101 Nights Box Set: Volume One
Page 21
Is she?
If she somehow were, wouldn’t she jump at the chance to expand our agreement from three months to a year or whenever I feel the need to terminate it?
In all my relationships and alliances with women, I’ve never had the desire to understand one of them, beyond being certain she wasn’t trying to get pregnant or take my money. George catches these kinds of women when he vets them. That leaves me free to enjoy their bodies without consequences, fucking and showing them how to pleasure me until I’m too exhausted to move.
Beyond physical satiation, I’ve never cared about anything else concerning a woman I was fucking. With Natalie, it’s different, maybe because I’m exclusive and she’s nothing like any other woman I’ve ever had in my life. I get as much pleasure from watching her come as I do from climaxing myself, if not more from knowing what I can do to her.
This is already too complicated for me. I want to go back to just fucking.
“EJ,” Natalie says softly. “You’ll take care of the designers when our time is up?”
I glance at her.
“Call it a personal favor to me.”
It’s hard to say no. She never asks for anything. George and I laughed for five minutes when we realized the sole charge she’d made on her credit card in the month we’ve been together was less than five dollars. She’s with a billionaire and spends five bucks?
“Please, Master.”
I taught her that trick, too. If she really wants something outside of bed, suck my dick or call me Master. It’s hard for me to say no to either of those two things. “Very well,” I agree.
“Thank you.” She smiles up at me.
“It’s not a problem, considering you’re not going anywhere soon.”
Her smile turns to a scowl, accompanied by a glare.
I’ve won this round but will let her play her game. I’m curious to hear what someone like her will ask for when she finally decides to name her price. I can’t see her asking for money or jewelry or property … any of the things most people in her position would ask for.
In fact, I can’t remotely guess what she’ll want, and that fascinates me. We are too different for me to understand how she thinks. Will she have me set up a new charity? Buy her father a medical clinic?
She moves away from me to shake hands with the designers who are packing up to leave. I watch, pleased with her progress. Before the gala, I was concerned she’d be too scared to go out in public again. Some of that fear lingers. She’s a good two meters away from me but glances at me frequently, as if to be certain I’m still here. For now, I’m content to be her safety blanket, just like I’m satisfied by how much bolder she’s gotten with the public and strangers. She’s natural with people, and they gravitate towards her.
Her hands no longer tremble when she meets people, and she’s looking them in the eye, even smiling. The shimmer of vulnerability or maybe just innocence is still present. Combined with her warm smile and soft voice, it charms people in a way I never will. Even Jamil is starting to like her. I know he’s never had anyone in the household ask him how his day was before, and I’m pleased she took the time to teach him how to use his new phone. The damn blank text bubbles he used to send me and pocket dialing were getting really annoying.
“She’s much improved,” George says. Silent as always, he pauses beside me. My head of security and closest friend is a walking contradiction. He speaks with the cultured English accent of the British elite and moves efficiently and quickly like the former Special Forces soldier he was.
“That she is.”
“Still rarely talking to Alisha. But I found something you’ll want to see.” George passes me his iPad. “I hacked into Natalie’s email, per your instructions.”
He’s got an email opened. It’s from Alisha to Natalie, sent the day after the gala two weeks ago.
Kallista King
Dayton, Ohio
My heart slows, and my pride deflates. I can’t believe what I’m reading. How could anyone figure this out? I turn away from Natalie and motion for George to move away a few more feet.
“How did she get into The File?” I demand, handing the tablet back.
“I told you. Alisha is good.”
Fuck. I’m still, thinking furiously. “Has it been forwarded, printed, anything?”
“Nothing. Natalie opened it twice. Alisha’s texted a few times, but nothing of any interest. Basically asked how Natalie wants her plants taken care of and such.” George is not happy. “I checked in to make sure there are plants and it’s not code. I don’t think either of them understands what they found. I dropped by to visit Alisha again yesterday and had her show me her computer set up. She stopped digging, as you requested, and she hasn’t done anything with this information. Neither has Natalie. A few internet searches that led nowhere, but no questions to Jamil, nothing.”
I met with Alisha once last week, ostensibly to discuss my … concerns with her influence in Natalie’s life. My real fear was exactly what George just showed me: that she’d found some information of real value and passed it to Natalie, which can make my life difficult in more ways than I care to count, if Natalie decides to use it against me for some reason.
I’d like to think she’d never resort to that, and to an extent, I’m comfortable assuming she’s one of the few people on the planet who wouldn’t expose my secret, especially if she understood the significance of those four words.
Then again – she’s not on my extremely short list of people I trust. She’s a good person and nice, but what if she understood one of the reasons I’m asking about her staying in my life permanently? That I am still debating knocking her up, so my father can’t disinherit me? What would she do with the information contained in The File out of anger or vengeance?
