Capture

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Capture Page 4

by Flora Dain


  Truth to tell, working this close to my fiancé may be tricky. His temper’s uncertain, to say the least. And if he’s as hard to please at work as he is in bed I’ll have my work cut out.

  Now his dark look sends tremors through me as I make my way slowly down the hills and valleys of his chest-scape. I can sense his impatience as I swiftly unfasten his jeans and free him for inspection.

  His breathing speeds up as I close in on his eager, jutting manhood, now only inches from my lips. I can feel the warmth from his thighs, where his business centre lurks in its dark mat of springy hair, eager for attention, even more eager when I start to give it some.

  Down here he’s newly clean and vividly rampant. The light, elusive scent of his shower gel mingles with the dark Darnley-aroma of his crotch. It works havoc on my heightened senses. For some reason the light, teasing touches of my lips and my tongue inflame him even faster than usual. With a low growl he soon takes control and kneels up over me, his thighs like carved columns at either side of my face.

  ‘Take it deep. All the way.’

  Whoa. Where did this come from? I do it quickly, my mind racing. He had a shock last night – right after the scrawled graffiti greeted our arrival. And then there was that business in the boat … Is this some kind of delayed reaction?

  I take him deep, eager to please, gulping the last couple of inches to tease him with my clutching throat, but this angle is awkward. His remote, faintly amused gaze warns me my struggle turns him on, so I persist, biting back my protest, making sure he can see me strain.

  Whatever he wants. I gasp air when I can as he starts to slide in and out of my eager mouth and I yawn my throat open to receive him, to please him …

  Is this helping? Will it soothe him? Is this what keeps him sane? Or is it simply taking control that grants him peace? And why is he so casual about that face I saw? I’m still shaky over it. Since when did seaweed wear goggles?

  What is it he’s not telling me?

  As he eases me away from his cock and throws himself back down on the covers, it hits me all at once that maybe I’m missing a trick here. He’s mad as hell.

  This is a family with secrets. And out here Darnley’s got secrets too.

  And maybe one of them is he’s scared for me.

  He leans up and kisses me on the mouth, his lips light but his gaze hot. ‘Sunny side up? Or sunny side down?’

  He’s grinning now, calm and relaxed, and all at once it’s me who’s tense. I raise myself up and gaze down at him. ‘Are you OK about these – hitches? The paint, that face? I know you said to expect weird things – but how weird were they? Tell me.’

  He frowns. ‘Why?’

  I swallow. ‘It’s just – you should tell me when you worry about things.’

  He tips me off and rolls over on top of me, his erection jutting into my belly, hot and hard, still close. I feel a faint throb in response as he moves gently against me, pressing me cruelly close to my peak.

  ‘I’d sooner not. Not when what I worry about is you.’

  He fastens on my mouth for a long, hot kiss and then shifts into position with our mouths still fused together. When he releases my lips he rests on his hands and slides right up inside, each thrust of his loins a jolt of possession, a statement of love. My mind empties of everything but his power and his heat as he rams into me, filling me up, over and over, the dark gleam in his eyes pinning me down as effectively as his muscled forearms, his tight grip and his fierce hunger.

  This time we come almost at the same moment, me tipping over the edge just seconds before he does. Maybe my spasms fire his climax – maybe it’s simply the ecstatic moan of pleasure that escapes me as he jolts me into my final bliss. Our embrace fuses us together for long seconds.

  We finally stretch out to relax, then I twine around him and nestle in the crook of his arm. I’ll keep my questions for later. This close, I sense he’s still keeping something back.

  The glint in his eyes is a warning. Something’s not going to plan. And I’ve an uneasy feeling that it’s somehow linked to me.

  * * *

  At last we set off for the complex. We cross the highway and drive towards the foothills in Darnley’s flashy new convertible. With the wind in our hair and an open road it makes a welcome change from the cushioned privacy of his limo. Without his driver we feel reckless, like kids.

  On the way he fills me in on some of the detail about his new venture, his hand straying constantly from the steering wheel to stroke my thigh.

  I try to focus as he does this, but it’s an effort.

