Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  She turned in his arms and went into survival mode. She smiled up at him. “You don’t know me well enough yet, Seth. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me?”

  Seth wasn’t so easily fooled. “Ori, I know you love Maceo; why else do you think I tried to kill you? I knew you’d never want me.”

  She lowered her head but looked up through her eyelashes at him. “Like I said,” she said in a soft whisper, “you don’t know me as well as you should.”

  She stood on her toes and nuzzled his nose briefly before brushing her lips against his. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, you’re right. This doesn’t have to be scary. It could be pleasurable …”

  Please, please fall for it, please … Ori knew she would do anything to stay alive, even if it meant having sex with this monster; she’d done it before and survived, after all.

  Seth, his expression blank, stared down at her, then cupped her breasts in his hands. “If you’re lying to me, Orianthi, I will gut you like a pig.”

  “Try me,” she whispered. Seth gave a growl and tumbled her to the floor, tugging at her underwear. Ori slammed hard against the marble but felt the tie binding her hands give. Her still-healing abdominal muscles screamed with pain, but she played her part well, moaning sensually, kissing Seth. It wasn’t until she felt his cock nudge at her sex that she wanted to cry, but she shoved the pain away as he entered her and began to fuck her. Ori screamed her encouragement at him, and Seth seemed to respond, grinning nastily.

  “I’m still going to kill you, pretty girl,” he grunted. Ori had no fear left, even at his words, his threats. She felt her hands free themselves as Seth came and she winced at the feeling of his semen shooting into her.

  God, I’m sorry, Maceo, I’m so sorry …

  At the moment of Seth’s orgasm, when he was at his most vulnerable, when his eyes were closed, Ori made her move. She whipped his tie around his throat and, kicking him out of her, she braced herself against his chest as she throttled him, using her body weight to tighten the cord. Seth struggled, roaring, and Ori didn’t know if she could hang on but her anger, her fear, her love for Maceo and the desire to live for him, made her strong. She pulled and pulled, using everything inside her until she felt him weaken. She didn’t let up, knowing he could be faking it, until his entire body went slack. She kept pulling even when he collapsed on top of her, his eyes bulging, his tongue protruding from his mouth.

  Then, finally satisfied he was dead, Ori kicked him off of her and scrambled to pull her underwear on. Running through the house, she began to sob, not for herself but for everyone who had died because of that monster. Poor Alex … Viola … Netta …

  “Ori!’

  Maceo’s voice echoed through the empty house, and Ori stumbled towards the sound of his voice. “Maceo …”

  “Ori!’

  She could hear sirens now, so close to safety, so close to love. Then she heard Seth’s roar and knew—she hadn’t killed him, and now he was coming for her. She heard him storming after her, and when the first crossbow bolt hit the wall beside her, she faltered.

  Don’t give up, don’t give up …

  “Ori!” This time it was Seth roaring her name, his voice bruised and gravelly. Murderous. If she stalled for one second, she would be dead. She heard Maceo’s desperate shouts for her, and as she reached the front door finally and wrenched it open, she could see her lover running towards her, coming to save her, followed by shouting police officers.

  A sudden searing, burning pain hit her right kidney, and she knew she’d been hit, but staggered out of the door, throwing herself down the stone steps into Maceo’s arms.

  “He’s coming,” she managed to say to him, seeing the panic in his green eyes. Seconds later, Seth came raging from the building, dropping the crossbow and barreling into the couple. All three were sent sprawling to the gravel. Maceo shoved Ori away before he set upon Seth again.

  Ori crawled away, groping around to her back and, giving a scream, wrenched the bolt from her flesh. She could feel sticky blood on her hands but ignored it. She heard shouting, more sirens, but all she could think of was getting to Maceo, helping to fight Seth, saving at least one of them.

  Maceo was pounding on Seth, but the other man managed to flip him and plowed his fist into Maceo’s jaw. But Maceo was raging, his adrenaline flooding his system and he once again got the advantage, yelling in Italian, then in English. “Non sarai mai toccare di nuovo il suo. figlio di una cagna! You’ll never touch her again, you son of a bitch!’

