Sweet Seduction Sacrifice

by Nicola Claire

  "I bet that look works well for you in court," I offered and then because he was scaring me half to death, I kept going. "Not that I would think family law requires you to intimidate your client's exes, but I guess it could make negotiations go in your favour." He blinked at me. Great, movement. "Scare them into giving up half their assets and sharing custody of the kids." OK, now would have been a good time to stop. "But my mother always said, you catch way more bees with honey than vinegar. Maybe you should try that, because I'm telling you now," - and here we go, Gen Cain and her big, fat mouth - "it won't work on me. I'm made of sterner stuff." Total crap, but I could bluff just as well as the next guy.

  "Do I scare you?" he asked evenly.

  I snorted, it just slipped out. "Well, yeah."

  "Good."

  "Good?"

  "Yes, you should be scared of me."

  "Why should I be scared of you?" Macho men were intriguing and all, but if he was going this route, I'd obviously made a mistake and escape would be a very good plan about now.

  He stepped forward, and because he'd moved at all, I missed at first the air changing. It was no longer menacing, but heavy with something else. Something promising, something sensual.

  "You should be scared of me, because you've intrigued me, Genevieve Cain. It takes a hell of a lot to capture my attention, and you have caught it." How did I manage that?

  "And that's something to be scared of?" I asked in an embarrassingly small voice. He stepped closer again, now within a foot of where I sat on a sagging couch.

  "At first I thought you would be a nice distraction." Now hang on a minute, distraction? "Delightful in every way, but probably not enough to hold my attention for long. They never do."

  He stepped closer still, I glared at him. He wasn't winning any Brownie points with this speech.

  "But with those ridiculous socks and the way you sang with your whole heart behind it and cleaned your store, I knew I was in trouble." Oh. And he thinks he's in trouble? "And the way you talk non-stop when you're nervous and what you say." He chuckled and shook his head from side to side.

  He was right before me now, standing so tall above me, but I didn't feel scared of his size or presence anymore, I was scared I was falling for him. He crouched down in front of me, his hands resting on both my knees, fingers kneading, his blue-blue eyes looking into mine.

  "It's too late now, sweetheart."

  What? "Too late?" I asked dumbly.

  "Yeah, too late," he whispered. "You've intrigued me, you've captured my attention. I won't let you go now. That is why you should be scared."

  I think I had stopped breathing. Was this man crazy? Did men actually talk like this having only known a woman for just over twenty-four hours? He sounded so sure, so determined. Dominic Anscombe had just announced his intentions and no matter what anyone thought about how ridiculous they might have been, he'd spoken. His word was law.

  I'd seen the way the room responded to him, when he asked them to leave us alone for a moment. No one questioned him, no one doubted his right to speak to me in private. He said it, they did it. And I got the impression now, that this was the same. Dominic had declared he wouldn't let me go now, and I had the feeling that was definitely the case. He didn't strike me as man who said things for the hell of it, every word from his lips was premeditated, thought through - calculated. He meant everything he'd just said. But what the hell did that mean for me?

  "You're crazy," I declared without thinking. I couldn't think straight to save myself right then.

  He smiled, that smile. My breath left me in a rush. His hand came up and cupped my face.

  "Now we've got that established, what the hell did you mean by um?"

  Maybe it was his declaration, maybe it was his touch. It probably was the smile though, but whatever it was I answered. And I answered him with the truth.

  "Brett will take the store if I don't let him move back in. I can't lose the store, so I agreed. Kind of, anyway, I didn't say the words but he knows me, he could tell I wouldn't chance losing the store by pushing him away."

  I watched as Dominic's face turned to stone. I should have been scared, I should have read the warning signs, but I was on a roll and when my mouth gets on a roll, my brain disconnects. It's a hazard, but I can't seem to avoid it - I barrel into it head first every time.

  "I don't love him," I declared as though it mattered that Dominic knew that. "But I won't lose Sweet Seduction, I can't lose it."

  "What makes you think you'll lose it?" he asked, voice low.