  ‘There’s renovation work still going on. The new intake’s on short, intensive courses, just to give them a taster, a feel for the conditions some of their future employers may expect.’

  He slows to steer round a motorcycle and then eyes it in the rear-view mirror. ‘And some of the recruits are – well, you’ll see when you meet them. They come from different backgrounds, shall we say.’

  ‘Like ours at the Academy?’

  He grins briefly and then squeezes my thigh. ‘That’s partly why I want you on board. You’re brilliant with difficult kids. Your Principal thinks so, anyway.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘He never said. Maybe if he had I’d have stayed in Boston.’

  He squeezes my thigh again. ‘Do I detect mutiny in my troops? This may need a touch of discipline.’

  A spike of alarm brings with it a stab of arousal so acute I ache. ‘Maybe we should talk about this another time.’ I try for carefree, but it comes out husky.

  He laughs and lowers his voice. ‘It’s a date.’

  The complex is being set up in a former sports and leisure facility. It’s being extensively refurbished. Workmen are everywhere.

  The site seems huge. It’s mostly bushes and scrub but here and there it’s dotted with cactus and yucca. I can hear shouting from one of the fields like there’s football going on somewhere.

  I make out a golf course and a shooting range. Cabins and outbuildings cluster round a half-emptied pool. Sports fields seem to stretch all around us. As we cruise along the freshly paved driveway up to the low ranch-like building at its hub I learn that the site was too far off the highway to turn a profit.

  ‘The caterers tried to keep up hotel standards. Got too costly to run so they had to sell. But the isolation makes it perfect for this. Ah, here she is. My temporary manager and our guide for today.’ He eases the powerful car to a purring halt and glances at me with a sardonic grin. ‘But I was forgetting. You two already met.’

  I feel myself stiffen. Walking towards us I see my new manager. And that sour look on her face tells me she’s just as thrilled to see me. Freda.

  ‘Hi there, we meet again. Enjoy your dip? We all did.’

  My heart sinks. So she still dislikes me.

  ‘Hi.’ I smile politely, ignoring the rest.

  To my surprise her face softens. ‘Saw a whole new you out there, Ella. I’d no idea you had it in you.’ She gives a short bark of laughter. ‘I mean, I can guess it’s in you pretty much most of the time, but still –’

  ‘Enough.’ Darnley’s scowl cuts her off.

  She grins. ‘Lighten up, cousin. We’re in the fun state now. Let me show you both around.’

  She walks on ahead, her boot heels clicking on the new wooden floors. We look into various rooms as we pass. Recruits, some working on equipment, some peering at whiteboards, glance up as she glares in at their instructors and waits just long enough to disrupt the teaching before moving on.

  It’s an unpleasant display of power. Weirdly, it seems to be aimed at me. Darnley pays little attention. He’s busy murmuring into his phone.

  She’ll be a nightmare to work for, I think. I vow to tackle him about some aspects of my stay here.

  I slip away now and then and talk to some of the new recruits, guessing some of them will be my pupils too. While Darnley takes his cousin aside to ask her how things are going I sidle up to one group after another and say hi.
r />   It’s worse than I thought.

  ‘Wow. You mean you’re …’

  ‘Hey, you guys, guess who this is?’

  ‘You mean you’re gonna teach here? Phew …’

  All too aware what this is really about, I steel myself to laugh it off.

  Inside I’m seething. How could he do this?

  ‘Hey. You making friends already? Time to go.’

  The recruits take a step back as Darnley touches my arm. They quickly turn back to their task – in this case, something on laptops. They’re working on a new ID system. The best one may be developed at Wolfe Security HQ.

  When I mentioned surfing I learned that none of them here actually swims. So who was it under my boat this morning?

  Now I turn to my fiancé with a calm smile. ‘Sure. Right away. Bye, you guys.’ I’m rewarded with a few covert glances and a couple of knowing smiles.

  Freda eyes me calmly. ‘You off, then? Cool. Have fun in your new boat. We’ll look forward to it.’

  Her earthy chuckle follows us out into the sunshine as we head for the car. Out of earshot I shake my arm free of Darnley’s grip.

