Anything He Wants 3: Love and War

by Sara Fawkes

  “What’s going on here?”

  3

  I breathed a sigh of relief at Jeremiah's familiar voice, but the look on his face when I turned wasn't the least bit comforting. I tried to move toward him, but Lucas gripped my hand tight, pulling me up short.

  “Brother,” his voice boomed, unnaturally loud now that the band had concluded their song. “Fancy meeting you here. Care to join me and my lovely companion for a drink?”

  I tried again to wrench my hand from his grip, but Lucas held fast. Turning an apologetic gaze to Jeremiah, I was disappointed by the accusatory look I received in return. Why is this suddenly my fault? I thought, indignation bubbling up. You left me to fend for myself!

  The confrontation attracted the attention from nearby attendees. Their prying eyes watched the drama unfold, but not a one moved a muscle to intervene...leaving me stuck smack in the middle. The two men seemed more intent on each than myself although neither allowed me my freedom. Lucas still held my hand, and Jeremiah blocked my avenue of escape.

  Together like this, I found it much easier to tell the two brothers apart, and I couldn't believe I'd mistaken one for the other. Jeremiah looked a caged bull, hunched over and ready to charge; his impassive mask had slipped, his eyes now ablaze. In stark contrast, the leaner and slightly shorter Lucas sat back on his heels, a patronizing smirk on his face. There was a malicious twinkle in his eyes; he was obviously well versed in taunting his younger brother.

  “What are you doing here?” Jeremiah all but growled, his eyes darting between his brother's face and our still-entwined hands.

  “Perhaps I wanted to help the less fortunate, or to visit with my long lost brother. After all, our last meeting was so dramatic.”

  “You stole thirty million dollars!”

  Lucas waved a hand in the air. “So I have been told,” he remarked blithely, then looked at me. “Come my dear, drinks are on me.”

  He pulled me forward a resistant step, and then Jeremiah stepped in the way, blocking his brother's escape. “I could have you arrested in two minutes,” his low voice rumbled, faint enough that only those close by could hear the words. “Even in France they wouldn't hesitate to extradite you, Loki.”

  “Ah, little brother has been checking up on me!” Lucas smirked and opened his arms wide, but there was a mocking gleam to his eyes. “You do miss me.”

  Following the conversation between the two siblings was difficult, causing more frustration to well up inside me. Both men seemed to have forgotten about me, and whatever problems lay between them were playing out in front of those around us. Along the edge of the dance floor I saw Anya watching us, a triumphant smile on her hard face, and wondered if she had been the one to point my location in Lucas’ arms out to my boss.

  Beside me, Jeremiah seemed to grow bigger, his expression darkening. “If you weren't my brother...”

  “You'd what? Beat me to a pulp? Ruin my life?” The taunt in his voice was clear, and loud enough to be heard by those watching. “Too late, brother, someone beat you to it. Oh wait, no, that was you.”

  Jeremiah took a small step forward, and his brother held his ground. “Loki...”

  “Enough!”

  My voice cracked like a whip, the word piercing the tension. Both men started, then turned their furious stares on me. I was too angry myself to back down, however, and looked first at Lucas, raising my captured hand to almost eye level. “Let. Go.”

  There was a barely perceptible relaxing of his grip, and I snatched my hand back, stepping away. Jeremiah reached for my arm and I sidestepped him as well, much to his surprise. “Don't,” I said, glaring at him.

  He scowled back, clearly disliking my sudden defiance. “Ms. Delacourt,” he started but I shook my head, meeting his angry expression with my own.

  “You left me to fend for myself, and that's exactly what I intend to do.” I spared a glance for Lucas, who was watching me with amusement, then back to Jeremiah. “It seems you two have some things to discuss, so I'll leave you alone.”

  My boss clearly didn't approve of my sudden independence, but right then I couldn't have cared less. I felt the weight of several onlookers' gazes, but stiffened my spine and walked away. The stupefied looks of the two men followed my exit; I could feel their gazes burning holes into my back. Unfortunately, I was not at all in the mood to appreciate the dubious victory I’d no doubt pay for later.

  Few women at the function wore yellow dresses; so it didn't take me long to locate Cherise. She looked surprised at my presence but before she could greet me I spoke up. “I want to help you.”

  David stood beside her, and he squinted at me. “Lucy?” he said in surprise, and I realized Cherise hadn't told him yet about seeing me.

  “Tell me everything you can about your operation.” Fire burned through my veins; I hadn't felt this alive in years. “I'm going to get you your funding.”

  *

  When at college, one of my professors once mentioned in passing that I’d make a good lobbyist. Though never my goal, I recognized the accuracy of his observation. I found taking up the burdens and issues of others easier than dealing with my own; I never had problems approaching strangers on another’s behalf. Years had passed since I'd last done anything like this, but my frustration needed an outlet and I threw myself into campaigning for my friends.

