by I. T. Lucas
“I appreciate the sentiment, but he’s in a prison cell, guarded by Guardians. You can’t get to him.”
He dropped the egg mixture into the sizzling pan. “I have the right to retribution. I can demand to be allowed in his cell.” As he turned to look at her, his fangs were showing. “I can help with the interrogation.”
“That’s so sweet of you, but Emmett didn’t hurt me.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You were alone with him, and since you were immune to his compulsion, he had to overpower you to lock you up.”
Damn. Greggory was smarter than he looked, and he'd cornered her.
“He’s freakishly strong.” Eleanor eyed the large knife in Greggory’s hand and wondered whether it was a good idea to confess while he was holding a weapon.
“Tell me what he did.” He started chopping the sausages into small bites.
His tone implied that he already knew, which shouldn’t really surprise her. The Guardians were a bunch of busybodies, and the rumor about the strange immortal who had a bloodsucking fetish had probably spread out, reaching as far as Kalugal’s office building downtown.
“You’ve probably already heard, so why are you asking?”
“Because I want to hear the details from you.”
“He bit me and sucked on my blood. I tried to fight him off, but he was incredibly strong. I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was locked in the bedroom.”
Greggory paused his chopping and pinned her with a hard stare. “Did he force you to have sex with him?”
“No. Other than hold me down for the bite, he didn’t touch me.”
“So why do you look so guilty?”
Damn. She’d thought she was a better actress than that.
“You know the effect of a venom bite. I couldn’t help it, but I felt awful about it nonetheless.”
“You orgasmed.”
“It’s a chemical reaction, Greggory. I had no control over it.” She frowned. “Why do you look so pissed?”
Shaking his head, he dropped the knife on the cutting board. “I need to calm down. Watch the eggs.” He stormed out the door without giving her a second glance.
What was his damn problem?
She hadn’t even admitted her attraction to Emmett, and Greggory was pissed already?
Talk about possessive and irrational. Perhaps Emmett had been right about those feelings being evil.
But what if Greggory’s anger wasn’t directed at her? Maybe he was enraged by what Emmett had done to her and needed to cool down?
Yeah. That was probably the reason he’d stormed out.
Greggory wasn’t hotheaded, which was one of the many things she liked about him. He was easy to be with, she trusted him, and for that, she was willing to compromise. So what if he didn’t light up her fire like Emmett had done? Who needed that kind of out-of-control lust?
Not her.
She could live without it and never miss it.
Liar.
Okay, so she might miss it a little, and maybe even fantasize about it from time to time, but it certainly wasn’t worth giving up her relationship with Greggory for.
But then a small voice in the back of her head whispered a warning. If Greggory’s anger was indeed directed at her, she shouldn’t stick around. As far as he knew, she’d been forced, and to blame the victim was lower than low.
It was like in those awful places where they whipped the rape victims to death instead of the rapists.
She wouldn’t tolerate being accused, judged, and sentenced by a vengeful, self-entitled male.
Should she even wait for him to come back and explain?
Turning the stove off, Eleanor removed the pan from the burner and put it aside.
Her appetite was gone, and she didn’t feel like waiting for Greggory to return. If he wanted to explain his behavior, he knew where to find her.
14
Lokan
“Here it is.” The Uber driver stopped next to the Airbnb. “Do you need help getting everything inside?”
“I’d appreciate it. Thank you.” Lokan opened the door and stepped out.
The house Turner had rented was located in a quiet residential neighborhood, and as Lokan opened the door, he approved of Turner’s selection even though the place was far from fancy. The furniture looked new, and everything was spotless.
“Where do you want me to put all this stuff?” the driver asked.
“On the dining room table.” Lokan pointed.
When the guy was done delivering all the shopping bags, Lokan tipped him in cash, locked the door behind him, and started unpacking his purchases.
For his rendezvous with Carol, he’d flown from Washington to Lexington, where he’d boarded another flight to Little Rock, and from there a third one to Wichita.
With all the stop-overs, the trip had taken over eight hours. It might have been overkill, but he wasn’t taking any chances where Carol was concerned.
Turner had arranged everything, including fake documentation for each leg of the trip. Carol had a similarly convoluted itinerary and was scheduled to arrive at the rental a couple of hours later, which gave Lokan enough time to prepare for romance.
They had been dream-sharing nightly, and during those dreams, he’d taken her to every romantic destination he could think of, but there was no substitute for the real thing, and he wanted to make sure that their weekend in Wichita would be no less exciting.
On the way to the rental, Lokan had the Uber driver stop at the top restaurant to pick up the gourmet meals he’d preordered for the weekend, and then at a flower shop to pick up several bouquets of flowers and a bunch of aromatic candles.
Then on the spur of the moment, he’d asked the guy to take him to a jewelry store, where he’d picked up an engagement ring, or rather a placeholder for the better one that he was going to get Carol later.