  ‘How could you do that? That was the most excruciating half-hour of my life. After a stunt like that you seriously expect me to teach these people?’

  ‘Calm down.’ His eyes snap. ‘Wait till we’re on the road. They’ll hear you.’

  ‘They’ve seen me. That’s bad enough.’

  His face softens. ‘Hey, chill. They like you. Here, you drive.’

  He throws the keys at me. Miraculously I catch them.

  With a snort I take the driver’s seat, peer at the controls and then gulp. ‘What? Me drive this?’

  He’s eyeing me from the passenger seat, his arms folded. ‘You heard.’

  My heart sinks as I fire the engine and take a swift check on where the controls are. It takes me a while to adjust to new cars, and this is a powerful V8 engine, gleaming new.

  His sarcastic grin sparks my temper and soon we’re heading out of the driveway and back on the road to the coast. I try to keep up my protest but it’s hard, with the sight of cactus lining the road, hot sunshine on my back and the glorious Pacific wind blowing back my hair. The feel of the powerful engine at my feet and the light, twitchy steering wheel, responsive as a lover, does the rest.

  Soon I relax and let the powerful engine sing to me as I take it up through the gears and lean on the gas.

  ‘Hey, slow down. You’re speeding. We don’t want to get pulled over.’

  I laugh, high now on power and wind and speed. ‘Who’s going to pull us over? There’s nobody for miles.’

  I rest my hand on his thigh, thrilling to the hard muscles I feel as I give him a squeeze. Quid pro quo. He was doing it to me, all the time we drove over here …

  ‘Keep your eyes on the road.’

  His angry snap sends a little ripple of desire through me that mingles with the light and the speed and makes me laugh. But as I check in the rear-view mirror my knuckles stiffen on the steering wheel.

  Shit. In the distance I can see a motorcycle. It’s bearing down fast, like it wants to catch us up. Someone’s spotted us so soon?

  I almost jerk the car as I stand on the brake to slow us down to the state limit. Now the bike is closing in. It’s almost on us …

  ‘Pull over. He wants to pass.’ Darnley’s shout scares me so much I jump.

  The steering jolts us dangerously close to the roaring machine, barely a foot away from my door as it starts to overtake. A furious blast from his horn makes me jump again and we ricochet, the sensitive steering over-reacting as the tires hit the loose stones along the edge of the dusty road.

  And now I see something else – this is no state trooper. He’s clad head to foot in black leather and he’s wearing goggles. Worse, he looks mad. He thought I did that on purpose.

  I lean over the lowered window to grin an apology and I see he’s peering at me with a broad grin, his teeth firm and white, and he’s leaning out towards me.

  At that moment there’s a ghastly scraping noise and an angry yell from Darnley. ‘Pull over, dammit. He’s crunching into you. And for fuck’s sake slow down.’

  Panic had jammed my foot on the gas. Now I ease it off, but I’ve lost control of our balance. All at once we’re all over the place and we veer dangerously close to the side of the road.

  With a terrifying jolt the tires lose their grip and we career off the road and head into the scrubby landscape lining our route to the highway.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  After a few terrifying bumps and jolts we halt in a clump of bushes.

  Behind us the motorcycle roars off into the distance, its rider yelling with laughter and hooting his twin klaxon in triumph.

  I lean over the steering wheel, panting, my hands still locked on it. I can feel sweat trickle down my back.

  ‘You OK?’ Darnley’s low voice stirs me to a shudder.

  ‘Sure,’ I say, hoping I’ll sound less squeaky when I’ve breathed in a few times. ‘Here. You drive.’ I snatch the keys out of the ignition and dangle them.

  He takes no notice.

  I stay where I am, still panting, as he gets out of the passenger seat and comes round to inspect the damage. He regards it in silence for a moment and then looks back at the road, his nostrils flaring. ‘He made a mess of the door. OK, we better go back. Start the car and reverse out.’

  I stare at him in panic as he takes a few steps back. ‘Wait. Aren’t you driving?’

  ‘Nope. You are.’