  "He said he'd take it away from me if I refused to let him back in. He said it would be my word against his, about how much he contributed to the relationship. He said he'd prove I owed him for the time we spent together." Well, he hadn't said that in so many words, but I knew Brett too, and his few words and actions had implied it.

  "He stole your inheritance, he hasn't got a good case," Dominic pointed out, not surprising me in the least that he knew the particulars of my case. He may not have been my lawyer, but he had been the one to approve me as a pro bono case. He would have been made aware of all the details.

  "Can you guarantee that?" I asked, voice firm.

  He blew a breath out harshly. I couldn't tell if it was because of frustration or anger or maybe disbelief that I'd ask such a stupid question. "Nothing is guaranteed."

  "Exactly," I shot back. He frowned.

  "It's just a store," he said, sounding dumbfounded.

  I blinked at him. How could he call Sweet Seduction just a store. He didn't know me at all.

  His hand came back up from where it had rested at my side and cupped my cheek again.

  "Sweetheart, I know it means a lot to you. But can you honestly tell me, it means so much you would let a man who steals from you and kidnaps you, back in your bed?"

  Who said anything about my bed? He'd get the couch, like he'd had the couch for the past year. I didn't say that though, instead I said, "Yes, it does."

  He stiffened. "Perhaps, I've made a mistake," he muttered as if to himself.

  I watched him closely, unsure what he meant by that. He looked deep in thought for a moment and then his eyes flicked up to mine and I sucked in a breath at what I saw. They were still so blue-blue, but there was something else there. Something determined, something basic, as in an animalistic basic, a base emotion that all animals have at their very core.

  "You don't see it yet, you're blinded by your fear of losing your dream."

  He knew. He'd somehow pieced it together. I couldn't remember referring to Sweet Seduction as my dream, but maybe I had over dinner, when he drilled me with questions about my life, my past, my passions. Of course I had. I wouldn't have been able to talk of my passions without talking of Sweet Seduction. But he was calling me out on it now. He knew why I was taking Brett back. He knew it wasn't love, it was necessity. A sacrifice to protect my dream. The only dream I will ever have.

  I didn't realise how important his understanding was to me. I had only just met this man yesterday, yet somehow he had entrenched himself in my life. For a brief moment I had contemplated letting him be a second dream, albeit borrowed. But I had thought for a little time I could have him and my one and only dream as well. For a while I had allowed myself to fall a little for him, in the hopes of living a second dream. I couldn't now of course, taking Brett back had meant handing that borrowed dream back to whoever it should belong to. It wasn't mine to keep. But despite that, his understanding now meant so much to me, I felt tears well up and spill over from my eyes.

  His thumb wiped each side of my face softly, swiping at the falling tears.

  "No, you don't see it, but I can show you." He'd lost me. I was still back on the dream.

  Then suddenly he was close, so close I could feel the heat from his chest against mine, his hot breath against my lips, his fingers already entwined in my hair. One arm wrapping around my back, shifting me forward on the couch, so my legs had to part and allow his hips between them. He
was kneeling on the floor and I was still sitting, but my chest rubbed up against his and his arms tightened bringing me closer still. I felt his groin press into me, such an intimate and unexpected position to be in.

  I thought he understood. I thought he knew he couldn't be my second dream now. So, maybe he was taking one last opportunity, before I walked right out of his life. I couldn't blame him, I'd contemplated it too. More than once. But he still surprised me. Enough for me not to push back and stop his pursuit.

  His lips brushed mine in a soft caress once, then came back for a second sweep, this time his tongue ran a hot, wet line along my bottom lip. It sent an immediate shiver down my spine and heat began to unfurl inside my belly. I was still in shock, so didn't react. He pulled back and looked at me, his eyes flashing their own kind of heat that made the butterflies milling in my belly flutter excitedly.

  "I see I'll have to try harder," he murmured and then his lips pressed into mine again, this time firmer, more forcefully, his whole body pressing against mine too.