  Seth kicked him away and staggered to his feet, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the gun, leveling it at Maceo.

  Maceo stared at his friend—the friend who was aiming the gun at his chest—and he shook his head. “So, this is the way it ends?”

  His friend nodded. “This is the way it ends.”

  There was a long silence, as if his friend couldn’t decide whether to pull the trigger or not. He decided to take the chance and ask the question he so desperately needed the answer to.

  “Then why all this, old friend? I get framing Alex, but why kill Netta? Why did she have to die? Why stab Ori? She did nothing wrong except love me with her whole heart, and you butchered her.”

  Seth smiled. “You don’t get it, do you? She was dead the second you touched her. And now I’m going to kill both of you.”

  And he pulled the trigger. Maceo threw himself to the floor as, behind Seth, a furious and desperate Ori tackled him. She leaped onto his back, as lithe as a monkey, and clawed at his face. Seth’s gun went skittering across the ground as Maceo launched an attack from the front. Seth threw Ori to the ground—hard—and Maceo yelled his anger, crashing into Seth with all of his strength.

  As Seth fought back, Ori managed to stand up and stagger towards the two men. Seth had Maceo’s throat and was squeezing, his eyes bulging with the effort. Ori saw his fingers digging into Maceo’s windpipe. Maceo choked, and Ori gave a banshee yell and threw herself at Seth, raising the bloody crossbow bolt he had shot her with. She brought it down hard, not caring where it hit him as long as he released Maceo.

  Maceo, freed, jerked away from Seth and then pulled a bloodied Ori away from him too. Seth’s limbs were jerking, spasming. Death throes. Ori had slammed the bolt through Seth’s eye into his brain. It was over.

  Maceo wrapped his arms around her as the adrenaline left them both, and they held each other as the police arrived to help them. “You and me, bella,” Maceo whispered to her as she was loaded into the ambulance, “You and me forever now.”

  And Ori smiled just once before she passed out.

  Two years later …

  Shiloh hoisted Lily onto her hip, ignoring the toddler’s whining, and went out into the garden. Benoit, tanned and smiling from a week in Monte Carlo, came to kiss her and relieve her of their child. Lily giggled as her father threw her into the air and caught her.

  “Tell me all kids are like that,” said a heavily pregnant Kate as she moved her chair out of the Argentinian sun. Shiloh laughed.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what the little horror was really like.” She sat down with her friends and looked at her watch. “I hope Ori and Maceo won’t be too long; lunch is nearly ready.”

  Lisander rolled his eyes. “You know what they’re like; probably stopped to have sex along the way. Even now, they’re rolling around in a field of pampas grass.”

  They all laughed. “Good grief, what a pair of kids. About time they had themselves some kids.” Kate nodded sagely, but a grinning Shiloh poked her.

  “You just want everyone to suffer along with you. I don’t blame you, I was the same.”

  “She was; she almost broke my hand in the delivery room.” Benoit put his arm around his fiancée, who poked her tongue out at him.

  “Mr. Duarte, I think your guests are here.” The maid smiled at him, and Lisander thanked her.

  Ori and Maceo joined them, smiling, happy, holding hands. The friends greeted them. Then Kate, ever wa
tchful, started to laugh.

  “What is it?” Ori looked confused. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  Kate shook her head and reached to pluck something out of Ori’s hair. She held it up. “No, sweetheart. You just have some pampas grass in your hair …”

  The End

  Secrets & Desires

  Rule number one of my job—do not fall for the client. Do not.

  And yet, of course, I did. Nox Renaud might be the richest man in New Orleans

  But he’s also the most gorgeous, sweetest, sexiest man I’ve ever met, and he wants me.

  Every time he touches me it feels like heaven when he’s inside me

  It’s like ecstasy.

  Our love is so pure, so real, so animal …

  Nothing will keep us apart, not even the dark forces that are gathering around us.

