Three and a Half Weeks

by Lulu Astor

  “It’s done, Ariel. Are you okay?” His smile was reassuring but his eyes were triumphant—a conquest for the alpha male that couldn’t be denied.

  “Yes,” I breathed out, just then realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in a while. “I’m fine.”

  He stayed still, allowing my body to acclimate to his invasion and we just gazed into each other’s eyes and that’s when I knew I could so easily love him forever. Could he love me? I really had no idea but I was planning to find out. Soon.

  “I’m going to move now, Ariel. Ready?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Look at me,” he whispered as his hips pulled back at a snail’s pace and then thrust in fast. He eyed me carefully the whole time. Whatever reaction he sought, he got, for he did it again. When there was no problem, no protest on my end, he smiled and said, “We’re ready to dance, love,” and began the ancient rhythm in earnest.

  Then there were no more words, just motion. Beautiful, wonderful motion and he was careful to swivel his hips to touch every part of me, as if in search of something. Reaching down between us, he used his fingers to stoke me hotter, and I climbed ever higher, into the clouds, ascending K2, climbing until I ran out of earth and the room flashed to bright white and I came forcefully.

  He kept going but I saw on his face the struggle to keep from being dragged into the vortex of my orgasm… but he prevailed. I wanted to see him come badly so I selfishly tried to break his control. I reached my hands around his narrow hips and yanked him to me as I flexed my hips up to him and tightened everything on him. I kept up the torture, trying to keep up with his flawless rhythm but unable to. Still my efforts paid off in minutes as he arched his back and the sexiest of moans traveled up his throat; his eyes closed and his movements slowed and jerked. Then he collapsed and I reveled in his weight on top of me. I wrapped myself around him and wanted to tell him I loved him then and there, but how ridiculous. I couldn’t love him. Not yet.

  But… I did.

  Now I invite the tears to come. Sometimes a girl needs to indulge in, celebrate, hell, even revel in, her right to self-pity. My present circumstances give me full rights. On the heel of that thought, comes the million-dollar question and the one that provokes a full-on crying jag: will I ever see my beautiful Ian again?

  Chapter 29

  Feeling ready to detonate, Ian takes another swig of his Glenlivet on ice but it doesn’t help… not at all. Knowing that Ella might be in danger and being hours away from her is well beyond frightening, and galaxies beyond frustrating. There isn’t a word in the English language to call the turbulence roiling inside his head, the turmoil inhabiting his gut. His body, viciously tense, is akin to a bungee cord on the upswing, the reciprocal force being stronger than the original, the reaction far outweighing the original action.

  When would Butler reach the apartment and what would he find when he did? He hated putting another person—a total stranger—in harm’s way, but he simply had no other choice. Someone had to get to Ella right away and it wasn’t going to be him so… His animal instincts, the kind of cues that have nothing to do with rational thought and everything to do with primal sense, told him that Butler was up to the task: there was something about the man that bristled with unabridged power. For now, Ian would just have to rely on his instincts for his choices were nonexistent. Taking another pull on the scotch, he leans back in the plane seat and searches for a way to calm the savage beast within.

  Daniel Butler stares at the apartment door, Sean Blackwell and Tom Pierce right behind him. Sean eyeballs the lock and shakes his head.

  “We’re not going to disable that lock anytime soon, Mr. Butler. The mechanism means business but complicating it tenfold? That strike plate is serious armor. Even a drill won’t quickly compromise it. We need to find another way in.”

  Daniel nods, as if in agreement with Blackwell, but he knows he could get past the lock easily. He won’t, however, do it in front of witnesses. He turns his head to the side to address his security team. “Sean, I want you and Tom to case the apartment from the exterior. Figure out how many windows belong to the apartment and if there’s a way to get to them. Also, take note of which ones are lit, etc. Meantime, I’ll wait here to ensure no one exits. Make it quick.”

  “Yes, sir. Let’s go, Pierce.”

