Hunting The Kobra

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Quinn peered at her palm. The red spot on the heel of her hand was smaller than she thought it would be. “It felt as though half my hand was burned.”

  “Next time, don’t put your hand on the stove.”

  “There won’t be a next time. I have no intentions of confronting the woman again.”

  “Why on earth did you confront her in the first place? Toni isn’t the sort of woman to restrict herself to mere insult.”

  “I didn’t confront her. She was already pissed at me before she saw me.”

  Noah dropped the sliver of ice cubes into the bowl and picked up a fresh one. He inspected her palm. The ice had done its work, for the bottom half of her hand was numb. Yet, even in the few seconds while the ice cube had not been resting directly on the burn, it throbbed again.

  He put the cube back on her palm and raised a brow at her.

  “Aslan told her to buy tickets for the opera house ball in January.”

  Noah frowned. Then his frown smoothed out. “She’s threatened by you.”

  Quinn once more ran through her mind the moments in the dining room with Aslan. “I think it’s more than that,” she said.

  Aslan’s calm façade, the way he had opened up to her…the air of confession and hope.

  Quinn shuddered.

  Noah’s eyes narrowed. He’d seen the shudder. “Why is it more than that?” he coaxed.

  Quinn couldn’t look at him any longer. She was too uncomfortable. She could feel her face heating. Her whole body seemed to grow warm and prickle uncomfortably.

  Noah dropped the ice cube back in the bowl and put her hand on her knee. He sat back. “Quinn?”

  She could barely speak the words. “He wants to have dinner with me.” They emerged in a high, strangled tone.

  Noah’s silence stretched for too many heavy heartbeats. She looked at him.

  His eyes were still narrowed, the brows together. He wasn’t looking at her and she got the impression his mind was racing. Only, nothing showed on his face, except for the scowl.

  “You don’t want to have dinner with him, though.”

  Quinn’s middle squeezed. “It’s not even that he’s so much older than me,” she said. Suddenly the words were there, pouring from her. “It’s not that. He’s—I thought he and Toni were together and that’s why she did what she did in the kitchen, only it’s not even that. I don’t know him at all. The little I do know, the bit he’s shown me…” Abruptly, she cut off the flow of words by holding her teeth together.

  Noah worked for Aslan. He must share some of the same values, at least. She had nearly forgotten. In the last second, she had stopped herself from blurting out her primary objection—that the business Aslan was in, his morals and values, repulsed her.

  If she said it, Noah would know she was not the pick-pocket criminal willing to learn Aslan’s trade because she had nowhere else to go.

  Noah’s brow smoothed out. “You’re afraid of him.”

  Quinn pressed her uninjured hand to her belly. “Aren’t you?” she demanded. “His power and how he uses it…you all jump to his orders because you know what will happen if you say no. If I say no…” She swallowed. Her fear bloomed even larger. “He wants this…me…a lot. He didn’t say so, but I could see it in his eyes, Noah. He wants me because…because…”

  “Because having you would, in a way, give Denis back to him,” Noah finished. “A version of Denis who didn’t run screaming from his life as soon as he learned the truth.”

  Quinn drew in a breath which shuddered. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  Noah fell back into his deep silence. He did it a lot, Quinn realized. He didn’t speak much at all. Did it mean he was thinking heavily all the time?

  He got to his feet. “Come with me.”

  “To where?”

  His gaze met hers. Noah bent and kissed her.

  Quinn vented her surprise in a little gasp against his lips. The surprise was erased by the leap of pleasure, which brought all her nerve ends alive. All her senses, too. She inhaled his scent—sandalwood and low-key spice—even as she realized his lips were soft with an underlying hardness. His hair was silky soft and thick, with not a hint of coarseness…and that was when she realized she had slid her fingers into his hair.

  Someone gave a soft moan. She didn’t know who.

  Noah lifted her to her feet and pulled her against him, as the kiss continued. He really was a tall man! Quinn was not used to kissing a man so tall, but she grew to like it—she liked that she was shorter even wearing heels. She liked that she had to turn her mouth up to his. She liked that she felt small and feminine and petite against him, when she had never been petite in her life.

