by Linzi Basset
His furious voice echoed in her ear when she ended the call and immediately switched off the cell phone. Her legs gave in and she plonked back down onto the toilet seat. She covered her cheeks and stared forward vacantly.
“Oh lord, Morgan, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
Yes, I do. I took back my life, my destiny and my fate is now in my own hands. I’ve allowed those bastards to be in control of it for far too long.
But she knew she had no chance against them on her own.
“I only have one hope and it’s Bruce. I pray he’ll understand and not cast me out on my ass.”
Her mind made up, she got up and left the booth. She relaxed as she noticed the ladies room was empty. She quickly washed her hands and dabbed some cold water on her face then pinched her cheeks to bring back some color to her pale skin.
“It’s time to do the right thing, Morgan. You can do it.” Her eyes darkened. “If he thinks I’m going to roll over and beg for my life, he has a surprise coming. This time, I’ll be the one waiting … armed and ready. Yes, dear brother, there’s only one target I’ll aim at and it’s you. No, wait, two. You and that bastard Mr. Z.”
She walked back to the women with long, confident strides. For the first time in four years, she suddenly felt like there was hope, a light at the end of the very dark tunnel she’d been caught in.
“I just thought of the perfect club name for myself,” she chirped as she sat down.
“Do tell,” Joanne said with an anticipating smile.
“Delilah.”
Chapter Ten
“Have you managed to get anything out of Morgan?” Rhone asked Bruce as the rest of the team filtered out of his office after the meeting concluded.
Bruce stared pensively through the wall of windows to the Entertainment Room below, his gaze steadfast on the redheaded woman as she walked with long, confident strides to where the rest of the women sat chatting. He immediately detected a change in her posture. Gone was the downward slope of her shoulders, and her smile, even over the distance, seemed like a bright flash of the sun.
“Not yet but I will by the end of the night.”
Rhone glanced at Bruce. “Not without her consent, mate,” Rhone warned with a sharp sideward glance.
“She’s hiding something. My gut tells me there’s more to it than meets the eye.” His expression turned grim. “I’m not going to stand idly by and see any more of my friends and loved ones get hurt.”
“None of us are, but I can’t allow you to take her to subspace with the sole purpose of prodding her for information.” Rhone stared at the blonde woman next to Morgan who held his gaze captive. “I made many mistakes with Samantha, Bruce, purely because of preconceived beliefs when we met. That she’s still here is a miracle in itself. Don’t go down the same path. Morgan came to you because she needed to reach out to someone. There’s a desperation in her eyes that I’ve only seen in people who are caught in a web so tight, they have no way of getting out. You have the ability to reach past her defenses to open up without subspace. Use that skill, Bruce.”
“It’s not that easy when you’re personally invested in a person, mate,” Bruce admitted in a gruff voice.
“Ah, you’re falling for the delectable redhead, are you?”
“Harder than I ever thought possible, but I don’t trust her. I’m not prepared to be caught in a trap of deceit and lies again, Rhone. I learned that lesson the hard way with Jacklyn.”
“Yes, and it was you who had to take the rap from Reece because of her.” Rhone stared at Morgan. “She’s different. She doesn’t have the same calculating look Jacklyn had. Have you even noticed her expression when she looks at you?”
Bruce rolled his shoulders. “She’s enamored with my physique, mate, like all the subs.” Bruce watched Morgan as she got up and walked toward the stairs. He felt the first trickle of heat slither through his body to settle in a pleasing throb in his loins. She was coming for him.
“It’s more than that and you know it. Don’t put up walls without merit. You deserve happiness, like the rest of us. If she’s the one for you, tell her. My perception is that’s the reason she came to you in the first place. We all thought there was a spark between you when she was rescued months ago.”
“I know and I told her as much. It’s the reason I demanded a live-in agreement.”
“Come on, Bruce. You’re the best person at reading people. You know what’s on our minds before we even think it.” Rhone smiled. “I suppose your own feelings are clouding your usual ability to see beyond the surface. Dig deep, mate and find that trigger inside her.”
“I might not have to,” Bruce muttered as he turned to look at Morgan where she hesitated in the doorway. The expression on her face spoke volumes. He detected acceptance and a silent plea for understanding and guidance.
“You’re welcome to use my office. I better get down there before Ace thinks up a scheme that might just end in a stockade with her ass in the air.” Rhone strode toward the doorway. He brushed a finger over Morgan’s cheek and smiled reassuringly. “Honesty is always the best road to happiness.”
Morgan blinked a couple of times, doing her best to keep back the flood of tears at the tender and friendly gesture. With it, Rhone told her they all accepted her in their midst but the steely look in his eyes was a warning itself. Her eyes wandered to the mammoth man in front of the window watching her silently.
Don’t worry, Rhone. I won’t hurt him, ever. I love him and … oh my lord! It can’t be. Can it?
Her eyes widened as she returned his direct stare. His expression softened. Her breath hitched as warmth turned his steely gaze to the soft shade of dove feathers. He held out his hand.
“Come to me, little one.”
