King's Ransom

by Jackie Ashenden

But it hadn’t been until the moment she’d boarded the boat and smiled at me like I was everything she’d ever dreamed of that I’d accepted that the someone I needed was her.

  I’d been trying for distance, but distance with Imogen was impossible.

  Giving her back to White was impossible.

  Keeping her was not only possible, it was the only thing that made sense.

  It would piss White off and no doubt he’d retaliate, but I couldn’t let her go back. I couldn’t let that bastard use her or hurt her the way he’d been doing, making her feel like shit, like she had some debt to repay.

  My city was important to me and the safety of my brothers too, but somehow Imogen had become important as well.

  Having her was addictive and it wasn’t something I wanted to give up. Fundamentally, she understood that, deep down, we were the same. Both of us hungry for something we’d never been allowed to have. So why couldn’t we have it now?

  It was wrong to keep her, because she would find no freedom with me. Simply through being mine, she’d become a target and those guards of her father’s she’d hated would soon be her King security detail.

  She would only ever be alone with me or at my house.

  It wasn’t the life she should have, but there was no other choice. It was either that or give her back.

  You could let her go.

  Every part of me tightened in instinctive denial.

  Let her go back to what? She’d always be at risk from her father and, anyway, she was mine. Keeping her would ensure she stayed mine.

  Imogen’s eyes glittered like emeralds, green fire in the depths, a flame I’d never seen go out, not once. Her face was pale in the night yet it glowed with the strength of her emotion.

  For me.

  I wanted to tell her all the different ways she was right, that I did need someone, but that would take too long. What I really needed was to show her.

  So I shoved my chair back and got to my feet, stalking around the table to where she sat.

  She watched me come and when I bent and swept her up in my arms she took my face between her small palms and kissed me like she was dying of thirst and I was a cold glass of water.

  The dinner I’d organised was forgotten.

  I carried her into the cabin and down into the main stateroom, where there was a bed, and then I stripped that pretty green dress off her and laid her down onto it. I took all her sweet demand and gave it back to her, my hands on her skin, my mouth on hers, making the connection we were both desperate for and couldn’t get enough of.

  It felt easier after that.

  We couldn’t be bothered getting dressed so I brought dinner into the stateroom and we ate sitting on the bed, her printouts scattered on the sheets, Imogen talking nineteen to the dozen about everything she’d discovered on social housing.

  I could have listened to her talk all night. Her mind was a beautiful thing, jumping from topic to topic, looking at every angle and analysing each one in greater depth than I ever had. I kept her on track, helping her gather all the various parts of her subject into a whole so she could see the big picture, while she gave me insight into smaller aspects I hadn’t seen or had dismissed as being unworkable.

  ‘You should manage the housing project,’ I said, the idea gripping me and refusing to let go. ‘You’d be good at it.’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘Me? But I don’t know what I’m talking about.’

  She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, the sheet wound carelessly around her waist, her bare skin glowing from the lights coming through the portholes. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes like jewels.

  Beautiful girl.

  Yours. All yours.

  A satisfaction I hadn’t felt for years stretched out inside me.

  ‘But it wouldn’t take you long to get up to speed. I think it would be perfect for you. Lots of different things to think about, lots of balls to keep in the air. And I’d be around to help and keep you focused.’

  A crease appeared between her brows. ‘Ajax, you can’t put me in charge. I don’t know the first thing about housing, or building, or project management. I have no experience of anything. I wouldn’t even know where to start.’

  ‘Like I said, I’d help.’ I smiled at her. ‘Little one, that brain of yours is a gift. It needs to be put to good use and I think you’d be perfect for this. The way you see things, all the details, plus those outside the square ideas. Shit, your energy alone is what this project has always needed, because I sure as hell don’t have it. I had the idea, now I just need someone with vision to carry it out.’ I brushed my fingers over her soft cheek. ‘You have the vision. You have the energy. You have the interest. All you need is the confidence.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. Besides, choosing the right person for a job is part of what I do and I’m very good at it.’ I let my hand trail down to her chin. ‘I haven’t been wrong about a person yet.’

  ‘You might be wrong about me.’

  ‘No.’ I slid my fingers along her jaw and into her hair, curling around the back of her neck, drawing her towards me. ‘I don’t think I am.’

  She didn’t argue with me, not after that.

  Later, we came back out and watched the lights of Sydney drift by from the deck.

  She nestled into me as we stood at the rail and I held her, her curvy body fitting perfectly against me.

  And for the first time in my life I let myself think about a future that had all the things I wanted in it. A family with children, a wife.

  The things my brothers had, that I’d never thought would be mine.

  Do you really think that, after everything you’ve done, you deserve it?

  An intense possessiveness gripped me tight, anger gathering along with it. No, I didn’t deserve it and I sure as hell knew that. But I didn’t care. I’d worked hard to ensure Sydney stayed clear of bastards like my father, to give my brothers a future after all they’d been through, and now it was my turn.

