Reluctantly Rescued (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 9)

by Ruth Cardello

  On the wall in gold lettering a sign read: Welcome to the Ball Room.

  Clever.

  Are you okay, Clay? We need to talk about how seriously you’re taking this fairy godfather shit.

  “This is amazing!” Joanna said, hugging him with an enthusiasm she couldn’t contain. The room and everything else ceased to matter. There was only her and the heat searing through him every place her body moved over his.

  Amazing? He’d say it was fucking scary how easy it was for her to overwhelm his senses. “It’s something alright.”

  She leaned back and smiled up at him. “Are you afraid of a little competition? Big man worried I might kick his ass at a ball throw?”

  He looped his arms around her hips and settled her against his growing excitement. “That’s not where my mind currently is at all.”

  Her mouth rounded and he gave in to the need to taste her again. Her arms came up and around his neck. He bent his head and kissed her with all the hunger dammed up within him. It was a greedy claiming, a concession to something he’d tried to deny. She met his kiss with equal passion. Her mouth opened to his, their tongues swirled and withdrew. She moaned with pleasure and he shuddered.

  Had they been alone, clothing would have started flying, but a small voice in his head warned him to keep a foot in reality. He raised his head and rested his forehead on hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Her breath tickled his lips. She hesitated, but then in a near whisper said, “Okay.”

  He stepped back, took her hand in his, and turned to lead her out of the room only to see the way they’d entered was closed without a handle. Like a door to a hidden room, it blended with the rest of the wall. Bradford whipped around. The far exit had also been closed and disguised. “Fucking Clay.”

  As long as it was Clay.

  The setup was too extravagant for a normal hit. There were definitely less expensive ways to take him out if someone wanted Bradford dead.

  What angered him was how easily he’d lowered his guard. His hand tightened on Joanna’s. One fucking date that wasn’t even really a date and he’d already put her life in danger.

  “You okay?” Joanna asked.

  “Not really,” he snapped. He didn’t want to alarm her so he lied. “I’m uncomfortable in small places.”

  She looked around. The room they were locked in was huge, but that didn’t stop her from looking sympathetic when her eyes met his again. “I can understand that. Let’s see if we can find someone who’ll let us out.”

  On a table beside the door where they’d come in was a tablet and a white card with instructions. “Tap the screen. Play the video.”

  First Bradford checked for wires or any sign that it might be rigged to explode. When he found none, he tapped the screen and hit play on the video that came up.

  Clay’s face filled the screen. “Hi, Joanna. Isn’t this place incredible? You’re welcome. Bradford, I’m proud of you for getting this far, and I apologize ahead of time for locking you in. Trust is such an important part of any relationship but so is having fun together. Think of this as an escape room where you have to learn to play together for the doors to reopen.”

  Bradford growled, “I’m not fucking—”

  Clay’s video continued, “Before you threaten to break out on your own, being in a healthy relationship means taking your partner’s feelings into consideration. Lexi’s happiness is as important as my own. We all know you’re perfectly capable of breaking out if you want to, but before you do that, ask Joanna if that’s what she wants.”

  He looked down at Joanna’s face. She seemed conflicted. He remembered what she’d said earlier about wondering if their differences were too much for them to overcome. She’d wished he could see all this through her eyes.

  He took a deep breath and pushed aside how angry he was for not noticing when the man in the tux had left the room. Joanna likely didn’t see any of this in that light. The truth was there in her eyes, she was enjoying Clay’s antics.

  Staying gave Clay control of the situation and Bradford wasn’t comfortable with that, but as he watched the hope in Joanna’s eyes dim, he was forced to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: I care about this woman. Her happiness does matter to me.

  “You want to stay and play,” he said.

  Her chin rose slightly, but the smile had gone from her eyes. “Yes.”

  In or out. She wasn’t someone he wanted to fuck once and forget. It was time to step up or step off. “I do too.”

  Her expression was cautiously excited. “Really? I know it’s over the top. You don’t have to do this for me.”

  He thought about how close they’d come to leaving and heading to either his place or hers. She would have gone with him because she trusted him, but what had he done to earn that trust? How had he valued it?

  I’m not looking for a relationship—healthy or otherwise.

  Then what am I doing?

  I’m staying.

  Not because both doors are locked, but because . . . “I want to.”

  She bounced beside him. “I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

  “Oh, really?” He pulled her close, bending her slightly back over his arm. “What makes you think you’ll have to?”

  She brought a hand up to caress his cheek. As a rule, he told people not to touch his face, especially not his scars, but her touch was welcome anywhere. The smile she gave him was cheeky. “Because I’m so cute it’ll be impossible for you to concentrate.”

  “You’ve got me there.”

  He kissed her again and reveled in the sweetness of it. He’d been with some women with nearly professional skills, but none had come close to affecting him the way Joanna did. She didn’t hold back when she kissed. She was openly enthusiastic as well as playful. When the heat rose between them to the point where he was ready to once again suggest they leave, she gave him one last kiss and laughed. “Now, which game would you like to lose at first?”