  Nothing will stop me from loving this man forever …

  Chapter One

  Amber Duplas squinted at her oldest and dearest friend as he handed her a plate of perfectly-cooked eggs. “Nox Renaud, you are a pain in my ass.”

  Nox, his green eyes amused, grinned at her. “Well then, my work here is done. But why?”

  Amber sighed and bunched her auburn hair up into a ponytail. “You’re one of the wealthiest land owners in New Orleans, an incredibly successful businessman, and—according to Forbes—one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. And yet you stand in your own palatial kitchen …” she gestured around the vast room, “cooking me eggs for brunch yourself. Haven’t you heard of chefs?”

  Nox shook his head. He was used to this line of questioning from Amber. “You know I don’t like a lot of people around me, Ambs.”

  Amber forked some egg into her mouth, almost swooning at the taste. “Which is why you’re a pain. I’m worried that you’ll become a hermit.”

  “I think hermithood arrived a while ago,” Nox said mildly. “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m nearly forty, and I’m set in my ways. I like being alone.” He dumped a panful of eggs onto his own plate and sat down. “And anyway, in a few days, the best and brightest will be here to drink my champagne and bother me all night. God, why do I do this every year?” He groaned and Amber laughed.

  “Such a Grinch.” She ruffled his dark curls and he grinned, though he was sighing on the inside. The Renaud family had given a Halloween charity benefit since way before Nox’s birth—it had been a special project of his beloved mother’s. Before the tragedy, of course. Despite his solitary nature, Nox could not bear to dishonor his mother’s legacy.

  His eyes flicked over to the framed picture of her and Teague, his adored elder brother, on the kitchen counter. Both of them dark and beautiful, laughing and hugging. Both of them gone so senselessly.

  The tragedy of the Renaud family was known throughout Louisiana and beyond. Tynan Renaud, a respected businessman, adoring husband to the Italian-born Gabriella, and heroic father to his sons Teague and Nox, had suffered a psychotic break and gunned down his wife and eldest son one night before turning the gun on himself. Nox, away at college at the time, had been destroyed. After dropping out of school and coming home to the huge plantation mansion out on the Bayou, he had struggled for years to understand what his father had done.

  Amber and his other friends had tried to persuade him to sell the place where his mother and brother had been murdered, but Nox refused. He took over his brother’s business with his friend Sandor, and together, they had made a success of it. The company, RenCar, quickly became an outlet to forget his pain, with Nox pouring twenty hours a day into the work. Luxury food importing had never been his dream—was it anyone’s?—but he had found something he was good at, and that was enough for him. His boyhood dreams of becoming a musician were pushed aside for something that would utterly distract him. The studio his mother had set aside for both of them to work in had stood empty for almost twenty years now …as had Nox’s heart.

  He realized he wasn’t listening to Amber now and apologized. She rolled her blue eyes. “Nox, I’m used to you spacing out on me, but listen, this is your party. I’m just saying, why don’t you try to be more gregarious for a change? These people pay a lot of money to come here.”

  “Mostly to see the murder house,” he mumbled, and Amber made an annoyed click with her tongue.

  “Maybe so, but the money we raise goes to a good cause, doesn’t it? Something good to come out of—damn it, Nox, you’re not the only one who lost someone.” To his horror, he saw tears in her eyes. He reached over and took her hand.

  “Ambs, I’m sorry, I know. I miss Ariel too, every day.” He sighed. So much pain, so much death. Amber was right; he needed to get out of this self-pitying funk.

  “All I ask is for you to do your part on the night. Mingle and talk to your guests.” Amber’s tone was calmer now and she smiled at him, her face soft and her eyes on his, holding them for a beat too long. Nox nodded, looking away finally.

  “I promise.”

  After Amber had gone, he wandered into his living room and flicked on the television. Local news station WDSU was doing a feature on Halloween New Orleans, the magical, manic mayhem of the festival the city threw every October. Nox sighed and waited for the inevitable mention of his party. “Wait for it,” he muttered to himself. “Will it be the Renaud Family Curse or the Mansion with the Dark Secrets, first?”

