.”

  “I’m sorry, sir—”

  “I want to see your manager,” Finn demands, making the unpleasant man sputter.

  The little man sniffs in ann
oyance and turns to his left to seek help. He clearly does not want to seem incompetent.

  “Is there something I can help you with, sir?” An attractive well-coiffed woman walks forward quickly, as if sensing a problem. She flashes Finn a bright smile.

  I wrap my arm around his waist and lean into his solid body, claiming him.

  “Yes, we would like to check in,” Finn tells her. I can tell he’s attempting to flatten the growl of his tone. “My assistant called ahead and made us a reservation.”

  “Will this be your first stay with us?” The woman walks around the counter and nudges the other employee out of the way to take control of the computer.

  “Yes.”

  Really? I find it odd that Finn wouldn’t have ever stayed at one of the nicest hotels in the city. I know Peter has stayed here on several occasions, and he’s always bringing back small presents. One time he brought me back one of the little travel sewing kits, and another time he brought a pair of chopsticks—not that I have ever mastered using them.

  “I’m so happy you have chosen the Landmark Mandarin Oriental on this trip,” the woman says, smiling way too brightly for my liking. “Let me find your reservation and get you settled into your room.”

  “Thank you,” Finn says, biting out his polite words.

  “Your assistant’s name again, sir?” the woman asks.

  “Trevor Gregor.”

  “Sir,” a booming, American-sounding voice calls from across the lobby. A man jogs toward us overloaded with a large rolling suitcase, a duffle bag, and a messenger bag.