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A Dash of Desire (Spiced Life #2)

Page 11

by Charity Parkerson


  ***

  An invisible vice was squeezing the air from Tristan’s throat. Adam’s face was hardened in a way Tristan hadn’t seen in years, not since he married Faith. Only the knowledge Riley would soon be in his arms kept Tristan from snapping under the tension. Everything she’d admitted to Adam still rang in his ears.

  “When Riley gets to your house tonight, I don’t care how you do it, but you have to keep her there while I get a few things in order. Do you understand?” Tristan nodded. He had a million questions. “This woman belongs to you.”

  “She does,” Tristan agreed without an ounce of hesitation.

  In spite of how ugly Riley’s past had been, he wanted to hear every horrific detail of the life she’d lived. Knowledge was a heavy burden. Riley deserved to have someone help her carry her load. He wanted to be that person.

  “Then it’s time to take her and tie her to your side before she can get away. Trust me in this. Faith ran away from me once, and it destroyed my life. You have time to make a plan. I didn’t have that luxury. Do not fuck this up.”

  He couldn’t. That wasn’t an option. Adam’s cherry wood desk held his fascination as Tristan tried to block out the image of a future without Riley. When it didn’t work, he switched his gaze to a bookcase by the window. The only thing it contained were pictures of Adam and Faith. He wanted that. Longing weighed on his chest and burned under his skin. His fingertips itched in his knowledge of how close he was to having the one person he wanted, and with how close he was to losing her. Adam’s voice cut through the air, reminding Tristan of his presence.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s go.”

  Tristan shot to his feet. Even though he had no clue where they were headed, he was grateful for any reprieve from his black thoughts. It wasn’t until Tristan was climbing inside Adam’s Audi R8 that he bothered to make any inquires.

  “Where’re we headed?”

  Adam held his silence until they were clear of the parking lot, almost as if he feared Faith could hear him even that far. “There’s only one place someone like Graham would choose to stay while here.”

  He didn’t have to say it. Tristan knew. “The Hilton.” He was ready. It was time to even the odds.

  By the time they hit the Hilton parking lot, Hunter was already waiting for them. Tristan wondered when Adam had time to call him. Hunter nodded in way of greeting as they climbed from the car.

  “He’s staying in room 302,” Hunter said without preamble. “Matt has him held up with a boot on his rental.” Hunter chuckled. “Bastard parked in one of Ace’s customer-only spaces when he followed Riley to the bakery.” Adam nodded, but his expression didn’t change, making Tristan question if it was information he already possessed. The three of them headed inside, going to the elevator without another word. As they moved toward room 302, Tristan noticed a “Do not disturb” sign hung from the handle. Hunter slid a black dry-erase marker from his pocket. When he slipped it underneath the card lock’s USB port, the lock disengaged. With the door open, Hunter waved him inside.

  “Best you don’t ask too many questions preacher man.”

  A muscle in Tristan’s jaw ticked. “I’m not a preacher today.”

  “That’s good to know,” Hunter said as he followed Tristan inside. “I don’t care much for religion.”

  Since Hunter rarely attended service, the confession didn’t surprise Tristan. As the man closed the door behind them, he released a loud curse that closely mirrored the one bouncing around inside Tristan’s head. Pictures of Riley covered almost every inch of the walls. Not all of them were recent. Nor was she alone in each. A few were pages torn from tabloids, showing Graham and Riley together at various locations all over the country, including the one Emma May had shown Tristan earlier in the day. Tristan noticed it was the only one Riley was smiling in. He wondered if that was the reason Emma had chosen it. Adam went for the desk in the corner, opening one of the drawers.

  Tristan took a closer look at the pictures on the wall. There was one of Riley covering her windows. It had been taken from inside the house. He recognized the shorts and tank top she’d been wearing that day. Something else pricked the back of his mind. The door had been standing open when he’d arrived. In the aftermath of Riley’s kiss, he’d forgotten all about it. Now, he wondered if she’d been the one meant to discover it. A seed of doubt sown about her safety. Tristan spent a moment trying to imagine living such a life. His blood boiled. Catching sight of another picture, the memory of their near run-in with the SUV as they’d stepped off the curb outside Club Stud made him wonder about something else.

