Finch (Kindred #6)

by Scarlett Finn

  Her concern became less for their safety and more for his reputation. “I thought Syn were coming.”

  “For now, you’re safe,” he said, “but you have to be quick. I only got a heads-up because PR called Cedric for comment. No one knew I was in the city today except you and Bess. My guys are only maybe five minutes ahead of the press choppers. I want to make sure you’re gone by the time they get there.”

  Garnering her determination, she began to think about getting out of here. “I’ll be ready.”

  “Don’t worry about stuff,” he said. “No one will get into the house. It’s illegal for them to set foot on the land and the building is secure. I can get you anything you need here.”

  The place that had been her sanctuary was under threat, and it felt wrong to abandon it. But she wouldn’t argue with Zave’s logic, it was superior to hers. There were practical concerns that left her at a loss. “Where will we stay?”

  This was Zave’s only home, as far as she knew, and Brodie’s place was too far away. They couldn’t risk dragging the media there anyway. So the only other place she knew was where Bess was staying and that made her uneasy.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said.

  “I don’t know how I feel about Thad’s apartment,” she said, making sure he knew about her misgivings upfront.

  He bowed lower over his linked fingers to get closer to the screen. “Shy, we’ll stay wherever you’re going to be happy. You don’t have to go near Thad’s place. I’ll get you a hotel or an apartment of your own. You want a house or a cabin in the woods? Anything you want. Just get upstairs and get into the chopper, you only have a few minutes.”

  He would take care of everything, she didn’t have to ask questions or worry, she just had to follow his instructions. “Yes, sure,” she said, leaping up.

  “Petri will be the one to get you.” It was nice that Zave had sent someone she was familiar with as opposed to a stranger, that was considerate. “He’ll say, ‘Are you ready to move, Mrs. K?’ You say, yes. Then you leave. If there’s a problem or you need to go back into the house, you tell him that you’ve forgotten your keys.”

  Devon hadn’t had keys since she had an apartment before she was taken months ago. “I don’t have keys,” she said.

  “It’s code,” he said, probably amused by her stupidity. “He won’t actually think that you have keys or that you’ve forgotten them.”

  “Sure,” she said, embarrassed by her idiocy, but her mind wasn’t on common sense, it was on the hungry media desperate to descend on her and shatter what little peace she had.

  With a quiet breath, he softened. “Shy, don’t panic, sweetheart. I’ll look after you. All you have to do is get on that chopper with Petri.”

  Devon had the time to gather what she would need in the city. Zave likely wouldn’t be coming back. “Is there anything you need?” she asked. “I’ll throw some things in a bag. If you need clothes or—”

  “No luggage,” he said. “You can bring one bag, don’t go hunting for suitcases. We’ll get you clothes, paper, pencils, whatever you need, Shy. We’ll get it here. You bring only what can’t be replaced.”

  There wasn’t really anything like that, she’d learned not to get too attached to material things. Other than her rings. She was attached to those, but she was already wearing them. “Should I do anything? Turn anything off or—”

  “I can access all the systems from here,” he said. “They’re going to bring you to me, so I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Just keep your head down.”

  So much for her looking after him; he was doing all the heavy lifting again. “Ok. Are you sure there’s nothing you need? Nothing you’re working on in the lab that you need me to bring?”

  Perhaps just to appease her, he gave her a task. “Under the bed,” he said. “You’ll find a black leather box. The combination is your birthday. Bring me what you find in there.”

  “Ok,” she said, crowding closer to touch the image of his face with her fingertips. “I love you.”

  “Get moving,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

  The screen went black and instead of focusing on his lack of a response to her declaration, Devon jumped into action. Running upstairs, she grabbed the couple of pieces that she was working on and stuffed them into a tote she found in the closet. Shoving some underwear and toiletries in there, too, she brought her birth control pills, as well. Even if he said he was going to replace things, she would need enough to get her through the night.

  Hurrying to the lab, knowing the helicopter must be close to landing, Devon snagged a few of Zave’s things from the bathroom that she found on his curved, tower staircase, and then went up to his bedroom to retrieve what he’d asked for.

  Pulling it out, she heard a chime overhead but looked around and saw nothing. Except the way this house was wired, the chime could mean just about anything. It could mean there was someone at the door waiting for her. Yanking the box out the rest of the way, she put in the combination and threw it open ready to scoop out whatever she discovered inside.

  But her hand paused when she saw what was in there. The box that was lined with cushioned purple satin contained an intimate selection. “My toys,” she whispered.

  The chime came again, and there was no more time for her to waste on analyzing what it meant that the only thing Zave wanted from the house that they were abandoning were the toys he’d crafted for her pleasure. Bundling everything up, including a little black leather book from the bottom, she put the items in her bag and shoved the box back beneath the bed.

  Rushing out, she went to his closet to grab a couple of items of the lingerie she’d bought, and then on hearing the chime again, Devon snatched one of his jackets and pulled it on over her clothes. Tossing the strap of the back over her shoulder, she ran to the front door.