Morgan had never thought of herself as little but every time he used the pet phrase, it made her feel small and vulnerable. She didn’t hesitate. His large hand enfolded hers as he gently tucked her against his hard body.
“You have something to tell me.”
It wasn’t a question, which didn’t surprise Morgan. Bruce had the uncanny ability to read her mind no matter how hard she tried to void her expression.
“I’m in trouble,” she admitted softly.
Her eyes lowered to her fingers that curled around his open leather vest. She could feel the heat from his body permeate through her skin to soothe the cold fear in her soul. She licked her lips, wondering how she was supposed to concentrate in the face of all these bulging muscles. The man had an abundance of everything. A physique to die for and that every woman he walked past drooled over. Somewhat like was happening to her at this very moment. His chest rippled as his arms tightened around her waist, silently offering her reassurance.
“I did something exceedingly stupid or brave, depending on your point of view.” She looked at him. “I need your help.”
“Let’s sit down.” They settled on the sofa. Bruce took her hands in his. “You’re trembling.” He studied her intently. “What happened since I left you downstairs?”
“I received a phone call.” She took a deep breath. “They called back the bounty hunters on you.”
“Why should that upset you?”
“Because … now they want you dead—quickly.”
“So, instead of avoiding an army of bounty hunters, I only have one assassin to deal with?”
“It’s not funny, Bruce.”
Bruce smiled gently, realizing she was genuinely upset. “Relax, baby. I told you numerous times, I can take care of myself.” He watched her bottom lip suffer the abuse of her white teeth. “There’s more?”
Morgan pulled her hands from his grasp and jumped up. She began to pace, wringing her hands in agitation. She needed Bruce’s help and protection but suddenly she didn’t have the courage to tell him the entire sordid tale of how she’d become a marionette to her demented stepbrother’s friend. She wouldn’t be able to face his disgust when he realized she didn’t have any backbone.
“They want me to kill you,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.
Bruce didn’t react, apart from leaning back in the sofa and stretching his legs. Morgan wasn’t fooled. She could see his gray eyes turn a dark shade of charcoal as he studied her, waiting patiently. He wasn’t stupid. He knew who they were she referred to.
Damn! How do I explain my association with them without losing face with him?
“You’re obviously struggling with a desire to be honest with me, and fear. The question I ask myself, is it fear for them or what my reaction would be if you tell me the truth.”
Morgan could only stare at him, awestruck. How the devil did he know? It was like he was inside her mind for heaven’s sake! The cogs in her brain scrambled about, frantically searching for a viable story. One where the truth was bent just a little but with enough validity to pacify him and the rest of the team.
“They found me.” She cleared her throat as the lie burst from her lips. She did her best to return his questioning look and not give him the telltale sign he was searching for.
“I assume by they, you mean The Sixth Order?” Bruce sat upright, his hands hanging loosely between his legs. Morgan had refused to be part of a witness protection program like the rest of the women, who were scared they might be found and forced to return to slavery. She had already achieved a name as a sought-after painter and unlike the others, didn’t want to leave the States.
She nodded, feeling miserable for lying to him but it was the only way to make him realize the severity of the matter. They wanted him dead and if she didn’t comply as commanded, there were numerous others who were waiting to snatch up such a lucrative contract.
“You’re safe with me, Morgan. I won’t let anyone harm you or take you away again.”
“If only that was the one concern I had,” she said fervently. She rushed toward him and sank to her knees between his legs. She caught his hands and continued with urgency rife in her voice. “They ordered me to kill you. If I don’t, they won’t return me to Saudi Arabia but what they’re threatening is much worse, not just for me but for … Joanne as well.” Hysteria welled up inside her at the thought of Joanne’s baby.
“None of that, Morgan. Come here.” Bruce pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
It was a foreign feeling for her, sitting on a man’s lap but like always as he held her, calmness descended upon her. Her breathing settled as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
Why did life have to be so full of potholes? All I want is to be left alone to live my life in peace … with the man I love.
When the thought first came to her, she’d been stumped, but once the seed had been planted, the acceptance had sprouted like new leaves from a tree. She did love Bruce; unbeknownst to her at the time, he had stealthily ingrained himself deep within her heart and soul eight months ago already.
“I can’t be responsible for her losing the baby, Bruce. I just can’t.”
“Then we’ll give them what they’re after.”
She reared back. “Don’t even say that. Do you hear me! I’m not a murderer and I’ll never kill anyone. Least of all you.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He smiled gently as he traced her quivering lips. “We’ll stage my death.”
“Of course,” she clipped in a sarcastic tone. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She frowned at his chuckle. “You know how this works, Bruce. They’ll want proof. They’re not just going to accept my word for it.”
“Anything can be done with modern technology, my pet, and Max is an expert with computers. Stop breaking your pretty head over it. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Don’t treat me like a knucklehead, Bruce Rickett,” she snapped as she pushed off his lap. Her hands landed on her hips as she spun around to face him. “I’m not a dimwit and in case you didn’t realize it, I do have half a brain. I don’t appreciate being patronized.”
