Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1)

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Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) Page 26

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  I shut my eyes briefly to relish the moment, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Yes, how could I forget, my hot sensuous, wild, and sexy Neanderthal?”

  He begins to crawl across the bed like a cougar that has finally found his mate.

  “Don’t. Get the thought out of your head. I need to pack,” I say and giggle.

  He sits back on his feet and pouts, God, even when he’s sulking he’s breathtaking.

  I retrieve my luggage and clothes and begin to pack, and my mouth drops open when I hear Michael speaking in Cantonese, probably talking to someone in Hong Kong. The man never ceases to amaze me. He is a man of many talents.

  I finish packing and crawl back into bed, snuggling my back up against his chest. The mattress feels warm and soft beneath me, but lying against Michael’s bare skin is much more serene. He disconnects the call and envelops me with his body. I feel his heat seep through my flesh, making me all warm and cozy, and I fall asleep in his arms.

  ***

  I jolt from a piercing buzzing in my ear. My hand smacks around my nightstand, searching for my phone, and it’s nowhere to be found. Well, it may help if I open my eyes.

  The ringing stops, and I hear Michael. “Hey, Trent.”

  I yawn and, eyes wide open now, stretching against the aches and pains. I must have used every muscle in my body last night, and now I’m paying for the joy. Michael sure knows his way around. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would explore every inch of me. I feel the heat rising over my cheeks just thinking about it.

  He moves towards the dresser and rest against it. I listen to the one-sided conversation. His expression is intense, his eyes cold and hard.

  “When . . . . How many times . . . . Put extra security on her flight . . . . She’s leaving in a few hours . . . .Okay, I’ll speak to you soon.” He ends the call and shoves the phone in his pocket.

  “Don’t tell me, from the expression one your face this phone call had something to do with the psycho.”

  He gives me a curt nod. “Yes,” he says with an angry tone, and his eyes enraged.

  “Are you going to tell me?” I sit up, facing him. Anxiety fills the air as he paces around the room.

  “So, what happened?” I ask again, waiting impatiently.

  He stops and stands in front of me. He frowns and says, “He called several times yesterday while we were at Sands Point and in the middle of the night.” He stares into my eyes, and there is a moment of silence.

  “Go on,” I say as I feel my heart climbing into my throat.

  He sits on the bed. “I can’t remember word for word, but he said, ‘The time is approaching, coming closer and closer for the day we meet, the day you become my wife, my everything, forever and ever. You are my truelove, my true fantasy and soon to be my baby doll. I hope you’re wearing the ring I left you.’”

  I pale as the deep hollowness in my chest expands, my anger intensifying. The man is a pure mental case.

  “Go on, I know there’s more,” I ask with ease; meanwhile, my stomach is in knots.

  “The other calls . . . were about some house he’s preparing and,” There’s a long pause. I know he’s holding back.

  “Finish,” I say my voice firm.

  Michael rubs his face and runs his fingers through his hair. “He has a special belt for you and ropes sitting by the bedside table.”

  I go slack. The sick bastard. Did Danny tell someone? Did he have a close friend I knew nothing about? Another existence? Anxiety begins to creep over me as my heart rate starts to increase at a rapid speed, deafened by the blood that’s pounding through my ears in a frenzied rush.

  “Michael, no one knows anything about the belts or the ropes Danny kept by the bedside table.” I swallow hard and bury myself into his skin. “Who is it, Michael? Who would know so much about me, about Danny, and why torment me with it?”

  I wrap myself around his rigid muscles, sensing the anger surfacing and his heart racing. “Ariana, I wish I could find the bastard so I could kill him,” he explodes, and the atmosphere around us turns arctic.

  “Listen, Trent has extra security on your flight. You won’t even know they’re there.”

  “There’s more than one going?” I ask.

  “Yes, it’s a precaution. Will Blake and the rest of the crew be going along?”

  “Yes. We’ll be staying in three-bedroom suites.”

  “Good to hear and I hope that while you’re gone, we can track down the lowlife. He has to slip. They all do. Trent has a strong lead, but he’s not divulging the information to us until he’s sure. He also has questions about your housekeeper.”

