Unchained

by Suzanne Halliday

  “Promise?” She laughed.

  He swatted her butt and pushed her into the bedroom. “March, lady, and get ready to uncage the beast when I get back.”

  Her laughter rang out, and she hurried to set the scene as he walked back to the living room, the phone already in his hand.

  WITH BOTH OF them more than a bit worse for wear after their Vegas getaway and last night antics, quiet was the order of the day.

  They ate breakfast in silence. A hangover did horrible things to the senses, making extraneous sounds plain torture.

  With a few hours to kill before they had to meet Sawyer at the airport, he indulged his wife with a shopping spree that nearly set fire to his credit card. She went nuts in every kid store along the way, buying the baby whatever he’d need for the next two years. And what she didn’t get for Daniel, she got for Dylan and Bella. The trunk of the big Town Car he hired was crammed with boxes and bags.

  And that was before he ushered her into every high-end store they had time for. Louboutin. Chanel. Versace. Victoria’s Secret. Dior.

  They ate at the Cheesecake Factory and people-watched in relative silence.

  He figured her quiet was due to the excesses of their weekend and didn’t worry too much about it. Had they talked and tried to work on their issues? No. But they’d rebooted their physical relationship. The high voltage lovemaking they’d indulged in was a reminder of all the things he was trying so hard to control. His sex drive. Her passion. And the very real possibility that, just like before, the nonstop nature of their intense couplings would inevitably lead to another pregnancy. And for him, that remained the ultimate deal breaker. She wasn’t built for making babies. End stop.

  It wasn’t until they were on board the jet and settling in for the short flight home that Drae started to feel uneasy.

  Examining his wife, he ticked off a few things of interest. She wasn’t fidgeting at all. In fact, she was so still and unmoving, he briefly wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

  And why did he have to wonder if she was awake or not? Because once they settled in the cabin, her sunglasses stayed on. It hadn’t seemed odd at the time, but it was starting to work on his nerves.

  Didn’t take a genius to realize her reserved behavior was more than a simple hangover. Hell. It was late afternoon, and he felt fine. She normally bounced back quickly after an excessive night.

  She’d joked about PMS’ing. Was that why she appeared out of sorts? Drae knew it wasn’t politically correct to harbor such thoughts. A smart guy was expected to be gentle and understanding when his woman dealt with cycle realities. But talk about it out loud? No fucking way. Unless he had a desire to have his balls torn off, even a shithead like him knew not to ever even remotely suggest she was anything other than her usual perfect self.

  Deciding that had to be what was causing her to withdraw, Drae took a deep breath and moved next to her on the loveseat.

  “Everything all right, honey?” he asked softly as he raised her hand to his mouth. Detecting no response whatsoever, he gently squeezed her fingers and suppressed a sigh when her hand remained limp in his grasp. “Would you like a soda?”

  His inner voice fell down laughing. A soda? Oh sure, ya’ dumb fuck. A soda is sure to get a reaction.

  “No thanks. I’m good,” she said in an empty sounding voice. When she took her hand back and gazed out the window, he started to worry.

  Okay. Strike one. Next?

  Daniel. Talk about the little guy. She was always eager to prattle on about their son.

  “Can’t wait to see Big D.” Jostling her with his shoulder, he kidded about how much a couple of days with his mom mom would cost. Commenting on the amount of stuff their kid had, he wondered aloud if babies just naturally led to excess.

  Nothing. What the hell, man? He could practically hear crickets in the deafening silence.

  Out of fucking nowhere, she blurted out, “I don’t think now’s a good time to think about another baby.”

  Where the hell had that comment come from? Drae swallowed hard. The way she said it felt more like an indictment than a statement and set off every alarm inside him.

  “Daniel is a handful,” she mumbled in a shaky-sounding monotone, “and with the agency ramping up to full speed, it’s probably not a good time.” She pushed the sunglasses up her nose, turned her head slightly, and gave him a brittle half-smile. “Don’t you agree?”