  Placing an ear to the metal door, Daniel listens carefully. He is fairly certain there’s no one in the first room. He knows Ella is in there with Lucien Phillips but he also senses two other men, possibly three. They may be inside or it’s possible they were recently there and have since left: he’s just not sure. Before his men can return, though, he needs to see to the lock. Marshaling his concentration, he focuses on breaching it and within twenty seconds, the door clicks open.

  Tom Pierce looks up skeptically at the long row of windows. “This is not going to be a piece of cake, Sean. It would have to be on the third floor, right in the middle of the damn building… and no adjacent neighbor within leaping distance, damn it.”

  Sean Blackwell tears his eyes away from the bank of tall windows long enough to smirk at the new guy: Tom Pierce had just started working for Daniel Butler the week before last. “Between you and me, Pierce, we won’t have to.”

  Pierce furrows his eyebrows quizzically. “Why?”

  “How much you wanna bet that by the time we get back inside, Butler will have the door open?”

  “Not possible. That Medeco is some serious hardware even without the strike plate. It’s not gonna happen.”

  “Care to put some green on it?”

  Not a gambling man, Pierce nonetheless is tempted by the easy money. “How much we talkin’ about?”

  Sean tilts his head in consideration. “Let’s keep it little: how about twenty bucks?”

  “You’re on.” They fist bump and Sean says, “Come on, let’s go back so I can collect my twenty. I’ll use it to buy us a few beers when we’re finished here.”

  Snorting his disdain, Pierce leads the way back inside. The two brawny men, dressed head to toe in black, take the stairs up to the third floor.

  Easing the hallway door open quietly, they make their silent way over to their employer. Daniel turns his head as they approach.

  “We got lucky. Someone exited the apartment and I was able to get to the door before it locked again,” Daniel whispers as the two near him.

  Pierce wears the most astonished expression on his pockmarked face and wants to curse out loud badly. He’d been had in a sucker bet, no doubt. Blackwell was right, damn it. Should he wait to pay him so Butler can’t see? His partner solves the problem for him by extending his hand, palm up. Scowling, Pierce pulls a twenty out of his wallet and forks it over.

  Watching the transaction with thinly veiled amusement, Daniel starts issuing orders. “I’m going for the girl since she’s met me before. Sean, I want you to head directly toward the subject whose photo I showed you—Phillips—and incapacitate him as quickly as possible. Tom, you need to take care of anyone else there and if there are no additional bodies, then assist Sean with Phillips. I’m not sure what kind of response he’ll give us.” He arches his brows as he trains piercing green eyes on both men. “Are we clear?”

  Both nod and Daniel inhales deeply. “Let’s do this.”

  The first room is almost completely dark; feeble ambient light radiates from a hallway. Like thieves in the night, the three move single file deeper into the apartment. Daniel is in the lead and ducks his head fast into the first room, pulling it back in case anyone is poised to attack. Clear. He waves his hand to let the others know and they move to the second door.

  At that precise point in time miles away, Ian is wondering if he should call Butler. Dragging his hands through his hair, which, by now is so manhandled that it gives him the look of a madman, he considers his options. If he calls Butler and the man is at a crucial moment in the operation, it can screw things up. But if he doesn’t call and he doesn’t hear from Butler soon, he might just spontaneously combus
t into flames. Indecisive only when it comes to Ella, he sits uncomfortably in his skin as understanding seeps into his brain, the knowledge that this will be the quality of his life if he succeeds in keeping her—perennially on the edge of his seat, unsure, confused, enticed, and always wanting more. As he acknowledges it, he has his moment of epiphany: he loves Ella. He is in love with her. And if by some divine grace he has the chance again, he must tell her—no more denial and no more prevaricating. Ian knows one other thing for sure: if Phillips was in front of him now, the bastard would die young, but he definitely wouldn’t leave a beautiful corpse.

  With his acceptance of the status quo, Ian finally finds a tiny measure of peace through resignation, leaning back in his chair to wait for Butler to call.

