by April Lust
“His last will and testament, for one. A few question about the dissolution of his business assets.” He motioned for her to follow as he headed towards a sleek-looking car.
“It won’t take long, will it? It’s been a long day.”
“I understand” He nodded. “No, it won’t take very long at all. If it would make things easier, I can meet you at another time?”
“No,” she sighed. “No, let’s get it done.”
He reached out to take her hand. She was reaching out to take his when she saw it. The sleeve slid up his wrist, exposing the very bottom of a tattoo. She couldn’t see the entire thing, but she could see a flare of blue cloth, the ink forming flowing fabric over the wrist, the outer edges had the pale tones of someone haloed in pure light.
She moved before she could think. She shoved the sleeve farther up. There the Virgin Mary was, splayed out across the man’s wrist, her demure face tilted to the right in maternal love. She shook her head. She drew in a breath to scream when the man opened his jacket to show the gun hidden there.
“Don’t scream, don’t you dare scream.”
“Who are you?”
He smiled, but there was no kindness in it. It was a mad smile, all teeth and no humor. “I’m a friend of Gabriel’s. Now get in the car. Don’t say anything. Don’t warn anyone.”
Emma’s heart was racing. She didn’t want to get in that car. There was no telling where it was going to go, but she was sure it wasn’t anywhere she wanted to be. She swallowed hard. She took a single step towards the car.
“There we go, nice and easy.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because Gabriel asked.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“I dunno,” she snapped back as they neared the car. “Because kidnapping is wrong?”
He made a shrug of one shoulder. “For me, sweetie, it’s all business. Your father caused us a big problem. Gabriel has decided that you are how we even things out.”
“Why?” she asked. “My father is dead. It’s not going to do anything to anyone to hurt me.”
“That’s a question you’ll have to ask the man himself.”
She snorted. “What? You don’t rank high enough on the totem pole?”
His eyes flared. She saw his shoulder jerk beneath his jacket. He didn’t like being talked down to. That was interesting. It could work for her if she kept messing with that button.
“Get in the car.”
“No.”
“Bitch, I will shoot you.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, pretending she couldn’t taste fear in the back of her throat. “I’m sure you could. I mean, someone as low tier as you probably turns to his gun every second he gets, right? You gotta prove yourself to be a really tough guy.”
His hand flew out and connected with her face. Her head jerked to the side. The tips of his fingers had caught along her ear, causing them to ring. She let her body stumble more than necessary in the hopes of drawing attention.
“Hey!” someone shouted. She didn’t know the voice. “Kellan!”
She tried to take a step towards the voice, but her legs gave. Feet pounded towards her. Hands, strong and angry, hauled her backwards. She struggled, but his arm came across her neck and he hefted her upwards. He was stronger than he looked. She wiggled, but his arm tightened until she started to gasp. Her vision went blurry around the edges.
Another hand curled around her middle. Her mind filled with memories of being in her dorm room. Her body started to shake. She growled and snapped and clawed with her hands.
“No!” she shouted. She threw her weight forward and felt her feet hit the ground. Her Aikido took over and she jabbed backwards, trying to put a bit of space between her and her assailant. He jerked back, but his hand struck out once more. It had the same arcing style of someone who had a lot more training than she did. It struck against her collar. If she hadn’t known to roll back, it might have broken.
“No!” she said again. “I’m not going with you.”
A blur shot by her, and she heard the sickening crack of breaking bone. The arm released her and she collapsed to the ground. Strong arms hefted her up and she recognized the spice and herb scent of Kellan. She buried herself in it, wrapped herself in the comfort of it.
“He’s Gabriel’s,” she tried to explain, not sure why she still thought it was important to tell him. “He tried to take me.”
He nodded, “I know, I know.”
She heard another break, and that confused her. Hadn’t it been Kellan who freed her? She blinked open her eyes and looked over her shoulder. Phantom was there, pale and slender. Blood stood out on one cheek. He stood over the prone body of her would-be captor with a small blade in his delicate hand.
“Well?” he asked. And it was then that she realized it had been Phantom who had called out to Kellan.
“Send everyone home, bring him into the club,” Kellan ordered. “Find out what he knows.”
Phantom nodded his head.
Kellan picked Emma up. “Leon and Vinny, oversee everything else. Joe, deal with the man’s car.”
Orders given, everyone jumped to obey.
Hannah asked if Emma needed anything.
“Yeah,” Kellan said as he walked the two of them towards his bike. “Drop her car off later.”