  Jesus. He felt cornered. And blindsided. Victoria balls-out saying no more kids shook Drae more than he thought possible.

  “Where is this coming from,” he asked as calmly as he could. He needed to understand her motivations because once he followed through with Carol, there’d be no turning back.

  Further conversation came to a screeching halt when Sawyer called through the intercom that they were ten minutes out from landing. Time to buckle up. Out of habit, he reached for her seat belt and strapped her in. He stayed next to her on the loveseat and buckled in. When he looked back her way, Drae swore he saw her brush a hand across a cheek to wipe away a tear.

  Now was not the time to get into a heavy discussion. He sighed deeply. What the fuck was it going to take for them to catch a goddamn break?

  Tori was numb. It was a defense mechanism because she didn’t know what else to do. So she shut down and fought for control. Anything to turn off the horrible images roaring around in her imagination.

  Carol.

  A cold chill crept up her spine for the thousandth time since she saw the name displayed on her husband’s phone.

  When he mentioned Daniel, that crushed some part of her. She desperately wanted another baby and was secretly pleased when her husband’s insistence they be condom-ready at all times evaporated under the onslaught of their recent lovemaking.

  But Carol changed all that. Tori wasn’t sure how or why; she just knew it to be so. Another baby? She couldn’t even think about something like that now.

  But saying the words out loud left a bitter taste in her mouth. She was afraid to consider for even a second what a betrayal by her husband would do to her sanity, so she threw up a roadblock and scurried to hide behind her shocking decision.

  She needed Alex and Meghan. No more fucking around. The minute she got home, Tori was going to break protocol and call. Her life was falling apart, and she needed Meghan’s calm strength and Alex’s paternal input.

  Now.

  Not in a couple of weeks.

  He had noted the time before the phone slid back into his pocket. Nine fifteen, East Coast time. That meant it was just after dinner in Arizona. The call came from Tori’s phone. The voicemail she left was unsettling. Her voice on the edge of tears, she apologized profusely for the intrusion. Finally, she begged Alex not to tell Draegyn she called and followed up with a second plea. Not for a return phone call. She wanted them to come home. Immediately. Her final words were choked with tears. “I need you.”

  Hoping the St. John marriage would self-correct proved a foolish move. Should he have intervened earlier? Most of the time, Tori was a whirling ball of chaos and Drae a close-mouthed sphinx. Not a lot of clues there and certainly not enough real information for him to feel confident sticking his nose in it.

  Alex let the debate swirl inside his head. He already knew he wouldn’t call her back. A phone chat wasn’t what Tori needed, plus she’d sounded rather adamant about not letting Drae know she called. His deliberation had to do with what to tell Meghan.

  She was well aware of how shrewdly he’d skirted around any mention of the St. John’s, and he had to admit she surprised him by not asking. He snorted and chuckled at the same time. Sometimes, it was hard to figure out if she was playing on his need to be the man or if she was truly allowing him to call every shot. Well, whichever it was, he thought, she did it brilliantly.

  Clearing the doorway into the suite’s bedroom, Alex stopped to take in the scene his godsend of a wife had set.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered. Hands at his waist, he was frozen in place
trying to soak it all in.

  Somehow, his naughty mate managed to transform the room into a bordello. A rocket-propelled surge of heated lust exploded in his core and melted all his nerve endings.

  MEGHAN WAS PRETTY pleased with how just a few embellishments changed the bedroom into a seduction. There was nothing like a credit card and a few hours to kill in a Pier 1 store when it came to going over the top.

  She knew she’d done well when her alpha husband turned up in the doorway and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw the scene she set. Sumptuous fabrics and lavishly appointed accessories covered every space. Brightly colored silk and velvet pillows, brass lanterns with flickering candles, fresh flowers, and red lace panels draped over the lamps gave the room a Parisian brothel vibe.

