The Woman Sent to Tame Him

by Victoria Parker

  ‘Long story short: it was a get-rich-quick scheme run by some highly intelligent brains who had a perverted opinion of hospitality.’

  He grimaced, as if the memories tasted vile on his tongue, and her heart thrashed for him.

  ‘After about four days the bartering began, and on the fifth day they brought Tom in. Threatened him. Gave me the choice to do him over or they would.’ A mirthless huff burst past his lips. ‘The kid always looked at me like I was some kind of hero and there I was, inclined to knock him unconscious rather than allow the guards to maul him.’

  The space behind her ribs inflated with his pain and her stomach gave a sickening twist. Because it was sick. Twisted. Perverted. ‘Oh, Finn.’ What a decision to have to make. It must have been torture for him—for them both.

  ‘They knew fine and well he was my weakness, and I couldn’t stand the lack of control.’ With a rueful shake of his head he glanced towards the wide double doors leading to the balcony, where the strokes of dawn painted the sky in amber and gold. As if he searched for peace and beauty in the midst of such horror. ‘To wrench some of it back I threw more money in the pot, and within two hours sixty million had been transferred from my Swiss bank account into one on the Cayman Islands.’

  Self-derision twisted his full lips and her back crushed the downy cushions as she braced herself.

  ‘It was a long shot, so I wasn’t particularly surprised when two days later we were moved to an abandoned liner off the coast. I knew then we weren’t getting out of there alive.’ He jabbed his fingers through his hair. ‘Tom was getting weak, losing his will. I got desperate. Bribed one of the guards to get him out. He could only take one of us for risk of getting caught. I didn’t bother telling Tom. Didn’t want him objecting to leaving me behind. He was an honourable kid.’

  His voice cracked and the fissure streaked through her heart.

  ‘Courageous too. You’d have been proud of him, Serena.’

  Her trembling fingers slapped over her mouth to capture the sob that gathered force in her chest and burned the base of her throat. After all they’d been through together she was not going to break in front of Finn. She was not going to be weak.

  ‘Next night, as planned, the guard smuggled him out. Whether he was anxious to get back before his absence was noticed or whether there was a struggle, I don’t know, but he decided to drop him close to the port...’

  His devastating gaze locked on hers, filled with pain, such heart-wrenching pain, that she sank her blunt nails into her palms, trying to stay motionless...

  ‘So he could swim the half-mile to the shore.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she breathed.

  ‘Serena, I didn’t know—or I would’ve warned the guard. I didn’t know he could barely swim and I sent him to his death.’

  The walls of her chest clamped vice-like as she shook with the effort not to crack. She had to stay strong for both of them. It was all so tragic. So heartbreakingly unfair.

  Swallowing thickly, she prayed her voice wouldn’t rupture. ‘You couldn’t have known unless he’d told you. He was really embarrassed about it.’

  He’d been petrified of deep water too, but there was no way she was telling Finn that; he had enough to carry on his conscience. Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.

  Back she went, hurtling towards the emotional precipice, her eyes pooling with moisture. God, how did she make them stop? Averting her face, she blinked rapidly as her defences began to splinter.

  Apparently she wasn’t the only one, because in a flash Finn was striding across the floor and plunging to his knees in front of her. Her Finn.

  Moving in between her legs, he brushed a lock of hair from her temple in a tender graze and pressed his lips to her cheek. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. So sorry I took him from you.’

  The sound of his voice, so broken and desolate, slapped some strength into her spine and she cupped his face with a firm, warm touch and hardened her voice.

  ‘You didn’t take him from me. They took him from me. It was not your fault.’

  ‘How can you say that? I am the sole reason he is gone. They wanted my money, Serena.’

  ‘No. If that were true they would have taken just you. They saw an opportunity and they took it. Don’t you see? You were both in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  His jaw tight enough to crack a filling, he frowned deeply. ‘I sent him out there.’

  ‘You were trying to save his life. It was a tragedy borne from their actions, not yours.’