“Ah, there’s my little spitfire,” Bruce’s deep voice thrilled through her mind.
She stamped her foot, and her eyes sparked as she gestured to herself, indicating how tall she was. “I’m anything but little, so stop treating me like I’m a pixie.”
She gulped as he rose lazily but refused to cower in front of him as he towered over her. Fat lot it helped her to be tall when he was a veritable giant!
Yeah, right. Try and make that stick, now that he makes you feel like a dwarf!
“Do I need to say it, my pet?” Amusement danced gaily in his eyes that now shone like polished silver.
Her lips pursed petulantly. She didn’t know why he always managed to turn her topsy turvy. One moment she was as tame and meek as a kitten, and the next a spitting wildcat. Trying to understand her own tumultuous emotions was a challenge most of the time but ever since she’d arrived at his house … it was confusing as hell.
She tilted back her chin and returned his stare superciliously. “I think you’re a challenge even for the Eiffel Tower,” she muttered.
Her lips quirked as he burst out laughing and then she just … stared. Bruce was hot beyond measure, attractive in a rough package but when he laughed … oh man! The laughter glimmered in his eyes, his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. It wasn't concentrated in his face though. His chuckle rumbled from within and teased her loins with its melody. She squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to try and contain the inappropriately timed arousal that caused her stomach to clench in response. His laughter was like ripples in a still pond after a stone had been thrown in. It radiated outwards through the room and wrapped itself around her heart. It was a sound she would treasure inside her soul, harboring it until she could hear it again. She made a pact with herself there and then to make him laugh more often—if only to feed her starving ovaries that now wouldn’t stop jiggling deep inside her.
He leaned closer, their breaths mingling in the space between their lips. He kissed her. Four hard, yet passionate pecks. Short and sweet.
Ah, hell. I’m a goner. Hook, line, and sinker, she wailed in her mind as he took back a step. She had to will her legs to remain where they were and not close the distance for a deeper, more satisfying kiss.
“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”
Morgan forced her mind back to the situation at hand. The words burned on her tongue to come forth and spill all. To tell him everything and pray he wouldn’t judge her too harshly. She swallowed it back resolutely. It was too soon. She needed time to set her own plan into action. Hate boiled over as memories surfaced of how she had suffered at the hands of her stepbrother, Will Lovett. Bruce and Precision Secure could do what they wanted with Dexter Powell and the mighty Mr. Z but that bastard was hers to destroy.
“Master Goliath, did you forget you have CM duty?”
Morgan’s body turned to stone as a guttural voice sounded behind her—a brief moment before a shudder ran through her lithe frame.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed as he noticed her eyes turn glacial. He glanced over her shoulder at the man in the doorway who leaned with negligent ease against the doorframe.
“No, I haven’t. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Right, I’ll let Master Rage know.”
Bruce didn’t miss how the man's eyes trailed over Morgan’s body and along her long naked legs. She’d complained loudly when Bruce had presented the outfit to her earlier but conceded and wore the tight red leather hot pants once he conceded to a waistcoat type red corset, satisfied that it covered all her girlie parts. The peep toe heels she managed to trot on with such grace gave her legs that added length to make them seem endless.
“Anything else?” Bruce clipped out shortly, irritated with his fascination with his sub.
No,” he chuckled and with a wave, walked away.
Bruce’s gaze returned to Morgan. She squirmed under his scrutiny.
“W-who was that man?” she stammered in a croak.
“Wade Moore, our club manager.”
Try as she might, she knew she failed to keep her expression impassive. She pivoted on her heel and headed for the door.
“Well, as he said, let’s not keep Master Rage waiting any longer,” she mumbled and sped up when she felt him closing in on her. He caught her arm and spun her around.
“We’re not done yet, Morgan. You have something else to tell me.”
She should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go. He was like a dog that smelled a bone and would keep searching until he found it. She managed a tremulous smile.
“We can talk about it at home. Surely, you didn’t bring me to the club just to spend it stuck in an office?” She went on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “Besides, I’m ready to learn more about this D/s dynamic we’ve got going on.”
Morgan leaned against Bruce's strong body, desperately soaking in his strength. The cogs in her brain were still searching to find the connection between the man who had just left and Club Devil’s Cove’s Masters. His familiar voice echoed in her mind.
What the devil was her stepbrother doing here and why was he posing as someone called, Wade Moore?
Bruce forced his concern and suspicions to the back of his mind. At least she came to him of her own free will. They could only move forward from this point on.
“Very well.” He leaned back to award her a hawkish look. “Let’s see if you remember our discussion at home about proper decorum for a sub. It starts now, my pet.” He rocked back on his heels. “Did you find a fitting club name?”
A sensual smile curved around her lips. “I did.”
She didn’t have too long to wait. Her heart rate increased as she watched his left eyebrow arch toward his hairline, a barely there smile hovering on his lips.
God, he looks so sexy when he does that. She blithely kept her lips pressed together, refusing to continue and waited with a secret smile. Decorum my ass. Let’s see just how my Goliath will react to a little sass.