  She had so much fun creating her wicked vision that Meghan decided from here on out, she’d be amassing her own little trunk of goodies—Alex had his secret stash of toys and equipment, so why couldn’t she? Turning their bedroom sanctuary in the Villa into a Bedouin tent or a tropical paradise seemed so apropos for them.

  “You’ve been busy, I see,” he mumbled.

  “And you haven’t,” she teased with an arched brow when she saw he was still fully dressed.

  Boom. An innocent remark but a parade of serious emotions marched across her husband’s face. The phone call.

  Part of her wanted to ask. She’d noticed how deftly he skirted around any mention of the St. Johns when he laid out his information confession. But she’d held her tongue because Meghan also knew something else.

  Last year, when the anniversary of the attack that left her husband scarred for life and took the future away from her best friend came around, he’d had an episode so deeply visceral and powerful, their budding relationship nearly crashed and burned. She’d been thinking a lot about what Drae had said to her at the time. That if she took Alex on, it had to be with the full understanding that he was always going to suffer the emotional and physical aftermath of that horrible day. Loving her was his salvation, but that didn’t mean all those feelings and the inner agony he felt over the whole fucking war was going to magically go away.

  The anniversary came and went quietly this year. She didn’t bring it up or let him know she focused on him like a goddamn laser, but she had noticed he was especially clingy around the time. Alex was not the clingy type, but it’d been hard to miss all the ways he found to remain by her side during those few days when he was at his most vulnerable.

  And then there was the silent shadow looming over everything. Not the anniversary or Alex’s need for redemption. Not the St. John problem or finding a way to fix that shit. No. This particular pall had everything to do with whatever the hell her husband did when the military called him in.

  All of that was why he was out of whack. He was listing to one side, and she had heard him more than once groan and struggle in the morning when he tried to stand up. Tension had a way of starting a chain reaction, and it was up to her to keep him from having a setback.

  Now that she knew what she did about the crap swirling at home, she definitely had to get him in shape before they were sucked into that drama.

  He was struggling with whatever he knew—deciding how to tell her. But that would have to wait because she had work to do.

  Some time later, after chasing most of the tension from Alex’s big body, she went to work on his side. The one she called his warrior’s quilt—a patchwork of scars and damaged flesh she found beautiful in a fearsome way. Knowing what he survived, what he endured, she felt a lump of emotion clog her throat.

  Reaching for a bottle of essential oils she’d blended earlier, Meghan squirted some into her palm. In long, slow strokes, she rubbed the soothing, scented oil along his side. After a few moments, he let out a low, rumbling moan.

  When she was working on his shoulders trying to release his tension and soothe the muscles, sometimes it felt like she needed a damn jackhammer to get in there good. It wasn’t unusual for her fingers to plead for mercy. But when it came to the Major’s hips and lower back, she’d discovered a lighter touch worked wonders. Instead of digging in and searching out the knot and blockages, she stroked gently and used her hands to move the energy around.

  Breathing slow, deep, and steady, she gave him a calming rhythm to mimic. Before applying more oil, she raised her hands up and cupped them near her face, taking a long inhale so the oils became a part of her.

  She felt like a healer from a long line of women since the dawn of time that could channel the spirit and restore strength. Every fiber in her being focused on Alex. With each glide of her hands across his back and down his legs, she sent a healing vibe—her unique combination of white light mixed with love that was meant only for him.

  The tension left his body, and he relaxed into her touch. A little flutter in her belly almost diverted her attention, but she reasoned it was just some part of her recognizing some part of him. Her other half.

  The last thing she expected was for him to quickly rise up and sit on his butt. Startled, she searched his face and gave him her hand when he reached for it. There wasn’t going to be a happy ending like the one she imagined.

  She gave him every bit of her attention.

  Meghan’s hands on his body were the next best thing to heaven. She had an uncanny way of knowing where and how to touch him. Alex succumbed to her healing caress and let the emotions he’d been bottling up wash over him.