  They find Ella in the third room. She’s lying on a bed, the light dim, and she appears to be fast asleep. Daniel waves his two men on to continue the search, as he makes his way into the bedroom. Leaning carefully over the young woman, Daniel touches her hair ever so gingerly. “Ella?”

  Her eyes slit open a tiny bit and for a long moment, she just stares at him uncomprehending. Daniel waits patiently until he notices a spark of recognition in her eyes. “Daniel, right?” Her voice is rusty from sleep.

  “Yes, Ella. Ian sent me to get you. Are you okay?”

  She sits up, rubbing her eyes, and then glances down frantically at herself and then her surroundings. “Where am I?”

  “At Phillips’ apartment. Come on, we’re leaving.”

  She looks around at the room as if seeing it for the first time. “I was in a black room.”

  Daniel eyes her closely, wondering if she’s been drugged. He also looks confused by where and how he found her. “Listen to me, Ella. Right now all I care about is getting you out of here to safety and calling Ian so he doesn’t go into full cardiac arrest. I’m taking you to my house where my fiancée can look after you until Ian’s flight gets in. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  She jerks her head. “Where is Lucien?”

  “Don’t worry about him. Let’s just get you out of here.”

  Daniel doesn’t want to touch Ella since he’s unsure of exactly what she’s endured at the hands of Phillips but she’s responding too slowly so he needs to help. He reaches his hand to her legs and gently slides them to the floor. She’s fully dressed but for her shoes so he looks around on the floor, finally spotting them near a tall dresser. In less than a minute, he’s squiring her out the door. Whispering into the mouthpiece attached to his collar, he alerts his men that he’s leaving with Ella. Once outside the building, he stops long enough to speak with Sean through the mike.

  “Sean? Status?”

  “Found him in the next room asleep. We’ve immobilized him and waiting for your orders, sir.”

  “Keep him comfortable but restrained until we figure out exactly what went down. Did you search the rest of the premises?”

  “Roger on that. Empty.”

  “Good. Can you both stay or should I order reinforcements?”

  “We can stay, sir. The only problem is that he may have more people coming here and there’s only two of us.”

  “I should know within the hour how I want to proceed. I’m taking Ella to my house and then heading right back to you. Over.”

  As soon as Daniel flags down a cab and he and Ella are seated inside, he pulls out his phone to call Ian.

  “What’s going on?” Ian’s strained voice answers on the first ring.

  “I have Ella, safe and sound. We’re in a taxi now, going to my house. I’ll leave Ella there with Olivia and then head back to my men at the subject’s apartment. They have him restrained, awaiting my orders.”

  “Do you know what happened yet?”

  “No. I found Ella asleep in a bedroom, alone, fully dressed. My men found Phillips in another bedroom, also asleep. That’s all I know at this time. What’s your ETA?”

  “I’m still more than two hours away from landing at Newark. I’d like to kill the bastard but I don’t want to keep your men there and in possible harm’s way. What do you recommend?”

  “I’ll question him and see what he has to say. I may have to let him go before you get here, Ian. Let’s see how it all shakes out. I’ll keep you posted but meantime you can relax knowing Ella is safe.”

  “Yes. That sounds good, Daniel. I don’t even know what to say to you other than that I’m profoundly grateful—to you, your men, and your fiancée.”

  “I’m sure you’ll pay it forward, Ian. I’d put Ella on the phone but she’s fallen back asleep—there’s a possibility she’s been drugged.”

  Daniel hears a muttered curse on the other end.

  “Have her call me if she wakes up before I get there. I’ll let you know as soon as I land.”

  “Very good. Until then.”

  As the landing gear kisses the ground gently, Ian can barely summon admiration for the pilot’s skill: his entire body is vibrating with the need to see and touch Ella. He’s decided that Ella’s well-being far eclipses his own need for satisfaction so he plans to go directly to Daniel’s and see his girl. The moment the plane comes to a stop, he unbuckles and darts into the cockpit.

  “Scott, can we keep the Gulfstream here for 24 hours?”

  The pilot looks fatigued so he readily agrees. “Just give me about two hours notice when you’re ready to return to Portland, Mr. Blackmon.”