  It probably took her a good three minutes to get through the house, and by the time she got there and opened it, there was no doubt that there was somebody there. The chime had been insistent on her journey, and when she got within earshot, she heard a strong hand banging on the solid wood of the door. The blunt, thumping sound echoed through the cavern of the entryway, making her speed up.

  Ashamed that she’d kept him waiting, Devon was also impressed that the house was so secure. Not even those who were allowed to get in could manage it.

  She opened the door to Petri. “Sorry,” she said.

  “Are you ready to move, Mrs. K?”

  And then she remembered what Zave had said. Devon had done everything she had to and she couldn’t afford to delay anymore. “Yes.”

  Petri gathered her under his arm. Devon made sure the door was shut tight and was surprised that he kept her so close to his side as they walked away from the front door. She was about to comment that it was inappropriate for him to be holding her like this because it made her uncomfortable, and then a low flying helicopter whooshed past them.

  Ducking her head into his chest, she figured out that he was protecting her, not only her physical being, but her privacy, as well. Devon followed him around the house to the side of the island where the helipad was, and she climbed onboard the KC emblazoned helicopter.

  It probably wasn’t smart that the vehicle she was getting into basically signposted who she was. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she was happy to sit at the back of the craft with her eyes closed as they ascended.

  Devon didn’t want to see the choppers circling the island that she thought of as home. She didn’t want to see the boats ripping through the ocean she’d come to love and drawn in awe. It felt wrong that these strangers were tarnishing the place that she thought of as pure. Even Jennifer hadn’t been able to take that feeling away from Devon, and it sickened her that these people were trying to make her feel unsafe in a place she trusted.

  Two hours was a long time when you were constantly bobbing and weaving through other aircraft who were trying to get pictures. All Devon wanted to do was be with Zave, that would b
e the only thing that could make her feel safe again.

  Devon had to know how they were going to handle this and when they were going back to the island. She wanted everything to go back to the way it had been. So many things had changed, with Thad and Syn and Bess leaving the island, that maybe they would never be able to recreate those perfect days when she’d thought her future was bright.

  Those doubts were why she needed to get to Zave, because he’d help her see clearly when he showed her that he had everything under control. The last thing Devon felt right now was in control, and it wasn’t pleasant to feel so messed up.

  Each labored second was one closer to KC and her lord. So she’d sit tight and hope that when she got there, Zave would already have a plan.

  NINE

  On getting to the KC building, Petri jumped out to retrieve her before the rotors had stopped. There were more restrictions in city airspace, but Devon was sure some of the media would be exempt or have permission to fly around here. So she was happy to run into the building, squashed into Petri’s side, in the same way she had left the manor on the island.

  The room that she’d had an intimate Kindred meeting in yesterday was teeming with people today. The office was artificially lit because there were screens over each of the windows, blacking them out, like there had never been glass there at all. It now looked like a fourth wall that hadn’t been here yesterday, but it was preferable today. The shades were so large that she couldn’t imagine maintenance having them lying around in storage, but the lack of windows wasn’t important.

  Devon had come rushing down here with Petri and her expectation had been that she’d find her lord, and she had. Zave was standing behind the desk, holding a bundle of papers. The surface of the desk was white with other sheets, and everyone in the room was talking at once.

  Those crowded around the desk wanted Zave’s attention. Those standing beyond were talking to each other, and the ones around the conference table were quite animated about whatever they were trying to decide.

  The din was reminiscent of her first nights in her metal box. Devon closed her palms over her ears, trying to block out the noise. Petri stood just behind her in the open office door. He pushed her forward a step, but she resisted.

  “No,” Devon gasped, and although she would say she hadn’t been loud enough to be heard over the susurration, Zave’s attention snapped around to fixate on her.

  “Everybody out,” he called.

  No one hesitated to comply with his stern command. Petri put her just inside the door and used his body to shield her from the people funneling from inside to outside the office.

  When everyone was gone, Petri glanced at the desk. “Sir.”

  “Thank you. You can go too.” Petri didn’t question Zave either. He just stepped outside and pulled the door closed. “I didn’t know you still felt that way,” Zave said, but the words were muffled and it took her a moment to realize that her hands were still pressed to her ears.

  Self-conscious about her insecurity, Devon lowered them to smooth out her top and jeans, trying to be casual. “Sorry. It was just loud.”

  “And it brought back a memory?” he asked, putting down the papers to come round the desk toward her. “Of your first nights with the cartel?”

  Devon felt silly and didn’t want him coming over to soothe her like a child upset by an insignificant boo-boo. But he’d seen her do the same thing with her hands on her ears when she first recounted her abduction to him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are the media scrambling around the island? Why did you call it Syn’s opening gambit?”

  Zave came all the way over, curled one hand around the side of her neck, and took her hand in the other. “We think they’re trying to prove a point,” he said, guiding her toward the couch they’d sat on together the previous day. “They didn’t go straight for the jugular and get the law involved. They hyped up the story of our marriage, sent it out to the wires, and now the press think there’s something to report.”