  “What about my housekeeper? I thought he had already questioned her.”

  Michael shakes his head. “He tried to get in contact with her, but no luck. What is her name again?”

  “Her name is Melinda Candles.”

  “Does she have complete access to your place?”

  “No, she can only come in when I’m here, but she’s been gone for the past three weeks. So, that’s probably why Trent never got a hold of her. She’ll be back in November. Family issues, she claims.”

  “Who’s been cleaning your home?” He lifts his right eyebrow up.

  “Joanne’s housekeeper. I see that look on your face. It’s not Lisa. I’ve known her for two years, and she has three kids. I also know it can’t be Melinda. She and I have had lunch a few times. She is a wonderful and caring woman. She works two jobs and has had a hard life. They have nothing to do with this.”

  “I’ll pass the information to Trent,” he says and kisses me.

  “There is one more thing. Trent viewed the surveillance tapes from your studio. A tall person with a husky built dressed in a custodial uniform was in the building just thirty minutes before you arrived at your office. He’s the one who placed the gift box holding the doll on your desk and took off. The description fits the person who dropped off the chocolates.”

  I gasp. “How did he get in? Our cleaning staff comes in the evenings, not in the mornings.”

  “That’s what security told Trent, but apparently he has a key to the back entrance.”

  “This is a nightmare.” I rub my hands over my arms. This is like watching some horror flick, and I’m the main character.

  Michael pulls me against him. He gently caresses me and says, “Please don’t worry. Trent placed extra security at the studio. All employees and visitors entering or leaving the building will be checked for ID, and matched on their database. If they question why, they will be informed there was a break-in.

  “Trent spoke with your boss a few days ago. I think this is the reason he’s sending you off on all these trips.”

  I blow out a breath. “So that explains the mass of sudden expeditions. I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me himself.”

  “Trent made him swear not to discuss it with you or anyone else and to keep the information under lock and key.”

  “I can’t believe all the drama and complications I’ve caused everyone.” I pull away from his arms and pace around, agitated and furious.

  “Ariana, stop talking nonsense. You haven’t done anything wrong. That demented fuck haunting you is at fault,” he says furiously.

  “How can you sit there and say that, Michael. The guy is after me, and I’m the cause of this mess happening at work, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Trent doesn’t have his whole staff working round the clock to find him, when I’m sure he has other cases he needs to work on. Of course, I’m the blame,” I say, well not entirely, but it sure as hell feels that way.

  “Please stop blaming yourself, Ariana,” he pleads and wraps his arms around me, holding me close to his naked body.

  I shake my head and kiss his chest. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Let’s get a shower and get ready to leave,” I order.

  “Now you’re talking,” Michael says with a boyish smile, looking all sexy with his hair mussed up.

  Chapter 26

  The Chase
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br />   Thanksgiving is just around the corner and we’re just minutes away from home, arriving from Australia. The trip, as always, has been rewarding. The exposition of these majestic hotels went smoothly.

  We made our first stop at Rayavadee Hotel located in Krabi, Thailand, adjacent to the towering limestone cliffs and islands joined by the crystal-clear waters of the Andaman Sea.

  The second stop was Capella Singapore, a luxury resort situated on Sentosa Island that sits among thirty acres of rolling hills where a splendid serenity awaits you.

  Our final destination was Australia. We embarked on a small charter plane to Hayman Resort, a luxurious, majestic private island settled amidst a tropical paradise in the breathtaking Great Barrier Reef. The resort offers serenity, seclusion, pristine beauty, and luxury.

  Throughout my trip, Michael and I communicated every day by way of FaceTime or cell phone. I miss that overbearing, protective, bulldozer.

  There is still no trace of the psycho, and I’m dreading to hear what he’s been up to. Before I left, Michael mentioned Trent had a strong lead. Unfortunately, Trent isn’t about to disclose any information and won’t anytime soon. Nonetheless, I must keep my faith. I just wish they would catch him so I can live in peace once again.