  “Scott, check yourself into the Plaza or whatever nice hotel you like, order room service, and get some sleep. Charge everything to my account, of course. I really appreciate your off-the-cuff readiness. I’ll ensure that appreciation is translated into dollars and cents.”

  Before the pilot can reply, Ian is opening the door and exiting the plane, hoping he can find a cab at this hour of the night. Turns out he doesn’t have to for as he exits the airfield, a man in dark clothes is standing there awaiting him.

  “Mr. Blackmon? Ian Blackmon?”

  “Yes,” he replies, eyeing the man warily.

  “Mr. Butler sent me to drive you, sir. May I take your luggage?”

  Ian had just a small bag slung over his shoulder. “No need, but I do appreciate the ride. Please lead the way.”

  It’s nearly five a.m. when Ian finally gets to Daniel Butler’s house. Daniel is waiting for him in the entrance hall so there’s no need to knock or ring the bell. Ian had phoned him right before the car pulled up in front of the brownstone.

  “Come in,” Daniel steps aside, ushering Ian into the house.

  “I need to see her first and then we’ll talk. Is that acceptable with you, Daniel? I know you’re probably exhausted but I have to see Ella.”

  “That’s fine. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.”

  Ian follows Daniel up a long staircase covered with a plush scarlet runner and down a hall. They stop before a closed door and Daniel turns to him. “I’ll be waiting downstairs in the kitchen. Come find me when you’re ready to talk.”

  Nodding, Ian says, “Just give me five minutes and I’ll join you.”

  Opening the door quietly, Ian steps in and waits until his eyes adjust to the darkness. There’s a dim nightlight not too far from the bed and in its faint glow, he sees her beautiful face and she’s sleeping peacefully. He quietly walks over to the bed, leaning his weight down slowly. “Ella?”

  No response.

  “Ella?” She moans and slowly her eyes open. Ian scowls: Ella is normally a light sleeper so drugs are more than a good possibility.

  When recognition sets in, she bolts upright and throws her arms around his neck. “Ian,” she sobs and with the utterance of his name, she’s off, the tears so violently forthcoming that she soon begins to gasp for oxygen.

  Stroking her hair, he tells her to calm down, that she’s all right but the weeping is as unstoppable as a storm-swollen river, so he just holds her until she’s spent. “Better?” he asks when she begins to quiet.

  “Yes, so much better. Ian… I’m not even sure what happ
ened to me.”

  His brows arch in surprise. “What do you mean, Ella?”

  “It was horrible but… when I woke up, when Daniel woke me up… I was dressed and in a different room. I’m not sure what was dream and what was reality. I’m so confused.”

  “In all likelihood, you were drugged, Ella.”

  She nods, tightening her embrace.

  “Can you tell me what you remember?”

  “I went to Lucien’s loft for the editing conference. Lucien was there… and there were two other men, Michael and Nico. We discussed the film for about an hour, looked at some footage and…”

  “Did you eat or drink anything, Ella?”

  “Um, yes. I had orange juice… and I think… yes, I had a cookie, too.”

  “Okay,” he prods gently, “what next?”

  She shakes her head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t know. I thought I was in a black room and I was strapped down to a bed in my underwear and…” she looks up, sheepishly. “I don’t know if this actually happened or not.”

  Ian knows his expression must be one of utter disbelief but he can’t help it. Was Ella remembering what actually happened, or was it a dream or hallucination triggered by a drug? He couldn’t be sure right now either.

  He clears his throat. “Ella. Did you check out of your hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes,” she whispered softly, “I missed you so much, so I decided to fly home right after the editing conference. I booked an early evening flight to Portland.”

  “What did you do with your luggage?”

  She furrows her brow. “I thought I left it in the lobby of the hotel… with their permission… but Lucien told me it was in a storage locker…”

  “I see. Okay. Tell me what you remember, regardless of whether or not you’re sure if it really happened. Just tell me quickly so we can move on from there.”