by Eva Charles
I realize I’m scowling. “Nothing. I was hoping that maybe—”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe you’d kiss me.” Maybe you’d take me to your bed, here at Sweetgrass, where you don’t bring other women.
He stares into my face for a long time. Like he’s looking for some excuse not to kiss me. Maybe he’s thinking that this is home, not a place for dirty sex. Whatever’s bothering him, he eventually relents and kisses me. It doesn’t start this way, but it ends with his hands in my hair, his mouth claiming mine, and both of us struggling for breath. “Just a kiss, that’s all you want?” he asks.
“Hmmm. It’s a good place to start. I like it when you cant my hips, so I can feel your cock against my belly when you kiss me.”
“Your plan is to tease me?” he asks with mock horror. “I feed you Lally’s barbeque and you want to rub yourself against my cock and get me all worked up before you leave?”
I laugh. “Yes. No.”
There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Which is it?”
Definitely no. “How would you like me to make amends, Julian?” Should I get on my knees? I bet you’d love that.
The knob in his throat bobs. “I have a list. A long list. It’ll take you a lifetime to get through it.”
I rub against him with whatever control I can muster, while I dip my tongue into his mouth. But a little voice keeps intruding. Reminding me we have unfinished business. Reminding me I’m in deeper than I planned. Your father’s not worth it, JD. Do not trade your life—your soul—for revenge. I can’t lose you again, not so soon.
“JD?”
“Hmmm?”
“All that talk about your father earlier. It scares me. Really scares me. I need to know you wouldn’t kill him, or kill anyone. That you don’t have that kind of hate in your heart.”
He says nothing.
I have a lump in my throat, because this is serious. Because I’m about to dredge up something that has always been off limits between us. Something twisted and painful, that made him recoil the last time I mentioned it. I straighten the waistband of my skirt, lining up the darts and seams. When there’s nothing left to adjust, I speak. “You always believed your father had something to do with the accident. You still think that?”
He wheels away from me, and turns his back to put out the light over the sink. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t need to.” My voice is whisper soft, hoping to soothe some of the sorrow I know he’s feeling.
“It’s getting late, Gabrielle. I’m going to have them bring the car around for you.”
You will not dismiss me, JD. Not on this point. “Not yet,” I say firmly. He turns a piercing eye on me. Your mean little looks don’t frighten me. “Before I go, I want your word that you won’t do something so foolish. So awful. Promise me, or this whole thing between us is off. I will not be a party to any of it.”
He runs a knuckle along his jaw, back and forth, and for a few seconds, I think he contemplates showing me the door. But he doesn’t.
“I have no plans to kill my father, although if he comes anywhere near Zack, I will use his chest for target practice. But I’d prefer to see the bastard suffer.” He inches closer to me, until we’re almost touching. “This is a ridiculous conversation, don’t you think? We could be doing something so much more satisfying with our mouths.”
He lowers his head to kiss me, but before he can, I grab hold of his cock, through his jeans, and squeeze. He’s smirking but his eyes have a dark sinful glimmer that makes my pussy flutter. “I have no plans is not a promise, JD.”
“This is coercion. No court would ever recognize any promise made under these circumstances.”
I squeeze tighter. He pretends to wince. Although he doesn’t fool me—in one move he could easily overtake me. He’s that much bigger and stronger. But he’s letting me make my point. “You’re going to have to do better than that, darlin’ if you want to bring me to my knees. But I’ll make you the promise.”
I’m not convinced, but I let go, and before I can say another word, he spins me around so he’s behind me, holding my wrists securely in his right hand. He skates his left palm down my arm, capturing the elbow, his hard cock pressed into my back.
“Give me your panties,” he murmurs above my ear. “We’ve got people in the house. I need something to shove into your mouth, because I’m about to make you scream.”
22
Julian
When I get back from my run there’s a message on my phone from Chase: Sline Slocation. Secure line, secure location—he must have found out something about SOLO. Or the summit.
Before showering, I go straight to my office, drop my cell phone on my desk, and enter the safe room that acts as my inner sanctum. Outfitted with foil walls, and no windows, it’s not much bigger than a generous walk-in-closet. In fact, that’s how my brothers and I referred to it when we were kids—the closet. Still do.
My grandfather used the space to take proprietary calls or hold meetings where he discussed classified information. It seems overly paranoid, unless you’re acquainted with the level of spying that goes on in the pharmaceutical industry. Smith modernized the security in the closet when he outfitted the security cottage out back that he uses as an office. There are also secure rooms at Sayle, but I don’t have the same kind of confidence in them.
I call my brother from a phone inside the windowless room. “Where are you?” is the first thing Chase asks when he picks up.
“The closet. Must be important for you to up at six o’clock.”
“Been up most of the night. GEM is the antidote to a nerve agent. It’s a hybrid—viral and chemical agent. The antidote is a vaccine that can be used after an attack.”
