Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  Charvi told him everything and, desperate, Nox drove like a madman towards Sandor’s home, knowing he might be too late, that Sandor had a head start, and if he caught Livia snooping ... Images of Ariel dead, of Pia, all superimposed with Livia’s face. Livia lying dead on the grave, her belly cut open, her blood soaking everything.

  No. No. Not again.

  And his family. Nox knew in his bones that Sandor and Florian had killed them, had framed his beloved dad, murdered his brother, shot the defenseless Gabriella and left her to die a slow, agonizing death. And all because Florian Carpentier was a jealous, psychopathic rapist. Fuckers.

  But all he could think of now was getting to Livia, to save his love. Please, please, let her be okay …

  Despite being shocked and terrified at Sandor’s appearance, Livia was ready to fight.

  “Motherfucker!” she yelled at him and launched herself at the man. Hitting him full force, they tumbled to the floor, the knife slicing through the air, precariously close to Livia’s body. She pounded at his face, kicking him, totally enraged.

  Sandor cuffed her across the face so hard her ears rang as she crashed to the floor. “I knew you suspected me, Livia, as soon as I saw your face yesterday. When the home called me this morning and told me you’d been snooping around …” He straddled her and tried to bind her hands. Livia struggled, yelling at him, hoping that someone, anyone would come. He grabbed her head and bounced it viciously off the floor.

  “Livia!”

  Nox. Nox was coming. It gave her strength, and she brought her knee up, striking Sandor in the balls—but it wasn’t enough. As she scrambled away from him, he jerked her back and slammed her back against the wall, ripping open her shirt. Livia struggled, but then he put his forearm across her throat, pressing down hard, and she couldn’t breathe.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” she gasped, “you can kill me, but you won’t get away with it.”

  Sandor merely smiled and drove his knife into her belly. Livia gasped at the agonizing pain that shot through her. “Shame I can’t do this slowly, beautiful girl, but as you can tell, I’m in a hurry.” Blood pumped from the wound and Livia could smell rust and salt. Sandor admired his work. “You bleed well, Livia. I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Dazed by the pain, Livia lost her breath as he stabbed her again, the knife driving through her navel and slicing deep into her. But then Nox was there, roaring, knocking Sandor off of Livia, who slumped to the floor. Livia rolled onto her side and crawled away, bleeding heavily, her hands clamped to the vicious wounds in her belly.

  Seeing Nox and Sandor struggle, she crawled towards Jason’s body. Grabbing the bodyguard’s gun, she turned in time to see Sandor sink his knife into Nox’s stomach. Nox yelled out in agony and Sandor laughed, yanking the knife free.

  “No!” Livia screamed and aimed the gun at Sandor, pulling the trigger. The gun clicked. Livia cursed. Was the gun empty? Sandor got in a vicious right hook to Nox’s temple. Nox staggered away from Sandor and Sandor dived at Livia.

  “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “you have to turn the safety off. Allow me to demonstrate.”

  As Nox, bleeding, came after him, Sandor turned the gun on Livia and shot her, the bullet tearing through her belly. It felt like fire ripping through her. Her body jerked with the impact and she could no longer feel her legs.

  We’re going to die here. We’re both going to die here … “Nox …” Her voice was weak and she felt herself dying now. There was blood everywhere, and she could feel her body shutting down. Fighting with Sandor, Nox looked at her desperately.

  “Hang on, baby girl. Hang on, please … keep breathing, Livvy …” He was struggling with Sandor now, trying to get control of the gun. Another shot rang out, the bullet burying itself in the wall, then another, and Nox jerked back, his shoulder gushing blood. Sandor laughed.

  “Whatever you do to me now, Nox,” Sandor snarled at Nox, “she’s still a dead woman. Look at her, bleeding out. And I thought killing your Ariel was satisfying. You can watch while I empty the rest of this gun into your beautiful girl, Renaud.” He aimed the gun at Livia again.