  He chuckled. “You choose.”

  She took his hand and looked around. “I’ve done escape rooms at the mall, but I have no idea where to start here. The only thing he said was we’d have to learn to play together for the doors to open.”

  Clay’s no Einstein; I’m sure we’ll figure it out. He scanned the room. There were small cameras above each game. On closer inspection the floor wasn’t solid. The strips in it could be sensors. Was Clay watching? Bradford looked right into a camera and let his expression convey his warning. The harder you make this on me, the harder I’ll make it on you when I get out.

  “Look, the basketball throw is blinking,” Joanna exclaimed.

  Bradford tipped his head at the camera. Smart man. “Let’s start there, then.”

  They walked over to the game together but separated when they reached it. Joanna picked up one of the clear basketballs, tossed it straight in the air, then caught it. “You have to admit this is cool.” Bradford chose one for himself.

  She took a practice shot.

  It went straight in but no points came up on the board. Bradford threw his with the same result.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “How do we play this game together?”

  Bradford shook his head. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  Joanna chose another ball. “Let’s play around the world.”

  “What?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You’ve never played around the world?”

  “I was never into sports.”

  “It’s a two-person game. All you need is one friend.”

  He said nothing, because the truth wasn’t something that belonged in the game tent. Outside of Ian and Connor, he’d never really had a friend. Friendship required trust and trust was something he struggled with.

  She cocked her head to one side, then said, “Right. Okay, well it’s an easy enough game and you already know how to shoot. We’ll keep it simple. I’ll try to make the shot while you try to stop me. If I miss, you take the next shot while I
try to block you. I make the shot, I get to shoot again. We stop when one of us gets to . . . let’s say five to keep it short. Usually people go to twenty-one.”

  She moved a distance from the game.

  He turned and stood in front of it.

  She began to dribble the ball, moving back and forth. He stood his ground. There was no way she could get around him where he was.

  She paused and held the ball under one of her arms. “Aren’t you going to move?”

  “Don’t have to. You don’t have a clear shot.”

  She sighed. “That’s true, but your way is no fun. You’re supposed to try to take the ball from me.”

  “To do so I’d have to leave the net wide open.”

  She began to dribble again. “Exactly.”

  He moved toward her, she darted around him and made the shot. Her joyful laugh took all the sting out of her win. A point went up on the board.

  “That’s one for me.” She retrieved the ball and returned to her original spot. “You’ll have to try harder.”

  He was better prepared the second time. When he stepped forward and she tried to skirt around him, he threw out an arm and easily scooped her up. Momentum brought her against his chest with a thud. Slowly, oh so slowly, she slid down the front of him.

  Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark with desire. He was painfully excited. Her laugh bounced her breasts against his chest, scrambling his thoughts. “That’s technically cheating,” she said in a husky voice. “Not complaining, just stating it’s against the usual rules.”

  He took the ball from her and threw it toward the hoop without taking his eyes from hers. It binged with another point. He’d said he’d never played with anyone else, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t practiced tossing balls to pass the time at his foster family’s home. “Whose rules? We don’t need them.”

  “Right,” she answered, looking a lot more eager to kiss him than take another shot. “Still, basketball is not a hands-on sport.”

  “Then why the hell are we playing it?” he joked. Having her pressed up against him felt too good for him to care about anything else.

  She laughed again. “I love this side of you.”

  He tensed as the word love ricocheted through him but then laughed at himself for reading so much into her innocent statement. After giving her a quick kiss, he set her back from him and said, “Let’s do this.”

  He tried to block her next shot with moves he’d seen in movies. She made it past him and got the point. He stole the ball from her the next time and made the next point.

  When he stood there dribbling the ball while she danced around him he couldn’t have cared less about who won the game. Her eyes were focused on his hands, she was flushed with excitement, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful. He could have watched her all day.

  She took the ball away from him and made the shot, then turned back, hand on hip and said, “You let me have that one.”

  He grinned at her. “I did.”

  She grabbed the ball then sashayed by him. “Winner decides where we go on our next date.”

  “Hey.” He positioned himself in front of her, readying to steal the ball from her again. “You can’t change the rules now.”

  “Rules? Whose? Ours, I think. And I see an easy win in my future.”

  Oh, really? He braced his hands on his knees. “Bring it.”

  She made the shot and missed. He retrieved the ball and sank it.

  She couldn’t stop his next shot or the one after that.

  He deliberately missed so she could have the ball back. As they played together it became easier to anticipate her moves. When she went left, he went with her. When she went right he did as well. It was a dance of sorts that had him smiling more than he could ever remember doing.

  She wasn’t getting past him and she knew it. She pointed to somewhere behind him. “Look the door’s open.”

  He glanced away, confirmed it wasn’t true, and lifted her off her feet again as she tried to make it past him. This time, though, she anticipated his move as well and threw the ball just before she hit his chest. The winning point rang out as did her laughter.