  They fitted together.

  The power of the kiss spread through her, making her weak and wanting more. Much more.

  She trembled when he let her go. Noah picked up her hand—the uninjured one. His gaze was steady yet there was heat in his eyes which she understood. “Come with me.”

  Quinn went with him. He moved up the wide corridor to his room on the other side and pushed the door open.

  Quinn glimpsed the dark wood paneling, molding, burnt gold trim…then Noah drew her into his arms once more and claimed her full attention.

  It was good. It was so very good. Even while she wondered what was driving Noah to this, Quinn still reveled in the earthy pleasure of mind-blowing sex.

  He was careful to not stress her bruised side, or her hand or the side of her face. He obeyed no other limitations. He turned her senses inside out with his hard body and hands and lips. He left her quivering, over and over.

  During a quieter moment, while they both laid with splayed limbs upon on the big bed, catching their breath, Noah pushed himself up with a flex of his torso, giving her a view of his wide olive-toned back—which the casual jackets hid.

  He bent and retrieved his pants and fished in the pocket. He pulled out his cellphone and turned it off with a soft electronic warble. Then he tossed it on the nightstand, turned back to her, scooped her up against him and got busy with his mouth.

  In the calmer moments, afterwards, Noah still kept his fingers busy, stroking her, exploring curves and sensitive spots. His touch meant Quinn couldn’t fully relax despite her depleted body begging for rest. She turned onto her belly and closed her eyes.

  She would have to think about this. Only, later.

  Much later.

  It was much later when Quinn was forced to think—and fast.

  The knock on the bedroom door wasn’t a soft, discrete tap. It was a solid hammering which made Quinn jump. She realized she had fallen into a doze.

  Noah pressed his hand to her shoulder. “Shh… Relax.” He got up.

  Quinn cracked open one eye to appreciate the view as he padded over to the door, his buttocks working.

  A toweling robe hung on a hook on the back of the door—a prosaic note in such an elegant room. Noah lifted it off the hook and slid into it as he opened the door. He barely got the front of the robe closed as the door opened.

  “I’ve texted three times,” Aslan said. “Did you fall asleep…”

  Horrified, Quinn sat up, pulling up the sheet around her. She shifted from deeply relaxed to afraid in the space of a heartbeat.

  Aslan looked from her to Noah. And back. His face tightened.

  All the emotion left his face and his eyes. He switched to the sophisticated businessman she remembered from the first time they had met. He looked at Noah. “You are late. We should have left ten minutes ago. I will meet you downstairs.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes,” Noah said.

  Aslan didn’t respond. He didn’t nod or acknowledge Noah. Instead, he turned and walked away.

  Noah shut the door and took off the robe again. He dressed with rapid movements.

  “God, Noah…!” Quinn breathed.

  He shook his head. “He’s not uncivilized. Not that way, at least.”

  “He was livid—I saw it in
his eyes.” She clutched the sheet to her chest.

  “He won’t do anything,” Noah told her, his voice flat, designed to reassure, only it didn’t. “That isn’t the way Aslan works. He’ll take this as your definitive ‘no’ and he’ll move on.” He thrust his arms into the suede jacket he wore most often and straightened it.

  Quinn stared at him. “You were counting on it, weren’t you? You turned your phone off so he’d come to find you…” She smoothed out the sheet, trying to ward off the disappointment creeping through her.

  Noah sat on the edge of the bed. He curled his hand around her neck, so the palm cupped her cheek. “It wasn’t all calculation,” he said gently.

  She nodded. “I should thank you, I suppose. I said I didn’t know what to do. You solved that for me. It was…kind of you.”

  His gaze was sharp. “There were a dozen different ways you could have given Aslan your answer, with or without my help. This way happened to come with side benefits I’ve wanted since Boston, so before you melt into a puddle of mortification and self-pity, think about that.” He kissed her. It was brief and hard, but could be nothing else, for time was ticking on and Quinn was defensive.