  Nox, weakening from blood loss, nevertheless threw himself at Sandor again and the two men tussled once more. Livia was losing consciousness, but she was desperate to stay awake, desperate to help Nox. Somehow, she managed to crawl to where Sandor had discarded his knife. Grabbing it, she plunged it into the back of Sandor’s knee, then yanked it out and sliced his Achilles tendon.

  Sandor roared in pain, going down, and Nox grabbed the gun from him. Sandor laughed, knowing he was beaten. “I hope she suffers before she bleeds to death. My only regret is that I only got to kill her once.” He spat out the words, looking up at Nox in pure hatred. Without a moment’s hesitation, Nox shot his half-brother in the face. Sandor went down, stone-cold dead. Nox staggered over to Livia, who was fading fast.

  “Stay alive, baby, please … we get our happy ending. I swear. We deserve our happy ending …” He collapsed next to her, trying to stem the blood flowing from her body, ignoring his own savage wounds. “Please, Livvy, stay with me.”

  Livia stroked his face. “If I die, I want you to know, I loved you more than you will ever know. You are the reason I lived.”

  “If you die, I die. We go together or we live together, baby, that’s the deal … Liv? Liv, please … no …”

  Livia heard his beautiful voice, begging her to live, hearing the love in his voice. But then the darkness took over, and she heard nothing more.

  Chapter Thirty

  There was so much pain and Livia didn’t want to open her eyes but she had to know if she was alive. Please, please, she begged, let Nox be alive too. If he’s dead …

  “Livvy.” She had never heard such a beautiful voice in her life. “Livvy, baby, you can open your eyes, sweetheart.”

  She opened her eyes and focused on his face. Nox was pale and needed a shave but he was there, alive and smiling at her. He stroked her hair back from her face. “We made it, Livvy.”

  “Kiss me.” She said the words but no sound came out—her throat was so dry. Nox smiled and helped her sip some water.

  “Kiss me,” she said again and this time, her voice rang out, pure and strong. Nox pressed his lips to hers and she sighed happily. “We’re alive.”

  “Yes, we are.” Nox took her hand. “You, just barely. But you’re a fighter, Livvy.”

  She touched his face as if she couldn’t believe he was real. “Sandor.”

  Nox’s expression hardened. “Dead. Good fucking riddance.”

  “Agreed. He was a hell of an actor though. Imagine holding onto that anger, that jealousy, that rage, all those years, just waiting for when you fell in love again? All because his daddy couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

  Nox nodded. “Sandor didn’t intend to get arrested either. He left a suicide note and mailed it to the local news station. He intended to kill us, then himself. I saved him the bother. He’d killed Roan weeks before. That’s how I knew it must have been Sandor; that’s how I knew to get to you.”

  “My hero.” She kissed him again then groaned. “God, I could kill him all over again for how much this hurts.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, honey. Press this if you need the morphine, but docs said you’d be in pain for a while.”

  Livia pressed the button and felt a warm rush of something in her veins. It took the edge off. “How about you? Why do you look so good?”

  Nox grinned and pulled his shirt up. A heart-shaped scar was healing well, stark pink against his skin. Livia was confused. “Nox … how long have I been out?”

  Nox’s smile faded. “Three weeks. You had a pulmonary embolism, plus the bullet damaged your liver. God. It was touch and go for a long time. You were in a coma, which, strange to say, was a blessing.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Livia took all this in and then nodded.

  “Nox?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Is it all over now
?”

  Nox nodded. “It is, honey. It was all in the letters Florian wrote to my mom. He didn’t regret a thing, the bastard. He wrote such vile things, telling her the way he was going to kill her. He never mailed them, obviously. Florian raped my mom. She had the baby and gave it to them to raise. Then she met my dad. Florian held onto that jealousy for years, and one day, he just snapped. He killed them all, saving my mom for last. In his letters, he wrote that Florian wasn’t even the one who pulled the trigger on my mom. It was Sandor.”