  A sense of déjà vu flirted with her mind. How many times had someone said that to her after the attack? Yet had she ever truly believed them? No. Since Finn had come into her world she’d realised her life was built on shaky foundations and she’d never truly moved on.

  She didn’t want that for him. To be trapped in some kind of stasis, haunted by the past.

  She swept his damp hair back from his brow and his eyelids grew heavy. ‘This is going to ruin you, Finn. This guilt that is driving you. I want it to stop. Tom wouldn’t want this.’

  Finn’s frustration ignited and he jerked from her grasp, bolted to his feet and veered away from her. ‘That’s your emotions talking after sharing a bed with a born seducer. Sooner or later it will pass and you’ll blame me—hate me as you should.’

  ‘I’ll never hate you, Finn. Ever. Nor will I blame you. You need to accept that.’

  For an infinitesimal moment he simply stared at her. His expression was pinched with pain, but it was the intense flare in his cerulean eyes that lifted her spirits. Hope was reflected there...faith that slowly diminished as if the lights were going out in his soul.

  ‘Serena, don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re allowing good sex to drive your emotions and cloud your judgement. Already you’ve forgotten that I’ve lied to you for months.’

  Unwilling even to consider how easily incredible sex could be downgraded to ‘good’ within hours—she wasn’t ready for that reality just yet—she felt a burst of unease fire through her stomach. Nothing had been forgotten. But some sixth sense beat an ominous warning that his answers would never suffice. Only hurt. Badly.

  Ignoring the tumultuous roil inside her, she lifted her chin. ‘First off, don’t speak to me like I’m some female and I don’t know my own mind. I promise you it’s not misted by desire up there. But maybe now is a good time to tell me why. Why you lied to me. Why, almost a year later, I would still be in the dark if I hadn’t walked in on you tonight.’

  The more she considered it, the more bewildered she became. And, if she were honest, there was a good dose of humiliation in there at her naïvety too. Once again she’d fallen into the hands of deceit, and the fact that those hands belonged to Finn was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Finn flung the double doors wide, inviting the bite of British morning air to swirl around her ankles. Then he braced his hands on the overhead frame and looked out onto the green acreage surrounding the Country Club, the golden wash of dawn warming his pale complexion.

  ‘Fact is Tom’s drowning ruffled the rogue guard and he tipped off the Singapore police to my whereabouts.’

  It wasn’t difficult to comprehend the acrid tinge to his dark voice—Tom’s death had likely saved Finn from a worse fate and that was anathema to him.

  ‘The brains behind the operation disappeared—the ransom too, through laundering. There have been a few leads but it’s slow going. We didn’t want you in any danger, getting caught up in the ongoing investigation. I suggested you were told the same story as everyone else. Your dad agreed. He didn’t want you hurting any more than you already were.’

  ‘Wow, tough love must have gone by the wayside that day.’ Then again, Michael Scott couldn’t handle her at the best of times. Showing his love didn’t come naturally or easily.

  ‘Plus,’ he
began warily, his arms plunging to his sides, ‘I kind of promised Tom I would look out for you. Make sure you didn’t go looking for blood.’

  The rush of anger drained away as quickly as it had come, leaving a numb sensation bleeding into every inch of her. Yeah, that was exactly what Tom would have done. But that wasn’t the reason she crossed her arms over her chest to calm the dark storm brewing behind her ribs.

  ‘Would this promise to look out for me be the reason you offered to be my friend weeks ago?’ Say no. Say no.

  Keeping his gaze averted, he shoved his hands into deep denim pockets. ‘You could say that, yes.’

  Whack. His words punched her midriff, making her flinch. ‘That’s very...noble of you, Finn.’ Was that really her voice? That cracked melody of sarcasm and bitterness? A portrayal of a heart betrayed.