“Wait a minute. SOLO is working on a vaccine for a nerve agent?” I repeat, trying to wrap my head around nerve agents and antidotes, which I know little about. “Is this a government contract?”
“No. I looked, but I couldn’t find any contract. This is SOLO’s project.”
Sayle’s project. And I’m now responsible for anything that happens with the company. “Who has the nerve agent? Do we have it?”
“As far as I can figure out the US and Russia are the only two countries with the agent—it’s leftover from the Cold War. But who knows? Sayle had some—for testing purposes. It should have all been destroyed, but if that were the case, SOLO couldn’t be working on a vaccine.”
Nerve agents are weapons of war. That’s their only purpose. “If we don’t have a government contract, then why do we want to manufacture it? Who will be our buyer? It’s not like CVS or Walgreens is going to stock it.”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Do you think DW would try to sell it to the US government after he becomes president?” I ask. As far as I’m concerned, the answer is yes. But my mind always goes to the darkest places where my father’s concerned. I can’t afford to chase twisted fantasies. This is serious.
“I don’t know. That would be fucked up, but hey, it’s possible. You know he’s going to do whatever he can to fill his pockets while he’s in office.”
“The conflict would be glaring. Congress won’t stand for it.” But he’s doing it for some reason. And Chase is right, it’s about money with him. It’s always about money.
“How close is that vaccine to prime time?”
“I don’t know that either. But it looks to me like they’ve been running trials.”
“Trials? Jesus Christ.” Creating an antidote, in and of itself, is not illegal, but testing on humans requires mountains of paperwork, along with rigorous internal and external reviews. “Please tell me they’re not conducting human trials?”
“No evidence of that. But JD, that guy Rofler, he was in touch with DW after you met with SOLO.”
“I’m not surprised.” I ought to rip him a new one and toss him out into the parking lot. But I’m not going to do that. Not yet. I want more information before I kick his ass out
of the building.
“One more thing.”
Fuck. “There’s more?”
“Yeah. That summit you said Gray’s going to?”
I massage my eyes to ward off the clusterfuck headache that’s creeping up. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t find any sign of it anywhere, on anyone’s schedule. Including DW’s. Nada.”
“That sonofabitch is already up to no good.”
“He’s probably not in it alone,” Chase says. “Don’t underestimate the number of criminals around him. I don’t know if it’s every administration, or just the one DW is putting together. They look like the kind of guys who got their lunch money stolen every day, but these are some bad motherfuckers.”
23
Julian
“Hey. What’s up?” I say to Smith, tucking my phone into the crook of my neck, so I can continue to research nerve agents on the laptop while we talk. It’s all I’ve been doing since my call with Chase this morning.
“Gabrielle Duval ditched her security detail.”
My fingers are still on the keyboard. Gabrielle Duval ditched her security detail. It takes me a couple seconds to process the words. “What do you mean she ditched her security detail? What the fuck does that mean?” I clear the browser, grab my car keys, and head straight for the parking lot. My first instinct is to find her.
“It means she snuck out the back door of a meeting she was supposed to be in, and we have no idea where she is.”
My heart is pounding, as I stride right past my assistant without stopping to tell her I’m leaving the premises. “How do you know she wasn’t abducted?”
“We saw her on camera. She left City Hall alone—out a backdoor, and scurried around the corner toward King Street. Never looked back. But that’s all the camera caught.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Who do you think she went to meet that she didn’t want security tagging along?” Smith asks. I don’t like the insinuation.
“How the hell do I know?”
“Well you’re pretty chummy with her. I heard she screamed loud enough last week that security entered your apartment because they thought there was a problem. Why am I not surprised she’s a screamer?”
“I told Rafe and Gus not to say a fucking thing about that to anyone. I’m going to fire both their asses. And then I’m going to beat the snot out of you.”
“This is the problem, JD. The last time I gave you shit about a screamer, you told me you’d give me her number. Said she’d probably scream for me, too. I don’t remember you just offering me Gabrielle’s number.”
“Cut the bullshit and find her.”
“We’re looking. I’m capable of doing more than one task at a time. But if you just let me handle her security like I handle everyone else’s, shit like this wouldn’t happen.”
“You are handling things. She ditched your people,” I shout.
“My people. But not my plan for protecting her. This is all on you, baby.”
“I’m getting in my car. I’ll see if I can find her.”
“You might not want to do that. She left that building of her own accord. She was going somewhere. You might not like what you find. Just sayin’.”
I slam the phone against the dashboard twice before I disconnect the call. No, it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I call her a few times, but her phone is off. For the next hour, I drive around Charleston. I go to City Hall first, and then to the hotel, scouring the streets for her. My next stop is her parents’ house, but someone’s staying there while they’re away. I doubt she’d go there, but it’s worth a try. What if she’s in some kind of danger? Someone might have tricked her into leaving the meeting. Or maybe Smith’s right, what if I don’t like what I find?