  I parted my mouth on an expelled breath of surprised and incredibly turned on air. He pounced on the opening, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth. I think I might have groaned. His head tilted sideways, as though he was really getting serious now. His body shifted even closer, his hand in my hair, tugging my head down gently so my mouth was tipped at the right angle for him to plunder. And he did. No longer soft and slow, the kiss escalated, blew right past delightful and daring and slammed into decadent and dangerous.

  Our whole bodies melded together as our tongues tangled in a hot and furious dance. Somehow my legs had wrapped around him in a wanton display of hussy-ness, aided by a pull of my body closer with one of his hands under my rear. My arms were now exploring as well. One hand up on his head, messing that glorious mop of dark hair, the other inside his pulled out T-shirt, which if I had been able to process properly would have alarmed me to hell. I was stripping the guy all because he was kissing me like I had never been kissed before in my life.

  I thought he might just consume me, but my desire to taste him was just as great and for a while it was me who consumed him. I don't know how much time passed, I didn't care, all that mattered was kissing the gorgeous god-like man before me. Feeling his hot smooth skin beneath my fingers, trailing the pattern of his well defined muscles. I wanted to rip his T-shirt off, I wanted to lick all over his skin. To taste him everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I couldn't get enough. I couldn't contemplate stopping. I wanted him. I had to have him. He was so divine.

  We pulled apart and I found myself kissing down his chin, laying a trail of hot kisses across his throat, burying my face in the crease at the side of his neck. My tongue getting only a fraction of the taste I wanted of his body. He tasted so divine.

  I felt his chest shudder beneath me, his hands languidly running all over my back and up into my hair. He was panting as much as me, a soft groan emitting from the back of his throat when I nibbled on his ear. He pressed our bodies closer together, how he managed that I'm not sure. But the movement let me know how turned on he was too. I wanted to run my fingers down his abs and make my way even lower, but he tangled his fist in my hair again and pulled my lips from his skin, bringing my face back to look me in the eye. I let a small mewl of protest out at being denied my goal. He made a sound of amusement, somewhere between the cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh and a chuckle.

  "Do you see now, sweetheart?" I blinked dazedly back at him.

  "What?" I husked, he smiled, that smile and I was sure I had died and gone to heaven.

  "You are not taking him back," he whispered against my bruised lips. "You are already mine."

  Some of the fog lifted, I blinked again, but this time it was to clear my head, not in reaction to the sound of his voice spoken so softly and so near.

  "What did you just say?" I asked, pulling against his hold, but he wouldn't let me budge an inch.

  "I want you to trust me," he said in a firm voice. "Can you do that?"

  "Trust you? I barely know you."

  "Do I have to kiss you again? I would be happy to, but bear in mind things could escalate even further." He pressed his groin in closer briefly, leaving me in no doubt as to where his thoughts on escalation led.

  "But..." I managed, before his lips were back against mine and all thought left my head.

  Several seconds later he let me come up for air. He looked in pain, but a good type of pain, like he'd do it again and to hell with the consequences. I was right there with him. I couldn't say no to this man.

  "Oh," I said softly, getting it finally.

  "We can't walk away from this," he announced, recognising he'd made his point and got through. "But I'm asking you to trust me, can you try to do that?"

  Could I? I didn't really know him, I'd met him only yesterday. But in that time he had taken my case on for no charge, we'd spent an amazing evening over dinner together and he'd come to rescue me from my crazy, gambling, delusional, dream-stealing, inheritance-stealing ex-boyfriend. For such a short amount of time he'd proven just what sort of man he was. Charitable, intelligent, gorgeous, entertaining, interested, bad-ass, killer lawyer, knight in shining armour, saviour. And let's not forget god-like.

  I bit my bottom lip and looked at him, really looked at him. He was dishevelled now, in a lust-filled, just had a mad-passionate-kiss-on-the-couch kind of way.... and beautiful. It would be easy to think his beauty stole my ability to do the right thing. To be able to choose the right path. But he wasn't just beautiful, or gorgeous, or god-like, was he?

  He was a dream I couldn't hope to possess.