Chapter 10
Kellan had been right: a bike was freedom. There was something about the rumble of it beneath her, and the feel of the wind against her skin that made her feel vibrantly alive. She didn’t just think it was the adrenaline wearing off, though she could feel her head spinning with that, it was the sensation of being utterly exposed to the world as it went by at sixty miles an hour.
In the past month she had been attacked not once, but twice. Her father had passed away. She had gotten married and moved in with a husband who kept claiming that he didn’t want her, but liked to grope her backside and came rushing to her rescue. Her mother had shown up out of nowhere. It was easily too much for any one person to take.
He didn’t take the straightest way home. She didn’t know if he was making sure they weren’t being followed, or that she had enough time to relax. Maybe both. She wrapped her hands tighter around his middle and leaned her cheek against his leather-clad back.
She loved him, and she knew it. When she had been afraid, it had been his presence she had turned to. She had known his arms, his scent. Maybe she’d always loved him; maybe she hadn’t loved him until that moment. She really couldn’t say. There was a small chance that she had loved him before he’d ever walked into her life. It didn’t matter, she knew it now, and she wasn’t going to let him go.
Too much in her life was easy to walk away from. Her father, school, and the not really friends she had made over the years. Hannah may one day be a friend; she was definitely trying.
When they turned down a familiar street she knew he was finally taking her home.
Rocco was bouncing from one side of the living room to the other when they walked in, clearly ready for a walk. Kellan gave him a perfunctory pat and moved past the spot where the leash was hanging and came back from his room with a pistol in his hand.
“This is for you.”
“You shouldn’t have.” She tried to keep her tone light. She didn’t reach for the gun.
“Emma, you’ve been attacked twice now. It’s time for you to be armed.”
“Statistically, a woman with little or no training with a weapon is more likely to have the weapon used against her than to use it well enough to be of help.”
“Where do you get all this?”
“I read.”
“Well, I can tell you from real experience that a chick with a gun can be scary enough to keep the bad guys back.”
She leveled her gaze at him. Her lips parted with every intention to explain how many women had been assaulted with their own guns, but he shoved it into her hands. The weight of it had her blinking. �
�It’s heavy!”
“It’s a weapon, not a feather. Keep it with you.”
“Fine,” she said, unwilling to argue. “Take the dog out before I have to clean up a mess.”
He gave her one final look before plucking up the leash and heading out the door.
She waited until he was gone to put the gun carefully on the table; images of it accidentally going off filled her head. Emma knew they were ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop them from happening anyway. She much preferred Aikido, or other forms of martial arts for self-protection. Guns were too easy to take away, too easy to use. It took passion to punch someone. It took a muscle jerk to pull a finger.
With a few minutes to herself she headed to the bedroom. Her funeral dress felt heavy as she tugged it off her shoulder and tossed it across the room like a memory she already wished she could forget. There were too many of those lately. With a careless gesture she undid her long hair, brushing it out as she mentally picked out pajamas.
Too many bad memories lately. Too many bad memories that made up her life. All she wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was a nice, quiet life. She wanted to not have to look out a window and worry. She wanted to find a good man, have a baby or two, and make a simple life.
She loved Kellan, but life with him could never be simple.
Emma sighed at herself and heard the beep of her phone. She glanced at the message. It was Kellan. Keep the gun with you, not sitting out somewhere.
She stuck her tongue out at the screen and typed back, How did you know?
He responded a few minutes later with, I’m not a college boy, but I can read you like a book.
It brought a smile to her face. With a dramatic sigh that no one heard she went into the living room and plucked the gun off the table. It was still heavy. She lugged it back to her room and put it on the table next to her bed. There, she thought, he can’t complain about the location now.
Emma didn’t want him to complain. She wanted him to like her. No, she amended, she wanted him to love her. Or at least admit that he felt something for her besides respect for her now deceased father.
She hadn’t even realized what she was planning until she pulled on a red satin nightgown. The shade of it brought out the natural hue in her cheeks, made her skin look luminescent. The fabric was dark and clingy, cupping the natural shape of her breasts so her nipples stood out like thumb tips. The skirt wasn’t particularly long, but there were high slits that flashed a good amount of thigh every time she walked.
Emma had bought the nightgown as a joke. Today she wasn’t laughing. She let her hair fall around her face. She knew she looked good; it didn’t take much. She wondered how much it would take to seduce Kellan, her husband.
She’d never tried seducing a man before. The one or two who had fumbled their way into her pants hadn’t been all that interesting, and hadn’t sparked her desire to try again. But Kellan was different, his presence was magnetic. The touch of his lips had her toes curling in a way she had always thought was pure myth.
She planned on finding out exactly how much her toes could curl tonight.