He should have planned better and bought a proper ring in Washington, where the selection was better and finding a diamond larger than two carats wasn’t a problem. But it hadn’t occurred to him until the saleslady in the flower shop had asked him what occasion he was buying the flowers and the candles for. When he’d told her that he was planning a romantic dinner for his girlfriend, she’d asked if he was going to propose, planting the idea in his head.
Once the vases were filled with flowers, the candles lit, and the table set, Lokan sat down on the couch and opened the small jewelry box.
Should he go through with it?
The ring was pretty, but it wasn’t good enough for his princess, and he felt bad about proposing to her with such a modest offering.
There was no rush, and he could wait until he had a proper ring.
As he heard a car stop in front of the house, he put the box down on the coffee table and went to open the door.
The moment she saw him, Carol threw the passenger door open, flew out of the car, and flung herself at him. “I missed you, big boy.”
Behind her, the driver cleared his throat. “Here are your suitcases, miss.” He put them down on the sidewalk.
Not letting go of Lokan, she cast him a smile over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
She still clung to him long after the car had left.
Lokan chuckled. “If you hold on tight, I can carry the suitcases and you into the house.”
“Ooh, I love it when you get all macho on me.” She tightened her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso. “I’m holding on. You can let go.”
Reluctantly, he removed his hands from her soft butt cheeks and crouched to lift the suitcases.
“Did you bring your entire wardrobe with you?” He carried her and the luggage into the house, kicking the door closed behind him.
“Pretty much. I’m not going back. I’m staying with you.”
Lokan dropped the suitcases on the floor and carried Carol to the couch.
“I wish you could, but it’s not safe.”
Ignoring his reply, her eyes zeroed in on the box he’d fo
rgotten on the coffee table. “What’s that?”
“A gift.”
Pushing out of his arms, she leaned over, grabbed the box, and opened it. “It’s lovely.” She lifted her eyes to him. “Are you proposing to me?”
“Not with this ring. It’s just something to hold you over until I get you a proper one.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” Carol took it out of the box and slid it onto her finger. “It’s perfect.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He laughed. “I haven’t proposed yet.”
“So what are you waiting for? Do it already.”
“Over dinner.” He turned them both around so she could see the dining table.
“Oh, wow, Lokan. I’m impressed. How long have you been planning this?”
“The dinner or the proposal?”
“The proposal, silly.”
“An hour. The dinner took much longer.”
Carol frowned. “What prompted it? Did you talk with anyone in the village? Did Jacki put you up to it?”
“I didn’t talk with anyone. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” He regarded her with a raised brow. “What would I have heard if I’d spoken with Jacki?”
Carol smirked. “I’d better show you.”
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out two small flasks, one with a pink bow tied to its neck, and the other with a blue one.
“What is that?”
“These are Merlin’s fertility potions. I want us to start working on a baby.”
His woman had lost her marbles.
“Now? When I have detectives trailing me, and my father is sending me to start a new center of influence in China?”
She dangled the two flasks in front of his eyes. “This is the solution. Instead of moving to China, we move into the village and start a family.”
“Tempting, but we can’t do that. Kian wants me in China as well.”
“He can send someone else. Jin would be perfect for the job. She just needs to learn Chinese.”
“Jin is a kid who doesn’t know a thing about politics and gaining influence. If she agrees to come with us, she could be helpful, but she can’t do it alone.” He rubbed her back. “Think of it as an adventure. You will be in charge of the marketing, spending Navuh’s money to promote a new fashion brand. I think you will enjoy this much more than your foodie blog.”
As she shook her head, her blond curls bounced from side to side, gliding over her cherubic cheeks. “How are we going to pull it off? Play nookie in the office?”
He waggled his brows. “We will be very dedicated to the business, spending the majority of our time working. We will practically live in the office.”
“Are you going to put a bedroom in there?”
“Of course. Do you think any of the warriors would care that I’m fooling around with the human help? I’m going to build that office space to my exact specifications, including secret passages and excellent soundproofing.”
Chewing on her lower lip, Carol nodded. “That could work. But what about a baby?”
“It will have to wait.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know, love. But time is inconsequential to us. We don’t have to give up on one dream to have another. We can have them all, just not at the same time.”
15
Margaret
“Prepare for landing,” the pilot’s voice came through the loudspeakers.
Margaret opened her eyes and yawned. She’d slept through most of the flight, which was a shame, since she would probably never fly on a private jet again.
But if that had been the codeine’s only effect, it wouldn’t have been that bad. It had also loosened her tongue, and she’d admitted to having had an opioid addiction. Thankfully, she hadn’t been totally out of it and had left out the sordid details.
If Bowen ever found out, he wouldn’t regard her with such kindness and concern in his eyes.
“How long was the flight?” She glanced out the window, but it was getting dark already, and she could hardly see anything. Surprisingly, there were only a few dots of light in the large expanse below, which was strange given how sprawling the Los Angeles metropolitan area was.
