Divine Domination

by Lili Valente

  Still, she was trying to put together a few coherent sentences, something she could say to ease tensions on the off chance that Harley brought up Jasper on the way to the plane, when Dom appeared in the doorway.

  He was alone, a grim look in his eye Hannah didn’t understand until she heard the faint drone of a plane engine flying low over the house, heading away to the east.

  Her next breath emerged with a huff as she realized who must be flying the plane. “She left us. That’s Harley, isn’t it? Flying the plane? She left us here.”

  Dom dropped his gaze to the floor. “Looks like it. There’s no one else on the property and I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

  Hannah cursed, while Jackson laughed, a humorless sound that transformed to a groan. “Fuck, it hurts to laugh.”

  “Then don’t,” Hannah said, her voice sharp with rage. “There’s nothing to laugh about. And if you die because she ran away and left us, I’m going to hunt her down and kill her myself.”

  Jackson tightened his grip on her hand. “No. No more hunting. No more revenge.”

  She glanced down at him, her anger fading a few degrees when she saw the love so clear in his eyes.

  “We’re going to get out of here,” he continued, “I’m going to heal, and then you and I are going to make a life together away from all the crazy people in our lives.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s all I want.”

  Hannah leaned down to kiss his forehead again, silently willing the cleanup crew to move faster. The sooner she and Jackson were away from this place of fear and death and moving toward their brighter future, the better.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jackson

  Jackson did his best not to pass out, not wanting to scare Hannah, who he suspected wasn’t holding up as well as she was pretending to for his sake.

  But by the time the two burly members of Stewart Mason’s cleanup crew arrived with a stretcher to carry him to the private jet¸ he was so lightheaded he couldn’t fight the urge to sink into something deeper than sleep.

  He blinked out and when he flickered on again—coming to staring at a vaulted ceiling in a room that smelled faintly of roses—he had no idea where he was, how he’d gotten there, or how much time had passed since he’d been shot.

  Shot.

  He’d been shot and his father was dead.

  The memories came in a cold flood, making it hard to draw a deep breath.

  He shifted on the crisp sheets beneath him, becoming aware of the IV in his arm—evidently the reason he wasn’t desperately thirsty or suffering from more than a dull ache in his chest—and the woman asleep in the recliner in the corner. It was Hannah, in black spandex pants and a soft-looking red sweater, curled up with an afghan she’d wadded beneath her head to use as a pillow. Her hair was tangled, her face pale, and it looked like she might have been drooling on the blanket sometime during the night.

  She was beautiful, so perfect and precious his heart lurched, sending an ugly sensation coursing down his right arm.

  He grunted softly as the pain came and went. As soon as the sound rumbled through his throat, Hannah bolted upright, blinking sleepy blue eyes in his direction.

  “You’re awake.” She slipped out of her chair and crossed the room to his bedside, taking his hand as she perched carefully on the mattress beside him. “How do you feel?”

  “All right,” he said, his voice rough with disuse. “Pretty good really, considering. How long have I been out?”

  “Almost two days,” she said, worry clear in her eyes. “You lost a lot of blood. Thankfully, my mother was a match so the doctor was able to do a transfusion not long after we landed.”

  “I’ll have to thank her.” He glanced around the room, not sure how he felt about recovering in what he assumed was Stewart Mason’s home. Stewart’s money and connections had no doubt saved his life, but if Sybil’s suspicions were correct, the man had also hired Ian to kill his own brothers.

  “No, you won’t,” Hannah said, her tone brittle. “She wasn’t happy about it. She wanted to let you die, but I convinced her to do it. For me.”

  His brows lifted and fell. “Well, I guess I’m lucky she loves you, then.”

  “I guess so.” Hannah sighed, her gaze falling to their joined hands. “Or lucky she feels guilty or whatever it is that goes through her head when she looks at me.”

  She ran her free hand through her tangled hair. “I don’t think it was really about you. Apparently, she had a thing with your father and it ended badly. She was never the same after the year she spent with him.”

  “What?” Jackson frowned. “You’re kidding.”

  She laughed softly. “No, I’m not. That’s why you became Harley’s target. She wanted revenge against your father. So she decided to ruin his son in exchange for ruining our mother.”

  He relaxed back onto the pillows, strangely comforted by the revelation.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” Hannah said, peering at him through her lashes.

  “I’m not. I mean, I’m surprised to hear about Ian’s relationship with your mother, but I’m not surprised I was a target because of something he’d done. I’d thought of that before, that one of his enemies might have assumed the best way to ruin my father was to destroy his only child.”

  He glanced down at his wounded chest, his lips curving in a bitter smile. “Harley obviously didn’t realize that Ian couldn’t have cared less if I lived or died.”

  Hannah brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” She glanced over her shoulder, before adding in a softer voice, “I don’t trust Dad. He’s been nothing but helpful and sorry, but it’s clear he’s not a fan of our relationship. And I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something he’s not telling me.”