  Next you’ll start believing you’re the hero she thinks you are.

  So? Would that be such a bad thing?

  A memory came back to me, of being in that warehouse with Dad, standing beside the broken and bleeding man in the chair, his hand resting on the guy’s shoulder. Dad had smiled as he’d told me what was expected of me, how he couldn’t allow disloyalty, most especially not from his own sons.

  His gaze hadn’t flickered as he’d held Xander and Leon’s lives over my head, using them to keep me in line. And I’d let him.

  You’re no hero. Heroes don’t let those they love get hurt.

  I’d been thirteen years old. What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Becoming Dad’s puppet was the only way I could save them.

  Imogen was standing in front of me and now she leaned back, resting her head on my chest, her blonde hair bright against the black cotton of my T-shirt.

  She didn’t smell of roses any more. She smelled of my soap, plus something indefinable and sweetly feminine. Like she’d taken my scent and made it her own.

  I leaned down and nuzzled against her hair, folding myself more protectively around her, trying to ignore the thoughts in my head.

  I needed to get her home and safe, but there was plenty of time for that. Once I’d let her father know she’d be staying with me I’d have to review my security and deal with the threat he presented, but until then I could take this moment the way she did. I could live in the here and now, and not think about what was going to happen in the future.

  Let her enjoy this taste of freedom while she could because, once her father knew she was staying with me, that freedom would end.

  She deserves that freedom. She deserves better than you.

  I shoved the thought away hard, slipping my arms around her waist
and pulling her in tight to me.

  She’d chosen me and I was keeping her.

  ‘Being with me isn’t going to be easy,’ I murmured into the night. ‘You understand that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘I’ll be a target, won’t I?’

  ‘You will.’ I didn’t want to sugar-coat it so I didn’t. ‘And I have many enemies.’

  ‘I can handle it.’

  ‘It’ll mean security. More guards.’

  ‘I get that. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.’

  She will care. Eventually.

  I gritted my teeth. ‘I’ll try and allow you as much freedom as I can. And maybe after I’ve dealt with your father—’

  She turned in my arms, her head tipping back to look up at me. ‘Don’t hurt him, Ajax.’

  The vehemence in her tone caught me off guard, as did the way she’d apparently read my mind.

  That slippery slope? You’re heading down it already.

  ‘I’m not going to hurt him.’ It sounded hollow to my own ears. Mainly because hurting him for what he’d done to her was exactly what I wanted to do.

  Imogen just looked at me. ‘Please promise me you won’t put yourself at risk. He’s not worth it.’

  ‘If it keeps you safe, anything’s worth it.’

  ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s not. Sometimes the end does not justify the means, especially if that end involves you being dead or in prison.’

  She was wrong. The end was the most important part.

  I stared down into her eyes. ‘But what if it means your freedom?’

  Her gaze didn’t even flicker. ‘I’m not worth that kind of sacrifice, Ajax, and I don’t want to be. You’ve already had to give up too much. I don’t want you giving up anything more.’

  ‘Your mother thought you were worth that sacrifice.’

  Her eyes darkened. ‘My mother didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘Imogen,’ I began.

  But she reached up and laid her finger across my mouth, silencing me. ‘No. This is one thing I’m not arguing with you about.’

  So I didn’t argue.

  I bit the tip of her finger gently instead and then we found something else to distract ourselves with.

  But I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that somehow I’d just made a mistake.

  For both of us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Imogen

  THE NEXT FEW days with Ajax were the happiest I’d ever had.

  I spent a lot of time researching his social housing project and discussing how we’d approach it.

  I still thought he was mad to put me in charge, but I couldn’t resist how confident he was that I could do it. It made me want to show him that he was right to be confident, that I could.

  With his help I put together a plan and it was exciting to see it take shape. There were so many details to get right. It suited the way my mind worked, especially when I thought of how to apply what I’d learned to other projects.

  I really loved knowing that we were helping people too.

  It made me feel like I was doing something valuable rather than mastering a lot of skills that ended up being useless.

  But work wasn’t all we did.

  We talked, about everything from our favourite pizza toppings to the price of property and whether the kids of today would ever be able to afford a house.

  Once I asked him what he did in his spare time and he told me he never had any spare time. I told him that was bullshit, he must have some hobbies, and eventually he took me down to the beach below his house and the tiny boathouse at the foot of the cliff where he kept a small yacht.

  He’d got it when he was young and had taught himself to sail, though he hadn’t been able to take it out much since his father had kept him so busy.

  I asked him to take me out in it so he did, and I sat in the prow, watching him work the sails and do things with the ropes, his strong hands sure on the rudder as we tacked across the blue water.

  The sun turned his hair glossy black, his eyes the colour of the sky above us as he watched the sails fill.

  His expression was concentrated but the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth, lines I’d never fully noticed before, had gone. And I realised that this, out here on the water with the sea and the wind and the sails, was freedom for him.