  He lifted her above him. “You’re a little cheat,” he teased.

  “It’s called diversion. Not my fault you fell for it.” Her hands went to his shoulders.

  “Where’s the referee?”

  Her eyes were sparkling with laughter. “Why, do you want a redo?”

  He slid her down the front of him. “No, I want to know if there’s a penalty for this.” He claimed her mouth and brought her full against his hard cock. She clutched at his back. He dug his hands into her hair. They kissed until he felt like a young man afraid to explode in his pants. Holy shit.

  She was breathing as heavily as he was. They stood in each other’s arms for several minutes as he told himself to calm the fuck down.

  “The bowling alley lit up,” she said just above a whisper.

  He didn’t want to like anything about the tent, but she was glowing and her happiness filled him with a lightness he wasn’t ready to label. All he knew was it felt good, damn good, to be laughing with her. “Have you ever bowled?” he asked.

  “Once or twice as a kid. Nothing recent.”

  “Then we’ll figure it out together.”

  “I’d like that.” She settled herself under his arm as they walked, and nothing had ever felt so right.

  As they walked to the bowling alley, Joanna reflected on how different Bradford was from any man she’d been with. He didn’t play by the rules. “Whose rules?” His voice echoed in her mind. She snuck a look up at him.

  There was no longer any doubt about whether or not he was attracted to her, but their connection felt deeper than that. He was letting her in, showing her sides of him he normally protected and that made every smile he gave her special.

  He caught her looking at him and frowned. “What?”

  She hugged his side tighter. “Nothing. Just happy we stayed.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen me bowl yet.”

  “I’m serious. This was good for us.”

  He tensed. “Joanna—”

  She gave him a light pinch on those rock-hard abs of his. “Don’t even say there is no us. I’m here. You’re here. We are a pronoun. I understand this could lead to the two of us having great sex and still not knowing if it can go anywhere. Sometimes you just have to breathe, not worry about everything that can go wrong, and enjoy the moment.”

  He stopped and turned her in his arms. “It’s important to me that whatever happens between us—you don’t get hurt.”

  “That’s what’s most important to me as well, but about you. I’m not a child, Bradford. Technically, every relationship I had before you fizzled out. Was it me? Them? Both? I don’t know. All I can do is be me and keep going forward with faith that eventually I’ll find the right person. I refuse to believe I’m meant to be alone.” She tapped his chest lightly. “I refuse to believe you are either.”

  He didn’t say anything, but Joanna took that as a good sign. Bradford kept most of his thoughts to himself. Somewhere along the way he must have learned that was safer. There were times when he reminded her of a new rescue who wanted to trust the humans attempting to help them but couldn’t get past memories of abuse. Clarity, consistency, and kindness were the keys to winning animals over and she hoped that same recipe would work with Bradford.

  Did she want to have sex with him? Hell, yes.

  She wouldn’t though, if she thought it would only confuse him more. “I have an idea.”

  He waited without speaking.

  She continued, “If I win at bowling, we don’t worry about where this is going and just enjoy hanging out together.”

  “And if you lose?”

  “I accuse you of cheating, and then we still don’t worry about anything beyond if we enjoy hanging out.”

  His frown deepened. “That’s not fair to you.”

  She
put a hand on her hip. “Last time I checked I didn’t actually need a man. Sure, I like the idea of one in my life and it’s easier to have a family with one around, but I’m doing pretty damn well on my own. You worry about you and I’ll worry about me.”

  He nodded and then walked over to where the candlepin balls were. He paused before picking one up. “You weren’t the bad fuck.”

  She remembered he’d said that she might be—based on her relationship history. It might have made her defensive had he said it in another place or time, but she was too happy. “Funny, but we have to work on your complimenting skills.” She also picked up a ball.

  “It wasn’t meant as a compliment, just an observation.” His tone was serious but there was humor in his eyes.

  She decided a change of topic was in order. “So, I get the idea of this game. I believe we get three tries instead of two. There’s a strike and a spare, but I don’t really know how to keep score.”

  Bradford studied the alley and the immediate area around it. “I don’t see a scoreboard.”

  “Do you think that’s the point? Couples shouldn’t keep score against each other?”

  “Could be.” He looked at one of the cameras. “Although I can’t say Clay is who I’d look to for advice on how to make a relationship work.”

  Without filtering herself, Joanna blurted, “That’s so much better than what I thought you were going to say.” His head snapped around so he was facing her. She raised her shoulders and shot him an apologetic smile. “I just heard you in my head countering with—We’re not a couple.” She deepened her voice for the last part for effect.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Is that how I sound?”

  She cleared her throat and in an even deeper tone said, “I don’t do relationships.”

  “I see.” His expression didn’t change and for a moment she worried that she’d offended him. His next words, however, were in a high-pitched attempt of her voice. “I want a relationship, but it doesn’t have to be with you . . . any Prince Charming who doesn’t swear and believes in unicorns and magic will be a great father for my future ten kids.”