  “What? What do they want to report?” she asked. “We’re married. Why is that a big deal?”

  His head tilted because he knew she wasn’t that naïve. “I’ve been locked away on the island for nearly ten years. If the press got wind of me coming back to the office, as I have been, they’d have made a story out of it. This is bigger. They want to know what brought the business world’s most famous hermit out of his shell.”

  She sighed and collapsed against the back of the couch. “And now they found out that you have yourself a bride too. And as far as they’re concerned, you didn’t go on a lot of dates on your private island.”

  “Something like that,” he said, propping an elbow on the back of the couch. He sort of curled around her as he stroked her outer thigh, opposite where he sat. “When else do you feel unsafe?”

  “Let’s not talk about that,” she said, slipping her hands between his jacket and his shirt to rub his chest. He hadn’t been this dressed up this morning when he left the house. Being a CEO of a multibillion dollar company, it probably wasn’t difficult to ask someone to get him a suit.

  “You should talk to someone about it.”

  “I used to talk to Bess,” she admitted, fingering his lapel. “Even this morning she was comforting me. When her whole world is imploding, she’s still worried about me.”

  “She can’t help it. Caring is what drives her.”

  “How was she when you left her at Thad’s? Did she find any message there?”

  He shook his head. “I went through every room first in case he’d booby trapped the place. It’s not unusual for people who don’t plan to return to their homes to do that.”

  “He would’ve known that Bess might go back there.”

  “Which is probably why he didn’t set any traps,” Zave said, tracing the back of his fingers from her cheekbone, over her ear, and into her hair. He did it again, and the soothing motion made her edge closer to him and turn her head to rest her opposite temple near his supporting arm.

  “I feel like it hasn’t been just us for weeks,” she whispered, although it had only been a few days and they’d stolen a few seconds together last night and this morning.

  “We haven’t been alone since our wedding night,” he murmured, and she wanted to remind him that that was his fault because he’d barred her from going to his bed last night.

  But when Devon let her weighted eyelids peek open to see the drowsy desire in his, her motivation to chastise him fled. “We were planning to be part of a dangerous mission,” she said. “But sharing that bed with you in the motel, I was content.”

  “What are you now?”

  That was probably a dangerous thing to ask because she didn’t know how alone they were. This room had been filled with people just a minute before. For all she knew, any one of those people could walk back in at any second.

  But her hand carried on north until her fingers coiled their way to the back of his neck and then she pulled him down because kissing him would erase this panic. It would make her forget all the terrifying parts of their lives.

  When he didn’t resist or reject her mouth, Devon was content with him again. Kissing Zave, her husband, in this fully-lit office was exactly what she was supposed to be doing right now, in this minute. His tongue wasn’t insistent; it didn’t seem to be pushing for more. But when his palm pressed to her breast to massage her through her clothes, she arched into the advance and whimpered.

  She would let him take this as far as he wanted to. Being caught in an intimate clinch would embarrass her, but she’d told him that, as his wife, it was her job to fulfil his needs, and if this was what he needed, she wouldn’t reject him.

  For the first time probably since he’d known her, she was wearing jeans that limited his access to anything beneath her hips. Rubbing her hand up his thigh, Devon discovered how eager he was to take this further.

  So, loosening his slacks, she liberated the hard urgency of his cock. Although
his mouth was content to keep their oral joining slow, his hand was enjoying its quality time with her breasts. Devon wanted to seize this opportunity to be bold. He’d been closing down, shutting her out, and Devon feared that meant a return to an embargo on physical contact.

  When she grabbed his dick, he didn’t pull away. Maybe he’d learned that she could help him release his tension, even if it was just for a few carnal minutes with a superficial physical relief. Removing her top as she sank to her knees between his feet, she unhooked her bra and stayed high on her knees to take both of his hands to clasp one around each breast.

  “Devon, a kiss is one thing,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.

  The mischief in her smile was fooling no one. “That’s all I want. A kiss.”

  After pumping her hand up and down his shaft a few times, she lowered and bent to kiss his head. It was a kiss. A long, slow, right down the back of her throat type of kiss and one that she’d been desperate to enjoy for a while.

  He’d never let her do this, not all the way. Zave let her explore just enough of his dick with her mouth to let her believe he was being open with her and giving her what she needed. Devon knew that he held back, and for a man who believed punishment was all he deserved, it was a massive achievement for him to let her give him any pleasure.

  His groan was enough to drive her on, and she sucked him deeper. His dick was long and wide, and she wasn’t particularly practiced, so she used her hands to make sure all of him was stimulated. When her mouth needed a rest, she fondled his balls and pushed his head into her cheek and kept working him with her hand.

  When Devon noticed that his eyes were closed and his head resting on the back of the couch, she pulled her mouth free. “Look at me,” she whispered. “I want you to know who’s with you.”

  He lifted his head and through his own arousal, she read curiosity. “Who else would be with me?” he asked, stroking her face. “Who else would be this generous?”