  ‘I can’t.’ I lick my lips.

  He leans over the door and puts his hand around the back of my neck, folding his fingers lovingly so that his thumb grazes the tip of my ear. ‘You must, Ella. If you don’t you’ll be too scared for months. Just do it. Take it slow. You’ll be fine.’

  His tone and his look are so gentle, and the kiss he drops on my damp, clammy forehead so hot, that I take a deep breath and turn the key.

  ‘OK. But don’t blame me if we get lost.’

  We almost do as I finally edge out of the clump of bushes. Still on autopilot I make for the lane we were on before.

  ‘Turn left. Back to the complex.’ His sharp command makes me wrench the wheel.

  Rattled, I spin the wheel in the other direction. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ll see.’ His mouth settles into a grim line.

  He phones ahead. When we finally pull up a reception committee is waiting for us. Darnley instantly leaps over the side of the car and strides up to them. ‘Show us the transport hangar. We missed it before. Now.’

  He glances back at me, his look angry. ‘Ella, get your ass over here.’

  I gather my doting fiancé wants me to join him. As I do so he grips my arm but his anger’s focused on Freda.

  ‘Which of your machines just came back in?’

  To my intense satisfaction she actually looks scared. ‘What? None of them. Why?’

  I swear she’s changed colour. In answer he strides off towards a long, low shed we’d missed on the tour. I’d thought it was empty but as we walk inside I see it’s full of machinery – motorcycles. Two gleaming rows of them are lined up in the pale, dust-filled space where the afternoon sun slants in through the skylight. There must be around thirty machines here, some of them large and very powerful.

  As we walk in a pale-faced mechanic walks towards us, wiping his hands on an oily rag. He’s stocky, his dark hair limp and greasy. His mouth slumps badly at one side. ‘Sumpn’ up, y’all?’

  Freda glances at me. ‘This is Chet Newson, our mechanic.’ She strides forward and he shrinks back, instantly cowed. ‘Any of the bikes been out today?’

  ‘Nossir. None of’em. I bin workin’ here since breakfast. Sir. I mean, ma’am.’

  Darnley glances at me. ‘Feel the motors. See if one of them’s hot. I’ll take the row on the left. You take the right.’

  I do it, marvelling at the massed power in here. The machines are all gleaming BMWs or Harl
ey-Davidsons, shiny-new and arranged in order of size. The little mechanic clearly takes pride in his work.

  They’re all cold.

  Freda stays near the door, pinning the mechanic with her steely gaze. ‘Chet? Are you sure about that?’

  He mumbles a reply and she continues to question him, her voice low. When we rejoin her he seems close to tears.

  She shakes her head. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s telling the truth. He’s a good kid. That right, Chet?’

  She ruffles his lank hair in a sudden fond gesture. He’s clearly an apple or two short of a picnic, but I look at her with new respect.

  The little mechanic certainly seems to like her. His eyes follow her like a devoted puppy’s as she heads for the door, now talking earnestly to Darnley, her voice low.

  ‘Whoever it was, they can’t have come from here. You can see these machines are still cold …’

  ‘Ma’am?’ I jump as Chet leans close to me, his gaze anxious. Close up he smells of motor oil and sweat.

  ‘Hi, Chet. What is it?’ I smile, still shaky.

  ‘You wus swimmin’ this morning, right?’

  My smile vanishes. Oh, no, not another … ‘Yes. You swim too?’

  He takes a step back, fear in his eyes. ‘Nossir. Tain’t safe. There’s a troll down there.’

  I frown. ‘A what?’

  His eyes are wide now. He licks his lips. ‘A cave troll. I heerd it. Tain’t safe down there. You stay outta the water, ma’am.’

  I smile vaguely and back away to the door.

  A few hours earlier I’d have taken no notice. But I’m still chilly from shock. It’s no time to dismiss cave trolls out of hand. I feel his eyes on my back as I hurry out into the welcome sunshine and catch up with Darnley.

  He folds his arm round me. ‘You done?’ He nods to Freda. ‘Let me know if you hear anything. We’d better get back.’

 

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