  “You said Matt put a boot on his rental. What’s he driving?”

  “A Land Rover,” Hunter answered over this shoulder.

  “Is it black?”

  Hunter went down on one knee beside the bed, lifting the bed skirt before answering. “Yep.”

  That was it. It hadn’t been an accident. Going by the expression on Riley’s face, she’d known it. “What are we looking for?” Even though Tristan was prepared to do whatever was necessary, he had to admit to a bit of disappointment. He’d hoped Graham was going to be there, so he could beat the shit out of him.

  “Leverage,” Adam answered.

  “Blackmail-worthy goods,” Hunter added. “If we can’t find something on this guy, we’ll have to move to plan B before this dude steps up his crazy to the next level. By the looks of things,” he said, casting a glance around the room at the images covering the walls. “There’s only one level left.”

  All three men understood what that step would be. If Riley left town with Graham, she’d never be seen again. Tristan headed for the dresser. “What’s plan B?”

  Adam and Hunter turned in his direction, wearing matching closed expressions, but neither man answered. Tristan opened the top drawer, joining their search. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t a single thing they could do to Graham that Tristan hadn’t already done in his mind.

  Chapter 9

  Tristan stared at the moon. It seemed huge tonight for some reason. Kicking his boots up on the porch railing, he relaxed farther into the rocking chair. Maybe it was some sort of super moon. The mundane musing kept him from going insane. In spite of the heat, chill bumps rose on his skin. The vision of Graham’s hotel room kept creeping in, along with the knowledge they hadn’t found a single thing—not anything the world didn’t already know anyhow. If Riley didn’t show up, Tristan didn’t know what he would do. Perhaps he’d follow her all the way to California. All he knew was he couldn’t let her go, and it had nothing to do with Graham. She belonged to Tristan.

  “I don’t love him.”

  Tristan’s gaze shot to the steps at the sound of Riley’s voice. She’d appeared so quietly, almost seeming to materialize out of the darkness, and then her words sank in.

  “Okay.” It was lame, he knew, but the wary expression on her face had him on edge.

  “This morning,” she explained. “You asked me if I loved him. I realized I never answered. Of course, now that I’ve said it out loud, I wonder if that doesn’t make me seem even worse.”

  Tristan didn’t know how to respond. He feared anything he said would be taken the wrong way. Not to mention, since she didn’t know he’d overheard her conversation with Adam, he didn’t want to say anything that would give him away. He settled on what he knew about her as a person.

  “You have a good heart. I have a hard time picturing you intentionally inserting yourself in someone else’s family. So let’s start there. You didn’t know he was married.” He waved his hand, indicating she should take over.

  Riley glanced away, but she wasn’t quick enough. Tristan saw the hurt in her eyes before she could hide it. “I wish I could let you believe that lie. It was more that I was insulated from her than anything else. She knew about me, and I knew about her. Sheesh. Why did I want to do this? I’m sounding worse by the minute.”

  In spite of the situation, a grin tugged at Tristan’s lips
. It didn’t matter what Riley said. He knew her. She hadn’t set out to hurt anyone. Tristan was sure of it. Too many times he’d seen her willingly take the blame for things to keep others from suffering in any way. She was back in her yellow sundress. It hugged every curve and made his mouth water. He had to say something before his lust ruined his chances of hearing her life story.

  “How about starting at the beginning? Did you meet in California?”

  Riley sat down on the top step, turning his way and leaning her back against the railing. She tilted her chin toward the sky as if unable to look directly at him as she answered. “Actually, no. We met in Nashville. I’d heard of him, of course. Mostly, his name was whispered in awe and horror, but I couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd. Not that you could miss him. Graham has…presence. All he has to do is walk into a room and he commands attention. You hear people refer to him as cutthroat, but I’m not sure anyone truly knows the meaning until facing it.

