by Sadie Carter
“Yes.”
“I know I ask too much. A new culture, a—”
“Yes.”
“And I’m bound to fuck up more than the average man. I—”
“Rich! Rich!” she half-yelled.
He stopped pacing and turned to her. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he asked, looking confused.
She rolled her eyes. “I said yes. I will come with you.”
“You will. Why?”
“For all the reasons you stated. I do not want to live without you.”
“But you will be giving up everything.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“No. Fuck, no.” He moved forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You mean it? Because once you come with me I’m not ever letting you go. Not ever. What is mine stays mine.”
His possessiveness didn’t scare her. On the contrary it was something she understood only too well. “And you will be mine. Forever. I, too, do not let go.”
“Fuck, yes.” He pulled her close but she shook her head and stepped back. “First, there are conditions.”
His scowl was fierce. “You said yes.”
Her Rich was strong and used to getting his way, but she was not intimidated. She was also used to getting what she wanted.
“There are conditions.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, looking suspicious. “Give me these conditions.”
“I will not sit in your home while you go and do your important things. I wish to fully be a part of your life. I may not know your culture or rules, but I am strong, smart, a good fighter and hunter, and I know how to intimidate when needed. I can be an asset to you.”
She had to feel useful, like she had a purpose or this would not work.
A slow grin crossed Rich’s face. “I’m going to need a bodyguard. Want to guard my body, baby?”
She was not sure why he called her a young child, but it was said with affection and no small amount of heat. She nodded. “I can guard your body. I do not know why you would need to remember dates and I do not know what an anniversary is. I will support you in what you need to do, but if I need to do something of importance you will give me your support.”
“Always, baby. Always.”
“And I wish us to have turns being the dominant one during joining.” She raised her chin, giving him a fierce look to know she was serious.
He did not react as she thought he would. Instead of looking angry or fighting her, he burst into laughter and pulled her close.
“All right. I think I can handle those conditions. Now on Earth, we have this saying, ‘let’s seal it with a kiss’.”
She frowned. “You do this with everyone?” She did not like the idea of him kissing other people. Especially other women.
“No, baby. Just with you. Always with you.”
Epilogue
“Hello, Duncan.” Rich stepped into High-Councillor Duncan’s study.
Duncan raised his head, looking startled. “How did you get in here? This is private property and you’re trespassing.”
“What? No, how are you, Rich? No, how have you been?”
The other man had aged terribly. He looked ragged, defeated. His shoulders were slumped, his body stooped. This was the strong opponent he had fought all these years? Of course, his own grandson’s betrayal and death must have had an impact on him. Rich’s sister, Annabel had told him how Maxwell had come after Sophie. He’d managed to kidnap her, but before he could get her to his ship, she shot and killed him. But Maxwell had revealed to Sophie how he had he had been plotting against his grandfather so that he could take over his position as Head-Councillor.
“I suppose you have come to gloat over the fact that my own grandson plotted to overthrow me?”
“No.”
The older man looked surprised.
“I’ve come to gloat over all the evidence I have gathered against you. Evidence that is being sent to the other councillors as we speak. Evidence that you have been siphoning funds from council coffers. Evidence that my father gathered but that conveniently went missing when he died in an accident. Or was it an accident?”
This was the reason he was here. Not to gloat, although he admitted to taking some enjoyment in defeating Duncan, but because he wanted the truth. Duncan was going down no matter what. Rich had so much evidence against him that he couldn’t fight it. But he wanted to know the truth of his father’s death.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But the other man looked guilty. And Rich watched as the other man reached under his desk.
“I would put that down if I was you.” The voice was dark, deadly, and beautiful.
Rich grinned at the look of shock on Duncan’s face as Laylla stepped out of the shadows of the room. Her sword was drawn, her hair whipping around her furiously. A coil of hair sprang out and wrapped itself around the blaster Duncan had been reaching for. She drew it back and tucked it into her jeans, in the small of her back. As soon as he’d introduced her to jeans, she’d refused to wear anything else. Not that he was complaining. The jeans were tight and molded to her perfect ass.
Duncan gaped at her, his mouth opening then closing. He looked like a fat-faced goldfish.
“Who are you?”
“She’s mine,” Rich told him.
“Yours? Where did you get her from?”
“That’s none of your concern. You’re done, Duncan. Defeated. And I’m going to take everything you had. I have it all. Power, wealth, and her.” He nodded over at Laylla. “Tell me the truth, did you kill my father?”
“Why would I admit that to you if I had? As you said, you have everything now.” The older man clapped slowly. “Well, done.”
Everything except the full truth.
Laylla stepped forward, her hair dancing around her, her gaze fierce. The old man shrank back, his fear clear. Coils of her hair wrapped around Duncan’s wrists, pinning them to the arms of his chair. Another coil circled his throat. Duncan swallowed visibly.