  “About what?” he asked, wondering if Hannah knew about Sybil’s suspicions. He didn’t imagine so, or she wouldn’t be able to speak her father’s name without horror in her voice.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s something about your dad. Or your dad and my mom, something that happened while they were together maybe, but I know better than to push. If I do, he’ll shut down and disappear and we’ll be left alone with Mom and the maids.”

  “Might not be so bad,” he said. “I’m not in any hurry to meet your father.”

  Hannah’s lips pursed to one side. “Oh yeah? You’re not planning to ask him for permission to court me?”

  “I don’t need his permission,” Jackson said, holding her gaze. “I have your permission.”

  Her expression softened. “You most certainly do.” She squeezed his hand. “Dom told me to tell you he’s sorry for the things he said on the plane, by the way. He didn’t give me specifics. He just said that you were right and I was stronger than he’d given me credit for.”

  Jackson grunted. “He should have apologized to you, not me.”

  “He did,” she said, her smile fading. “And then he left to go find Harley. She’s given Dad’s people the slip and disappeared.”

  “Why?” The mention of her sister’s name sent nothing but a vague irritation flashing through his chest, proving that his lust for revenge was truly dead and buried. “My father’s gone. The danger’s over.”

  Hannah ducked her head. “Yeah, well, maybe she doesn’t know that. Maybe she thinks he’s still out there. Which means…”

  “That she left without knowing you were safe,” Jackson supplied with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Hannah.”

  She shrugged but didn’t speak again for a long moment.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” he added gently. “I know you were happy to find out that she’s alive, but she’s not the kind of person you need in your life.”

  “I know I don’t need her in yours,” Hannah mumbled, keeping her gaze on the flowered quilt covering his legs.

  “You don’t have to worry about me.” Jackson shifted his head, trying to catch her eye. “Look at m
e, Hannah.” He waited until she reluctantly lifted her gaze. “I meant what I said. I’m not going to do anything to Harley. And I’m not going to go looking for her, either. Not anymore. I’m ready to let it go, to let go of everything except you and me.”

  “You promise?” Her eyes began to shine. “Even if you found out she’d done something else? You would still want to let it go?”

  “Something like what?” he asked, brow furrowing.

  She shook her head as she tilted her chin down, sending her tangled curls falling into her face. “Nothing. I don’t know anything for sure. I didn’t ask enough questions. I thought there would be time to talk later. But instead she ran away.”

  She laughed, a strained sound that ended in a soft sob. “I feel so stupid. I actually believed that she was sorry. I bought her lies all over again, the way I did when I was a kid.”

  Jackson studied her for a moment, unable to shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

  Something more than you being unconscious for two days, her father being a criminal, her mother loathing her new lover, and her sister running off without bothering to make sure Hannah survived, you mean?

  It was true. Hannah had been through hell and now wasn’t the time to push her about Harley or anything else. If he was going to prove to her that he was ready to let go of the past, actions would speak louder than words.

  “Can you get me a new cell phone?” he asked, inspiration striking. “Something I can be sure my father’s people didn’t have traced?”

  Hannah nodded. “Of course. I’ll go to the store this afternoon.”

  “You should go now,” he said, releasing her hand. “If I can reach the right people before noon, we should be able to fly out tonight.”

  Her eyes widened. “Fly where?” she asked eagerly, betraying her excitement before she shook her head. “No. You can’t fly. You’re hurt and you’ve been unconscious for two days.”

  “I’m fine to fly,” he said. “But if you’re worried I can make sure wherever we end up has a doctor on call.”

  She pegged him with a hard look. “A doctor who won’t mind treating a gunshot wound without blabbing about it? I don’t think so. We have to lie low, Jackson. My father said you’re being investigated by the CIA.”

  Jackson snorted. “They’ve been investigating for years. If they haven’t found enough to arrest me by now, they never will.”

  “Well, you’ll forgive me if I’d rather we not put your hubris to the test.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again to a prison sentence.”

  “You’re not going to lose me,” he said, hating that he was the reason for the pinched, exhausted expression on her face. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes blinked open. “For what?”

  “For coming to you with so much baggage,” he said. “I’d undo it if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is promise you that it ends here. From now on, I’ll be conducting business strictly above board. Legal channels only.”

  Hannah smiled, a beautiful, hopeful smile that made Jackson swear he’d do whatever it took to keep it in place. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

  “I do.” He reached up to cup her cheek in his hand. “It’s all over your face, sunshine.”

  She pressed her lips together. “For a while, I wasn’t sure I’d hear you say that again. The past few days have been…pretty terrible.”

  “I’m sorry about that too,” he said, scooting over to make room for her on the bed. “Come here, lie down with me.”

  “I’ll hurt you,” she said, but she was eyeing the empty space beneath his arm with a hunger that made it clear how badly she needed to be held.

  “You will not.” He clenched his jaw as he waved her onto the bed, refusing to show her how sore his other side still was. “And even if you do, you know I like a little pain.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Now’s not the time for that.”

  “It’s the perfect time,” he said in a close approximation of his Dom voice. “So get your ass in this bed. Right now.”