  This was new. The opening of the floodgates. She’d made this change happen by simply refusing to let either of them linger in the past or obsess over possibilities. Facing his demons wasn’t always easy, but she showed him the strength he didn’t know he had.

  Their time here had run out. Tori’s worrisome message was the start of them going back to reality. And that reality was a shit-ton more complicated than he let on.

  Heat gathered in his chest and worked its way into his gut. A tremor of awareness like none he’d ever felt before shot up his spine into his head. Clarity, when it came, could be blinding.

  They were partners in life. A team. Someday, god willing, they’d start a family. She brought light to his darkness, and a sense of contentment he hadn’t known was possible. He wasn’t going to relax completely or find some sense in any of this until she was on his lap, whispering in his ear and telling him everything was going to be okay.

  When he sat up, it felt like one of those universal energies she went on about had lifted him upright and cleared the cobwebs from his mind. Reaching for the hand of his beloved, Alex looked at her and for a second became lost in her bewitching eyes.

  Then the words came, and he let them tumble out without filters.

  “It was Tori who called. She’s in trouble and needs us. I’m petrified what it means. You know I’ll have to kill Drae if he’s done anything stupid.” He looked away, unable to meet her eyes when he thought about what Drae betraying Tori would mean for them all.

  Instead of displeasure or censure from Meghan, she proved what a perfect mate she was and shared something deeply personal about the St. John situation.

  “I knew before the wedding something was wrong. And I don’t think it’s anything Draegyn may or may not have done.”

  Really? He brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss.

  “Baby,” she cooed as she touched the side of his face with her fingers. “I’ve been beating myself up for weeks. Even without knowing what was going on, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I should have done more before we left to straighten her out.”

  “Why do you think it’s her?”

  She shrugged. Pure Meghan. He knew what the gesture meant. Somewhere along the way, his empathic wife had picked up on a vibe or had an intuitive hunch.

  “She was a physical mess after Daniel was born. It happens, y’know?”

  Fuck yeah, he knew. Poor Tori. She’d had a rough time of it.

  “Anyway, I sort of sensed how out of balance she was, but well, ugh, I was wrapped up in the wedding and b
eing the bride-to-be.”

  He was quick to assure her. “You’re not to blame for anyone else’s problems.”

  “Oh, my god.” She chuckled. “Do you hear yourself?”

  He smirked. She had a point. For him to tell anyone they weren’t responsible for others was eye-rolling gold.

  “So what? You think a few yoga sessions and some crystals are going to make everything okay again?”

  She chuffed a groan mixed with a chuckle. “Hell no. If only, right? Look,” she said, “I’m not a doctor, but I think what she needs is a better one than who she’s currently seeing. Hopefully, Drae hasn’t done anything we can’t repair, and as far as Tori goes, I’m already researching holistic practitioners specializing in postpartum care.”

  Of course she was. He should have known. Meghan had a spiritual connection with Lacey and Victoria. Enforcing a contact-free honeymoon only cut off their daily means of chitchat but that didn’t mean they weren’t still communicating on another level.

  “There’s more,” he admitted gravely.

  “I know. It’s okay, Alex. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  Relief washed over him.

  “But in the meantime, may I ask you a question?”

  He did a double take of her face at the unusual request. Meghan didn’t ask for permission. It was one of her lines in the sand. Early on, he’d made it clear she wasn’t to leave their bed in the morning until he said she could. After trampling all over his alpha edict, she’d ended up with his handprint on her bottom. Lesson learned. But she found a clever way around asking. Instead of a plea, she simply told him why there’d be a change in routine. In a way, she was still asking permission, but he let her think that by telling him in advance, she’d found a way to manage his expectations without being too yielding.

  It was her submissive tone and seeking his consent that got his attention.

  He pulled her to stand between his legs and took hold of her face. “You may ask me anything, my love.”