  Over the next hour I charmed and cajoled my way through the crowds, translating when necessary and doing everything I could to help them. The process was surprisingly simple – the very nature of the event had already primed the attendees to write checks, and I had only to convince them why a little clinic in Borneo deserved their largesse. I dredged up every rusty social skill I'd ever learned, and flitted through the assembled group, sending them to David and Cherise before moving on to the next possible donor. Although I’d always been one more comfortable as a wallflower than a social butterfly, I threw all caution to the wind and somehow managed to make people listen to me.

  I caught glimpses of Jeremiah through the crowd, and could feel the weight of his gaze, but I ignored him as best I could. Easier said than done - even from a distance the man had the uncanny ability to throw me off balance. Still, I continued my crusade, and he didn't approach, giving me space – for which I was grateful. Neither Lucas nor Anya made another appearance either, which also pleased me.

  After an hour of moving from group to group, Cherise approached me and pulled me to the side. Grinning from ear to ear, her body all but vibrating with excitement, she said, “I don't believe it, but we've made nearly one hundred thousand so far!”

  My mouth dropped open, and I had to stop myself from giving her a big hug. “Will that be enough to last you guys a while?”

  “Enough?” She looked incredulous. “We could live several years with this at our current location – and not charge the locals a dime. Oh, thank you!” Cherise didn't seem to care about decorum, either, because she threw her arms around me in a quick but fierce hug. “You're incredible!”

  “I would have to agree with that assessment.”

  Swallowing, I turned to see Jeremiah standing behind me, regarding us with a curious expression. He only had eyes for me, and when Cherise released me from her hug he held out a hand. “May I have the honor of a dance?”

  My mouth worked silently, and I glanced at Cherise. Her grin had a knowing look about it, and when I hesitated she all but pushed me into my boss's arms. “The man asked you to dance,” she said, eyes twinkling. “I think we can handle it from here.”

  No longer having an excuse, I stared at Jeremiah's offered hand. He had requested, not demanded, and he seemed content to wait me out. Looking into his green eyes, I realized I'd forgiven him some time ago for abandoning me, but I didn't feel like he should get off lightly. “You won't leave me alone on the dance floor, will you?” I teased, taking his hand.

  Rather than the annoyance I feared I'd see, Jeremiah seemed almost amused by my question. “I promise not to let you out of my sight for t
he rest of the evening.”

  A promise in his tone sent chills across my skin as he led me to the center of the room. His touch was light as he gathered me into his arms on the dance floor, a stark contrast to his brother's earlier rigid grip. “I apologize for my conduct tonight,” he murmured.

  My eyebrows shot up. He apologized? To me? “Apology accepted,” I replied, then let out a quick breath. “Your family is a bit dysfunctional I see?”

  A wry smile tipped one corner of his mouth but he didn't reply to the question. “You two were talking earlier,” he said instead, the question in his voice.

  “He answered some of my questions about you.” When he tensed, I hurried to explain. “He said your father essentially forced you to take over the company. Is that true?”

  “Essentially,” he finally said after a long pause, but didn't elaborate.

  “Celeste said you used to be an Army Ranger,” I said after another moment of silence. His lips thinned, but I persisted. “What was it like?”

  “Best thing I've ever done with my life.” He slipped into silence again, but I could tell that he was thinking. “Originally, the military was meant only as a way to get away from my family, specifically my father. Once I got in, though, I loved every aspect about it. I would have gone career if...”

  If the choice hadn't been stolen away from you. As bitter as the argument had been between the two brothers earlier, I knew Lucas told the truth. Jeremiah's own nobility had forced him to leave behind a life he loved to save his family's company and all the lives of those connected to it. I leaned forward and laid my head on his shoulder; he stiffened in my arms, and I wondered briefly if I'd be pushed away, then his body relaxed and he pulled me closer. He smelled divine, like chocolate and cherries; the skin of his neck was close enough that I only had to turn my head to see if he tasted as good as he smelled...

  Forcibly reminding myself that I was in a room full of people, several of whom probably watched us, I lifted my head off his shoulder but didn't back away. Jeremiah must have somehow read my intentions; he pressed against me, a small bump poking my belly. A dull ache filled my belly, body tingling from my heels to fingertips, and I swallowed a small sigh. His reaction to me acted as a drug all by itself, a powerful aphrodisiac that made me want to pull him someplace private to do naughty things. I saw the same desire reflected in his eyes as our gazes locked; his grip on my lower back tightened, pulling me in closer to rub against the hard shaft, and I felt a rush of heat between my thighs.

  Someone tapped a microphone, then a familiar French voice came over the speakers. “We would like to take the opportunity to thank some members of our audience for their contributions tonight.”

  “I think they mean you,” I murmured. There were definitely eyes on us now as the band ended the song, but Jeremiah didn't release me for several more seconds. Finally he stepped away but didn't let go, raising my hand to his lips.

  I swallowed, heart skipping a beat. Celeste had told me that the press and general public believed he only took his assistants as platonic companions, but it would be hard to convince any onlookers of that tonight. Heck, I was getting confused, too many mixed signals bouncing around my head. One day at a time, I thought as he released my hand and headed to the front of the gathering crowd. This could all end in an instant, and I'd be back in a crappy Jersey apartment.