“You will tell him the truth.”
“I’m not afraid of death,” Duncan told her, even though Rich could tell that was a lie.
“There is a fast, merciful death,” Laylla told him as she walked slowly forward. “Or slow and very, very painful death. I will let you guess which one awaits you.”
Duncan’s body trembled, his face growing stark white. Then he licked his lips. “Fine, I did it. When your father confronted me with the evidence of my fraudulent activities, I knew I had to get rid of him. I slipped a drug into his drink that mimics a heart attack then Maxwell took his car and drove it into a tree, making it look as though he had had a heart attack and crashed. But if anyone asks I will deny it. You will never prove it.”
“I don’t have to.” A sense of satisfaction and relief filled him. It was over.
There was a loud pounding on the door and then someone called out, “Police!”
“I have what I need.” Rich turned to Laylla. “Shall we go, baby?”
Laylla nodded and they quickly slipped out of the study and into the next room. They walked out the French doors onto the balcony where they’d entered. It was on the second floor of the house, but Laylla used her hair as a rope, tying the ends to the banister. She wrapped more coils around him and he held on tight as she slowly lowered them both to the ground.
As they returned to his car, he stopped and pulled her against him. “Fuck, you were hot back there.” He kissed her, savage, hard. He was completely turned on.
She reached down and ran her hand up and down his hard cock. “I can see you enjoyed it.”
Hearing that his father had been murdered brought him no joy, but he was happy to finally have some closure.
“You know my payment,” she told him.
He grinned. “It’s your turn to take charge tonight. You earned it.”
And he would enjoy every fucking minute.
***
She stared down at the small wrapped item in confusion. “A present?”
“Yes, a present.” Rich looked amused. “It’s a gift, something meant to make you happy. It won’t bite.”
She shook it gently. “And you do this every year?”
“Twice a year. At Christmas and on your birthday.”
“My birth day? I do not know what day I was birthed.”
He looked startled. “You don’t?”
“No. It was not important to our people how old someone was, but how strong they were.”
“Well, we’ll pick a date to celebrate your birthday. But right now, I want to see you open your present.”
“But a fat man in a red suit did not really bring this to me? I would have heard had he entered our home.” Their home was something that still delighted and confounded her. It was far removed from the small hut she had lived in, which was not a bad thing. There were many benefits to living here. Hot running water whenever she wished. Soft furnishings, the bed was a large positive. It was very comfortable.
But there were times she missed the simplicity of her small hut. Her people, especially Amira. Her life had been straightforward and mostly uncomplicated. Rich’s people were difficult to understand. They said one thing but often meant something else. It had not been an easy transition, especially as Rich was so busy with his new position as Head-Councillor.
It was all worth it, though, to be with him.
This celebration of Christmas really did confuse her, though. The birth of a God she understood. That part made sense to her. But this whole Santa thing just puzzled her. Parents told children that a stranger dressed in red with a white beard entered their home and left gifts. She could not understand how that would not frighten a child, to know a stranger was in their home. But children seemed to love him.
Only he was not real. He was a lie.
“No, Santa isn’t real,” Rich said patiently. “He’s make-believe. Something children believe in. Magic.”
“But I am not a child and you are giving me gifts.”
“Yes, because it’s tradition and because I want to.”
“And why did we kill this tree to decorate it?”
Rich glanced up at the brightly-dressed Christmas tree. “Also, a tradition and something I remember from my childhood. I haven’t had a Christmas tree in years. Not since my mother died.” He shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to do for your first Christmas.”
“It is,” she reassured him, not wanting to seem ungrateful. Or to make him sad. He had looked so wishful as he’d spoken of his mother. “I just am not used to your traditions.”
He pointed at the gift she still held. “Open it.”
She slowly unwrapped the gift. There was something exciting about not knowing what was inside. When she opened it, she gasped with delight. “A new dagger!”
He smiled as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. “Easy now, don’t stab me with that thing, I made certain it was sharp.”
She drew back and ran her thumb lightly along the blade. “Perfect.” The helm was had a swirling design with bright red jewels embedded in it. She held it, loving the feel of it in her hand. Beautiful and practical. “I love it.”
“Most women want jewellery or perfume, but I figured neither of those things would interest you.”
She kissed him. “Thank you. But I do not have anything for you.”
He took the dagger from her hand, placing it on the coffee table. Then he drew her onto his lap. “You gave me the perfect gift already. You. My own Christmas miracle when I didn’t even know I believed in them.”
She ran her hand over his chest. “I do have one gift.” She leaned in and nipped at his lip. “It’s your turn to be in charge.”
He grinned. “Hell, yeah. Merry Christmas to me.”