As for Alisha … the two couldn’t be more different. I’m not certain how they’re friends at all. Alisha is the kind of woman I’ve never been attracted to with a temper she doesn’t control, a natural paranoia and distrust of men that probably means she was abused somewhere along the way, and the self-righteousness to accuse me of trying to set her up in some bizarre conspiracy ramble, when she’s the one digging up shit like this.
“Of everything I’ve hidden, why this?” I vent quietly to George.
“Because it was the hardest to get to. At least, that’s why I would’ve targeted it.”
“So they dug up something, don’t realize how important it is, then just drop it,” I summarize.
“Alisha knows she’s under observation. I’ve got the leverage I need to keep her in check for a while. I’m not sure why Natalie stopped.” George’s grey eyes return to the screen. “I’ve already taken measures to fix the holes Alisha found.”
“I trust you, George,” I say, aware of how good he is at what he does. If Alisha found a way in once, she never will again. “Just to be careful, I’m going to Dayton.”
“New location, new identity,” George says. “I’ll arrange your transportation and security then send out the decoys this evening. You will want to go tomorrow, I assume?”
“Yes. Is that enough time for you to have new IDs made?”
“I’ll make it work.” George gives me a charming smile.
I nod curtly. My most important secret, and the people who discovered it have no idea what they’ve found. I’m one lucky bastard.
Not that it matters. In two days, there will be no record of Kallista King ever existing, and she definitely won’t be anywhere near Dayton, Ohio.
“Thanks, George.” I force myself to relax, knowing it’ll be taken care of in a matter of hours.
“Careful. There’s still something about Natalie neither of us is able to pin down,” George advises.
He’s right, in a way. His experience, position and training lend his thinking to assume the worst about people and situations. I don’t think Natalie’s secrets are anywhere near what George imagines, but I also know that we can’t verify that. Naturally hating surprises, mysterie
s and change, George is still stuck on the three months in Natalie’s life where she simply disappeared.
How the fuck did they find Kallista? Natalie asked Alisha to dig up dirt on me, probably to use as leverage down the road. It’s never a good sign when someone does that, even if my gut tells me Natalie doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body. She wants the information for some reason.
Whenever I feel myself moving closer to her, I find a reason to backpedal quickly.
“Natalie’s been researching a lot of information about Nijala,” George adds. “That’s about it for her online activities.”
“Interesting,” I murmur. George doesn’t know about the three-month deal of ours. Which is why I’m intrigued as to why she wants to know about my home after her insistence that this temporary deal will end soon.
George moves away, and I turn to find Natalie with my gaze. She’s not where I expect to see her. I scour my surroundings.
To my surprise, she looks like she’s in the middle of an argument. Or at least, like she’s upset. Her features are red while the man with her seems much calmer. I recognize him, though I’m not sure from where. My first instinct is that he’s from the press. I know he wasn’t on the invitee list. Members of the media are experts at getting into places like these, and there are a few repeat offenders I’ve met with personally to prevent them from returning.
Or is it another secret of hers? Whatever he’s saying, it’s eliciting a reaction from her that makes me think she knows him. He wasn’t in her file; that much I know. Not an ex-boyfriend or on her friends list. Not media. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s Nijalan by his coloring and the way he talks with his hands.
It bothers me to see her upset. I catch the eye of the nearest member of my security detail and motion him towards the intruder. George’s men are more than capable of handling someone like this.
Content to leave the issue up to the security team, I freeze when the stranger snatches Natalie’s arm hard enough for her to wince.
Seeing her upset is one thing. Witnessing someone hurt her …
My body is tense enough to hurt. I can’t control my physical reaction to seeing someone grab her or the flash of rage that accompanies it.
No one fucks with what’s mine, especially not my Natalie. Seeing her in trouble reminds me of my sister Layla, when I discovered the bruises on her arms and immediately knew who gave them to her. The unwelcome flashback infuriates me more.
Not then. Not now.
I start towards Natalie and the stranger.
My first response to a challenge is to negotiate until someone is begging me to leave them be. But George was my protector in school. Always obsessed with martial arts, he drilled me daily for about five years. I won’t win a fight with someone like George, who’s a master, but I can hold my own.
I had to learn, because it was more than myself in danger. I had to learn for Layla, too.
“Everything all right, Natalie?” I ask calmly, approaching with a swift stride.
Her eyes are wide when she looks at me.
The man releases her. He’s tall with dark hair and eyes and bronze skin. I can’t place him, but it strikes me that he’s not dressed like any member of the press I’ve seen sneak into one of my events. He’s wearing an expensive suit, for one, custom made, if I had to guess. He’s got an athlete’s body beneath the suit and a close-cropped haircut.
I reach out to her, and she closes the distance between us quickly. I start to calm when her body is against mine and fold her into my arms protectively.
“Excuse me,” the man says and turns, hurrying away.
“Get his name and pic,” I tell the security team member who joins us. “Then turn the info over to George.”