  With a laugh, she climbed onto the bed and curled against his side, her head on his good arm and her palm resting lightly on his stomach. And even though it hurt, he hugged her closer. Pain and pleasure had always been tangled up with her, this woman he loved beyond all reason.

  “I’ll rest today, but tomorrow we’re getting on a plane,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll find a peaceful place to celebrate the holiday and plan our next move.”

  “Our next move. I like the sound of that,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Speaking of the holiday, I talked to Sybil yesterday. She and Hiro are back on the island. She said to give you her love and thanks when you woke up.”

  “I’m glad someone approves of our relationship.”

  “Yeah, that’s nice, isn’t it?” She sounded more amused than troubled by the fact that most of her family would be happier in a world without Jackson in it. “I told her it was all over and she was free to come home, but she’s decided to stay. Hiro’s going to help her fix up the bed and breakfast. Apparently he’s moving in this week.”

  “You didn’t tell her the truth?”

  Hannah snuggled closer to his side. “No, I didn’t. She’s so happy and in love. And I figured that’s Hiro’s call. I believe he cares about her. If he’s decided it’s kinder to let the lie of why they met stand, I’m going to trust he has a good reason for it. I know honesty is important, but maybe sometimes it’s kinder to give the person we love the gift of ignorance.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said, thinking about Sybil’s suspicions about her brother, which she’d apparently kept from her niece for her entire life.

  Maybe Sybil had come to the same conclusion that Hannah had, that sometimes it was kinder to keep the truth from the people we love. There was nothing to be gained from Hannah knowing that her father might have ordered the murder of his brothers. She obviously already knew that she couldn’t trust the man. Learning that he was even more of a monster than she’d assumed would only hurt her and make her wonder how much of that DNA had made its way into her own genetic makeup.

  Jackson knew what that felt like. He didn’t know if he’d ever look in the mirror again without seeing the shadow of his father’s sins written in the lines of his face. Hannah didn’t deserve that baggage. She deserved happiness and peace and a life where the future was wide open.

  Which compelled him to ask a question he wished he could avoid.

  “What if I can’t come all the way back, Hannah?” he asked, running his fingertips lightly up and down her arm.

  She shifted, frowning up at him. “What do you mean? You’re going to make a full recovery. The doctor said there wasn’t any major damage.”

  “I don’t mean that,” he said, lifting his gaze to the ceiling. “I mean back from the things I’ve done. I’m not worried about a few days here and there, but I can’t settle permanently in the States while I’m on a CIA watch list. And I don’t know if that threat is ever going to go away. Your options will be limited because of me. After everything you’ve been through I wouldn’t blame you if you needed some time to decide if that’s what you really want.”

  Hannah propped herself up on one arm, bringing her face even with his before she said in a soft, but firm voice, “Don’t even try it, Hawke.”

  He studied her, admiring the strength in her pretty eyes. “Try what?”

  “To get away from me,” she said seriously. “You’re where I want to be. The rest of it is just geography.”

  An unexpected stinging sensation pricked at his eyes and his voice was hoarse when he said, “You’re where I want to be, too.”

  Hannah’s lips trembled into a smile. “Are you going to cry?”

  “No,” he said, with a sniff. “My arm’s hurting. That’s all.”

  She made a cooing sound, kissing his cheek before she whispered against his skin, “You’re the sweetest m
an in the world. Do you know that?”

  Jackson grunted. “If you knew the dreams I was having about you while I was out you would know just how wrong you are.”

  “Oh yeah?” She pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Were they dirty dreams?”

  “Filthy.” His cock stirred, the foolish thing too stupid to know he would hurt himself if he tried anything more than talk right now. “I had you tied up in a swing with your knees in your armpits and you were so fucking wet and begging me to take you. There were clamps on your nipples and—”

  “Miss Hannah,” a feminine voice called from out in the hall, making Hannah flinch, “are you ready for your breakfast tray, ma’am?”

  “Leave it in the hall, please, Miriam,” Hannah called out, holding Jackson’s gaze as her hand slipped lower, sliding beneath the waistband of his pajama pants. “And bring another tray for Mr. Hawke, please. He’s finally awake.”

  “Wide awake,” Jackson whispered as Hannah gripped his erection and began to stroke him slowly up and down.

  “Yes ma’am,” Miriam said. “That’s wonderful news.”

  “It is,” Hannah agreed, tightening her grip until Jackson couldn’t stop a groan from escaping his lips.

  He lay back, focusing on keeping his heart from pounding through his chest as Hannah expertly worked his cock until he came so hard his vision blurred, smudging the sharp edges of the tray ceiling.

  “Good?” she asked, kissing his throat, where his pulse still beat faster.

  “Amazing,” he murmured, running a palm over her hip. “My turn.”

  But before he could slip his hand down the front of her pants to return the favor, she’d squirmed away and slid off the edge of the bed.

  “No, you’re hurt,” she said, reaching for tissues from a box beside the bed. “You need to rest and get your strength back.”

  “I don’t need to rest.” Jackson shifted higher on his pillows, ignoring the pain that flashed through his shoulder as he put weight on his injured side. “I need you to come on my hand.”