  “Back in those days, I was extremely driven to succeed. I’d just landed Kennedy as a client. I don’t know how much you know about her, but even though she’s an awesome musician, she’s also abrasive as hell. I spent all my free time soothing ruffled feathers. That’s what I was doing when Graham appeared at my side.” Maybe Riley feared Graham, but there was a small slice of her that cared about the man. He could hear it in her voice. Of course, no matter what the years had been like, they had spent them together. He knew from experience, no one was unaffected by the passage of time. A smile hovered on her lips as she turned inside herself, obviously reliving that night in her mind. “I ignored him while flirting outrageously with this older gentleman Kennedy had unintentionally insulted. Graham cut me off mid-speech, by saying, ‘I’ll give you a hundred and fifty thousand dollars and a one year contract if you come work for me.’ I froze. It was the first time in my life I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I was completely blown away.”

  Tristan could just bet. He would’ve been too. “I imagine you were also skeptical.”

  A low chuckle left her lips. “That’s putting it mildly.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “There wasn’t a single hint of emotion on his face. He simply stared at me, expecting an immediate answer. Finally, I asked him what the catch was. I half-expected him to walk away then, but he didn’t as much as blink. He said, be ready to leave by nine o’clock that night. His driver would pick me up. I was to spend two weeks working at his office in California, doing exactly as I was told. After that, I’d be expected to be available whenever he called, and spend at least one week out of every month in California. At his expense, of course. Until that moment, I’d never thought I could be bought. I also never expected anyone to wave my dreams underneath my nose, tempting me to leave my comfort zone.”

  “I don’t blame you for accepting. That kind of opportunity doesn’t come along every day. Did he ever intend for you to work for him or was it a way to have you?”

  Her hands lifted for a moment before falling to her lap. “It’s hard to say. He has a low tolerance for stupidity and laziness, so I do think he believed me capable of handling the job. On the other hand, he’s successful and a recluse, so he never really needed me.” She shrugged. “As I said, it’s hard to know with him.”

  Tristan thought about Emma May calling Riley a kept woman. Once the idea crept in, he couldn’t shake it loose. “Are you still working for him?” He wanted to keep her talking, confessing it all. There was no way he would give her up, but Tristan needed to know what he was facing. Riley shook her head.

  “Before the end of our one year contract, he bought a beach house in Orange County for us. Graham moved my things in and I followed. I’m not innocent in this. No matter how badly I’d like to make excuses, I can’t. Before Graham came into my life, I was doing fine on my own. I enjoyed interacting with people. It served me well. When people spoke to me, I was right there willing to chat the night away. I’d never felt as if I’d met a stranger, until I boarded that private jet with Graham, and I met a stranger.”

  It was the way she said it. Even though her lips hadn’t shaped the words, he understood what she she’d left out. Tristan knew in his heart Riley was a lot less to blame than she believed. If she held any fault, it was fear. Her captor held her without any visible chains. Graham Whitaker didn’t need them. He’d plucked an unsuspecting woman from the street as surely as if he’d pulled her into a van while she’d been out jogging. Perhaps, Riley’s victimization lacked the flare of a traditional kidnapping, but the damage was the same. Graham’s money and influence seemed almost insurmountable when set next to a small town girl with nowhere to go such as Riley. Tristan also knew he’d never convince Riley to see herself as a victim.

  “So what made you leave?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t have a plan,” she admitted. “One day, I woke up, and put my clothes in the car. It was like I was stuck on autopilot. Once the first basket went into the trunk, another followed. The whole time, I kept thinking I could stop at any point. Even as I stood in the rain, trying to change that flat. I knew I could go home and Graham would be none the wiser. As long as I didn’t have a plan, it wasn’t real.”

  Her answer sucker punched Tristan. He didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he hated about it, but he did. Perhaps, it was the idea that Riley’s answer gave Emma May’s scornful words credence. In a way, Riley had simply been living in tangent, waiting until it was time to go back to Graham.