They must have been descending for a while.
“A little over an hour.” Bowen took her hand in his, the warm touch sending shivers up her spine. “How are you feeling?”
She forced a smile. “No pain.”
“Good.” He leaned back and fastened his seatbelt.
The jet touched down a moment later then slowed down quite abruptly, plastering her against the back of her seat.
After another ten minutes or so, the jet came to a full stop inside a well-illuminated hangar.
“Where are we?” Margaret asked.
“The clan’s hangar.” Bowen released his seatbelt and got up. “I’ll check if my friends are already here. I want to carry you straight to my car instead of putting you in the wheelchair first and then moving you again.”
Margaret nodded.
Did he mean 'clan' as a joke? A nickname for the big family and the business it owned?
Looking out the window, she was awed by what she was seeing. They were parked next to a larger jet, and she wondered what kind of security his firm was providing to make enough money to justify two jets and a hanger worthy of a commercial airliner.
A few moments later, Bowen returned. “The car is here.”
After collecting their belongings and handing them to Charlie, he scooped her up into his arms and carefully carried her down the steps.
She gawked as she saw a third jet parked on the other side of theirs that she hadn’t seen from the window. “Your family owns three private jets?”
“This one belongs to one of my cousins, who is a big shot stock trader. The one we flew on and the bigger one belong to the organization.” He walked over to a car that looked like a Prius but wasn’t.
Two men were standing next to it. One looked like David Beckham’s younger brother, and the other one was no less handsome.
Did the firm that Bowen worked for hire only hunks? Perhaps they were moonlighting in modeling?
The one who looked like Beckham opened the passenger door. “Hello, Margaret. I’m Jay.”
“Hi. Thanks for driving Bowen’s car over here.”
“I’m Theo.” The other one offered her his hand.
It was really awkward to do introductions while being held in Bowen’s arms.
“Nice to meet you both.”
After easing her into the seat, Bowen turned to his friends. “Did you get everything I asked for?”
“Your suitcase and the baby monitor are in the trunk,” Theo said.
A baby monitor?
“And here are the cellphones you asked for.” Jay handed him two small boxes. “They are already configured for Margaret and Anastasia. William wrote their names on the bottom, so you will know which is whose.”
“Thank you.” He turned around and handed her one of the white boxes.
A lump formed in Margaret’s throat. She’d never owned a cellphone and didn’t even know how to use it.
“Why did you get me a phone?”
“Because you need one. What if there is an emergency, and there is no one near you?”
She clutched it to her chest. “I’ve never had one. You’ll have to teach me how to use it.”
He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his handsome face. “How long have you been in Safe Haven?”
“From before cellphones became a thing.”
Theo leaned across to smile at her. “It was nice meeting you, Margaret. But we need to head back home. Enjoy your stay at the cabin.”
“Thank you.”
Jay waved goodbye, and the two walked toward the hangar’s open doors.
“Here are the last four bags.” Charlie opened the back passenger door and put the shopping bags in.
“Thank you.” Bowen clapped him on the back. “I ow
e you for this.”
“You bet.” The pilot smiled at Margaret. “Speedy recovery, pretty lady.” He saluted her and pivoted on his heel.
16
Leon
“They are here.” Anastasia threw open the door and ran out.
Leon followed her with much less enthusiasm. Margaret and Bowen’s arrival officially marked the end of their romantic vacation and introduced another variable of shit that could go wrong.
Bowen was okay, but Leon had a feeling that Anastasia’s friend was going to be a busybody, not because he knew anything about her, but because she would have nothing better to do.
Not that it would have been much better if the woman was a saint and stayed in her room the entire time.
The cabin was small, the walls were not as well insulated and soundproofed as those in the village, and Anastasia was a screamer.
He loved that she let go with him and wasn’t shy about expressing her pleasure. Now she would have to be more reserved, and he could forget about feeding her naked in the dining room.
Bowen rounded the car and smiled at them before opening the passenger door.
The woman sitting inside the car loosely matched Anastasia’s description, but she was even more gaunt and emaciated than he’d expected. She looked fragile, and her expression was soft and apologetic.
No wonder she’d triggered Bowen’s protective instincts. That also explained why the guy had asked so many questions concerning the food supply in the cabin. He was planning on fattening her up.
“I need help bringing the stuff inside,” Bowen said as he leaned to scoop Margaret into his arms. "The trunk is full, and so is the backseat.”
“I’m on it.” Leon cast her a tight smile and headed for the trunk.
“Oh, Margaret.” Anastasia reached for her friend’s hand. “That is a really big cast.”
“It’s heavy too.” Margaret lifted a pair of adoring eyes at the Guardian carrying her. “Bowen is so strong.”
Rolling his eyes, Leon hefted a bunch of shopping bags in each hand and followed the group inside. It seemed like Anastasia’s friend had a bad case of hero-worship.