  "Trust me," he whispered, clearly seeing I was about to bolt.

  "I don't know," I whispered back honestly.

  "I won't let him take your dream." He leaned in and kissed my temple, in amongst my hair, softly.

  It was that intimate and somehow completely familiar movement, coupled with his words, his promise, that made me collapse against him.

  "You said nothing is guaranteed," I reminded him, sticking to my guns despite my weakening resolve.

  "Trust me," he whispered again, this time in my hair as his arms had wrapped around me and my forehead was resting on his shoulder.

  I took a deep breath in, thinking I was the worst kind of crazy, and nodded. He felt the movement and I felt his whole body relax against me, then the brief tightening of his arms about my shoulders, as though he'd just won a prize and he wasn't going to let go any time soon.

  Oh dear God, what was I doing?

  Chapter 9

  Maybe I'll Go Live In Guatemala

  I ended up pressing charges. Although somewhat in a daze still from those kisses, it hadn't slipped my notice that I simply couldn't say no to this man. This was mildly alarming. But also, strangely liberating. I had fought Brett constantly the entire time we were together. He didn't come close to Dominic's strength of character, but he had been one of those men who tried to direct your life. I had rebelled, while accepting it. But with Dominic, it was as though all fight had left me. No, that wasn't true, it was as though I had no desire at all to fight this man. I relished his involvement, it excited me in a way I had never been excited before.

  I watched him talking to Nick and Ben, Eric had already disappeared, while I sat giving my final statement to both Detective Stone and Detective Pierce. Both of them tag-teaming me in a way that kept my mind off my reaction to the events, and somehow kept me focused on simply retelling them without letting emotions get in the way. They were good, they'd obviously done it before. And because Dominic seemed to trust them, I did too. Which was surprising, considering Lofty had impersonated a police detective in his efforts to get inside my apartment. I didn't think I'd ever trust a police detective again. But here I was, answering their questions without hesitation, allowing them to buffer me from the emotions I was bound to experience at a later date.

  Maybe it was simply a necessity, maybe they did it to speed things along without the hassle of being int
errupted by my - possible - mental breakdown. They did have places to go, kidnappers to catch and all that. But whatever reason, I was appreciative. I wanted to get this part out of the way and then I wanted to soak in a bath for eternity and scrub my skin raw.

  It's not like I felt dirty - well at least not the mental type of dirty, I was covered in blood and had been in the same clothes for over twenty-four hours - it was more the idea of soaking away my worries. Maybe lighting a scented candle or two, switching the stereo on and forgetting, for just a moment, that my world had turned upside down.

  I was so angry at Brett. But the feeling I had inside was stronger than anger, I think calling it anger was a misnomer. I was irate, furious, raging. I didn't have time to feel shock, or depression, or fear over what had happened. I was full on livid. And right now I was clinging to that emotion by my fingertips, in a desperate effort to just get through the next hour and make it to my loft and run a bath.

  Finally the rehash of the night's events was done, I signed the handwritten statement Pierce had written, ignoring his intense appraisal of me the entire time. The guy was starting to freak me out, he clearly was not a happy camper. Nice to know our boys in blue took kidnappings seriously, but it was as though he had a personal interest in this case. He seemed hell-bent on catching Brett, which was both impressive and a little disconcerting. I may have agreed to press charges on Greeny - whose actual name happened to be Paul Malcolm Green - but I hadn't yet aligned that with Brett. If Dominic asked me to press charges against him, I really wasn't sure if I could. Maybe it would be the one thing I could say no to him about. I didn't know.

  What I did know was, despite telling Dominic that I trusted him and in effect shutting Brett down, I was still enormously worried about the threat Brett held over Sweet Seduction. To save my store, to save my dream, I would do anything.

  The police detectives left, forensics moved in and under the pressure of a firm hand on my elbow from Dominic, I was led out of the sleazy motel we had been in. Another reminder that Brett had squandered all of his money as well as mine, if this was the sort of place he intended holing me up in while he sorted his shit out.