  The anchor looked serious. “Of course, before the festivities kick off on Halloween night, the New Orleans elite will gather at the Renaud mansion out on the Bayou. Regular viewers will know that the annual Creepy Cocktails Gala Benefit is held every year at the place some locals call ‘the mansion with a dark history.’ More on that after these messages.”

  Nox clicked off the television with an annoyed flick of his hand. Same story every year, and now his guests who watched the news would be all the more curious about the only remaining Renaud. Damn it.

  His cellphone rang and he answered it gratefully. “Sandor, man, you have impeccable timing.”

  His friend laughed. “Any time. Listen, we may have a deal on the Laurent restaurant chain.”

  Nox sat up. “Really?” The Laurent business was worth twice what they had offered, but had been on the market for two years with no interest. Nox knew if they got it at a cheap price and refurbished it, it could make them a fortune. He and Sandor had decided to branch out into buying restaurants to serve their luxury foods as a new income stream—not that either of them needed it, but they both were bored with their business. They wanted to get their hands dirty and do something—something physical rather than just importing food for, well, people like them.

  “Yep. Gustav Laurent is getting a divorce and he wants to get rid of the property quickly.”

  Nox was astonished. “Gus is divorcing Kathryn?”

  “Seems so. Seems like she was sleeping around on him.”

  Nox made a half-amused, half-scornful noise. “Like Gustav hasn’t been fucking around on her for years.”

  “You know Gus.”

  “Sadly, yes. Listen, I can be there in a half hour.”

  “Good,” Sandor replied. “And, afterward, I’ll spot you lunch. Deal?”

  Nox smiled down the phone. “Deal. See you then.”

  Livia Chatelaine balanced three plates expertly along her left arm and carried them to the table. The two women and the child seated at the table smiled gratefully at her as she laid their food in front of them and returned their grins. “Enjoy, folks. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  She skirted back to another table that was waiting for their check and settled up with them quickly and with her innate friendliness. She had been working at Le Chat Noir café in the French Quarter for three months now, ever since she had packed her whole life into her battered old Gremlin and driven across the country from San Diego.

  Moriko, her best friend from college, had been in New Orleans for a year and had gotten her the job at the café—it didn’t hurt that the owner, a handsome, dark-haired Frenchm
an called Marcel, had a huge crush on Moriko and would have hired anyone she recommended. Thankfully, though, Livia and Marcel had become good friends, and Livia showed up early, stayed late, and worked her ass off for him. In return, he gave her the shifts that fit best with her studies and paid her enough that she could afford the tiny apartment she shared with Moriko.

  Livia had decided as she left San Diego that she wouldn’t return to her hometown again. It held no interest for her now, and there wasn’t any family left there that she cared about. An only child, her mother had died when she was young, and Livia had brought herself up. She’d worked hard at school and at various jobs to put food on the table, while her father drank himself into a stupor every night and screamed at her if she disturbed him. Livia had stopped caring years ago about the man. As far as she was concerned, he was merely the sperm donor. What she remembered of her mother were warm, happy memories. Cancer was a fucker and it had stolen her happiness away when she was five. Livia’s last memory of her mother was of the beautiful woman kissing her goodbye one day before school, and that was the last time she had seen her. Her father hadn’t let her see her after she died.

  Livia had put herself through college on a scholarship and by working three jobs, and it had become second nature to always fight and scrape for everything. It gave her energy and reason, and when she had graduated top of her class, it had all been worth it. Her tutors had been loath to let her go and had championed her to apply for post-graduate research scholarships, but it had taken Livia four years to finally secure an offer from the University of New Orleans.

  “Hey, dreamer.” Moriko nudged Livia out of her reverie and her friend smiled at her. Moriko, a tiny Japanese-American of exquisite beauty— and she knew it—hoisted herself up onto the counter. “Marcel needs a favor.”