  Livia felt sick. “He murdered his own mother?”

  Nox nodded. “He was a sick fuck.”

  “I don’t get why he killed Pia or Moriko. I understand Roan, to frame him, and Amber to silence her, but why those two innocent girls?”

  Nox hesitated. “Liv … they think he killed a lot more than that. They think he’d been murdering women all over the country for years. He enjoyed it, darling. He got off on it. Sandor was quite the writer himself. They found diaries where he described his kills. He murdered Ariel and then blackmailed Amber into shutting up. Pia, Moriko … there was an entire notebook on the myriad of ways he dreamed up to kill you. God.”

  “Fucker.”

  “Quite.”

  Livia sighed. “How’s Odelle? How is she taking the news of Roan’s death?”

  “She’s doing okay. She’s outside, if you want to see her.”

  “God, yes.”

  Nox grinned, kissed her forehead, and went to fetch his friend. Odelle walked in and her face was blank as she stared at Livia for a second.

  “Well, look at you, lounging around doing nothing but costing my friend more money.”

  For a moment, Livia was shocked, but then Nox burst out laughing and Odelle cracked a smile. Livia giggled.

  “Odie, did you just make a joke?”

  “I think I may have. Hello, darling, it’s good to see you awake.” Odie bent down and kissed Livia’s cheek then held her hand. Livia was surprised to see tears in her friend’s eyes. “We nearly lost you.”

  “But I’m still here,” Livia said, squeezing her hand. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m so happy, honey, so glad you’re okay. I love you so much.”

  Livia did cry then and Odelle hugged her—awkwardly, of course—but Livia clung to her friend. “Thank you, Odie. I love you too.”

  Odelle couldn’t speak then, and soon after she left them alone, promising to come back—and bring some contraband food with her.

  Alone, Livia smiled at Nox. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “Even though I got you into all this?”

  She pulled his head down for another kiss. “I would take every minute of pain over and over again for you, Nox Renaud. This is us; this is our life.”

  Nox kissed her as if for the first time. “From now on,” he promised, “I swear it will be a good, happy life.”

  “Nox?”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Yeah, baby?” His voice was soft and tender.

  “Nox Renaud?”

  He grinned at her formal tone. “That’s me.”

  Livia gazed at him, her eyes shining. “Nox Renaud, would you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

  Nox’s eyes widened and he began to chuckle. “Well, damn, woman, you just stole my best line.”

  Livia grinned and pulled his face to hers, crushing her lips against his. “Is that a yes?”

  Nox kissed her passionately and then nodded. “It’s a hell yes, Ms. Chatelaine. It’s a yes and a yes and a yes …”

  The End.

  Innocent Assistant

  A Billionaire Boss/Virgin Romance

  I’d spent my whole life knowing that there was only one man for me, but why did he have to be my boss …

  When we first met, I tried to deny the instant connection I felt to him.

  My dreams wouldn’t deny it though, as fantasies took me to a world where only he and I existed.

  I’d held onto my virginity, waiting for the one man I knew would come into my life one day.

  Innately, I knew he would be the only man for me, but things were complicated.

  Life had left him jaded, and now he couldn’t see that what we had was what was always meant to be.

  I needed him to believe, and I needed that to happen before it was too late, for someone else was out to ruin me.

  He was my only chance to live out my dreams.

  A life with one man, forever …

  Chapter One

  Julia

  New York, New York

  Crisp January air hit my face as I got out of the cab in front of the WOLF television station, the newest network to open its doors in our fair city. Somehow, I’d scored an interview for the assistant position to the network’s owner, Artimus Wolfe himself.

  I had no real expectations of actually landing the job though. Fresh out of Columbia, I’d gained my bachelor’s degree in Business Administration, but with literally no experience whatsoever, my chances were slim to none. The experience of interviewing with a man like Artimus Wolfe would be invaluable to me in itself though, so I jumped at the opportunity.