I’m still conjuring up all sorts of bad scenarios, one worse than the other, when Smith calls back.
“We found her. She’s at Georgina Scott’s.” That was my next stop. I release a heavy sigh. This has been the longest fucking hour of my life. “Took an Uber so we couldn’t trace her,” Smith continues. “JD, whatever the fuck you have going on with her isn’t working. You need to let me manage her security—all of it. I can keep you apprised of what’s going on, but she isn’t safe this way. And neither are my people. I can’t do business like this.”
The relief washes over me for about ten seconds, and then it’s gone. I’m so pissed off right now, I could smash glass with my bare hands. “I’ll have a word or two with her. You’ve met her. She’s stubborn. And she doesn’t want security.”
“We can stage something to convince her she needs it.”
“There have already been a couple unstaged incidences that haven’t seemed to sway her.”
“Like what?”
“Someone took the hotel master keys out of her office. And the next day, all four of her tires were deflated while she was at a meeting. The missing keys were on the passenger seat.”
“You didn’t think it was important for me to know about this?”
“The police downplayed it.” Even as I make the excuse, it sounds ridiculous. Smith won’t buy it for a second.
“This is exactly what I mean, JD. You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d insist on making a security plan that she wouldn’t like. One that included tracking her phone—at the very least.”
“We press too hard, too fast, and she’s going to push back.”
“She’s already pushing back,” he says. “Any ex-boyfriends who might not like that she’s hanging around with you?”
“No.”
“You answered that way too quickly.”
“There’s an ex-fiancé, but he’s in prison.”
“You sure about that? They move people through the system quickly these days.”
“I’m sure.”
“The keys and the tires as separate incidents don’t bother me so much. But deflating the tires and leaving the missing keys on the seat? Sounds like someone might be gaslighting her. If that’s the case, it’s a whole other breed of bad. You have any idea who might want to do something like that to her?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter.
“You sound like you might know. Don’t be such an obtuse prick. My people. Her life. Spit it out.”
“My father."
“DW?” Smith asks, like he might have misunderstood me.
“Do I have another father?”
“I have no fucking clue what you rich people do. You could have a dozen fathers. But that one’s the president-elect. Of the United States, for fuck’s sake. You think he’s gaslighting some woman you’re chasing. Why?”
“Keep me out of his business.”
There’s only quiet breathing on the other end of the line. It’s like he’s weighing what I just told him, and trying to come up with a response. It does sound preposterous, but I know it’s true.
“Listen,” Smith says, softly. “I know DW’s a huge asshole, and having Gabrielle running around without security today got to you. But she’s fine, and she wasn’t doing anyone, unless she’s into pregnant chicks. So, pour yourself a whiskey, or get Zack’s nurse to give you some anti-anxiety meds or something, because this stuff about your father is crazy talk. And it’s one thing to say shit like that to me, it’s another to repeat it in polite company. You do know that, right?”
“I’m well aware.” Which is why the fucker is still walking the streets instead of in jail where he belongs.
“Let me up the ante. Help Ms. Duval come to the conclusion that she needs some big scary dudes hanging around to protect her.”
“Not yet. Let me try one other thing first.”
“You’re too involved with her to be in charge of her protection detail.”
“No.”
“JD—”
“Not yet, Smith.”
24
Julian
I haven’t spoken with Gabrielle since she eluded security yesterday. I’ve picked up the phone a dozen times since then, but I�
�ve been too pissed off to even speak with her. Don’t trust what I might say. Probably better to deal with her in person anyway.
I have some semblance of control tonight. The urge to beat her ass has receded into the background, although it’s still lurking.
I thought sex was the way to control her. To make her soft and compliant. I’d done it before, although last time, I had no ulterior motive. But I’ve gotten so caught up in her, so caught up in how good she feels in my arms, how good she smells, and the amazing way her pussy clenches around my cock, that I slacked off. I let it become the kind of relationship my heart wants, not the kind it needs to be to keep her safe. That ends today.
When I get to my apartment, she’s already there, making a mess in the kitchen. Pots and pans everywhere. God help me. The woman can’t boil water without destroying the kettle.
“You’re early. I was hoping to surprise you with supper,” she says, with a big, beautiful smile.
“Is that your way of making nice after ditching your security detail and having everyone frantic with worry?”
“I didn’t mean to cause any worry. I thought I’d be back before anyone realized I was gone.”
“Really?”
“I went to visit Georgina. She wasn’t feeling well, so I brought her a quart of soup from Millie’s. She and Wade are having some trouble, and she needed me.”
“None of that explains why you left Rafe and Gus holding their dicks outside City Hall.”
“I didn’t want to bring an army with me to her house.”
“Two men is not an army. This is bullshit, Gabrielle. Your detail is professional.”
“They make Georgina anxious.”
“Well that’s just too fucking bad.”
“JD—” She places her hand on my cheek, brushing her lips against mine, but I’m not in the mood for sweet kisses.