  Noah headed for the door. “Stay here as long as you want,” he told her, and left.

  It was only then, listening to his footsteps as Noah moved down the corridor to the stairs down to the main floor, when Quinn identified the large omission in Noah’s reassurances that Aslan would be civilized about this.

  Noah had spoken only about how Aslan would react to her. He had not said what Aslan would do to him.

  [22]

  That Evening

  Quinn stayed in her room for the rest of the day. Not long after the sunset, she heard murmurs and the opening and closing of doors. It meant most of the household had returned for the day and was preparing for dinner.

  Quinn considered having dinner sent to her room. Her courage was not sufficient to face Aslan. Not now.

  Only, Noah had spent the afternoon with Aslan. Noah had the courage to face the man, probably with his chin up. After all, Noah was fearless. Confronting Aslan was nothing compared to throwing himself off mountains.

  Suddenly, she wanted to see Noah to assure herself he was okay, that he had survived the afternoon unscathed. It wasn’t for any romantic reason, for that was not the arrangement between them—not if she understood Noah properly. Although, she did have some responsibility for the risk he had taken.

  One she had reasoned it out, Quinn dressed for dinner, making sure her makeup was immaculate and hid the bruises on her face and wrist. She chose her clothes with care. Because the old Quinn wanted to dress as conservatively as possible—sackcloth and ashes would be appropriate—Quinn deliberately chose something provocative. The black lace dress was not as in-the-face as Toni might have chosen, although it hugged her figure and bared her shoulders. The long sleeves came to a point over the back of her hands.

  She brushed her hair and coiled it so it hung in a long wave down her back.

  Then, because there were no more excuses left to keep her in the room, Quinn made her way downstairs. Her nervousness rose as she moved through the common room to the big formal dining room where evening meals were always served.

  The main dining room was a gargantuan size. The table could easily seat twenty or more people. The walls were made of smoked mirrors, with gold hued wood panels beneath. The huge chandelier over the table was reflected in the mirrors, which made the room appear to be full of light.

  She had lingered so long, everyone was already at the table. Dinner had not been served, yet.

  Aslan looked up from the head of the table, and his eyes narrowed as he saw her. “Finally.”

  She sat in the first available chair, which was beside Johnson. It put her three chairs away from Aslan. That suited her fine.

  Mitchell and Noah sat on the opposite side of the table. Mitchell was closest to Aslan, which put Noah directly opposite Quinn. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  She let her gaze move over Noah. He was still whole and in one piece. There were no wounds. His gaze was steady. It seemed he had survived the afternoon.

  Of course he had. She was blowing this all out of proportion. If Aslan was as civilized as Noah insisted, then the worst Noah might have faced would be verbal frost.

  Aslan looked at his watch. “Has anyone seen Toni?”

  Quinn kept her eyes on the white tablecloth. She had forgotten about Toni altogether. The woman had left the house as Noah had insisted.

  “Toni isn’t here,” Noah said. “She went back to Innsbruck.”

  Aslan considered his response. His gaze was withering as he looked at Noah. “Innsbruck,” he said heavily. “Another domestic arrangement you’ve made behind my back?”

  Everything in Quinn’s middle seemed to crunch down. The bruise which was forming on her side throbbed.

  Noah shrugged, as if the matter was meaningless to him. “I’m just the messenger. She left this morning. She was pissed.” Noah considered Aslan for a moment. “Did you two have an argument?”

  Quinn held her breath. It was sheer bluff, yet it was what someone would have said, if they knew nothing about what Toni had done to her in the kitchen. She wouldn’t have remembered to respond that way, if it had been her in Noah’s place.

  It was these conversational abysses and trip wires which kept Quinn’s heart rate constantly elevated.

  Aslan scowled, but said nothing in response to Noah’s gambit. He reached for the bottle of wine and poured himself a glassful. He did not offer the bottle to anyone else.