  Nevertheless, I did plan on giving it my all. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I walked up to the glass doors with “WOLF” printed across them. I shivered a bit, not from the cold air but from something else entirely. Excitement.

  I wasn’t sure why I was allowing myself to get excited over something I knew I didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting, but there it was anyway.

  Stepping through those doors into the warmth of the main lobby, I stopped and looked around at the grand entrance. A giant chandelier hung over the midsection of the large room. Not what I had expected at all.

  Underneath that was the reception area. A young woman with short dark hair and thick, black-framed glasses stood behind a bar-like desk, her head bent as if she was reading something underneath the top layer of the desk.

  Approaching her, I asked, “Do you know where I can go to meet Artimus Wolfe for an interview?”

  She looked up at me. “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you standing there. Can I have your name, please?”

  The room was bustling with people, so I couldn’t fault her for not realizing one of us had stopped in front of her. “That’s okay. My name’s Julia Bengal. I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Wolfe. I know I’m fifteen minutes early, but it’s my nature to be ahead of schedule whenever possible.”

  “Cool.” She picked up a pen and made what looked to be a checkmark on something before looking back up at me. “I’ll need to see your identification, please, Julia.”

  Pulling my driver’s license out of my purse, I handed it to her. She looked it over, wrote something else down, then handed it back to me. “Thank you.” I put it back into my purse and looked in the direction she pointed.

  “You’ll take the elevator to the far left. You’re going to the penthouse, so press the large ‘P’ button. You’ll be in the lobby when you step off the elevator. Brady is the receptionist up there, and he’ll tell you what to do when you get there.” She winked. “Good luck, Julia Bengal.”

  “Thank you.” Leaving the desk, I went to the elevator and felt that a knot had formed in my stomach. I was quickly disintegrating into a nervous wreck, something I hadn’t expected would happen to me.

  This was supposed to be nothing more than practice for me. Is this what I could expect with every interview I had? I expected to have many of them before landing a job. This was terrible news for me.

  The elevator was full of people. It took forever for me to get up to the penthouse, and I was the only one left by the time I got there. I found it terrifying to be all alone in the large elevator. When it stopped and the doors opened, I saw another chandelier hanging in the reception area. Both of them were smaller than the ones on the ground floor, but more ornate.

  A short guy was polishing the brass bar that ran across the front of his desk. “Hi, I’m Julia Bengal.” I came to his des
k as he walked around behind it, tossing the white cloth he’d been using into a waste bin.

  Pulling off a pair of blue surgical gloves, he tossed those into the trash too. “You’re early. He’ll like that. Take a seat, Miss Bengal, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  Before my butt had even hit the chair, a man was coming out of the office right off the lobby. “Julia Bengal?” he called out to me.

  My eyes caught his shiny black shoes first, and then ran up a pair of long legs covered in black slacks, all the way up his over six-foot frame. A white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone rested under a black suit jacket. My eyes traveled over a firm jaw next, and a pair of chiseled lips smiled at me, and then my eyes finally landed on his—piercing blue, the smile in them as well. His thick, dark hair hung in loose waves just to the top of his collar. A broad set of shoulders and chest to match told me he had a lot of muscles underneath those clothes.

  And there I was, ogling the man who was about to interview me for a job as his assistant. This was not good at all.

  Why does he have to be so devastatingly good-looking?

  My brain kicked in and my mouth opened as I walked toward him with my hand extended. “Yes, I’m Julia Bengal.”

  He gave my hand a little shake then gestured to his door. “Artimus Wolfe. It’s nice to meet you, Julia. Please, come into my office.”

  The place was huge—so much bigger than I’d imagined. A dark oak desk the size of a dining table sat squarely in the middle of the room. Two black leather chairs sat in front of it. One more matching leather chair sat at the right of it, and a big, overstuffed black leather chair sat behind it.

  I walked behind him and he pulled out one of the two that sat across from his. “You can sit here, Julia.”