When the front door opened she pulled a robe over her shoulders. She took one last look in the little mirror. She didn’t look half bad, she decided. In fact, she looked good. She ran her fingers through her hair, making it look sensually rumpled. She didn’t bother with makeup, though she was tempted. It was too late anyway, and chances were it would just get all messed up.
“Emma?” he called.
She stood up and opened her bedroom door. “This is it,” she whispered to herself. She walked out of the bedroom and looked at him. It must have started to rain because Kellan was damp with droplets. Rocco shook off his own wet and pranced around her legs.
“Oh no,” she said, sidestepping the mutt, “you go lay down in your bed. You are all wet.”
While Rocco didn’t understand the whole statement, his ears pricked at the phrase “go lay down.” With an aggrieved huff he wandered off to Kellan’s room, leaving the two humans very much alone.
“I called Rudy while we were on a walk. Turns out Samantha is the one who told your mom to come.”
Emma felt a lash of heat ripple through her. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what she was thinking.”
Emma looked into his face. His brows were smooth and his eyes open wide enough that she could see that he really didn’t know. For all his talents with people, he really was oblivious. “Then you are an idiot.”
“What?”
Emma shook her head, making her loose hair fan out around her face. “She wants you. She wants you bad, and she thinks I am standing in the way of you having her.”
He continued to look confused. “But you aren’t.”
Emma chuckled, low and unamused. Her eyes were glittering with the kind of anger that was born out of frustration and possessiveness. It wasn’t quite jealousy, but it was pretty close. “But she thinks so. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want me around. I can’t blame her. I’m definitely the better woman.”
His lips curled into a smile. “I won’t argue about the better woman thing. It’s really no competition from where I am standing.”
She liked the way that sounded. Maybe seducing him wouldn’t be that difficult. “Oh really?”
He ran his tongue over his lips, they glittered softly. She wanted to kiss them, wanted to melt into them. She managed to keep her distance, at least for the moment.
“Listen, I hate to burst your bubble, but even if you weren’t around, I’m not going for Samantha. I don’t like her.”
“I know I’m not the worldliest person when it comes to this kind of thing, but I’m fairly aware that people can have sex with someone they don’t like.”
He shrugged and tugged off his damp jacket. With a haphazard gesture he tossed it across the back of the couch. She frowned at him. She didn’t like to think of herself as a nagging housewife, but she had spent her boring hours trying to make his bachelor pad a little less cluttered. Besides, rainwater could make things moldy.
With a stern look from her he picked it up and hung it in the closet. “Yeah, all right. I’m sure I could. But that girl is like a virus. She likes to latch on and stick around even when you are done with her. And yeah, she’s hot but there is nothing else there. She doesn’t talk, she isn’t nice, and hell, I’ve heard from a couple of the guys that the sex isn’t that great.”
“Poor Samantha.” Emma took a deep breath and blew it slowly out of her nostrils. She wasn’t going to let that woman ruin this moment. She wasn’t even here. With a deft movement she tugged the sash loose and opened up the robe. “Poor, poor Samantha.”
Maybe it was the tone in her voice, or the flash of skin as the robe opened. Either way, Kellan’s head whipped towards her. “What are you wearing?”
“Not much.”
“Jesus, woman. Put yourself away.” He took a step back. His misty hazel eyes were wide.
“No.” She kept her tone firm. With more grace than she had known she was capable of she sauntered over to him. She thought of Hannah’s expert sashay. His gaze darted down to the swell of her breasts, the movement of her hips. “I don’t think so. You see, I plan on using you tonight.”
He blinked as if she’d struck him across the face with a pan. “You…what? Use me? How?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on her toes. Her lips nearly brushed his as she talked. “Kellan, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m stressed. This is worse than finals. Hell, this is like three weeks worth of finals with no notes and no study time. Everything in my life is screwed up one way and down another and I am just not okay with that. What I want, what I need, is to relax…and you are real good at helping me with that.”
He cleared his throat. “You think so?”
“Well, you’ve put your mouth on me often enough to give me an inkling. More than that, our little encounter in the kitchen had me thinking that you’d be real good at making me
forget all my problems.”
She felt his muscles tense, the clutch of his fingers still at his sides. He was like a wire that she was tightening. If she kept going, she was almost sure he would break. She wanted him to break for her. After all these years wondering what Kellan would be like, she wanted the reality of it.
“Emma, I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He didn’t move as her arms slithered around his middle.
She stepped close enough that her breasts brushed against his chest with every breath. His hands flexed at his sides. She ran her tongue over her own lips and felt him shudder against her. His eyes had zeroed down into pinpoints.