  Johnson, sitting to Quinn’s left, picked up the bottle of red and held it out to her. “Would you like some Cabernet, Quinn?” His tone was polite and friendly.

  Quinn accepted the glass, although she had no intention of drinking.

  The waiter hurried in with the heavy tray of dishes. Soup was placed in front of them and the waiter hurried away, while Aslan drank silently. No one spoke.

  It was almost a relief to pick up the spoon and eat. It gave her something to do and an excuse for not speaking. The only sound in the room was the clatter of spoons against bowls as everyone else did the same.

  Aslan took two or three mouthfuls of the soup then dropped his spoon, reached for his glass of wine and sat back. He drank moodily.

  Quinn tried to keep up the pretense of eating. She held the spoon and moved it around the creamy soup. She watched mushrooms rise to the surface. She worried, as she stared at the bowl.

  Noah had been convincing when he said Aslan was civilized and would do nothing more now she had symbolically told him no.

  Only, Aslan’s behavior at the table made her wonder if Noah had misjudged him. Aslan was pouting. A powerful man, when he was slighted, had too many ways of exacting revenge.

  Noah ate steadily. His gaze touched her face sometimes and moved around the room naturally. He didn’t appear uncomfortable.

  Quinn realized she was perspiring. It wasn’t just the soup. Fear was making her heart work too hard. The longer the silent meal continued, the stronger her trepidation grew.

  “Christmas in two days’ time,” Mitchell said, his tone conversational. “What’s everyone got planned? Expensive goodies for me, I hope.”

  Aslan put his glass on the table and picked up the wine bottle. “Maybe you should go back to Innsbruck, too.” He was looking at Noah.

  Quinn responded without considering the wisdom of what she was about to face. It was pure instinct, driven by the thought which flashed in her mind—that if Noah went back to Innsbruck, it would leave her alone here.

  And Noah would be alone in Innsbruck. Toni was not an ally. Not anymore.

  She would consider later why the thought jolted her so deeply. She spoke quickly. “Oh, Christmas in Innsbruck would be heavenly! Noah, can we travel there by train, tomorrow? Are the trains running on Christmas Eve? It would be so romantic…”

  Mitchell’s gaze swiveled to her. Sur
prise showed in his eyes, along with sudden wariness. He didn’t look at Aslan, yet his focus was upon the still man at the head of the table.

  Quinn’s heart beat in her ears. She did not dare look at Aslan directly. She kept her gaze on Noah, a bright and inquiring smile on her face, trying to appear wildly happy at the idea of a snowy tryst in the mountains for Christmas.

  Was it her imagination or had Noah stopped breathing, too?

  “We have business meetings, tomorrow,” Aslan said. “Everyone will be busy. We will spend Christmas in Vienna.”

  Quinn made herself meet Aslan’s eyes. “I don’t attend your business meetings. There is no need for me to be here. If Noah is going to Innsbruck, I will go with him.”

  There. She had stated it plainly and out loud. Quinn drew a breath for courage and kept her gaze locked upon Aslan’s face.

  Johnson, beside her, let out a slow breath. No one else spoke.

  The waiter came back into the room, which gave Quinn an excuse to shift her gaze away from Aslan. Her stomach was doing cartwheels.

  She got to her feet and put her napkin on the table. “I am suddenly not hungry,” she said. “I’m going upstairs.” She looked at Aslan directly, daring him to tell her to sit down again.

  He said nothing.

  Quinn knew it was a temporary victory. There was one more thing she needed to do to lock it in, though. She rounded the table, not hurrying, and passed behind Aslan, so she came up behind Noah. She rested her hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I will see you upstairs.” She made it sound as though she was speaking only to Noah, but her voice was loud enough that everyone at the table could hear.

  She left, still not hurrying, even though her heart was pumping like a piston, making her want to run at full tilt. She made herself walk across the common room and head upstairs.

  Quinn waited in Noah’s room. She sat on the edge of the bed but did not take off her shoes or do anything other than just sit in the dark, listening to her heart rattle like a window in a storm.