  I haven’t been the same since this obsessed psychopath entered my life. In spite of that, Blake strived several times to ease my anxiety, tickling me, tossing me over his shoulder, making silly faces and even took me dancing. However, nothing topped this move when Blake caught me by surprise and threw me in the pool, clothes and all. Of course, I was not going to plunge into the depths alone. I managed to take hold of his shirt and pulled him in for a swim. That had to be the most I laughed. Jackie, Mandy, and Willie decided to join in. It was fun and our last night at the Hayman Resort.

  “This is the captain speaking, we are about to land in less than fifteen minutes. Please fasten your seat belts. Flight crew, prepare for landing.”

  A swarm of butterfly’s bursts into my stomach, and my adrenalin and eagerness boost into overdrive. I’m tingling all over, craving Michael’s touch. “Paradise” by Sade echoes through my headset.

  I close my eyes, and with a smile on my face, I picture Michael in my arms, kissing those smooth, tender lips. I remember Michael’s promise to me that he will be waiting for me at the airport. I remove the headset and wiggle in my seat with anticipation, too anxious to sit still.

  “Finally, Ariana, we’re home,” Blake sings out and offers his hand. I take it, and I sense his force and energy flow through me.

  What would I have done without him? He befriended me the moment I stepped into my first new job. He was there for strength and moral support when I had to identify Danny’s body. He sat and listened to my fears of intimacy with men and the raw trauma with Danny and during my brief break up with Michael. Now he’s my human shield, protecting me along with Michael and his brothers from my psychotic stalker.

  “I bet you’re looking forward to seeing Francis,” I say, excitement bursting through.

  His eyes light up like the Eiffel tower. “I sure missed him. I don’t think we’ve ever been apart this long.”

  “Is he picking you up at the airport?” I ask.

  “No. Since we wouldn’t be landing until one or two in the morning, I told him I’ll be getting a ride with Jackie.”

  “I hope Sean doesn’t send us out again for a while. The holidays are already approaching. Thanksgiving is less than a week away.”

  “I’m with you.”

  We collect our bags and go through customs. I kiss Blake and the others good-bye and head for my man, who’s pacing like a wild cat, threading his hands through his hair. He hasn’t seen me yet.

  I gape at the white T-shirt accenting his broad, muscular chest, covered in his bad-boy leather jacket. I bite my lower lip when my eyes shift to his tight-fitting black jeans. Yummy. The poor guy looks restless. I can’t stand it anymore. I pull my handbag over my shoulder; haul my carry-on case from the floor and dart toward him like a cougar running toward her mate.

  As I get closer, I call out his name. He turns his face full of surprise, shock, and elation. I release the carry-on, drop my bag and jump him, wrapping my legs and arms around him like a snake entwined around a tree. He sways, almost losing his balance.

  He chuckles. “Hold on, sweet thing. You don’t want us to fall.” He places me down, looking at me with voracious eyes, and hauls me back against his solid chest, kissing me hard.

  Our surroundings blur into a vapor of mist, as I’m lost in the sensation of pleasure, a place I longed for, missed, somewhere safe and from harm’s way.

  He pulls us apart to take one more look at me, breathing erratic. “I’ve missed you so damn much, little wildcat,” he says sounding seductive, and I’m pulled into his arms with undying urgency.

  I’m pressed harder and deeper against his chest, feeling the harsh throbbing beats of his heart, his sweet scent tantalizing all my senses. My heart is doing flip-flops, pounding away, keeping up with his beating heart.

  I pour my mind, body, and soul into my kiss, threading my fingers viciously through his luscious, thick, black hair with gentle pulls. He moans, which increases my breathing and want for this man.

  I get a tap on my shoulder. I pull away, and Michael shoves me behind him, holding me with a protective, secure grip when he faces a man who was standing behind me. “Can I help you?” He rasps out with harshness.

  I peek over, recognizing the gentleman who helped me with my luggage. I forgot all about him. “Michael, it’s okay.” I move from behind him. “I’m sorry, sir,” I say, mortified over our rambunctiousness, making out like two teenagers in the middle of the airport.