A brisk nod, and one of George’s men is trotting after the stranger. I watch them both disappear through a door.
Natalie’s hands are trembling, her breathing uneven. I don’t correct her when she reaches for me without permission.
“What was that about?” I ask.
She’s quiet, her grip around me tight.
“Farasha?” I ask with some impatience and meet her gaze. “What did he want?”
“I don’t really know,” she says, troubled and worried. Her look at me is a long one. I’m not sure how to read it.
“Who was he?”
“I’ve never seen him before, Elijah.” Her features are too open for her to be lying.
“Well, what did he say?”
She ducks her face and presses her forehead to my shoulder, too many emotions crossing her features for me to guess what this might’ve been about.
“We’ll talk in the car,” I say firmly. Whatever that exchange was about, it had to be personal, if he put his hands on her. Someone doesn’t do that to a complete stranger. “You will tell me everything he said.” I’m feeling doubly angry right now. Not only did some strange man touch my Natalie, but she doesn’t want to tell me what’s going on.
It’s not a good sign, and I begin to reconsider George’s warning. Natalie has secrets, ones neither George nor I can figure out.
Secrets are always – always – bad news.
Chapter Three: Natalie
Elijah is pissed. I’m not sure if it’s at me for not wanting to talk to him about it or about some stranger crashing one of his private events. I’ll never forget the way he looked at the stranger, though, like an angry animal about to pounce on a challenger trying to steal his dinner. Always calm on the outside, I know how much fire rages inside him.
And I kind of like the way he’s holding me, like he’s concerned, though I should probably be running for the exit if what the stranger said about EJ is true.
He motions for Maya to clean up the table full of drawings and photographs while walking with me out of the conference room. His keeps me tucked against his lean frame. I’m too deep in thought to notice our passage through the hallways and out the back of the building to the limo that awaits us in an alley that barely seems wide enough for it.
I can’t get what the stranger said out of my mind. I didn’t expect the mysterious texter to show up here, in the middle of one Elijah’s carefully planned events. How did he get by security? How did he get close enough to grab me?
“Then this is the last time I’ll try to convince you how bad it’ll end for you, if you stay with him,” he’d said. The veiled threat was gone. This time, he was more direct.
Yet this, and claiming Elijah is cheating, seems like the least concerning of my issues. A few things I hadn’t put together click into place. My disappearing birth control pills. The fact Maya – Elijah’s cousin and assistant – allegedly can’t get me more.
The sudden decision for Elijah wanting to keep me around longer.
The stranger’s claim about Elijah’s father telling him he needs an heir was so absurd, I almost laughed, until I started thinking about it more.
The limo door yawns open. I blink out of my stupor and climb in.
Elijah slides in and sits opposite me. I miss the warmth and strength of his body, but right now, I’ve got to figure out if I should be anywhere near him, if the mysterious texter who’s pegged him so well, is actually right.
“Start talking,” Elijah orders me.
“EJ, why did you pick a year for our deal?” I ask, trying to understand what the hell I just heard. “What’s the significance?”
“You didn’t seem interested in negotiating for indefinite.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his sharp gaze on my features.
His anger scares me a little. I know how calculating and thorough he is when calm. I don’t ever want to find out how cunning he can be when he’s upset. I’m trying to think about what to tell him and how, without revealing my secret about the texts I’ve been receiving.
“What did he say to upset you?” he asks again. He hands me a bottle of water.
Aside from threatening my life? I accept it, the cold bottle helping me focus outside my mind again.
Elijah’s gaze turns from angry to sharp, his attention solely on me.
“He brought up the Axis and Allies game and how we’ve never played it.” I flush. It’s so stupid that a silly game means anything to me. It was a gift from Elijah after the gala, one he seemed to want to play with me, before he inexplicably froze me out the next day.
I was actually looking forward to spending the time with him.
The mystery texter used where the game was located in our bedroom to prove his point about having great enough access to me to make sure I leave Elijah, even if it means by force.
“That’s not possible.” Elijah is frowning fiercely.
“It gets weirder,” I say. I lick my lips and hesitate, uncertain how to say this next part. Not only does this stranger’s intimate knowledge scare me, but he also blew my mind with this next tidbit. “Elijah, the cleaning crew tossed my pills the other day and Maya has been stalling me about getting new ones. This guy says things like this are happening, because your father has issued an edict that you need an heir before he’ll give you the throne and you’re going to ...” I can’t even say it.
Apparently, I don’t have to.
Elijah is surprised. Not the kind of alarm I expect from a man who is trying to figure out a horrible falsehood, but the look of a man who knows he’s just had some great secret uncovered.
I search his gaze, and my whole world feels like it’s going to crack.
“Elijah,” I whisper. “Tell me you aren’t the kind of man who would do that. Tell me you didn’t toss my pills or set me up or whatever it is this guy is saying.”