  There she’d been, blissfully ignorant, revelling in the idea that he wanted to spend time with her. God, she’d even luxuriated in the way his guilt had eased, making him more content—had rejoiced in the sanguine expectation that she was the reason for it. And all the while he’d been keeping a promise. While she could grasp his need to, as far as she was concerned as soon as their friendship had developed into more they’d gone way beyond that. Why not just tell her before they slept together? It felt like dishonesty.

  ‘You know what really gets to me?’ she said, pleading with her strength not to abandon her now. ‘Every day you omitted to tell me the truth, and every night I came closer to...’ To falling for you. ‘To trusting you. To sharing your bed. How could you do that, Finn? Lie with me...’ Make love to me with such intensity. ‘While keeping something so huge, so important to me a secret?’ Give me a good reason, please.

  When he finally turned to face her, one corner of his mouth lifted ruefully. ‘I’ve never pretended to be a saint, Serena. The sinner in me simply couldn’t resist you.’

  Their eyes caught...held...and she told herself she was misreading the fierce fervour in his gaze. That all along she’d imagined the emotional pull. If he’d felt more for her he would have had the decency to tell her the truth well before he’d taken her body. What had you been secretly hoping for, Serena? That he was falling like you were? You’re a fool.

  ‘I warned you, baby. That you were making the biggest mistake of your life.’

  Yes, he had. ‘So be it,’ she’d said, and here she was.

  The cyclone of torment in her chest picked up pace and the strain of keeping her head high wrought a deep throb in the muscle of her nape.

  It was a foolish heart and a fledgling female pride that spoke. ‘Tell me something, Finn. Is every woman your baby too?’ Please say no. In truth, she wished the words right back. Didn’t want to hear she’d meant nothing to him. A silly, stupid girly part of her wanted to keep hoping she’d been different from all the others. Special in some way. As unique as he’d frequently told her.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw and his brow pinched for one, two, three beats of her thundering heart. Then he hitched one broad shoulder in insouciance.

  ‘Naturally.’

  And just like that her stomach hollowed and she felt emptier than she ever had before.

  ‘Naturally,’ she repeated, with all the blasé indifference she could muster as she fought the anguished throb of her body.

  Lashes weighted, she allowed them to fall until he disappeared.

  Serena Scott—one of many. Like all the nameless faces that had wandered through his life. Her father’s too. A woman she’d sworn she’d never become.

  Anger hit her like an explosion of fire. At him, yes, but equally at herself. For opening up once again. Being susceptible, vulnerable to a man.

  Why did unlocking your heart, daring to dream, have to hurt so much? Have to end in crushing heartbreak and pain? There she’d been, lying blissfully in his arms, believing every word from his lips. Sure he was coming to feel more for her, that she was enough to hold his attention. Teasing her mind’s eye with more blissful nights, more exciting wonderful days. A future.

  Enough.

  On a long sigh she opened her eyes. Literally and figuratively.

  Thank God she’d discovered the truth before she’d fallen in love with him. It was petrifying to think how close she’d come to doing just that.

  ‘Serena?’

  That deep voice, now perturbed, laced with concern, brought her attention back to where he stood.

  Ah. Worried he’d hurt her, was he? Well, admittedly she’d love to rail and scream at him, but the little pride she had left was too precious. When she walked out of this suite it would be with her head high and dignity roiling inside her.

  In fairness, he’d never pretended to be honourable with regards to women, and he’d warned her over and over. It was hardly his fault she’d strived to be a player, convinced she knew the rules, adamant that she’d come out unscathed. Instead she’d believed every expertly practised word. Misread every artful amorous touch.

  How could she have been so naïve? Again! Lesson learned.

  Moreover, right now the man teetered on the edge of a black abyss and she refused to be the one to push him over—she’d vacationed in hell before, and the view wasn’t pretty.

  Fear. Flashbacks. Nightmares. Menace surrounding you, burrowing into your soul. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his erratic behaviour on and off the track in the last few months now either. Even his own survival was anathema to him. He wished he’d died too. Or more likely instead of Tom.