  “No problem, Miss DiMarco,” he says shyly.

  The moment I walked into the baggage claim area the young man rushed over to assist me with my bags. I went to offer him money, but he refused and asked if I could sign an autograph for him. Of course, I was happy to do it.

  “Are you ready for your bags?” He looks at me then at Michael, shuffling his feet side-to-side looking nervous

  “Yes, of course, please follow me.” Michael gestures toward the glass doors, sounding more relax and polite.

  We walk outside, and I’m stunned. “Wow, I don’t recall hearing anything about snow,” I say with a shiver, reminding me my coat is packed in the luggage. I glance over my attire, satisfied with my warm, pink turtleneck sweater and jeans that are tucked in my boots.

  “Ah, sugar, you’re cold.” He takes his leather jacket off. “Put this on,” he insists.

  “I’m fine, Michael.” I inhale the frigid air, taking a few of the alabaster flakes into my mouth, which immediately melt. I fold his jacket over my arm. I spin once, admiring the view of the white crystals and the several inches of snow already packed beneath my feet. “I love the snow.” I exhale out with glee.

  Michael places his hand over my shoulder, penetrating me with his heat. His eyes lock onto mine, making my heart melt into a pool of vanilla ice cream. “And I can’t wait to play in it with you.”

  “Aw, Michael.” I kiss him, and this beautiful snowflake flutters over us, gently landing above his lip. I tiptoe and glide my tongue over the flake as it liquefies in my mouth. “Snowflake,” I murmur and nip at his chin. His breath hitches and he flashes me a dangerous grin.

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  I laugh and change the subject. “Is Joe here?” I ask, searching for his driver.

  “No, I wanted you all to myself.” And he smacks my backside, sending an erotic sensation to my core.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mr. Grayson. It’s been a long nineteen days,” I tease, caressing his shapely, firm bottom.

  “Wait until I get you home, Ariana.” I squeal as I’m swept up into his arms and he spins me around in the parking lot.

  He gently eases me down, and for that one moment, the world fades except for Michael and the delicate flurries cascading over us li
ke diamonds.

  “I’ve missed you, and I miss this,” he whispers in my ear, and his fingers dance erotically over my sex.

  I let out a screech. “Stop that! We are in a public place." Thank God, the baggage handler is looking the other way. I pray no one else caught that moment if so I hope I won’t see it on YouTube.

  “And I’m going to kiss every inch of you,” he says with a wicked grin.

  I gasp, my breath caught in my lungs, and my knees go weak. Thank God my arms are wrapped around his neck or I would have collapsed on the glittering snow from the image that flashed before me.

  “Breathe, Ariana,” he whispers with an erotic tone, making me mewl into his chest. The man is toxic. There is no other way to explain this foreign substance running through my blood. He takes my hand in his and we walk towards the car.

  “You are evil, Mr. Grayson, damn straight evil,” I retort, catching my breath and easing the fast-beating heart in my chest.

  “You remember that, Miss DiMarco. I hope you slept well on the plane because we have almost three weeks of making up to do.”

  We reach the car, and the gentleman places my luggage in the back of Michael’s white Lexus SUV. Again, I have forgotten about this poor man, and my face turns red. “Thank you so much for all your help,” I say with genuine gratitude.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. DiMarco,” he says and rushes off towards the warm, inviting airport.

  I stare at Michael’s car. I shake my head. “I see you have a love for Lexus cars,” I say.

  “They’re beautiful cars, safe and last. I upgrade every other year from a good friend who owns a Lexus dealer ship in Long Island City. I donate my cars to families that need them. As for the sports cars, I sell them and give the money to charities.”

  “You’re such a philanthropist. That’s one of the many things I love about you.” I reach up and kiss him on his cool, moist lips.

  “I don’t ever remember telling you anything about my altruism,” he says.

  “Oh, Michael, you’re not a big secret to the world.” I point my finger to his chest. “I know all about your donations and that you’re on the board of directors for the battered women and children’s shelter in Texas. You are a generous man.”

 

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