  Even with as much power as he wielded in our relationship, both business and personal, I knew I could walk away at any moment myself. While perhaps not a fair trade, the option gave me some stable ground in my suddenly topsy-turvy life, but the thought made my heart ache. Jeremiah wasn’t the type to play games, but he was difficult to read sometimes.

  “You're thinking too hard, my sweet.”

  I started, body tensing at Lucas's voice only inches from my ear. “Go away,” I muttered, not taking my eyes off Jeremiah. He continued moving toward Gaspard, who began giving an introductory speech in French, and I was nervous what Jeremiah would do if he saw Lucas beside me.

  “All in good time. I just thought it rude to leave without bidding farewell to such a beautiful lady.”

  I snorted in disbelief. “Go bother Anya, I’m sure she’s used to it by now,” I snapped, careful to keep my voice low, and heard a low chuckle in return. Most of the guests were ignoring us, for which I was grateful. “If you want to get back at your brother,” I hissed in a low voice, “leave me out of it.”

  “Oh, but it's so much more fun this way.”

  Fingers grazed my hip, and I immediately lashed out, kicking backwards with my heel, and grazing a shin. The hand quickly disappeared, and I had a moment of triumph until I heard him chuckle again.

  Jeremiah had taken the stage by then, and I prayed he wouldn't look this way. “You're going to get me in trouble,” I said.

  “Oh, you'll probably enjoy it,” Lucas all but purred, and I shot him a dark look. A self-satisfied smirk sat on his lips as he regarded me with unabashed interest. I rolled my eyes, determined to ignore him, and turned back to the stage...only to have Jeremiah's intense gaze rivet me in place. Oh crap.

  “Oh dear, looks like he's spotted our little tête-à-tête.” Fingers brushed the hair back from my neck, and I flinched sideways. “I wonder what's going through his mind right now.”

  Judging by the look on his face, my boss and erstwhile lover was not amused, and I found myself in a quandary. My hand curled into a fist but I knew doing anything at this point would only bring me unwanted attention, and further amuse the snake at my shoulder. Jeremiah continued to glare in our direction, and Lucas, while no longer touching me, seemed determined to stand as close as he could manage. I could only guess what was going through Jeremiah’s mind.

  Up on stage, Gaspard came partially to the rescue. Noticing his guest's inattention and my current situation, the Frenchman clapped an arm across the billionaire's shoulders and managed to distract Jeremiah briefly. I breathed a sigh of relief, one weight momentarily lifted. The two men shook hands for the cameras, signaling the end of the segment.

  “Ah, there's my cue to exit.” Lucas leaned in close, chest brushing my shoulders, and planted a quick kiss on my cheek. I jerked away but knew from the cloud covering Jeremiah's face that he'd seen. “Au revoir, chéri,” Lucas murmured before disappearing, leaving me to face the advancing bull all by myself. It was useless to try and plead my case, so I stayed silent as Jeremiah came up beside me.

  “Let's go.”

  His low tone brooked no argument; his hand on my lower back steered me effortlessly through the crowd. I turned back to see Gaspard already held the audience's attention; few bothered watching our escape, for which gratified me. Our exit from the large hall gave me the relief I’d been craving. I no longer had to worry whether I would trip or otherwise make a fool of myself in front of a crowd. The earlier euphoria from helping Cherise and David had worn off, and I felt exhaustion nipping at the edges of my consciousness.

  Jeremiah fixed his flinty gaze fixed on the doors leading out of the building, and I had the impression he deliberately ignored me. That made me nervous, as I didn't know what that ultimately meant. The ease we’d shared while dancing had vanished, so I stayed quiet, vowing to email my goodbye and best regards to my friends as soon as I had the chance.

  The limo stood waiting outside the main exit. We dodged the few remaining paparazzi, and climbed inside the dark vehicle, the driver closing the door behind us. I took the edge of the bench seats on one side of the vehicle across from Jeremiah as we pulled out, heading back to the hotel. I watched nervously as he shut the dark glass partition between us and the driver.

  I glanced toward the shrouded front of the long car, and in my moment of inattention he moved, pushing me suddenly back onto the long bench. Squeaking in surprise, I clamped my lips tight as he towered over me, one hand on my right shoulder keeping me pressed against the leather seat. His eyes trailed down my torso, then up to my face, and I swallowed at the fire I saw in his eyes.

  “
Open your legs to me.”

  My lips parted in shock. Breathing became difficult as he skimmed his free hand down the side of my body, running his palm along the thin material. The dress parted along the high slit and his fingers slid beneath, stroking my inner thigh.

  “About your brother,” I said in a shaky voice, sudden nervousness making me desperate to explain myself, “nothing happened, I thought he was you and...”

  “No.”

  I fell silent at the word. Jeremiah paused, body tense. “I don’t want to hear about my brother again tonight. Please,” he added, the word ground out. When I nodded my understanding he relaxed a hair. “Now, where were we?”

  His palm slid between my knees, prying them apart in increments as he pushed his way up my leg. My breath caught, belly tightening, as his fingers tugged at the garter strap along my thigh, smoothing beneath it to the belt around my hips. My legs pressed together involuntarily, and his hand stopped. “Open your legs.”