  Come to think of it—dread curdled with her pique, making her stomach churn violently—it was entirely plausible that he was suffering from some kind of survivor’s guilt. She’d read about that somewhere—probably a pamphlet in some clinic. And if that were true he needed help.

  Somewhat reluctant to bathe in those beautiful eyes, she met them regardless. ‘Forget about you and me. We both knew it was just sex and now it’s over.’ His throat convulsed but she was determined not to read anything into it. Bad enough that she’d imagined he flinched. ‘I’ll never be ashes in your wake, Finn. You know me better than that.’

  ‘Good. That’s good.’ Relief soothed his taut features and he padded out onto the balcony and gripped the iron railing—white knuckles stark over black.

  Why could she still feel his pain as if it was a living, breathing entity inside her, melding with her own? As if they were bonded somehow? Heavens, it hurt.

  Serena glanced at the door leading to her suite and escape beckoned like an old friend. Her feet itched to run until she was too exhausted to feel anything. ‘I should go,’ she said abruptly. ‘We both need some sleep.’ If she felt battered and bruised from riding an emotional roller coaster he had to feel just as bad.

  Which was likely why she couldn’t move. Found herself ensnared in a vicious primal pull. Honestly, it was like turning her back on a wounded animal. She couldn’t do it. Despite everything, she couldn’t leave without trying one last time.

  The problem was no matter what she said no words were going to convince him he wasn’t to blame.

  Frustration ate at her.

  Leaving her angry aching heart indoors, she followed him onto the balcony. A crazy notion stirred up a hornets’ nest inside her even as she winced at the risk, at how he’d react, and wondered if she could even manage it without shattering.

  Easy, she came up behind him. ‘Don’t get a fright,’ she said softly, echoing his sentiment from the cabaret at Montreal. A night from her dreams... With deft speed she slammed the door on her reminiscing. Focus.

  His honed frame tensed.

  ‘Finn, it’s okay.’ She laid her hands on his back, as gentle and calming as if he were a skittish colt. She smoothed them around his waist, wrapped her arms about him and pressed her cheek to the soft, freshly laundered fabric of his T-shirt.

  ‘Serena,’ he choked out, m
uscles flexing as his grip tightened on the rail.

  After a ‘Shh...’ that ripped her soul, his shoulders dropped and he began to ease.

  ‘Let me?’ she asked, tiptoeing her fingers beneath the hem of his T and tentatively inching the material upwards before she pulled back.

  One look at the deep white criss-cross lines that marred the centre of his back, the puckered skin between his shoulder blades, and her chest ached viciously. Tears pooled, brimmed once more, and this time she let them fall. Unable to stop the rain. Surely she owed Tom nothing less.

  Boys don’t cry, Serena.

  Well, this girl did.

  Silent tears seared her swollen throat—for him, for Tom—as she leaned forward and tenderly kissed his back once, twice, before she rubbed her cheek against him gingerly, affectionately.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her voice as raw as her heart. ‘Thank you for making his last days bearable. For protecting him for me. For trying to save his life.’

  ‘Serena...’ he breathed, almost longingly, as his big body trembled.

  ‘Please don’t let his death be for nothing. You have your entire life ahead of you. He’d want you to live it.’

  Torso convulsing, he hung his head.

  Enough. No more. It was all over now.

  Serena let the fabric fall and trailed her fingers down his sides in goodbye. Then she turned and walked away with her head held high. Ready to fight another day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT was an almighty roar and the chant of Finn’s name from his fiercest homeland supporters rang in his ears as he stepped off the winner’s podium with a farewell wave and shot through the crowd. He hadn’t seen Serena since dawn, and the perpetual torment from his heart and conscience had him hurtling towards insanity.

  He had to see her. Check she was okay. In truth he’d swear he could feel her pain, and his arms ached to hold her—hell, his entire body ached for her. Had done since the moment she’d vanished from his suite. Since she’d ripped his heart out by pleading with him to live his life. The way she’d touched him so affectionately, forgivingly, would stay with him always.