  He had no one to worry about. No one to protect. All he had to do was keep an eye on the weather and concentrate on the boat.

  Yet now he has another person to protect. You.

  I didn’t like what he’d told me that night on the harbour, how he’d do whatever it took to keep me safe. And I had an idea what that meant to Ajax, and it made me afraid for him. Afraid of what he’d sacrifice to protect me.

  I didn’t want him to have to sacrifice anything.

  He’d already risked his soul to take his father down, putting aside his own hopes and dreams along the way, ignoring the cost to himself.

  It wasn’t fair. He looked out for everyone else yet no one looked out for him. Sure, he had Xander and Leon, but they had their own lives. Did they know how much Ajax had done for them? Did they even realise what he was still doing for them?

  The thought made me ache and the closer we came to the day where he’d tell my father I was his, the deeper the ache became.

  Dad would never let me go and if I stayed with Ajax he’d make Ajax’s life even more difficult than it already was. He’d probably force Ajax’s hand, encouraging him to do something that would end up...

  Well, I didn’t like to think where that might end up because, wherever it was, it wouldn’t be good for Ajax.

  And, no matter what Ajax told me about me being worth the sacrifice, there was still a part of me buried deep that knew I wasn’t. He was more important than my freedom and always would be.

  Over the next couple of days, I made it my mission to figure out how he was planning on dealing with Dad, but he always changed the subject, or distracted me. Or simply told me not to worry about it.

  He seemed to think that it was my safety that I cared about.

  He was wrong. It was his.

  The day before the planned meeting with Dad was a beautiful day and I made Ajax take me out on his yacht again.

  I hoped he might be more forthcoming about what he was planning if he was in his happy place. Except, as the sails caught the wind and the boat skipped over the waves, Ajax grinning at how fast we were moving, I couldn’t bring myself to broach the topic.

  Then he pointed at something in the water. ‘Look, Imogen.’

  Distracted, I looked and saw a sleek grey shape cutting through the waves, keeping pace with the boat.

  A surge of wonder went through me. ‘Is it a dolphin?’

  ‘I think so.’ His voice was full of the same wonder, making me stare, because I’d never heard him sound that way before.

  The expression on his face was the most purely happy I’d ever seen him. Then the dolphin leapt and he laughed, the sound full of delight. A boy’s laugh. And in that second that’s what I saw—a boy, caught up in the excitement and wonder of the moment.

  My heart twisted like a wet towel being wrung out.

  Out on the waves he was free and I could see that freedom written all over his face. In his smile and in his laugh. In the relaxed way he sat in the boat, the tension in his shoulders gone.

  This was what he should be. This was how he should live.

  This was what he should have—the freedom to be who he was, and that wasn’t the dangerous man with the violent reputation that everyone was afraid of.

  It was a boy who loved the wind in his hair and the sun on his face and the sight of a dolphin leaping in the waves.

  I couldn’t let him sacrifice that freedom for me.

  ‘Did you see it?�
�� Ajax grinned. ‘Did you see him leap?’

  My eyes prickled with tears. ‘No, I missed it.’ I turned to focus on the shape of the dolphin in the water, blinking the moisture away.

  If he wouldn’t save himself then I would do it for him.

  Because there was no one else who could.

  He didn’t seem to notice my overly emotional moment and when we got back to the house I made some excuses about having to work on my project plan and disappeared upstairs into his office.

  But I didn’t look at the project plan.

  I emailed my father instead and told him I was coming home.

  It was surprisingly easy to set up.

  I’d tell Ajax I needed a car to go into the city for some spurious shopping trip and then Dad would meet me.

  The thought of going back to Dad’s prison made me feel cold and sick, but the thought of Ajax losing everything purely to protect me was even worse.

  I could bear being Dad’s trophy a few more years. It wouldn’t be for ever. Eventually I’d find a way to get free. Tonight, though, I’d have to keep my plan secret because obviously if Ajax found out he’d try to stop me.

  Arranging for a car wasn’t a drama; in fact I was almost annoyed by how easy it was to convince Ajax that I needed a shopping trip. And then, when the car arrived, he barely looked up from his laptop as I came to say goodbye.

  This would be the last time I’d ever see him and it hurt that he only gave me a quick glance as I bent to kiss him.

  But that was good. If he’d seen the tears in my eyes he’d have asked what was wrong and I didn’t think I had the strength not to tell him.

  So I only brushed my lips against his cheek, inhaling the scent of him one last time, imprinting him in my head for ever.

  ‘See you soon,’ he said, his gaze on his screen.

  I didn’t trust myself to speak, turning and walking through the door, letting the tears fall only once I’d got into the car.

  I didn’t want to leave him, but there was no other option.

  I loved him and if there was one thing Ajax King had taught me it was that, unlike my father, who’d used my love to get me to do what he wanted, Ajax’s love wasn’t selfish. He loved his brothers and his city and he put them first. Before everything.