  “Then you appeared,” Riley said, pulling Tristan from his black thoughts. She still wasn’t looking at him. It didn’t matter. He was in her heart. If Tristan knew nothing else, he knew that much. Riley turned her head, meeting his gaze, and stealing his breath. Her eyes shone with such rage. He didn’t know how she contained it. “The moment I saw you, I was so goddamn furious. I’ve never been so fucking angry in my whole life, because you exist. You are everything good about the world. Life had never been as unfair as it was in the instant I realized what I could never have. That I will never get to say I own you.”

  For the first time Tristan truly grasped the magnitude of Riley’s pain. He finally understood what he’d seen in her eyes after they’d made love and he’d shown an ounce of regret—he’d made her fears a reality. There was nothing he could say that would undo that moment, but he could make sure it didn’t happen twice.

  “Spend the night with me.” Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. Good. He enjoyed her shock. An off-kilter Riley was an unthinking Riley. “I can’t make you stay,” he added, when she didn’t immediately shut him down. “I could beg. Trust me. I really want to beg, but I know I can’t compete with someone like Graham.” She snorted, making him smile.

  “It’s obvious you haven’t met him.”

  He chose to ignore her statement, since any response he dredged up would—most likely—be a lie.

  “Give me tonight.”

  “Tristan, I…”

  “Just come inside. Think of this as carrying that first basket of clothes to your car. You can turn back at any time, pretending it didn’t happen.”

  Riley stood. Tristan held his breath. There was an excruciating moment where he wondered if she’d bolt. Instead, Riley opened the door, letting herself inside. He forced his feet to follow at a slower pace. The last thing Tristan wanted was to spook her.

  The sound of the door closing behind them, shutting out the rest of the world, caused something to snap inside Tristan. He followed in Riley’s footsteps as she inspected each room. He was stalking her. It was beyond his control. The nervous twisting of her fingers was the only indication she gave of the tension in the air. At the doorway of his bedroom, she froze. Following the line of her gaze, he realized she was staring at the bed. Good. She already knew where they were headed.

  “I know my timing sucks.” He just didn’t care.

  At his admission, Riley switched her attention to him. Her eyebrows rose in question. “For what?”
/>   “To make a confession,” he answered as he crowded her space. Snagging her waist, he hauled her into his arms. “I should’ve never let you believe that I could let you go. I’m a man before I’m anything,” he said before capturing her lips. Riley didn’t protest as Tristan maneuvered her toward the bed.

  He ate at her mouth, incapable of taking things slow. Every ounce of desire and longing that had been building since she’d come to town, rushed to the surface. He wasn’t going to stop. Even as Riley’s back hit the mattress, and he braced his palms on either side of her head, a sense of rightness fell over him. The warm body pressed beneath him was his salvation. Without Riley, everything he stood for was pointless. There’d be no rest until he owned her.

  His jeans loosened. Cool air touched his erection before the heat of Riley’s palm encircled it. He growled. The sound left his lips without his permission. Lost in a haze of lust, Tristan didn’t realize his hand was buried beneath her skirt and he was tugging her panties down, until Riley shifted to accommodate him. The goal of getting inside her became a mindless act. His emotions were in control while his body was on autopilot.

  Tristan pulled away long enough to tug his shirt over his head and rip away her panties. He didn’t bother removing any more clothes. Instead, he chose to shove her dress up her waist and dove between her legs. Riley’s pussy was freshly waxed and gleamed with desire. His mouth filled with water in anticipation of her taste. Her nether lips parted under the pressure of his tongue. His scalp stung as Riley buried her fingers in his hair, attempting to pull him closer. Her hips left the bed, moving closer to his mouth.

  Finding the tiny bud that brought her so much pleasure, he teased it with the lightest pressure, making her squirm. The harder she fought to force him to give her what she wanted, the lighter his touch became until he was barely flicking his tongue over her clit. Her nails scored his back.

 

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